Book 2 Dead Man's Hand: The Knights of the Golden Dragon

by Troy Reaves

  “We hate to lose you, Boremac, especially tonight with such luck favoring all of us for once. Still we would not trouble you for forsaking us in light of the offer of better company. Remember, my friend, that they say unlucky at cards gives luck in love. I do hope that is true and you have much luck so that we can empty your pockets tomorrow night. Treat him well, lass.” Monetarl, the man who had spoken and was currently dealer, slid Boremac’s two cards into the deck without looking at them, as was the custom, and nodded around the table. Once all the men indicated they would remain, Dead Man’s Hand resumed at the table. Only Herof, who had been seated next to Boremac while they gambled, took any time to be distracted by the couple’s departure. He leaned back in his chair just enough to swat Jasmine on her rump as she turned away.

  Her reply was swift in both word and deed. Herof barely had time to bring his arm back to his side before the imprint her hand left on his forehead flushed a deep crimson, followed quickly by the rest of his face. “You have to be quicker than that, old man, and beside I doubt you would know what to do if I lingered.” Herof grinned widely and nodded to her in answer, turning back to the table and the chuckles at his expense. Boremac, for his part, put a protective arm around her lower back and was surprised when she allowed it to remain.

  Boremac’s pleasure was short-lived as Jasmine led him out into the street and toward The Iron Hammer, the tavern usually favored by the locals, which meant she was seeking a quiet place to talk. He tightened the fingers of the hand that held her, shifting his arm a bit lower down her back, intent on validating his assumptions. He was slightly disappointed, but not surprised, when she responded by dragging his hand further up from her hips and patting his hand. “Tonight we talk, Boremac. Behave.” Her soft voice did little to bank the fire in his belly. He did take comfort that at least no more fuel was added.

  They found a quiet corner in the tavern, not difficult at this hour with most of the usual clients having gone home or to the rooms over the main floor, and Landual looked pleased to see them both. He said as much when he came over to take their orders. “I seem to’ave won a round this eve! Me champion returnin’ and bringin’ a fair lady wit’ em at that! Good to’ave you, miss. Let me know anythin’ ya need while I serve ya’. I keep some finer drink for the rare times we get ladies’ere.” The tavern keeper turned to Boremac with a scowl. “Don’ be runnin’ the lady off wit’ your broodin’. She look as though she be one ta keep.”

  Jasmine smiled at the dour man, answering before Boremac could form an appropriate response. “Whether to keep me or no is not a point of discussion quite yet, Master Landual. Still I do appreciate the inferred compliment and I thank you. A glass of wine of your choosing would be nice. Boremac, what will you have?”

  “No need ta ask ‘im that, lass. I know what he favors. Dark ale, which suits me fine. Drinks like one of me own, he does. I will fetch ‘em directly,” Landual stated, and turned back toward the bar.

  The last thing she said to Landual once he returned to their table was simply… “Make sure that our drinks to not go dry this evening. He will be paying.”

  “I be insistin’ on both points.” He glanced at Boremac and stated. “She be definitely a keeper.”

  “Interesting individual, he seems to like you quite a bit,” Jasmine stated. “A bit of a mother hen, I think, but there is no harm in that or in him. I see you have given up the name you were using. Jun let me in on your secret after you left. I wondered how long it would take. Two faces are difficult to maintain, even for one well trained in the art of deception.”

  Boremac was startled by her last words but managed not to show it. He replied evenly without pause. “I think you assume more than you should. I used the name for reasons of my own and found there was no need for it after meeting with the guild master. He knows a great deal about those he chooses to deal with and appears to covet those he wishes to serve him. It turns out that I had underestimated his reach and influence. The guild master tidied up my past for me even before I had returned. It seems he was certain I would return, even when I was not.”

  “You must have made quite an impression. He does things his own way, sometime for sport and sometime for influence, but never without potential gain. He is single minded in that at least. So what was your sin?” asked Jasmine. Boremac noted there was more than casual interest in her eyes.

  “That is a difficult question to answer,” replied Boremac, flatly. “Soldiers commit many’sins’ in the line of duty. What is considered murder any other time is considered victory when the one killed is a clearly defined enemy. My failure was trusting the honor of the one I followed, and I paid the price for my naiveté; the loss of my station, the loss of my future, and the loss of my home.” There was enough truth in Boremac’s words to bring the appropriate facial expression to his features with no effort. He looked into the dark ale in front of him, searching for answers to questions he had no reason to continue asking. The past was past and could not be changed. His future was before him and looked more promising than he could have hoped.

  “You should lighten your grip on the handle, Boremac,” said Jasmine as she reached out and lightly wrapped her fingers around his wrist to aid in the process, her voice colored with concern. He laid his hand on the table, reaching across it so that Jasmine could maintain her own grip on his arm. Her touch felt as though it healed his troubled mind, and the effect was singular in that he felt certain he would find no lasting comfort elsewhere. Boremac felt silly with this thought and laughed out loud, hoping to shame it out of his head. Jasmine maintained a relaxed grip on his forearm, even as one of her eyebrows shot up quizzically. “What is so funny?” she said.

