by Blink, Bob
There was little to be gained by answering the man. Rigo brought his staff around and held it in both hands. He was less than marginal with edged weapons, but his father had taught him a thing or two about fighting with the long wooden shaft and he’d practiced carefully. The outcome wasn’t as certain as this thug thought. Then Rigo heard the scrape along the dock behind him. He might have guessed. There were more of them. He backpedaled and shot a look over his shoulder to assess the situation. Two more that he could see. Both armed with knives rather than swords.
“Gut him,” one of the muggers whispered to the man with the sword from behind him.
As the swordsman advanced, Rigo heard the two men behind begin to move toward him as well. Rigo stepped around a heavy barrel that was sitting near the edge of the dock and flung out his right hand with the palm flat and upraised toward one of the two men attempting to sneak in behind him. Ten feet away, the man Rigo had targeted felt a heavy blow strike him in the chest and was shocked to find himself being flung off the edge of the pier into the water.
One down. Rigo had no time to repeat the maneuver, and returned his hand to his staff and turned toward the man who had initially confronted him. The man was already swinging his sword, the blade coming in low and fast with the intent of cutting Rigo’s legs out from under him. These men had no intent of taking him alive. They would gut him as the man had suggested, and toss his remains into the bay.
Rigo parried the blow with the staff, the blade biting deep into the wood of the pole with a solid “thunk”. The blade was driven so deep into the wood it didn’t immediately come free as the attacker had hoped, and Rigo was able to use his leverage to yank the weapon from the man’s hands. With a sharp flick of his wrist, Rigo caused the sword to break free of the staff and fly over his head into the water. That gave him a few moments to deal with the remaining attacker coming up from the other direction.
The man was cut from the same mold as the one he had taken the sword from. He was coming up quickly hoping to bury the knife he carried into Rigo’s back while his attention had been on the man in front. He hadn’t expected to see his friend disarmed so easily. Now he was too close to back away but not close enough to reach Rigo with the knife. Staffs and knives are not equal in such situations. With a suddenly flick of the long pole, Rigo whacked the man along the side of the head, causing him to drop limply to the dock.
Now there was one left. Rigo turned and faced his original attacker. The man had drawn his own short knife and was considering how to proceed. Clearly this one was more experienced than the other two, and now that he had seen how Rigo used the staff was watching it carefully looking for an opening.
“Let it go,” Rigo warned.
The attacker now faced a quandary of his own. He was too close to break off easily. If he tried, Rigo could more than likely chase him down and render him unconscious with the long reach of the staff. Also, he was obviously overmatched. As good as the man was with the knife, he wasn’t good enough to overcome the advantage of reach the man had with the staff. There was also the matter of what the man had done to fling the first of his cohorts off the pier. He still didn’t understand how that had been done.
The knife wielder lunged, faking an attack hoping to cause the staff carrying mark to make a mistake. If he couldn’t, this might end badly. The staff whistled by his head, and if it hadn’t been for his lightening reflexes he would have been on the dock with his partner. A couple of quick counter moves had Rigo backing up. Then Rigo did something that made no sense to his attacker. He simply let the staff fall to the dock as if surrendering. The attacker advanced, a wicked grin in place. He didn’t understand, but he also didn’t care. The victim was his now.
Then Rigo raised his two hands and brought them sharply together. The attacker was five feet away and had a brief moment to feel sharp blows on either side of his head before he crumpled unconscious, the knife falling from his hand.
Rigo looked at the fallen mugger and let out his breath. He hadn’t been sure he could do it, but his experiments back in Daro had suggested he should be able to. He was gratified to see his magic was as effective as he’d thought. He held out his hand and the staff leapt off the pier and smacked firmly into his grip. Rigo tested the man with the end of his staff to verify he was indeed unconscious, then advanced to have a closer look.
The small knife gleamed on the dock and Rigo picked it up. He couldn’t be certain in the moonlight, but the blade looked shiny with small ripples in the metal of the blade. He thought it might be pure Kellmore steel. Only the knife makers in the southern region of Kellmore knew how to make such blades. It was far better than his own, so he retrieved the leather sheath from the unconscious man’s belt, slipped the fine blade into it, and placed it on his own belt. He’d have a better look at it later.
These men were obviously muggers and killers and had intended to rob and murder him. He had felt no guilt then at returning the favor. He checked the man’s belt and discovered a small purse. He retrieved it and had a look. There wasn’t a fortune inside, but from the gleam of gold and silver there was more coin than Rigo had started this journey with. He slipped the purse onto his own belt and went to check the second man.
The knife this man had carried was far inferior and Rigo tossed it into the water without a concern. He found a second purse which he appropriated as well. He’d check the contents when he was safe at the inn. It would probably be a favor to everyone to slit the throats of these two vagabonds, but Rigo wasn’t built that way. He’d let them be. The one he’d tossed into the bay must have drowned since he’d heard nothing since the man struck the water. That was enough killing for one night. He wasn’t about to dispatch two unconscious men and didn’t want to deal with the authorities over the matter by reporting the attack. There were actions he’d taken he wouldn’t want to explain.
