“We don’ know when he’ll come, but we allus know when he do. I’ll get yeh food n then summat cn show yeh to th baths.” She set a tankard of sharp ale on the table and made her way through the throng, handing out more beer as she went.
“Mind if I join you?” A man with a mass of blonde curls and an inviting smile asked, standing across the bench from her.
“Sure. I’m Callindra.” She took a drink of her ale, idly tightening the buckle of her baldric.
“Karath.” He replied, extending a hand, “You here for the trials then?”
“Yeah.” She had no idea what he was talking about, “You too?” She said, grabbing his forearm with a swordsman’s clasp.
“Oh, I’m smarter than that. Last year I came here with delusions of grandeur about the Duke’s Guard but soon discovered it was way too much sitting around and not enough actually doing anything.” He snagged a foaming tankard from a barmaid that passed by. “That’s why I’m a caravan guard. The work is relatively easy, the pay is good enough and you get to see the world.”
Oh, now she knew where she was, Duke Gladthorne’s Holding also known as Thornehold. He held a hiring faire every year, and due to the wide variety of swords for hire that showed up it had come to be called Blademeet. The Duke did generally skim the cream off the top of the pool of warriors, but there were plenty of others who showed up as well. Mercenary companies, wagoner’s, small town militias and even some of the local Lords began coming to fill their needs.
Gods and Demons, she was nearly three hundred leagues from home! How had she gotten here? Glarian apparently had some sway here, the room in which she stayed was his and the inn staff didn’t seem to be upset about someone staying in it.
“I did not mean to throw you off girl, try for the Griffins if you must.” Karath said, taking her silence for rebuke, “Seems to me like a place someone like you just wouldn’t fit in.”
“I’d sooner be in the Wolves.” She said, thinking of the elite raiding party the Duke kept for his most dangerous or discrete work.
“You? In the Wolves?” Karath threw his head back and laughed merrily, “Nay youngling, you’re far too green for them. Besides, the Duke’s men are too serious.”
Callindra bristled and only barely managed to keep her temper in check. Even so a gust of wind swirled her short, tangled hair and tugged at Karath’s cloak.
“I mean to make something of myself, not waste my life sitting on a wagon hoping for a bandit attack to break the monotony.”
“I’ve heard the same before, no harm in trying. If you change your mind, I’m with Raven Company. East side of the Market, you can’t miss the banner.” He tossed a few coins on the table for his ale and wove through the crowd to the door.
Callindra couldn’t help but notice the smoothness of his steps and as her eyes traveled over his slim form was almost shocked to see a heavy axe on his belt. He carried it so naturally she hadn’t even noticed it was there.
A serving girl set a thick clay plate down with a resounding thunk, it had a pair of thick sausages straining against their gut casings and three thick slabs of still warm bread slathered with butter. Realizing how famished she was, Callindra set to with a will. When she had finished, the girl who collected her empty dishes scooped the coin off the table as well.
“What do I owe you?” Callindra asked, realizing she didn’t have any coin.
“This’ll do. Karath done fer yeh.” She replied, “Bathhouse’s through th back, second left an all th way t th end.” She indicated a door with a jerk of her head and swept back through the crowded room.
It took Callindra a moment to understand that the girl meant Karath had paid for her meal. She shrugged uncomfortably, now she was going to have to find Raven Company just to pay him back once she found a way to earn some coin herself. She stood and bit her lip in consternation. The clothes she was wearing were rough and worn, obviously made by someone without proper tools or supplies. Her hair was matted and …
She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was a warrior. Nobody would dare mock her appearance once they saw her skill with a blade. Squaring her shoulders, Callindra made her way to the bath house for a good soak and scrub.
-
When she arrived at the door to the bath house, Callindra folded her garments and placed them on a shelf. When it came to her sword, she hesitated and glanced at the old woman who guarded the door.
“Is this going to be safe? If anything happened to it…” she let her voice trail off.
