by Guy Antibes
Lorna pulled on his shirtsleeve as they were led to an empty table on the far side of the room. A barmaid plopped large tankards of ale in front of each of them. Panix slaked his thirst with a sip or two, but he could see Lorna throwing down hers. He could tell something ate at her. She wouldn’t even look at him. She beckoned a barmaid for another, before Panix had gotten halfway done with his first.
It wasn’t long before the drink got to his traveling companion. She swayed to the singing and, for the first time in his life, he looked at Lorna enjoying herself. She handled her drink much differently than Merra.
Generally when he saw Lorna, she glared at him. He was startled when Lorna smiled and winked at him and then joined in with the singing as the ale kept coming. Panix wasn’t quite up to the South Pentish dialect, when sung, so he couldn’t understand a lot of the words, but Lorna belted out the songs along with the rest of them.
The singing stopped as two half-dressed men and three disheveled women staggered into the inn. The patrons gaped as the sodden group made their way to the innkeeper’s counter.
“We’ve been robbed, our carriage destroyed and our driver killed defending us,” one of the men said breathing heavily. “Two and a half leagues southeast of here.” Men jumped out of their chairs and offered them to the victims to rest from their trek, the victims’ clothes, such as they were, dripped from the rain.
“Did you recognize any of them?” Panix heard another say. The South Pentish dialect disappeared.
“No, but they were led by their little blond leader. A vicious group, but I got the impression he kept the most brutish of the men at bay, or perhaps we’d all have been killed. Called themselves Guardians of the State of South Pent or some such nonsense.” The innkeeper gave the book for the man to sign.
“Which way did they go?” Another man called out from the middle of the room.
“They came from nowhere to surround us and did the same when they left—took off in all directions.” Three maids and an older woman came from the back and helped the women up the stairs. The exhausted men followed without answering any more of the questions thrown at them.
Panix turned to Lorna, who had been unmoved by the situation as she had fallen asleep, head down on the table. All he could hear were her sounds of slumber as the room’s mood deflated with the news of the robbers. Panix surmised that the men and women wanted to get home as soon as they could to make sure their families were safe and sound. He sat as a number of the patrons filed out of the inn and thought on the description of events. The same group that had been destabilizing the countryside had perpetrated the attack, right down to the dashing blond man who, now it seems, managed to reduce the sting of the depredations of his fellow marauders.
The innkeeper sat down at Panix’s table, bringing a couple of plates of stew and bread. The portly man, dressed with a soiled white tunic over dark pants and sporting a towel thrown over his shoulder and appeared to enjoy his work. He grinned at the snoring Lorna. “Sorry this is late with the commotion and all. Your woman there doesn’t hold her liquor too well, does she?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never imbibed in her presence before. But I do think something is bothering her,” Panix said as he broke some bread and dipped it into the stew.
“That’s funny for a husband and wife.” The innkeeper dipped a bit of bread into Lorna’s plate and popped it in his mouth.
Panix blanched at the thought of being married to the shrewish Lorna Baltac. “Is that how she registered us? I couldn’t hear a thing earlier.”
The innkeeper nodded his head waiting for an explanation.
“We are here on the Marquessa’s business. I’m unaware of the need to keep it a secret, but it won’t hurt to be discreet, so I’ll tell you we’ll be poking around in South Pent to see what’s going on. Evidently we were in the right place to hear about the latest attacks. Will the victims be spending the night?”
“Only the night. They’ve no money you see. I’ll arrange for the local constable from the village to get them to wherever they need to go.”
Panix pulled out his purse. “Here, will this help?” He laid out five Pent gold sovereigns. “Perhaps some fresh clothes and another night’s stay if needed. We’ll be leaving in the morning and would like to talk to them.”
The innkeeper quickly put the money in a pouch he wore around his middle. “You can be sure of that, sir. Just call for a maid to lead you to your room. Your bags are already there.” The innkeeper rose and began to help the maids clear the mugs, bottles and glasses from empty tables.