He stood and with a final glance headed back down the pier, turning toward the Rusty Anchor at the far end.
Chapter 5
When he was safely back in his room, Rigo heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed for the first time since the three men had braced him. His mind was in turmoil. He’d never killed anyone before, and he was certain that the man he’d tossed into the sea with a push powered by his magic had drowned. How could someone live by all this water and not know how to swim? Rigo had only wanted to take the attacker out of the fight and reduce the odds against himself. For that matter, he didn’t really know the fate of the other two. His father had warned him that knocking someone on the head hard enough to put them out could have grave consequences. While it might be said the men deserved whatever happened to them, Rigo wasn’t at ease with the thought he had most likely killed, even in self defense, and maybe more than once.
After lighting the candle in his room, he took the staff and ran his hand along the length, checking it for damage. As he expected, the time worn smooth surface was intact, even down near the bottom where the sword had hacked into the wood. There was no sign of the cut the blade had made during the fight. The staff had thrown off the damage and returned to its pristine state, if such a word could be applied to something that appeared worn and aged as the staff did. He’d seen similar damage shrugged off by the staff in the past. Once he’d had to use the staff to break into a burning building to help a trapped family back in Daro. The portion that had been thrust into the flames had been blackened and burned, but the next morning had lost all sign of the damage. There were several marks and dents on the staff, but those had been there from the first day Rigo had found it and he had decided they were a form of camouflage. A staff as old as this wasn’t supposed to look unmarked, so it had marks. He had never managed to add to the collection of scars the staff carried. Rigo didn’t know why or how the staff had come to be lost so close to where he lived, but he knew that, like himself, it had powers that were not to be found anywhere else.
He set the staff against the wall near the head of his bed and retrieved the two coin purses. The coins
inside clinked against one another as he upended the purses and allowed the contents to spill onto the top blanket of his cot. He set the purses aside and sat down to count his sudden wealth. He had no qualms about taking the coin. It was fair payment for the attack, and he knew the men would have taken more than money from him had they won the fight.
Six gold Royales, seven silver Falcons and twenty-two cents, which meant just over another two Falcons! The cents were of silver as well, but were made from the small centers punched out of the larger silver coins. The holes were flattened and repressed to make the smaller denomination coin. It took ten of them to add up to a full Falcon. Twenty-five falcons were required to make a full Royale. This was considerably more money than he’d had when his journey started. It wouldn’t even make a dent on the fee that Captain Narthum had quoted him for the voyage to Kal’Ran, but it would serve him well on his journey once he decided where he would be going next. He was surprised that the men had such a princely sum on their person.
A little numb, Rigo gathered up the coins and placed several of the Falcons in his own bag, gathering the others together and putting them back in the finer of the two remaining purses. The last one he would dispose of in the morning. The purse containing all the Royales and the majority of his new wealth he hid under the thin mattress of his cot. He’d have to think of a better way to hide the coins when he traveled, but at least having two separate containers for his coin would serve as a first level of hiding the money.
Finally, the adventures of the day began to weigh on him and he shed his clothes and slid beneath the covers on the cot. It took a surprisingly long time, but eventually he drifted off to sleep. He was surprised to open his eyes and see that the room was brightly lit by the morning sun.
When he left the inn a short while later, Rigo turned away from the docks and headed in the opposite direction. He’d seen the large marketplace as he’d come into Garth with Sall and now had reason to seek the place out. He had sufficient funds to consider a few additional purchases that would ease his travels. He had decided during the night that he would travel down the coast and loop inland toward Sulen when he was far enough south. Sulen was the capital, and if any place might have answers to some of his questions, that would likely be the place. It would take several weeks of travel, and he’d learned that the bag in which he carried his goods was not the most convenient for the extended walking he had been doing. He also thought that a better set of clothes would be appropriate.
The walk to the market center took more than forty-five minutes, but allowed him a chance to think. He was suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of money he carried and felt that everyone was aware of the fortune he had on his belt. He hadn’t felt comfortable leaving the coin in the room, and he wasn’t exactly comfortable carrying it on his person. He would have to get used to the idea, because he would have no choice as he traveled.
Finally he reached his destination and as he wandered among the shops and stalls he was distracted by the goods offered for sale. He found several items that he thought he would like, but then recalling Sall’s warning, walked away without buying when he was unable to bargain the price down near something he considered fair. As he’d been told, he found similar items elsewhere in the market, and in one case a far better choice for a smaller price. He found the clothes he sought, a carrying pack, and a special money belt that he could strap to his body under his clothes. That he purchased even though the price seemed high.
Finally he was finished, and he turned back toward the inn. He wandered back through the marketplace, this time seeing shops and vendors that he hadn’t paid any attention to while his mind had been focused on his shopping. Near the center of the market he spotted a large, cheerful tavern, that seemed to be doing a bustling business. That was always a good sign, and Rigo realized he was hungry, having not eaten since the dinner provided by the inn the previous night. He stepped inside and was directed to a small table off to one side.
