Alaric Swifthand
Page 4
Chapter Seven
It is a source of constant amazement to me that Theona and I managed to avoid trouble for a year after the passenger incident. After all, we had several things working against us.
First there was Theona. While she was always pleasant enough to me, she had spent most of her life as the daughter of a noble and had not yet grown accustomed to what was expected of a commoner. She was constantly frustrated by the fact I was the only one who cared what she thought or felt. For Theona, this was not a natural state of affairs.
Then there was the fact I was qualified for precious little besides guard duty, which meant I was constantly in the company of a rough and tumble crowd. Our idea of a good time was getting drunk, going out into the woods and looking for bandits to abuse. More often than not, the only action was a brawl amongst ourselves, which was fine. In our various states of inebriation, we wouldn’t have been able to handle anyone who’d actually meant us harm.
The final ingredient that worked against us was that, due to financial concerns, we were forced to live in a rather nasty neighborhood. Though many still thought I was a high ranking assassin, others were not aware of the fact. More than once, I had to teach one of the thug-like denizens of the sector a lesson they would not soon forget. After everything Theona and I had been through, it was all rather anticlimactic.
Strangely enough, it was none of those elements that propelled me into a new set of adventures. It began again on a cold evening in a tavern called the Wicked Warlock. I had started to think of the Warlock as a second home, though there was nothing homey about it. It was dimly lit, smoky, and filled with polished wood fixtures (when anyone bothered to polish them). Booths lined the sides of the place and a few tables were scattered about the floor. The chairs were of wood and horribly uncomfortable, but since most of the patrons were well beyond physical sensation anyway, it seldom represented a problem. I tended to spend most of my time at the bar itself, sitting on the tall, mismatched stools that lined its length. The stools were probably just as uncomfortable, but at least from a bar stool you expected that.
Theona and I were unhappily sober, as the rent was soon due and we didn’t want to spend the last of our money on ale. Around us, the Warlock was filled with the usual crowd of malcontents. Warriors with no wars, merchants with no merchandise and various other scrapings from the bottom of the humanity’s barrel. Theona and I fit right in.
I was in the middle of one of those stupid arguments that seem important at the time, but a day later are beyond recall. I think Theona had accused me of looking at one of the ladies for hire and I was busily trying to deny it. It was business as usual. I was too busy trying to exonerate myself to notice the stranger arrive.
The bartender grabbed my arm. Areet was a tall fellow, slender with thinning gray hair and a tuft of a beard that looked like nothing so much as a white caterpillar. I looked at him and he gestured with his head. It was only then I realized the rest of the Warlock had fallen silent.
The newcomer was a large man with bulging muscles, a bald head, a thick, black mustache that looked like the haft of a broom, and a swagger that spoke volumes about his confidence. I had never seen anyone I disliked more on first sight.
He moved across the tavern as if he owned it and every eye followed his progress. As if by mutual agreement, no word was uttered. Perhaps everyone felt as I did. This man was an invader into our domain and should have been more cautious. It was a caution to me that he wasn’t.
Areet released my arm and moved toward him. I felt a throbbing at my hip. Surprised, I looked down. The Sword of Truth, which had not bothered me for more than a year, was suddenly awake in a way I had never experienced. I placed my hand on the hilt and made my way in the newcomer’s direction, ignoring Theona’s questioning stare.
He barely glanced up, even when I stood directly beside him. Areet took his order and returned with a bottle and a glass. He set the pair before the man, looked at me oddly and backed away. The man poured half a glass of some amber liquid, tossed it down, studied the glass for a few moments, then turned to regard me.
I returned his gaze with more confidence than I felt. I instinctively knew this man was out of my league.
When he spoke, his voice was softer than I thought it would be, but for all that, it was the harshest sound I’d ever heard. “Something I can do for you?”
I smiled, though my legs felt weak. “Perhaps.”
He grunted and turned back to his bottle. “And what might that be, little man?”
The Sword of Truth was burning hot against my leg and I wondered what I was doing. Then, without any conscious decision on my part, the weapon was in my hand. The stranger was off his stool in the same moment, holding a heavy looking broadsword in a fist that was larger than it had any right to be.
“If you’re trying to impress the lady, I think you should reconsider.”
I wanted desperately to answer, but I found myself unable. First I thought of the passengers, but this was somehow different. It was as if some external force had taken control of my body. Without warning, I leapt forward and swung my sword in a vicious arc.
The stranger parried it, easily. The moment our swords met, his mind was laid opened to me. I saw a large iron box, locked with a padlock, in a room that looked familiar. He returned my attack with one of his own and I jumped backwards and shook myself. Behind me, I could hear Theona trying to get my attention.
The sneer that settled on his face did little to assist his appearance. He came at me, but I was ready, knocking aside his thrust with more than a little effort. Once again our blades met. Again, I saw the box, but this time recognized the setting. It was a room in a rundown inn not far from here. Theona and I had spent some time there before we found our current lodgings.
