by S.R. Cassady
“Oh, yeah, that would kind of make one suspicious, wouldn’t it?”
“It would.”
“What about the others?”
“Still at the pub, most likely. As far as I can tell, they left everyone else alone. I get the feeling they want you to make financial restitution. Seeing how I do your books I was brought to tag along on this particular outing.”
Well, that’s a little better than I was hoping. “Are you at least making the best of your time here? That whole lack of any responsibility, a free meal a day, and all the rest and naps one could ask for?”
“No.”
“Ahh, well, I was hoping things weren’t that bad for you.” I think for a moment. “Horace, I’ll get you out of here as fast as I can.”
“You might allow me a moment of disbelief, seeing that I’m not aware of the last time a successful jailbreak also included the prisoners living through the experience.”
“Well, you’ll never get out with that attitude!” I grab a tin plate, flip the rotting food into the corner of the cell, and run it back and forth along the bars. It makes a loud, annoying clanging. “Jailer, jailer, jailer! Jailer, jailer, jailer! Jailer, jailer, jailerrrrrrr!”
Success! The sounds of a heavy door opening, the clumping of footsteps and the jangle of keys. I stop my racket, take a step back and wait.
Andeos, the governor’s lead Goblin, stops in front of my cell with two more Goblins at his side.
“You’re not the jailer! I demand the jailer!” I flash an extra-large smile to convince him to summon forth the jailer.
“Evening, Pinty. You’ve earned a special prize. I am your jailer today.”
Smile. Begins. To. Fade.
“It’s nice to see that you’re finally awake. The governor has standing orders that require you to be conscious.”
“Ahh, sweet! I’m going right to the top. He’ll have to excuse me if I don’t look my best, but a dungeon has a way of adding a wrinkle or two to one’s outfit.” I run my hands over my shirt, trying to press out some of the wrinkles.
“My orders are to bring you in front of the governor, yes, but that’s the second of two tasks.”
I try to keep the last remaining bit of a smile on my face. “How about we just go directly to task two?”
“But task one is for my men to beat the crap outta you. I have to admit, they’ve been looking forward to it for some time now. You really wouldn’t want to deprive them of that now, would you?”
No more smile. “Oh, come on. I just healed! Seriously, two days ago I was broken and beaten. I’ve still got the scars! Really, seriously, like two days!”
Andeos unlocks the bars and pulls the door aside. The other two Goblins come after me.
From his cell, I hear Horace say, “I like your plan, Pinty. Make sure you break me out of here with this plan of yours. Totally looking forward to it.”
“Shut up, Horace. This is a great plan.”
The cudgel in the shorter Goblin’s hand comes down hard on my head and I see stars. Lots and lots of stars.
Chapter 51
It hurts to breathe. It hurts to open the one eye that isn’t swollen shut. It hurts to stand. It just simply hurts. There are parts that hurt so bad I believe bones have been shattered and turned into mush under my skin.
Two freaking days. Two days and I’m worse off than before.
I take the seat that’s offered. Sitting offers absolutely no relief. Everything hurts.
“I’m glad, Pinty, that you’ve taken the time out of your busy schedule to see me.”
“Ghaaah-bluuuuuu-guhhhhhh.”
He directs someone else in the room. “Remove it.”
The gag is untied and removed. Thank the gods! I thought my garbled speech was because of a shattered jaw! Small mercies! I run my swollen tongue around my mouth and try to count how many teeth I still have remaining. Not finding any missing, I spit out a huge glob of blood to clear my mouth. “It’s a pleasure that’s all mine, Governor. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice.”
I think I almost get a smile from him for that line, but it’s difficult to tell with my current vision. “And I appreciate that you always have time for me, Pinty. It can be so difficult at times to meet with the right people at the right time. Care for a drink?”
Ahh, to hell with it. If I’m going to die, it’s to be. “Totally! Whatever you’re having.”
