by Xenia Melzer
“Watch where you’re going, you idiot!” The man glared at him. He wore a long, dark coat with the hood deep over his face. Daran was just about to murmur some kind of apology when the stranger took his upper arms in an iron grip. Their faces got so close, Daran could smell the other man’s foul breath.
“I can’t believe it! Daran?”
Confused, Daran stopped trying to wrench free. The stranger was laughing now.
“It is you! I hadn’t thought I’d ever see you again!”
With awkward movements, the man pulled the hood away from his face. It took a moment before Daran recognized him.
“Gar? Is that you?”
“Of course, stupid. Who else?”
Imploringly, Daran looked at his friend from childhood days. Gar was two years older than him and had always been like a brother. When they were still little, they had played together in the streets; later they had started begging as a team. Gar had even started taking him along to bigger burglaries, but in the months before Daran left Kwarl, they had lost contact. Gar had developed a deeper interest in women, and his business had become shadier. When he looked at his former friend closely, Daran could see the traces of hardships engraved in Gar’s features. Living at the edge of society had made him age faster. He had the appearance of a man in his thirties, not somebody who had just left twenty behind. A hard streak had formed around his mouth that Daran didn’t remember, and the once-cheerful eyes were now full of resignation. A wave of gratitude washed over Daran when he realized his owners had saved him from more than just death on the gallows. Without their care, he would now be like Gar, aged before his time, weighed down by destiny, and robbed of all hope.
“You look well.”
As if he had read Daran’s thoughts, Gar regarded him intently. “It seems you fared way better than I did.”
Slightly flustered, Daran evaded his gaze. “I was very lucky.”
“I’d say so too. But you know, let’s go somewhere and have a beer and a chat. There’s too many people around here.”
Sadly, Daran shook his head. “I’m sorry, that’s impossible. I have to be back soon.”
Gar furrowed his brow. A shadow danced across his face, turning it into a hideous grimace for a moment, only to soften up immediately. His tone was mocking.
“Don’t tell me you’re too noble to be meeting with your old friend.”
Startled, Daran’s eyes widened. “No, of course not! You have to believe me!”
“It’s fine, I’m just making fun of you. Come on, just one beer.”
Desperately Daran tried to find a way to decline the offer. He had no intention whatsoever of accompanying Gar, but if he didn’t want to insult his childhood friend any more than he already had, he was left with no choice.
“Please, Daran. It’s my treat.”
With a sigh, Daran gave in. He knew he was going to get into trouble with his masters, but if he didn’t follow Gar, the man would surely stalk him, and Daran did not want Aegid and Kalad to find out what kind of company their slave had kept. Given the choice, he preferred the beating he would surely get for his disobedience over the disgrace of the warriors finding out. With a last longing glance at the market, he followed Gar into the shadows of the thieves’ quarters.
“YOU’VE ALWAYS been a sight to behold, but now you seem to be glowing from the inside. Whatever has happened to you, it must have been spectacular.”
Embarrassed, Daran stared at the mug standing in front of him. The stench in the bar assaulted his nostrils, and the smell coming from the swill the owner of the bar dared to call beer made him nauseated. To satisfy Gar, he pretended to take a sip, but not a drop passed his lips. Life with Aegid and Kalad had made him particular.
“As I said, I was lucky. But let’s stop talking about me. How did you fare?”
Gar’s gaze darkened. “Definitely not as well. You know, life was never easy for us. Speed and cunning alone are not sufficient if you want to get by. The older you get, the more brutal business becomes. I’ve survived until now, but it wasn’t a stroll.”
Daran nodded emphatically. He knew all too well about the harsh reality Gar had been describing. It was a world where the strong were always right, a world where law and order had no place. Sometimes he wondered how the Valley, which was led by the will of two gods of war, was different from the streets of Kwarl, but given the choice, he would always prefer his masters over life as an outlaw. He shuddered. It would be better to return to said masters right now, before his punishment reached an extent he wouldn’t be able to bear.
“I’m sorry, Gar. It was nice talking to you, but I really have to go.”
“You haven’t finished your beer yet.”
“I’m not really thirsty. Goodbye, Gar.”
Daran was about to leave when his friend’s hand landed heavily on his arm. “Daran, stay.”
The desperate tone in Gar’s voice alerted Daran. “Gar, what’s going on?”
His childhood friend evaded his gaze. “I’m truly sorry. I had no choice.”
“Gar! What are you talking about?”
“Well done, Gar. You may leave now.”
The voice made Daran freeze, for he knew it all too well. A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and he winced. That hand had beaten him so often, he knew its weight and structure by heart.
“Egand.”
His voice was hoarse. Gar retreated with a guilty expression.
“I’m so sorry, Daran. I had some unsettled debts with him, and if I hadn’t handed you over, he would have killed me.”
Daran didn’t reply. It hurt too much to be betrayed by this man he once had thought of as a brother. Egand grabbed his shoulder impatiently and forced Daran to turn around. His stepfather had gotten old since the last time they met. The years had intensified the cruel streak around his mouth and the scornful look in his eyes. His hair had thinned and taken on a washed-out gray color, and his burly frame slumped a little, but he still emanated danger. Now his lips contorted into a sadistic smile.
