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Back to the previous chapter: Journeys
Second Draft
Bilbus and Adria rode towards Saltcliffs. Bilbus had promised Adria a new dress, and she intended for him to keep the promise forthwith. Two of the six bolts of silk that they had recovered from the smugglers in the haunted house were strapped to Bilbus's horse, making it look more like a merchant's steed than a thief's fast getaway horse.
On the far side of town, past the Square Inn and town square, they found the modest shop of the town's seamstress.
A plain woman, well into her forties, was in the shop when Adria walked in. Adria had managed to establish a serene, cool, noble expression as she walked into the small, dusty shop. The expression was a sharp contrast to her dirty, bloodied, torn dress. Her expression lasted until Bilbus doggingly followed her into the building.
He spoke so quickly that he had no time to breathe. "Really, who are you? I've gotta know. You're not Isibeal the Knife, are you? Really, are you Ailis? I've heard she dresses as a noble. Must be the Dark One's own luck! Wait 'til I tell Twitchy that I met Ailis and lived to tell about it!"
Adria scowled. "Bilbus, shut up. You don't want the flies to get lost in that empty space behind your eyes."
Bilbus glared at Adria briefly, but shut his mouth as a red flush crept past his collar. The seamstress looked briefly at Bilbus before facing Adria.
"M'lady, what honor do you bestow upon me by gracing my modest shop?"
Bilbus quickly recovered his composure and stepped in front of Adria, flourishing slightly. "The Lady Adria del Quintin needs a new dress."
Looking suspiciously at Adria's ripped, dirty dress, the seamstress mumbled, "I can see that."
The con man ignored her comment. "We will supply the silk for the dress, and you may keep the scraps as payment."
"Let me see the silk, m'Lord," the seamstress demanded.
Bilbus walked quickly out to the horses. When he returned, he carried a bolt of silk under each arm, struggling to keep his balance. He dropped them unceremoniously on a large table in the seamstress's shop. She inspected the bolts before turning appreciatively to Adria.
"M'lady, I can make at least three fine dresses with this silk. Do you not wish for more than one?"
"I only have time for one. I need it ready in two days. If you have a split skirt I can use to cover my legs for the time being, I will gladly take it now."
"Certainly, my lady! Now, tell me the style of the dress, and I will take measurements. If you will follow me?"
The seamstress walked into a back room, shutting the door as soon as Adria was inside, blocking the thief from entering. Stymied, Bilbus rapped lightly on the door.
"Adria? Don't you think I should help? I won't look too closely!"
Silence was the answer. Bilbus kneeled and peered into the keyhole underneath the door handle. He growled when he realized it was blocked on the other side.
Grumbling to himself, the thief resigned to wait outside for the seamstress to finish her measurements.
Adria finally left the seamstress's shop twenty minutes later. Bilbus was idly walking laps around the horses when he noticed her. She wore a blouse and skirt with a bodice over the blouse. The material looked like a decent wool, nothing like the silk she normally wore. The skirt was also split for riding, Bilbus realized.
The noble assassin stopped, crossing her arms lightly across her waist. "Why, what's the matter, Bilbus?" she asked sweetly.
Bilbus noticed two of her fingers were tapping the grip of one of her daggers. "Nothing, my dearest lady. Shall we find our companions?"
Bilbus climbed onto his horse and sawed at the reins, turning Acquisition 2 towards the north. The horse quickly trotted away.
Adria cursed quietly to herself and climbed onto her own horse. She quickly urged it to canter to catch the rapidly departing thief.
The two riders spotted Eric and Rishala outside the Cliffside Tavern. Bilbus stopped Acquisition 2 and jumped down from the saddle.
He looked at Eric and Rishala. "So you two decided to come into town to get a crew?"
Eric nodded.
"Do you still think two will be enough?"
Eric nodded again. "It ought to be enough."
"Well then," Bilbus unconsciously puffed up. "Let me handle this. I know my way around sailors."
"Here we go again," Adria muttered under her breath.
Bilbus stood in the doorway. He put his fists on his hips and announced grandly, "I need two men who can handle a ship. There'll be a cask of fine brandy for the tavern if I can find two men to crew the ship."
Adria nearly jumped at the sudden crashing of chairs and tables being thrown aside. Bilbus took a startled step back from the door just before two large men plowed into him, knocking the thief to the ground. One of the burly men opened his mouth in a semblance of a smile, revealing several missing teeth and some more that were blackened with rot.
The smiling man spoke. "Aye, first two to the door. Where's this brandy?"
Eric took a step forward, glancing once at Bilbus, who held still on the ground between the men. "Do you know ships?"
"Of course. Do you think we spend our days in this tavern for fun?"
"That'd be my guess," Bilbus said with a groan.
Everyone ignored the thief.
"Okay, answer me some questions," Eric said. "What's the front of a ship called?"
"The bow. Are you really that ignorant?"