“Certainly.” I hear the clink of glass and crystal. A few moments later something is shoved into my hand. I raise it quickly and drink, spilling way too much in the process. It’s good, really, really good wine. “Hey, this is from my wine cellar!”
“It is? I could have sworn that this was found just outside the palace gates. Who knows? Anyways, you like?”
“Of course I like it. It’s mine.”
There’s a moment of silence before a hand, and not the governor’s, strikes my face hard enough to knock me out of the seat and onto the ground. It takes a minute to recover and climb back onto the seat.
This time I remain silent and wait for the governor to start speaking again. “A couple nights ago a large amount of my city was razed to the ground. I’m good with that if the benefit outweighs the cost. Tell me, Pinty, did you end the guild feud?”
“No.”
“Is either Tavos or his daughter dead?”
“No.”
“Can I expect there to be a reduction in violence, blackmail, petty thievery, extortion or other miscellaneous crime?”
“Maybe?”
“Then I’m having problems understanding how the benefits outweigh the costs in this process, or if there are any benefits at all.”
“I can see how you would assume that, yes. Very obvious.”
“So what am I left with as a benefit of the destruction of much of my town and the death or injury of many of my citizens?”
“You still have me?”
I don’t get knocked from the chair this time. Thinking about it, that’s actually worse than if I did. Now I know he’s really angry.
“And what, then, do you pledge to me? I think, given the current circumstances, I already have claim to your life. What can you offer beyond that?”
“Uh, well . . .”
“I’m waiting.”
I think to myself, “Give me a moment, my brain needs to kick into high gear,” but I feel my brain starting to go sideways. Everything is spinning, and not just from the beating or the recent tumble to the ground. What the — this isn’t right. I’m poisoned! “What have you done!”
“I’ve given you direction in life, Pinty. I’ve given you a few moments to find a reason to convince me of the value in displacing my population and burning my city. You have two minutes. I’ll just wait right here while I watch you come up with something.”
“Ghaa! What? How much do you hate me!” Think, brain. Think!
“Actually, Pinty, I’m quite fond of you. It’s just that, well, if you burn down half my city, I have to do something. If we can just get beyond that, I wouldn’t mind having you to dinner one night.”
“Great, best friends forever.” Why can’t I focus? Need to think. Everything is spinning. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would likely feel my organs shutting down. “Last time I was here, I asked for a few things when I succeeded in handing you the guild on a stick.”
“But you haven’t handed me anything.”
“I have! Seriously, I have.” It’s really, really hard to focus my eyes. The room spins. I need something right now to survive this.
I keep talking. “Amber is isolated. Tavos is on the run. Key members are dead or in hiding. The membership is decimated. Their den is breached and unsafe.”
“Facts, Pinty. All you are doing is stating facts. ‘What have you delivered’ is the question I have proposed you answer.”
I take a long breath, shut my eyes, and try to focus one last time. “You don’t need them dead. It’s not a vacuum, just chaos, and you’re great with chaos. With them stru
ggling and weakened, you can play them like puppets.”
“And . . .”
“What ‘and’! That’s it. A vacuum would lead to all sorts of pretenders to the throne. But weakened, you’ll have years to control them. I broke their power. I did what was asked.”
A few seconds pass, seconds I don’t have. My head tilts forward and I slide out of the chair. “Could I get that antidote now?” I roll onto my belly, cheek on the cold tile floor. I have just enough strength for one more word. “Please.”
My heart. It stops beating.
Chapter 52
I was always told that, when one dies, everything stops hurting.
They lied.
Chapter 53
“You’re not dead, so stop squirming, open your mouth, and eat some of this soup. You look like you could be dead, but you certainly are not.”
I open one eye, then the next. I confirm that I am not dead. If I was, the woman feeding me broth would be younger, more buxom and, sadly, a significantly less competent cook and step-in mom. “Hey, Mavis.”
