“Hist!” someone cried. “Sorceress! Here, take these!”
Lucy turned at the sound of the voice and saw a young woman crouched behind the spilled cart. The woman held out her hands as if making an offering. On her open palms were three large reddish potatoes. For a moment Lucy stared at them, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do with those, then the memory of her spell and an idea ignited in her thoughts at the same time. It was crazy, but it was worth a try. She snatched the potatoes like a gift from the gods.
Raising the tubers above her head, she faced the brigands and began to chant the incantations to Ulin’s spell in a loud and firm voice. With a prayer that she could force the magic to work again, she focused on the power she could feel around her and drew it carefully into her incantation. She almost completed the spell when something soft as gossamer tickled the back of her neck. Although she tried to ignore the sensation and concentrate on her spell, she felt the magic falter and fade. Several unladylike words passed through her mind, and she had to swallow hard to hide her frustrated disappointment.
“Great bullocks, Grethor!” one of the thugs shouted. “That’s the sorceress who killed those dozen draconians.”
Lucy molded her expression into a mask of stern anger. She lowered her arms, and held a potato ready to throw at the big man holding Challie. He stood stared at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
“Put her down this instant or die,” Lucy demanded.
Dazedly, he opened his hand and dropped the dwarf to the ground where she groaned and lay still.
Lucy wanted to run to Challie, but she dared not take her eyes off the brigand. “Now, tell your men, all of them, to put the goods down and lie on the ground, or I will burn you all.”
Such was the power of Lucy’s reputation—thanks to the storytellers in Flotsam—that the three men took one look at her face and the potatoes in her hand and obeyed instantly. All of them dropped to the ground and spread their arms and legs. One of them whimpered.
Help suddenly appeared from all directions. Booth owners, vendors, and customers crawled out of their hiding places or came hurrying back, and in short order they had all four men trussed and taken away under guard. The young woman under the vegetable cart gave Lucy some water and strips of fabric for her face and helped her revive Challie. The battered dwarf cursed intermittently then laughed at Lucy’s potato trick.
“Did the spell work this time?” she whispered to Lucy when they were alone.
Lucy gave her head a small shake. She kept the potatoes tucked in the crook of one arm. “I don’t think so. They’re not hot like the last ones, but I don’t think I’ll try them out here. I’d hate to ruin my reputation.”
Challie tried to smile through her split lip and started bleeding again. “I wish you had fried that beast,” she groaned.
Lucy put an arm around her companion as much for her own support as Challie’s. The dwarf was not seriously hurt, but she suffered several severe bruises on her legs and face, abrasions on her forehead, and a sprained ankle. All Lucy wanted to do now was go back to the Jetties and lie down.
“Young woman, you are a marvel,” she heard someone say close beside her.
Lucy glanced up with one good eye and looked into the kind, intelligent gaze of Councilwoman Saorsha, the older woman Pease thought was a retired member of the covert Legion of Steel. Looking into Saorsha’s aged face, Lucy could well believe the kender was right. This close Lucy noticed details she had not paid attention to before. Saorsha’s skin was wrinkled and spotted, but it was the toughened, weather-beaten patina caused by years of living in wind and rain and burning sun. Her eyes were bright, blue, and piercing, and her hair had been cut short into a fluffy cap of waving white. When she offered a hand to Lucy to help her stand, her grip was firm and strong. Her hands bore the old callouses of a sword-fighter.
Lucy allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Her head felt as if some evil dwarf stonecutter was trying to split her skull with a dull wedge. Slowly, so she wouldn’t lose her breakfast in front of the councilwoman, she bent over and helped Challie stand.
All at once applause and cheering burst out around them. Startled, Lucy saw dozens of people gathered, clapping and smiling and calling her “Sorceress.” She blinked and her free hand flew to her battered face.
“You’d think they’d never seen a mage before,” she muttered. A little attention was nice, but this was getting embarrassing.
