“Lord Erizen will be pleased,” Orchid said happily.
And that reminded Esset: orders. She’d said she was here on orders. The “usual” orders. “So… what were Erizen’s ‘usual orders?’ You mentioned them earlier,” he asked delicately.
“We are underestimated,” Orchid replied readily—and proudly. “Being what we are. And our clever lord knows how best to use that, and us, to his advantage. He said, ‘Give him what he needs to see things my way.’ Normally that means we’re to bed his guest and then pillow talk them around to coming to the decision that our lord wants. But I was confused by what he said next: ‘Heads up, doll, he won’t bed you.’” She did a passable imitation of his drawl.
Esset couldn’t help but smile. He still didn’t like that she was being used as she was, but he could see her point of view, at least.
“But you… You’re different aren’t you? Very different from our lord’s usual guests. You don’t need sex and wiles… You just needed the truth.” There was just a hint of wonder in her gaze; it was that foreign a thing to her. She looked at him curiously.
“I’ve always been a believer in truth,” Esset admitted with irony.
“Well, Mr. Truthful, you sure you don’t want me to…hang around?” She rose fluidly and stepped in very close, making him once again draw back in surprise.
“That’s, uh, not necessary, no.” He was back to stammering again. Orchid clearly took delight in how easy it was to fluster him.
“That’s actually a pity. Like I said, you’re adorable.” Orchid brushed past him and opened the door. Her blue eyes glanced back at him one last time before she closed the door behind her.
Toman felt a bit of the tension drain from him as he peeled off his coat and hung it on the stand beside the door. Beneath the coat he wore an ordinary, brown, short-sleeved shirt, and of course, he kept on his gloves. He washed and slept with them on regularly anyways, but to take them off in the home of one who was a dubious ally at best—that would be foolish.
Spying a wash basin, Toman dumped the ready pitcher of water in and washed his face. When he was done, he patted his face dry with the small, plush towel left there for that purpose. Exhaling heavily, he buried his face in the soft towel for several long moments as he consciously relaxed his muscles, working his way through his neck muscles, down his shoulders, and into his arms. He was about to put the towel down when he thought he heard the door open.
There—a soft scuff on the floor betrayed the intruder’s presence. Toman didn’t even pause. His coat came to life next to the door, leaping at the intruder and wrapping the sleeves around her.
“Oh!” The exclamation was definitely feminine. When Toman laid eyes on her, his exhale was one of frustration. It was one of Erizen’s girls from the throne room: Orchid. She struggled weakly against the coat, unable to free herself and looking rather pathetic in her attempts. Toman made it release her and return to the hook by the door.
“You really ought to knock before entering. Orchid, right?” Toman asked, dropping the towel over the edge of the sink behind him.
“I am so sorry, my lord,” Orchid said, curtseying and eyeing the coat nervously yet. “I had no idea, I mean, I thought—”
Toman arched an eyebrow. “It’s quite all right. My abilities are completely under my control, and I have no reason to harm you,” he said to ease her fears. “And I’m no lord. Just Toman.”
Orchid visibly collected herself. “My apologies, sir. You are correct. I should have knocked. I have been sent here to serve you as you please.” Toman watched as Orchid consciously shifted her body language to something more demure.
Toman chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? You’re lovely, Orchid, but no thank you.” Orchid looked only slightly surprised—probably more by the nature of the refusal than the refusal itself. Far more than surprised, however, she looked intrigued.
“So you are like your partner, then?” Something suddenly seemed to occur to her. “You are not lovers, are you?”
Toman almost choked. “No, no, definitely not. Brightfire no. We’re best friends, brothers. We grew up together.”
“Huh. The last time two men rejected me in one night, they were partners in a far more intimate way than the way you and your partner are,” Orchid said.
“That’s, uh, very…informative, but no,” Toman reiterated. He couldn’t believe that this woman had managed to get him flustered. Although her precise timing had surprised him, he’d guessed that Erizen might try sending his women to them. Despite that foresight, she still had him off balance. It was…impressive.
