Soldiers of Winter

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Soldiers of Winter Page 3

by Stephen L. Nowland


  “Come on, let's get out of here,” Pacian grumbled to Aiden who didn't object to leaving the inn to the continued howls of derision from most of the people within. The bite of the cold outside air was especially strong now that their tunics were wet, so after splashing on some water from a trough outside the inn to wash off the smell of ale, they wrung the material out as best as they could and started heading back to the Wainwright house to warm up by the fire.

  Pacian hated the smell coming from his own clothing, as it reminded him of his father at his worst. He wasn't one to partake of strong drink and didn't really see the appeal of it, except as a way to shirk the law of the land which said someone of his age shouldn't be drinking at all. He'd been drunk exactly once in his life and it wasn't something he was keen to repeat, even if he did enjoy thumbing his nose at authority.

  “Just what I needed,” Aiden muttered on the walk back. “These days it's not enough that I'm shunned from the community, they have to bring in outsiders to pile humiliation on me as well.”

  “I'm sure it wasn't personal,” Pacian replied reassuringly, doing a fine job of hiding his anger at the treatment. “Some people are a little bit funny about being stared at. Why were you doing that, anyway?”

  “Did you see that pendant the one called Creese had around his neck?” Aiden asked.

  “Uh, can't say I noticed that actually, was it small?” Pacian answered with a measure of confusion. Aiden responded by reaching inside the top of his tunic to pull out a small piece of glass attached to a piece of string hanging around his neck. The glass was elongated to suggest it used to be pointier and sharper, but had the rough parts smoothed down so the wearer wouldn't stab themselves by accident.

  “It looked a lot like this,” Aiden explained, showing it to his friend.

  “That's a piece from the sphere you found in that cave, isn't it,” Pacian stated, knowing full well it was.

  “After he pulled this out of my hand, my father turned it into a pendant to keep with me, so I wouldn't forget to stay away from that forest in the future. He made it to look like the one's he made for my brothers a few years before they left home. It wasn't very bright inside the inn, but I could swear Creese was wearing one of those pendants. I'd know it anywhere.”

  “Seriously?” Pacian asked rhetorically. “How could he have gotten it? Maybe the survivors took it and pawned it off in town, and it's made its way into Creese's grubby hands.”

  “He and that other one, Beddoe, they're caravan guards too so maybe they knew my brothers, or even worked together,” Aiden suggested. They stopped just before reaching his house and Aiden looked around at the scenic little town, with its log cabins, snowy streets with forest to the east and mountains visible to the south.

  “I hate this place,” he muttered, barely loud enough to hear, but it resonated for Pacian who had felt the same way for most of his time in Coldstream. They both had reason to despise this little town, and he couldn't wait to get out of here and see the world, yet Aiden seemed especially down today. The incident with the caravan guards and half the people there laughing at his misfortune drove home how out of place he was in this rustic setting. Aiden continued on inside alone, as Pacian stood in the street.

  He and Aiden had interests that could hardly be more different, but they were friends because neither of them really got along well with anyone else in town. Both felt like outcasts from the wider community — Pacian for his checkered past and Aiden for his book smarts, yet together, they managed to keep themselves from going crazy. And Pacian wasn't about to let some out of town jackass humiliate the only friend he really had.

  There was something about Creese and his shady friend that rubbed Pacian the wrong way. He'd dealt with that type of ruffian before when he was younger, and a flash of pain went through Pacian's mind as he remembered a thug holding a knife to his mother's throat while Pacian's father lay bloodied on the floor. Yes, people like that had to pay, and with the town guards down to only a few men, nobody else was going to do it.

  Though he wasn't yet sure how he was going to accomplish it, Pacian was going to steal back that pendant and make Creese pay for his humiliation.

  3

  Subtlety

  True to his earlier promise, Aiden went to help his father out in the workshop, leaving Pacian to his own devices for the rest of the day. This was actually an ideal arrangement, because Aiden was a bit of a stick in the mud when it came to doing anything society might consider underhanded. Time and again Pacian had convinced his friend to come along and keep watch while Pace ransacked an empty house, or tried to open someone's locked chest with only a thin piece of metal and a fork, and each time they'd narrowly escaped because Aiden had a flash of conscience that had nearly cost them their freedom.