“If it isn’t my poor lost stepson. When I heard the rumors about you being back in Kwarl, I couldn’t believe it. But here you are, handsome as ever and dressed like a prince.”
Daran rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for shallow games. “What do you want, Egand?”
His stepfather’s eyes narrowed in anger.
“What do I want? How about the money you owe me? I’d been feeding and clothing you for ten long years, providing a roof over your head, and just when you reached the age to repay my generosity, you vanished into thin air. I turned Kwarl inside out to find you. Where in the Mothers’ names have you been?”
“As if you’d be interested in that. Concerning your ‘care,’ I always had to earn my keep. I don’t owe you a thing.”
Egand chuckled with malicious glee. “It seems the little doggie has grown some teeth. But I’m warning you, think twice whom you growl at, you ungrateful piece of shit.”
“I’ll growl as much as I like. If you don’t have anything else to say, I’m on my way.”
“Not so fast, boy.” Egand’s dirty fingers dug into Daran’s upper arm. “You can leave when I decide so, and at the moment I want you to stay. Since you’ve obviously been doing well, you’re going to share your riches with me. Then you can leave.”
Daran was speechless for a moment, and then he started to laugh.
“My riches? Could it be your eyesight has become poor in your old age? Do you see this?” Daran gingerly touched the collar around his neck. “I’m a slave. I don’t own anything. Strictly speaking, not even my body. How am I supposed to share with you?”
“A slave? Do you want to make a fool out of me? Your shirt is made of the finest linen, your jerkin and trousers are chamois leather, your boots are made from mountain deer leather and, as far as I can see, lined with rabbit’s fur. I don’t know a single master who would adorn a slave like that.”
“My masters like to dress me up. It heightens their status
.”
“And who are these ominous masters?”
Daran was torn over whether he should tell Egand. But then he decided it would be better to have his cards out in the open. Perhaps his stepfather would even let him go.
“If you must know, they’re lords from the Valley. It was they who took me away from here. I wanted to steal from them, and in exchange for not handing me over to the guards, they kept me as their slave.”
“And I’m supposed to believe this?”
Egand’s voice was meant to sound derisive, but Daran could feel the insecurity that had taken hold of the man. Every child in Kwarl knew how foolish it was to challenge somebody from the Valley.
“I don’t care whether you believe me or not. All I’m saying is, if I don’t return soon, they’re going to look for me, and then we’re all in deep trouble.”
Egand appraised his stepson closely. Daran could almost hear the thoughts in the man’s head. On one hand, Daran was a most welcome, promising prey. On the other hand, it was akin to suicide to meddle in the affairs of the lords from the North. After some agonizing moments, greed triumphed over reason. Egand’s gaze hardened.
“I think you’re just trying to fool me. You’re coming with me, and then we’ll see whether your ‘masters’”—he spat the word out sarcastically—“will stoop to saving you. If they do, I’m curious as to how much they’re willing to pay for you. Until then, I’ll take this. Just think of it as an advance.”
With this he wrenched the wallet from Daran’s hands and gave the two men, who had been staying in the background until now, a sign. Despite his efforts, they grabbed Daran and began to drag him outside. When he tried to wrestle free, Egand knocked him out without batting an eyelash.
“I WONDER what’s keeping Daran. It’s not like him to make us wait.”
Aegid scanned the crowd with worried eyes, as if his will alone could make the thief appear again. Kalad put a hand on his arm. He, too, was worried. The sun had already started to go down, and Casto had retired to their accommodation for the night. After an entire day of ruthless negotiations, he was exhausted but satisfied. He had managed to sell all the horses he had brought at top prices and was looking forward to finding a suitable stallion for breeding. The desert brothers had wanted to wait for their thief and were growing more restless with every minute he didn’t appear.
“Shall we go looking for him?”
“I’d prefer to. Unfortunately we haven’t brought any of the wolves with us, but in this chaos, they’d probably be unable to follow the trail.”
Determined, they went to the best inn in Kwarl, where Sic and Casto were waiting for them. Seeing their strained expressions, the king knew immediately that something was amiss.
“Where’s Daran? Is he still not back?”
“No. And we’re getting worried. He’s always reliable.”
Kalad’s heart was in these few words. Casto put on his boots again.
“We’d better go looking for him.”
“It’s fine, Casto. You and Sic better stay here. We can do this on our own.”
“Do you really think we’d let you search for your thief all alone? Of course we’re going to help, won’t we, Sic?”
The young smith smiled broadly despite his exhaustion. “Who can say no to you, Casto?”
The king turned to the desert brothers in triumph. “How do you wish to proceed?”
Aegid regarded the eager faces of his brother-in-arms and his lord with heartfelt gratitude.
“At this time, there shouldn’t be too many people left on the market. We’ll spread out and start asking questions. Daran is noticeable enough to make an impression. Somebody must remember him. We’ll meet again in an hour at the place where you sold the horses today.”
The two young men nodded, and Sic placed a soothing hand on Aegid’s arm.
“We’ll find him, I’m sure. I bet it’s nothing bad. Perhaps he’s just forgotten the time.”