“No problem dearie, I will hold it behind the counter for you.” The woman said, “I’ll remember you and return it when you leave. Now go and get clean, you don’t want to look like that going outside you know.”
Callindra blushed and handed Brightfang over, “Thank you.”
Picking up a towel she walked into the baths. The steam momentarily obscured her vision, but she made her way to a washing bench. Dipping a bucket of water, she dumped it over her head and rubbed herself down with the heavy bar of rough soap, pouring another bucket on herself to rinse most of the grime off of her body before making her way to the main bath.
There were a few women here; most of them had the soft curves of city born folk who led easy lives. Almost by instinct, Callindra made her way towards the tougher looking women laughing raucously in the deepest, hottest part of the bath.
“An then he says somethin about me havin ta make do with the pommel of my sword an I says it’s more like ta give me pleasure than tha flaccid flesh flap tween his legs!” Said a woman with red hair and deep scars on her arms.
“Aint it th truth though?” Responded a chortling blonde whose beauty was marred by a puckered line that ran across her right eye, “Men jus don understand why we don swoon at their feet when they flaunt that little sword of theirs.”
Callindra was out of her element, but felt more comfortable here than with the shocked, tittering maids on the other side of the room. She tried to hover on the outside of the group, but was soon spotted.
“Hey now, no need to be shy! Here for the trials eh?” Said the blonde.
The redhead smiled, “Looks like ya got strong shoulders. Whas yer fighting style then?”
Callindra responded without thinking, using words Glarian had drilled into her psyche. “I fight one or two handed, single blade.” She took a breath, leaving out the name of her school and master, “My name is Callindra, I am just over a year old.”
“Ahh, I knew ya had a formal Master. No question about the base laid there.” The redhead reached out and grabbed Callindra’s upper arm, “Whoever yer master is, yeh got somethin ya can work with here.”
“Wha yeh lookin for? Merc? Army?” Said the blonde.
“Sorry, who are you?” Callindra asked, forcing herself to stand her ground.
“Bad form, ‘pologies.” The blonde stuck out her hand, “Kris.”
“Fen.” Said the other, “If yer lookin fer merc lemme know. I got leads in a couple companies myself.”
Callindra shook their hands, “I just want to look for a place I can continue to get stronger. I have some ground to make up.”
“Good answer.” Said Kris, “Yer a bit young fer most though. They don like ta let us women fight, let alone girls.”
“Torn tween wantin ta protect us an pay unwelcome court.” Fen said, rolling her eyes.
Callindra’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t intend to allow anyone to take advantage of me, especially a man.” She ducked under the water and came back up, wiping her ragged hair out of her face. “If they underestimate me they will pay a most costly price.”
“I bet they would a tha.” Kris’s eyes twinkled with amusement, “Yeh noble born? Yeh talk like a noble born.”
“I don’t remember my parents. My brothers tried to stuff me into a convent when they went their separate ways and I ran off to work for a Lord’s holding first chance I got.”
“Atta girl!” Fen clapped her hard on the back, “Yeh gotta get a couple more years
though. Build some more muscle.”
“What I lack in strength I make up for in speed.” She said, “Besides, I’m not likely to gain a whole lot more muscle than this, at eighteen I’m probably done growing.”
The other women stared at her in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter, “Eighteen? If yeh wan ta fool folk a least pic a age close ta whas real girl!” Said Kris.
“I’d mark yeh bout fourteen outside.” Said Fen, looking at Callindra’s slim form critically. “Yeh migh pass fer sixteen once yeh fill out a tuch up top.”
Callindra stiffened and folded her arms, “I don’t care what you want to believe. I AM eighteen and I have been training under a true Master for three years. Do YOU think a Master would train an eleven year old girl?” The wind swirled the thick mist away, leaving an open space around her before she could get herself under control.
“Easy Callindra, easy. Yeh say yer eighteen then yer eighteen.” Fen reached behind herself and grabbed a tankard with condensation beading on its pewter surface. Taking a long drink she leaned back against the edge of the pool and sighed in satisfaction. “I been on tha road long nuf all I wanna do is soak an drink. I aint lookin ta scrap wi a youngster.”