Eric ignored the sarcasm. "What's the heavy weight attached to a chain used to stop a ship?"
The smiling one's face opened more, revealing even more disfigured teeth. "The mate."
"Okay..." Eric began as Rishala laughed loudly. "What's the arm used to steer a ship?"
"The tiller. Perhaps we shouldn't work for you if you know so little about ships."
Eric shook his head. "We need you two to help us bring a ship in. We're picking it up tonight."
"What sort of ship?"
"Umm." Eric had no idea. "A smallish one. Maybe two masts?"
"Right. Where is it?"
"It's by the haunted house."
"Forget it. Even if it is for a cask of brandy, nobody goes around there after dark."
Bilbus called out from the ground, "How about two?"
The smiling man looked down at Bilbus. "Is it good brandy?"
"Yes," Bilbus replied.
"Let's try this brandy, first."
"Help me up," Bilbus demanded, reaching an arm towards each of the men. He winced as they pulled him to his feet too quickly.
Bilbus walked over to his horse. He rummaged around in one of the saddle bags until he produced a flask. He pulled the stopper from the flask and gave it to the smiling man. The man sniffed at the mouth of the flask experimentally, then took a cautious drink. He gave the flask to the other man. "Looks like you have a couple of sailors."
Bilbus beamed. "Excellent. Follow us back to the house." He turned to his companions. "Eric, you and Rishala need to check our guest. Bring him out to the house."
"Guest?" Eric asked.
Rishala punched him in the ribs. "In the church," the Caledonian said quietly.
Bilbus climbed back onto his horse, and he and Adria led the two sailors out of town. They met Rishala and Eric on the road with their prisoner bound and thrown behind Eric's saddle.
Eric yawned and stretched. The chill air blowing through the dark windowpane was refreshing, and it made it easier for Eric to keep his eyes open.
I really should have taken a nap, he finally decided as another cool gust blew through the window.
Eric had offered to keep watch for the smugglers' ship. Sitting on the floor just below the windowpane was the lantern the party had recovered earlier in the day. It was lit, with the round shutter closed over the signaling lens. The steady glow of the flame inside the lantern still leaked out through the closed shutters, lighting the floor around the lantern as well as the scrap of paper that had the signal codes.
Eric stared at the code page for several minutes, entranced by the dashes and marks. He realized with a start that there was a light flashing out at sea.
The explorer grabbed the lantern and looked out the window at the dark sea. The light flashed again: one long flash followed by three shorter flashes. Eric pointed the lantern's lens towards the ship as best as he could, then grabbed the small wooden knob on the shutter cover. He opened and closed the cover, flashing a short flash, then a long flash, then another short and long. He paused for a few seconds and repeated the four flashes.
After a long pause, the ship signaled again with three long flashes. Eric set down the lantern, then ran through the dark house, tripping and stumbling on debris and half falling down the stairs to the ground floor, cursing in his mother's native Nipponese every time he hit something else in the dark.
In the atrium of the house, Eric stopped and looked around. The faint, ghostly flicker of a partially-covered lantern lit the hallway that led to the kitchen. Eric followed the light to find Adria and Bilbus sitting at the half-rotted table, talking quietly. Both the thief and the noble woman stopped and looked at him when he ran through the doorway.
"They're here," Eric said.
Bilbus looked annoyed. "What are you talking about?"
Eric looked at the con man sufferingly. "The ship? You know, the reason why we are in this run-down house in the middle of the night, instead of asleep in a warm inn?"
Bilbus jumped to his feet. "Great! Come on, Eric! We need to light the lanterns in the sea cave and warn everyone else!"
Bilbus ran through the pantry, then stumbled and crashed his way down stairs to the basement. The mountebank operated a hidden catch and opened a doorway that led to the underground barracks room.
Inside, the two knights sat quietly at the table, sipping from some battered pewter mugs. Rishala slept peaceably on one of the mattresses, dead to the world.
Eric stumbled against one of the full kegs, twisting his ankle slightly. "Kuso!" he cursed.
Behind him, Adria giggled. "Kuso? I like that... It's cute."
Eric scowled at her. "Do you know what it means?"
"I can guess, based on the context."
Both knights stared at him. Eric grinned.
"The ship is here," the Azirian said. "We need to light the lanterns and get ready for them."
The knights each grabbed a lantern and followed Bilbus and Eric through the other secret door into the natural caves. Adria remained behind to wake Rishala from his slumber.
The twisty caves ended in a larger cave that opened to the sea, creating a tiny harbor big enough for a ship's boat during low tide. During high tide, the sea rose high enough to nearly hide the cave from any but the most systematic search.
In the cave were several hangers for lanterns. The two knights hung the lanterns they carried, then set about lighting the other three that were in the cave. Once the two knights were done, they followed the passage back several paces to wait in a niche that afforded them an excellent spot to ambush people.
