by Paul Kidd
“Cinders? Sniff.”
The dog’s nose swung to all points of the compass, snufflinghappily at the richly scented air.
Smell fire! Smell food! Good meat! Hot coals!
“And?”
Smelly socks, pine cones, beer, old leather, new leather,girls, dry bones, warm rugs! The hell hound pricked his ears. Beer! Meat! Coals!
Raising one brow, the Justicar cocked an eye back toward the hell hound. “We are supposed to be locating a magician’s supply shop.”
Escalla stirred, eagerly sniffing the scent of roasting meat from a tavern door nearby. “It’s almost evening. Let’s eat.”
“We have work to do. We have to find your black and whitespy.”
“So where better to ask than a tavern?” The faerie’s wingswhirred. “Come on! We’ve been living on your damned camp cooking for days. Eat!Eat!”
The Justicar stood his ground. “What’s wrong with mycooking?”
Escalla cleared her throat and leaned conspiratorially closer. “All right-real meals? Real meals don’t look up at youfrom the plate and offer to negotiate….” The invisible girl slapped him onone shoulder. “I’m kidding! Now, come on! There might be cake or something.”
Trigol’s taverns were mostly two-storied, wide, andovercrowded. Stomping in through the doors, the Justicar ducked beneath the low ceiling made by a surrounding gallery and walked down into a gigantic sunken taproom. He wondered briefly how the place could be kept clean, then noticed a sink hole and a sewer grate large enough for a man to wriggle through at the center of the stone-flagged floor.
All in all, the place looked as though it had once had another function-such as a public bath, an opera house, or a cattle barn. Theroof arched in a dome high overhead, while sleeping rooms ringed a balcony that rimmed the circular central hall. Tall enough to look over the heads of most of the patrons, the Justicar found himself a sheltered table, planted his backpack beneath his feet, and raised a hand to summon a short, sweating little man who obsessively wiped his hands upon a spotty apron.
The innkeeper was almost completely bald, sporting only a few juts of orange hair, which made him look as though he had been colonized by shelf fungi. He seemed rather over endowed with enthusiasm.
“Sir, sir, sir! Welcome to you, sir. Welcome to you. Welcometo you, sir!”
Leaning forward into the blast of verbiage, the Justicar thumped his elbows onto the table. “I need a place to stay. Is there room herefor the night?”
“Of course there is! Of course there is, course there is,course there is!” The innkeeper finished wiping his hands and began all overagain. “Plenty of room! Big floors, lots of space! Lots of space on the floor!One common copper, plus one for breakfast! Barley porridge! Very nutritious! Nutritious!”
Drumming his fingers on the table, the ranger gave a sigh. “Are there any rooms?”
“Rooms? Rooms? Of course there are!”
“Can I have one?”
“No, of course not! They’re all taken!” The innkeeper beganto briskly polish the table, chair backs, and oil lamp. “Refugees in town.Winter merchants coming in. We’re full, we’re full, we’re full, we’re full!” Theman flicked out his polishing rag with a crack like a whip. A little squeak of outrage showed that he had just managed to hit Escalla’s invisible rear. Keen onhis own voice, the innkeeper seemed not to hear. “There’s only the royal suites,that’s all. Just that, just that, just that!”
Drumming his fingers in impatience, the Justicar growled. “How much are those?”
“Ten nobles each, but that’s because they’re royal!”
A little voice whispered in the Justicar’s ear. “Ask him ifit has a bath!”
“Shhh!” The Justicar rummaged for small change inside hisbadger-skin sporran. “Floor space, then. And bring me a large mulled ale, somemulled ale in an egg cup, and some of that roast beef.”
And coal!
“Yes.” The ranger patted Cinders’ fur. “And a piece ofcoal.”
“Fine sir! Fine, fine, fine!” The innkeeper proffered hishand. “Two coppers for bed and breakfast, and one noble for the meal.”
The Justicar’s mind boggled.
“One gold piece!”