I had no time to think before he attacked again. As I turned his thrust, his memories became mine. In a recent battle he’d hurt his left leg. It was all I needed to know.
I moved in closer, brought my blade up as if to attack and kicked him as hard as I could in his knee. My opponent screamed in pain and, for just long enough, dropped his guard. My own swipe was right on target. I felt my blade bite deeply into his arm. His sword clattered to the ground.
I wanted desperately to stop then, but my body was not my own. I moved in closer, swinging my blade with more speed and skill than I thought I’d possessed. He tried to back off, but with an injured knee, could not avoid my attack. Only when he lay on the ground in a pool of blood, did I stop.
Theona was at my side, studying me as if I was a stranger. I could hardly blame her. At least I’d regained control of my limbs. I turned toward her and tried to find the words to explain what had happened.
She managed to find her voice first. “What have you done?”
“I wish I knew.”
Numerous whispered conversations created a background buzz, while I wrestled with the task of explaining. After a short while, I gave up. How could I explain a thing I didn’t understand myself?
I turned toward the door. “Come on. We have to go.”
She looked at me uncertainly, but didn’t resist when I grabbed her arm. As I passed through the crowd of regulars, for the first time in my life, I heard the name Swifthand. Though it would be several more years before it caught on, I am certain it was that night that earned me the name.
Theona and I entered the cold night. She didn’t ask where we were going, nor did I tell her. Darkness closed in around us as we made our way toward the White Boar Inn. I don’t know how, but I was certain at least some of the answers I sought could be found in a locked iron box.
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Chapter Eight
As we hurried through mostly deserted streets, I thought about the woman who had been my lover for the last year. Theona wasn’t quite beautiful, but there was about her a strength I found appealing. In spite of that, there were times she seemed so fragile I was afraid to speak with her.
I often wondered w
hy she didn’t return to her father’s mansion back in Modron. Only recently did I actually raise the question. I can still picture the pain on her face as she answered.
“How could you, of all people, expect me to go home and just resume my life? You’ve lived with one of Them inside you. I faked my own death to bring about yours. I brought an assassin into my father’s home. Do you know how I paid for that? By taking certain valuable items that wouldn’t be missed and selling them on the black market. Can you understand how that makes me feel? You’re the only person that can begin to understand what I’ve been through.”
And I knew what she meant. Neither of us could go home again.
Why it came to mind at that moment, as we moved through the winter chill, I can’t say, but it did distract me sufficiently, until we reached the inn.
To describe the White Boar Inn as run down would have been an understatement of tremendous proportion, yet I can barely think of words to describe it more adequately. The wooden walls were rotting, the roof shingles loose, and the entire place was permeated by a sort of gray atmosphere caused by more than just an unimaginative paint job. It was hard to believe Theona and I had stayed here, no matter how briefly.
As soon as it came into view, we moved even faster, anxious to get out of the cold. We needn’t have bothered. It wasn’t much warmer on the inside.
The proprietor, a rather rotund fellow I’d never liked, met us with complete disinterest. We didn’t look as if we had enough for a room and that was all he was interested in.
“I am looking for a friend of mine who’s staying here. He’s a large gentleman, impeccably garbed and carries a large broadsword on his belt. Can you tell me what room he’s in?”
The man barely looked at me. “Don’t know him.”
“I see. Well, it is rather important that I find him. I’m certain he would be unhappy if he found out I was here and was turned away.
“Is that right?”
I looked at Theona. She stepped forward and for once, I made no attempt to silence her.
“Now see here my good man. How are we to know if we are taking a room at the right establishment, if we cannot determine that our friend is in fact here?”
Suddenly, there was a flicker of interest in the fat man’s eyes. “I think I may actually recall the fellow.”
“What room is he in?”
At first, I thought he might not tell us. He looked from Theona to me and back again. “You are taking a room then?”
“If our friend is staying here.”
“Very well, he’s in room three.”
I nodded. “Do you have a vacancy in that same area?”
“As a matter of fact, Sir, I have one right down the hall. If you’ll follow me.”
Removing himself from behind the narrow counter was a major ordeal, but he got through it. I turned to Theona before following him upstairs, but she was already heading toward the door.
“I think I need a spot of fresh air,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
I shrugged and walked behind the proprietor, who moved relatively quickly for a man of his bulk. I had no idea what Theona was up to, and at that moment, really didn’t care. The narrow hallway led to half a dozen rooms that were probably all about equally decrepit. The proprietor stopped, unlocked a door on the left and opened it. I moved forward to look.
“It’s a bit squalid, isn’t it?”
The tinge of red that touched his cheeks was a welcome distraction from the otherwise drab color of the place.
I tried to look thoughtful. “I don’t know. I suppose I will have to wait for my lady to come. I’ll bring the key down in a moment.”
He looked me up and down as if deciding how serious I was. “It runs a copper a night.”
I smiled. “Believe me when I tell you, I have paid ten times that for a night’s stay. I just need to make certain the lady approves. I’ll return the key presently, if she doesn’t.”