“Don’t ‘Hey, Mavis’ me. This whole month you’ve been doing stupid things, getting hurt and crawling back here to the Bottom Up like a broken puppy. Sadly, just like such puppy, there’s no way I could personally refuse fixing you back up. Speaking of fixing, I should do that to you sometime when you’re asleep. Might cut down on your need to keep getting into trouble.” She pauses and pokes me in the face with the spoon. “You listening or do I have to start again from the beginning?”
“Beginning, please. Because even if I say I’ve heard it all, there’s no way I think that will stop you.” I try to smile but it’s a lost cause. All I do is scrunch up my face, giving Mavis the impression that I’m being fed the worst broth in the history of all broth-kind.
“Hummmm.” Another spoonful of broth lands mostly on my face and not in my mouth. For a while we just stay that way, me on my bed and Mavis feeding me.
“How did I get back?”
“One of the governor’s men showed up, opened up a large rucksack and poured you out. Not a word otherwise. Dumped you out and left, leaving you all broken on the floor of your own tavern. That was two weeks ago.”
“Could have been worse. Could have been left at the Sea Maiden like last time, I suppose.”
“That place? Haven’t you heard? Health inspector closed them down.” Now it was Mavis’ turn to smile.
“Where in this city did you find a health inspector? I thought the last one was found dead in his home, suffocated by trying to eat an entire meal in one mouthful. They don’t seem to have long lives, health inspectors. The one before that died of bad seafood allergies — something about a swordfish miraculously burying its sword in the man’s heart.”
“Strange, ain’t it?”
Now that’s impressive ingenuity on behalf of the staff. “Indeed, quite strange. Okay then, good to know. What’s the scoop with the Bottom Up? How badly did the fires hurt her?”
“Not like you spend any time here lately, but it’s doing okay. Funny how you think of her as a girl — I definitely see the Bottom as a curmudgeon of a man. Anyway, off-topic. The fires really took a lot out of the city, but left us alone. With us being so fortunate we’ve been running the pantry dry trying to feed some of the homeless and displaced. I’ve got calls out to the suppliers for extra rations, but everyone is overwhelmed at the moment. We’re making do.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Staff is all good, or at least accounted for. Some of the regulars I haven’t seen. I’m hoping they’re just holed up with family somewhere.”
“Aye. Anything else?”
“Naw, nothing worth reporting ’cept you really need to give Horace a raise. Two trips to the governor’s office is a bit much for anyone.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Speaking of which, how did the governor get my private stock?”
“Very next day after your arrest the Goblins came in and claimed every bottle in our cellar. Reparations, I think, were claimed.”
“Well, I did light a small fire.”
I get another ‘hmmmm’ from Mavis and a disappointed glare. She sets the bowl and spoon aside. I continue on. “Where’s Amber?”
“A few minutes ago she was down in the main room. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re right. I need to stop coming home broken.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to change.”
I ignore Mavis at this point, put on a ratty housecoat and head downstairs. Everything really hurts.
But at least I’m definitely not dead.
Chapter 54
Even though each step down the stairwell brings a new pain, ache or inflammation of an injury, I am still in a perfectly fine mood. I’ve avoided certain death, I retain the capacity to walk, and the Bottom Up continues to stand. Importantly, I have confidence that my looks will heal with time. I checked a mirror on the way down; the Goblins did nothing that should scar badly. Lucky, lucky day.
I hit the bottom of the stairs and review. Mavis is correct: it’s time to take a break. A nice, quiet fortnight or two will do me and the tavern good. The only difficulty being that one half of the guild war is rooming here.
I’m sure Amber will understand. It’s not that I am kicking her to the curb without a reason. I mean, it’s just not safe for me with her here.
I scan the tavern and spot her behind the bar. Immediately the whole plan I had to sweet-talk her into leaving disappears, replaced with a red-hot anger. I beeline it to the bar and get up in her face. “You need to put that back right now.” It’s not a request — it’s a command.
“Whoa, not a problem. Hold your horses a minute. Just looking.” And with that, Amber places the small blue and white urn back on its shelf behind the bar.
“Thank you. Please don’t do that again.”
