Kestrel looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You can’t do it yourself?” he asked.
“I’ve never worn one before. I figured you’d know how to put it on me properly,” Hiram grinned weakly.
Kestrel rolled his eyes, dumbfounded by the exchange. “Are you sure you know the way to the city?” he asked as he pulled the belt into place, adjusted it on Hiram’s hips, then tightened it.
“Yes I do. I’ll do fine from here. The two of you just wait at the bridge and don’t get caught,” Hiram blustered in embarrassment, then immediately started walking away.
Kestrel looked at Hierodule, and saw the woman staring after her sibling, a look of compassion on her face. “That’s your brother?” he asked.
“Yes,” she drew out the single syllable.
“Let’s head to the bridge and wait there, instead of standing here,” Kestrel suggested, then took Hierodule’s arm and helped her along the road.
“Tell me who you are,” she said when they were seated in the shadow of the bridge. “You’re more than a man.
“Although you bleed like a man,” she looked down at his leg, where a patch of bright red blood was seeping into the material of his pants from the broken stitches on his wound.
“How did you catch me when I fell from the top of the temple? What was that?” she asked him. “I felt like nothing that exists in Uniontown’s territory anymore.”
“It was a power, a gift from the goddess, Kai,” Kestrel answered.
“She still exists? We were told that the old gods were dying, almost dead and forgotten,” Hierodule told him. “The masters said that their god is stronger than other gods, that they had killed other gods and they were doing the same thing here.
“Are you a god?” she asked.
“No! No, I’m just a man, who has been helped by the gods,” he decided it was better not to tell Hierodule that the woman she had seen at the healing spring had also been a goddess, one of the deities of the elves; the woman would think him such an outlandish liar that she would give no credence to his claim that he was actually on a simple mission to follow and save a girl, Moorin.
“Goddesses, elves, imps – you’re more than just a man. You kill the Masters, you beat soldiers. If it weren’t for the fact that you do bleed, I’d be convinced that you’re more than human,” Hierodule said. “Does your leg need treatment?”
“Not urgently,” Kestrel answered. He looked around and saw no one else in their vicinity, the other drifters who lived under the bridge having fled from the area when all the combat began down river. He lay back and closed his eyes to rest, and to wonder what the future held. He never would have planned under any circumstances to try to travel to Uniontown in the company of a pregnant woman and her brother, yet that was precisely the situation he faced. His journey would be slower and more complicated than it needed to be.
The alternative though, seemed to be to leave Hierodule behind, in a city where she had tried to commit suicide. It shouldn’t be his concern, he told himself, because there were bigger issues involved in trying to defeat the Viathins of Uniontown. But fate had put him on the exact roof at the exact time that Hierodule had jumped from the roof, and he took that as a sign that he was meant to look after her.
“Are you sure you want to go on this journey?” he asked, not opening his eyes as he spoke. “Is there someplace you could go to hide and rest safely? This trip will be a difficult one for you.”
“I will not be a burden for you on this journey, but if you do not wish to take me, I understand,” he heard Hierodule answer.
“I think the journey to Uniontown will be very arduous, and very dangerous,” Kestrel said carefully. “Do you think it will be safe for you?”
“It will be safer than trying to stay in Lakeview, and without me, I’m not sure you will be able to get to Uniontown. You haven’t forgotten those purple eyes in your face, have you? You’ll never be able to show your face any place along the way with eyes like that,” she said insistently.
Kestrel lay silent as he thought. “Do what is best for yourself Hierodule, and if that is to travel with me, then we’ll say no more about the subject,” he finally spoke.
“Then there’s nothing more to be said. The three of us will leave as soon as Hiram returns,” she said, and then there was silence between them.
Kestrel fell into a drowsy slumber, and only woke an hour later when Hierodule spoke. “Hiram’s been gone an awfully long time.”
“Do you think he’s having trouble?” Kestrel asked. He pushed himself up as he opened his eyes.