The man looked at me one more time. For a second I thought he might recognize me, then he nodded and moved toward the stairs. He glanced at me one last time over his shoulder, shook his head and made his way down. A few minutes later, Theona stepped onto the landing.
“Where have you been?” I asked, not bothering to disguise my annoyance.
She grinned at me. “Stealing the key to room 3, if you must know.”
I looked at her, a bit surprised. This was a side of my lady of which I had been completely unaware. She apparently enjoyed a bit of larceny.
“Well then, we should hurry.”
She nodded and we moved down the corridor until we stood before the appropriate door. She unlocked it and we entered. It looked exactly as it had in my vision. I moved immediately to the chest, but it was, of course, locked. I tried to move it, but it didn’t budge. I circled it, trying to see what held it down.
“It must be magic,” said Theona. “My father had something similar. It could only be moved by a person who knows the key word.”
“Great,” I said, shaking my head. “Just great. And what do we do now?”
I didn’t expect an answer. The chest was made of solid iron. Even if I did have the proper tools, opening it would make enough noise to call attention to my endeavors. And yet, I knew I had to get into it.
Theona pushed past me and knelt before it. I pursed my lips as she pulled a pair of thin leather gloves and a small set of tools from her pouch. I said nothing as she worked on the lock for a minute or so. I bit back an exclamation of surprise when the lock clicked open.
“Where did you learn that?”
“You know. Here and there.”
“I see.” Later, Theona and I would have to chat.
At first I thought she was going to open the chest herself, but she rose gracefully and moved to the side. Knowing Theona, she probably suspected a trap. I moved forward and opened the lid. Theona watched intently.
There were only two items in the chest. The first was a large gold key. The second, an old, leather-bound book. I took the key and placed it in my pouch. I was about to look at the book, when the door swung inward.
“Dendrac, are you awake?”
I rose and turned. Standing in the doorway, and filling it, was the largest man I’d ever seen. He must have been over eight feet tall. His hands were as large as my head and he wore a sword that made Dendrac’s look like a toothpick. His brown hair and eyes were of a color, as was his neatly trimmed beard. Had he been three feet shorter, he’d be almost nondescript, but his voice, deep and resonant as it was, would have still intimidated me.
“Who are you? Where’s Dendrac?”
I looked at Theona, but she would be of no help here. She stared at the intruder, mouth agape.
The giant took a step toward me and I thought furiously. Even with a magic sword, this was one battle I wasn’t going to win.
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Chapter Nine
I am no stranger to tight spots. Those of you familiar with my previous adventures, will no doubt be aware I spend much of my time in over my head. Not to say I enjoy it, but I certainly have learned to cope. This was different. There’s something truly horrible about being cornered by a very large man, whose friend you’ve just killed for no apparent reason. I made certain to keep my hand very far from my sword.
The giant looked at me, then at Theona. Even if I could have made it past him, which would have been quite a trick considering how much of the room he took up, I couldn’t very well leave Theona to face him alone. I thought quickly, took a step forward and frowned.
“It’s about time. You’re very late.”
The giant stared at me.
“Don’t just stand there, Dendrac is waiting.” I gestured toward the door, hoping he would turn before he noticed how badly Theona was trembling.
He regarded me uncertainly. I took his arm and led him from the room. “Now pay attention.”
Fortunately, Theona followed us into the corridor, then down the stairs.
“Listen carefully. I don’t want to have to repeat myself and time is short. Go outside, turn left, go three streets until you come to the Street of the Rotted Calf. Turn left until you hit Broadsword Court and then continue on to the Slaughtered Guard pub. There will be a man there. Tell him Dendrac sent you. He’ll give you instructions. Good luck.”
Before he could ask any questions, I took Theona’s arm and pulled her down the street in the opposite direction. I risked a single glance over my shoulder. The man was staring down at his oversized hands, obviously trying to decide which was the left one. I pulled Theona into a nearby alley. Only then did I allow myself to relax.
I waited until my breathing slowed to a normal rate before once again taking Theona’s arm. She was just beginning to come to herself. “Let’s move. I don’t know how long it’ll take him to realize he’s been had. I intend to be in another part of the world by then.”
She looked at me. “What do you mean?”
“If you think I’m gonna hang around here with that walking oak tree after me, you’re insane. And since we’re on the subject of insanity, what the hell was that back there?”
She blinked innocently. “What in particular would you like to know?”
“You picked that lock like a pro. Would you care to let me know just where and when you acquired that skill? I mean, it doesn’t seem to be the type of thing the daughter of a noble would need to know.”
She considered me, as if she were deciding whether or not I would accept a less than complete explanation. I made certain to keep my expression grim. After a few moments, she dropped her head and spoke.
“I’m a member of the thieves guild.”
I stared at her. “The thieves guild? And when did this come about?”
She shrugged. “Pretty much since we’ve been here.”
“Theona, look at me. Are you trying to tell me that the entire year I’ve been a guard, you’ve been a cutpurse?”