Chapter Seventeen
Odet
Minutes after the boys left, Clarissa’s efforts to tidy up their piled possessions revealed Gerard’s deck of cards stored inside a pouch he carried other paper items.
“Do you want to start our own chance house?” Clarissa asked me. “We can pretend to gamble against each other. Or are you too tired?”
I sat up on the bed and curled my unbooted legs underneath me. “No, we can play. Get my coin pouch. We’ll split it up and pretend we’re putting our entire fortunes on the line.”
Going to the drawer I put my smaller possessions in, she replied, “Well, for me that’s closer to the truth. Be prepared to lose your palace, princess.”
“I fully expect to lose. Gerard has taught me a few games, but I am by no means proficient in any of them.”
Jumping on to the bed, she said, “I doubt that. I doubt you’re bad at anything.”
I dumped the leather purse’s contents in front of me. “A perception I have no problem proliferating if it means greater leverage in war or trade, but I’d be lost without the advice of my parents and advisors. Anyone with an average mind can do and learn much with such support.”
Clarissa shuffled the deck. “I suppose you have more advantages than most. Still, I don’t think your mind is average.”
“Thank you. I don’t think your mind is average either.”
She took her half of the divided coins. “See, you’re being nice. There’s no proof I’m anything but average.”
“You’re a vampire who resists drinking human blood. I’d say that’s not average. You’re also the closest friend of the first dragon knight in five centuries, and this dragon knight does not humor the average for long.”
Her rising and dipping shoulders disregarded my words, but her smiling lips did not. “I suppose he doesn’t. Which game do you want to play?”
For its simple rules, the first game we ended up playing was called kraken’s luck. It had not been created with only two people in mind, so the game turned out to be long and somewhat tedious. We thus moved on to six spirits, a faster paced game that saw the vaults of my palace empty in less than ten minutes every game. I did not enjoy losing so quickly, so we moved back to kraken’s luck after a few games.
In the middle of this second round, Clarissa asked, “Can I be a tad rude?”
“You’ve earned the right to be moderately rude with me.”
“Um, okay. Have you and Gerard… you know.”
“Consummated our relationship?”
“Yes.”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering why you and he don’t buy a room together.”
“Oh, well, to be honest, in the midst of saying my goodbyes and preparing my gear, I forgot to bring sariff with me. I also forgot my hairbrush.”
“Right, sariff. Vampires can’t have children, so sariff is pointless for me. Can’t you go buy some?”
“I could, though I’d have to take the time to find a reputable vendor first. At any rate, traveling so intimately with others already had me expecting to forgo further consummations with my green knight. We’re on a mission, and we can’t let our guards down. I hate to imagine being in the middle of a compromising position if something were to befall.”
Clarissa giggled at the notion. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Gerard fight undressed. Oh! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t talk like that ab-”
I laughed. “It’s okay, really. The vision of my knight’s stripped form is perfect in my own mind… and yes, I can imagine him wielding and thrusting both swords with equal parts strength and grace.”
Now we both laughed. While doing so, envisioning a strapping Gerard in all his bare-fleshed glory had me wishing I had carried the foresight to bring my sariff and buy another room for the night.
Once our laughing trailed off, I asked, “Now, do you mind if I’m a tad rude?”
“Go ahead.”
“How did it feel like becoming a vampire?”
“Oh, that. Well, all it took to get infected was getting my finger bit and sucked on for a few minutes. Then, about a day later, I started getting a bad fever. It’s scary feeling parts of your insides failing or changing. Ghevont says the stomach and liver changes the most. Anyway, the fever lasted until I passed out a few days later. A lot of people don’t wake up after that. I woke up very cold and very hungry. I still feel cold, but I’m used to it by now. Unless I’m in the worst of blizzards or holding a chunk of ice, I’m quite comfortable in freezing weather.”
“But the sun hurts you?”
