by H. A. Harvey
Nian smiled and strode along ahead of Kolel toward the gate, “I don’t see what was so wrong, she was nice, and I think she liked me.”
“She has no idea who you are Nian.” Kolel cautioned, “She quite obviously was impressed by what you are. It is very important to know the difference. Now, if you don’t mind, we should make our way out to the gates to find Rowan-Willow. And keep an eye out for any fighters not in livery that don’t look like complete cutthroats.”
“I found them.” Nian stated confidently and, clapping his friend on the shoulder, strode down the street toward the crowded tavern. Kolel huffed in confusion and trotted after Nian. As the approached the crowd near the door, a spectator at the edge leapt to one side to avoid the flying form of a large, bearded man as he came crashing through the front doorway. The spectator laughed tauntingly at the fallen man before he looked up with his one good eye to see Nian rapidly approaching. The man with the eye-patch held forth his hands in greeting as he stepped to meet the boy.
“The good innkeep! It was Knee something or other wasn’t it? You’ve come a long way to chastise us for missing your sister’s wedding. Were it my choice, we would have stayed I assure you, I’d take another glass of that mead over all the swill this place has got!”
Nian clasped the man’s wrist though his smile faded a bit at mention of the wedding. “It’s Nian. But there was no wedding, Dale. I need to hire you.”
“Now Nian.” Dale chuckled, “I know you take your family seriously, but sending hired blades after a chap for getting cold feet is a bit extreme. Besides, we have a task already at hand. Marching at dawn, in fact.”
Nian did his best to keep his temper. He could see that Dale was at least a few cups in, and he also knew that under other circumstances, he might even find the old merc’s jests humorous. He grasped Dale’s shoulder to try and hold his attention.
“I’m serious, Dale. It’s slavers. They came a few hours after you departed and made off with most of the wedding party, my sister included.” Nian drew out the satin purse and gave it a shake. “I can pay now, and I know you haven’t been paid for this yet.”
Dale finally seemed to take the boy seriously and sobered a bit, “Ah, I see. Nian, it’s not quite that simple, not with a wolf pack. I’ll see what I can-lookout!”
Dale grabbed Nian by the arm and hauled him along as he stepped aside just in time to avoid the bearded man tumbling back through the doorway. The big fellow struggled to rise but collapsed, and over his heaving form, Nian saw Autumn downing a drink as she picked up her bow and blade from a nearby table, along with a stack of coins off its center.
“Come,” Dale kept hold of the boy’s arm as he stepped over the unconscious lout and into the bar. “I can get you a seat at the Alpha’s table, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“I shall find Rowan then,” Kolel called after the two as they vanished into the tavern. He then gave his pockets and belt a brief pat to ensure nothing had been picked in the raucous crowd before turning and heading for the gate.
Inside, Dale scooped up a half-drained pint of something foul-smelling and deposited it in Nian’s hand before leading him across the floor to a table with two occupants and the same number of empty chairs. Dale slid into one and gestured for Nian to follow suit. As he sat down, he nervously examined the two hosts at the table.
To Nian’s right was a tall, slender man with bristly, short hair and a scruffy beard of peppered black. He lounged back casually, gnawing upon what seemed to be a piece of gristle. The man wore a heavy leather jerkin with bands of steel running along its surface as reinforcement. A broad-headed spear leaned with a bundle of javelins upon the pillar behind him.
Across the table sat another human, not as tall as his companion, but whose presence made him seem somehow larger. The man’s long, dark-brown hair was swept back in a ponytail that showed streaks of grey running through it. His face was a dark, weathered bronze tone and told a story of old wounds and forgotten battlefields. The man wore a breastplate of well-made steel that showed a dozen or more places it had been hammered back into shape or had patches welded onto it. A heavy mantle of grey wolf fur hung over his back and one shoulder, bound by a brooch of knotted leather cord around a silver medallion much like Autumns, but rather than a bronze rim, it was unmistakably gold, and the face of the medallion bore a deep gouge from some lost blade. A heavy hand-and-a-half blade hung over the spindle of his chair back.
