by V C Sanford
“I’m looking for my father Maggie.”
“He with you?” she asked, looking across the room at Maxx, who was now stretched out on the bench, his head resting on his ships bag.
Alex nodded.
“Then get your friend.”
Alex could tell from her expression it wasn’t going to be good news, but any information would help. A lot had changed in Cabrell, most apparent, the absence of street vendors and beggars around the city that had once been the main supply lines for gossip and information.
He whistled once sharply to get Maxx’s attention. Maxx sat up abruptly, his hand moving toward a well-used axe lying nearby. Once he realized Alex was not in trouble, he calmed, got slowly to his feet and made his way through the tangle of tables to join his friend at the bar. Green eyes narrowed slightly as Maggie reached up to a shelf overhead, but he relaxed as she grabbed two clay mugs, filled them with a foamy amber mix, and then sat them on the bar in front of them, removing the rotgut and dumping it back into a keg standing nearby.
“Better ta drink up boys, ya ain’t gonna like hear’n this.” She waited until both had swallowed a few mouthfuls, then poured their mugs full again. “Your father’s dead now--- gone three years. The watch found him in his bed---or at least what was left of him---the house picked clean by thieves. Ain’t seen a sign of your brothers since right after you took off. No use in going back home, what was left of the house caught fire and burned soon after he died.”
Alex swept Maxx’s face seeking advice, but his friend merely shook his head, not willing to offer an opinion without knowing more about the situation. Unsure what this news would mean to his plans, Alex took a long sip from the brimming mug and gathered his thoughts. Another woman might be taken aback by his lack of immediate response, however, his aunt had years of practice in dealing with drunken alcoholics, his little delay in answering would not raise an eyebrow.
“You know who did it?” he asked after pondering a moment.
Maggie’s face furrowed as if she’d eaten something sour. “Rumor has it he crossed Samsara. I know Castillo was looking for him about that time. But I don’t buy it. Samsara’s too flamboyant. He likes to make a public spectacle out of anyone dumb enough to cross him. Says it keeps order. Simply killing him and burning the house doesn’t fit his protocol, no ceremony, no lesson. Truth be told, most people around here don’t want to know what happened to your father---or who did it. The least known, the safer they feel. Things ain’t like they used to be. Samsara’s got big dreams, once he got control, he expanded his interests from petty thievery to politics. Don’t know how he did it, maybe blackmail or bribery. Either way, he now runs the city. Not that his lordship the mayor and his cronies don’t do everything they can to line their own pockets Between the two of them, most of the smaller businesses are just skimping by, praying we make enough to stay in business.
Maggie looked around the room and noticed that a few of her regulars were missing. “Gossip says your uncle was asking after you about that time. He’s Lord Baldric now--made it big in the shipping business and bought the title. Your uncles offered a big reward for information leading to your whereabouts. Bet there’s two or three knocking on the back door of his mansion as we speak.” She sighed. “Gonna be big trouble for me once Samsara hears tell I helped you instead of sending word to Castillo. But you’re my nephew and blood is blood.”
She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts and then nodded sympathetically.
“You might try old Mathias. He knows a lot of things about a lot of people… she cracked a toothless grin and continued, …if you can get him sober enough to talk.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Alex asked forthrightly.
Maggie didn’t try to pretend she’d no idea what he was asking. She smiled, briefly allowing him a glimpse of the blackened remains of her once pearly white teeth. “Taint nothing ya kin catch, so don’t be worryin’. Old age and wild living ‘ave caught up with me. The healers say ain’t no cure, not that I can afford ta pay one anyways.”
“Shii?”
“Boy, the Shii-Lakka care for the rich and entitled. Not the likes o’ me.” Her eyes were constantly moving, scanning the bar as she talked. Momentarily they darkened, then the sparkle was back.
Alex followed her gaze across the crowded room, finding only dark glares and silence. A few of the sharper clientele were pointedly clearing up their business and making an obvious move to leave the premises. “Like rats from a sinking ship,” he thought, as two brightly painted coin girls gathered their things and left through the door without customers. This alone would have been enough warning to signal something bad was coming…Soon.