“‘Hurt’ is a strong word, at least at first. Maybe after a few hours it hurts, but sunlight to me is like the bitter cold to you. Or maybe it’s more like hard itching. Well, imagine your body shivering without the actual shaking. Ghevont wonders whether being outside in the daylight as often as I am will help my body adjust to sunlight better than other vampires.”
“How will he know if you adjust?”
“He says the older a vampire gets, the worse sunlight will get for them, so if I don’t feel the sun’s effects get any worse after a few years, then I’ve adjusted. It’s one of his long running experiments.”
“Do you think the scholar is running an experiment on me?”
“You’re a royal valkrean. I’m a hundred percent sure he is. Don’t worry, Mercer assures me Ghevont will not experiment on our corpses should we die.”
“How considerate.”
As our game progressed, I sensed the steadily uncomfortable urge to relieve the unexploited nutrients that collected in the lowest bowels of a person. At the conclusion of our latest round, I excused myself and decided to use the private chambers this well-to-do inn provided at the end of the dim hall.
Seeing me coming, an elderly female attendant opened one of the four doors to the little rooms, which contained the narrow stone wells that tunneled down to an out-of-the-way, reeking hollow somewhere below. Fifty scented candles suffocated any reeking wisps that scaled the well and poured over the brim.
With my business done, I shut the door and made a quick bow to the attendant. I did not see her return it since my attention was drawn to the noise of a child yelling for help. The exclamation came from the silhouette of a little girl jumping up and down in the middle of the hall. A moment after my bare feet started their sprint, Clarissa opened our door and followed the girl into a room opposite our own.
Others heard the call for aid and cracked open their doors to get a clue of what was happening. The back of a young man’s head popped out from the shadowed entrance to the stairs, but he did not move anything more into the hallway. On crossing into the room Clarissa had entered, I saw the vampire slapping the back of a hunched over gentleman choking on something. The little girl danced around in a circle in her fright and still yelled for someone to help unclog the throat of her father.
Getting on my knees to try and catch the girl, I said, “Don’t be afraid to slap him harder, Clarissa!”
The child, no older than ten or eleven and carrying a rosy plumpness in her cheeks, passed into my arms. Not yet knowing what the outcome was going to be, I lifted the girl off the floor and prepared to take her out of the room lest her gaunt, black haired father collapse and die in front of her. However, before I could turn us away, a stick of food or bone flew out the red-faced man’s mouth and landed on the same bed his hand found support on.
Hearing her father taking big breaths again, the little girl yelled, “Papa!” and squirmed her way out of my arms. She jumped on to his lap as he sat on the bed.
After giving him a few seconds to recover, I asked, “Are you well, sir?”
“Yes… Yes…” To Clarissa, his hoarse voice said, “Thank you, young lady… I thought a permanent visit to my ancestors was imminent.”
“No thanks needed, sir. I just reacted. Oh, do you want water?”
“Please.”
She looked around and found a cup on a table that also held the half eaten plate of chicken a
nd rice. Not knowing how else to be rid of it, Clarissa spilled the few gulps of wine on the floor and refilled it with water she pulled out of the air.
“A caster, eh?” said the father. He took the cup and drank it. “Ah! Cold and refreshing! Of course, even the wine on the floor would be refreshing after a near death experience like that!”
Behind me, a woman asked, “Everything all right in there?”
“Yes,” I answered, tuning around to see five people had gathered outside the door’s threshold. “The gentleman is only catching his breath now.”
“Thank you for coming everyone!” said the daughter.
Satisfied, the small crowd filed back to their rooms.
“What are the names of my champions?” asked the father. Once our names had been given, he said, “Well then, Madam Garnet, Madam Clarissa, Miksa and I have little coin at the moment to give as my thanks, but is there anything else I can do? Anything at all and I will do my best to aid you. Please, name it.”
“It’s quite all right, Master Modestus,” I said. “Unless you have an army in Efios you can lend us, we want for naught.”