Panix shoved his slumbering companion. “Hey, wake up. Your food is here.”
“Huh?” Lorna struggled to raise one eye, and then as she realized her state, she sat up, blinking and holding her eyes wide open, trying to wake up.
“Eat, it will help clear some of your drunken stupor.” Panix laughed as he continued to eat, watching Lorna gather her wits about her. She narrowed her eyes at Panix and focused on eating small bites in silence.
Lorna didn’t get to far and then unsteadily got to her feet. Panix went to help steady her gait, but she shrugged him off with a grunt. He feared that she’d pass out again. He called a maid over. Lorna accepted her help more graciously and the two assisted her up the stairs. Before they reached the top, Lorna had returned to the land of slumber. Panix took her in his arms and let the maid lead them on.
The room had one large bed and a cot with a lumpy straw mattress. Panix put Lorna on the cot and covered her with a blanket. She wouldn’t appreciate the soft bed in her condition. He went back down and finished his meal and then returned to take off his soiled traveling clothes and slipped between the covers of the bed, ready for a good night’s rest.
~
Pale sunlight lit up the grimy window to reveal the slumbering figure on the cot. Panix left the room to talk to the victims, leaving Lorna to wake up on her own.
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary about the men?” Panix said. They sat in a dim corner of the common room. The innkeeper hovered nearby.
“They were dressed in woodsmen’s clothes. You know a lot of suede and undressed leather. A few spoke with Murgontian accents, a few were South Pentish.” A man shook his head. “They were a rough lot.”
“I know one was Bentonnian from the name he used,” a woman said, looking much better than the night before.
“Let’s go back to the leader. A blondish man. Middle aged?”
“Yes. But he was very fit. Good looking, pointed chin, piercing blue eyes. Actually he looked rather Murgontian, if you ask me, but he had a cultured Pent accent,” the man said and fingered his chin. “Sort of middle-aged. Blond, he was—not yet gray.”
“Erect. Perhaps a glint of the rogue about him? Hair was clipped, but still rather longish?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“I think I do. He went by a different name when I knew him.” Sovell Mortac. Panix never noticed, but now that he recalled the man’s demeanor, he did look like a Murgontian. He had be an agent of Murgontia, rather than the commercial spy Foald claimed?
A maid escorted a man in a rumpled uniform of sorts up to the table. “This is the local constable, he can help you from here.” The innkeeper looked at Panix. “Are you through?”
“Quite through, thank you.” Panix rose and walked up the stairs as if he was headed for the gallows.
He entered the room, facing an empty pallet. He slowly looked behind the door, and there, Lorna huddled in her underclothes clutching a blanket.
“Leave, this instant,” she said through clenched teeth.
He followed Lorna’s instructions and didn’t grin until he left the room.
~
The morning’s ride proved to be a study in silence. Panix tried to engage Lorna in conversation, but to no avail. He commented on the breaks of blue sky in the heavy clouds, the singing of the birds, the wildflowers carpeting the countryside, but found his efforts unsuccessful. He talked about his suspic
ion about Sovell to what seemed like deaf ears. Eventually, he just followed behind her by a few horselengths.
When they stopped for the midday meal, at least Lorna ended her silence to mention she wasn’t very hungry. Panix made a quick soup with broth, a few vegetables, some dried meat and herbs. He magically heated the pot and placed it on a rock to steep. Lorna sat a few paces off, leaning against an old tree, looking across the meadow towards a little pond. “Beavers dammed that from a stream you can’t see from here,” she said to Panix’s relief.
He looked over and noticed the natural dam for the first time. He ladled out some of the soup into a bowl, broke off a crust of bread and brought it over to the woman. She looked up and took the bowl, bread and a spoon. “Thanks. I never did learn to cook.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Why didn’t you put me in the bed last night? You were supposed to have the cot.”
