Apprentice Swordceror

by Chris Hollaway

  “No, but it looks very familiar… May I?”

  The man nodded and held the knife out, hilt first.

  Kevon braced himself and accepted it, making sure to brush the crosspiece with his fingertips first thing so that he could relax while holding the knife afterward. The now familiar shock tore through him, but he barely flinched. He tested the edge with his thumb, and sighted along several angles. He gripped the knife by its handle and twisted his wrist around a few times to get a feel for it. It seemed heavier than a simple knife, but he got the same feeling he had when first handling the Warrior’s sword. A feeling of rightness.

  “Yes, I want this knife. Do you know anything about where this came from?” Kevon asked again.

  “No, but it’s got to be a southern blade. There’s enough steel in that for three good knives.”

  Kevon gave the man a questioning look.

  “Smiths near the mines in the south have more iron to work with,” the man explained. “Seems wasteful to me.”

  “How much for the knife?” Kevon asked, eager to own the already familiar-feeling blade.

  The man grunted in amusement. “Twelve silver. Twice, at least, what any of the others over there would cost.”

  Kevon placed the knife on the counter. The man moved to pick it up to replace it on its display pegs, but Kevon reached for his money pouch.

  “Nine,” Kevon muttered dejectedly.

  “For nine you’d get no belt or sheath,” the man said sternly.

  “Nine is all I have until later today, maybe tomorrow,” Kevon thought aloud. “I might need one or two for other expenses.” He stared hard at the coins in his hand.

  “Sheath, no belt,” the man countered.

  Finally aware he was in a negotiation, Kevon smiled. “Throw in the belt and in the next day or two we’ll talk about swords.”

  The man behind the counter looked closely at Kevon trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “Done,” he said, finally. He rummaged behind the counter briefly and produced the sheath and a serviceable leather belt. “You buy a sword and I just might remember who I bought the knife from.” He turned back to the saddle he was repairing.

  Kevon opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He could not help but grin as he strapped his belt and knife on and drew his cloak tight to conceal them. He would be back.

  He edged back out into the crowd and worked his way back to the inn. He did not feel comfortable exploring further with an empty purse, and decided to wait for the meeting in the Maiden’s common room.

  Kevon had no more than sat down when Bertus happened by and asked if he wanted an early lunch. When Kevon told him he was just waiting around, Bertus nodded and strode off. He returned shortly with two mugs of ale and a small plate of cut fruit.

  Kevon thanked him, and Bertus nodded politely before disappearing back into the kitchen. He picked up a piece of a sweet-smelling, stringy fruit, and was about to taste it when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’re not watching the entrance,” Carlo rumbled, thumping Kevon upside the head.

  “Good morning, Carlo,” Kevon said, rubbing the sore spot and checking for lumps. “Have a seat, and a drink.”

  Carlo picked up the full mug and took a swallow. He pointed to a corner table.

  After the two had seated themselves, Kevon spoke.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” he asked.

  “I’ve collected my pay from Rhulcan. That gives me enough to live on for a while.” Carlo looked at Kevon. “Are you still headed to East Thaddington on this journey of yours?”

  “Yes,” Kevon answered. “As soon as I get the money from the sale, I’ll spend a day or two gearing up, then head for the Inner Cities.”

  Carlo nodded. “I suspected as much. I have some things to take care of, myself.” The mercenary paused, and then looked directly at Kevon. “If you’d like, meet me here later and I’ll show you something that might make your trip easier.”

  The Mercenary ignored the puzzled look on Kevon’s face. He stood, finished off his ale, and thanked Kevon for the drink. As quickly as he had appeared, Carlo stalked out of the common room and was gone.

  Kevon sat, nibbling at the different fruits on the plate. He was almost done with his ale when Marelle arrived to look for him, but it took a few moments for him to recognize her.

  She was wearing a soft blue dress that swept along just above the floor, and a shimmering green shawl that matched her eyes. Her normally straight hair now fell about her in soft waves. She noticed Kevon as he stood to walk over to her, and smiled so perfectly that Kevon could feel his heart beating in his throat.