“I’m afraid so,” she answered. “Maybe we need to go check on him.”
“Didn’t you say the city isn’t safe for either of us?” Kestrel quizzed.
“It’s not,” Hierodule admitted, “but it wasn’t safe for Hiram to go into the city carrying all that money and he did it for us.”
“What’s the best way for us to get into the city safely?” Kestrel asked with resignation.
“I need to change out of these robes; I can’t go in dressed as a pregnant priestess. And you’ll need to go in with your blindfold on,” Hierodule suggested.
“Where do we get new clothes for you?” Kestrel asked, rising to his feet.
“Here,” Hierodule held her hands up and waited for Kestrel to help her rise to her feet. “Help me take this off,” she said as she began to raise her robe over her head. Kestrel helped her remove the heavy material, so that she stood in her shift.
“You’re going to go to the city in your underwear?” he asked, puzzled.
“No,” Hierodule answered. She shoved the pile of clothing at Kestrel. “Here, carry this. We’re going to take it up to the road and trade it for something else I can wear. There will be plenty of travelers happy to have such heavy material.”
Her prediction turned out to be correct, as a family traded a threadbare dress for the gown, with the prospect of converting the gown into blankets for their children. The dress fit the priestess poorly, as she left the buttons in the front of her protruding belly undone, exposing an expanse of the white shift she wore beneath, to the amusement of the other travelers they passed as they walked on the road towards the city, making her complain.
“You’re helping to make others smile,” Kestrel pointed out with a grin as she complained about the garment. “That’s something good.”
“Here, now it’s time to put your blindfold on,” she answered, ignoring his humor.
He quietly submitted as she tied the band of cloth around his eyes again, then he adjusted it slightly as he had before, allowing a sliver of visibility to remain below the cloth. They started onward towards the city again, Kestrel uncertain about the likely outcome.
He had no imps available to help him. As of just a few hours before, the imps had ceased to be a part of his journey; they were still a part of his heart, but they were now settled into their home in the Swampy Morass and unable to fly to his rescue until the end of winter.
Without the imps, and without any healing water to rely upon, Kestrel knew that he had no margin for error, nothing that would help him overcome misjudgments or mistakes, as had happened so often in the past.
They approached the city walls, and Kestrel kept his head up, trying to increase the usefulness of the little bit of vision he had preserved.
“Hey sister, need to button that dress?” one of the guards at the gate laughed.
Kestrel felt Hierodule’s hand squeeze his tightly, and he squeezed back. They passed through the gate without any retort on her part, and began walking through the city streets, which were thronging with activity.
“The money-changers are this way,” she pulled him into an alley after just a few minutes’ walk, and his limited scope of vision became useless in the murky dimness of the narrow way.
“Have you seen my brother?” Kestrel suddenly heard Hierodule’s voice ask someone, and he heard the scuffling of feet. “He came to change some coins from outside the realm.”
“Come this way. We’ll try the next one,” Hierodule told Kestrel in a low voice, and she pulled him further into the alley.
“My brother came to change some money. Did you see him in here?” Kestrel heard the priestess ask another unseen vendor in the dark market place.
“What kind of money?” a deep voice asked.
“Money from North Harbor, the Northern Elves. Maybe some from Hydrotaz,” Kestrel spoke up.
“He came by here. I didn’t help him; I have a hard time moving those kinds of coins,” the man responded.
“Where did he go?” Kestrel heard Hierodule ask.
There was silence.
“Do you know where he went?” Kestrel spoke up.
“Bosox took him,” the man answered in a quieter voice.
“Who’s Bosox?” Hierodule asked.
“He’s the trader you never want to have to try to deal with,” the other trader told them.
“Is he still here?” Kestrel asked.
“You don’t want to meet him. Just go on your way,” the other man answered.
“It’s my brother. I want to find out where he is. The money isn’t important,” Hierodule answered.
