Bargain

by Riley S. Keene

  “How noble,” the woman said, punctuating the statement with a roll of her eyes. Merylle ran a finger along the hilt of one of her weapons. The motion hadn’t been dangerous but it still drew Elise’s eyes to the woman’s hip. Merylle chuckled low in her throat and Elise felt her cheeks grow hot. She returned to watching the Overseer’s face, trying to ignore the sway this woman held over her. “But no matter how many innocents you slaughter along the length of your quest, you would eventually tire. How many would it take? A hundred? A thousand? At some point you will reach your physical limits. You will die.”

  “You would be surprised,” Elise said, stepping forward again. The Overseer’s gaze was drawn to the sway of Elise’s hip this time. Elise grinned wide. “I have quite the stamina, Merylle. Do not test me.”

  “You think you can take me on, Conscript?” The word was less volatile on the Overseer’s lips this time, but it was still said like an insult. Merylle didn’t move in response to Elise’s step forward. But Elise watched as the Overseer’s eyes roamed her body. Merylle lingered along the mace and shield, but she also swept along the coiled muscles of Elise’s arms, the chainmail fitted to her chest, and her wide stance. “Then by all means, come at me. I’d love to see what you’ve got.”

  Elise examined Merylle in turn, and was somewhat chagrined to see that despite being a member of a guild of thieves, the woman had visible muscles. At closer look, Elise could see vambraces and pauldrons under Merylle’s flowing black shirt. The Overseer had long hair, in a natural, thick curl, an odd choice for a thief. It had been years since Elise had considered long hair a display of an untrained fighter—Ermolt had seen to that. Perhaps it was a show of confidence, then. Her stance seemed passive, but there was a thread of promised violence in her posture that Elise felt more than saw.

  Examining the woman made her angrier somehow. She was a kidnapper who was playing chicken with the lives of innocent people. What right did she have to such a pretty face when her words were so ugly?

  “Elise,” Ermolt said slowly drawing out her name as to not spook her. “You know I hate to interrupt anyone when they are about to kill someone, but I think we should talk to her.”

  “Why?” Elise said, not taking her eyes off Merylle. Was it the coiled threat of attack or something else? “Considering I don’t hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the stairs, she hasn’t given this unbelievable order for innocent children to charge to their deaths by our hands. We could take her down before she gets to the stairs. Topple the Overseers and walk away free. We have no reason to surrender.”

  “Trust me,” Ermolt said. “Please. There’s more to this situation than you’re aware of. I said this to her, at the bar, and I’ll say it again to you. We don’t have to be enemies if we choose not to be. I think we can be useful to one another.”

  Merylle’s eyes flicked over to Ermolt, and Elise felt a flash of desire to strike. The momentary opportunity was more than long enough to put her mace halfway to the woman’s face before she could react.

  But what if Ermolt was right? It would be nice to have some help against the Temple.

  “Alright,” Elise said, lowering her weapon. “We’ll talk. But I promise nothing more than that.”

  “And here I thought we were about to become the best of friends,” Merylle said with a smirk. The Overseer ran a hand through her hair and while the curls seemed just as soft as Elise suspected, there was a slight tremor to the woman’s hand. She’d been nervous, despite her bravado. Elise arched an eyebrow, admiring the woman’s skilled bluff.

  Merylle seemed to ignore Elise and instead stepped back to the stairs. She didn’t completely turn her back to the group of them, but it was enough to show she trusted her Guard Captain to warn her if an attack came. “My office is upstairs. Come, new friends. Please, let me show you some Jalovan hospitality.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Merylle’s office was up the stairs that Athala had seen earlier off the main room. The Overseer led them down a narrow hallway that would make the room at the end of it defensible in the event of an attack. There were few trappings in the hall—no tapestries or paintings, but there was a weapon rack outside of the door that was currently empty.