“I apologize for the misconception,” Orchid said.
“I don’t think you’re sorry,” Toman said bluntly, his frankness surprising Orchid into looking him straight into the eye.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“I don’t think you’re sorry,” Toman repeated. “I think this has played out quite the way you planned. Your first reaction,” he pointed at his coat, “was quite genuine. I don’t think I’ve seen a genuine reaction since. You just came from visiting my brother, yes?”
“I don’t—”
Toman cut her off. “Yes?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she replied. There was no point in denying it.
“And your act was consistent with that. Nonetheless, I know Erizen sent you here to play us. He wants us to be assured of his…well, I don’t know what you’d call it exactly, but let’s just go with calling it his ‘good side.’ My brother is quick to judge, but I’ve seen more than that going on here. Erizen likes to play games and push buttons, and I get that too, but I don’t like being played. So, will you drop the act?”
“My lord, I’m sure—”
“I’m afraid you tipped your hand when you ‘misconstrued’ the relationship between my brother and me just now. That’s not a normal conclusion to jump to, and you immediately sought to justify your ‘mistake.’ The reason you pretended to make that mistake was to discomfit me and to put me in a space where it was easier for you to tell which of my reactions were real and which weren’t. Let me guess. Erizen uses you to assess how much of a threat we are, if at all, and whether we can be shaped to his ends—or at least used to his ends. Am I right?”
Orchid looked perplexed by his monologue. Either she was genuinely confused—he doubted it—or she was stalling as she debated internally whether to speak plainly. There was a third, more frightening option as well: it was possible that there were painful consequences for her having been caught, and trying to preserve her cover, no matter how flimsy it was, remained her only hope of saving herself. And if that were the case…
Occasionally Toman wished that his compassion wasn’t such a handicap sometimes. For if that were the case, he didn’t want to jeopardize her. He didn’t think Erizen would stoop to that, but on the other hand, he wasn’t confident that his educated guess on that front was accurate.
“Okay then,” Toman continued. “Now that we each know where the other stands, shall we continue our little charade?”
“I—” Orchid began.
“Don’t.” Toman stopped her with a shake of his head. “Unless you’re admitting something, just don’t.” Orchid’s silence spoke volumes, although the perplexed expression that she maintained kept her cover story consistent, at least.
“Okay then,” Toman said again. “Let’s pick up where we left off. Why don’t you tell me what you think will reassure me about your master?”
“Um… This is all very unusual…” Orchid stalled, looking at him strangely. She bought the time to gather her thoughts and then moved on, as he’d requested. “My lord Erizen did send me to you, of course, and I will admit that he wanted you to know the truth of his kingdom: that is, about the Greymaker and the true nature of his relationship with his people, and with the relationship with the other dark mage lords…” From there, she told Toman much the same information as she’d shared with Esset.
Toman paid attention, but he also mused that Esse
t had likely fallen for her act, at least partially. Esset was more book smart than he was, but when it came to people… Well, Toman was better at people.
“So, did you have an interesting visitor last night?” Toman asked Esset. He was sitting on the end of Esset’s bed as the latter shaved over a basin. Esset nearly nicked himself as he looked over sharply at his brother.
“I take it you did too?” he replied. Thankfully Toman had waited until he was almost done to bring this up, so Esset finished the last stroke and then began to wipe his face on a small towel.
“Orchid,” Toman said. Esset nodded, indicating his visitor was the same.
“Maybe Erizen isn’t as bad as we thought,” Esset said, hanging the towel on the edge of the basin.
“Maybe. But he’s very canny, and we both know we’re getting involved with someone who could be very, very dangerous to us.”
“Of course. But the sergeant made some very compelling arguments too.”
“So she did. Well, I guess nothing’s changed then. We’ve just confirmed what we already knew.”
Esset nodded his agreement to that statement.
“Shall we, then? I do believe we have an appointment with Lord Erizen this morning,” Toman added. He wore a grin, one with just a hint of cheekiness.