“One sir! Just one, just one, just one!” The innkeeper wavedhis hands in an attempt to fan out the flames of his customer’s outrage.“Supplies are at a premium, sir! The city’s overcrowded, and the fields are allchoked with weeds! Food, sir! It’s almost priceless!”
Angrily paying for his meal, the ranger passed over the coins and watched the innkeeper thread his way off between a heavy crowd of minstrels, townsfolk, and gamblers.
“There had better be bread with this.” The man sniffed thetorturous smell of fine roast beef and felt his stomach growl. “Escalla, do youneed me to make you a seat?”
There was no answer. From his comfortable den inside the backpack, Cinders waved his tail.
Girlie go bye-bye!
“Great. Maybe she’s doing her job.” The Justicar settledhimself more comfortably in his chair. “She’ll be back for her meal.”
At a far part of the tavern, a suave gambler dressed in blackheld sway over a large game of cards. With almost a dozen players, the pot grew to huge proportions-and weirdly enough, the profits rarely seemed to fall intothe gambler’s hands. The fact that the major winners were all assistants to thegambler seemed quite beyond the mental capacity of the other players to grasp. The constant chink and hiss of money cascading into happy hands served as a magnet to draw victim after victim over to the game.
Watching unhappily from one corner, a scraggly youth stared at the fall of money with a wistful, hungry eye. He seemed ill fed and unhappy and thus could scarcely believe it when three gold pieces fell into his lap from the empty sky. The boy looked about as though expecting someone to demand the money back-then blinked as a little voice whispered in his ear.
“Hey, kid! Psssst! Hey! Over here!”
A rather sleek and perky ginger cat sat in the shadows of his chair. The boy blinked then leaned a little closer as the cat jerked her head and beckoned him near.
“Hey, kid! I’m your magic wishing cat! Make a wish and we’llsee it come true!”
“Ummm…” The boy blinked. “I wish for true love!”
The cat’s ears flattened. “Fine, you’re now destined to meetMiss Right. Now is there anything maybe on a smaller scale we might try?”
“Um, I could use some money.”
“An excellent choice! You’re a gem, kid, no matter what theneighbors say. Now pay attention, kid, and we’ll get some cash into your hands.”
The cat had sleek curves and strangely feminine eyes. A little concerned about his sudden turn of good luck, the skinny boy looked the cat carefully up and down.
“Where did you come from, O Magic Wishing Cat?”
“Um, from the beast lands. What’s-her-name, the Queen of theCats, sent me.”
“Why?”
The cat gave him an irritated glare. “Because you’re such alegendary good pal to cats.”
“Really?”
The cat cocked an eye. “Did you ever just pat a cat for noreason other than the fact that it rubbed around your legs?”
“Um, yeah.”
The cat gave a shrug. “So it’s payback time. Now payattention, kid.”
The boy immediately tried to pat the cat and had his hand swatted for his pains.
“No one touches the magic wishing cat. All right?”
“All right.”
“Right!” The cat curled its tail about its paws. “Now I, themagic wishing cat, will help you win a great fortune at cards tonight, but to show your gratitude, you must be willing to give half of your gains to my nominated agent so that he may redistribute the money to the needy.”
The youth gave a shrug. “All right.”
“Good. So go play cards and listen for my voice whispering inyour ear!” The cat suddenly turned invisible, and the air seemed to hum with thebeat of little wings. “
Play what I tell you to play, use the three gold piecesfor your stake, and we’ll have you rolling in dough in no time!” Wings passedlow over the boy’s head with a little whirr. “Kid, the cards are gonna burn hottonight!”
The Justicar’s dinner took half an hour to arrive, and it arrived withoutbread. A giant bowl of pickled cabbage with chopped onions accompanied the hot roast beef, as well as a bowl of beans. If everyone else was eating the same fare, then the common room would be no place for open flame once everyone went to bed. With no sign of Escalla, the Justicar shrugged and simply dug into his meal, making sure he kept aside one of the good, crackly end-pieces of the roast for the missing girl.