Though nothing usually upset her, Maggie was alarmed at the rapid desertion of her regular patrons. “Troubles coming, time for you boys to go,” she said slowly, her voice little more than a whisper. She opened a latched gate at the end of the bar that acted as a barricade against drunken customers before addressing the barmaid who hovered nearby. “Belle, take over here and make sure nothing wanders off.”
Maggie turned back to the boys, “Don’t let that goofy grin fool you, nothing gets by Belle. Took her a while to get the insipid look right, but now she’s got most of the watch completely fooled. If anyone comes by looking for you, she’ll stall ‘em as long as she can. You boys get yer things now and come on into the kitchen with me. Best I slip you out the back way. Go down through the alley to the market, with luck, you might lose them in the crowds.”
Shouldering their packs, they followed Maggie through the swinging doorway into a surprisingly clean and well-stocked kitchen. Alex couldn’t help watching over his shoulder as Maggie unbarred the back door and motioned them outside. Maxx let his eyes drift to a tray of hot buttered scones he noted on a warming stand near the hearth, his growling stomach reminding him it was long past dinner. Maggie failed to offer the tempting repast and they didn’t have time to debate the issue, so he kept his mouth shut and suffered in silence.
Behind the building was a small grassy courtyard surrounded by a high wooden fence. Slipping quietly through the dark, Alex put his hands on the top of the slats and felt no broken glass or nails.
“Feels clear, you go first,” he whispered.
“Give me a bootup,” Maxx grunted to his much taller companion. He was already regretting his missed dinner and the haunting odor of freshly baked bread wafting through the open door only made it worse. Using Alex’s crossed hands as a step he managed to raise his stocky frame up and over the top.
Alex kissed his aunt lightly on her cheek, and then quickly clambered over the fence, dropping down to the ground beside his friend only to have his feet slip in the muck. His arms wind-milled wildly as he unsuccessfully fought for balance, before landing on his backside and startling some feral neighborhood cats that were searching the rubbish piled outside. Screeching loudly, they defended their territory with claws and teeth before disappearing into the nearby shadows.
“Stop playing with the drassted cats. I don’t know why I bothered whispering when you make enough noise to wake the dead,” Maxx jibed, pleased with the opportunity to deliver the one-liner. Cackling like a hen, he pulled Alex back to his feet.
“Stop giggling like a moron, it wasn’t that funny. Shut up and let’s get going.”
********
Rhianwen is going to be furious. The crowds around the market are ridiculous today. Nikiva cautiously wove her way through revelers intent on enjoying the harvest festival. Catching a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye, she hastily stepped backward to avoid crashing into two heavyset women coming out of a clothing shop, their arms piled high with packages. A more pragmatic person would have kept walking without consideration. It was as much her right to be on the street as it was theirs, and Rhianwen was waiting. But the way her luck was running the two women would be married to highly placed school officials, maybe even one of her own instructors.
“Best to be safe than sorry… Hope Rh
ianwen feels the same.” She paused to consider her options for a moment. Her basket held the basics but there was nothing in it that would soothe her best friends wounded feelings, especially since Tweet’s teeth marks eliminated any chance the Shii-Lakka maid would partake of the cheese or chicken. The frosted cake was untouched, and the bread and honey, but there wasn’t enough food remaining for one, much less two hungry girls. “I’ll stop in the market and pick up a few special things. It’s not really out of my way and I’m already late.”
Brightly decorated food stalls and booths lined both sides of the busy market street in celebration of the ongoing Harvest Festival. Nikiva was drawn in several directions--- the enticing smells of freshly baked bread, hot roast mutton dripping over coals, meat pies and fruit pastry all making her mouth water. She chose a stall she often frequented, ordering one of Rhianwens’ favorite dishes ---sliced mutton in a spicy sauce cooked with chopped nuts and mushrooms. A sweet vendor nearby provided a sack of sugared figs and dates for dessert. Tweet must have tired of shopping. He vanished on one of his jaunts, probably looking for an open window facing someone’s kitchen or larder. Nikiva grimaced, remembering the last time the unruly Mir cub had gone scavenging, helping himself to a link of blood-sausages hanging in butchers’ window. That little escapade had cost her several days of hard labor as well as an entire week’s stipend. He’d show up later and finish off anything leftover.
