by C S Vass
“Oh, don’t give me those platitudes. They’re not deep and you’re not the first one to think of them.”
“Yaura, this was an assignment directly from the King. We are Shigata. We serve the Sages, who serve the King.”
“Never mind!” she snapped rather abruptly. “I wasn’t seeking your counsel. I was merely expressing an opinion and now I have. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Wait,” Godwin said as she started to spur on her horse. “We’re not ready.”
“Not ready?”
Godwin dismounted.
“Are we supposed to sit here while I freeze my tits off and you play in the snow?”
“We don’t know who he is,” Godwin said. “I have nothing but a generic description of him. I never got a good look at his face. We could easily take the wrong person by accident.”
Yaura was about to continue complaining but stopped abruptly when she saw Godwin taking out his vials. “I see. You’re going to play with your chemicals and make this nice and simple. You know, my father told me that men who played with potions were nothing but charlatans. Was he right, Godwin?”
He ignored her. Godwin had travelled with Yaura enough to know that any time they weren’t moving towards their goal she would be moving her mouth. He took out three different vials carefully strapped to a leather strip on his sword belt and inspected them closely.
“Rat tonic…virgin monk’s teeth, no, ah here we are.”
Grimacing, Yaura approached him. “Well, we might as well make this educational. What exactly are you doing?”
“Listen then if you want to take some piece of knowledge with you.” Godwin held up the smallest of the vials he had removed. There was a dull grey liquid inside. He then took out a small piece of torn clothing.
“This,” he said gesturing towards the vial, “is an essence extracted from the olfactory bulb of a bear.”
“The olfactory bulb of a bear?”
“Yes,” Godwin said. “I was hoping to save it for something more important. As you can imagine, they’re not exactly easy to come by. Even if I were in the business of bear-hunting, a guardian had to spend days in his laboratory tampering with this in ways I can’t even begin to understand.”
“And why are you planning on drinking bits of bear brains?”
“Because bears have the most sensitive noses in all of nature. Or more precisely, because bears have an olfactory bulb that contains a rather unique property. The magic is in the mitrial cells, you see.”
Godwin was positively grinning but Yaura merely scoffed. “I see this week’s magic lesson is going to be a bit beyond me.”
“You’re not alone. It’s far beyond me. This was no simple matter of drinking the essence of the olfactory bulb. But all the same, there is something unique that gives the bears such an incredible sense of smell. The mitrial cells produce some kind of magic not found in the comparable cells of other mammals.”
“I see,” Yaura said as she yawned. “Answer me this then, Godwin. Exactly how much did you pay the guardian to tinker around with these bear brains until he provided you with an adequate potion?”
“Let’s just say a lot.”
“A lot?”
“We’ll call it all of the gold I earned from killing a vampire near Brentos.”
Yaura scoffed. “You’re a fool. But that’s not my problem. Let’s get on with it then. What exactly do you plan on doing once you’ve consumed your potion?”
“I’m going to sniff.” He held the bit of cloth. “This was from Kanjo’s clothing. I found it in his cell. Once I pick up the scent, it should be easy to find him.”
“And if that’s not a piece of Kanjo’s torn clothing?”
“How do you mean?”
Yaura groaned.
“You do realize that they move prisoners around quite a bit in Snowpit. Different people spend time in different cells. For all you know that could belong to someone in the cell five prisoners ago. I doubt anyone is regularly cleaning them out.”
“Then I suppose we’ll find that out when my nose takes us back to Snowpit.”
Not waiting to hear any more of her complaints Godwin swallowed the brew in one swift gulp.
It was the single foulest thing he had ever tasted.
Gagging, he felt like his tongue had just touched liquid garbage. The sensation spread throughout his throat and up his sinuses while he choked and sputtered, retching in the snow.
“Godwin…Godwin! Are you choking? Are you poisoned?” Yaura really was starting to panic as he dropped to his knees. “Gods be damned…you fool. You’ve killed yourself drinking poison from some bloody guardian. He poisoned you so you wouldn’t come for revenge when you realized you wasted all your coin.”