“Nian, this is Ulif,” Dale said, nodding to the spearman, “and Adair, our pack’s Alpha. Adair, Nian hoped to have a word about the pack.”
Nian started to speak, but suddenly became aware of a leather bodice that had drawn up alongside where he was seated. Looking up, his gaze was met by the golden eyes of Autumn, already looking down at him. After a moment, the Dryad turned and nodded to Adair.
“How fared your winnings?” He asked.
“Sixty copper bits and a silver tooth from our hairy friend.” Autumn replied, dumping a pile of coin upon the table topped with a silver nugget still glistening with fresh blood. “It’s enough to cover our tab through tonight.”
Dale leaned over to Nian and murmered, “Old Stoneface here had a few too many . . . suitors I guess you’d say. She agreed to sleep with the first man who could knock her down once before she felled him three times, but takers had to buy her a drink and pay five coppers each time they fell. Oh, and you’re in her chair.”
Nian blinked at Dale a moment before he registered the last of his statement. Then he shot out of his seat so quickly that he jostled into Autumn while standing solidly on her foot, depositing the little Dryad hard upon her rear on the straw floor. Nian stood petrified a moment before stepping back off of her foot and sheepishly sliding the chair toward her.
“Ah, I didn’t mean to. . .I was trying to give you back your seat.” Nian swallowed hard, trying desperately to think what Kolel’s diplomatic tongue would do in this instance. “Ah, Autumn, if you would not kill me for that, I’d consider you as generous as you are beautiful. . .m’lady.”
The mercenaries all erupted in laughter . . . all but Autumn, who stood and slid into her seat, all the while fixing Nian with an undiscernible expression on her face. Ulif the spearman was the first to regain a bit of composure.
“Kill you?” He said, “Boy, by the wager there’s something else entirely in store for you.”
Again, the table burst into laughter until Dale and Ulif were shedding tears. Autumn sat in silence and drummed her fingers upon the table. Nian stood awkwardly and wished nothing more than for a sinkhole to open beneath his feet. Finally, he cleared his throat to speak.
“I’ll pass.” He said simply. The table fell quiet, and all eyes, including Autumn’s seemed glued to him. “Ah. . .I don’t mean. . . that is, you’re plenty pretty an’ all but. . .” Nian’s mind raced for some way to salvage some tattered bit of dignity. “I . . . have business to attend and to be honest, I always imagined a different sort of winning y-a girl over.”
Nian found he almost wished the men to resume laughing at him, if only to break the silence. At last, Adair rescued him by speaking to Dale.
“You vouch for him?” The man’s voice was not powerful, but there was a calculating stillness behind it that raised the hackles on the back of Nian’s neck.
Dale nodded, “Aye, I do. He’s a good lad, and his business with you is earnest, though he’s been warned it may not bear fruit.”
“Well then,” Adair turned to face Nian, “What can the Longstriders do for you?”
“Well, I was hoping to hire you . . . that is,” Nian paused, struggling to collect his thoughts. The whole fiasco had thrown his mind into a blur. A part of him wondered if Autumn would have gone through with the wager and cursed the rest of him for not finding out. Either way, he was relatively certain that he’d crushed any hope of being taken seriously by either the mercenaries or Autumn, along with
her foot. Then Nian caught sight of Kolel and Rowan entering the tavern, and he hurriedly waved them over. The presence of his friends’ approach reassured him somewhat, and he turned back to Adair to continue.
“We, my friends and I, need help. Slavers attacked my home of Longmyst and took several prisoners, including my sister. They are trying to escape through the Lone Wood into Baeden. . .and there are too many for us, at least thirty.” Nian trailed off, but as he saw the Alpha begin to shake his head he quickly added, “I can pay, in advance!”
Nian drew out Ourei’s dark blue purse and dropped it on the table next to Autumn’s winnings. There was moment of pause among the mercenaries at seeing such a fine pouch deposited by a common boy. Kolel, having just drawn up at the table, softly cleared his throat and reached out, taking the purse and emptying its contents of two gold crowns and a handful of silver coins before pressing the empty sack back into Nian’s hands.