  The woman paused at this rack and invited Elise to rest her mace and shield on it. At first it looked as if the Conscript would refuse, but Merylle removed her own weapons and deposited them into the empty brackets at the top of the rack. Elise hesitated for a moment before she followed suit, securing her mace along a vertical bracket towards the bottom. She unbuckled her shield from her arm and leaned it up against the wall.

  Merylle had turned to Athala and Ermolt next, but neither of them actually had weapons on them. While binding their hands would possibly be effective, it would lose the element of trust that Merylle was trying so hard to build.

  With a quip and a sigh, the Overseer welcomed them into her office.

  At first glance, the room looked simple, or even sparse, but as Athala cast a more critical eye over it, she saw it was elegantly minimalist. It reminded her of her father’s office before her brother had taken it over.

  Tapestries were spaced widely around the room. They sported simple designs and were well-kept and made from very fine materials. The furniture was relatively sparse, but was well-made and artfully placed. There was a design to the layout of the room that sang highly of Merylle’s understanding of emotional energy and natural movement of air. Athala was also surprised to see it was spotless. She’d always assumed thieves were a messy sort.

  In the center of the room, there was a long table that looked to be a cousin of the one they’d left in Khule. It was short to the ground with sturdy legs. The top of the table was finely made from a dark wood, stained to bring out the beauty in the wood’s grain. There were a series of plush cushions arranged around the table, each one an elegant piece that complimented the minimalist decor of the room well.

  Merylle gestured for them to sit as she drew her Guard Captain to the far side of the room. They began to speak quietly to one another, the acoustics of the room ruining Athala’s ability to follow the conversation. And even though their faces were in profile to her, Athala couldn’t read their lips either. They were careful to give little away.

  With a huff Athala looked to Elise for direction, but the Conscript was hopelessly making googly eyes at the leader of the Overseers. Was she not aware that she looked like a lovesick teenager?

  Athala instead turned her attention to Ermolt. The barbarian was arranging himself at the table as comfortably as he could. She knew he disliked the low dining tables of the southern lands, but they were really quite comfortable for anyone under seven fen tall.

  Ermolt noticed her watching him and flashed a comforting smile her way. He arched his chin towards Elise and Athala nodded in response. She took two steps forward and gently tugged on the Conscript’s tunic hem.

  Elise turned sharply, glaring at Athala. Her expression softened almost immediately and Athala smiled warmly up at her friend. “Come. Let’s not be rude,” Athala said in an even tone, leading the Conscript to the table.

  “You’re right. Sorry. I was, er, distracted.”

  A quip rose to her lips but Athala suppressed it. While the acoustics of the room hampered their ability to hear the distant conversation, there was no guarantee the same could be said of their whispered words. Athala would just need to tease Elise about her infatuation later.

  Athala lowered herself to her knees next to Ermolt. The cushion was even finer than Athala had expected. It barely shifted as she sat, but was still soft enough to be cozy. Elise took a seat on Athala’s left, swinging her legs under the short table instead of balancing on her shins like Athala did. She shifted twice as she tried to get her armor in a comfortable position.

  The door across the room from them opened and two men entered the room. Merylle and her captain barely seemed to acknowledge them. One man carried a large tray with bulging arms while the other carried a handful of thick-w
oven placemats.

  Without speaking, the men arranged their bounty along the table. The one laid out his placemats while the other stood nearby. As soon as the cloth mats were in place he started ferrying items from the other man’s tray. A steaming tea kettle was placed on one of the placemats and empty cups were placed before them. A frosted mug of dark ale was put on the other side of the table where Merylle would eventually presumably sit. Next came a few small bowls of crackers, some of them of dark wheat, and others more colorfully made from other vegetables. Athala felt her mouth water, but didn’t want to be the first to reach for them.

  “Thank you,” Athala said reflexively, and the smaller man flinched. Athala winced. She thought of the man she set to flame, and wondered why the Overseers hadn’t insisted Merylle gag her while they negotiated.