  The background chatter of the room faded. All Kevon wanted to do was make it across the room to her as quickly as possible, without looking like he was rushing. He threaded his way through the tables, feeling more lightheaded than one ale merited.

  “Shall we go?” Marelle asked, her picturesque smile transformed to an impish grin. “Do you have the item?”

  Kevon patted his tunic pocket and nodded.

  Marelle turned and walked back down the L-shaped hallway that led from the common room to the lobby, Kevon in tow. As soon as they rounded the turn, Marelle swept around and trapped Kevon in a light embrace against the wall. After a few moments of playful kissing, she backed away, put her finger to her lips, and continued out.

  Rhulcan was waiting outside the inn, fretting. He was just finishing reprimanding some passerby who had come too close to the carriage he was standing by. The driver atop the delicate looking wagon sat, looking rather bored.

  “Ah, very good,” Rhulcan said, edging closer to Kevon and Marelle, tugging slightly on the reins of the horse he was holding. “I trust everything is in order?”

  “Yes, father.” Marelle replied with a sigh. “We’re all here, in plenty of time, and everything is ready to proceed.”

  “Very well, very well,” Rhulcan trailed off, looking somewhat distracted. “What do you say we meet back here this evening for dinner?” he asked, looking at Kevon.

  “That’s fine,” Kevon replied, looking confused.

  Marelle steered Kevon by the arm to the carriage, and Rhulcan climbed onto his horse. Kevon helped Marelle into the coach first, and shot a questioning look at Rhulcan.

  “Good luck,” Rhulcan called, and turned his mount into the flow of street traffic.

  Kevon pulled himself up into the carriage and closed the door. “Wow,” he said, eyeing the craftsmanship of the conveyance. “This is nice.”

  “We keep it for special occasions, when appearances are important,” Marelle said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know if it will ever earn back what it cost.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Father won’t sell it because it was Mother’s idea to buy it,” she added quietly.

  Kevon remembered from earlier talks with Marelle that her mother had died when she was about a year old. He leaned across the space between the facing seats to clasp one of Marelle’s hands between his. The carriage lurched into motion and Kevon nearly fell from his seat, bringing a faint smile to Marelle’s suddenly darkened face.

  After the carriage had been moving for a while and the pace had evened out, Marelle gave Kevon’s hand a squeeze and withdrew hers.

  “All right,” she began. “Father has decided to allow me to act in his stead, on your behalf, for these negotiations.”

  “That’s great!” Kevon exclaimed. “This is really a big step for you, isn’t it?”

  Marelle nodded. “I’ll get half the commission, plus the experience and recognition with a major economic power.”

  “So, why is your father not here doing this himself, or at least here supervising?” Kevon asked.

  “He’s taking care of the other trade goods from this trip, and reprovisioning for the next one,” Marelle said, frowning. “He can get everything else done today if he lets me do this.”

  “Oh.” Kevon’s smile turned down to match Marelle’s sour look. “So you’re
…”

  “Leaving tomorrow,” Marelle finished.

  Kevon sat, stunned for a moment until a bump of the carriage snapped him out of it. “I thought there would be more time…”

  “For us?” Marelle asked, staring blankly out the coach’s window. “So did I, but… Maybe it’s better this way. I won’t be here to keep you from your responsibilities. And you won’t have to worry about endangering me…” She wiped her eyes. “It’s for the best.”

  Kevon knew it was practical, knew it was safe. Even though every logical argument pointed to this solution, Kevon could not help but feel that it was wrong.

  “So… where are you going this time?” he asked.

  “South, along the coast,” Marelle answered. “It’s earlier than we normally take this route, but it’s the most profitable.” Marelle smiled at Kevon slightly. “If I invest my own money wisely this trip, I’ll have enough to buy my own shop here in town when we return.”

  “And give up the life of a traveling Merchant?” Kevon asked, teasingly.

