“Still,” Leomin said, “it’s curious, isn’t it? That you should just happen to be here, in these woods, miles away from any city and half a world away from where you and Aaron met?”
The joy faded from Aaron’s face and his customary frown set in again. Adina scowled at the Parnen, tempted to grab a rock and throw it at him. Owen shrugged self-consciously, apparently not noticing her and Aaron’s reaction, “Yeah, I guess headmaster Cyrille was right about one thing wasn’t he, Aaron? The gods have a sense of humor.”
Aaron turned away from Leomin, his frown becoming a smile, “The bastard got that part right, anyway.”
Owen went about stirring the stew, and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Adina studying Aaron, the way he watched his old friend. Then she winced as Leomin spoke once more.
“And what exactly did you say brought you to this part of the world, Owen, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Adina tried to meet the Parnen’s eyes, willing him to leave it alone, but his eyes were locked on the thin man.
“I don’t really think we need to be questioning him, Leomin,” Aaron said, his voice cold and hard, “especially considering the fact that it was him who bandaged us both up, and is now cooking us breakfast do you?”
Owen’s eyes went wide, somehow reminding Adina of an owl, “It’s alright, Aaron, really,” he said, “I don’t mind, and it’s a fair question.” He turned to Leomin, “To answer, I’d heard about the tournament in Baresh, thought it might be interesting.”
“So you’re a swordsman, then?” Leomin said, and Owen shook his head. “No? Then, maybe, you had a friend who entered, is that it? And, if so, I wonder, where is that friend now? I would hate to think that those slavers hurt him.”
“Oh, no, no,” Owen said, smiling, shaking his head and not meeting anyone’s eyes, “not a friend, not really. I just ….” He paused, sniffing, “Ah, I think the stew is done, such as it is.” He went to the pot and began to dole out helpings of stew into tin cups, handing them out to each of the others in turn.
“I guess,” Owen said, once he’d sat down with his own cup of stew, “that, since I was a kid, I don’t really like to stay in one place for long. I get to feeling trapped, you know?” He said, looking at Aaron. “Gets to where I start to feel the walls closing in on me, no matter how big the city or nice its people.”
Aaron nodded, “I understand that. Going through so much as a child,” he said, turning and staring at Leomin with hard eyes, “sometimes, our troubles follow us into adulthood in ways we wouldn’t guess. Such a thing is understandable.”
“Absolutely,” Leomin said, nodding. “Still, if you weren’t going to fight in the tournament and you didn’t have a friend fighting in it, then why—”
“Enough,” Aaron growled, “just leave him alone, Leomin. The man just got free of slavers, alright? He doesn’t need any more of your damned questions. Just eat your stew, will you?”
Leomin nodded, but his eyes continued to study Owen as he ate. For his part, Aaron didn’t notice, too preoccupied eating and watching Owen himself, as if afraid that the man would vanish at any moment, should he take his gaze away. Adina did though, and she patted Aaron on the knee. “I’ll be right back,” she said, “I’m going to speak to Leomin, see if something’s bothering him.”
She wasn’t sure that Aaron even heard her, so engrossed in watching his long lost friend, but she rose anyway and went to sit down on the ground by Leomin. “And just what was all that about?” She said, her voice a near whisper.
The Parnen captain frowned, shaking his head slowly and wincing as the motion must have caused some pain in the wound in his head. “I’m not sure, princess, really. Only, if there is one thing that I know and know well, it is strangeness, being possessed of some humble degree of it myself. And there is something more than passing strange about this one and the story he tells—or, perhaps, more accurate to say the story he doesn’t tell.”
“He was captured, Leomin, that’s all. Just like us. The world is a big place, yet it is small at the same time. This is not the first coincidence, nor will it be the last.”
“Yes,” Leomin said, “perhaps. Still, there is something more bothering me, princess, if you would hear it.”
All Adina wanted to do was sit and eat her rabbit stew and let Aaron be happy that the world that had taken so much from him had finally given something back, but she sighed softly, nodding. “Okay, what is it?”
