by Pelaam
Having discussed his plan with Quillon, Aydin left his cousin to make the arrangements for him to get to Emer’s brother’s home. Quillon would ensure that Aydin’s trip through the Blood Gate would bring him close by.
He detoured briefly to his own home in Vargr to don a wide, black, iron-studded belt from which hung a couple of thick leather pouches. Aydin carefully settled a well-wrapped surprise intended for Gethin inside one of them.
After selecting a long, broad-bladed knife, Aydin weighed the weapon in his hand for a moment. Normally such a weapon, with its jewel-encrusted handle and engraved blade, would be little more than purely ceremonial or for display purposes. But Aydin had the feeling that the knife might actually be used for more than just show.
Adding the knife to his belt, he patted it. “Long may you continue to serve me well.” He then returned to Quillon.
“I have the coordinates, so when you pass through the Blood Gate, keep walking straight ahead. You’ll be a couple of hundred metres away from the house.” Quillon slapped Aydin’s back as Aydin looked at the Blood Gate.
“Thank you. Let’s see what I can stir up.” Aydin’s smile was cold and grim.
“Be careful, cousin. Don’t underestimate Gethin.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t underestimate my enemies. I just want to catch Gethin’s attention. Keep an eye on Sean. Although I get a good feeling about Emer and Lachlan, someone put us onto Emer, and that someone may be close by them.”
“I’ll keep in touch with him. If he needs anything, I’ll make sure he gets it.” Quillon folded his arms and stood back. “May you have success, Aydin.”
With a curt nod, Aydin strode into the Blood Gate. As Quillon directed, Aydin headed straight ahead. The increased prickling of his skin seemed to indicate he was going in the right direction.
The house came into view, and Aydin picked up his pace. As much as he hated what he was about to do, there was really no alternative. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, as much due to his anger at what he intended to do as it was to make his appearance even more ferocious. He was sure Gethin’s men were watching the house.
He stormed into the púcas’ home. Smashing and throwing items that looked replaceable, Aydin avoided touching anything that he considered to be of sentimental value. As he hoped, his presence soon attracted goblin interest.
Two warriors dressed in leather and iron attacked him, looking to subdue rather than harm him. Aydin happily worked off some of his fury in fighting them. His gargoyle inheritance made his skin resilient to even a firm sword stroke, and he easily absorbed punches from the goblins fists.
A trained warrior in his own right, Aydin quickly exerted his superiority over his assailants. He twisted one goblin’s wrist until it snapped. His attacker dropped away shrieking in pain. Relentlessly he attacked the other, fending off blow after blow until sweat ran in rivulets down the warrior’s face and body, impeding his vision and loosening his grip on his sword.
Bored with teasing, Aydin lunged. He swatted the sword aside and wrapped one hand around the goblin’s throat. He drew his lips back to display his teeth, letting smoke drift free from his nostrils. He lifted the creature up high in the air, where the goblin kicked and scrabbled futilely at his throat.
“You have one chance to keep your worthless life. Who sent you here?”
“Lord Gethin. Lord Gethin.” The name came wheezing past the goblin’s lips.
A satisfied smirk curled Aydin’s lips, and he shook the hapless goblin for good measure. “So it’s true. He has what I seek. I’ll tell him he needs tougher soldiers.” Aydin lowered his prey, and smashed his fist into the goblin’s face. Releasing his grip, Aydin let the unconscious creature fall from his grasp.
Looking around, he saw that the other goblin had gone. His smirk became a grim smile. Gethin would be expecting him, but Aydin wasn’t concerned. The goblin lord would want to know how Aydin apparently knew about his illicit drug trade. He cracked his knuckles and blew a plume of smoke from his nostrils.
Elongating his wings, Aydin rose into the air. Gethin might have warriors on the ground, ready to ambush anyone approaching on foot, but there was no way for him to guard the skies in the same way.