“Wine, bir, or ale?” asked the comely young server who appeared at his side within moments of his being seated. Her costume bared her shoulders and revealed just a hint of tanned bosom under the cream colored blouse. She wore a long dark skirt that hid her feet and carried an oval platter on which Rigo assumed she delivered customers orders.
“The ale I think,” Rigo replied.
She nodded and pointed to a heavy piece of parchment attached to the wall. While I’m fetching your ale, you can consider your selection,” she said.
That was novel, Rigo thought. He’d never been in a place where the server didn’t simply tell one what was available. He read down the list and found several items that interested him. He could dine far better here than back at the inn. Of course, he didn’t know what the prices were, as they weren’t listed.
The woman returned with his ale, which was surprisingly cool and tasty. They discussed the items and prices, and Rigo made his selection. He drank his ale and considered his options while waiting.
He had another night to see what he could learn of the roads heading south. He suspected there would be multiple paths heading toward the capital. He didn’t want to go there direct, which would mean heading inland almost immediately. He preferred to travel along the coast for a while and see more of the vast ocean. He had to believe there was a major road headed that way, and once he was closer, a road that would take him to Sulen.
While he was mulling over the possibilities, the server returned with his selection. It was better than he could have hoped, and he dug in enthusiastically. By the time he had cleaned his plate he still wished for more, but realized he was full. The flavor of the dish more than his hunger was urging him for seconds, so he reluctantly finished off the excellent ale. On his way back out to the square, he noticed a gaming area off in one corner of the tavern. Several men were playing, and something drew him to watch.
Once again it was the ever popular dicing game. Four men were betting on the throw of the fifth man, and money was changing hands. Once again Rigo realized he could instinctively sense when to bet. He knew he could make some money if he joined the game, but was it fair? With his special ability, he had an unusual advantage. He decided his ability was borderline cheating. In one sense, he was using an innate skill, just as several of the others used their ability to read the faces and body language of their competition, he used what his mind told him. Still, his ability was truer than the skills the other players relied on. He was about to turn away when he suddenly sensed that the man who held the dice was cheating. Rigo wasn’t certain how the man was doing it, but he was certain it was the case.
That changed things. Rigo had no problem turning tables on a cheater. He wandered over and asked if he might join in. Eager for another pigeon to fleece, the man with the dice agreed, especially after Rigo produced several falcons to show he had the funds.
Rigo allowed himself to lose the first couple of tosses on which he bet. It was not a requirement to bet on any given toss, so he watched and jumped in periodically. He was down three Falcons when he seemingly boldly matched a bet by the cheater and won five Falcons back. Confident now that he’d had a chance to actually exploit his skill, Rigo played cautiously, careful not to always win, and careful to take the larger pots when the money was that of the cheater. Rigo attempted to lose back money he’d won from the others, but it was impossible to completely balance the exchange. In less than an hour he had won the equivalent of an additional eight Royales. He decided it was time to quit. The cheater was getting annoyed at his unexpected losses, and Rigo didn’t want to bring anymore attention to himself than he already had. He pulled back the rest of his winnings and left the game.
Rigo left the tavern and headed back out into the market square. He had learned a bit of caution after the previous night, and checked behind himself to see if anyone had followed. While he was waiting in a darkened shady spot watching the market behind him, he noticed a vendor selling charms and jewelry. Deciding he was less obvious if he appeared to
be shopping, Rigo wandered over to examine the merchandise. Almost immediately a man’s necklace with a heavy chain supporting a blue jeweled version of the Looped Circles of Risos caught his attention. Rigo wasn’t particularly a believer, but something about the necklace drew him.
“How much?” he asked the vendor.
Rigo shook his head at the stated price. He wasn’t in a mood to bargain, so turned and started away. The man called after him with a much reduced price. Rigo ignored him and continued on his way. Realizing he was about to lose a sale, the vendor called after him once again, this time with a price almost a tenth of the original request. Rigo hadn’t really been paying attention, having already almost forgotten the necklace, but then turned and repeated the number back at the vendor.
The man nodded sadly. Rigo considered, then walked back and handed the man the requested amount, taking the necklace in exchange. Upon examination, the necklace was used, with several dents and scratches in the chain and in the metal loops that encased the blue stone.
So, maybe not such a deal even at the price. Rigo shrugged and slipped the chain over his head. It hadn’t cost that much, and after his winnings he deserved to treat himself. Carrying his other purchases, he headed back to the Rusty Anchor.
“Master Rigo,” called the innkeeper as he was leaving the inn again some time later. He had considered his newly acquired wealth and was curious if he could afford to take a ship down the coast to Nulwar, which would put him much closer to the capital and provide him the opportunity to experience a short sea voyage.
“Wait for a moment,” the innkeeper urged, coming out from behind his desk.
Rigo turned back and met the man halfway.
“Are you headed to the docks?” the innkeeper asked.