  Boremac tried to quiet himself but the look on her face only made him laugh more. He was able to bring himself under control soon, but not before Jasmine had withdrawn her touch. He became very serious almost instantly. “I assign powers to you that the Goddess Alchendia would envy. I know nothing about you except that you are a good card player and a good soul, the second which I based solely on my rescue at the river. The attentions of other women pale at the touch of your hand. Jasmine, I must apologize for my laughter. It seemed there was no other response that was appropriate. I have never been smitten like a young man, even when I was a young man! The whole thing is rather amusing, I think.”

  “I know.” Jasmine sat back in her chair and looked directly into his eyes. “I suspected such a thing would happen and it worried me at first. You are an interesting riddle to me but little more. Do not think I am insulting you or your feelings. That is not my intention. I would only encourage you to master them so that we can continue to explore one another. I believe each of us can teach the other a great deal over time, Boremac. So far you are much less boring than most of the men that pass through, and frequent, Verson, at least that is the general feeling among the tavern ladies. I will leave you to them in that and take their word for it.” She smiled wickedly at him just then as if she were a barn cat and he a field mouse. Boreamac found the smile oddly enticing. He was certain that was her intention. “We should get on to more important things, I think you can agree.” She allowed him to make the next move as she finished speaking.

  Boremac nodded by way of reply. “I spoke with Vas when I arrived in town. He was a solid player at the tables I frequented on occasion and, for the most part, a gentle person. He had kind words for you. He has accepted his fate for his actions and knows full well he will probably hang once he has faced trial in Travelflor. He did ask me to do what I can to get him a proper burial and blessing once he is dead. He has no means to pay for the services of the Deathbringers, and sadly I have no way to assist him with this item.”

  Boremac held up a hand to interrupt her, stating his thought without preface. “It will be handled.”

  “He thought you might say something to that effect and sends his thanks. I will miss him though I barely knew him, except for his cunning at Dead Man. He was not the brightest one but he had talen
t, or intuition perhaps, where the fall of cards were concerned. I would not have thought he could be so readily carried off by his temper.” She shook her head before continuing. “You have made quite a name for yourself. Why are you brooding in taverns instead of taking up offers of employment? It would seem counter to making your fortune as a sell sword.”

  “I do not know if I am cut out for hunting men, and I know that protecting merchants from bandits would suit me even less. I do not share the blood lust, or even the tracking ability, of most seasoned hunters. Vas had two companions with him when I found him. I killed them both in cold blood. It was little more than murder, though no court will ever try me for it. Vas and those two bodies left in the wilds weigh on me.” Boremac lowered his eyes, once again seeking answers in his drink. There was only darkness.

  “As you wish, Boremac,” she stated without inflection. “I am in no position to judge you either way. Vas, on the other hand, has some very well formed judgments he has made about you while he is awaiting the trip to Travelflor. He noted that when the orcs were dead, a killing he would have performed himself soon enough by the way, you did not kill him. You offered him a bargain, of sorts, which he feels now he should have taken. Hindsight is always like that, too clear too late. What would you have done if he had handed over his axe and taken your coin?”

  Boremac had not thought about that at the time when Vas was still labeled ‘The Cannibal’ to him. Now of late that question had plagued him more often than any other. He would like to have thought that he would have followed the example of the man who had given him his blades, the mercenary that the urchins had plagued in Travelflor so long ago. The best known mercenary in the lands had let Frost go, violating the letter of the contract by he which he was bound and letting people judge the bounty hunter as they would for his presumed failure. Boremac was not known, however; a similar action on his part would have led to at least a rebuke or at the worst a trial in which he would have been exposed. The latter would have potentially shortened his lifespan significantly. He was certain that if he had not managed to earn the protection of the guild master in Verson, Rinoba would have bided his time until he felt he was safe having Boremac killed. There was no greater threat, at least to Boremac, than being able to expose Rinoba’s duplicity. The last thing Rinoba wanted was to give Alchendia’s Path a reason to bring him, and his bid for the seat of control in the guild, under scrutiny. He appeared so far to be doing well at minimizing the damage caused by Boremac’s escape.

  Jasmine seemed to be reading his thoughts as she mirrored them in her words. “You could have done nothing different with Vas. You are an unknown in Verson with a past that still haunts you for some reason. Jun, to his credit, has been less than forthcoming despite my… persistence in requesting more information about you. He is protecting you for some reason, very unlike Jun as I know the man, anyway. I doubt it is out of fondness.”

  “His reasons are his own and he has told me little more than you concerning his interest in me. He has a habit of turning up in my life at the strangest times and always putting me in a position that is like a double edged sword. It is only luck that has kept me from cutting off my own head in my dealings with him.” Boremac said, smiling with thoughts of his first encounter with Jun in Lord Bartem’s dungeon. He wondered just how much Jun had influenced his paths so far. He shook his head to dismiss that line of thought and brought himself back to the present. “No, Jun does what he does with no counsel but his own, at least so far as I can tell.”

