Grog II: Book 2 of the Ebon Blades

by RW Krpoun

  “You six,” she pointed with her short staff, which had been riding behind her belt; it was about three feet long, made of what looked like ivory banded with silver, set with blue gems that matched her earrings, and was very ornately carved. “Leave. Your business with my two employees is over.”

  Slowly the ambulatory thugs assisted their downed comrades to their feet and helped them limp away. That was the funny thing about Provine Sael: she was just shy of two feet shorter than me, but she always seemed to be looking down at whoever she was talking to, and people tended to obey her.

  As the thugs rounded a corner she turned her icy attention to Burk and me. “So you decided the best use for your time off was to start a street war? I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t killed anyone.” Her icy look flickered. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

  “No, mistress,” we mumbled.

  “I’m not your mistress,” she snapped. “You’re free. Grog bend down.” She stepped over and touched my ear, muttering under her breath. The torn flesh tingled as the ripped tissue healed under her touch. “There. What possessed you to send half the criminals in Merrywine to the temple chirugeons?”

  “They were extorting the people, Provine,” Burk muttered.

  “Extorting?”

  “Taxing them, every day, every sale.”

  She shook her head and shifted her feet. As the season moved deeper into summer she had put aside her trademark white fur cloak, and wore a thigh-length tunic in gray, and brown leggings of moleskin tucked into calf-high boots. A belt of braided leather supported a silver-hilted dagger and short sword whose pommels had blue gems that matched those at her ears. “So they hired you? The shopkeepers?”

  “No, mist…Provine.”

  He was stuck in it, so I waded in to take my share. “We are of the Ebon Blades, a proper barracks of the old school, and Red Guardsmen besides. The Watch could do nothing, so we decided to…,” I struggled for words. “To do what we could.”

  She was staring down the street. “Some warriors, upon finding themselves with money and free time, would busy themselves with whores and ale. Especially given the trials we have recently endured.”

  I shrugged, as did Burk.

  Provine sighed and turned to face the Temple guards. “Thank you. My bodyguards can handle my security for the rest of today.”

  They saluted and left. Provine Sael watched them go until they were out of sight. Turning back to us, she frowned. “What have you been doing since we split up?”

  Burk was staring at her boots, so I spoke up. “We have been staying at our camp, training, reading, studying the Guards handbook. We lunch in town most days, and have a look about.”

  “We saw a puppet show. Twice,” Burk added.

  Provine closed her eyes for a second. “So basically, you’ve been waiting for the group to re-assemble.”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed. “A puppet show?”

  “It was good,” Burk said defensively.

  “We never saw one before,” I added. “And then Broken Johnny’s collectors came to take half the puppet-folk’s earnings, and things just…well, we ended up here.”

  “All right, take me to this Crooked Johnny,”

  “Broken Johnny, Provine.”

  Escort jobs in Fellhome had taught us about navigating in cities, and we had no problem re-tracing our steps.

  “This is a dangerous man,” I warned Provine Sael as we neared the building. “Yesterday he threatened to kill us.”

  She shot me a glance but said nothing.

  A couple thugs loitered in front of the gate-less gateway leading to the back courtyard; they straightened up when they saw us coming, but Provine Sael marched up to them without a qualm. “Tell this ‘Broken Johnny’ to come here,” she advised the right-hand sentry.

  He stared at her, clearly flustered. “Ah…”

  “Go!” she snapped. “Tell him I am here to end this brawling.”

  He trotted off, and we waited. Burk took his Stance and stared at the other guard until the man couldn’t stand still. I studied the building, trying to work out where the crossbowmen were.

  Presently Broken Johnny appeared, dressed in different but equally expensive clothes, and trailed by the sentry and four bodyguards in full battle harness. “Ah, I see that Provine Sael has graced me with her presence.” He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was wondering when that would happen.”

  “This nonsense ends,” she snapped. “No more street brawls.”

  Johnny lifted his crippled hand. “I certainly was not interested in such drama.”

  “Good. Your extortion of the good folk of this city ends as well.”

  He smiled thinly. “That is an authority you do not possess.”

  “Not legally,” she agreed. “But certainly morally. I am embarrassed that it had to be pointed out to me by others, but that is my problem to resolve.”

  “You can’t be serious.” He wasn’t smiling.

  “I certainly do not wish to undertake this course of action,” she admitted frankly. “But if you do not cease your activities and promptly depart this area, I will send my bodyguards to kill you, and anyone who attempts to stop them. And so that you understand, you will not just be facing the two pit fighters whose measure you have seen today, but also a first-class practitioner of the Arts, and others besides.”

  Johnny scowled at her. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Watch your tone and words, cripple,” Burk snarled.

  Johnny’s guards stiffened at that, but he waved it aside. “Easy, brute, the talking’s not done yet.”

  “You know who I am,” Provine Sael replied evenly. “My vanity led me to think in too-grandiose terms, and to forget part of who I am, but that has now passed. Take your men and go elsewhere; leave these people to rebuild their lives.”

  Johnny stared at her for a long moment. “Yesterday I reached a compromise with your brutes which barely lasted the night. Today you order me to flee.” He shook his head.

