“A good place to start would be asking, let’s hope they do keep logs here. They did in Breden, they must here.”
“And if they won’t let you see them?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “Do you have any ideas?”
“I— I think I just may,” she said with intent eyes. Walter followed her gaze to a shop with hundreds of plants behind the windows. The sign above the entrance read, ‘The Herbalist’ and had carvings of trees on either side. He followed her into the shop and a small bell rang behind them. Along the walls from floor to ceiling were jars filled with loose flowers, leaves, roots, and other plant parts.
A thin woman came from a room behind the counter, shuffling and looking for something. She had a red line of paint down the center of her face and wooden beads in her hair. She wore an airy skirt and several large bags were draped across her body, brimming with branches and flowers.
“Oh, hi there. How are you?” she said, rifling through canvas bags on the floor.
“Good afternoon, my son is very sick,” Nyset lied. “He won't stop crying and it’s keeping the family up all night. Right hubby?”
Walter felt a rush of blood warming his cheeks. “Uh, yes. That’s right dear. It’s very difficult to work the land when you haven’t slept,” Walter said, smiling awkwardly.
“Ah-ha! Brightwort, finally found it,” the shopkeeper said, bending down. She grabbed a handful of bright blue branches and placed them on the counter and then leveled her gaze at Nyset. “Hm. For the crying boy, I think some Withersnap would do the trick. It should slowly lull him to sleep over the course of an hour.”
Walter turned his head to hide his snicker and wiped his hands over his mouth. He rested his hand on a nearby shelf and just barely caught a jar full of strange rectangular seeds before it came crashing to the ground.
“Don’t mind my husband, he had a bit too much ale last night.” She leaned in towards the shopkeeper and whispered loud enough so Walter could hear. “The young fool doesn’t know when he’s had enough, and I usually have to drag his drunk ass into bed. I’m sure you know how it is.” Nyset said.
Walter’s jaw dropped and no words would come out. He stared at Nyset and rapidly blinked.
“Well, it has been a while since I’ve had such a stud of a man in my bed,” the shopkeeper said, catching Walter’s eyes.
“Yes, well he is certainly very useful around the house.” Nyset rubbed her chin. “No, no Withersnap won’t do. This boy needs rest immediately. I think it’s the only way he’ll recover, and more importantly, the only way we’ll get some sleep. Do you have anything stronger, perhaps a bit more fast acting?”
The herbalist bit her lip and tugged on a beaded strand of hair. “What is it exactly that you were looking for?”
Nyset paused and looked over her shoulder at the door. “Do you happen to have any Spider’s Tail?”
“I knew it!” the herbalist said, taking a step back from the counter. “You are no ordinary citizen seeking to alleviate a simple ailment. I am going to have to report you to the herbalist’s guild for this request,”
Shit. Walter touched the Dragon and white hot magma boiled in his fingertips. A single bolt of fire floated in the back of his mind, pointed between the herbalist’s eyes. Nyset whipped her head around to look at him and sharply shook her head. Right, no violence.
“Why? What do you mean?” Nyset said, clearing her throat. She was as uncertain of the woman’s actions as Walter was, but felt the woman was still friendly enough.
The woman retrieved a small notebook from one of her many satchels, and started scribbling. “Well, it’s not very often that I meet someone who seems interested in studying the school of Herbalism. It is such a pleasure to meet a like-minded individual. I would love to add your name to our roster of potential candidates to join the sisterhood. Is that something you’d be interested in?”
Nyset’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “Why yes, I would be most interested in that. I’ve only started learning myself, from books. I was unaware there was such a group, that would be lovely. My name Nyset, and you are?”
“I am Lena.” Her bright purple eyes widened when she smiled.
“Our next meeting is tomorrow, you should come. If you can pass the guild master’s test, you’ll be welcome to join the guild. The sisterhood always welcomes another. Your husband can come to watch, but alas, he will be unable to join.”