“Efios?”
“Er, nothing. If we do think of anything, we will be right across the hall. Let’s go, Clarissa.”
“No, stay! At least have a drink! A toast to my continued existence!” He went to get his wine bottle.
“Just a sip for me,” said the vampire.
As he poured the drink, Master Modestus said, “I wish I had asked for a higher quality wine.”
“Can I have a cup, Papa?”
“A cup, yes. One with wine, no. Here, have Madam Clarissa’s cool water.”
He handed us our cups and we toasted his survival. A few words of farewell later and we shut his door behind us.
As we took a step toward our room, I said, “That’s pretty good awareness.”
“Of what?”
“You closed our door before helping the girl.”
She stopped walking. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
Whispering, she replied, “I didn’t close it.”
Our heads slowly turned back to our shut door, then our bodies lunged for the iron handle. We pushed, but the door barely budged. The next push had prana behind it, nudging open the door enough to slip inside. A chair wedged against the door was the culprit for the hard to open access, and an open window was to blame for the blowing curtains, a window that had been closed the last time I saw it. Tied to one of our dresser’s legs, one of our twisted bed sheets hung over the window and scraped against the brick exterior of the inn.
The white linen sheet came from the bed we had been pretending to gamble on. Worse than the missing coin, I could not find Ghevont’s staff. Gerard’s sword and its sheath were also gone. Mercer’s sword lied on the floor. The tip of my weapon’s scabbard still poked out from under the pillow.
Clarissa, heading for the window, said, “Damn, damn, damn! I’m sorry, Odet! I’m so sorry! It’s my fault! I should have-”
Going for Aranath, I said, “No, I should have secured the room before coming to help. It’s nobody’s fault. Er, or maybe it’s both our fault.” I picked up Mercer’s scabbard. The enchantment resisted, but it subsided when the dragon sensed a familiar hand. “What do you know, Aranath?”
Using an angry snarl that almost made me drop him, he said, “A stranger with feeble prana attempted to grip the blade. I did not permit it, of course. Before he dropped it, I saw the nismerdon stave in his other hand! What folly allowed such a thing to happen, girl?!”
“I’ll explain later.”
“We have to go get Mercer and the others!” said Clarissa, running for the hallway.
I followed her out, shutting our door behind me. Then, before I could take another step, Master Modestus’ door came within view. A cynical insight invaded my conscious. I remembered how the little girl’s desperate cries brought out others from their rooms, leaving them vulnerable for a few moments.
“Wait, Clarissa. Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
“What is?”
I did not wait for her opinion on my unspoken theory, knowing only one blunt method could prove me right or wrong. I dashed for his door. Hard knocks accompanied by loud pleas conveyed no answer.
“You think they tricked us?” asked Clarissa. “The father and little Miksa?”
I cast my shield, preparing to burst open the entry by slamming my spell into it. “It’s beginning to seem that way.”
“Wait!”
Clarissa stepped up and pushed on the handle. It opened without trouble and to a room empty of its occupants. This window had the same arrangement as our own. Another dash took us to the window, this time with a result. Even without the vampire’s nocturnal vision, I could recognize the former lodgers escaping into the nighttime alleys a hundred feet away. I cast my shield a few feet below the window.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going after them.” My soles landed securely on the floating ward, its warm, glass-like surface having a little give to it. “Let’s go!”
“You go. I’ll get the others.”
“There’s no time! I need your help! I’ll lose them in the dark!”
Clarissa cursed our situation as she crawled over the window and joined me on the incantation. Another ward lower down and we leapt to the ground. My feet became jealous of Clarissa’s feet, which still wore their footwear. Running in the western direction I saw the absconders take, my feet pounded hard against the stone pavement, Clarissa’s stamping boots trailing close behind. Now at ground level, buildings, trees, hedges, fences, and other obstructions thwarted our view of our quarries.
“Can you smell them?”