  “No, I am not ordering you, I am pleading with you,” Provine Sael said earnestly. “If you do not desist, you will die, and those who would defend you as well. I have seen far too much death this year to ever want to see more. Is your life not worth more than the coins you drag from simple folk? Can you not put the talents you obviously possess to better use?”

  Johnny snorted. “Don’t waste your breath, churchwoman: I’m too far gone to save.” He stared at Burk for a moment, a frown bisecting his forehead. “What does this town mean to you?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing, and everything. I am sworn to the Light, and I would regret to see your life ended. I pray you will not force your own demise.”

  “They say the Emperor rewarded you personally.”

  “I doubt he remembers me. But we both know that neither the Imperial, nor the local, government will care about the circumstances behind the death of a man in your trade.”

  Johnny nodded absently. “Very well. There are other towns.” He turned abruptly and walked back around the building, trailed by his guards.

  Provine Sael watched him go, and then turned down the lane. “Take me back to the Temple.”

  Provine Sael said nothing as we made our way back to the temple. It felt good to be escorting again, to have a real duty again. As we passed through the streets, I saw something new: people were smiling at us. Not openly, but fleetingly, so as not to draw notice. No doubt they had heard of the day’s brawling, and deduced the issue behind the fighting. They had to live here so they did not express it too openly, but it was still more than enough to square my shoulders and put a spring in my step. My aches and bruises from the day’s work faded into the background.

  At the steps to the Temple’s main door Provine Sael stopped and sighed. Turning, she jabbed a finger at us. “Listen closely: for the rest of the time until our group reforms, I want you to focus on experiencing entertainment and good things. Eat in different restaur
ants, and try new foods. There is a band of wandering players a short distance outside the north gate; attend their performances. There is more to life than fighting, training, and duty; make sure you investigate that.”

  “You are not seeking entertainment, Provine,” Burk observed. “How can we do less than you?”

  She dropped her head and nodded; I thought I saw a smile quirking at her lips, but when she lifted her head her face was in its usual lines. “I am a slave to my passions. There are hard times ahead of us, hard living and violence.” She looked us each in the eye. “Obey my orders. Enjoy yourselves as best you can.”

  “Yes, Provine,” we chorused.

  “Now what?” Burk asked when we were a distance from the Temple. “Is Provine Sael displeased?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said cautiously. “Not entirely, anyway. I think.”

  He scratched his scalp, flinching when his finger crossed a swelling bruise. “It is an odd order. Master Horne never acted this way.”

  “He did not, and with good reason, I’m sure,” I nodded. “But I think Provine Sael wants something different from us. Master Horne wanted one thing, and she wants another.”

  “Escorting and fighting are just that,” Burk shrugged. “We’ve had to refine a few things, but not that much; it is simple work, if you know your business.”

  “She had Hatcher teach us to read, and many other things,” I mused. “The world is not nearly as well-organized as the pit and the barracks.”

  “I miss the barracks,” Burk sighed. “All this thinking makes my head hurt.”

  “Mine, too. I am beginning to think that brutes may not be as smart as Men.”

  “You might be right. So, this enjoying business: what is our first move? I enjoyed today pretty well, and I would really enjoy putting the ball of my morning star through Broken Johnny’s face.”

  “She was pretty clear that that is not something she wants done without orders,” I sighed. I thought carefully. “How about a bath house? We could soak away some of the bruises.”

  “The river’s free, and it runs right past our camp,” he objected.

  “True, but we should make an effort in case she asks.”

  “I suppose. It seems like just wasting money, though.”

  “True.”

  The bath house was much better than the river; the ones we had experienced before just provided warm water for a quick wash and a cleaning of your boots, but at this one we soaked in metal troughs while they cleaned and pressed our cloths; there was as much hot water as you wanted, and they brought mugs of ale. It was much more costly than the kind we had encountered before, but we had plenty of money.

  “Ahhhhh,” Burk sighed, sprawling in the trough next to mine. “That’s doing the bruises some good. Some of those thugs knew their way around a cudgel; my ribs won’t be the same for a while.”

  “They were worth the effort,” I agreed, taking a long pull at my mug. “It was a good day’s work.”

  “It was. I wonder if we’ll get to kill Broken Johnny.”

  “I doubt it,” I sighed, glancing at my sword, which was leaning against the side of my trough. “But best to keep an eye out; he might make one more try on his way out of town.”

  Burk drained his mug and belched. “Let him; I feel like a new brute.”

  We got some supper and then found the camp of the wandering players. They performed a ‘farce’, and the crowd seemed to enjoy it.

  “That did not seem proper,” Burk observed as we headed back to camp.

  “Very unseemly,” I agreed. “But we have our orders.”

  For the next few days we did as Provine Sael had instructed; we did not stint on training, but that still left plenty of time. It was quickly clear that Broken Johnny had followed Provine Sael’s instructions too: the shop keepers and pushcart sellers greeting us with big smiles and cheerful greetings, and we got more than a few free meals. We watched the puppet master’s performances twice a day, and enjoyed them thoroughly.