Adria and Rishala waited farther up the passage, in the side-cavern that held the six prisoners the party had taken over the course of the previous day. No one had bothered to guard them during the evening since the only ways out of the cave were through the barracks room where the knights waited or out to sea, where they would be hard-pressed to find a safe place to climb the cliffs back to land.
Eric and Bilbus waited in the sea cave for quite a few minutes before they spotted the longboat rowing in from sea. As the boat got closer to the cave, the explorer and the mountebank were better able to see the boat and its crew.
Two men hunched over the rows, their backs towards the cave. As the rows lifted out of the water, Eric could see that they had been wrapped in cloth, apparently in an effort to muffle the noise of the paddles hitting the water.
The boat scraped against the sandy shore of the cave. One of the rowers hurled a stream of invectives at Eric and Bilbus. Almost lost in the deluge of profanity was a request that the two help haul the boat onto shore before it drifted back out to sea. Bilbus and Eric rushed over to the boat and dragged it ashore.
The two rowers got out of the boat and picked up bulky bundles of oilcloth from the floor of the boat. There were several other bundles in the boat as well.
One of the men, gruff and whiskered, looked at Bilbus and Eric for a second. "Are you two going to stand there all night, or are you going to help us unload?"
Bilbus grabbed a bulky bundle and hefted it. He staggered a few steps as he tried to balance with the heavy cargo. Eric helped the thief steady himself before grabbing a bundle of his own.
Both rowers had already walked up the passageway towards the knights' ambush. A loud crash echoed down the winding tunnel into the sea cave. Eric and Bilbus both tossed their bundles aside and drew their swords. They rushed up the passage until they spotted the rowers.
Sturm held his hand-and-a-half sword levelly, its tip at the lead rower's throat. The other rower had a hand on his cutlass, looking over his shoulder at Eric and Bilbus.
The Sun Knight growled, "Surrender or die."
Both men raised their arms very slowly.
Sturm said, "Wise choice."
Kasey huffed impetuously. "Why do they always surrender?"
Sturm looked at the Church Knight. "Help me bind these two. We'll put them in the storage cave with the rest of the prisoners."
The two knights herded the new prisoners away as Eric knelt by one of the discarded bundles. He drew his dagger and sliced through the oilcloth and the light rope used to tie the bundle closed.
Inside the bundle were a dozen javelins, their short spearheads covered in a thick grease to prevent corrosion. Eric looked up at Bilbus significantly, then started cutting the other bundle. Inside were several swords, similarly preserved.
The two walked back to the sea cave, where they opened the two bundles they had dropped. One held heavy two-handed maces, while the other held some small, round metal shields.
Sturm and Kasey joined the two in the cave several minutes later. Sturm was putting a gauntlet back on his left hand.
Bilbus glanced at the knight's hand. "Was your palm itchy?"
Sturm scowled at the mountebank. "I was jogging our new guests' memories."
Interested, Eric asked, "And?"
"There are more orcs on the ship. They were the buyers for these weapons."
Eric nodded to himself. "Did you find anything else about this ship?"
Sturm nodded. "It's small. One mast. It's called the Sea Ghost, and there is not a big crew. We could take it if we surprise them."
Bilbus laughed to himself. "You could drag me out behind the boat. When we get close, I can swim around behind the ship and board it while they are watching the boat. We can catch them by surprise that way."
Sturm looked at the con man. "I was going to suggest the same thing. We could take several trips out to the boat. We don't want to go out on the first trip -- we need to get the orcs off that ship so we can take 'em separately."
Eric agreed. "It sounds like a good plan. I can row a boat. Does anyone else know how?"
Kasey waved his hand. "I do! I do! I learned while I lived with the Javiks."
Eric clapped his hands together. "Let us start rowing." He climbed into the longboat.
Kasey climbed on behind him. The two sat on one of the rows of bench seats, and both grabbed oars. Sturm and Bilbus pushed the boat back off shore.
The boat slipped away into the dark night as the explorer and the knight rowed.
Some time later, the boat returned. Eric and Kasey were still the only passengers. Sturm and Bilbus pulled the boat to shore. Eric and Kasey unloaded more oilcloth bundles of weapons, dumping them unceremoniously in the sea cave.
The Azirian reported his observations: "It is a small merchant ship. It is facing northeast, so the starboard side is towards shore. There is no anchor chain on the starboard side, and I saw nothing on the rear, so I would guess it has a single anchor on the port side. I think I saw a capstan on the front deck to raise the anchor. There were seven people on deck -- probably the whole crew. One was on the front deck, two were on the main deck, then four on the rear deck."
Bilbus shrugged out of his armor, then put his weapon belts back on over his undershirt and padded leggings. He tied leather thongs around the grips of his weapons to keep them securely in their scabbards while he was swimming. He waded out into the water as Eric and Kasey boarded the boat again.
