A Sellsword's Wrath

by Jacob Peppers

  “In quite a few ways, as I recall” Aaron said, leaning against the tub and letting his eyes close. The water really was warm and never mind the damn lightning bug and her jibes.

  “Lightning bug?” She asked. “I’ll let that pass for now, but only because I want to explain something to you. The princess is a good person, a kind person. I do not know what strange twist of fate has brought you two together, but I promise you this; if you break her heart, I will make you suffer for it. Do not think that my lack of arms or legs means that I cannot administer a proper beating, a proper spanking when the need arises. You will treat her with respect and kindness, as she deserves.”

  “As she deserves?” Aaron grunted a laugh, “Firefly, she deserves to live in a castle and be married to a prince. Problem is, princes have a way of getting killed of late and castles are faring little better. If we all got what we deserved, I would have died a long time ago. Adina deserves a lot better than me, and that’s a fact.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say so,” Co said, “if you are not what she deserves then you must strive to become it. Do not let her down, Aaron Envelar. And tell me. Do you love her?”

  Aaron scratched the side of his neck, shifting in the tub. The water felt a little cooler now after all, and his position in the tub was not as comfortable as he’d thought it. “That’s none of your business, firefly. Shit, you’re ruining a perfectly good soak. Isn’t there somewhere you need to be—like checking on Leomin, maybe? I know the man said he’d find us the right clothes, but forgive me for doubting the judgment of a man that walks around with bells in his hair.”

  Just then, as if he’d been waiting for his name to be called, the door opened and the Parnen captain strutted in, a shirt and pants slung over one arm. He closed the door behind him, whistling as he did and laid the clothes on the bed. Aaron, surprised, had half risen out of the tub, the sword in his hand, before he realized who it was.

  Leomin glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow in question, as if he was the one doing something strange. “Leomin,” Aaron said, “I’m certain that I locked the door when I came in.”

  The Parnen captain nodded, “You did, Mr. Envelar, indeed. That’s why I had to ask the innkeeper for a key. Really a very nice lady,” he said, and if he noticed Aaron’s annoyance, he didn’t show it as he went about lying the shirt and trousers down on the bed, fussing at them to keep them straight, “Has eight grandkids, if you can believe that. The oldest—Tommy, I believe it was—married now for ten years.” He shook his head, “The world, Mr. Envelar, is truly full of remarkable people.”

  “And rude ones,” Aaron said, “the kind that’ll walk in on a man in his bath.”

  “Yes and those too,” Leomin said, clucking his tongue, “still,” he said, shrugging, “there is no accounting for what people might do. They are more vast than the stars and just as complex.”

  “You’re right,” Aaron said, frowning, “like, sometimes, people beat the shit out of each other for no good reason. Of course, sometimes they beat the shit out of each other for perfectly good reasons.”

  Leomin seemed to finally notice something in Aaron’s tone, for he turned, glancing at Aaron who still stood half out of the tub, the sword in his hand. “Ah. I am only here to deliver your clothes, as the princess asked. You will not need your blade, Mr. Envelar.”

  “I haven’t decided that yet.”

  The Parnen swallowed, “Right. Well, I suppose I’ll be going then. Is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Envelar?”

  “Just the one thing.”

  Leomin paused for a moment then nodded, “Ah, yes, I see.” He headed toward the door and hesitated, his hand on the knob. Aaron had just settled back into the tub when Leomin turned. “A curious thing, Mr. Envelar. I saw your friend, Master Owen earlier.”

  “Yeah?” Aaron said, “Well, you would, Leomin. Considering the fact that he’s staying in the same inn as us—only two doors down from my own room, in fact.” His eyebrows furrowed in thought, “I wonder if that’s close enough that he’d hear the screams.”

  The Parnen’s eyes widened, but he nodded again, slowly. “You’re right, of course. Still, I saw him a few streets over, speaking with a man I haven’t met before. The sort of man that seems dangerous.”

  “Oh?” Aaron said, rolling his eyes, “And what exactly seemed dangerous about him? Was he screaming and running around with a bloody sword, maybe?”

