Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1)

by Hans Cummings

By the time their meals arrived, half the tables were filled. The patrons, a mix of humans and minotaurs, most of whom were dirty and loud, demanded ale and food. Janek served them all with a smile and a laugh. The steaming plates of meat and vegetables on their table smelled of herbs and spices. It was far better than Pancras expected to find in the working class part of town.

  As they ate, Pancras considered what they would do. Money wasn't an issue with the boon he received from Sarvesh before leaving Drak-Anor. "We need a plan. We're going to be here until the snows thaw. I think it would be unwise for us to do nothing but sit around our inn or wander the streets aimlessly."

  Edric nodded in agreement. "Aye, maybe I can find a gambling house or something."

  "That doesn't sound like a very good idea. You might need that coin for the trip to Muncifer." Pancras chomped down on a steaming tuber. "Unless you plan to stay here."

  "I could. I might." Edric looked around and shrugged. "No offense to you three, but there's no reason for me to keep dogging your heels."

  "I think we should spend a few days looking around town, seeing what's here." Kale paused to finish his mug of ale. He swayed a bit as he set his mug down. Pancras felt a bit lightheaded and fuzzy; the ale was stronger than the brew served in Drak-Anor. "Maybe an opportunity will present itself."

  Delilah waved down Janek and ordered another round of ale. "We should definitely try to find a nicer inn. The bed is okay, but Scarface has the personality of a rock. Not a nice rock, the nasty kind you overturn and find all sorts of gross, crawly things under."

  Pancras managed to turn his laugh into a chuckle. He didn't want to judge Scar too harshly. He didn't know what perils the minotaur had seen.

  "Maybe we should try to find that other inn tomorrow, the one the guard mentioned," Kale stifled a belch, a belch which seemed to burn in his throat. He coughed to clear his throat. "What was it called? The Grand Duchy?"

  "Grand Duchess." Pancras nodded. "It's a good idea. I don't hold out hope for that one, though. With a name like that, it must be very expensive."

  "I think we should split up." Delilah looked around the table. "We can cover more ground that way. We can meet up here for dinner again and share what we've learned."

  Edric pushed himself away from the table. "I'm going to go learn right now. See you tomorrow. I'll be here at sundown." He tossed a talon on the table and left the tavern.

  "Do you think he'll really come back?" Kale watched Edric go.

  Delilah shook her head. "He'll probably find a bunch of dwarves in town and stay with them. He doesn't fit in with us." She looked around the room. "And we don't fit in anywhere."

  Pancras wasn't entirely sure he agreed with that sentiment. Just because they hadn't seen many draks and minotaurs didn't mean belong. They hadn't seen enough of Almeria to know whether or not they would be outcasts the entire winter.

  "I think tomorrow we should stick together. None of us know this city well enough to not become lost. It would be very easy to wander into a dangerous area. We'll need each other's strengths." Pancras pushed away his now-empty plate.

  "Maybe the grump can give us some pointers." Kale reached over to Edric's abandoned plate and pulled it toward him. The dwarf ate all the meat, but barely touched his vegetables. Kale ate them with gusto.

  "It's worth a shot, I suppose." Pancras didn't hold out hope of obtaining useful information from Scar. He merely hoped they could make it through the winter without any unfortunate encounters like the one at the inn several weeks earlier. Pancras decided to start by going straight to bed and hoped the night would pass without incident.

  Chapter 7

  As Pancras slept, strange images entered his mind. He knew he was dreaming but was powerless to do anything but watch the scenes unfold. Darkness seeped into the room, and the shadows seemed to dance, although there wasn't any music. Kale stood in the doorway, mouthing words Pancras could not hear.

  The darkness crept toward Kale. The drak, oblivious to the danger, advanced into the shadow and emerged a skeleton, crumbling as Pancras reached for him, surprised that his own hand was a shadowy talon.

  Delilah entered the room next. She saw the crumbling form of her brother and screamed as her eyes melted from her face and ran down her cheeks. The scales flaked off her body, leaving raw, wet muscle behind, before it, too, melted into a puddle in Pancras's room.