Spying a busy bake shop, she hesitated for a moment. Rhianwen loved the sweet sticky buns with white icing. After paying out the last few of her coins, she was finally satisfied with her small repast. She placed her purchases into her basket along with the food she’d brought from the school. Now, it would be enough for both Rhianwen and for her to enjoy. And maybe Rhianwen won’t be quite so annoyed…
Chapter 4
Alex fell heavily against the wall of a sadly neglected wooden building, taking advantage of the cover provided by a half-collapsed awning to catch his breath. Despite the uproar from the crowds gathered in the market nearby, he was certain each raspy inhalation was loud enough to draw the searchers attention directly to their current position. Maxx’s breathing was worse. The two friends had been running nonstop since leaving Maggie’s Tavern, down back alleys and dark streets, using buildings, trees and other objects in hopes of avoiding capture by the men following close behind. He listened, studying the people nearby. If anyone was interested, they were good enough to hide it. For the moment they were safe.
Alex was worried about Maxx. The Duaar was great in a fight, but running… After ten years aboard a ship even walking on a flat surface was difficult for him. He needed a place to rest.
“How’d we manage to get the city watch on our trail?”
“I guess all ---the noise you made--- playing with the drassted cat.”
“Haw. Haw! So now it’s against the law to play?”
“Who knows--- maybe thieves--- have been working-- the area. The watch -----might think—we’re working ---with them. Not--- that there’s ---anything worth--- stealing back there.”
“Musta heard you were looking for a date,” Alex fired back. Tired or not, he hated to waste any opportunity to get one over on the arrogant ex-marine.
“Ain’t it nice--- to be popular?” Maxx offered with a wry grin, refusing to take the bait.
“Just shut up and run,” Alex called back over his shoulder.
Maxx didn’t bother to reply.
******** “Yaaga blast you all to the Nine Realms! If they get away, it won’t be your jobs you’ll be losing. You men cover that side, the rest take this one. They’re heading for the market. Cut them off before they reach the festival crowds.” After affirming that for once his orders were being followed, Prefect Aku-Ballar paused to wipe his forehead and take a sip of water. Over an hour had been wasted chasing the young men and he still had no idea why they were wanted. Standing orders were to bring in the tall man with the scar and his Duaar friend, or else. It was the “or else” that worried him, as he’d received his own stripes after his last commander had failed to act in accordance with a similarly worded request. Resigned to a few more hours of pointless searching, he sighed deeply and resumed the chase.
He was getting too old for this kind of thing. He should retire. Unfortunately, the desk jobs offered to the officers of the city watch were expensive to obtain, … much too expensive for a middle-aged letch with a young and quite expensive mistress. Only last night he’d noticed her eyes traveling to a younger, much more handsome, cadet. Once his gold was gone, she too would become a pleasant memory.
********
After following the distant sounds of drums and flutes, Maxx and Alex turned the corner that brought them into sight of the Harvest Bazaar. Colorful banners hung from poles, dancing in the flickering light of the torches that burned at almost every stall. Revelers of all races could be seen in the crowded lanes. Despite the danger, both boys paused to watch three scantily clad maidens with bells on their ankles swaying provocatively before a colorfully dressed Ransooni. His fingers danced along the strings of a musical instrument neither boy recognized, the melody both haunting and provocative. Nearby, a stoic dusky skinned mercenary stood silent vigil over a jeweler’s stall, his eyes constantly moving as he attempted to keep watch on the milling crowds while guarding his employers stock against opportunistic thieves. He gave the two boys a once over before dismissing them as a prospective threat.
