by V C Sanford
“I could use a break myself.” He put aside the book he’d been thumbing thru, stretched and reached for his boots. “How about that new dance hall…the one just off the square? I hear they serve a killer Briar-berry wine. It’d be a welcome change after all the watered-down ale I’ve suffered through lately.”
“You didn’t seem to suffer too much, considering how much of it you drank. I’ll tell Addie where we are going in case the girls come by. Meet you downstairs.”
The two young men walked quickly, eager now that they were out of the inn and on the way to new adventures. The first sun had set and the second was sinking toward the horizon, surrounding everything with a rosy twilight glow. There were plenty of everyday inhabitants to gawk at, along with one or two who were just starting their nightly business. Alex laughed as a particularly long-legged courtesan was whipped around by a sudden burst of wind, bringing howls of laughter from two girls working a corner nearby. She cursed them both soundly, brushed the icy slush off her smock, and moved to a more sheltered alcove. He noted the location, frequenting bars and brothels was an essential part of their lifestyle. A mug of Duaar ale and a three qip coin girl could solve many a problem. Neither cared who you were or what you did if your gold held out. His thoughts trailed off as Maxx suddenly staggered into a pole, then grabbed it and slid down toward the ground, until he was sitting on the curb of the cobbled street. Startled, Alex stopped walking and turned back toward his longtime friend, unsure what had caused him to act so oddly.
“Starting a little early tonight, huh? Usually, you wait until after a few drinks to fall down.” He offered his hand for support. Maxx wavered as he stood, using the pole for support and pulling Alex close, weaving and swaying as though he could barely stand.
“I’m not sure, but I think someone’s following us,” he hissed thru clenched teeth. “After what happened down by the dock I’m not taking any chances. If he thinks I’m drunk, it might make him a bit careless. Keep your eyes open to the right and I’ll check out the left. That way if it’s a trap, we’re ready for it.”
Maxx had a sixth sense about things that never failed to surprise him. If he said they were being followed, they were. He allowed his gaze to travel to the opening of a nearby alley, noting a water barrel and a door propped open for air to enter. The narrow alley continued onward until it ended in a high stone fence with an elaborately carved gate covered by a decorative metal grille. There was no obvious place that anyone could be hiding. He turned abruptly, hoping to spot the man but there was no one in sight.
********
The Dancers Veil, though newer, was identical to pubs the boys had frequented in countless seaports. A recently painted sign hung over swinging doors still glistening with new paint, brightly colored letters spelling out the Taverns name. Overhead was a painting of a striking woman, her torn veil offering a hint of her ‘come hither’ smile. Stepping aside to allow two working girls and their escorts to leave, Maxx paused for a moment in the shadows of the doorway and then beckoned to Alex to enter before him.
“You go on ahead, I want to give our shadow a chance to show again. I promise to behave.” He lounged against a hitching post outside the light, the shadows deep enough that he could see the door, but no one could see him. From the corner of his eye, Alex saw him bend over a nearby gutter, followed by a retching hack and a series of coughs. He grinned. Maxx had plenty of experience to draw from. If he wanted someone to think he was drunk, then that’s what everyone would think.
Whistling a soft all clear, Alex pushed the swinging doors open and entered the noisy bar. Two or three customers glanced his way as he entered but no one seemed to be particularly interested in him. It wasn’t anything like the Silver Slipper, no sawdust on the floor, nor was the air heavy with the smell of last night’s swill, however, it wasn’t exactly the dark wood paneling and crystal chandeliers of the Golden Chalice either. The owners picked function over aesthetics when they built the L- shaped bar that ran the length of the main room. The mahogany counter already showed pits and burn marks from inebriated customers missing the ash buckets scattered along its length.
Little attempt at decoration had been made, the one exception being the heavy velvet drapery that almost succeeded in drawing your eyes away from the cheap pine tables and chairs. Bought second hand, the well-worn burgundy color hadn’t faded enough to disguise the coat of arms of the late Earl of Scallrock woven into the cloth. The small wooden tables were scattered randomly around the room, spaced far enough apart for conversations to remain private. The stale air smelled of people who spent their days at work and their nights forgetting their days, the musky scent of the too long unwashed, mixed with the odor of cheap sour mash, pipeweed, and overly perfumed women. All in all, it was a pleasant surprise.