  The larger man put a firm hand to the smaller one’s shoulder and lead him from the room. The Guard Captain went with them. Merylle watched the three of them exit the room before she sauntered over to the table.

  Athala could see why Elise was enamored with the Overseer. The woman promised danger and fun with every smile and sway of her hip. Merylle wasn’t Athala’s type, but she still felt an attraction the same way an unsuspecting person might feel drawn to a deadly predator. Athala would really need to talk to Elise alone about this.

  “Ermolt, was it?” Merylle said at last, once she had settled herself at the table. “I would like to extend my thanks to you on behalf of Hartmut. He tells me you showed him the vulnerabilities our fighters have, giving him the opportunity to improve our combat readiness.” She reached out for her mug but paused before she took a drink. “We have less use for combat than you might expect, especially any combat that might be considered a fair fight. But thanks all the same.”

  “I understand why you fight as you do,” Ermolt said. He reached for the tea kettle and carefully pouring cups for Athala and Elise before serving himself. The four of them lifted their respective drinks in a silent toast before taking a sip.

  Athala found the tea hot but delightful. There was a nutty flavor to it that Athala wasn’t familiar with. After she swallowed the concoction, Athala wondered for a moment if it could have been poisoned, but dismissed the thought.

  Merylle needed them for something, or else she wouldn’t have drawn them to her office without her weapons.

  With the formalities out of the way, Ermolt continued. “But being able to fight effectively when you don’t get the drop on your foe would serve you well in defending yourselves, especially against the Temple.”

  “Yes,” Merylle said with a sarcastic tone. “Speaking of defending ourselves...” Merylle shifted her attention to Athala and Elise, and Athala felt a chill run up her spine. “Thank you for showing me the weaknesses in our defenses. I have Hartmut revising our guard rotations.” She lifted her mug as though to drink, but only lifted it far enough to hide her mouth. The furrow in her brow revealed her scowl despite the effort. “As well as less flammable varieties of armor.”

  “I’m sorry,” Athala mumbled as her cheeks flushed. She tried to force the memory of the smell of burning flesh from her mind.

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” Elise said defensively before Athala could say anything else. “Taking a prisoner without expecting reprisals is as foolish as it gets.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Merylle. “If you didn’t want to put your men to the test, you shouldn’t have picked a fight with us—or with anyone, for that matter.”

  “Perhaps,” Merylle said. Athala could feel the irritation radiating off of the Overseer, but she kept it in check very well. It was a quality Athala recognized as valuable for a leader. “But when people come into my territory and ask questions about my enemies...” She hesitated and took a long sip of her ale. “And then when they make it so easy to find their friends... well, it was too good of an opportunity to not track one down to ask some important questions.”

  Elise blinked blankly at Merylle for a moment. “What are you saying?”

  “Is your memory that poor, or did you think you were truly that sneaky?” Merylle chuckled, her irritation falling away to superiority once more. “You walked into my District, talked to one of my informants, and told them everything I needed to know to find you.”

  Athala watched as Elise’s jaw started to twitch back and forth. She was grinding her teeth again and Athala didn’t blame her. It wasn’t Ermolt’s actions that led to his capture, it was Elise. Athala could almost hear Elise screaming at herself in her own head with every twitch of her mouth. Was it possible that Elise would feel the need to apologize to Ermolt for her earlier comments, or if him not having been present for any of it absolved her of guilt.

  “Naturally,” Merylle continued, “I would have rather captured the wizard.” Athala felt the color drain from her face. The Overseer took a long sip of ale as if letting Athala be aware of this information for as long as possible. “But she was probably the smartest out of any of you.” Merylle smiled sweetly at Athala. “It would have been a challenge to secret you out of the place, and you did a fine job of being memorable in case we did. We could have taken you, but an assault on the Hall of Records would have been a blow to public perception that we might not be able to suffer at this point.”

  Athala felt panic stabbing at her as the Overseer spoke casually about abducting her. The whole time she had been studying, she hadn’t considered the idea that she could have been in danger. She experienced a sense of vertigo as she felt anxiety for her own self in the past.