Amber turns to face me, her hands pointing to the remains of my wife. “You loved her very much.”
“Yes.”
“That’s exceptionally sweet. Charming, actually.” She pauses for a moment and adds, “I would hope that you have the same response for me when I’m dead. If you want, I could pick out the urn I would like in advance.”
I relax. If Amber meant harm to the urn, she would never have released it. At the moment it’s definitely just her curiosity getting the best of her. “Ha, you are not only going to outlive me, but you’re likely going to be the cause of my death.”
Amber looks directly at me, very serious, and gives me a couple tsk-tsks. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“When we dated, a traveling seer, a da’Jari, read our fortunes. It was quite specific. She said I would die before you.”
I smile. Amber always took divination a little too seriously. That particular da’Jari seer was all huckster and no substance. “I remember, now that you mention it. I also remember we were drunk out of our minds and there’s no way I’m taking anything seriously in that state.”
Amber’s face pales a bit. “You don’t? But I assumed that the whole reason you lived the life of risk and adventure you do is because as long as I was alive you knew you were safe. Who cares about fighting innumerable odds when Amber is home and still kicking it?”
“First off, it was gibberish. Second, still gibberish. And third, well, even if that’s true, it didn’t really mean anything. If you think about it, it could mean the exact opposite of how you interpret it.”
Now I’ve got her worried. “How do you mean?”
“It could be read instead that I’m going to kill you with my actions. It’s not you that is protecting me, but that I’m shortening your life. The moment I slip up, instead of me being punished, the gods simply reach out and strike you dead instead!” I give her a moment to think about it. “You can never trust predictions. There’s just too much uncertainty, too much interpretation.”
Amber contemplates her hands for a while. “Hmmm. You may have a point, but pretend for a moment I really do die b
efore you do.”
“Can I not? I mean, really, if there’s an option to pass on this conversation, I choose to pass.”
“Now it’s my turn to tell you lighten up, Pinty.”
A long groan escapes me. I wait patiently for her to continue.
“On the bottom of her urn, I saw you had engraved, ‘To my love, Claire. Even in death I will protect you. Pinty’.”
I nod. “That I did.”
“So will you be my guardian savior as well?”
“We’ve never been married. I married Claire. Big difference there.”
“Not really. What’s going to hurt so badly to say that to me as well?”
“Is there a point to this? Those ashes couldn’t be replaced. It’s as simple as that.”
“Okay, then. If that’s what you really want to say to me, it’s kind of mean.”
“It’s what I said.”
“Fine! Ouch. Thanks for nothing.”
“Speaking of nothing for you, I got some news.”
“Yes?”
“Pack your bags. You’re leaving at sun-up.”
“Already packed.”
“What?”
“Pinty, you’re highly predictable.”
“And you spy on me.”
“Yeah, I sort of listened in on what you told the gov’ner. I was just waiting these last weeks for you to get better before I gave notice and left. Now, give me a peck on the cheek. There’s a carriage out front and waiting. Janis has packed me already.”
“What is there to pack? You arrived with nothing.”
“You know, a girl collects things.” And with that, after giving me a peck on the cheek, Amber and Janis are gone.
I think I just lost a bunch of the tavern’s good linen. Maybe the silverware too.
Chapter 55
The attempt to take a break doesn’t go very well. After three days even Mavis has given up on the idea of me taking it easy. “You’re scaring the customers, you are, with this being nice and smiling at them all the time. They think you’re going to kill them.”
So, with all the staff’s exuberant permission, I’ve taken to figuring out something that’s been bothering me for some time. That’s why I tracked down Squints.
“Damn it, Pinty. Stop sneaking up on me!”
“Tut, tut, Squints. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already. Plus, it is way more fun surprising you with my presence.”
“Well, if you’re not going to kill me, help me get down.”
When I caught him off-guard with my hello, Squints’ fear nicely propelled him up a tower of crates. Now, as he balances precariously at the top, instead of offering any help I suddenly find my fingernails extremely interesting.