  He awoke with a start. The soft glow of dawn poured through the window, drawing his eyes to the dust on top of the chest of drawers. Gasping for breath, Pancras threw open the sash without bothering to put on his robes. The cold air hit him like a fist to his chest but helped clear his head. He stepped over to the basin and pitcher atop the chest of drawers. Naturally, it's empty. I don't know what I expected.

  Yawning, Pancras rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He grabbed his malachite robes. For a moment, he thought he saw movement in the shadow he cast on the floor, but shook his head to clear his sleep-addled mind of lingering dream images.

  Pancras didn't think Scar would have anything to offer to break their fast in the morning, and when he wandered downstairs, he saw his suspicions were correct. Scar was not in the kitchen, nor had he left out any bread. Snores from the common room indicated they were no longer the sole tenants of The Sleeping Viper. Pancras peeked inside the doorway and saw Scar, leaning back in a chair, snoring with his mouth agape and oozing drool, as well as two humans slumped over the tables, asleep. Rather than disturb the innkeeper and risk his ire, Pancras returned upstairs and roused Kale and Delilah.

  By the time they left the inn, Scar had not yet risen, and although the sun was still low in the sky, the blacksmiths were already hard at work. Their cacophonous clanging was enough to cause his head to throb, and Pancras was eager to search for other lodging in a quieter part of the city.

  "Do you think our stuff will be okay?" Delilah looked back at The Sleeping Viper. Already, the streets teemed with people going about their daily routine.

  "Should be, if you locked the door to your room." Pancras patted his pocket to ensure the key was still in it. They followed the street until they reached a large thoroughfare. Pancras made a few inquiries of a nearby guard, and soon they were headed back toward the Commerce District.

  Over the din of the crowd, a clarion called folk to worship. From the tight streets of the Foundry District, Pancras couldn't see which temple summoned its devoted. Most people around them seemed to ignore its call. The rumble of distant thunder promised to put a damper on the morning, so Pancras urged Kale and Delilah to move faster, although they did not know where they were headed, exactly.

  Despite the crowds, Pancras was pleased to be back in civilization. The wilderness was no place for a minotaur like him. He always felt more comfortable around buildings and shops and vendors hawking their wares than he did sleeping under the open sky and fending off swarms of midges.

  I hope there are shops with reasonably-priced clothes in my size. He glanced down at the hems of his robes. They were stiff with soaked-in mud and ragged from the long trip. He tried to limit what he wore during their travels so at least one set of robes remained in decent condition, and now that the prospect of obtaining horses or a cart to take them to Muncifer come spring seemed likely, he figured a few extra pounds of clothing would not unduly burden him.

  Streets in the Commerce District all ran toward the city market. The market itself was a large building-free area with its own gate. Farmers from the surrounding farmlands brought their wares, produce, and livestock to sell. The market was open every day, and therefore, foot traffic was always heavy past nearby shops. Merchants who owned shops in the city preferred locations closer to the actual market, and many merchant families maintained ownership of their properties from generation to generation.

  Towering, gilded gates marked the entrance to the city market. Within the vertical supports were statues of Dolios and Anetha, the god and goddess of commerce and civilization, respectively. Pancras led the two draks into the market. Ven
dors selling everything from weapons and armor to fine clothing, baked goods, cheeses, fresh vegetables, livestock, and more filled the market.

  Pancras reached into his pouch and handed Kale and Delilah a handful of coins. "Let's do some shopping while we're here. We'll meet at that pie vendor over yonder when we're finished."

  * * *

  Kale looked around in wonder as he put the money Pancras gave him in his pouch. "Have you ever seen anything like this, Deli?"

  A human's pack smacked Delilah across the snout. She rubbed it as she glared daggers at the oblivious man. "No. We're the smallest things here, Kale. We'd better move it before we get squashed!"

  Dodging a different human, who rushed past carrying a basket of small, red fruit, Kale splashed in a puddle. He hoped it was water. Delilah grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd. They paused in a covered stall filled with jars and urns.

  The shaggy, bearded man tending the stall held out an earthenware jar toward them, tilting the lid. "Black lotus? Stygian, the best!"