She continued monologuing about the money-grubbing guardians, but Godwin couldn’t hear her. His whole face was on fire as he continued to dry heave.
The heavy, disgusting taste that had infected his body slowly began to recede. His vision blurred. As the terrible taste left him, it was replaced by other sensations. The smell of pine lay heavy in his nose. The crackling fires from the braziers overwhelmed his nostrils. From inside the inn—a feast fit for the gods. Roasting duck stews with potatoes and parsley. Someone that very moment was cracking black pepper into it.
In the privy, someone had just defecated.
“Godwin! Can you hear me?”
It took him a moment to realize that Yaura had been shaking him. “Stop, stop,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“Fine! You look like a dead man. I’ve never seen somebody who looked so poor. Your face is whiter than snow and your eyes. What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” Godwin grumbled. He was still adjusting to the assault on his nose. Not only had it improved its capabilities several thousand fold, but the potion seemed to have reduced his vision considerably. He could make out Yaura’s form, but her face was nothing but an obscure blur.
“They’re…not right. To look at you I’d think you were blind.”
“Well, that makes sense. I pretty much am.”
“What?” She shouted. “How are we supposed to go man-hunting when you’ve gone and blinded yourself? Of all the foolishness.”
“Calm down,” he said. “It’s fine. I don’t need to see. My nose. It’s incredible. I never knew such sensations existed. I can smell for miles.”
Godwin wasn’t able to see Yaura roll her eyes, but he could hear the contempt in her voice. “Excellent. That will come in handy when you smell Kanjo’s sword being shoved through your head.”
The notion gave Godwin paused. He hadn’t considered that while the ability to smell out Kanjo would be very helpful in tracking him, its benefits seemed far less promising when it came to actually defeating him in battle.
“Well, that’s why you’re here,” Godwin said. He felt around for the vials he had placed in the snow and carefully put them back in their proper homes. “I’ll do the tracking, and you’ll do the killing.”
Yaura snorted. “Typical. The plan is for me to do all the work. Your interest in new magic is deeply misguided, Godwin. Old magic is where the real power is. I met a dwarven witch once in the Frost Forest that could do things that—”
“If you want a pissing contest, then I’m sure there are some people at the bar who would be more than happy to get into one with you,” Godwin grumbled. “If you want to help me and claim ‘a generous portion of the reward,’ then come with me, and let’s handle this once and for all.”
“Can you see your way, or do you need me to hold your hand and guide you like a lost child?”
“I’ll manage on my own.”
They walked the horse and pony down the hill towards the outstretched wings of the crane. The sun had dipped completely below the horizon. Directly above Godwin could see the glow of the moon pushing through the wall of cloud, but no more than that.
Yaura paid a stable boy to deal with their beasts when they arrived. The inside of the Scr
eaming Crane was as welcoming as the outside had promised. The room was easily large enough to seat three or four hundred. A massive fire-pit had been dug down the length of the hall and blasted them with heat the moment they walked in.
Godwin had expected to be overwhelmed by the scent of cooking food, but he had not considered the smell of the people. The bodies of one hundred humans assaulted his nose like an olfactory army. The sweat, breath, and dirt that clung to each one were as distinct as their faces would have been could he have seen them properly.
“Is he here?” Yaura asked.
“I need a minute,” Godwin said. “I’m not used this. There are a lot of smells in a room this crowded.”
“Can I help you?” a rough voice asked. Godwin couldn’t make out the face but the smell was of fresh barley and fermented hops.
“Just having a look around,” Yaura said.
“A look around?” the man replied. “Forgive me folks, but you come in here armed and armored like that, and it’s making folks a tad uncomfortable. You scowling and this one bleary eyed as a drunk at the Wolf Moon Festival. Now, what can I help you with?”
“Perhaps some drinks in our hands would put you at ease,” Yaura growled.
Godwin couldn’t see, but he heard the man gasp and then smelled a strange scent that he somehow knew was fear. He suspected she had just shown the man her thrygta.