“We shall,” Esset agreed.
“Ah good, there you are,” Erizen said once Julliard had led them into the small study and left, closing the door behind him. “Don’t worry. You have my personal assurance that not a soul other than ourselves will be able to know anything that is said between we three for as long as that door is closed.” Erizen waved at the door Julliard had just departed through.
“That’s reassuring. Although our arrival wasn’t exactly a secret yesterday,” Esset pointed out. Erizen grinned a broad grin, a grin that suggested he found grinning at Esset’s statement particularly appropriate. Esset couldn’t help but scowl slightly at the response.
“Let me tell you what happened yesterday,” Erizen replied. “Yesterday, two colorless merchant’s sons arrived just as public audiences were ending, and they were enlisted into my castle guard. Registers show two new recruits today, and a count would confirm that. They are of your general description, and everyone knows that I interview each new member of my personal staff individually. So, no problems there. And as for our conversations, well, I keep very thorough sound-scrambling spells throughout all the rooms in my castle. Anyone hoping to eavesdrop would have failed horribly. See? No problems at all.”
“I hope so,” Esset conceded.
“I know so. Now, we need to discuss how you killed my neighbor, Lord Koris.” All the humor in Erizen’s eyes had vanished.
“He created the ‘dragon,’ and he was part of the threat against the village you asked us to protect. He is no longer a threat,” Toman replied.
“So it would seem,” Erizen said. “However, the council of dark lords maintains a balance that is precarious at best. In removing Koris, you have disrupted that balance. I believe I can maintain my own position despite that upset, but only because Koris was such a minor player. I would warn you against disrupting it again.” His voice had a threatening edge to it.
“I don’t see why you would be worried about that,” Toman said. “We would already have been far away from these kingdoms if you hadn’t called us back here.”
“Indeed.” After a pregnant pause, Erizen’s tone lightened. “I must admit, however, that I’m surprised you managed to kill Koris at all. He may not have been the strongest among us, but even the weakest dark mage lord here is a very formidable opponent, both in terms of strength and intellect. Otherwise he would not have been able to survive.”
We were surprised too, Toman thought, but he didn’t say it aloud. “We are formidable opponents ourselves,” he said instead.
Erizen looked him up and down. “Evidently.” The mage seemed to be considering another statement, and Toman was sure he knew they intended to take out Moloch too…eventually.
“Well then, it seems our business is concluded. I know these kingdoms must look rather tempting to a couple of heroes like you,” Erizen made “heroes” sound derogatory, “but as long as you leave well enough alone, we can remain friends. Perhaps we can even do business again in the future. Please, feel free to remain as my guests as long as you like, although I imagine you’ll be departing once night falls.”
Both Toman and Esset nodded.
“Excellent. Enjoy your day.” Erizen waved his hand and the door swung open. Toman and Esset took the hint and left, waiting until the door closed before speaking.
“He knows,” Esset said.
“Oh, definitely,” Toman agreed.
“I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Yup.”
“Two chicken pies!” Toman waved two fingers at The Staggering Tankard’s barkeep, who scowled at him—the waitress was the one who took food orders, not him. But the waitress was just coming out of the kitchen, and she smiled and waved an acknowledgement at Toman and then said something to the barkeep, making him smile.
“Hey boys,” Sergeant Warthog called from the back of the room. They went and joined her at her table.
“So how did it go?” she asked once they were sitting.
“Well, we killed the dragon—” Toman began, but Esset cut him off.
“It wasn’t a real—”
“We killed the not-dragon,” Toman amended. Esset frowned but let him continue this time. “And then we killed the mage that created the monster.”
Sergeant Warthog’s eyebrows flew up towards her hairline.
“We got lucky,” Toman said frankly. Just then their chicken pies arrived, and there was a brief silence as the two young men wolfed down their food quickly, as only young men could. Sergeant Warthog watched, her lips twisted in wry amusement, until Esset happened to glance up. He put down his fork with a sheepish face.