Nyset turned and smiled at Walter. He nodded. Lena fished some small yellow thorns from a jar and stuffed them into a tiny pouch “Here is the Spider’s Tail, on the house. I do hope your boy makes a quick recovery.”
They left The Herbalist and Nyset was beaming. “I hadn't realized there was so much opportunity in the city. This is wonderful!” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling her small body into it. She was so warm, it felt nice to be so close to her.
“I don’t mean to spoil the fun, but we can’t forget about Juzo either. We could certainly use more friends in Midgaard, maybe we can find time for it,” he said, pulling at his hair. “Let’s focus on saving our hides for now.”
“If not now, then some other time then. If the guards are not willing to work with us, we could perhaps offer them some refreshing beverages in this summer heat.”
Walter grinned, “Right, I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” She punched him on the arm and he laughed.
Chapter Nine
Discrepancy
“The Black Wynch’s talons are as sharp as a blacksmith’s masterwork dagger. They cut with a graze and tear through bone with shocking ease. Their agility is unmatched and they use their talons with striking precision.” -from the Death Spawn Compendium by Nazli Tegen
They made their way through the market square and to the eastern side of the noble’s quarters. On this side of the noble’s quarters, the houses were still very beautiful, but not nearly as intricately designed as those on the Royal road. Walter wasn’t sure which road they were on or exactly where it led, but he kept the palace in view. As they drew closer to the palace, details such as the long spikes lining the palace’s ramparts came into view.
No, Midgaard does not mess around when it comes to security. Every defense has a weakness though, doesn’t it?
The road they had been following ended in a T-intersection. To the west were the ornate gates they entered two days ago. Its iron curves and graceful arcs glinted in the afternoon sun. To the east, the road wound to what would presumably be The Wall, a relic erected after the Leofolk invasion 2,000 years ago.
“Now where?” Nyset asked, pressing a hand on one of her overstuffed pouches. She peered easterly down the road towards The Wall.
“I’m not sure. Wait, there.” He pointed to a tiny house in the distance with three Falcon soldiers milling about, their red plumes stark against the sea of lush grass and narrow Cypress tress. A silver of smoke rose in front of the small house. “East of the palace, just like Grimbald said. Maybe we will live another day.”
“Fuck. A patrol,” Walter whispered, using his eyes to alert her to the pair emerging from the main gates.
“Eep!” Nyset chirped.
A pair of spear wielding guards walked casually towards them from the main gate. He quickly grabbed Nyset’s hand and started towards the guards, not that he needed an excuse to take her hand or anything.
“Lovely day,” he said nodding as they passed the guards.
“If you two are looking for the public gardens, you went the wrong way,” a round faced guard said. The other guard paid Walter a long sideways glance, twisting his neck as he walked. “Stupid, spoiled noble children,” he muttered to the pudgy faced guard.
“Thank you, sirs,” Nyset squeaked, looking around. The guards continued their patrol towards the eastern end of The Wall. Once the guards were out of sight, they returned to where they had started.
“You don’t have to fear them. Remember who you are, what you can do,” he said giving her hand a gentle squeez
e.
“Look, I think that’s a path. It looks like it was worn, but someone must have recently planted seed because the grass looks so young,” Nyset said, squatting and rubbing her hand over the grass.
They followed the makeshift path and, before they arrived at the guardhouse, the three guards stood at attention. A thickly muscled guard had his hand on the haft of his spear, one leaned against the house’s entryway with his arms crossed, and the other had one foot on a stool. The guard holding the spear stepped forward, placing the spear’s shining buttcap in the ground. He had two golden falcons on his collar and the others had none.
“Civilians aren’t allowed here. Are you kids lost?” Walter sized up the guards and then saw the entrance to the palace ten paces away. It was a plain rectangle cut in the wall of creamy stone. He allowed his eyes to pass over it as though it were not there.
“No, no. We’re not lost. We’re here on direct orders from King Ezra himself. We need to check your logs to see who’s recently passed through.” Walter said, puffing out his chest. The guards stiffened at the mention of the king’s name.