  A long moment passed where Elise only ground her teeth. On her other side, Ermolt had gone still as a statue himself. She imagined he was trying to figure out how to get them out of the fortress if things escalated further. Merylle only sipped at her ale, seeming to delight in having thrown all three of them off their guard at the same time.

  Merylle broke the silence. “So you escaped Auernheim then?”

  Elise frowned. “I don’t wish to discuss that.”

  “Oh, no, of course not. It must have been tragic.” The Overseer swirled the ale in her cup. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find the truth elsewhere anyway.”

  Athala didn’t like the grin the Overseer flashed. She acted like she was in command, but a question went unanswered by Merylle’s superior bravado.

  What were they doing here?

  If Merylle wanted to do harm to them, she would have come down into the dungeon with the rest of her guards behind her and attacked them immediately. If she wanted them captured, then why were they in her office instead of the dungeon? If she wanted information from them, why was she asking no questions?

  “You can’t hold us here, and you know it,” Athala said in a quiet voice. Merylle stilled. “So we aren’t prisoners here at all. You’ve brought us to your inner sanctum with no guards. You didn’t even take Elise’s weapon, but only asked her to leave it outside.” Athala swallowed her fear and leaned forward, studying Merylle’s face. “You want something from us.”

  It was the Overseer’s turn to hesitate. She lowered her mug to the table slowly. “Perceptive.” The word lingered for a moment before she spoke again. “It’s obvious you three have plans for the Temple.” Merylle leaned her elbows on the table and leaned forward as well, steepling her fingers. “I’m not sure exactly what. But it has to be some manner of attack or sabotage against them.” She leaned forward more, looking at each of them in turn. “I don’t care why. I want in.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elise rolled her eyes. Of course Merylle wanted the Overseers along for their ride. In a way, it made total sense. The skirmishes against the Temple were likely predictable and unproductive, and a new avenue of attack would be a learning experience. Just something to shake things up.

  “Why?” Ermolt asked, his tone perplexed. “Weren’t you a member of the Temple?” Elise looked sharply at Ermolt as he spoke, trying not to look too confused. Where had he learned that?

  “And yet I am no longer,” Merylle said wit
h a haughty click of her tongue. Elise looked back to the Overseer. Was this something Ermolt had learned during his escapades around the town, or something he found while sparring the Overseers?

  “But shouldn't your hostility should be aimed at the High Priest?” Ermolt leaned forward. “Why would you want to hurt the Temple itself? Unless your aim is something more than just a new avenue of revenge...”

  “Enough!” Merylle snapped. “You know rumors, not facts. No random Conscript in a fly-blown tavern is going to know all there is about my past, no matter how many drinks you buy them.” She narrowed her eyes in his direction. “And so your assumptions are nowhere near accurate. I am thankful that your friends are even more confused than you are. If nothing else at least my informants and the Hall of Records have proven to be less of a rumormonger than my old companions.” She sighed and ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her mug. “If we are to work together, perhaps I need to tell you the truth of the matter. It would do us well to all be on the same foot.”

  “Please,” Elise said, trying to hide the relief in her voice. “And do not spare the details since a few of us are so very uneducated in these matters.”

  The Overseer nodded and lowered her eyes. “Very well. It isn’t a long story, but I hope you will forgive me if I skim over the details anyway.” A sorrowful smile ghosted across her lips. “Although perhaps with a spot of liquor stronger than this watered-down ale, I’d be happy to paint a more detailed scene of misery and depravity.

  “But my tale begins not so long ago, when I was High Priest of Teis.” Merylle paused to drain her ale, giving Elise and Athala enough time to share a very confused look. She’d been the High Priest? Elise had expected that she was a Conscript or maybe even a Cleric. Rarely had Elise heard of a High Priest who left service before death. It was a high honor, and one that wasn’t abandoned.