  Leomin shook his head, “Nothing so obvious as that, I’m afraid. There was just something in the way he moved, the way he walked. A thin man, though not overly so. He seemed fit enough and something about the way he moved reminded me well … of you, Mr. Envelar. I wouldn’t bet my life on it, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say the man was a fighter of some kind.”

  “What gave it away?” Aaron asked, suddenly more exhausted than he had been after listening to the Parnen’s prattle. “Have a knife scar across his face? Punching someone when you seen him, was he?”

  “No and no, alas,” Leomin said, “for either of those would, perhaps, help put to bed my confusion. He was only talking, though quietly, to our young friend, Owen. I could not tell you, with any certainty, what was said, of course, me not being the type to spy on people without their consent.”

  Aaron wondered what exactly it meant to spy on someone with their consent but said instead, “No, you? Of course not. Anyway, why are you telling me about this? Owen is his own man and welcome to speak to whomever he chooses.”

  “Of course, of course,” Leomin said, nodding, “still. I found it passing strange that he and this man spoke with such familiarity. Almost as if they knew each other and, this could be my imagination, but it seemed to me as if the man was subservient to our friend.”

  “Subservient?” Aaron said, “So something about this stranger screamed fighter and subservient to you?”

  “Indeed. I only found it mildly curious since Owen explained that he’d never been to Isalla before. How strange, then, to happen across someone he knows, wouldn’t you say?”

  Aaron frowned, “No stranger than a man wears bells in his hair,” he muttered, then said aloud, “Is there anything else, Leomin?”

  “No,” the Parnen said, “not especially.”

  The two stared at each other for a moment, and Aaron said, “Well?”

  Leomin started, “Ah, yes, of course. My apologies, Mr. Envelar. Please, do enjoy your bath.”

  Too late for that. “Oh, and Leomin?” He asked as the Parnen opened the door.

  “Yes, Mr. Envelar?”

  Aaron glanced at the clothes on the bed, “They don’t have a lot of frills do they? Tassels and what not?”

  Leomin smiled, but it was a smile that did little to put Aaron at ease about what he would soon be expected to wear. “No more than necessary, Mr. Envelar. No more than necessary.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY

  They approached the castle gates early the next morning, Aaron frowning for what had to have been the hundredth time at his shirt and trousers. The midnight black trousers fit well enough, though they were too tight. The shirt, though, was of a sky blue color and had long puffy sleeves at the end of which were frills like some noble dandy might wear. As far as Aaron could see, there wasn’t any practical use for the damn things except for getting in a man’s way when he tried to take a leak. Damn Parnen. At least the man had bought him a new hooded sable cloak of much finer make than his old tattered cloak had been even when it had been new.

  He glanced over at Leomin now as they waited in line for entrance to the castle behind about a dozen people. All, it seemed, seeking audience with their queen. The captain had assured Aaron that the billowing sleeves were the height of fashion, though the sellsword couldn’t help but notice that the Parnen’s own orange shirt had no such adornments. A simple long-sleeved tunic, though of fine material and richly made. His own tan trousers leaving enough room, Aaron thought, so that the man, unlike himself, probably didn’t feel as if his legs we
re going numb if he stood still for too long.

  Owen, at least, seemed as uncomfortable in his fine attire as Aaron felt, his body too long in places and seemingly too short in others, so that the green shirt he wore looked hung awkwardly on his lank frame.

  Adina though … Aaron stared at her back—and the rest of her—appreciating Leomin’s choice in dresses, at least. The light blue dress she wore—a color that mirrored Aaron’s shirt, and he wondered if that wasn’t’ Leomin’s roundabout way of saying their association wasn’t as secret as they might have hoped—clung to her in ways that Aaron found most distracting. If her hope had been to not eclipse her sister in beauty, Aaron thought she would be disappointed. Even were the Goddess of Love sitting in her sister’s throne, she couldn’t help but look plain in comparison.