“When we were in the tent,” Leomin said, “I admit that, for most of it, I was unconscious, so I do not remember all that transpired. However, I had come to a bit, there at the last, heard the guards words before that one,” he motioned to Owen with his chin, the thin man’s head hovering inches above his cup as he ate, “stabbed him in the neck. That itself is strange to me, for he does not seem the type to take such drastic action. I would not think him, had I not seen it, a man capable of killing.”
“All men are capable of killing, Leomin,” Adina said, “if given the right motivation. If the wars with my brother have taught me nothing else, they have taught me that. Belgarin wasn’t always cruel, you know? Sure, he was always stiff and rigid, always wrapped up in the picture he painted for others of himself. So much sometimes that you could almost see him painting it, could see him working out each nuance of his speech and his words, so that they always rung false, somehow. Contrived. He was pompous, but he was not cruel. Not evil. At least, that is, until my father did not gift him the inheritance he thought he deserved as the firstborn. And now three of my brothers and sisters are dead by his word if not by his hand.” She shook her head, “No, Leomin, the world can make murderers of us all.”
Leomin nodded slowly, “Yet, do you remember the guard’s words? Do you remember how surprised he seemed to find Owen there?”
“The man was in shock,” Adina said, growing frustrated now, “he’d just nearly been killed and had seen or heard his friends all killed. It’s no surprise that his mental faculties were somewhat … confused.”
“Confused,” Leomin said, “yes, perhaps that’s it. Still, the words are troubling to me. What was it, the man said again? ‘I’ll slit her fuckin’ throat, I swear by the gods I will.’” He nodded, “Wasn’t that it, princess? Her throat, the man said. And then, when he looked, he asked the man who he was? Was going to say something more, I think, before the knife took him in the throat. Does that not strike you as odd? Did you see nothing amiss yourself?”
Adina cast her mind back to that moment when she’d seen the man in the cage, remembered thinking that his eyes had been blue. A light blue, so light as to be almost white. Then, when she’d looked again, they’d been a dark brown. Strange, sure, but the young slaver wasn’t the only one who’d been terrified or in shock. She’d been scared herself. Scared and knocked on the head in the bargain. “What difference does it make what the slaver said?” She asked. “Girl or guy, clearly he was confused. I mean just look, Leomin.” She said, nodding her head at where Owen sat eating. “There he is. A he. I suppose you could ask him to strip naked for you so that you could check his sex, but I’ll be no part of that, I promise you. Or what do you think, exactly, that somehow this man has a way of changing from a man to a woman and back? And if so, why, Leomin, why by the gods, would he do it?”
The Parnen captain shrugged, “I don’t know, princess. You’re right, of course. There he sits, obviously a man. I need not check his parts to know that. Still,” he said, his voice stubborn, “the guard said her.”
Adina took a slow, deep breath in an effort to calm herself, “Fine, Leomin. Think whatever you will, watch whatever you will. All I ask is that you don’t upset, Aaron. The man’s been through enough evil in his life—it would be a pleasant thing for him to get a little bit of good out of the world. I will not have you ruin this for him. Do you understand?”
Leomin nodded, “Of course, princess,” he said, giving her a small smile, “I understand well enough and I, too, wish the sellsword h
appiness. I do not want to cause him pain or hurt.”
“Then don’t,” Adina said, and with that she rose and made her way back to Aaron.
“I think Leomin’s head just hurts him, that’s all.”
Aaron grunted, “It’s the strangest thing, Adina, I swear. I never thought to see him again and now that he’s sitting here before me, I almost don’t know what to say.”
“Tell him you missed him,” Adina said, “that you care about him. That’s all that you need say, Aaron. He is your friend—he will understand.”
Aaron nodded, turning to her and giving her a smile that somehow made her heart race in her chest. “What would I do without you?” He said.
She smiled, “Only the gods know. Now go to your friend. It has been too long; don’t make it be any longer.”
Aaron kissed her on the cheek, and she still felt the warmth of it as he rose and made his way to sit beside Owen. Soon, they were talking and laughing, Aaron with his loud, somehow cynical laugh, and Owen with his own nervous, quiet titter. Watching them, Adina felt better than she remembered feeling in a very long time. At least, that was, until she glanced over at the Parnen and saw him watching them, a frown on his face.