“Rule Five,” He murmured, “A gift from a lady, especially part of her attire, should be carried the next time you see her.”
“Nian,” Adair began apologetically, “I see your need, and normally, it’s a task my pack would leap to hire on with. We’ve no love for slavers and their ilk. However, we will have to decline. You see, all wolf packs answer to our elders . . . who largely leave us to our own devices, but will occasionally hand assignments to us. This particular job is one such summons. We and several other packs are expected to rally here.”
Nian sat in silence, utterly crushed. When Ourei had provided such a convenient path, it had felt like he really was destined to succeed, and seeing the mercenaries he had already met with had strengthened that thought. Now he had no idea what to do next.
“I am sorry, but there are limitations to how the wolves work. They keep us strong and alive. If you like, I would be happy to help you asses some other freelancers who-“ Adair paused when Autumn stood and silently rounded the table, leaning upon it with her back to the others. She rested her delicate hand on the Alpha’s forearm while the two had a brief conversation in low tones. After a moment, Adair nodded and the Dryad stepped around to stand at his shoulder.
“There is one alternative, Nian. We have some with us that we refer to as ‘cubs’. They’re seasoned fighters trying to earn a place in our pack. Some tag along for years before they can prove themselves. We have four with us at the moment, and as I said there are other packs here as well. I could speak with their Alphas about this idea of Autumn’s. Cubs are not actually part of the pack until they prove themselves, so while it is assumed they would come along with us, it isn’t required. Autumn suggested a wild run, they aren’t common but it has been done before.”
“What is that?” Rowan joined in, feeling like he had missed an awful lot fetching Tombo and the horse.
“A wild run is usually something we do at a moot, when there are dozens of packs present to speak to the elders. The Alphas agree on a test of some sort, often a job, and the cubs from all the packs go on the run, usually with a Beta of one pack along to vouch for them at the end. Those that survive and prove their worth on the run are welcomed into their pack as wolves on their return.” Adair turned back to Nian, reaching out and sliding one of the gold pieces off his small pile of coin. “So the offer is this, I set up a wild run to help you get men you can trust to go after the slavers, and we’ll take a gold piece for a prize cut to the best runner. The rest of that coin, you can use to get yourselves outfitted before you leave.”
Nian sat for a moment, unsure what to say. He looked to Rowan and Kolel, who seemed to like the idea. From her spot across the table, Autumn gave a brief smile and nodded, which made Nian smile brightly. He nodded eagerly.
“Yes, that sounds perfect.” Nian stood and scooped the rest of his coin back into his purse. “Ah, we’ll need through midday to get things ready. If the cubs can meet in front of the keep, Wizard Malor will be seeing us off.”
Dale let out a low whistle, “You stagger into town in rags, and in a single morning, produce gold from the purse of what is definitely a noblewoman’s, arrange a wild run, and have a wizard conscripted to your service? Nian, my boy, you are underused as an innkeep. You should be a general somewhere or an imperial agent.”
“Ah, thanks I suppose.” Nian nodded bashfully, “All I ever wanted was to run the inn. I’ll see your friends this afternoon. Oh, and something else. . .could one of you perhaps help me pick out a weapon? I have no idea what I’m looking at.”
“I will.” Autumn stated simply, walking around to the trio and nodding to the door before heading on past them.
Outside, the trio followed in tow of the Dryad who, despite standing a little shorter than Kolel, set a brisk pace toward the outer gate. Rowan trotted to catch up with her.
“Shouldn’t we head to the armory?” He asked.
“No,” She replied, matter-of-factly, “Tyrians raise good horses, the best for a thousand miles or more, but there’s almost no iron, and fewer skilled smiths. We’ll go to one of the larger camps outside. Mercenaries have to look to their own equipment and a decent sized group is likely to have a good reserve if not their own smith. Also, we’re more likely to find some good foreign steel rather than the bronze in the armory. You won’t have much chance to stop for repairs or replacement in the woods, so you want weapons that won’t let you down when it counts.”