  “He is a closed book locked in a strong box that is well secured,” stated Jasmine. “He is entertaining company though and tells very interesting stories when the mood takes him. It is curious that such a man, wealthy to all appearances, entertaining with an easy charm and even cute after a fashion even if he is not as blessed as… well, you, has not found a better companion than myself.”

  Boremac interrupted her immediately. “I can think of no better companion than you. I am sure he would agree and I envy him for having your… attentions.” He looked intently into her eyes, waiting for a reply on which he placed a dangerous amount of weight.

  She smiled before replying. “You mistake my meaning, Boremac. Jun is a gentle person who treats me with the upmost respect. He has no hidden designs on exploring our relationship beyond shared stories over drink. A pleasant change over my normal dealings with the men of this city. You should take me back over to The Worthy Blade.” She broke her eyes away from his own, with some reluctance he hoped, and rose to move toward the door, breaking their contact. She walked ahead of him, not looking back to see if he followed. “There will be rumors enough shared about us tomorrow as it is without us adding any more reason for people to gossip. I hope you do not have any problems convincing your admiring ladies that I have not laid claim to you.”

  Boremac did not need to see her face to know she was grinning as he followed dutifully behind her. He wondered if she even realized that, despite her stated intentions, she had in fact laid claim to him, or at least to his foolish heart. When they parted ways at the step leading into The Worthy Blade, he turned away abruptly, not wanting to linger to watch her go. He shook his head as he broke her hold and pushed himself toward The Iron Hammer. He shoved the door aside with a bit more force than he intended, cursing under his breath as he did.

  “I need a strong drink, Landual.” His words came out in a nearly unintelligible growl but Landual had been running his tavern too long not to understand.

  He placed three small glasses on the counter, flanked by a mug of dark ale at either side of the row, as Boremac took a seat. “I know tha’ ya do, lad, I know tha’ ya do.” The odd pair drank together until Boremac slipped into the darkness and Landual carried him up to his room.

  28

  Riding Lessons

  Jasmine did not appear the next night and Boremac’s inquiries were met with blank faces and open smiles in equal measure. Herof was the only one that offered any solace to him, and damn little to his liking. “She comes and goes as she pleases, something you would do well to learn. Do not think you are alone in the lesson, Boremac. We all know that the easy hands are the most welcomed but the ones that we are certain we cannot win are the ones we most prize when Alchendia smiles, in cards and with ladies. Luck be with you in Dead Man because you will find no luck with that one to be sure.” Herof patted him on the shoulder as if he were a young hunter who had failed to make the shot on his first deer. This only made Boremac resent the fatherly act more.

  Boremac knew full well he would be the subject of much conversation as he left The Worthy Blade. It was time to meet with Jun. Time to get on with his new work or forgo the title of bounty hunter altogether. He felt sure Jun would have some counsel to inflict on him. He found he was almost disappointed when Jun did not.

  “Ah, good of you to come!” Jun giggled in his disconcerting way. “I was wondering when you would grace me with your presence again. Several contracts that specifically requested your attention have come and gone during your rest. I have had to utilize all my guile and charm to convince the master of Verson that you are still working at all. When your newest hero is unavailable, making a living becomes somewhat taxing. Please inspect these contracts and let me know which you feel suits you. I have arranged a variety due to your recent… issues… with the capture of Vascetur. I, too, was sorry to see the man fall. He was solid folk, despite his temper, and an amusing opponent across the table. You did well bringing him in alive. Your skill and cunning have been noted by many who knew the other hunters who fell in their attempts to capture him.”

  “Thank you, Jun.” Boremac stated coldly. “What do you have for me?”

  Jun’s grin never wavered as he outlined the potential contracts. There was a bounty for a man who made off with the dowry of the daughter of a local landholder. “When he is found there will be a solid thrashing in his future,” said Jun. “The man is offering more than the dowry just to have the rake returned to him unharmed. He m
ust be planning to inflict all manner of harm himself, within the confines of law I am sure.” Two merchants, leaving for Travelflor and Nactium respectively, were currently in a minor bidding war for Boremac’s protection. They had already purchased the services of other guards but wanted Verson’s new champion leading their respective mercenaries. The men, constantly in competition with one another, felt it was a matter of pride. The last contract dealt with horse thieves. The thieves had already offered to receive a payment for the return of the horse, one of the prized retired war horses of the Governor of Bursim, one of the land’s larger cities in the east known for the war horses they bred. The governor in question had no intention of paying the thieves and establishing a habit of bargaining with their ilk. He had no desire to lose the horse but if it could not be taken, he would rather it be killed. The bounty for the horse was double if it was returned unharmed along with the head of the leader of the horse thieves. “It will be bloody work either way, Boremac. This particular governor, Master Shinan by name, is a cold one and most efficient in his duties, if a bit brutal at times. The guards entrusted with the duty of protecting the horses already have been hung and replaced. I think the protection details would better suit you at this time. Someone more seasoned should probably be sent for the horse.”