“Actually we haven’t seen one in a long time,” Saorsha told her. “Malys killed all the ones she could find, and once the magic started to fail, those few that were out here left to find answers elsewhere.” She lifted a hand and indicated the people around them. “You have brought them a gleam of hope.”
Lucy watched the crowd slowly disperse. “Hope for what? Another good story?”
“Even stories can lighten fear. But enough, you’ve had quite a blow to the head. You need rest and a soothing drink. Come with me. I have my pony trap close by, and it would be a pleasure to take you back to the Jetties.”
Considering the long walk back to the inn with Challie’s sprained ankle, Lucy accepted. Between them, they supported Challie for the short walk through the market to Saorsha’s pony and cart. The cart was barely large enough for three, and the little pony hardly looked big enough to pull one old woman let alone Lucy and Challie. But as soon as they all squeezed on and Saorsha took the reins in her firm grip, the pony started forward without hesitation.
Challie sagged against Lucy and closed her eyes. Lucy wanted to lean against something, too. Now that the attack was over, the reaction and shock were settling over her in a cloak of lethargy. Unfortunately, the narrow seat had no sides or back, and she did not think it would be wise to lean against the driver, so she sat upright and tried not to concentrate on her pain.
“I was wondering,” she asked, “why does this town have no guard or law enforcement? Do you have any laws here?”
The councilwoman gave a rueful shrug. “Of course, we do. Mayor Efrim has been trying for years to clean up this town. The problem is we have very little authority. Every time we organize a guard, try to repair the city walls, build towers, or do anything that could be construed as organized resistance, either our Dragon Overlord sweeps in and incinerates the town or she sends a unit of her Dark Knights to put us in our place. That’s why the Vigilance Committee and the Force are strictly volunteer and why we keep them covert.” She sighed. “And unfortunately, that’s why brutes like those feel free to come into town to loot and assault innocent folk.”
“So why do you stay?” Lucy asked. She could not see Saorsha out of her right eye, so she turned her head to look at her with the left.
The old woman did not answer at first. She clucked to her pony, her blue eyes as hard as gemstones. “My husband is here, and my daughter. Up yonder.” She pointed toward the edge of town.
If Lucy squinted hard enough she could just make out a far hill dotted with mounds and stony cairns.
“Aye,” Saorsha said softly. “Malys killed my husband ten years ago. My girl died of a fever that swept through here. I could leave, I suppose, but I have nowhere else to go.”
Lucy’s lips curved upward in understanding. “And nowhere else where people need you.”
The councilwoman tipped her chin up to acknowledge the truth of Lucy’s statement. “Even old women like to feel they can be useful.”
The pony stopped by the stone front of the Jetties, and Pease raced out to help, effectively ending the conversation. Saorsha walked with Lucy and Challie into the inn and saw them settled with cool drinks while Bridget fussed over their injuries, but she declined Aylesworthy’s invitation to stay.
Just before she left, she touched the innkeeper’s arm and said, “We shall meet for a game of Dragon’s Bluff tonight. Downstairs.”
Aylesworthy simply nodded.
Pease bounced to his feet. “Me, too?” he yelped.
Saorsha’s piercing gaze did not leave Lucy�
��s face. “Not this time. I want to invite Lucy.”
Challie managed a dry smile. “You may not want to play with her. She is very good with games.”
Saorsha turned at the door and gave Lucy another brilliant glance. “I’ll wager she is.”
Lucy would not have considered going to the common room that night if it hadn’t been for Saorsha’s odd invitation. She felt terrible, and in spite of Bridget’s cool compresses and poultices, her face had swollen like an overripe melon. Whatever attractive qualities she had were now lost in the bruised and puffy flesh that covered the right side of her face. Yet she could not forget the searching look in Saorsha’s eyes and the invitation to play a game downstairs. As far as she could tell, the inn had no downstairs.
Ulin was not enthused about her going. He was still shaken by their mishap and the extent of their injuries. He laughed at her description of the hot potato spell, but he could not help feeling helpless and angry when he thought of Lucy and Challie at the mercy of four brutal ruffians.