Pleased with his choice he picked a table in a quiet out of the way corner. He received the usual once-over as he crossed the room but nothing out of the ordinary. Whenever a stranger entered Maggie’s place, one of the regulars would come over, and generally, size him up with some casual conversation and one or two pointed questions. He couldn’t tell if the overt lack of interest displayed by the Dancers Veil’s patrons was a good thing or a sign that trouble would be coming sooner than he’d expected.
For a split second, he was certain he was being watched. Cautiously he studied the crowd, finally lingering on a petite blonde-haired wench perched on the knee of one of the more affluent looking customers. She kept glancing his way from time to time, offering a shy smile that hinted at very pleasant possibilities. His interest piqued, Alex returned her looks, wishing he had more time to delve into the secrets hidden in her eyes. She managed to keep her expression blank as she ignored the way he was studying her. Then, with a little laugh, her cheeks flushed as she realized he knew exactly what she was doing… and why.
A sassy young waitress with perky breasts and a saucy manner sat down at the table beside him. She propped her head on her crossed hands looking him directly in his eyes. Alex caught a glimpse of one pink tinged nipple before she shifted her body out of the candles dim glow. Interesting--- and what he couldn’t see was even more intriguing, stealing his interest away from the little redhead completely. He took in her tiny five-foot frame, a fun-sized temptation with golden hair, cornflower blue eyes and lips that were made for kissing. He sighed deeply--- beautiful women were his weakness, one he fully recognized. However, the girls would be joining them shortly and he was certain Nikiva would not appreciate her assets the way he did.
“Two coppers for sour mash, three for ale or spiced wine. I’m Carmen, what can I get you?”
“Filburr’s Berry Blend…for two.” He smiled as she hurried off to get it. Most females flinched at his scar, so he’d enjoy this rare opportunity to flirt with a pretty girl. From the small leather bag at his waist he pulled out a handful of coins, counting out the six needed plus one extra for the waitress. He thought about teasing the barmaid a bit, making her search for the coins, then sighed and placed them on the tabletop. No use thinking about what wasn’t going to happen.
Carmen returned with two goblets of the plum red brandy, somehow managing to place them on the table with one hand as she swept up the coins with the other. She ‘accidentally’ allowed him a quick peek at the scattered freckles that dusted her outstanding breasts. He decided to keep that in mind for later.
“Is there anything else I can offer you?”
“Not now, …” he let his answer trail off enough to keep her interested.
He wondered if he should offer assistance to the blonde- haired wench. She struggled to get away from her customer, who appeared to have drunk too much beer in too short a time. Then she laughed and poured a mug of sour mash over the young man’s head, after which she kissed him soundly on the lips. From his reaction, it was obvious that this wasn’t the first time she’d done this. Relaxing, Alex sat back more comfortably, and then reached slowly into his vest.
“No weapons allowed without a peace bond,�
� Carmen called out, “only wish I’d a way to enforce it. Of course, I could pat you down.” Her eyes traveled slowly down his body.
Alex played along, enjoying the easy banter. “Only one weapon I’d pull on you. But if you insist on a strip search I won’t resist.” He opened his hand to display the contents, a hand-carved burl-wood pipe and a leather packet of pipeweed. He reached into his vest a second time and removed a wooden match, casually struck it on his boot, then cupping his pipe with his empty hand, put the flame to his pipeweed and took a long slow draw. Content, he leaned back in his chair, letting it rest against the back wall. Maxx was missing out on an exceptional brew.