He listened carefully to conversations. He questioned a pair of long-bearded burghers for the location of sorcerers’ supply shops and madecarefully innocent inquiries of the waitresses. The Justicar bought drinks for three city guards and scanned their talk for anything that might have been a clue. With the evening wearing on and no leads gained, the man bought himself another drink, borrowed a stable brush from the landlord, and flopped Cinders out over his knee to brush the hell hound’s fur. The sentient pelt growledhappily inside his friend’s mind, basking in the warmth of the open fire andseeming utterly content.
Into this strange domestic scene, a thin youth appeared. Flushed with excitement, the boy staggered under the weight of two large bags of coin. He thumped one bag onto the table, seemingly exhausted by the weight.
“Hey, mister! The magic wishing cat told me to give you thismoney to distribute to the poor and needy.”
Slowly putting down his ale, the Justicar suspiciously drummed his fingers on the tabletop.
“Magic wishing cat?”
“She was sent by Queen What’s-her-name, the cat lady!” Theyouth breathed out a sigh. “So there you are! Now I’m off home!”
“Wait.” The warrior eyed the heavy bag of coins. “How didthe wishing cat get all this coin?”
“She helped me win it at cards. She magically let me knowwhat cards to play.”
“Oh, really?”
The fleeced gamblers were having an angry meeting in one corner of the room. Since they were thieves themselves, the Justicar felt a sour stab of satisfaction at seeing them so suddenly impoverished. “Son, you reallyought to celebrate. Go order yourself one of the royal suites.”
“Um, all right.” The boy blinked. “If you think it’s best.”
“It’s best. And when you take that money home tomorrow, makesure you travel with good friends.”
The boy walked away, leaving the Justicar alone. He reclined with Cinders in his lap and put his hands behind his head.
“You really like this ‘stealing from thieves’ thing, eh?”
A piece of lukewarm roast beef hovered in midair, disappearing bit by bit as Escalla stuffed her invisible self with meat.
The faerie spoke with her mouth full, licking invisible fingertips. “Hey, it’s natural justice!”
“Hmm.” The Justicar leaned his head on his hand. “And doinggood actually feels good, doesn’t it?”
“You betcha!”
“Thought so. Let’s see just how much good we can spreadaround.” The Justicar summoned the innkeeper over to his side.
“Landlord, how many refugees do you think there aresheltering in the nearest streets?”
The little man with the shelf fungus hair rapidly blinked his eyes in thought.
“Oh a few! A few, a few, a few! No money on them, you see.Never come in here!” The landlord wiped his hands as though contaminated by thewhole idea. “Must be a couple dozen of them.”
“Is there room for them in the common room?”
“Of course there is! Of course there is!” The landlord spreadhis hands. “But it costs two copper pieces. Bed and breakfast, barley porridge,and a warm fire!”
“Good.” The Justicar began to count out large gleaming pilesof gold. “Floor space accommodation for twenty of them. Roast beef for all ofthem. Pre-paid for… oh, let’s see…” Ignoring agonized flutters abouthis head, the ranger counted up the piles of coin. “Three days. That gives themtime to buy that old barn out the back with the rest of the cash and turn it into a proper waterproof home.”
A wail of pain came from the empty air. Counting over a second pile of money, the Justicar shot an impatient glance toward the noise.
“And I’ll have one of the royal suites please, with a hotbath.” The man sniffed himself. “Make it three baths, with soap and towels.”
The innkeeper left. Escalla grumbled. Taking his ale back up, the Justicar looked straight at the invisible girl. He was learning the knack of finding her. She had a particular smell reminiscent of marked cards and forest flowers.
“One night only, then we switch to a normal room.”
“All right, all right!” Escalla sat on the immensely shrunkenbag of coins and went into a huff. “I’m good already! See, generous deedsaplenty, and they’re all done simply for that warm, special glow it gives meinside.” Escalla swiped a dozen coins to hide them in reserve.
Warm room! With coals! Cinders wagged his sooty tail.Eat eat!
Escalla made a confused little noise. “Coals?”
“He likes the taste.” The Justicar grabbed his equipment androse. “And I also think it’s time you-know-who had a B-A-T-H.” The man rolled hiseyes. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried giving one to a hell hound.”