“I’m not a dog! Unless they’re bleeding, I can’t sniff them out from this far.”
The streets and alleys were largely quiet and under the domain of night. Our steps and breaths echoed loudly, especially when we passed between buildings. I worried about guardsmen ordering us to stop if they spied me holding a sword while running, but only a couple of dogs took any note of us. In fact, a dog barking up ahead suggested that it must have been reacting to the tricksters’ presence. I thus changed my path to head a little more southward.
A hundred yards after changing course brought us near a brighter main street. Guardsman and tavern patrons roamed the area, forcing us to halt the chase to look around and not bring attention to ourselves. Without the sun hindering her, Clarissa caught her breath much faster than a human. I leaned against a skinny tree growing on the slope of a small grassy hill.
“Do you… see anything?”
“No. Gods, we are so dead. Mercer will never trust us again. He might seriously lea-” She squeaked the words, “Do you smell that?!”
“What? What smell?”
She sniffed the air. “I smell shit!”
“I hope that has something to do with our problem.”
“It does!” As she spun her head around a few times, she said, “I remember smelling a hint of dung next to Master Modestus. I didn’t think anything of it. Some people just smell like they don’t clean themselves well, but what if something else is to blame? Look! Down there!”
She sprinted toward a small trench dug at the bottom of the hill. Tall grass greener than the surrounding blades sprouted within it. Once I got closer, I could see the holes of a rusted metal grate four feet tall hiding behind the grass. A puff of defecation came out of it.
“What do you think?” asked Clarissa.
“It’s our best bet. Open the grate.”
With tendrils of water, my fellow fool grabbed the grate and pulled it off the crumbling stone tunnel it blocked. It should have been harder to free, but Clarissa had no problem removing the impediment. I took it as further evidence we headed the right way. Gods, of all the places to go barefoot in.
Bless Clarissa, she moved ahead of me and used her spell to sweep away and freeze the trickle of brownish water as best she could. As an added safeguard against dis
gust, I cast little shields for my feet to gain a foothold on when the mess looked too great to overcome. Nothing, however, could stop the foul air from reaching my lungs, making me gag every other inhale.
Trying to move with haste in the confined sewer had our bent knees taking awkward strides. I hoped Master Modestus suffered the same pace, if not slower. The tunnel expanded in width several dozen strides later. A little after that and our tunnel opened to a circular room with ten feet of headroom. Torch light from the street above filtered through a few uncluttered slits. Including the tunnel we came from, four passageways stretched out in different directions.
“Damn it,” said Clarissa. “Where do we go? Do we split up?”
“No.” I turned to look at the tunnel going southeast. “If I’m keeping track correctly, they went this way.”
“Why? How can you be certain?”
Returning to my arched position and waving Clarissa over, I explained, “Because going north means heading deeper into Enstad’s aristocratic territory. The guard presence should be greater.”
Clarissa took the lead again. “I don’t think the guards patrol down here.”
“I’m thinking of the actual thief. He escaped our room holding a staff, a sword, and gold. He can’t risk attracting a guard so encumbered. A thief stands a better chance hiding among more common folk, so that’s where his partners will find him if he has to go back up.”
“Makes sense, I guess. Let’s hurry!”
A couple of minutes after choosing our new tunnel, a little girl’s giggle reverberated down the gag-inducing corridor. It did not sound very near, so Clarissa looked back to check if I had heard it. I nodded. We pushed ourselves to be both quicker and stealthier.
A startled squeal almost broke through Clarissa’s throat when she jumped out of the way of a rat the size of a small cat. The rat moseyed by me as well, its unhurried gait suggesting it was unconcerned with the human presence in its underworld province. Smaller rats scurried by more often when narrow side tunnels appeared. As none of these fit an adult man, they did not complicate our course. Furthermore, our course became clearer when the echoes of footfalls reached us with greater regularity and proximity.
The Dragon Knight's Soul (The Dragon Knight Series Book 4) Page 17