Sturm pushed the boat free of the cave floor. Eric and Kasey started rowing, getting clear of shore before turning the boat around and heading out to sea. Bilbus grabbed on to the stern of the boat, letting the two rowers drag him out towards the Sea Ghost.
Bilbus watched as the ship slowly appeared in the darkness ahead. There was a lamp glowing somewhere on the deck, for Bilbus could just make out some motion in the dim glow of its light.
There were more bodies on deck than Eric had reported after the first trip. Bilbus counted ten figures on the shadowy silhouette of the Sea Ghost. He watched for a short while longer, aware that the boat was getting perilously close to the ship ahead. Bilbus realized that three of the silhouettes were too tall for men -- they had to be orcs.
He finally released the stern of the boat and took a deep breath. He dipped below the water and kicked towards the front of the Sea Ghost.
Once Bilbus was close to the ship, he let himself surface. The curving prow of the Sea Ghost loomed over him, a dark shape against the darker night. Bilbus floated next to the hull, breathing deeply but quietly, hoping no one above him was paying attention. He pushed himself around the bow of the ship until he spotted the anchor chain, just a few paces away.
Hand over hand the thief climbed the nearly-vertical chain. He paused every other time he pulled himself up, listening for signs of danger. Hearing nothing unusual, the mountebank eventually reached the top of the chain, where it dropped off the main deck beneath the guardrail.
Bilbus carefully peered over the edge of the deck. Only one man was on the foredeck. He was leaning against the anchor capstan, looking towards shore. Bilbus pulled himself up higher, until he saw two of the three orcs climbing down to the ship's boat on the far side of the main deck. Bilbus stopped and watched, unwilling to go farther without some sort of backup.
Rishala waited until he saw the two orcs jump out of the ship's boat. They both strode to shore, waiting impatiently in the sea cave. Eric and Kasey did not bother putting to shore; instead, they turned the boat around and went back out to sea.
Rishala quietly walked back up the tunnel to where the prisoners were held. As Adria covered the prisoners with her long bow, the Caledonian untied the lashings of the prisoners.
"Get out!" he hissed. "Leave now!"
When they did not move fast enough, Adria loosed her arrow, missing one of the men by mere inches.
All eight prisoners ran. After a couple of seconds, Rishala started shouting, "The prisoners are escaping! Help! The prisoners are escaping!"
He paused, listening. There was some sort of noise coming from the sea cave, but it was not the rattle of armored creatures running.
Adria spoke quietly to the story teller. "It was a good plan, Rishala. It looks like the orcs aren't interested in helping their allies control prisoners."
Rishala nodded. "It would have been nice splitting them up. I guess the knights will have to deal with the orcs on their own."
They sat down on some bolts of silk that the smugglers had been hiding in the cave.
Eric and Kasey were now on their third trip to shore. The last orc was riding alone, in the front of the boat. Several times already during the trip, Kasey had looked over his shoulder at the orc in its dark plate armor.
Almost halfway to shore, Kasey turned to Eric. In a loud whisper, the Church Knight asked, "How well do orcs swim?"
"I don't know, Kasey," Eric answered louder than he intended. Quickly hushing his voice, he added, "Why?"
For an answer, Kasey grabbed the edge of the boat and suddenly rocked towards Eric. As the edge of the boat on Eric's side dipped precipitously close to the waterline, Eric grabbed his edge and heaved back towards Kasey. With a yell, both men and the orc fell into the water as the boat rolled upside down. The orc thrashed frantically for a few seconds before being dragged under by the weight of its armor.
Calmly keeping afloat, Kasey turned in the water towards Eric. "You can swim, right?"
"This is a fine time to ask, Kasey. Yes, I can swim."
Kasey lowered his head slightly. "Good. Let's turn this boat over and get back to shore."
It took both of them working for several minutes to right the boat, to collect the oars that had drifted away, and to scoop enough water out of the boat for it to remain afloat once the both were back aboard. Even once they started for shore again, Eric continued to scoop water out of the bottom of the boat while Kasey manned both oars.
When they were close to the cave, they saw that the orcs they had deposited on shore during the previous trip were still waiting in the sea cave. As the boat put to shore, Kasey stood and turned to face the orcs. He drew both of his hand axes. One of the orcs started to react, reaching for its sword.
With a shout, Kasey threw both axes at the orc. It staggered back from the impact of both axes slamming into its chest. With a loud groan, the orc stumbled to its knees. The other orc drew its sword as Sturm charged around a bend in the tunnel. Close behind Sturm came Adria. She stopped, drawing an arrow back to her ear. The arrow shot towards Kasey's orc as Sturm swung his sword at the other beast.
Kasey jumped out of the boat to close with the orcs. The one he had attacked with the throwing axes had fallen still after Adria's arrow punctured him. The other orc desperately was fending off Sturm's determined assault, but it was no match for the Sun Knight.
Eric hopped out of the boat. With Kasey's help, he pulled it onto the shore.