  Delilah held up her hand and shook her hand. "Perhaps later. Look over there, Kale!" She pointed to a stall selling cloaks and robes.

  They dashed across the street and into the cloak seller's stall. Kale looked around at the mountains of cloth arranged by color and type of fabric. The merchant dozed on a stool nearby and awoke with a start when Delilah tapped her leg with her staff. She held up the fraying hem of her cloak. "Got anything in our size? Ours are getting a little threadbare."

  Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the woman nodded. "I have some cut for children." Her eyes narrowed. "You can pay, yes?"

  Kale jingled his coin purse. "Of course we can!"

  Satisfied, the woman described how her cloaks were the finest in the city. Her performance was similar to that of all the merchants around her. Kale found a hooded, dark-brown wool cloak that suited him and watched passersby as Delilah spent what seemed like hours trying on various fabrics and colors until she ended up with a fur-trimmed forest-green mantle. Supposedly, it was made especially for a nobleman's daughter who tragically died in a runaway cart accident. In his mind Kale questioned the veracity of her story, but Delilah nodded sympathetically as the merchant told the tale.

  "Are you ready to go? We need to meet up with Pancras, and I'm getting hungry again."

  Delilah twirled around. "This is fantastic. Now I'll be warm all winter!"

  By the time they found their way back to the pie vendor, they found Pancras waiting for them. He chatted with the baker as he pulled a steaming, golden brown pie out of the small, brick oven set up in front of his stall. Pancras dropped a silver talon on the counter.

  "Svarog here says these are the best meat pies in the city."

  "That's right." The baker broke the talon in half and returned half to Pancras. "Only the finest chickens and lambs go in my pies."

  Kale couldn't deny it smelled delicious. The aroma of spiced chicken with fresh herbs wafted past his nose. "Everyone here says their wares are the finest in the city."

  Svarog laughed. "That's right. Everyone is the best! All our wares are better than everyone else’s, but my pies are better than that pig Yuri's!" He made an obscene gesture at a tavern across the street.

  "Well, it's a good thing we purchased yours, then." Pancras grabbed the pie with the edge of his cloak and led Kale and Delilah over to a nearby stoop. "I see you two purchased new cloaks and robes. Anything else?"

  "We didn't have time. It took Deli all that time just to find the right robe. She tried on everything that woman had. Twice!"

  Delilah stuck her tongue out at Kale. "Some of us are more discerning than others. I wasn't going to be satisfied with the first ratty cloak I came across."

  "It's not ratty!"

  His sister did not indulge her vanity very often, and Kale liked her new cloak, so he let the matter drop. When they finished eating, the three set off together. They still needed to find a better inn. That task proved challenging. The inns that catered to minotaurs were unwilling to accommodate draks. The inns that accommodated draks did not have beds large enough for minotaurs. A few inns demanded they leave as soon as they entered their doors, and they still had not found The Grand Duchess or The Manticore & Dragon Inn.

  Kale wasn't sure he wanted to go look for the latter two, since it would mean sleeping in separate inns. He agreed with Pancras that they should stick together for safety.

  As the afternoon waned, they decided to return to The Assassin's Dagger, eat, and plan for tomorrow.

  "Hopefully, Edric will have some good news for us." Kale gathered up his new cloak as he tiptoed through a puddle.

  "If he even shows up." Delilah pulled Kale to a stop in front of their inn. "Go on ahead, Pancras. I want to check on our stuff."

  The minotaur nodded and proceeded into the tavern.

  "I just have a funny feeling, Kale. Like we've been robbed." Delilah entered the inn. They heard Scar arguing with another customer about lumpy beds in the common room. Scar's roar was followed by a heavy thump. Kale hurried upstairs after his sister.

  I hope she's wrong.

  * * *

  Delilah approached the door with trepidation. She pulled the key out of her pouch and unlocked it. To her surprise, her pack was where she left it on the bed. She ran over and jumped up on the bed. The pack bounced, nearing the edge of the mattress. Delilah lunged to grab it before it fell. She felt a twitch in her back as the book-laden pack lurched to a stop.

  The new pain in her back was proof enough of the pack's contents. She groaned and hauled it back on the bed. She heard Kale approaching and looked up as her brother entered their room.