Was that bothering her? “Your clothes still bore the stains of the road. I didn’t want to soil that landlord’s sheets and I wasn’t about to take liberties and undress you in your state.” Panix did not continue to say he wanted to sleep in the bed and she wouldn’t appreciate the comfort in her drunken stupor.
“Oh. I’m sure the landlord appreciates your consideration. And I guess I do too. You could have easily taken advantage of me. I’m sorry I drank too much. This week has been hard on me and I needed the release. I’ve never been in such a an inebriated state before and would prefer you not mention it to anyone.” She looked across to the dam.
“You can rely on me to behave like a gentleman.” Panix laughed as he bent over and ate his soup out of the pot.
“You’re a good cook, Gavid. This is the best camp soup I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s just another recipe to follow, not much different than making metal. However, I did put a few extra herbs in your portion to help out with your headache.”
Her eyes turned into slits. “So you think I have a headache? Did you use your magic to look inside my head? Did you use your magic to turn me into one of your alloys?”
Lorna dropped the bowl and spoon where she sat and struggled to her feet, mounted her horse and, without another word, rode off, leaving her packhorse and floater.
Panix realized he couldn’t have said anything that would irritate her more, than to remind her she couldn’t work metal or use magic.
~
It took Panix an hour to catch up with Lorna. She merely grunted when he reigned in his horse by her side.
“Sorry I said that,” he began. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m not used to normal conversations with you.” He was getting in deeper and knew it. “We need to work together if we are going to help the Marquessa and the people of Pent.”
That seemed to thaw her a little bit. “We’re about eight hours away from the cottage. The road will be none too good from this direction, so we’ll still have to camp for the night.”
Panix gladdened that she would respond at all. Lorna added little conversation to their trip that night when they camped along the track. About all he got out of her were mumblings of appreciation about the food. Just before noon the next day, they arrived at her father’s little house.
Like his own, slightly larger, country house, the cottage appeared to be made out of roughly cut stone. Panix could tell the slate roof and rock masonry were magician made. The construction would make the cottage last a long time without becoming a ruin like conventional construction would. He wondered if most of the Pent nobility had their buildings infused with magic. That wasn’t the case in Korvanna, but then the climate wasn’t nearly as harsh.
Lorna unlocked the door and walked in. The cabin smelled musty, but opening the windows for a day would eliminate that. They both unloaded their floats. At least that gave her an advantage over Quill Vent.
The larder ended up well stocked. A fenced-in open stable around the back had room for six horses. Panix took a scythe and cut the grass in front of the cottage and raked it into a pile for fodder for the horses.
The cottage consisted of a large living area with three bedrooms and a kitchen. He found Lorna pumping dirty water into the sink.
“It takes an hour to get clear water.”
“Let me help.” He held the pump handle open while he pulled water from the well with his talent. The water ran from the pump and in a few minutes the water ran clear.
“I know you don’t like magic, Lorna, but think of me as an exceptionally talented servant helping you out in the cottage.” He thought of Merra and how she must have felt when they were together. Neither of them liked him and he vowed to change Lorna’s impression of him. He sighed because, at this point, Merra remained a lost cause.
“I’ll even fix dinner.” It didn’t cost Panix anything to offer knowing that Lorna had no idea how to cook. “What would you like?” All he got was a cold eye, so he fixed ham and beans, the same thing they would have eaten if they camped out.
~
Sovad walked quietly into Mardon Fannok’s tack room. The lord of the manor hummed a tune as he looked intently at a set of harnesses. “What do you hear, Mardon?” The man jumped at the greeting and Sovad smiled at his reaction.
“Don’t creep up on me like that.” Mardon went back to inspecting his harnesses. “I’ve got a tidbit of news for you.”
“Do you now?” Sovad looked over the pile that Mardon had just inspected, picking up a harness with a loose rivet. “You missed this one.” He threw it on the floor.