  “I get to sleep in my own bed roughly four weeks a year,” Marelle answered, turning her gaze back inside to Kevon. “Having a reason to stay here would give me back my home.”

  Kevon nodded, his thoughts turning back to his own home. He almost wished everything were as it was before he left. He hoped that his mother and sister were all right, that Holten had not decided to mistreat them because of him.

  Kevon looked up to see Marelle staring expectantly at him. He furrowed his brow, thinking. “So… two seasons from now, you’ll likely be here permanently?”

  Marelle smiled and nodded slowly.

  “Oh,” Kevon replied, scratching his chin in contemplation. “That’s good to know.”

  “How about you?” Marelle asked. “Where do you think you’ll be by that time?”

  “At this point, I’m more concerned about how I’ll be,” Kevon answered with a shrug. “Hopefully alive.”

  “Have you thought any more about just running away?”

  “No,” Kevon answered flatly. “He’s far too powerful. I’ve seen him travel long distances in an instant with very little help. I’ve also seen him control animals from far away, luring them to him for food.” Kevon paused. “Who’s to say he couldn’t do the same to me?”

  “Oh,” Marelle said, disappointment tingeing her voice.

  A moment later, Marelle gasped in surprise and flushed in embarrassment. “We’re almost there!”

  “And?” Kevon asked.

  “There are a few things you need to know about dealing with the Myrnar,” Marelle groaned. “And now there’s no time to tell you.”

  “I can follow your lead, that’s why you’re here, right?” Kevon asked. Are there any extremely important things I should know?”

  “Don’t stare!” Marelle blurted. “Whatever you do!”

  “What?” Kevon asked.

  “There are mermaids at every negotiation. They think it helps to have them as spokespersons,” Marelle explained. “They’re probably right. They’re very attractive, and don’t wear much to cover up. They like being looked at,” she added.

  “So, why shouldn’t I stare?” Kevon teased.

  “The mermen get very jealous,” Marelle answered. “Many deals have fallen through because someone couldn’t tear his eyes away from a mermaid.”

  “All right, I’ll do my best.” Kevon said. “Anything else?”

  “Your price,” Marelle continued. “Father checked around, the prices for this size and quality of pearl have dropped. You’ll probably only get about thirty gold for it now.”

  “Why is that?” Kevon asked.

  “Fewer shipwrecks recently? Myrnar treasuries drying up?” Marelle offered. “It’s hard to say.”

  “Whoa!” The driver called out to the horses, and the carriage rolled to a halt.

  Kevon got out first so he could help Marelle out of the coach. When they were both clear and the driver pulled away, Kevon turned to take in the view.

  The sea stretched all the way to the horizon ahead of them. The circular cove’s shape was visible from here, the fingers of land reaching out on both sides. The bay itself was sprinkled with high-masted sailing ships, most still with their sails furled, rocking in the warm afternoon breeze. On some of the nearer vessels, Kevon could see deckhands, bare from the waist up, scurrying about, and moving cargo around.

  If Kevon had not been impressed by the normal goings on of the busy port, the building he and Marelle approached was awe-inspiring. The doorway of the building, as well as some of the structure around it, reminded Kevon of the Maiden’s construction. Kevon understood now from seeing some of the ships up close that the Maiden was built to resemble a ship, probably from materials salvaged from them. But this building was quite different.

  The wood, marble, and brick gave way to a different cut of brick the further away from the entry you looked. It seemed a creamy, off-white color, more porous than the red brick. Near the edge of the building, the material made up the structure entirely. The sections were larger, and billowed like frozen clouds. The strange material also extended into the water to form the foundation.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Marelle asked. “I’ve never been inside before. Neither has father.”

  The doors creaked open and a portly gentleman squinted at them before speaking.

  “Mistress Marelle?” he called.

  “Yes,” she answered, quickening her pace down the cobbled pathway to the building, Kevon directly behind.