Sturm looked at the explorer. "Are there more orcs?"
Eric shook his head. "Not any more. There was one with us, but Kasey flipped the boat and the orc sank."
Sturm nodded. "We should get going. Is everyone ready?"
Eric and Kasey nodded. Adria disappeared back into the caves to get Rishala as Eric untied his bow from underneath the bench seats of the boat. He removed the water-damaged string and started unwinding a spare that he pulled out of a tightly-wrapped wax saturated envelope.
Adria returned with Rishala. The party boarded the boat, which Sturm pushed back into the water. Eric and Kasey started rowing it once more towards the Sea Ghost as Sturm let himself be pulled along behind the boat.
Part of the way back out to the ship, Eric pulled his oar out of the water. Kasey did the same, not wanting to steer the boat off course.
Eric looked around at his companions. "Did you hear that?"
Near the front of the boat, Adria replied in a hushed tone, "What?"
Eric pointed off towards the left of the boat. "I hear something making noises in the water over there."
Rishala peered into the darkness. "I see something swimming." He glanced back at Kasey and Eric. "Could that orc have gotten free of its armor?"
Eric carefully stood and balanced in the gently rocking boat. He drew his bow back, aiming towards the dark figure just visible on the surface of the water.
"Careful, Eric," Rishala advised. "Don't tip the boat."
Eric glanced down at the Caledonian with a smirk. "I am already wet, Rishala. What is the problem?"
Quietly, Rishala answered, "I can't swim."
Incredulous, Adria said, "What?"
The story teller looked at her. "I can't swim."
She shook her head. "Why did you wait until we were out here in the middle of the ocean to say something?"
"I didn't want to get left behind with the horses again. You might need another archer, anyway."
Eric shushed loudly. He whispered, "Quiet! I do not want the orc to hear us and duck into the water."
Eric loosed his arrow. He was already reaching for another one when a sudden short yelp echoed across the surface, followed quickly by something thrashing on the surface of the water. The Azirian shot a second arrow into the dark. The noises and thrashing stopped.
Eric carefully sat back down. He looked at Rishala, who was holding the edge of the boat with white knuckles. "See? You are still dry."
Rishala scowled at the explorer as Eric and Kasey began to row once more.
Several minutes later, the longboat was once more against the side of the Sea Ghost. Sturm had let go ten paces away from the boat and slipped away quietly around the bow.
The smugglers aboard the ship had lowered a net over the side to serve as a ladder for the erstwhile passengers to board the ship. Kasey clenched his dagger in his teeth and scrambled up the net. He swung his legs over the railing of the deck, landing between two men. Kasey glanced around the ship. On the forecastle he saw Bilbus and Sturm quietly climbing over the railing at the top of the anchor chain. None of the crew of the ship were aware of the boarders.
Abruptly, Kasey punched the man to his right squarely in the face. The man stumbled backwards as the Church Knight grabbed his dagger and swung it brutally at the smuggler to his left.
The force of the cut nearly decapitated the man, who fell backwards to the deck. Kasey glanced briefly towards the forecastle, long enough to see Sturm eliminate the guard there. The Church Knight turned to the man he had punched, holding his dagger at ready.
An arrow shot from the darkness above, cutting into Kasey's left forearm. Kasey shouted to his comrades, "Archer high! Get him!"
Eric, Adria, and Rishala were all standing in the longboat. All three volley-fired arrows at the crow's nest high above the deck, punching holes in the thick wooden planks that formed its floor.
The archer took note of the new threat and shifted his position to shoot back at the party's three archers, who were closely packed next to one another in the boat.
On the Sea Ghost, the men on the poop deck were scrambling towards the ladder down to the main deck. Kasey was moving towards them, his sword now drawn. Sturm jumped down from the forecastle to charge the crew as well. Bilbus had grabbed a nearby stay line and was climbing towards the crow's nest.
The thief glanced around the deck, making a mental note of where his friends and enemies were. He spotted one of the men still on the rear deck, staring intently at the mountebank hanging from the rope. The man raised a hand and pointed at Bilbus. A glowing dart sprung from the man's outstretched finger. It shot across the twenty paces to Bilbus, striking him in the shoulder.
Bilbus cursed to himself and drew his dagger. He sawed through the stay line, intending to use it to swing across the main deck to the rear of the ship. The line was too long, and the thief found himself landing right in front of one of the larger crewmen on the main deck.
The thief barely drew his rapier in time to deflect an overhead chop from the crewman.
"Kasey? Sturm? Help?" Bilbus shouted, risking one glance over his shoulder towards the two knights.
On the longboat, another arrow shot into the bottom. None of the shots from the archer high in the crow's nest had pierced the floorboards yet. Eric loosed another arrow at the archer, cursing under his breath when it once more hit the wall of the crow's nest. The archer overhead fired down once more. Eric nearly doubled over in pain when the arrow grazed against his shoulder.