Even if Gethin did have a few archers among his men, Aydin remain unconcerned. His gargoyle skin was impervious to normal arrows, knives and sword blades. The goblin lord would need a platoon of archers for Aydin’s skin to finally lose its resilience. He flew silently forward, his gaze seeking the clearance in the forest that he knew heralded the entrance to Gethin’s underground kingdom.
You’re in for a big fall, Gethin.
Chapter Eleven
Do not go where the path may lead,
go instead where there is no path
and leave a trail.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Swooping down, Aydin landed in front of the guards at the entrance to Gethin’s underground fortress. Settling his wings back into their small form, he stomped toward the goblins. He smiled to himself as they visibly flinched at his approach.
He pushed his face just millimetres from one of them. “Tell Gethin that Aydin, son of Taan, wants to meet with him for a mutually beneficial discussion. I’ll wait, but not for long. So you’d best hurry.” Aydin snarled the words and accompanied them with a billow of smoke that made the goblin guard choke and splutter before he backed up to the immense iron door.
Glowering at the other guard, Aydin settled himself on a large rock and toyed with his knife, letting the sun catch it so it glinted. Only a minute or two passed before the guard he’d spoken to came over to him.
“Lord Gethin is pleased to have you visit him. You may pass. Unarmed.” The guard held out his hand.
In a swift move that Aydin’s bulk belied, he grabbed the guard, then lifted and twisted him before pinning him on the rock Aydin had been sitting on seconds before. He pressed his knife to the guard’s throat.
“Be thankful I’m in a benevolent mood. Otherwise your hand would be my latest trophy.” Aydin didn’t wait to see what the guard did. He sheathed his knife, strode to the iron door, and hammered loudly on it. “Open it for me before I open it for myself.”
A deep creak accompanied the slow movement of the door opening outwards. Several guards awaited him inside. He favoured them with a cold smile that did little more than show his teeth. “What are we waiting for? Take me to Gethin.”
Flanked by the guards that he towered head and shoulders over, Aydin allowed himself to be led along a downward sloping tunnel. At the end of the tunnel they passed through another door, and then the tunnel opened out into a large, circular courtyard with a domed roof. Sconces set in the stone walls provided the only light, which meant the place was dull and depressing.
Goblins bustled back and forth from doors set in into the rock ahead, but only one door had Aydin’s attention. A door set with silver with silver pillars on either side. The other doors led into the general part of Gethin’s underground kingdom. But Aydin was only interested in the door that led through to Gethin’s personal palace.
None of the other goblins paid any real attention to Aydin. Gethin was known to be ruthless and demanding. None of his servants would want to risk being accused of dawdling. Aydin adopted a casual stance as the silver door was opened, but inwardly he was poised, ready for anything.
Following the guards inside, Aydin entered Gethin’s palace. He stopped just inside and took in the magnificence.
The walls were decorated with many polished silver plates that enhanced the lights in the sconces. The effect was a well-lit, airy antechamber. Shells surrounded the circular plates in a multitude of shapes and colours. Shells were a prized commodity between the goblin lords and some of the mountain-dwelling beings in Vargr. To have such pieces demonstrated wealth and implied good taste—at least, what passed for taste among the multitudes of goblin tribes. The many shells Gethin displayed helped the goblin lord loudly proclaim his wealth.
/>
“Aydin, son of Taan, welcome to my kingdom. A somewhat unexpected pleasure.”
The cultured tone drew Aydin’s attention from his surroundings. He drew his lips back in a humourless smile. “Gethin, son of Adok, thank you for your so hospitable welcome.”
Given Gethin was a member of goblin royalty, Aydin expected him to look a little more refined than his soldier hoards, but he hadn’t expected Gethin to appear shrouded in his glamour.
In contrast to his green, swarthy-skinned, and tusked soldiers, Gethin’s skin was smooth and copper-hued. With his refined features and long dark hair, the goblin looked like an attractive, sophisticated human male. He wore black silk harem pants, a cloak decorated with shells, and a shell necklace around his neck.
Gethin smiled back at Aydin, revealing even white teeth. “I’m rather partial to this form.” Gethin waved his hands over his body and then snapped his fingers. “Wine for my guest.”