“A group of your latest victims, the ones with the steam carriage, walked a few leagues to an inn. The chief constable received a report and forwarded it along to me. It seems a couple ended up at the inn at the same time… from the capital, looking around. A man and a woman.”
“What are their names and where are they headed?” He didn’t like the idea of investigators. That meant too much thinking on the part of the Marquessa. Sovad worked to distract the army, so when they’d come down from the passes, the Murgontians could invade over the mountains.
“Don’t know. They gave a false name as a husband and wife. One of ‘em told the innkeeper they weren’t married, but did tell him they were lookin’ into your activities.”
“Did they talk to the victims?”
“Yep. The man did. The constable said the man thinks he knew you.”
“What? How could they possibly know me?” Sovad knew only a few people in Pent City. “Let me know if, when, and where they surface.” Sovad clapped him on the back a bit harder than needed and walked out of the tack room unsettled by the conversation.
~
Lorna sat on the porch of the cottage looking and listening to the sounds of the morning. Birds were chirping along with the night’s rain dripping from the emerging foilage. She tried to remember which calls belonged to which birds. Years ago, Lorna would spend weeks on end here with her nanny, who taught her lessons and manners and with her father’s now-dead steward, who taught her birdcalls and riding.
She’d enjoyed being a little girl, but after her mother died when she was fifteen her life changed. She only visited the cottage when inspecting the estate with her father and began attending school year-around in the capital.
What would her life be like if her mother hadn’t died? There wouldn’t have been a trip to Morven with her father. She wouldn’t have had her lack of magic rubbed in her face by Panix Gavid who now cooked breakfast for her.
She had to admit that her father’s flat out rejection of her still hurt. Her father worked with the Marquessa to get her distracted. At least that was how it seemed after her ‘valuable’ work with Blox had so quickly been changed into this trip. Panix Gavid, she shook her head, did the man have any redeeming qualities?
“Breakfast,” Panix called. Lorna broke off her reverie and walked inside to an elaborate spread. “I don’t know what you like, so I made a little of everything.”
“Thank you. I can see food I haven’t had in years.” She noticed that the por
tions were small, but she couldn’t restrain a smile, to see pancakes, sausages, bacon, small bites of steak, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, and even fried bread. She couldn’t wait to taste the shredded potato cakes and steaming fruit compote.
“I hope you like it. I enjoy breakfast and since we both brought plenty of food, I thought it wouldn’t matter if we splurged a bit. Besides, most of this can be packed up and eaten along our way. I can reheat it up a bit wherever we are,” Panix said as he sat down to eat.
Panix bowed his head and made the sign of the Paired Gods. She was surprised by the expression of piety in her companion.
Lorna overtly followed no gods, but in her heart she prayed to the Goddess of the Earth… a female manifestation of Utten. After the Awakening in a world where magic made life much easier, priests and priestesses were more counselors than religious leaders.
She thought how little she really knew the man across from her breakfast table. He was quiet, tall, good looking in an ascetic kind of way, but he did have a temper and she knew she was an expert at bringing that out, but she realized that she really didn’t know how he thought.
He certainly had shown her no disrespect. Actually, other than remarks on her magical talent, that still opened wounds her father had made, Panix had acted like a gentleman.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” She found that she wanted to know more about Panix, to be fair to him.
“My father wanted all of his children to be self-sufficient. He grew up in humble circumstances and wanted us to know how everyone else lived. My stepbrother Aston refused to learn, being supported in his refusal by my stepmother.” Panix’s face clouded for a second. Possibly a bad memory, Lorna thought.
“My sister Corlee and I enjoyed the experiences. It brought us closer to our father. I guess all kids like to learn things from their parents. We learned to cook, clean house, wash our clothes, grow vegetables in our garden and take care of horses.”
“Didn’t your mother join in the teaching?” Lorna was surprised that Panix had such a bad opinion of his own mother.