“Cold drinks then,” he said. “Right away. Does beer suit you?”
“Sure.”
The barkeep shuffled away.
“Godwin, we’re drawing unwanted attention. The longer we stay here the more likely Kanjo is going to know we’re after him and try to escape. Can you smell anything properly yet?”
Godwin took out the cloth and sniffed at it. It smelled like sweat. But a very particular kind of sweat. He turned his attention to the room, sniffing carefully. It took a strange kind of concentration to push aside the smells of all the other people, but he worked diligently.
Then he had it.
“He’s definitely here,” Godwin said, concentrating even harder. “Upstairs. He must be staying in a room. I think—”
“Cold beers for you then!”
The barkeep had returned and slammed the beers down on the table. To Godwin they smelled wonderful, hoppy and spiced, but that would have to wait.
“Barkeep,” Yaura said in a low voice. “We have business upstairs. King’s business. We’ll try to respect your establishment and not cause a commotion. I wanted to give you the courtesy of informing you of our intentions.”
Godwin could smell the sweat on the man’s forehead before his pores had even fully opened. “Ah, I…yes. King’s business you say. Of course. But, lady…if it’s possible. Please. No bloodshed here. Please.”
“I’ll see what I can do. It’s better for everyone if there’s no commotion.”
As they walked away, their cold beers left to sour, Godwin said, “That was a gamble. Informing the man of your intent. What if he knows Kanjo?”
“That seems highly unlikely, but even if he does, I don’t need a bear’s nose to smell the fear on him. He just wants us gone. I find that in tricky situations sometimes it’s better to have the owner of the establishment on your side.”
Godwin scoffed. “You’re fooling yourself if you think that he’s on our side. But I think you’re right. Kanjo’s here because this is the most convenient place for him to be. It would be a truly freak chance if the barkeep was somehow in on the plot to hide him.”
The laughter and merriment of downstairs quickly melted away as they ascended to the second floor. Long stretches of hallway draped in shadow made it so that Godwin was virtually blind. Even as he walked the length of the hallway, his sense of smell was disappearing and his vision was growing stronger.
“Hurry,” he said. “I believe the potion’s starting to wear off. He’s down here, this way.”
They continued along until they reached a door at the far end of the hallway on the south side of the building.
Godwin sniffed.
“He’s in there,” Godwin whispered.
Yaura nodded and kicked in the door.
Godwin and Yaura burst into the room, swords raised. They had expected an ambush. They had expected Kanjo to leap from a window. They had expected anything but what they saw.
“Welcome,” a weary voice said. “I see you’ve found me after all.”
The voice that spoke belonged to a thin teenager. Kanjo’s blue eyes stared at them serenely from the floor. He wore a ragged black cloak that draped his thin legs. A mop of dark hair fell to his eyes.
“You can put the blades away,” Kanjo said. “As you can see, I’m in no fit state to fight you.”
Godwin’s vision was quickly returning to him. The image in front of him was downright pathetic. Kanjo was clearly half-starved and appeared not to have so much as a dagger on him.
They stayed like that, swords raised while Kanjo looked back and forth between the two of them. Finally he sighed and said, “I see. You’re not here to take me back to Snowpit.”
“I’m afraid not,” Godwin said.
Kanjo chuckled sadly. There was a bottle of red wine on the floor next to him. He uncorked it and took a swallow. “That is disappointing to hear,” he said. “But I suppose there’s nothing to be done. Orders are orders.”
Godwin lowered his blade. “Indeed they are.”
“Very well. Before you do me in, I’d like to know who is here to claim my life. Are you Tarsurians, or some other faction that seeks to overthrow King Boldfrost?”
Godwin furrowed his brow in confusion, but Yaura pushed ahead. “Nice try, kid. We won’t be falling for that. Now how do you want to do this? I’d prefer not to splash your blood over the innkeeper’s nice room, but I don’t want to chase you down in the snow and cold if we take this outside. The choice is yours.”
That’s when Godwin saw it.
“Stop,” he said, hardly believing.