His eyes made a circuit of the room, registering in his mind the location of every occupant. One thing he’d learned early in life, you could never be too careful. The red-haired wench had changed her target, now she was flirting with an older Bezonite who seemed more interested in playing cards with two men wearing the uniforms of the city watch, than playing with her. Two tables away was a burly man wearing leathers, maybe a very tall Caldarean, or a short Misoot. That blue-black was a distinctive hair coloring. Two young Zarrni warriors, still wearing long white thobes, loose sleeveless striped sidriyeh waistcoats, and distinctive kufiyahs sat near the rear exit. He noticed that though both men were dressed similarly, the agal of the younger one was woven with threads of gold and scarlet. Wonder what brings desert royalty so far from home?
“I like this place. Is it always like this?”
Carmen wrinkled her nose. “With the festival going on, the town is full of strangers. But today’s the last day so it should calm down tomorrow. Those four, she nodded at the card table, play here every night. Or every night Tucker is out ah’ jail. Ol’ Pin sleeps here more often than he goes home, to hear his wife talk anyway. That bunch, she waved her hand toward several young men flirting with the other barmaid, is from the Mage School. The only problem with them is their coins have been known to vanish after they leave for the evening. Those two are new, she added, pointing toward the table where the two desert tribesmen were now talking to another young man, ‘cept I heard one say they were waiting on a cousin.”
Alex tensed at the jingle of a small bell as Maxx staggered through the doors. He made his way to the bar and ordered a drink in a loud voice, ignoring Alex completely. Something wasn’t right.
Alex decided to improvise. He whispered something to Carmen that caused the attractive barmaid to gasp and slap him lightly on the cheek. Her action allowed his gaze to move slowly across the dark room. Nothing seemed unusual. Then he noticed that the card game had broken up, everyone was anxiously collecting their winnings and preparing to leave. Drasst, not again. He tapped his pipe against the rim of his mug, watched the ashes fall into the tepid brew, then put his pipe back into his vest pocket. Swallowing the last of his brandy, he set the now empty goblet on the table. Better to leave and meet the girls somewhere else. Then three men entered the bar, their appearance justifying Maxx’s strange behavior.
The first two were hulking brutes wearing mismatched boiled leather armor and carrying knives darkened by soot. They walked side by side as they passed through the swinging doors. Immediately they separated, moving to either side of the entrance before stopping. A third, much smaller man stopped just inside the doors. Even though his face was hidden by shadows Alex immediately realized he was the most dangerous of the trio. From the corner of his eye, he spotted two others as they entered from the rear, pushing aside the beaded curtains hiding the doorway. It was clear these men had experience working as a team as they entered back to back, instead of side by side. One was tall and slim, carrying a well-used set of matching glaives. He held them ready to use. His partner was shorter and heavier with a hangdog face, not even a mother could love. An Orrogg axe fighter, he wore a bandoleer across his chest designed to hold additional blades close at hand. Like the first two men, they continued to wait silently.
He concentrated on the first trio after deciding the distance across the crowded room was too far for the men at the back to pose an immediate threat. Cautiously he untied the peace knot wrapped around the pommel of his sword and waited.
The leader ignored the remaining patrons, walking directly to his table. “Are you Alex Baldric?”
“I am.” He braced for any sudden moves but when the response came it wasn’t what he’d expected.
“I have a message for you.” He handed him the rolled white missive, turned and walked out of the bar. Alex noticed it was sealed with wax and embossed with the emblem of Hyperion. It seemed innocent enough, except his eyes kept straying toward Maxx. He was about to read it when he spotted Nikiva and Rhianwen passing through the swinging doors.
Time slowed as everyone reacted. Rhianwen caught a glimpse of the man to the right of the door as he raised a hand-held crossbow and pointed it at Maxx.
“Look out Maxx!” She kicked a small keg placed beside the door for ashes. The heavy barrel crashed into the archer’s knees just as the crossbow bolt was released, causing it to veer just off target. The bolt came to rest in the wall about a foot above the heads of the two desert nomads. With nothing else to slow its forward motion, the heavy keg continued across the room until it came to rest against the far wall, leaving a trail of ashes across the floor and making it difficult to walk much less maneuver with any speed.