“Ah, yes. Well, after we killed the construct and the mage, we had to go to Erizen’s castle to pick up our payment. The visit was…interesting.” Esset and Toman exchanged a glance.
“You tell her,” Toman said. “You’re better at explaining things.”
Esset described the Greymaker and what little they knew of it, and he told her of the brief conversation they’d had with Erizen the morning they’d left.
“Well, that all but confirms that Erizen knows you two plan on tackling Moloch, but that’s hardly news. This whole thing was probably his way of taking your measure. He has a nice little setup for himself there, and he wants to know if you’re even capable of disrupting it. I’m guessing you put him off balance, killing that mage. We might yet have an ally in this fight against Moloch. Hopefully we do, because we don’t want an enemy.” Sergeant Warthog frowned then, but at Esset’s curious look, she gave a dismissive wave.
“Regardless, when we start gathering information on Moloch, we’ll want to get as much as we can independent of Erizen. That way we won’t have to put all our trust in him, we’ll know if he tries to play us, and even if all is well, he’ll be that much less likely to get caught as a traitor by the other dark lords,” she concluded.
“Do you know when we might start gathering information?” Toman asked, a bit guarded. She had said she’d help them when she thought they were ready, after all. And while they wouldn’t be able to walk up to Moloch’s front door and challenge him immediately, Toman thought they were at least nearing the point where they should be collecting resources and information to use against the evil mage.
Sergeant Warthog gave them both an appraising look. “We’ll see,” she said.
Toman was less than satisfied with the enigmatic response, but he hid the reaction as she continued.
“You know, if you want me to help you strategize fighting the most powerful mage in history, you might want to give me more detail about your battles so I can give you advice for future ones,” Sergeant Warthog remarked.
“Of course,” Esset said, and he launched into his
explanation.
Esset was yawning by the time he’d told the entire story and the sergeant was done analyzing it and sharing her advice.
“You boys get some sleep,” the sergeant said, stifling the yawn that rose in response to Esset’s. Toman didn’t bother trying to stop his yawn.
“Come around again midmorning, and I’ll probably have a job for you. I heard a merchant is due in first thing tomorrow, scouting for guards for a big caravan,” Sergeant Warthog told them.
“Speaking of yawning,” Esset muttered.
“Hey, I’d rather guard a boring merchant train than venture after more of those giant scorpions we eradicated last season,” Toman said. Esset shuddered.
“Dark caves, skittering feet, clacking pincers…” Esset shuddered again, harder this time. He didn’t look quite so sleepy anymore.
“I wouldn’t say no to driving off some bandits though,” Toman said hopefully.
“Or other, non-arachnid monsters,” Esset put in.
“It’s not like I create the jobs,” Sergeant Warthog said wryly. “I give you what comes along.”
“Merchant trains…” Esset muttered.
“Do you want the job?” the sergeant asked.
“Yes,” Toman said, shooting his brother a look.
“Yes,” Esset echoed obediently.
“Good. See you in the morning.”
“Thank goodness that’s over and done with. I swear, if she gets us one more job guarding a boring old merchant train…” Esset began as they walked up the front steps of the Staggering Tankard a couple weeks later.
“Oh, don’t start. At least these kinds of jobs are good money,” Toman retorted, shoving the door open with his shoulder and entering first.
“Yeah, but bor—” Esset ran smack into Toman’s back as he stopped abruptly in front of him.“Oof. Yoohoo.” Esset shoved his best friend to the side, then stopped to stare for a moment himself. To their credit, they didn’t stare long, but instead quickly continued on their way to report their latest mission to the sergeant.
As it turned out, Sergeant Warthog’s present company wasn’t of the usual variety. Toman and Esset were accustomed enough to seeing some non-humans; they’d fought plenty of vampires and undead, and they’d worked both alongside and against the Tahr, who were more bulls than men, and the Elth, the tall, slender folk with cat-eyes and pointed ears who preferred the company of nature to humans. Even so, neither of them had ever seen anyone like the snake-lady ahead of them now.
Calling On Fire (Book 1) Page 10