  We noticed thugs idling on the corners who gave us a cold eye as we passed, and I doubted we had permanently rid the good people of Merrywine of their problems. After supper but before attending the wandering player’s performance Burk and I would subdue two or three of these blade-boys and present them to the five-spear Legion Centurion as recruits. As entertainment, we found it to be far better than the farces the wandering players performed.

  We spent five days in this simple routine, and during that time I became confident enough with the use of the javelin to have a case made and attached to my back-baldric that would hold two javelins to the left of my sword.

  I was practicing using my sword with the modified baldric and Burk was lifting a length of roof beam when a familiar laugh rang out.

  “You two don’t have any idea how to relax, do you?” The speaker was a Nisker woman whose bright, merry face looked out at the world from under an unruly mop of red hair held back by a folded scarf of green and brown. She was wearing a green tunic, a brown leather vest that strained to contain her bosom, and tight brown breeches; a decorated belt supported two of the forward-angled-blade knives her people like, and a variety of odd-shaped pouches. She was barely four feet tall; beside a slight point to her ears and her height she, like all Niskers, looked no different from Men.

  “Hatcher!” I sheathed my sword. “I’m glad to see you!”

  She tossed a shilling to the man who was following her, lugging a variety of packages. “Set them by that box, thanks. Whoa!” That last was because I had caught her around the waist and lifted her over my head.

  “What was that for?” she laughed as I set her down.

  “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, but Provine Sael specifically prohibited me from bringing you two along.”

  “Why?” Burk asked.

  “Too much temptation: with a wall of muscle backing me, I would have been too inclined to run a few things I’ve had my eye on for a while.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I caught a boat to Fellhome, running errands for Provine Sael and to do a little shopping,” she waved a hand at the packages.

  “Did you post our letter to Master Horne?” I asked.

  “I did better than that: I handed it to him personally. He tried not to show how impressed he was. He did say for you two to continue upholding the good name of the Ebon Blades, and to remember to do proper work. It was so touching I could barely hold back my tears.” She sat down on a chunk of wood by the firepit. “I hear you two have been a terror.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Word is you two took Broken Johnny’s organization apart man by man, and I saw Johnny himself just as I was looking for a boat coming here. He had some pretty uncharitable things to say about you two, and Provine Sael, to boot. Provine Sael filled in the rest of the details when I checked in with her. Don’t you two know how to entertain yourselves?”

  “We’re learning.”

  “I hope so; there’s no point in being free if you just sit around waiting for orders. Get cleaned up and let’s find some good food, I’ve been on cold rations since Fellhome.”

  “Did Provine Sael say when we’re heading out?”

  “Not precisely, but Torl is due back tomorrow, so don’t make any long-term plans.”

  We were soon heading into town, Hatcher riding on my shoulders as was her custom, as her short stride meant she would otherwise have to travel at a trot to keep up. She had had a cushion made to protect her rear from my armor, and I knew Burk would have a joke about that, but I didn’t care: I was glad to have Hatcher back, and the news that Master Horne had had praise for us filled me with a warm glow.

  “How did you happen to run into Broken Johnny?” I asked when Hatcher paused in her talking to take a breath.

  “Hmmmm? Oh, I know him, from a while back. He made a point to tell me the tale when we crossed paths at the docks; I’m not sure if he was furious or amused. We’re nothing close to friends, but
in my trade I have come to know a lot of criminals. He’s far from the worst sort, but he is not one to cross, either.”

  “Have you seen Hunter?” Burk asked as we passed through the south gate.

  “No, but I expect he’s here in town, laid up with a couple whores. Which reminds me, one of my jobs was to locate a replacement for Akel; he should catch up in a day or two, goes by Pieter. You can’t miss him: he looks like a half-melted candle. He’s a friend of Hunter’s. No more new-hires from now on: Provine Sael is only going to take on people who are vouched for by members of the group.”

  “Didn’t you know anyone?” I was a little uneasy by this news, as I was still unsure of how to take Hunter.

  Hatcher snickered. “Not too many that I would trust with the Sagrit lusting for our sweetbreads, and of those I would trust, Provine Sael couldn’t afford any. Don’t worry about Pieter: for all his various faults, Hunter is far smarter and competent than he lets on. He puts a lot of effort into appearing to be a drunken wastrel, and a number of people are dead because they underestimated him, Provine Sael’s unlamented uncle being the most recent. You two and Torl don’t mind everyone knowing how good you are, but Hunter is sneaky. Turn left ahead; I cannot believe you two were here all this time and never ate at the only Nisker eatery north of Fellhome.”

  “We saw some puppet shows,” Burk noted, a bit defensively. “They were quite good.”

  “When this job is done I’ll show you boys how to spend your spare time and money. It will be an education.” She drummed on the top of my head. “As it is, freeing you two has been a bit pointless to date; the Legions would love to have you two. See that light on the right? Head there.”

  Chabney Torl was sitting by the firepit cooking a piece of meat on a stick over the coals when Burk and I rolled out of our bedrolls at dawn, a slender, weathered, and tough-looking Man with grey eyes and dark blond hair pulled back into a queue. He wore fighting leathers and was armed with a longbow and broadsword; I had never seen him use the latter, but he was deadly with the bow. He nodded to us as if we had seen him last night.