Rheaaz forgive me!! Rhianwen ducked, somehow managing to avoid the heavy crossbow swung by the irritated bowman. Spotting a nearby table, she overturned it and ducked behind, dragging Nikiva with her. Her entire body shook as adrenaline coursed through her body. This was great! Instinctively she palmed her small throwing knives in case she’d another opportunity to help.
Nikiva took longer to react. She didn’t know that many offensive spells, her options were mostly defensive. Calmly she gathered a few spell components from the bag she carried at her waist and then began a series of complex passes while chanting the words of a spell.
Alerted by Rhianwens cry, Maxx turned his head in time to see the Orrogg running toward him, swinging the heavy blade as though he were playing with a child’s toy. Instinctively he dropped to the floor. Even so, the wind from the swing kissed his cheek, and he silently thanked Rhianwen for the warning. The taller assailant was thrown off balance by the missed strike, allowing Maxx time to move. He began crawling toward the open floor in front of the now empty bards stand. Then the air shimmered and Maxx disappeared.
The Orrogg began cussing vehemently at anyone who dared to look his way. Enraged by his quarries escape attempt he started swinging wildly in hopes of a lucky hit. Chips and flakes of wood flew all around as he chopped his way through two chairs and a solid wood table.
Alex glimpsed the purposeful motion of Nikiva hands as she cast another spell. He braced himself, waiting. He was almost as surprised as Nikiva when nothing happened.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t wait for another attempt. Evidently, the two men by the main door had decided to help search, they were edging closer to the bar, thrusting randomly in hopes of striking the elusive Duaar.
Maxx crouched before the bar waiting for an opportunity to help. He realized he’d need to take out the big man before he accidentally landed a lucky blow. He drew a throwing knife, shiny and lean as a stiletto, then cocked his arm and threw the blade. The knife struck the Orrogg low in the abdomen driving him to his knees. A second knife followed the first, hitting the brute in the chest, ending the fight.
Immediately Alex turned to face the two men who had joined the hunt---only to discover them kneeling side by side---the blades of the two unknown nomads resting against the back of their necks. The skinny man carrying the glaive was gone. Scattered shouts and the rattle of armor drawing closer alerted everyone that the city watch was finally responding to reports of the brawl.
The nomads removed their blades, allowing the embarrassed men an opportunity to leave. Surprised, but grateful for the reprieve, they backed, still on their knees into the hallway and vanished.
/> “It might be a good idea for us to disappear too. It might be a bit difficult to explain the body.” He pointed to the rear exit.
“Nikiva, I got to admit it, making me invisible was brilliant. But isn’t the spell usually broken once I attack anyone? How’d you manage to keep me invisible?”
“I honestly don’t know, I’ve never tried it before.”
“So how long will I stay this way,” Maxx inquired nervously.
Both girls started giggling but neither answered.
Chapter 9
“Yeowwwww----Oh! Oh! Oh!” Alex jerked his foot off the angry Mir-cat’s tail, wincing as razor sharp claws dug into his calf. The rampaging feline took off, flying beneath the belly of a young palfrey tied for tacking, before darting down the barn aisle. Startled, the mare reared, her right hoof striking Alex on his forehead, the iron shoe slicing deep into the tender flesh. Blood running down his brow from the cut over his one good eye made it extremely difficult to tell which of the two horses was real--- and which the result of double vision. His foot landed in a water bucket as he stepped backward to avoid the excited mare. The horse, sensing an imminent victory over the man, threw her weight forward pulling Alex further off balance. He clutched at the side of the stall, missed and fell forward, losing his hold on the reins. Seconds later he was face down in the mud and she was trotting back into her warm stall.
Nikiva covered her mouth with her kerchief to prevent the smile she was covering from being so obvious. Maxx wasn’t quite so considerate. His loud braying laugh rang across the courtyard. Even the frosty glare he received from the portly matron who waiting for her horse couldn’t dampen his pleasure.
“Do you need me to get the big bad horsy for you?” He jumped back to avoid the fist that Alex swung halfheartedly at his head. Nikiva couldn’t control herself any longer. She began giggling--- then laughing, as the bloody, mud-covered man stomped back into the barn after the unwilling mare.