“Oh.” Rowan nodded, walking in silence for a few steps. “So . . . how does a Dryad end up as a mercenary? I mean, everything I’ve heard, and those I’ve met, your kind never leave their grove, and aren’t suited to the shifting loyalties of a mercenary life.”
“My loyalties don’t shift. Twelve years ago, I was little more than a sapling, Adair saved my life and killed the men who burnt my home. Since then, I follow where he leads. My loyalty is to the man, not the coin. It probably also helps that my father was an elf.”
“An elf? So I guess you didn’t get any of his height.”
Autumn blinked at him with her expressionless face, “I suppose not.”
The two continued to talk as they passed through the heavy oaken gate. Kolel took the opportunity to pull on Nian’s arm like the reigns of his horse, falling back a few strides.
“Nian, have you had much experience with romance?” He asked softly, and when he noted Nian’s puzzled look, he elaborated, “Have you had a girl before, perhaps a comely lass back in Longmyst?”
Nian shook his head, “Not much. . .well none really. Why?”
“Well, my friend, I ask because you seem to be playing a very dangerous game.” He nodded ahead at Autumn, “I noted you managed to fetch a smile from the Fae up there a moment ago in the tavern, and you were quite free with your compliments speaking with Lady Ourei.”
“That hardly means anything, people smile all the time for all kinds of reasons. And with Ourei, I was just saying what you told me to say.”
“Ah, you improvised a good deal, my friend. And moreover, I had no idea you had already made the acquaintance of Miss Autumn.” Kolel released Nian’s arm and walked a few steps before adding, “And most people smile on a whim, Dryads do not. Their skin is smooth like yours, but much tougher, and so they do not naturally make facial expressions, it makes them quite difficult to read during trade deals or a game of cards. But more to the point, my friend, if she smiled at you it was quite deliberate.”
“So, what’s so bad about that?”
“Alone? Not a thing. I would say best of luck to you and be done with it.” Kolel clicked his tongue, “But do you remember when I compared Creation to a woman? Another parallel is that they can be horrifyingly violent when provoked; and there are few better ways to provoke a woman than to toy with her heart. You, my friend, have turned the head of one woman who commands great wealth and holds a high station, and another who is an accomplished killer.”
Nian walked in silence for a bit before finally speaking, “I’m a dead man, aren
’t I?”
“We’ll see.” Kolel chuckled, “After all, Kadia is hardly done with you yet, so you have some time at least. I just thought you should be aware of the lay of the land, so to speak. I would advise treading carefully, as well as deciding what you are doing. Enough, we are being summoned.”
Nian looked ahead to see that Autumn and Rowan had stopped in front of a large collection of pavilions and his verdant friend was beckoning them over. As they approached, the Dryad suddenly closed the ground between them and gave Nian a violent shove to the chest. Nian stumbled back a step before righting himself.
“Good, you do have excellent balance.” She eyed him up and down, “I had hoped it wasn’t a fluke when Turev tried to toss you on the grass and you kept your feet. Balance is life in a fight.”
“Uh, yeah, when you’re climbing too.” Nian laughed nervously, “I climbed every inch of the cliffs along Longmyst Lake.”
“It seems to have kept you in decent shape. I think a sword, and a shield, you’ll need the help blocking.”
Autumn lead them to three different camps before they found what she was looking for; a group of mercenaries from the Tarnigne Badlands with an ample stock of steel weapons. She selected a Njord-make broadsword and round shield for Nian, and while Kolel’s fencing blade was of the finest steel along the Mythril Coast, she insisted that Rowan replace his stone-tipped hunting spear with a short fighting lance with a sturdy ebony shaft and tri-bladed tip.
“It leaves a wound no medic can bind without the aid of magic.” She explained.
After their weapons were seen to, Autumn accompanied them to the keep’s outfitters. There, in addition to some basic equipment for weapon care and studded jerkins for the two boys, she insisted upon replacing Nian’s tattered and bloody clothes with sturdy travelling garb. As she stood back and admired her work, Nian fidgeted and scratched at the woolen trousers and hooded cloak. Even the soft cotton shirt was uncomfortably bound against him by the thick leather jerkin.