Adria snarled to herself as yet another of her arrows missed its mark. She slung the bow over her head and one shoulder and jumped onto the rope ladder. Rishala, still standing near the front of the longboat, lost his footing and fell down. He lay on his back, breathing rapidly.
Without glancing down, Eric asked, "Are you all right?"
"I can't swim!" Rishala managed between gasps.
"Have we had this conversation? It sounds familiar." The Azirian glanced down the Caledonian. Rishala had a death grip on both of the gunwales of the boat. "Why did you not stay on shore?"
Another arrow from on high smacked into the bottom of the boat, missing Rishala by inches. Eric grimly drew another arrow back. Instead of firing right away, he waited, feeling the rhythm of the longboat's motions. The archer above was readying another shot as Eric watched the crow's nest rock back in front of the arrow he held ready.
With a quiet exhale, Eric released the arrow. It flew quickly into the darkness, finding its mark overhead. The archer in the crow's nest fell over its low walls with a shout, landing on the main deck fifteen paces below with a dull thud.
Eric reached for the net, intending to climb up onto the main deck to help the knights mop up the remaining crew. As he grabbed the rope, he heard a splash to his left, coming from the rear of the ship. Eric released the rope ladder and grabbed another arrow.
Standing on the poopdeck next to the railing was Kasey. The Church Knight dropped his large sword, then quickly removed his helmet. Eric watched Kasey leap overboard into the water.
Kasey's target surfaced at that moment, ten paces from the ship. The man swam briefly in the water, then started floating above it, accelerating ever faster.
Eric shifted immediately to track the fast-moving target. In the periphery of his vision, he could see Kasey broaching the surface of the water.
Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Eric let the arrow fly towards the smuggler. He noticed that Kasey had kicked himself powerfully out of the water. As the Church Knight sank back down towards the surface, he threw his two hand axes at the fleeing smuggler.
Kasey was already swimming out towards the dweomercraefter when one of his axes split the fleeing smuggler's skull. The flying man tumbled onto the water, skipping once across the surface before he came to a stop.
On the deck of the ship, Bilbus and Adria opened one of the doors set below the poopdeck. The con man started to step into the steep stairwell behind the door when a man rushed up it out of the darkness. Bilbus quickly backpedaled, trying to find room to draw his rapier.
In a quick motion, Adria drew an arrow and fired it into the assailant's chest from just over a pace away. The man fell back down the stairwell, gurgling.
Bilbus glanced around the deck. Sturm was standing near an open door below the forecastle, his sword drawn and a fresh corpse at his feet.
Bilbus once again started down the stairs. He put away his rapier and drew a dagger. Directing a small weave of Heka into the blade, Bilbus shaped a dweomer that cast a cool white glow, bright enough that the mountebank could navigate the dark ship.
Bilbus stepped gingerly over the body at the bottom of the stairs, where it had come to rest after Adria shot it. He held the dagger in front of him, sweeping it slowly back and forth as he looked around the cramped quarters in which he found himself.
Bilbus heard Adria snort in disgust behind him. The room had a subtle stale, rancid stink to it, and the former owner obviously made no effort to keep it tidy -- discarded clothes littered the deck, and the hammock showed stains even in the dim light of the dweomered dagger.
Adria slipped past him in the room to inspect the rear wall of the room.
"Bilbus?" she glanced over her shoulder at the mountebank. "Bring you dagger over here."
Bilbus stumbled over something -- a small, brass-bound chest, he discovered -- as he stepped over to her.
Adria tapped on the rear wall of the room. "See this? These boards are a different type of wood than the side wall."
Bilbus leaned close, holding his dagger against the wall as Adria continued tapping it. She found a catch hidden in a gap between two of the boards. She pulled the catch, and a section of the wall swung outwards a few inches.
Both the noble and the thief jumped as someone crashed down the stairs.
Eric fell to his knees at the base of the stairs, clutching the wound on his shoulder.
Bilbus leaped across the room, kneeling next to the explorer. "Adria! Steady him."
Bilbus drew some small packages from one of his belt pouches. He shook the packages carefully, trying to remove the water that soaked into them after his swim in the Vasmar. As Adria watched, Bilbus mixed the ingredients of the packages together -- various herbs and plants.
Eric looked at the mash. Through clenched teeth, he said, "What is that? It smells like Iberian salsa."
"Something that will help," Bilbus said as he started binding the herbs with small weaves of Heka.
Adria watched the mountebank as he finished mixing it. "That's not right Bilbus. Give me those pouches!"
She took the pouches away from the thief, then started mixing the herbs herself. Bilbus nearly jumped when he felt a tingle of someone drawing Heka. Bilbus looked at Adria in shock when he realized that she was channeling. Adria tore a scrap from her now-ragged dress, wrapping it around the poultice and pressing it to Eric's wounded shoulder.
Bilbus leaned close to Adria. She tensed as the mountebank whispered to her.