Sighing heavily, Adina grabbed her cup and began to eat, praying to the gods for patience.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
The brothel, like all other brothels, was also a tavern and, like all other brothels, it was packed at night by women seeking ways to make some coin and men seeking interesting ways to spend some. The ale here was some of the cheapest in the Downs, not that Celes expected any less. Gelsey, the owner and proprietor of Mounted Nights, was a very practical, shrewd woman. It was one of the reasons why her brothel was the most popular in the Downs.
A drunken man, after all, doesn’t stop to count his coins like a sober one does. A man who’s drunk enough wants a good meal and a good, soft bed, preferably with a good soft partner to share it with. All of which could be found in what most everyone in the city referred to as ‘The Nights.’
Celes made her way past tables of men playing at dice and cards, past groups of men standing around and pouring ale down their throats as if a crier had just announced that ale was a cure for any ill, and they all had diseases that needed curing. The drink wouldn’t cure all their ills, of course, but it would help them forget about them for a time, and for most that was enough. A hand rubbed her leg beneath the short skirt she wore as she moved past a table, and she turned, arcing a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the offender.
“Sorry there, miss,” he said, grinning stupidly, his eyes glazed over from the drink. “Didn’t see you there.”
Normally, Celes would have taken the time to correct the man, teach him in no uncertain terms that touching without an invitation was not alright—typically a kick to the fruits made the lesson sink in the best—but she didn’t have time just now, so she only gave the man a small smile and walked past him and his sniggering friends toward the bar, taking a seat at the only empty stool. “What’s a woman have to do to get a drink around here?”
The barkeep, a short old woman with gray hair, the type of woman who looked like she could be someone’s favorite grandmother, turned and, seeing Celes sitting there, gave her a wide, kindly smile that only added to her grandmotherly charm. “Why, if it isn’t Celes! How are you, my dear?”
Celes smiled back, “Hello Gelsey. I’m doing well, thank you. Yourself?”
The old woman gave her a wink, “Oh, I’m surviving, I suppose. The best any of us can hope for in such times.” She filled an ale and sat it down in front of Celes, squinting at her. “Been a while since I’ve seen you around here. No time for your ol’ friend Gelsey, I suppose.”
Celes rolled her eyes, “Don’t be silly, Gelsey. It’s just that I’ve been fairly busy of late, to be honest.”
The old woman nodded as she set about rubbing the already immaculate bar down with a rag. “Mmhmm. May keepin’ you busy, I’m sure. When are you goin’ to come on back and work for poor old Gelsey again? Why, I tell you, girl, we’re busier than we’ve ever been. You’d think all the talks of wars and assassinations’d have folks hiding in their bedrooms. Instead, they decide to do their hiding here in my bedrooms, and I don’t need to tell you that most all of ‘em prefer to do their hidin’ with a partner.” She shook her head, “Figure if I laid out a board with a hole in it, maybe threw a dress over it, I’d make myself quite a few coppers.”
Celes laughed, “Gelsey, you’re as beautifully terrible as always.”
The old woman cackled, “Well, I ain’t been beautiful nothin’ for a few years now, sweetling. My teats damn near hang to the floor, I don’t keep ‘em wrapped tight, and I got wrinkles so big one of these old fools’d likely fall in as not when he went to get his money’s worth. Still,” she said, her eyes getting a wistful look, “there was a time, girl, let me tell you, when folks’d travel from plum across the world to see your old mamma Gelsey.”
Celes rolled her eyes, “As if they don’t now. Don’t think I didn’t see that man—a tailor, wasn’t he?—making eyes at you the last time I visited.” She grinned, “As I recall, you ended up having some work you needed done that very night up in one of those rooms.” She motioned with her head to the stairs leading to the second floor of the brothel.
The old lady grinned, “Well, I suppose I might remember who you’re speakin’ of. Good enough fella, I guess, a needle smaller than you might expect but, then, he knew how to use it well enough.”