The crowds were thickest around the food stalls. Maxx motioned for Alex to work his way toward the busiest section of the bazaar hoping the spectators would hide them from view. At least for the moment, the desperate escape plan appeared to be working. The two groups chasing them kept getting in each other’s way, allowing the two boys some small glimmer of hope that they might get away among the milling populace.
Realizing that a chase was on---and who it was that was doing the chasing--- many of the shoppers, as well as quite a few merchants, turned their attention from haggling over gaudy merchandise to the entertainment in the street. Eagar to get some small amount of payback, many of the poorer citizens of Cabrell utilized any obstacle available to interfere with the pursuit. One or two of the smaller children began pelting the pursuers with discarded fruit and vegetables from the garbage piled nearby.
A scattered cheer rose up from the nearby market stalls as the harried teenagers barreled through a basket weaver’s booth, jumping from table to table to avoid the pursuers. The unfortunate proprietor’s merchandise rolled out into the street, further hampering the chase as the men in pursuit dodged awkwardly around the bulky baskets.
Hoping to cash in on the unique opportunity, a gaudily dressed Bezonite started taking bets, offering odds on the outcome of the hunt. There was intense speculation over which team would catch the erstwhile young men. Depending on the bets the odds changed constantly. This added to the confusion as some of the gamblers took the opportunity to hedge their bets by delaying the opposing team of pursuers as often as possible. Many others sought to slow the chase by misdirecting the pursuit, calling out false directions to the group they had bet against.
Utilizing the height of a nearby wagon, Prefect Aku-Ballar managed to detect Alex just as he made his desperate dash through the basket shop. He immediately began screaming out orders, using his sword to point out directions to his men. With faces down to protect them from the rotten produce, the soldiers made a halfhearted attempt to push their way through the throngs of shoppers. Their commanders bellowing only provoked the milling crowds into further turmoil, many ignoring the shouted orders to move out of their way. Only after the two escapees were once more out of sight did the jubilant gamblers move slowly to the sides of the street to allow the guards a clear path.
Less than a block separated Alex and Maxx from the pursuit when the two men finally dropped to the ground, exhausted, behind a vegetable vendor’s cart to once again gulp mouthfuls of air.
“Maxx, ---this isn’t ---working.” Now Alex was also straining to
catch his breath, his chest burning from the run, “let’s separate--- and try--- to lose them--- in the crowd.”
“We’ve--- got to try---something,” Maxx agreed between each ragged breath. “I can’t handle---this pace. We need--- to try something.” He hated running, his compact muscled body was built for stamina, not speed. His heart was pounding, his lungs ached, and the slight twinge in his side had developed into a series of sharp muscle spasms.
Alex realized he needed to buy some time for his exhausted friend. He studied the surrounding area, then a sly grin came across his face. “Maxx, I’m going to lead them away. Find someplace to lie low.”
“You know ---you can’t ---do anything ---without me.” Reluctantly he nodded agreement. He puckered up his lips and blew a kiss at his exhausted friend, overly exaggerating his action between gasps of air.
Despite his exhaustion, Alex laughed aloud at his friends’ antics before clutching his aching side. “Maxx, just go--- I can’t handle---any more pain.” Spotting an unguarded vendors cart filled with cabbages parked nearby, he gave it a push, trusting that the natural slope of the street would keep it moving. The unwieldy conveyance rolled true, bowling over several browsers gathered before a jewelry display before finally coming to a stop. Wedged between a fountain and the outside wall of a stone building, it effectively blocked the passageway --- and most of the city guard. A group of tradesmen intent on being among the first to inspect the newest offerings freshly offloaded from the Sea Wyvern immediately started pushing and shoving one another, blaming each other for the delay.
Vaulting upon the cart, Alex began hurling heads of cabbage, striking one pursuer in the side and another upon the head. Once he was satisfied he had their full attention he drew his sword, yelling aloud and waving it over his head to draw the notice of the remainder. His objective met, Alex ran, taunting the crowd and swinging his sword around his head wildly. To give Maxx as much time as possible he began tossing anything within reach, overturning stalls, large baskets of fruit and vegetables, and cages of live fowl behind him, furious vendors further slowing down the chase.