  Finally, it was their turn at the gate, and it was just as well. Aaron was beginning to sweat in his clothes and cloak, his body used to the colder temperatures of Baresh. Still, he was loath to take the cloak off. It did a passable job of concealing the ridiculous shirt he wore underneath.

  Adina stepped up to the two guards at the gate, taking the lead as she’d said she would before they’d left the inn. They were dressed in spotless white uniforms, their breastplates and helmets gleaming in the morning sun. The visors of their helmets were thrown open now, and Aaron could see that they were young men, both, the type that he thought most women would find attractive. No scars or wounds to mar those raised cheekbones and sharp, pointed noses. He didn’t think he’d ever seen soldiers look so pretty. Or so stupid.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Adina was saying.

  The first guard’s eyes roamed up and down Adina’s form, and he smiled, “Good mornin’ to you too,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Just so,” the second said, sharing a grin with the first, “though it could be a better morning for us both, I think, you meet me at an inn I know later, lass.”

  “Or the both of us,” the other guard said, “we’re not against sharing, if sharing’s called for.”

  Adina smiled slowly, and Aaron resisted the urge to grab the two fools and slam their faces together. He wondered how pretty they’d be with broken noses. He had just about decided there was only one way to find out when Adina glanced back at him, a warning in her eyes, and he sighed and watched in silence.

  “A tempting offer,” she said, “unfortunately, I’ve other business I must attend to. Perhaps another time. I must speak with your queen.”

  “You sure?” The first asked, his eyes roaming over the princess’s body in a way that had Aaron thinking he’d be surprised she didn’t come out of this pregnant just from the man’s look. “See, thing is, it’s a long line of folks that wait to speak with Her Majesty.”

  “So it is,” the other guard said, “why, I’ve seen people wait a week for an audience and still not get so much as a glance at her Royal Highness. Maybe,” he said, grinning again, “if you could see your way to doing us a favor, such as it is, we might find a spot for you and your,” he glanced at Aaron and the others then seemed to dismiss them immediately, “servants here, closer to the front. The queen, after all, is only one person, no matter how wise and beautiful, and it’s a big city. A bigger kingdom. She can’t be expected to see every farmer or shop owner comes calling.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll see me,” Adina said, her smile still well in place. “And might I just add that those really are fine uniforms. Quite pretty.” The two men smiled at that, but she went on, “I wonder how it is that the two of you manage to keep the filth that comes out of your mouth from staining them. It must cost a fortune in laundering.”

  Aaron grunted a laugh at that and turned to see Leomin grinning back at him. The two guards’ smiles were slow in fading as they began to understand that they’d been mocked. “Well,” the first said, “there’s no cause to be a bitch, lady.”

  “Yes,” the other said, “no cause at all. And, as it turns out, it seems that the queen has stopped taking audiences for the day. Maybe you should come back tomorrow. Might be, you’ll be in a more amicable mood then.”

  “Amicable?” Adina said, “I’m impressed. Come up with that one all on your own, did you?”

  The man let out a growl, “Get your ass out of here and take this trash with you,” he said, motioning at Aaron and the others, “before we find you an unoccupied cell in the dungeon.”

  Adina nodded slowly, “Well, I certainly don’t want to remain where I’m not wanted. Only … perhaps we’d better check with your queen first, just to be sure. Why don’t you tell her the … what was it you said? Oh yes, the bitch, her sister, Adina, has come to visit.”

  The two guards’ eyes went wide at that, and they stared at each other in shock. Then, finally, one of them smiled slowly, turning back. “Adina, is it? Well, you’re pretty enough, lass, good enough for a roll in the hay, maybe more than one.”

  “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” the other agreed.

  “Thing is,” the first one who’d spoken said, “the princess Adina is said to be—or, I should say, said to have been—one of the most beautiful women in the world, and I don’t know that you quite make the cut on that score.”

  “Though,” the other said, “I don’t guess we could really say for sure, could we? Not until we’d seen you dressed as the gods clothed you, anyway.”

  “He means naked,” the first said. “Still, I say been on account of word reached the capital weeks ago now of trouble in Adina’s kingdom. Tale is, the princess’s beauty—though great it surely was—wasn’t enough to keep her horse from throwing her and trampling her under it.”

