The Witch's City

by M. Gregg Roe

  Draymund felt alive with energy as he delivered a pinpoint thrust to the dragon’s spine, the iron-hard scales offering little resistance to the DragonSword’s power. The rear legs and tail simply collapsed as he yanked his sword out and stepped back. The dragon then did something that he had seen before, though not often. It stretched its neck out and lowered its head to the ground, even closing its eyes. It was an acknowledgment of defeat. Wary of possible trickery, Draymund positioned himself carefully before removing the dragon’s head with a single downward swing. He then saluted the dragon with his sword.

  Now the rain was an asset as it slowly washed the pungent, dark red blood off of him. He tossed his sword and shield aside. Using two steel jars taken from his backpack, he collected some of the blood that was still oozing from the dragon’s neck. Again making use of the DragonSword, he filled additional containers with claws, scales, and pieces of the dragon’s heart, liver, and kidney. One scale would go to his personal collection, but the rest would be sold off to alchemists when he returned home. The stomach, disturbingly, held the partially-digested remains of a small child. But it was also proof that he had killed the correct dragon. Some of the teeth had been damaged by the dragon’s attempt to bite him, so he decided not to take the head home with him as a trophy. But he would still take it back to Briarwood. It was proof of a completed job, and the villagers might want it to display. They would probably want the dragon’s body for food as well. Draymund, however, didn’t really care for the taste.

  Draymund saluted his foe again before picking up the head. Some dragons clearly deserved death, killing for pleasure and deliberately causing destruction. This one had likely simply been hungry. But despite its obvious intelligence, it had made a mistake. Had it limited itself to the village livestock, he would have refused the commission.

  As he headed back to the village, Draymund found himself thinking of his son. Saxloc had returned from his adventure earlier than Audrey. That was surprising, but also fortunate, allowing more time to finish the cottage and its surrounding landscaping. He had wanted to be present when Audrey first spied the cottage they had built for her, but it couldn’t be helped. Dragon-slaying commissions were rare and lives were at stake.

  Saxloc had spoken excitedly about how he and Audrey had once again repaired their relationship, but Draymund doubted that it would last. He had never really understood how the two of them had ended up together after how Saxloc had treated her when she came to live with them. In Draymund’s opinion, Audrey was better off with the older man that she had dated on and off, and Saxloc should simply find someone else.

  It would be one more night staying in Briarwood, and then another three day trip home. Draymund often received offers of female companionship in the places he stayed, especially once his task was complete. That was hardly surprising. After all, he was not only a dragon-slayer but quite handsome and still relatively young for a half-elf. Draymund would never dream of cheating on his wife in the Witch’s City, but he never hesitated when he was on a job. His blood was always up after slaying a dragon, and he considered it his due. Almera had never asked about it, although she almost certainly knew. In exchange, he had never made the slightest effort to find out what she did while he was away.

  Briarwood was a lovely village—clean, organized, and more welcoming than most. So welcoming, in fact, that the small house they had provided him had come complete with a recent widow who had made him welcome in a variety of delightful ways. He was tempted to stay an extra day or two, but tonight would have to suffice. He needed to get back home to defend his son from the only thing he truly feared: his scheming wife.

  5

  ‡ Meddling ‡

  The distinctive aroma of his mother’s scrambled eggs filled the air as Saxloc walked up the wide hallway toward the kitchen. It was more evidence of something that he had long suspected, mainly that the mansion’s magical systems had capabilities beyond what he had access to. It wasn’t the first time that he had come down later than usual to find that breakfast just happened to be nearly ready. It probably meant that his mother could tell where he was in the mansion, but he wasn’t really concerned.

  “Good morning, Mother!” he called out as he entered the front portion of the kitchen. The sight of only two place settings at the kitchen table was somewhat depressing. His father was away, and Audrey now lived in a separate place with her own kitchen. Like his mother, Saxloc wore a dark green robe with tan accents, a gift from Audrey that she had sewn herself. It simply reinforced that Audrey wasn’t eating with them.