"I didn't realize you knew how to channel Heka."
Adria felt a chill rush up her spine. She hissed quietly at the thief. "What are you talking about?"
"That poultice you made. I could feel you weaving Heka into it."
She looked at him. In the dim glow of his dagger, she could not tell if he were kidding.
Before she could say anything else, Kasey stepped into the crowded room. He paused when he saw Bilbus and Adria tending Eric's wound, then noticed the secret door that was ajar in the rear wall of the room.
The Church Knight poked his head through the door. He pulled back and turned to his companions. "Guys! There's someone in here!"
Kasey disappeared into the hidden compartment. Several grunts rolled out of the room, followed by the groan of cracking wood. Moments later, Kasey led a naked, shackled man out of the room.
The man was in his late thirties. He was slight of build, with an unruly mop of dark hair on his head. There was something Bilbus recognized about the man's face.
Kasey opened the clothes chest underneath the hammock in the room. He pulled out some clothes for the man, then looked at the shackles binding the man's wrists.
Bilbus drew lock picks from a concealed pocket hidden within his belt pouch. He fussed with the locks of the manacles. Who am I kidding? I can't even see these well enough to find the tumbler. Bilbus directed a sharp weave of Heka into the lock while he continued to act as if he were picking them. He grunted with satisfaction as the locks sprung open.
Bilbus repeated the charade with the metal hobbles on the man's ankles.
Kasey removed a gag from the man's mouth. "Who are you?" the Church Knight asked. "Why did they tie you up like that?"
The man started pulling on the clothes that Kasey offered. The fit was terrible -- the former owner of the clothes was substantially larger than this man was.
He looked up distrustfully at Kasey. "I am Iain of Saltcliffs. They have been holding me so my brother would cooperate."
Bilbus looked up at the man. "Who's your brother?"
"Brule."
"The mayor of Saltcliffs? The one who owns the inn?"
"Yes."
Kasey started ushering Iain. "Here, let's get you out of this room and onto the deck."
Eric stood up stiffly, then followed the two up the stairs.
Bilbus waited until the three were up the stairs before he kneeled by the chest upon which he had stumbled earlier. He pulled out his lockpicks again and started manipulating the lock. After a few seconds, and a brief burst of Heka, Bilbus had the chest open.
Bilbus whistled to himself as he looked at the pile of silver coins in the box.
Adria leaned over his shoulder to look at the coins. With an edge of disdain, she asked, "Is all you think about riches?"
"About what else would you have me think, m'Lady? I recall a conversation earlier today that touched upon my thinking of you."
Adria stormed towards a door that led to another room.
On the main deck, Kasey asked Rishala and Eric to keep watch on Iain. Sturm was entering another of the doors below the poopdeck. Kasey followed him through.
Sturm searched the room. A pair of lanterns hanging from rafters just above his head provided plenty of light to see. Clothes had been discarded haphazardly about the floor, and the bed linens were crumpled near the foot of the bed. A heavy wooden box bound with rusted iron was half-buried by clothes near the tall windows that looked out the rear of the ship. Next to the pile of clothes was a desk covered with papers.
Sturm picked up the papers and started flipping through them as he walked back towards the main deck. "This captain was busy. It looks like he had three wives..." His voice drifted off as he skimmed through the papers again. "In three cities. Here's a letter from the baroness. And here is one thanking him for doing business with someone."
Rishala overheard the last part of Sturm's comments as the Sun Knight stepped onto the main deck once more. The story teller walked across the deck to Sturm. "Can I look at those last two letters?"
Sturm continued scanning through the pages.
"Sturm? I would like to see the letter from the baroness, and the one about business."
"Oh. Here." Sturm pulled two of the pages out of the stack.
Rishala read the first one in the dim lantern light of the deck. The handwriting was careful and elegant.
Captain Sigurd,
Your service to Our cause has been most excellent. As a reward for your allegiance to Us, We wish for you to accept this favor as a gift. We have also sent along a medallion as a reminder of Our pleasure & an invitation to Our estate. We await the day when you will make the trip to Our estate that We may reward you richly.
Eclavdra,
Baroness Eilservs
The second letter was much harder to read. It was an unsteady hand, and looked more like the scrawls of a child than any trained adult hand.
Master Sigurd,
We thank you greatly for your past supplies of ironware. Our kitchen is nearly complete, and our new smiths are ready to make our cookware from the supply of ore in the hills. We look forward to the day soon arriving that we can open for business. Always be willing to visit our lands, if ever you are away from the sea and wish to visit the Dales.
We have sent five of our chefs along to take possession of the pots and pans. They will compensate for this final shipment in coin, as per previous arrangements.
There was no signature on the letter, but there was an ornate glyph drawn within an inverted triangle.