Both accepted the assumption that the invitation was not about a game of cards. The people involved were the same ones the kender mentioned as members of the underground Vigilance Committee. The question in both their minds was why Saorsha wanted Lucy to attend. They agreed to eat in their rooms, and if the Committee wanted Lucy, someone could tell her when and where, and they would attend together.
Ulin passed on their request to Pease. The kender soon returned with a tray of food and wine and a large hourglass.
In a blink or two the table was laid. There was hot soup, cold meats, half a ripe cheese, and biscuits—plain food, but tasty and nourishing. Pease set out more candles, lit lamps, and set the hourglass on a low table.
“Turn the glass twice,” he instructed them, “then, if you please, Madam Saorsha and Master Aylesworthy beg the courtesy of your presence for a game. I will come get you.” He bobbed his head and hurried away.
Ulin speared some meat onto his plate. “Did she give any reason why she wanted you?” he asked for the third or fourth time.
“No,” Lucy replied patiently. She poured a glass of wine and sipped it. “She just invited me to play Dragon’s Bluff.”
“That’s a high stakes game,” he mused. “It requires strategy, skill, and some deception to win. I wonder what they’re up to.”
The two hours that followed seemed long and dreadfully slow. Ulin and Lucy ate a leisurely meal and talked while the sand trickled down and the evening turned to full night. When at last the top of the hourglass was empty, Pease knocked quietly on their door. Lucy unbound her hair and let the heavy chestnut locks fall across her battered face. Taking Ulin’s arm, she walked with him to the door and down the corridor behind the kender.
Silently—for once—Pease led them through a small hallway and into the kitchen. His mother glanced up from her place by a low stove and nodded to them. They filed quickly through a door and descended down a wooden staircase into the cellar filled with barrels of ale, racks of wine, and a large cooler. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room were lined with stone, which helped to cool the underground room and provide some protection from fire above.
Of course this place would have a cellar, Lucy thought. Is this the downstairs Saorsha referred to? She rubbed her sore neck and looked around, but she saw no one else.
Pease came to a stop by a large barrel resting on a stand against the far wall. “Here. We go through here,” he said happily. He pried off the round lid and pointed into the interior.
“You first,” Ulin said.
The kender agreeably crawled in on hands and knees and disappeared into the darkness. Ulin and Lucy could hear the numerous pouches on his belt jingle and rattle as he moved, then they heard a thump and his voice called back, “Come on! It’s easy!”
“It’s easy for you to say,” Lucy grumbled as she worked her way into the barrel. She wondered if there wasn’t another, easier way to get where they were going, for while the barrel and the tunnel behind were barely large enough for the two humans, she could not imagine the stout Master Aylesworthy hauling his frame through there.
The round tunnel passed through the wall and went straight for several yards before it ended in another darkened chamber. As soon as Ulin and Lucy climbed out, Pease carefully closed the exit with another wooden cover.
“It’s shut,” he said aloud.
A lantern was uncovered, and a dim light filled the room. A table, four straight chairs, and three people were all that could be seen. The chamber was utilitarian and unadorned.
“Thank you for coming,” said Saorsha. She gestured to her companions, Lysandros and Geoff Aylesworthy. “You know my friends.”
Ulin studied each one in turn. “You are the Vigilance Committee.”
“All the ones you will meet tonight,” Lysandros replied. “Have a seat.” He sat down in the dealer’s position, spread out a game board, and began to shuffle a deck of cards.
Saorsha and the innkeeper took their places at the table, leaving only one seat. Ulin held it for Lucy then stood like a silent sentinel at her back, his golden eyes hooded in shadow and his face unreadable.
“You know how to play?” Captain Fox asked.