  “He means she’s dead,” the second guard supplied.

  “And yet,” Adina said, her smile still well in place, and Aaron was struck again by the woman’s patience, “here I am. And as for being good enough for a roll in the hay, I’m sure I’ll have to let my sister know of the graciousness of her guards, once I speak with her.”

  “Let it go already,” one said, “gods, woman, it was a clever enough joke, but you’d best drop it now and be on about your way. Unless,” he said, taking a step closer to her, “you’ve reconsidered our offer?”

  “I think,” Adina said, standing her ground, “I’d like to counter with an offer of my own. You go in and tell my sister that I’ve come to visit her now, and maybe I’ll forget about the crassness and foolishness of her guards when we speak. I do not think she would like to hear that her younger sister had been kept waiting at the gate to be ogled and propositioned by her guards. If proof is needed of my identity, ask her if she remembers the name Sophie. Sophie Ravenhair.”

  The two guards turned to each other, “Surely, you don’t think…”

  The other shook his head, a man whose warning had went unheeded, “Best send a runner to tell the queen.” He turned back to Adina as the other guard motioned a man forward, whispering into his ear, “I don’t think you’ve any idea how much trouble you’re going to be in, miss, once the man comes back and says the queen doesn’t know you from anybody. I were you, I’d get gone before he does.”

  Adina smiled, “I think I’ll wait just the same.”

  The man shrugged, “Have it your way.”

  They stepped to the side of the line by the gate, and Leomin smiled, bowing his head to Adina as if in acknowledgment. “Handled most deftly, my princess. Truly, it is a joy to watch you.”

  Adina rolled her eyes, “They aren’t the first fools I’ve had to deal with, and I don’t suspect they’ll be the last, but thank you just the same.”

  They waited, Aaron fidgeting and wiping the sweat from his brow, for what must have been close to an hour, until even Adina was visibly losing her patience. Then, finally, the runner came back and spoke some hurried words in the guards’ ears, glancing at Adina and the others.

  The two men paled visibly, and Aaron couldn’t help but smile at their obvious discomfort as they made their way over to him and the others. “Princess,” One said, bowing his head so l
ow that Aaron thought the man would tip over, “I ask that you please forgive us our … jokes. It can sometimes become … tedious standing and watching a gate all day.”

  Adina stared at the man, no smile in evidence now, her nose slightly up, her face regal and impatient, a princess in truth. “As tedious, I suspect, as standing in line for nearly an hour only to be spoken to like some tavern harlot by two guardsmen that should know better. As tedious, no doubt, as what most suffer each day, waiting in line for hours on end to see the queen only to be met with two fools such as yourselves.”

  The other guard swallowed, “Princess,” he said hurriedly, “we didn’t mean--“

  “Never mind what you meant,” Adina said, “for I know it well enough as do these with me,” she said, gesturing at Aaron and the others, “my companions who I expect will be treated with the respect you would show me.”

  “Of course, of course,” the first said, “Please, sirs, forgive us our jests. They were not given with ill will. Princess,” he said, turning back to Adina, “the Queen will see you now, if you and your companions are ready.”

  Aaron snorted, “Ready? Well, we were just now thinking about hanging around out here until the pool of sweat beneath our feet got big enough to swim in, but I suppose if you insist.”

  Adina smiled at him then turned back to the captain. “You see, guardsman? Jokes are supposed to be funny. Now, lead us to my sister and be quick about it—I’ve little patience left.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-ONE

  Aaron stifled a yawn, shifting in his chair to try to find a more comfortable position. They’d waited for nearly two hours outside the Queen’s audience chamber, and he wasn’t a man used to waiting around unless he was getting paid to do it.

  She intends to show Adina who rules here and who does not, Co said, a sneer in her voice, it is the way of nobles.

  I detect a bit of hostility there, firefly. Anyway, she makes us wait much longer, they’ll open the doors to a snoring sellsword. Or skeletons, maybe, depending on how much this Isabelle has to prove.