“Where have you been?” Callindra asked, curiosity overcoming her anger. “I’ve been almost completely secluded from the outside world for the last few years.”
Fen took another drink and Callindra looked respectfully at the size of her biceps. It wasn’t fair that some women were built like that.
“I been a caravan guard fer six moons, but it’s painful boring. Now I’m lookin fer a place in a company headin North ta check out some trouble r nother. Suppose ta be some action there.”
“I’m jus gettin otta bedrest.” Said Kris, “I took a spear ta th guts an been healin up fer nigh on five moons. Now I’m out lookin fer some mercs what needs experienced infantry.” She stood and showed Callindra a nasty scar that dug through the lower left of her abdomen.
“What about your Company? Didn’t they take care of you when you were injured?” Callindra asked, confused.
“Eh, life aint like it is in th books hon. Commander didn’t like me ta begin wi and moved on afore I was healed up.” Her mouth thinned, “Ended bad fer ‘em too, wen north an ran inta somethin. Somethin took ‘em out ta a man.”
“Ya aint gonna talk me otta goin ya know?” Said Fen, “Thas jus tha kinda fight I wanna get inta. Somethin a girl can sink her spear inta.”
“How bout you Callindra? You lookin fer some action or jus a quiet spell wit a caravan?” Asked Kris.
“I dunno.” She said, picking up some of their speech unconsciously. “I just want to get out there and keep learning. Honestly I wouldn’t mind being in a regular company or force at a keep so I could train with experienced campaigners.”
“Well I could get yeh inta all kinds a trouble but I don think thas what yeh need.” Fen said, raising an eyebrow, “Where’s tha Master yeh trained wi?”
“I don’t know where he is. He wasn’t supposed to teach me; it’s because of me he’s in trouble and now he’s out there somewhere running for his life. I can’t even watch his back.” Callindra said, “I have to get stronger so I can stop being a burden.”
She stood up, steam rising from her skin. “I’d better get going if I’m gonna get around before the day’s out.”
“Good luck Callindra. If yeh need a vouch lemme know. Us girls gotta stick together ya know?”
“Thanks Fen, I appreciate it.”
Callindra looked at her clothes with a skeptical eye. With a sigh, she put them back on despite how dirty and worn they were. On her way out, the old woman handed Brightfang back with a nod.
“That’s quite the blade you have there. I can see why you wanted to take care of it.” She said with a knowing smile, “I haven’t seen work like that in an age.”
“Thanks for watching him for me.” She said, not sure what else to say.
“You watch that blade close you hear? Not many carry something forged by Belach.”
“He is my life.” Callindra said, “How do you know about Belach? Is he famous?”
“Infamous is more like it. He used to make swords for nobles and kings, but fell from favor after he refused to add unnecessary embellishments to weapons.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head, “Nobody says no to the royal court, he should have known that.”
“How do you know so much about it?” Callindra asked, and then winced, “No offense intended of course, I’m letting my tongue get the better of my discretion.”
The woman gave her a thoughtful look, then seemed to decide she hadn’t meant to be rude. “You would do well to remember that no one is born old youngling. I was a merc for years before I retired here. Nasty wound to my back laid me up for a couple years and when all was healed I decided I’d had enough fighting.”
“What are mercenary companies like? Are they as rough as…” she glanced toward the soaking pool, “As some seem to think they are?”
“Depends on which company you end up with. Most are, young girl like you needs to be careful around here.”
“I can take care of myself.” Said Callindra with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Since you own that sword I believe it, but they don’t always fight fair. In fact they almost never do. Besides, what recourse do you really have when you are out on campaign? You just watch yourself youngster, learn from the mistakes of your elders.”
“Thank you. My name’s Callindra by the way.”
“Meghan. Most call me Meg.”