“He’s full of shit. Scram,” a guard with a square beard spat. The guard knelt and turned the sausages on the cook fire. Walter’s mouth couldn’t help but water. Should’ve had the damn Shroomling soup. He sighed.
“The king was recently attacked by an assassin and he ordered us to find the killer. Are you really going to violate a direct order from the king?”
“There was no such attack,” square beard said. “If there was, we would’ve heard about it, you can bet on that”
“No, there was a rumor of an attack. It’s not often that we hear about these types of things,” the leader said. “Just a second.” The leader reached into the guardhouse and came back with a grimy notebook, and handed it to Walter. “I don’t see any harm in them looking over the logs of the past couple days.”
“And that is about all the excitement we will get for the week,” square beard said, lighting his pipe on the cook fire.
“Thank you,” Walter and Nyset said in unison. They turned their backs on the guards and started rifling through the notebook, checking times and names.
“We got lucky, they are very meticulous,” Nyset said, tracing a finger along each of the neat rows.
“No Malek,” Walter groaned. He handed the notebook back to the leader.
“I am Nyset, and this is Walter, if you want to verify our story.”
“Pleasure to meet you, I am General Stokes of the Midgaard Falcon.”
I would have never guessed you were in the Falcon.
He stuffed the notebook into his back pocket. “Best of luck,” Stokes said.
“We’ll need it, otherwise we will be dead,” Walter muttered.
“You are such an optimist,” Nyset said, half-smiling.
“I prefer to call myself practical,” Walter said with a self-satisfied nod. “Let’s get moving. Hopefully we’ll have better luck at the next station.”
Walter scanned the grounds further north, spotting the next guardhouse.
“You are going to have trouble with that one,” Stokes said, nibbling on a smoking sausage. “He’s a tough old bastard, follows the traditional ways. As tight as Princess Ariel.”
“Like you would know, your prick hasn’t been in a woman in months,” one of the other guards laughed. The leader’s face burned crimson and he turned on the other two, shouting orders.
“We should be on our way then, thanks again,” Walter said. The leader continued yelling at his subordinates and ignored Walter.
The path beyond the guardhouse leading towards the next was a thin line of dirt. It led them past massive Cypress trees that stabbed into the blue sky. Walter’s neck was starting to develop a cramp from staring up at them for too long.
“Who is Princess Ariel?” he asked dreamily.
“The king’s daughter. Did you pay attention at all in school?”
“Not really. How old you think they are? Never saw anything like this back home.”
“I believe this is a Mammoth Cypress. I would guess these are about four hundred years-old, give or take fifty years.”
“Huh, that’s incredible. They’re beautiful.” Walter inhaled deeply and exhaled with satisfaction. “I’m surprised there aren’t more patrols after the assassination attempt.” He turned to face Nyset, enjoying her hazel eyes.
“Maybe they’re just trying to not disrupt people’s sense of safety. What started as rumors about the attacks in Breden and the Nether have probably been confirmed as truth at this point.”
“Maybe. Or maybe there are eyes we don’t see. Those Black Guards are an intimidating bunch.”
“So. You really think Malek had something to do with all of this?” Nyset crossed her arms and looked down. A gust of wind whipped brown and gold streaks of hair across her face.
Walter shook his head, lips forming a line. “There is something about him that I just don’t trust. My gut is rarely wrong.”
“He saved your life, don’t forget that.”
“I know he did, and please, don’t think I’m not grateful. Truly, I am —”
“You need to learn to trust people. It’s a hard, lonely road out there by yourself.”
Walter bit his tongue. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he is innocent and what I saw was a trick of my too tired eyes. Walter blew out his cheeks and nodded.
“Okay,” he said.
They came upon the next guardhouse. It was a clone of the last, with a round table big enough for three men to arm wrestle or play cards and cupboards to store a few snacks.
“Unguarded?” Walter asked quietly.
A short man with a bald head sprung from the doorway, brandishing a gleaming short sword and a round shield.