His skin prickling and shifting colours, Aydin forced himself to only give a cursory glance at the scantily clad slave who brought over a silver tray, despite the almost overwhelming desire to just grab the púca and run.
Emer’s brother. Aydin knew it instantly. The young púca kept his head down as he held up the tray on which sat silver goblets. Aydin took his, and sniffed it cautiously.
“Oh, please.” Gethin laughed. “I have no interest in drugging or poisoning you. You intrigue me. Especially your reference to mutual benefits.” Gethin sipped his wine, looking at Aydin over the goblet’s rim.
“Word reached me about a certain…shall we call it, enhancement for pleasure?” Aydin let the wine touch his lips, but he didn’t swallow. “I’d like to discuss a business proposition in regards to distribution.”
“You?” Gethin’s eyebrows rose, his eyes losing their fake green colour and glowing orange. “I would hardly have thought you to be interested in anything along those lines.”
“I’m glad I’ve surprised you.” Aydin smirked, and set his goblet back on the tray Cavan still held. “Perhaps we may retire somewhere a little more comfortable?”
“Indeed.” Gethin put his own goblet down. “Go to the kitchen and get food. The best sweetmeats. You understand, boy?”
“Yes, my lord.”
As Cavan hurried away, Aydin couldn’t help but watch him, his protective instincts warring against the idea the púca would be out of his sight.
“The púca interests you?”
Silently cursing himself for his slip, Aydin met Gethin’s gaze. “Let me discuss my plans with you. Then you’ll understand my interest in the púca.”
“Indeed. This way.”
Following Gethin, Aydin hoped he could carry off his intended deception. Things had suddenly become that much more difficult, and far more personal.
Chapter Twelve
Be a friend. You don’t need glory.
Friendship is a simple story.
Edgar A. Guest
With Aydin back in Vargr to continue the investigation from there, Emer, Lachlan and Sean were left to consider the best way forward. The next day, when Emer closed his restaurant following lunch, the three of them walked along the beach. Their aim was to go into town and see if they could uncover anything about the other supplier. Emer knew of no one else who received paua like he did.
Walking close to Lachlan, Emer found it difficult to believe the unexpected twists and turns in his life. A light brush of Lachlan’s fingers against his hand made him glance at his lover. Lachlan’s smile instantly buoyed his mood.
“You live in a beautiful part of the world.” Sean stopped and took a deep breath. “I’d like to live close to a beach. I’m an inner-city man, though.”
“This is one of the reasons I love it here so much.” Emer gazed out to sea. “I can’t imagine being in a big city.”
“Can we walk along the beach all the way into town?” Sean asked.
“No.” Emer shook his head. “The beach ends just around that small headland. Then we have the walkway. That leads right through town and as far out as to the next little township, as we call them. There isn’t any beach as such in town, just the rocks and the walkway, but the beach restarts at the far end of town. We’re very fortunate. There are a lot of bars and restaurants with a view over the ocean.”
“Beautiful.” Sean nodded as they carried on. “So, why this particular bar, Lachlan?”
“Well, basically The Swan’s Nest Inn was very popular with the sailors and fishermen when it was Old Salty’s. A good place for local gossip. Then about a year ago, Jane bought it in partnership with one of the big hospitality groups. It’s not the old rough and ready place it used to be. But it’s still a favourite with fisherman, although they tend to go during the day and find other places in the evenings. I thought it might be a good starting point. I provide Emer with his paua shells. One of the fishermen may know of someone else receiving daily supplies.”
“It’s as good a place as any then.” Sean checked his watch. “Let’s hope we get lucky. You can’t stay long, can you, Emer?”
“No. I close the restaurant after lunch at three, and then re-open for dinner at six-thirty. Everything is pretty much prepped, but I really need to be back an hour or so before I open. Just to make sure everything’s set up in the restaurant, as well as the kitchen.”
Sean nodded. “Okay. Cool.”