  Heading back home, Pacian was relieved to see his father sober and busy in the front of the bakery, where he was serving locals between kneading more dough for another batch of bread. Unwilling to risk a confrontation, Pacian crept around the side of the cabin and went in through the window to his room. He changed his tunic and put on his dark winter cloak to ward off the increasing chill in the air, and on his way out took half a loaf of bread from the kitchen.

  Pacian was an expert at appearing busy. Years of practice allowed him to fool just about anyone in town, so when he went back to the main street to keep an eye on Creese and Beddoe, Pacian always seemed like he was working on something. He even actually helped some of the merchants unload their wares, and helped some locals load up wood onto one of the carts. At least, that's how it looked to passers-by — Pacian only appeared to be helping, moving in half-way along a length of lumber held by two others while putting in no effort whatsoever.

  Once that was done and the street cleared of most people, Pacian sauntered around the area, always with an eye on the inn. Creese and Beddoe took over watching Mister Holbrook's wagon and spent the rest of the afternoon standing around, looking bored. Pacian shared the sentiment, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. His sharp eyes picked up a glint of glass around Creese's neck, and knew Aiden was right about the pendant.

  By the time the sun was starting to set, the wagons were ready to depart the next morning, laden with all of the goods the merchants had bought during their time in Coldstream. A light dusting of snow began to fall and the streets gradually cleared completely, except for Creese and Beddoe who looked miserable standing watch over the supplies.

  “What are you up to?” came Millie's voice right next to Pacian's ear. He whirled around to see his ex-girlfriend standing right next to him, hands on hips and a suspicious look in her eyes.

  “I'm just... being lazy,” Pacian blurted, wondering how she could have crept up on him without being heard. She snorted in suppressed laughter at his statement of innocence.

  “When aren't you. You've been sitting here all afternoon. Don't think I didn't notice! You're sort of hard to miss all covered up in that dark cloak. Who are you stalking this time? Is it Lyn? I'm not letting you take advantage of that naive girl.”

  “No, it's nothing like that,” Pacian said in a hushed voice, trying to avoid making a scene. “Look, I've got a little job in mind and I'm just keeping an eye on things in the meantime.”

  “Is this anything to do with that incident at the Bear earlier?” Millie asked curiously.

  “Sort of,” Pacian conceded as an idea occurred to him. “Say, how would you like to help me out a bit?”

  “Knowing the sort of things you get up to? Not bloody likely,” Millie snorted.

  “Just hear me out,” Pacian insisted as she turned to leave. “It's not for me, it's for Aiden. You know you owe him one, right?” This made her pause and turn to face him with arms crossed. He took careful note of the crude club stuffed into her belt.

  “Excuse me?” she asked pointedly.

  “Come on, admit it, you slept with him to get back at me after we broke up. It's okay,” Pacian added quickly, “I deserved it, but he didn't. Shame on you, Millie.”r />
  “I'm sorry, were you asking for me to do you a favor a moment ago?” she reminded him.

  “Not for me, for him,” Pacian pleaded. Millie sighed and gave him a withering look, which Pacian took as a sign she was on board.

  “Okay, you see those two idiots guarding the wagons all the way over there? The short one has something that belongs to Aiden, a pendant that's been in his family for generations.” Pacian was embellishing how near and dear it was to the Wainwright family, but Millie wouldn't know any different.

  “So, you want to steal it back?”

  “As soon as they fall asleep,” Pacian confirmed. “They've been on duty all afternoon so others will take over guarding the wagons tonight. What I need you to do is find out what room they're staying in. They sort of know me already and it might raise suspicions if I go asking around at the inn. That's all I need from you. Well, I suppose I could use a second pair of eyes to keep watch while I snatch it. But that's it, I swear.”