Celes laughed again, “You’re terrible, Gelsey.”
“Well. Tell me now, when you gonna come work for your poor momma Gelsey again? You were here, I reckon we’d have a line goin’ all the way out to Nobles street. Those stuck up women with their noses so high in the air you’d think they’d just got uppercut would have a time wrangling their husbands together.”
Celes shook her head, “Thank you, Gelsey, but the next man I have will win me with words and action, not coins.”
Gelsey winked again, “Well, take it easy on the poor fool, whoever he is.”
Just then, Celes felt a hand on her knee, and she turned to see the man that had felt her leg earlier smiling at her, his face only a few inches away. His breath stank of ale and unclean teeth, and the dirty linen shirt he wore was stained from where his drink had missed his mouth. “Hey there, beautiful, just how—” he paused to burp and shake his head, “I said just how much for a night of your company?
Celes frowned, “More than you can afford, I can promise you that.”
“Aw, hey now,” he said, his hand drifting further up her thigh, “you can’t know that for sure, can ya? Might be I’m a prince, come here to make you a princess.”
“Might be,” The old woman said, “that you’re a drunken fool, Radley Bohannon, and one that’s soon had just about enough ale for one night. Now, you go on and get back home to Mildred for I let her know your hands have been travelin’ places they don’t belong.”
“Aw, why don’t you just shut up, you old hag,” the man said, then he turned back to Celes, leaning in and trying to kiss her, so focused on his task that he didn’t notice Gelsey’s hands reach under the counter.
Gelsey moved with surprising speed for her age, and her hand came out with a length of stout wood. She swung once, much the way a woman might swat a fly, and the wood struck the man, Radley, in the forehead. He grunted, turning slowly to stare at her, and Celes saw a line of blood leaking from his scalp down his face. He opened his mouth to speak but never managed it before falling out of the stool and onto the floor, unconscious.
Suddenly, two large, thickly muscled men were standing on either side of the man, frowning down at him. “You remember Robert and Tilton don’t you, sweetling?” Gelsey asked as if nothing unusual had occurred. “Couple of my grandsons.”
Celes nodded to the men, smiling, “Yes I believe I do. Boys, how are you?”
The two men bowed their heads politely, “Ma’am.”
&nb
sp; “Well,” Gelsey said, “why don’t you boys take our poor friend Radley here home. Let him sleep it off.”
“Yes ma’am,” the two said, then they bent, one grabbing his legs and the other his arms and began making their way toward the door.
Gelsey nodded, turning back to Celes, “They’re nice boys, if you’re in the market for one. Not geniuses mind—nobody’ll ever accuse them of bein’ too smart, but what good is a smart man anyway? Fella that can sit around and think up ways to make a woman’s life more of a trial than it already is. Nah,” she said, “best just get you one that can follow orders, maybe dampen his wick when you’re of the mind.”
Celes laughed, “Thank you, Gelsey, but I think I’d rather wait and find the one for me the old fashioned way.”
The old woman grunted, “As you wish, dear, but just be careful. You wait around too long for the old fashioned way, you’re like as not to just be left with old. Now, if you didn’t come for a job, and you didn’t come to do me the favor of takin’ one of my grandsons off my hands, what’s got you out here this time of night? I know it ain’t my company, no matter what you say.”
“Well,” Celes said, “to be honest, I’m looking for a man.”
Gelsey scoffed, “I just told you I got two good men right there you could—”
“A specific man,” Celes said. “Lucius.”
Gelsey frowned, “Girl, you are far too pretty to go lookin’ for that little bastard.”
Celes laughed, “I’m not looking for Lucius for that, Gelsey. If it helps, I don’t think he’ll enjoy the conversation particularly.”
Gelsey leaned forward, squinting her eyes, “Now, this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain red haired queen I saw gracing us all with her presence earlier, would it?”
Celes grinned, “Maybe.”
***
“I told you to come back later, damnit!” A familiar man’s voice came from the other side of the door, “I’m busy just now.”
A Sellsword's Wrath Page 24