As they approached the bar, Emer shivered. Engrossed in conversation, neither Lachlan nor Sean noticed. Emer had no idea what caused his reaction. He ran his hands over his arms, feeling the goosebumps under his fingertips. Something about the place felt very wrong. This was the first time he’d even been close to it. His own restaurant kept him busy enough, and when he relaxed, he liked being outdoors, not stuck in a bar.
“You okay?” Lachlan squeezed his shoulder.
“Fine. Just got a chill.” The half-scowl on Lachlan’s face wasn’t the only giveaway to his lover’s disbelief. Emer was stunned at just how quickly they’d become attuned. He felt Lachlan’s disbelief. “Let’s talk about it after we’ve got drinks. Okay?”
“You got it.” Lachlan nodded. “Good. There are a few of the older guys that I know. Nothing they like better than spinning a yarn, or a good bit of gossiping.”
Lachlan led the way inside, Sean followed, and Emer went in last. He looked around. The inside looked perfectly normal. The bar was dark wood, and behind the bar, glass shelves held the usual mix of spirits. There were high tables with stools over to the left, and to the right the tables had well-cushioned chairs.
There was an air of opulence, from the highly polished dark wood, and the crimson leather padded seats, and yet an undercurrent that Emer just couldn’t put into words. To him, it felt as if the pretty trappings hid something ugly.
“Lachlan! How lovely to see you. Who’s your friend, or is he family? You look so alike.”
“Afternoon, Jane. This is Sean, a cousin. Emer and I wanted to show him some of our little bit of paradise before Emer has to get back to work.”
Standing behind Lachlan’s broader frame, Emer didn’t miss the scowl that flitted briefly across Jane’s face. Not that he cared. Lachlan loved him. She was no challenge to their relationship. The thought buoyed him up, and he peered from around Lachlan, and favoured Jane with a wide, and totally false, smile.
“Sean’s used to city life. We thought a look around the town, and a drink overlooking the ocean, would be a nice welcome.”
The smile Jane plastered on her face was every bit as fake as Emer’s own. “I didn’t see you there. Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I have time between lunch and dinner to enjoy the company of my friends.” Emer rubbed Lachlan’s back, knowing she couldn’t see the action.
“Yes, well. What drinks can I get for you?” Jane focused her attention, and her cleavage, at Lachlan and Sean.
“I think a nice chilled Chardonnay.” Lachlan picked up the wine list. “The house wine looks fine
. Can you bring it out to us, in an ice bucket, please, and open a tab for me?” He glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Let’s go find somewhere to watch the ocean but still keep in the shade.”
Heading outside, Emer couldn’t resist a swift glance back at Jane. Her face was dark and her lips thin and pinched, but there was nothing she could do except bring out the wine as ordered. Emer knew he shouldn’t feel quite so smug, but he grinned widely as he joined the others at a nice table overlooking the sea.
“Gooday, Lachlan. Don’t normally see you here.” An older man called across from his table, waving a large, meaty hand in greeting.
“Just showing my cousin here how to live the dream. How’s the fishing?” Lachlan laughed and waved back.
“Good. You still getting paua for that cook friend of yours?”
Sean gave a snort of amusement as he glanced at Emer, who shrugged his shoulders. Why would the man know him? He didn’t look the type who frequented restaurants, and if he caught his own fish, the man was likely to be every bit as talented at cooking it as Emer.
“Yes, I am. I get to enjoy a lot of well-cooked food, and especially paua as my reward.” Lachlan winked at Emer.
“Lucky you.” The man fell silent as Jane came out.
She carried a tray with the wine, an ice bucket, and three glasses. She set everything out, and hesitated.
“My shout. Something for your cousin to talk about when he gets back home.”
“Uh, thanks, Jane. That’s very generous.” Lachlan had already picked up the bottle and looked up quickly at Jane, who headed back into her bar.
“A very lucky man.” The old fisherman laughed, a thick, throaty sound. “Don’t see that one part with money easily.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “She don’t cook her paua and offer them to her fishermen, although she does give them discount on drinking here.”
“Fishermen?” Sean leaned forward. “She has more than one supply her?”