  Millie continued to glare at him as she pondered his request, but eventually she started walking towards the inn. Pacian smiled to himself, knowing full well she had a soft spot for Aiden and a guilty conscience Pacian could exploit. He hunkered down behind a tree and watched as Millie approached Creese and Beddoe near the wagons.

  Although he was too far away to make out any words, Pacian could see by the light of the street lantern hanging near them that Millie had caught the attention of the guards, who seemed quite receptive to her presence. Pacian's smiled vanished as he considered the possibility that she might be in danger, but Millie seemed to handle their attention without a problem.

  Shortly after they started talking, Creese — who was clearly the smarter of the two — turned to Beddoe in confusion and in turn, the big man went to the door of the inn and upon opening it, stuck his head around the corner and called to someone inside.

  “What room are we in tonight?” Beddoe asked. Pacian couldn't hear the reply, but Beddoe didn't seem to like the response. “What do you mean we're in the bloody barn?” Another unheard answer was spoken, which didn't calm things down. “That wasn't my idea, Creese was the one that threw the ale at those two lads. We've been on our feet all day, you can't just send us out to the barn for — okay fine, no problem boss,” he finished in a defeated tone.

  “You wot?” Creese could be heard yelling at his companion while Pacian stifled the urge to laugh. “Kicked out of the inn for causing a public disruption? In a pig's eye!” Beddoe mumbled something unintelligible at this distance which set Creese off on a rant Pacian could barely follow. Millie watched for a moment then excused herself with the plaintive cries of Creese begging her to reconsider following her as she headed down the road.

  By the time she'd circled around to join Pacian behind the tree in the evening darkness, the caravan guards had been replaced by the night shift, leaving Creese and Beddoe to slump off into the inn for an evening meal.

  “Nicely done,” Pacian purred as she crouched next to him.

  “That was fun,” Millie confided with a huge smile on her face.

  “You didn't make them any promises, did you?” Pacian asked cautiously.

  “I hinted I might be looking for a bit of company tonight and the poor bastards were almost falling over themselves to invite me to their room. I hope they like hay, because their clothes are going to be full of it by morning. Is that a problem for you?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Pacian assured her. “Actually, it couldn't have worked out better. Saves me sneaking through the inn and bumping into someone else by accident. Are you up for keeping lookout while I do my thing?”

  “Okay, I'm game,” she replied with poorly concealed enthusiasm.

  “Alright, let's get a bite to eat and watch for them to head off to the barn,” Pacian suggested. “Come on, I'm buying.” With that, they crossed the road and entered the welcoming warmth of the inn's common room, where the evening service was in full swing. The aroma of roasting meat wafted through the air making Pacian realize he hadn't really eaten much that day.

  He kept his dark hood up to obscure his features, but Pacian needn't have worried about being spotted. The two guards could barely be seen in the busy common room, so Pacian paid the innkeeper his last pair of copper jacks — leaving him with nothing — and arranged for a bowl of stew to be brought to a table on the other side of the room from the two guards. Millie had come along expecting a proper meal and wasn't impressed by the single bowl they had to share.

  “Oh Pacian,” she swooned sarcastically, “your generosity is making my head spin.”

  “Alright, go easy,” he grumbled as they sat amongst the mix of merchants and locals, talking amongst themselves while eating more elaborate meals. “Things have been a bit lean for me lately.”

  “If the line of people queuing up for bread lately is any indication, the bakery is doing just fine,” Millie responded as she sipped from a spoon.

  “And where do you think that money is going?” Pacian asked, briefly enjoying the look of understanding cross Millie's features.

  “I'm sorry,” she muttered. “I bet all the wine and spirits he goes through adds up.”

  “Certainly does,” Pacian agreed, somewhat distracted as he kept an eye on Creese through the crowded room. Although he couldn't see them all that well, Pacian would be able to spot the towering Beddoe when the two men finally decided to leave the inn.

  “You know, if you straightened up your life, I might have second thoughts about us,” Millie suggested after they'd eaten half of the bowl's contents. This had the effect of grabbing Pacian's complete attention.