“That’s good, because it’s gone. And so is your brother, so just save yourself and go on,” the trader seemed to give his final comment. Kestrel heard him shuffle something, then walk away.
“I’m not going to abandon Hiram,” Hierodule told Kestrel sternly. “Be ready to use your fighting abilities.” She tugged on his hand and they went further into the alleyway.
“I’m looking for Bosox,” Hierodule said moments later.
“That’s him over there,” another voice replied, and Kestrel was dragged further on.
“Do you know where my brother is?” Hierodule asked moments later.
Kestrel heard a pause, and several pairs of feet moved across the littered alley surface, crunching debris beneath their boots.
“Oh,” a crude voice answered. “I’d say he’s about a mile upstream by now.”
“What do you mean?” Hierodule asked in a tremulous tone.
“He’s building up some muscle. The guy was too weak,” a voice on the right said.
“What do you mean?” Hierodule asked in a fainter tone.
“He was stupid, just like you’re on the edge of being stupid. He brought too much money here at once, he couldn’t defend himself, so we worked out a deal – I’ve got all his money and he got sold to a galley owner who needed a crew member immediately to move an important delivery upstream to Uniontown,” the first voice, the crude one, answered.
“I’d suggest the two of you can join him, but neither of you look particularly fit,” the man added, “so run along and leave me alone.”
Kestrel trembled with anticipation. He was sure Hierodule was going to tell him to fight. He had Lucretia, good to kill one of the men around him, but he had given his sword away to Hiram, and his bow was no weapon for hand-to-hand combat. The situation didn’t bode well. He could perhaps take the sword from his first victim, he calculated.
“Which galley owner? What did the ship look like?” Hierodule asked.
“What does it matter?” the moneychanger asked.
“I want to know,” Hierodule answered.
“Yanke owns a fleet of shipping for the river and the seas. Yanke bought your brother. Now leave immediately or something else will happen,” the man’s tone was flat and final.
Hierodule pulled Kestrel along, back the way they came. “We’re ten paces away from four men,” she said quietly. “Can you kill them all?”
“If we go twenty paces will I have a clean shot at them?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said succinctly.
“Tell me when,” Kestrel answered, sharing her desire for revenge on the unscrupulous gang.
“Now,” Hierodule said calmly two steps later.
Kestrel stopped and pulled his bow off his shoulder. The wood felt good in his hand once again, calming and reassuring him. He pulled an arrow from his quiver as he turned.
“Go on, get out of here, you losers,” a voice called.
Kestrel removed his blindfold, then blinked his eyes into vision as he raised the bow. Two men who were filthy, each looking as though he carried a loathsome disease, were standing closest, in front of a fat man and a thin, undersized rat of a man, one who looked so thin Kestrel expected his bones to burst through the thin layer of skin that stretched tight across his body. Kestrel calmly released his first arrow, then pulled out the second arrow and released it as well.
“Hey!” one of the men exclaimed just a second before the arrow struck his chest, causing the others to raise their heads.
Kestrel released a third arrow, and the rat-faced man was the only one left, as the large man, tumbled off his stool with an arrow through his throat. Kestrel calmly pulled out Lucretia while the lone survivor scurried out of sight, then threw the knife and watched it disappear around the corner where the man had gone.
“I’ll be a,” Hierodule left her exclamation unfinished as she watched the knife disappear, then heard the man yelp.
Kestrel purposefully strode forward to the three dead bodies. He bent over the barrel-chested man who had fallen off the stool.
“What are you doing?” Hierodule asked. “We need to get away from here!”
“If he was the money-changer, he must have some money, and we need it. And I want my arrows back,” Kestrel added.
He lifted the stool and saw a metal box beneath, a box that was extremely heavy when Kestrel lifted it.
“Come here,” he called as he opened the lid and saw the glittering chambers of shiny coins within. He rose and began to pull his arrows free from his victims while Hierodule hastily poured coins in her pockets. He did the same after he wiped the arrows clean on the cloaks of his victims, appropriated one of their swords, then pulled his blindfold back up into place.