“Who are you?” the guard asked in a gruff voice.
“Finally, someone with enough pride to not wear one of those stupid helmets,” Walter blurted.
Nyset covered her mouth to hide her laughter.
“By the king’s honor, I’ll run you through for disgracing his majesty’s Falcon uniform. Who are you?” He came closer, sword point leveled between them.
“We mean you no harm, we come in peace, please lower your weapon,” Nyset said flatly. Nyset reached into one her pouches and her hand seemed to be kneading something within.
“You there, do you have any weapons under that tunic?” He waved the tip of his blade at Walter.
“No,” Walter said, lifting his shirt to prove it. The guard lowered his weapons and yawned. He stowed the blade and shield inside the guardhouse.
“I apologize. I was, ah, well, you snuck up on me,” the guard winced.
“I think the phrase is ‘napping on the job,’” Walter said smiling.
“You bastard, you question my loyalty to the king? To my duties?” the guard snarled.
“Nice job,” Nyset said over her shoulder to Walter.
The stout man pounded towards Walter, cracking his knuckles. “You noble worm. You think I would miss you two uglies?”
Walter tightened his abdomen, clenched his fists, and stepped one leg forward into a fighting stance. Ugly footwork, an unbalanced advance.
“Sleep on the job, you say? Fuck you, you —”
Nyset raised a cupped hand to her mouth and blew its contents into the man’s face. He sputtered and batted his hands against a cloud of yellow powder. Walter dropped and rolled backwards, getting out of the cloud’s reach.
“What did you — what is —” The guard stumbled into the shack and crashed into the table. He held one hand over his eyes and the other started furiously opening cupboards, tossing pink melons onto the ground. He bumped into the table again and fell lifelessly onto it, chest flat upon its surface and legs positioned vertically.
Walter raised a single eyebrow. “By the Dragon, what did you do?” He scanned their surroundings, checking for other inquisitive eyes. Specks of red could be seen through a small window from inside the other guardhouse.
“Relax, he’ll be fine. It was just crushed Spider’s Tail. He’ll enjoy the best nap he’s had in years,” she said, rubbing her jaw.
“I don’t know if I should kiss you, or kill you. Do you know how much trouble we’ll be in if someone finds out we drugged a guard?”
“A lot less trouble if someone found you fighting one,” she said, taking a step forward and walking slowly around him, looking him up and down. She took his hand and pulled him behind the guardhouse, out of sight from the distant shack.
There was something about the way her hips swayed that made his heart thump. His breath drew quickly and his mouth felt dry. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her full lips. He opened his mouth to say that they should keep moving, but the thought felt distant and unreachable.
“Nyset…” he started.
“Hm?” She stepped closer, head tilted to one side. Walter wanted to move away, but his feet felt like they were encased in iron boots. She came even closer, pink lips parted, her eyes intent on his mouth.
Her hands were cool against his face, tracing the side of his jaw and sliding behind his neck. He could smell her, his mind was intoxicated. Her warm breath caressed his neck. She pulled his head down towards hers. Her lips brushed his cheek, velvety and warm, then his nose, then his mouth.
Her lips gently tugged at his. She pressed her warm body against his and her hand slid into his hair. Her narrow tongue slid across his gums, his tongue, and the sides of his mouth. He moaned and gripped her tightly in his arms. His body trembled and all of his sensation was in his mouth. Why didn’t I do this earlier? Her teeth bit and tugged at his lips, a pleasant sort of pain.
He opened his eyes and inhaled deeply, staring into hers looking up at him. He felt his knees quiver and had to use a substantial effort to straighten them. Her curious eyes studied him, shining in the sun.
“Nyset.”
“Yes?”
“We, we should go check the logs… the… logs in the… guardhouse.” His throat felt like he had swallowed sand and it hurt to speak. She looked up at him and smiled. He wanted to kiss her again. Fuck Malek, the demon god Asebor, and the king. Fuck it all. He went to kiss her again and she put a hand on his chest, stopping him.
The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2) Page 10