  “Hey, I do honest work every day,” he protested. “Even if it's only a couple of hours.”

  “And the rest of it?” she shrewdly asked.

  “Well, things get a little more... complicated,” he hedged, knowing full well what she was referring to. “If it's any consolation, I haven't stolen anything in about a week,” he added, lying about the apples he took that morning. They didn't really count as they were just hanging from a tree where anyone could steal them, which, in Pacian's mind, was certainly nothing at all like stealing someone's money or valuables.

  “Sure it does,” Millie scoffed.

  “Well, what are you planning to do with yourself?” Pacian responded. “Sticking with cleaning and fruit picking, or are you going to marry some lumberjack and start a family? Coldstream has both options.”

  “Actually, my family's moving south before the end of the week,” Millie said in a quiet voice, which caught Pacian by surprise.

  “You're leaving?” he repeated, spoon held in mid-air.

  “Dad's looking for better opportunities elsewhere,” she explained, her eyes avoiding his. “Ever since he hurt his back he hasn't been able to chop down trees without being in pain, so he's wants a job where he can sit down for a living.”

  “Well, that's the dream, isn't it?” Pacian wistfully agreed. “Are you okay with that?”

  “I'm trying to think of a reason to stay,” Millie answered, glancing briefly at him for some reason. “Can you think of a reason?”

  “It's not much of a town,” Pacian answered with a shrug, continuing to eat the stew. “If you're not a lumberjack, there's probably not a lot here for you.” Millie didn't respond to that, leaving them in an awkward silence until Pacian noticed Creese and Beddoe stand and head for the door.

  “There they go,” he said, tilting his head in their direction. “I reckon we've got around half an hour before those two lugs fall asleep.”

  “Oh, so we have more time to sit here then, wonderful,” Millie answered blandly. Pacian tried to lift her spirits by talking about minor little things around town, but it eventually occurred to him that her discomfort probably had something to do with him.

  They'd had a storied past couple of years filled with sudden passion followed by bitter regrets. Every time they got too close, part of him started to panic and he couldn't figure out why. In the end, Pacian figured
he was just the sort of bloke who wasn't made for one woman, which made it a lot easier on his conscience when he dated one after another of the local girls, looking for something he could never quite put his finger on. Maybe he was just picky.

  Once they'd finished the bowl of stew, Pacian's mind turned to the task at hand. He led Millie out through the front door into the wintry conditions outside, noting that the wind had picked up, blustering through the streets with considerable force. A few drops of rain splashed on Pacian's cloak, suggesting the weather was about to take a turn for the worse.

  “Let's get this over with,” Pacian grumbled, checking under his cloak to make sure his knife was tucked into his belt. They walked down the street until they were out of the street lantern's light, then turned into the darkness between two buildings, heading for the large barn behind the inn via an indirect route to avoid being seen.

  Although unusual, it wasn't unheard of for the rustic old building to be used for sleeping if people in desperate need of cheap accommodation show up on the Bear's doorstep, or if it was simply booked solid and there was nowhere else to go. The barn had other uses of course, which brought a sly grin to Pacian's face when he thought of other times he'd been here at night.

  “This reminds me of the time when we—” Pacian whispered before being cut off.

  “Don't even talk about it, Pace,” Millie muttered, though Pacian thought he could see the faint hint of a smile on her face at the shared memory. They crept forward until they reached the large double door and paused, listening for the sounds of anyone inside. The howling wind was a mixed blessing, covering any noise Pacian and Millie might make, but it also made it hard to hear if anyone else was around.

  “Wait here,” Pacian whispered into her ear, adding, “if you see or hear anyone else approaching, knock twice on the door.”

  “You might not hear it in this wind,” Millie warned.

  “Then knock loudly,” Pacian whispered back. “I'll be as quick as I can.” With his hood pulled up, he moved to the doors and check to see if they had been locked or barred from the inside. They hadn't, and in fact had not even been properly closed, making it easy for Pacian to slowly open one door wide enough to slip inside.

 

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