  “Good morning, Saxloc,” replied Almera, not even glancing at him. “Go ahead and sit down. The food is almost ready.”

  Saxloc seated himself in his usual chair, and his mother soon brought over two plates of food. They ate in silence, and he could see that his mother was preoccupied. Part of that had to be that his father still hadn’t returned from his dragon-slaying trip. No matter what she claimed, he could tell that it caused her stress. Truthfully, it worried him as well. He and his friends had fought dragons before, so he knew just how dangerous they were.

  When the two of them had finished eating, his mother abruptly asked, “Do you love Audrey?”

  The unexpected question startled him. “Of course I do! Isn’t it obvious?”

  She smiled gently at him. “No, Saxloc. It is not obvious and that is the problem. I have no doubt that you like Audrey and lust after her body, but that is not love.”

  “But …”

  “How do you think I feel about dragons?” she asked, again surprising him.

  Saxloc suddenly had a bad feeling what the answer was going to be, and it was unsettling. “You don’t like them?” he asked hesitantly. Much of the mansion, including his parents’ bedroom, was decorated with a dragon motif. The design of the mansion itself mimicked a dragon with spread wings.

  “No,” she replied. “Dragons frighten me. It terrifies me that your father slays them for a living. I worry that one day he will finally meet his match and not return to us. I want him to retire, but I fear you will then take his place. And I don’t want that.”

  Saxloc could hardly believe was he was hearing. “You don’t want me to succeed him?”

  “No. I don’t. The point that I am trying to make is that I tolerate all this business with dragons because I love your father, and that is part of who he is. I know a great deal about dragons, not because they interest me, but because they interest him.”

  “I … I didn’t know any of this.” Hearing his mother say such things was shocking.

  Almera gave him a sympathetic look. “I know, Saxloc. But you need to know because it relates to your own situation. I don’t expect you to learn to sew, but you need to stop looking bored when Audrey mentions it. Or when she mentions her family and friends in Farmerton. You expect her to be interested in everything you are, but you won’t reciprocate. And how much do you even know about her?”

  “I know a great deal about her!” he protested. “I’ve been to Farmerton, and we talk all the time.”

  Almera narrowed her eyes. “What is the name of Audrey’s sister?”

  It was obviously a trick question. “Audrey is an only child,” he declared.

  His mother began to look smug and he realized that he was wrong. Audrey had once told him about her long-dead sister, and she had been upset. Very upset. How could I have forgotten that? he wondered. “She died young. I can’t remember her name.”

  Almera nodded and smiled gently. “Her name was Aldruth. I know a great deal about Audrey because of all the time we spent cooking and gardening together, and because I care about her.”

  Saxloc was feeling very guilty. He realized that he knew only vague details about Audrey’s family and upbringing. He knew that she had twin cousins, but he didn’t know their names or if they were her only cousins. Violet was Audrey’s best friend, but he couldn’t remember her husband’s name. He had a bad feeling that Erwin—his rival for Audrey’s affections—knew fa
r more about Audrey than he did despite never having set foot in Farmerton.

  “Saxloc, my son,” she said with a tender look. “You lack some basic social skills, but that’s partly the fault of the environment in which you were raised. You have no siblings and all of your friends share common interests with you. And it’s not just you. For all her talk and bluster, I believe that Siljan has difficulty when it comes to romance. Gabriel says that he is going to wait before seeking romance, but I suspect that it really has more to do with being terrified at the thought. According to Medea, Gabriel’s father had similar issues. And let’s not even talk about how dysfunctional Marryn has become.”

  Saxloc sat and thought about what his mother had said before replying. “I think you’re right. Maybe it’s partly because we grew up in odd situations with adventurer parents. I think that Hankin may be the best-adjusted of us. He works for a large company and interacts with a variety of people there.”