Lucy crossed her arms and studied the board. Dragon’s Bluff was a complicated game involving cards, a game board with marked spaces, dice, and markers. In the center of the board, she was interested to see a red dragon figure perched on the winner’s space marked LAIR. There were several variations of the game using either good or evil dragons. The object of the game was to steal the dragon’s treasure while either “killing” or outwitting your opponents without being eliminated yourself. The red dragon was the most difficult dragon to defeat.
“Seven cards to a player,” she replied at last. “High cards take the tricks and move the markers forward. Bets on all hands. Winner takes all.”
“Ah, her father’s own,” Lysandros joked.
“No, I am not,” she said, her voice cold and deliberate. “You brought me down here to play this game. Tell me why.”
The captain winked and dealt the seven cards to each player. “Kings are high and dragons wild. The stakes are set at ten silver coins apiece.” He flipped a card over from the dealer’s pile. “Ah, the suit of hearts is trump. Players, pick your markers and place your bets.”
Aylesworthy made the first play, and the game commenced. Unwillingly, Lucy joined in, hoping they would explain themselves sooner or later. She flubbed the first two hands out of sheer irritation, leaving her silver marker sitting in the start box, but soon she settled down and began to play with a vengeance. Her marker moved steadily toward the dragon’s lair. Her pile of coins gradually increased from a stack to an impressive pile, until one by one her opponents were forced to drop out of the game.
During the last few hands only Lysandros remained. He played his cards carefully and trumped her enough to move his marker and win back several coins. Lucy said little. She sat perched on the edge of her chair and watched him steadily with her one eye through the strands of her long hair.
While the game continued, Saorsha studied Lucy like a master studying a prospective apprentice. When Lucy finally slapped her cards down and took all of the Fox’s coins, a slow smile of satisfaction spread across her worn face.
“Now,” Lucy said forcefully. “I have played your game.” She knocked the little red dragon from its lair and placed her marker on the winner’s place. “Tell me what you want or we will leave this moment.” Using the hem of her tunic for a pouch, she scooped up the pile of coins and rose to her feet.
Sarosha folded her hands on the table in front of her and glanced at the two men. Both gave her a brief nod. “You must think this whole thing is rather silly,” she said to Lucy. “Actually, we use this game as a test.”
The captain crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Dragon’s Bluff is not only a good measurement of an opponent’s concentration and determination, but it is also long. The game gives Saorsha he
re time to put her abilities to the best use.”
Both Ulin and Lucy looked at the old woman warily. “What sort of abilities?” Ulin asked.
Quiet pride filled Saorsha’s face. “I was born with a natural talent to read a person’s character. The only drawback is I cannot see through a person’s façade in the first few minutes. I need to be close to sense the good or evil, the compassion or hatreds, the fears and strengths that lie in a person’s mind. Oh, don’t worry,” she assured them. “I cannot read thoughts. I only see images of someone’s spiritual aura.”
Ulin frowned. “You’re a Sensitive? Did you ever train as a mage or a mystic?”
“I was a legionnaire, a calling I excelled at. The Legion appreciated my skill, but its leaders knew I did not have a strong enough talent or the self-discipline to wield magic. I preferred helping people in my own way.”
Lucy felt for the chair behind her and sat down again. “So what is your point to this?”
“We would like to offer you a job, young woman,” Aylesworthy said.
“What?” Lucy and Ulin spoke together. Neither one had expected this.
Lucy pushed her hair back. She was so taken aback by their intentions that she did not know what to say first.
“You are exactly what we need,” Saorsha told her. “Compassionate, strong, determined.”
Lucy’s lips tightened to a thin line. “So is Ulin. Why didn’t you ask him?”
The councilwoman smiled gently at Ulin without a hint of disappointment or condescension. “He is as you say and more, but his strengths are in a flux at the moment, while you have the advantage of a powerful reputation already in place that will work for you even when the magic fails.”
A start of surprise jolted through Lucy. “You know about the potatoes?”
“I watched you today in the market. I saw a look of annoyance flash across your face when you realized the spell had not worked, yet you did not quit. You bluffed your way through and won.”
Dragon's Bluff Page 9