She turned to him. “What are you talking about?”
Godwin barely even heard her. He approached Kanjo cautiously, naked steel still in his hand. “Look.” He reached slowly for Kanjo’s neck. On it was a chain, and on the chain a silver dragon with chains wrapped around its snout.
Godwin and Yaura took the meaning two different ways.
“You’re Shigata!” he exclaimed.
“Which Shigata did you rob?” Yaura shouted at the same time.
“What are you talking about?” Kanjo said to Yaura. “I’m no thief. This thrygta is mine.”
“This cannot be,” Godwin said. Sheathing his blade he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the silver thrygta tattooed on his chest. Kanjo’s eyes widened.
“This isn’t right,” Yaura said.
“You too?” Kanjo asked.
Yaura nodded and revealed the thrygta pommel of her sword.
“Then…you two, you didn’t know I was Shigata?” Kanjo asked.
“No,” Godwin said. “But you’re barely old enough to hold a sword. You must have just received that thrygta.”
“I did. This year.”
“Then why do the Sages want you dead?” Yaura asked.
“They don’t! They can’t!” Kanjo was struggling to find words to speak.
“Contracts don’t lie,” Godwin said. “Something strange is going on here.”
“It’s a trick,” Yaura insisted. “It has to be. Godwin…they wouldn’t have us break our oath. He’s lying.”
Godwin shook his head. “No. None of this is right. Kanjo, speak now and tell me the truth. Why were you in prison?”
“And don’t lie,” Yaura said.
“Very well,” Kanjo said. “It all started several weeks ago. I had only been assigned my first contract. I left Unduyo ready to serve.”
“What was the contract?” Godwin asked.
“A werewolf near Hart. It had been harassing peasants, and they had finally rallied enough coin to hire a Shigata to deal with it.”
“More l
ies!” Yaura spat. “Werewolf contracts are rare and valuable. They would never assign one to a young punk on his first mission. Never!”
Godwin nodded. Yaura wasn’t wrong.
“Listen to me!” Kanjo pleaded. “You’re right. There was no werewolf contract. I arrived at the village to start tracking the beast, but soldiers were there waiting. They arrested me immediately. The whole thing was a trap. That’s how I ended up in Snowpit.”
Yaura was pacing now, clearly deeply troubled. “No, no,” she said. “None of this adds up. Who gave you the contract?”
“I don’t know,” Kanjo said. “I was staying at Unduyo and the orders arrived on parchment. They were unsigned.”
“That’s not so unusual,” Godwin said. “Not if he was staying within the walls of Unduyo, anyway.”
Yaura nodded. The Shigata’s fortress on Black Wolf was impregnable. There was little need for concern against a forgery making its way within its walls.
“This whole thing reeks of deception,” Yaura complained. “If the Sages had a grievance against him, they would have taken him within Unduyo. Same goes for if the King wanted him arrested. Why would they send him all the way to Hart?”
“Why indeed,” Godwin said. “Hart is close to Snowpit. Perhaps they wanted you there. But then why is our contract for your head and not simply to capture you?” He turned his eyes on Kanjo. “What do you know? Speak!”
“Nothing!” Kanjo trembled. “This has all caught me by surprise. I thought I was ready to serve the Shigata. I thought I had done well. But if the Sages want me dead…I don’t know why. I swear!”
“Why would the Sages want him dead?” Yaura asked. “And why would they ask you to break your oath? Godwin, we are Shigata. We are forbidden from taking the life of a comrade. It’s law.”
“Why would the Sages want you dead?” Godwin mused. “But…it wasn’t the Sages who assigned me this contract. Not directly. Is it possible they don’t know? No…damnit Torin, what do you know?”
Godwin was speaking more to himself than the others now. There were too many moving pieces to this mystery and he couldn’t keep them all straight.
“None of it adds up,” Yaura said. She turned angrily to Kanjo. “This reeks of manipulation! You stole a thrygta and thought that it would be your ticket to freedom should we catch you. It’s the only answer that makes sense.”