  "Are you coming? Pancras is waiting for us next door." He leaned against the door, lifting a foot to pick at his heel. Delilah sympathized. Walking on the cobbles all day made her feet hurt, too, and she was pretty sure there were pebbles embedded between some of her scales.

  "I just wanted to check on my books. It doesn't look like anyone disturbed our stuff." She moved the pack to the center of the bed and hopped off onto the floor. She grabbed her staff and looked at it. It's just dinner. She tossed it on the bed.

  "Who would? They'd have to contend with Scar. He'd probably gore them and grind their bones to bake into bread." As he said it, Kale's face fell and he turned around. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he saw no one was behind him.

  Delilah looked out into the hallway. "Expecting Scar to be there?"

  "Yeah, I'm a little jumpy all of a sudden. My scales are crawling, like someone is watching me." Kale shivered and rubbed his arms. "Let's go eat. I'm hungry."

  "Good idea." Delilah pulled the door shut and locked it. Together they went next door to The Assassin's Dagger. Pancras was already seated at the same table they used the night before. Tankards of ale awaited Kale and Delilah. Several other tables were occupied by patrons, but the raucous crowd had yet to arrive.

  "I got us a pork roast to share." Pancras raised his mug to the draks. "It should be out soon."

  Kale clinked his tankard against Delilah's. "I have to admit, the fare is better than what we get at home."

  "Maybe you should learn how to cook." Delilah grinned at her brother. "I'm sure Suri would give you job."

  "I like what I do." Kale worked on keeping the siege engine defenses working properly. Delilah helped with that, too, but now that fighting with the neighboring dwarves was no longer a regular occurrence, they didn't have to perform as much upkeep.

  "Where's Edric?" Delilah looked around the tavern, but didn't see their dwarven companion.

  "He hasn't shown up yet." Pancras glanced at the window. Waning light foretold dusk's approach.

  Lenka, Janek's rotund wife, weaved her way through customers milling around the bar and brought their roast. Her stringy hair was tied back under a kerchief to keep it out of the food she served, and her weathered skin told of a life of hard work. "Here you go, dearies. One leg roast with all the trimmings."

  Orange, yell
ow, and green vegetables surrounded a steaming, pink roast. Its surface with flaked with herbs and spices and its aroma made Delilah's mouth water and stomach grumble. Pancras carved a hunk for Kale, then for her, and finally for himself. As she prepared to dig in, a shadow crossed over her and loomed between her and Kale.

  "That's my table."

  Delilah looked up to see a bare-chested minotaur. Veins stood out against knotty muscles. His brown fur was matted in spots, and both horns had jagged tips where they'd been broken off. His blood-shot eyes glared down at them, and his notched and torn ears twitched.

  "Now," Pancras set down the knife and held up his hands. "We sat here yesterday and Janek there said we could sit—"

  The minotaur slammed his fists on the table, spilling Delilah's ale to the ground. "I don't care with that fat, greasy human said. I sit here. Everyone knows it. Move your scrawny asses before I eat them for dinner!"

  The tavern fell silent. Delilah could feel everyone's eyes upon them. She reached for her staff before remembering that she left it in the room.

  "Ktinos! They're paying customers." Lenka grabbed the minotaur's arm. "There are plenty of other tables."

  Ktinos pushed Lenka away. "Don't touch me, Woman."

  "There's no need to get angry." Pancras pushed himself away from the table and stood with deliberate movement. He gestured at their empty chair. "We have room for one more."

  "I don't share!" The minotaur shoved Delilah backward, upending her chair and sending her flying into the next table. Stars exploded in her vision. Through the haze, she saw customers jump up and scatter. Some backpedaled to the far side of the tavern, while others bolted out the door.

  "Deli!"

  She rolled over and looked up. Kale leapt at the minotaur, snarling drawing one of his daggers. He sunk it into the minotaur's arm down to the hilt and hung on with both hands. Ktinos roared and thrashed. He grabbed Kale by the waist and tried to pull him away, but Kale bit the tip of his nose. Delilah saw the tips of Pancras's horns glow.