  She nodded solemnly. “I think you are correct.”

  “So what should I do? Should I apologize to Audrey? Start asking her questions about her family?”

  “No. I don’t recommend that. She will notice an abrupt change. I would start by trying not to look bored every time she mentions something that doesn’t interest you. You need to make changes to your behavior, but it’s not going to be easy.”

  “Do I need to learn more about sewing? Read some books?”

  “No. Simply listen to her when she talks about it. Pay attention. Learn about sewing from her. Maybe ask her to repair an item of your clothing. That shows an interest and will flatter her.”

  “All right.” He did have a shirt with a torn seam that he had been planning to cut up into rags for polishing his weapons and armor.

  Almera got up and began to stack the dirty plates. Saxloc stood and picked up the cups. He followed her to the washbasin and placed them inside. “Thank you for the advice, Mother. I will work on it.”

  She smiled and gave him a gentle hug. “Give Audrey some time alone for the moment. She wanted to be independent, but she needs time to adjust to her new situation.”

  “I will.”

  Saxloc was halfway to the door when something occurred to him. He turned and asked, “I should have stayed with Audrey in Farmerton, shouldn’t I?”

  His mother’s face lit up with a beautiful smile. “Yes! You would have been bored, but you should have done it—”

  “For her,” he concluded, and his mother nodded. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Saxloc headed back to his room to get cleaned up and dress. He would do whatever was necessary to win Audrey and keep her because he loved her. It was that simple.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Almera hummed to herself as she washed the dirty dishes and cookware from breakfast. It was a tune her mother had sung to her when she was a child. That was one of the few happy memories Almera still had of her mother, who had died when she was only six. What she remembered most was the grief and suffering her mother’s passing had inflicted on her father and on herself.

  She was pleased by her son’s realization of his mistake in not staying with Audrey when she decided to spend time with Violet in Farmerton. She still wasn’t convinced that he would end up with Audrey, but she was going to do what she could to assist him. Saxloc had gone on several dates with another young woman named Rosalind, but it hadn’t been serious—for him at least. Rosalind, on the other hand, seemed intent on snaring him. She had brushed off his attempt to break things off and was now sending him love letters—two so far, beautifully written as long poems. (Almera had gone into her son’s suite to read them while he was out.) Saxloc’s plan was to simply ignore and avoid her, sadly reminiscent of the way he had treated Audrey when she first arrived in the Witch’s City. Almera intended to deal with the matter herself since her son was clearly incapable.

  After finishing the dishes and wiping the table, Almera went upstairs. She took her time cleaning up and grooming herself, brushing her long, light brown hair until it gleamed. She donned one of her nicer dresses—dark blue with gold accents. She thought it made her look both beautiful and elegant, but her real goal was to look intimidating. She spent some time applying makeup to increase the effect.

  It took her twenty minutes to walk to the shop where Rosalind worked. Sharp Edges was a one-story building, but with very high ceilings—a necessity for a shop that sold items such as spears and pole-arms. Her husband and son both frequently browsed there. She could even remember Saxloc mentioning the short half-elf that always went out of her way to wait on him. That, of course, had been Rosalind.

  Rosalind was somewhat of a puzzle to Almera. She was several years older than her son, but so short and skinny that she appeared younger. Almera assumed that Rosalind’s refusal to give up on Saxloc was due to their wealth. That had always concerned her. She wanted Saxloc to find someone who loved him for who he was, not because his family was rich. Audrey certainly satisfied that criterion, stubbornly refusing to accept money from anyone unless she thought she had earned it.

  Almera strode into the shop as if she owned it. In fact, Draymund had once looked into buying it, and it was easily within their means. They were the wealthiest family in the Witch’s City by far. Her dress was probably worth more than the employees there earned in a year. Off to her left was Rosalind, standing behind a wide table that displayed a dizzying variety of knives and speaking with a foppish-looking young man who was also a clerk there. Rosalind was clad in a cheap beige dress—the same one she always seemed to wear. As Almera marched toward her, Rosalind’s large blue eyes widened in surprise. She wore her dark brown hair short, but the way it hung down over her forehead made her look even more childlike.