“Lucretia,” he called, and held his hand open to receive the knife and restore it to its sheath on his hip. “We’re ready to go,” he told Hierodule.
She grabbed his arm and began to lead him away from the bloody scene in the alley.
“I’m surprised to see you come out,” Kestrel heard the remark spoken by the voice of the first man they had encountered. “Did you see Bosox?”
“He was good to us,” Kestrel said as they hurried by.
“Come on,” Hierodule urged, pulling Kestrel along at the fastest pace he imagined she was capable of. He stumbled over debris in the street as she spoke.
“You need to slow down, or warn me,” Kestrel replied.
“We need to hurry,” Hierodule responded.
“What’s the hurry?” Kestrel said. “Are the moneychangers after us?”
“No, we need to get to the docks,” Hierodule told him.
Kestrel came to a full stop. He felt Hierodule jerk to a stop as well, and then he felt some other pedestrian bump into him.
“Why are we going to the docks?” he asked.
“Come along, and I’ll tell you,” Hierodule spoke in a pleading voice.
“I hope we might be able to find Hiram before he ships out,” Hierodule told Kestrel. “And I was thinking,” she paused, without finishing the sentence.
“What were you thinking?” Kestrel prompted.
“If Hiram has shipped out, we’re not going to catch him by walking south. But,” she lowered her voice, and Kestrel sensed she was very close to him, as he felt her brush against his shoulder while their pace slowed down, “we’ve stole enough money from the money-changer we can afford to ride another ship down the river after him.”
“That’s a bloody good idea!” Kestrel told her. “Let’s hurry,” he told her, and felt her pull away from him as she tried to resume her previous frantic pace of moving along the crowded city streets as evening began to fall.
“We’re close to the river docks,” Hierodule told hi
m minutes later as they slowed down. Kestrel listened to the noises of horse-drawn wagons, and the sounds of ships splashing through the water. There was a bewildering onslaught of shouts and curses and directions, more than Kestrel could decipher.
“Which way is Yanke’s dock?” Hierodule asked someone.
“About two hundred yards down that way,” the man answered, and Kestrel felt himself being dragged to the left.
“What’s going on? Where are we going?” Kestrel asked a moment later
“We’re going to go in Yanke’s office now,” Hierodule told Kestrel. He heard the sound of a door open, and then Hierodule pulled him into a warm office space. He heard the door close behind him, and the shuffling of feet and paper. A chair squeaked across the floor.
“What do you need?” someone asked ungraciously.
“A galley to Uniontown. Do you have one ready to go? Have any sailed south today?” Hierodule asked.
“Yes and yes,” the other person answered.
“Yes what?” Kestrel asked.
“Yes, we have a galley almost ready to go, and yes we already sent one up river today,” the man’s voice answered.
“Was there a, a last minute man added as a rower?” Hierodule asked.
“There’s always a last minute rower added if we don’t have a master bringing his own crew along. Do you know how hard it is to find men to row a galley in the first place, especially going towards Uniontown?” the man answered with a rhetorical question.
“Did you use a man from Bosox?” Kestrel asked.
There was a pause. “Why? Does it matter? Did he say something?” Yanke asked.
“He said he sold my brother to you,” Hierodule said flatly.
“We may have had a late arrival show up, but I’m sure he was voluntary,” Yanke said defensively. “We don’t ask many questions, especially when we’re given a special package and told to deliver it to the Uniontown temple at the highest speed possible.”
“So my brother is rushing up river right now?” Hierodule asked.
“I don’t know about your brother exactly, but I know our boat left here two hours ago at full speed.”
“How quickly can your next boat leave?” Hierodule asked.
“We’re just one man short of a rowing crew. If your blind man wants to earn his way up the river, we won’t charge you for the fare, and you can have your own cabin,” Yanke offered a deal.
The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown Page 14