  The man at the door huffed and wiped the sweat from his brow before shaking both Kevon and Marelle’s hands. “I’m Alnam, Chief Liaison to the Myrnar,” he asserted. “You must be Kevon,” he continued, stepping back a pace to look Kevon over.

  Kevon did not like the way the pudgy little man was smirking as he sized him up, and was just about to say something when Marelle stepped ahead of him.

  “Gentle Alnam,” she said politely, curtseying slightly. “We are eager to meet with the trade representatives so that we can determine if we can do business.”

  “If you?” Alnam sputtered, then regained his composure and mopped his brow again. “Very well. I shall see if the envoys have arrived.” He motioned for the two to go into a room just off the entrance lobby.

  Kevon followed Marelle into the room. His murmur of appreciation echoed Marelle’s sharp intake of breath at the sights the room offered.

  “The coral on the outside is beautiful,” she said, “But nothing like this.”

  As Kevon’s eyes adjusted to the change of lighting, he began to see more and more of the true artistry worked into the building. Some of the white coral that made up the exterior of the building was present here, where it flowed into ornate benches that were part of the walls.

  Kevon was not sure if the rest of the coral were dyed, or if the color were natural. Either way, the effect was breathtaking. Scenes of underwater life in raised contours and vivid hues melted into each other all around the room’s walls.

  “Now would be a good time to practice not staring,” Marelle jibed as Kevon’s gaze locked on a scene of a mermaid.

  Kevon flushed and looked away before realizing that Marelle was studying the scene intently as well. “They really don’t cover up very much, do they?” he asked.

  “Lucky those ferns were there,” Marelle answered, giggling.

  “Ahem.” Alnam cleared his throat in the hallway behind Kevon and Marelle. “The trade representatives have arrived, and await negotiations in the Tidal Room.”

  “Thank you, Alnam.” Marelle turned and smiled. “Lead on.”

  The liaison led the pair down a long hallway toward the back of the building. At the end of the corridor, two large, thick wooden doors stood open to the room beyond.

  The room was circular, and Kevon thought that half of the chamber must have been able to seat well over a hundred people. The other half was water. Some of the room’s lighting came from the half-circle of sea that was the far
end of the room. Light reflected off the brilliant white sand that lay beneath the surface. Other shafts of light streamed through vents in the domelike ceiling, striking large crystal formations that refracted back up, resulting in a soft glow that cast few, if any shadows.

  The path down to the water was a straight, gentle stairway, wide enough for the three to walk abreast. Every fourth stair, carved coral benches followed the half-circle curve of the room to the railing that bordered the middle of the chamber, overlooking the ocean. The focal point was the table in the very center. It was not large, perhaps eight feet across, but it was the only place in the room that the railing did not separate the two halves.

  Alnam continued down the stairs to the bottom and led Kevon and Marelle to the table. “Please, be seated,” he said, gesturing to the chairs arranged around the near side of the table.

  Kevon helped Marelle with her chair, and then seated himself.

  Alnam took a seat next to the railing. He smiled at Kevon and Marelle, and fidgeted for a few moments.

  There was a sudden swirling of water, and the Myrna surfaced. Marelle had been right. There was a mermaid in the trade delegation.

  Kevon tried to get a good look at them quickly without staring. As the two Myrnar approached the table, they rose further above the waterline, and the sinuous motion they used for swimming became more pronounced.

  The merman swam in the lead. He looked twice Kevon’s age, bare-chested, and physically intimidating. Muscles rippled visibly from below his thick neck down to the point where the brownish-pink of his skin gave way to the sleek grey of his lower body.

  As the two neared the table, the merman stopped and held position in the water while the mermaid circled around and grasped the table’s edge. She slid sideways a bit and sat down. The merman approached and did the same to sit directly across from Kevon.

  Up close, Kevon could see differences that he had not noticed immediately. The Myrnar’s heads were narrower than those of a human, making their bodies look broader than they really were. Their noses started further up their foreheads, and sat higher above their mouths. Their mouths were wider, and their lips were the same grey as their lower torsos.