“Thanks Meghan.” Callindra grasped the woman’s forearm and was pleased to see her eyes widen at the sign of respect. “I’m sure I’ll see you once or twice more before I sign on somewhere.”
Chapter 12
She walked out the front door of the inn, noting the sign read “Empty Keg” before strolling towards the market place. Even this early the sounds of hawkers crying their wares filled the air as many folk looking similar to her were making their way in the same direction. Callindra realized that she was likely the youngest looking person here, although she was willing to bet some of the boys were younger in spite of being nearly twice her size.
“Watch it you!” A man yelled, bumping into her, “Show some respect for your elders!”
“Please accept my apologies grandfather.” Callindra replied with a sardonic grin, “I was careless.” He was hardly old enough to be her father, and his face reddened with anger at her slight.
In a twinkling, he had a dagger drawn. “I should teach a little chit like you some respect perhaps?” Two more men emerged from an alley, leading Callindra to suspect this wasn’t the first time they’d run this little game.
“Yeh gotta pay fer disrespec lil un. Fee’s six gold.” Said the first.
“Ifn yeh aint got it then we’ll just take tha sword.” The second said.
Callindra swept Brightfang from his sheath in a blur of shining steel, knocking the dagger aside with ease. Compared to sparring with Glarian this was going to be nothing.
“Three on one does not seem like fair odds!” A voice with rich timbre sounded behind her. Callindra half turned and saw a wall of polished steel chainmaile that reflected the morning sunlight and a shield that seemed unnaturally bright. The man’s face was almost beautiful, his rich blue surcoat had no sigil but she was pretty sure he was in a knightly order.
“I don’t need your help Sir Knight; this scum will likely run before their blood fills the gutter.” The men looked slightly nervous.
“Alas I am not a knight; however there is perhaps some assistance I can render if necessary.” He drew a huge hammer from where it rested in a reinforced loop on his belt, then dropped it to the ground with a thud that she swore she could feel reverberate through her feet. “I must warn you that I will not allow anyone to be killed. From the look of things I may be forced to restrain you young lady.”
“Alas I am no lady, and if you attempt to restrain me I am not responsibl
e for the injuries you will sustain.” Callindra said.
“Your voice could raise frost on this shield I believe.” The man said, “Our conversation seems to have deprived you of entertainment however.”
Callindra saw that her would-be assailants had melted back into the crowd, some of whom were still watching in hopes that there would be a fight. She sheathed her sword and extended her hand.
“I’m Callindra Sol’Estin.” It was customary for an apprentice to assume the surname of her Master once out in the world and she had decided that she was taking it even if Glarian wasn’t here to give his approval.
“Tryst Te’Chern.” He grasped her hand firmly, “You really should watch yourself in this city Callindra. There are many who would try to take advantage of you.”
“Yes, they may try, and if they have the brains of a dung beetle they may live to run away. I won’t be here for long and by the time I’m leaving I’m sure my company will take care of me. Thanks for your concern though Tryst.” Callindra turned to go.
“Wait, if you are looking for employment in a mercenary company perhaps I can be of assistance. I have been asked by the leader of my Temple to find worthy associates for an important task. Mayhap the Gods have had a hand in our meeting?” He said, carefully restoring his hammer to the loop on his belt.
“I don’t think so Tryst. I haven’t seen anything that would lead me to believe in Gods. I live by the edge of my sword, the worth of my training and the strength of my body.”
“Is that so? How then did you come to this place? Your garb suggests a slightly more… wild upbringing.” He quirked an eyebrow, an expression that would have made most men look silly but simply made his face seem even more innocent and attractive. “Of course I mean no offence.”
“I’m not sure, but I expect my Master had a hand in it and if that old man is a God then I’m afraid you’d be disappointed in your faith.” Callindra replied, “If I can’t find a company here that fits my needs where can I find you?”
“Leave me a message at the Temple to Harn and I will get it.” Tryst said, “There is something about you that leads me to believe you will join me Callindra. I sense in you the strength and daring needed for a task this dangerous.”
The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest Page 9