Settling his huge sword, the man stalked over to the door. “I’ll be back with twenty refugees. You can have first bath while I’m away.”
“Hoopy!” The faerie whirred her wings and climbed up into theair. “See you!”
Out in the streets, the nighttime chill had raised aclinging, gloomy fog. The Franz River echoed with the sound of voices as showboats came nosing slowly to the docks. With street performers finishing up their acts for the night, the alleys were swiftly emptying.
Working quietly and methodically, the Justicar found refugee families and sent them running to the inn. He cleared the alleyways one by one, until finally there was but a single hovel left. He put his head into the dismal little shelter, only to have a disheveled figure erupt and shake him by the hand.
“Son! It’s you, son! They thought you’d drowned, but I saidthey can never keep a good man down!”
Polk the teamster slapped the Justicar on the shoulder in pontificating glee.
“So you survived the wreck of the Saucy Gannet? That’sgrand, son, just grand. We floated on the wreckage here to town. It’s hard luck,but you can’t stop a teamster who has faith in adventure!”
The Justicar turned the man about, pointed him at the inn, and gave him a shove. “Just get inside, eat a meal, and go to sleep. It’s paidfor three days.”
“I will! I will! And much obliged. You don’t have to tell mehow much you owe me, son!”
Polk went on his way, leaving the Justicar muttering behind him. With a last look down the street, the ranger turned to head back into the warmth-then noticed a man wheeling a puppet booth past him down the street.
The puppets hung by their strings from the stage, and amongst them was a little gold-robed wizard with a face painted black and white.
The Justicar immediately walked over, stopped the puppeteer, and pointed to the puppet. “What’s this?”
“What is it?” The puppeteer blinked, only to find newenthusiasm when a coin was placed in his hand. “Why it’s the puppet show ofmysteries! The greatest heroes and the darkest villains! The wildest monsters ever to stalk the Flanaess!”
“The black and white puppet. What is it called?”
“Keraptis!” The puppeteer rattled his manikin, and thegrotesque little figure waved a magic wand. “The sorcerer at the edge of night!The Overman, inhuman, superhuman, evil incarnate!”
The Justicar squatted down and touched the wooden puppet with a fingertip. “Is he based on a real figure?”
“Just so, my friend! The sages will tell you so. Keraptisbelieved that he was a new stage in the evolutio
n of man and therefore was above puerile concepts like good, evil, mercy, and justice. He even changed the structure of his body so that he wouldn’t feel related to his fellow men.” Thepuppeteer nimbly made the puppet bow. “Why do you ask?”
The Justicar stood, laying one hand upon the hilt of his sword. “Where would I find this Keraptis?”
“Where?” The puppeteer seemed astounded. “At the bottommostlayer of the Abyss, my friend-and good riddance!”
The warrior tilted his head, not quite understanding.
The puppeteer frowned and began putting his puppet away. “Keraptis is dead, my friend! You’re too late. He’s been dead for thirteenhundred years.”
7
“Up!”
A stiff finger nudged Escalla in the ribs. Bathed, warm, and with a whole double bed all to herself, the faerie rolled over beneath the blankets and made a plaintive little whine of sheer pleasure.
The Justicar jerked Escalla’s blankets free, exposing her tothe cold night air. With a moan of irritation, the girl forced herself awake. She sat blearily up, clutching sheets against herself to preserve a fragile dignity.
It was still pitch black. Unimpressed and decidedly not an early riser, the faerie growled.
“All right, Steely Thews! There had better be a damned goodreason for getting your face in the way of my beauty sleep!”
Already strapped into his armor, the Justicar was silently unsheathing his sword. His voice whispered in the gloom cast by the coals glowing in the firegrate. “Cinders can hear something. It’s time for tonight’slittle visit.”
The faerie let her sheets slip in amazement. “Visit?”
“No professional gamblers are going to let a rube get awaywith fleecing them. Gamblers usually have contacts with someone in the local thieves’ guild.” The Justicar had stuffed his bedding with pillows until itlooked like a sleeping man. “Right about now, some midnight visitors are goingto come calling on your gambling friend.”