  “I need to speak with you, Rosalind,” Almera stated as she stared intently. “Now.”

  The other clerk seemed about to say something, so she simply glared at him. He hesitated briefly and then walked away. Rosalind took a step backward as Almera’s attention returned to her. She gulped and said, “I’ll ask if I can take my break early. Excuse me.” Even her voice sounded meek.

  Almera watched as Rosalind hurriedly made her way to the back corner where the owner’s office was located. She looked worried when she returned wearing a gray cloak that had rips that had been poorly repaired—more evidence of how poor she was.

  “Okay,” said Rosalind in a barely audible voice.

  Almera walked out of the shop with Rosalind following. They weren’t far from the North Lake, and she promptly headed in that direction. She knew a spot there that was relatively private. She was going to speak with Rosalind, and then give her either a tongue-lashing or a bribe, whichever seemed more likely to work. She noted two Novox insurance collectors walking toward them, easily recognizable by their attire and the patches near their left shoulders.

  “We are Novox employees and this is a legal robbery,” announced the man on the left, thin and with straggly brown hair. “Do either of you have insurance?”

  Almera was annoyed that they didn’t recognize her, but she knew that Novox had recently hired a new batch of employees. She had just opened her mouth to reply when Rosalind beat her to it, saying, “Here,” as she held out a small handful of copper pieces.

  “What are you doing?” demanded Almera as she stared at the girl in disbelief.

  “I don’t have insurance,” she explained with an earnest expression. “I can’t afford it.”

  That made absolutely no sense to Almera. Sharp Edges was clearly prosperous. They should be paying for their employee’s personal insurance.

  “Don’t interfere,” warned the other man as he fingered the hilt of his sheathed knife. He was stocky and muscular, clearly the one tasked with intimidating people.

  Almera was feeling angry as she drew herself up and glared at the two men, both of whom were substantially taller than she was. “You are not robbing this woman,” she told them using her most menacing voice. “She is under my protection.” Confusion showe
d on Rosalind’s face as she continued to hold out her hand.

  “And just who are you?” asked the intimidator as he drew his long knife.

  Almera pointed her right arm at him and gathered her will. “Sleep!” she commanded as she channeled a portion of her magical energy and envisioned the intended result. The man promptly dropped his knife and collapsed, ending up on his left side with his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. She saw that the other man had his hand on his knife hilt, but she thought that he looked tentative. Spectators were gathering, including two members of the Witch’s City Guard that Almera recognized and waved at.

  “I will see that this woman’s insurance is paid for,” she stated. “I am Almera av Theora. My husband and I own a substantial portion of the company that employs you. I know that you were doing your job, but I did not care for your partner’s demeanor. I may well have a word with Celebern about that. May we be on our way now?”

  She could see that her casual use of the name of the man that ran Novox frightened him. “Yes … my lady. Sorry.” He bowed his head before going to see to his partner.

  Almera nodded to the guards and then turned to Rosalind, noting her bewildered expression. “Rosalind! Put your money away and come with me.”

  Rosalind quickly obeyed, looking fearful again. The two of them soon arrived at the spot that Almera had in mind. Two teenage girls were there talking and giggling, but fled as soon as she began to glare at them. The two of them sat down on the wooden bench they had just vacated.

  “Is this about Saxloc?” asked Rosalind. “I can explain.”

  “That can wait,” Almera told her. “Tell me about your job and yourself.” There was something very wrong, and she intended to find out what it was.

  They spoke for nearly an hour about a number of things. Afterward, Almera sent the girl back to work and then returned home. She found Saxloc in the practice area beneath the mansion performing some type of sword drill.