Kalad’s face was dark. “No matter what, he can look forward to some serious punishment once he’s back. We won’t let this slip.”
“First we have to find him. Then you can think about his punishment.”
Casto’s voice was gentle. He understood the worries of the two men all too well. The obsessive love of the desert brothers for their thief was the target of good-humored banter almost as often as Renaldo’s affection for Casto. And everybody in the Valley admired Daran for keeping the balance between his masters without favoring one of them. For two men who were as inseparably connected as Aegid and Kalad, a partner like that was as rare and precious as a blue diamond. Perhaps even more, since it had taken them more than eight hundred years to find him. Determined not to lose this treasure, the four warriors got on their way.
It was Sic who returned with good news to the place they had agreed on. He was accompanied by an older, yet still striking female whose lively eyes seemed to take in even the most mundane details. Sic introduced her with a slight bow.
“This is Mother Gwen. She’s got a stall for sweets in the market and has known Daran since he was a little boy. Mother Gwen, these are the Lords Casto, Aegid, and Kalad.”
The proud woman made a movement that could be interpreted as a curtsey; then she turned directly to the desert brothers.
“So you’re the good fortune that’s befallen him.”
“How did you manage to deduce this so quickly?” Casto was impressed. Mother Gwen treated him to a smile, which reminded him of Hulda. It was full of motherly warmth but also a tiny bit condescending, as if he were a small boy who had just asked a foolish question. The king felt crimson creeping into his cheeks.
“It’s not as hard as you might think. I can feel the worry surrounding these two. Also, you’re too young to bind him like he is.”
“What do you know about Daran?” Kalad sounded gruff. He was frustrated that they hadn’t been able to find out anything substantial.
Mother Gwen turned serious. “Not much and nothing good. This morning Daran visited my stall to buy some sweets. Sometime later, he was seen with a man called Gar. Gar is a friend from childhood days and was always Daran’s hero. Rumor has it they went into a tavern called the Golden Hat. It’s a bad place where thieves and cutthroats meet.”
“Why would Daran go there? We forbade him to leave the market, and he always obeys our commands.”
Aegid was enraged, but Mother Gwen only shrugged her shoulders.
“How would I know? But you shouldn’t forget that this is the place Daran grew up, and Gar was the closest thing to a brother he ever had. Perhaps he thought he had no choice. Anyway, Egand, too, has been seen in the Golden Hat, which makes things complicated. He’s Daran’s stepfather and still harboring a grudge because the boy managed to give him the slip five years ago. If he has him, you might as well give up.”
“This Egand—he’s the man who beat up Daran.” There was a dangerous tone in Kalad’s voice. He sounded like an angry wolf shortly before it charged.
“Egand has done a lot to Daran, including things he’ll surely never tell anybody about. The only reason Daran could still be alive at the moment is Egand’s greed. He’s probably found out by now that Daran is no longer poor. He’s going to try to get his share of the wealth before executing his revenge.”
“Where can we find this Egand person?”
Mother Gwen stared at the four warriors long and hard. Then she shrugged again.
“I’ll tell you where his lair is, but be careful. Egand is ruthless, unpredictable, and crazy enough to challenge you. Plus he’s at an advantage since this is his territory. If you’re not careful, he can become a danger to you.”
“Don’t worry about that, Mother Gwen. You only tell us where we can find him.”
The determined air around Kalad as well as the lethal glint in his eyes, convinced the woman that these men were capable of winning against Egand. She described the way to his hideout down to the last detail before bidding them farewell.
; “Good luck on your mission. Once you have Daran back, tell him hello from me.” An impish smile appeared on her lips. “He owes me more than just one good story.”
“We will. And I will personally see to it that he pays his debt.”
Aegid bowed gracefully to their informant, before the warriors went on their way.
DARAN WOKE because of a searing pain in his arms. Still dizzy from the blow he had received, he blinked rapidly. Obviously he had been tied quite effectively, since he was unable to move his arms and legs and felt cool steel around his neck. Egand didn’t want to take a risk. Slowly his surroundings slid into focus. The shadows of unconsciousness were driven away by the flickering light of some smoky torches, which cast their irregular light on the stone walls. Daran had been placed under an arch, and in the distance he heard water dripping. He smelled a mixture of sewage, stale beer, excrement, and cheap perfume. It was a stench Daran knew by heart. They had brought him to Egand’s main quarters, a desolate place in the underground of Kwarl, which once had served as the city’s cistern system. When the city grew, the citizens had started to get water from outside, and the underground system with its countless tunnels and caves had been first neglected and then forgotten, until Egand had ventured down. From here his stepfather controlled the thieves’ quarter with an iron fist. All those who had a run-in with the law found a safe haven here, because the guard didn’t dare to come into this labyrinth where even the rats were vicious. Daran closed his eyes in despair. Nobody had to tell him how serious the trouble was he had gotten himself into. He had to escape as fast as possible if he didn’t want his masters to follow him down here.
The mere thought that Aegid and Kalad could see with their own eyes in what shabby surroundings he had grown up made Daran’s insides churn. Of course, they already knew about his shady past, but knowing something and seeing it were two entirely different things.