Sturm was kneeling next to one of the bodies on deck. Rishala walked over to him and offered the letters back to him. "That second letter refers to five 'chefs'. There were five orcs between those on the shore and those on this ship. Want to bet that the 'cookware' was what Eric and Kasey brought ashore?"
Sturm stood. "It could be. I think this was the captain. I found these on him."
Sturm held out a few pieces of jewelry in his hand. The first was a black medallion on a black chain. The second was a steel chain, dull gray in color. The last was a brass pin.
Rishala looked at the medallion closely. The hideous tentacle-faced monster stared back at him in bas relief on the face of the black disc. "We found one like this on Cadell."
"This one has an inscription on it."
Rishala looked around the edge of the medallion. There were odd characters surrounding the monstrosity.
He turned his attention to the brass pin. It was just over an inch and a half long, shaped like a staff or rod of some sort, with more odd characters inscribed along it. "I wonder what these mean. I do not recognize this script."
Sturm dropped the items into his belt pouch. "I don't either."
Bilbus had returned to the main deck. He was noisily pushing the grate cover off of the main hold hatch. He pushed the crane arm over the opening, then called out to Eric. "Lower me down to the hold!"
Bilbus looped his arm around the rope hanging from the end of the crane, then slipped one foot into the iron hook at the end of the rope.
Eric looked at Bilbus for several seconds before he walked over to the pulleys of the crane. He started pulling one of the ropes with his unwounded arm, lifting Bilbus a foot above the deck. The explorer started pulling a different rope, and Bilbus dropped into the hold.
"Well, well. What have we here?" Bilbus asked as his feet touched the deck of the hold. In the soft illumination of his dweomered dagger, he could make out numerous bolts of cloth -- silk, judging from the way they reflected light -- and numerous small casks. He unwrapped the rope from his arm and stepped over to the nearest cask. With some prying, he pulled the top off and looked at the tiny white crystals inside.
The thief turned with a start when a door in the front bulkhead of the hold swung open. Kasey stepped through.
"Hi, Bilbus! What are you doing?" the Church Knight asked cheerfully.
"Trying to find a manifest."
"Is this it?" Kasey asked, grabbing a board hanging from a peg by the door. There was a sheet of paper tacked to the board.
"Let me see it," Bilbus said, stepping through the hold, avoiding stacks of cloth and casks.
Bilbus ran his finger down the list and whistled to himself. "There's a lot on this ship... ninety bolts of silk... almost a hundred casks of brandy... a couple hundred casks of dwarven wine... some scented soaps... salt... not a bad haul."
Bilbus walked back to the rope and wrapped it around his arm once more. He slipped his foot into the hook at the end of the rope. "Eric, haul me up! I have the manifest!"
Eric pulled the rope. Once Bilbus had cleared the edge of the cargo hatch, he swung the rope towards one edge. He stepped deftly onto the main deck.
Bilbus walked around the open hole towards Eric. "We're rich! Well, until we divide it and all that. . ."
Eric took the manifest and looked at it as Sturm walked over to them.
The Sun Knight looked at the stars overhead. "We'll be seeing light, soon. Eric, you and Kasey should go fetch those men we hired. We need to get this boat underway. Take Rishala back to shore, too."
"Thank you," Rishala said as he looked around at the dark sea surrounding him.
Sturm looked at him. "We'll meet you at the docks in Saltcliffs."
Rishala nodded as he, Eric, and Kasey went towards the side of the ship, where the longboat was still tied.
The Sea Ghost tied up alongside the Saltcliffs Dock at sunrise. Rishala met the rest of the party at the docks, and they made their way back to the Square Inn. Brule welcomed his brother back with great relief and apologized endlessly to the party for his participation in the deception.
An exhausted Bilbus walked out to the stables, intending on keeping his agreement with Adria. He climbed into the hay loft above the roomy stable in which Farran rested.
As soon as Bilbus had made himself comfortable in the hay, Kasey's warhorse started making a disturbing coughing-growl noise.
Stupid horse, the mountebank grumbled to himself. Farran started the coughing noise again.
"Knock it off, Farran! I would like a couple of hours of sleep here."
The floor of the loft shifted violently. Snarling, Bilbus pulled himself to the edge of the loft and peered down at the ground level of the stables.
Farran was rubbing a shoulder against one of the loft's support posts that happened to be part of the wall of his stable. Bilbus grabbed a double fist full of hay -- the only thing in the loft he could find besides his possessions -- and threw it at the warhorse. "Please, stop it!" the thief shouted.
Farran glanced up at Bilbus, then took a couple of steps away from the pole, ears laid flat against his head. The warhorse kicked the pole with one rear hoof, then walked away, snorting twice.
Bilbus cursed under his breath and rolled onto his back.
Bilbus looked around. He was standing in the cramped work area of a blacksmith. What? How did I get here?
A smith stood over an anvil, hammering on a long spearhead. He spoke quietly.
"Vas-korp-ai-gra net-ten-mire. Vas-korp-ai-gra net-ten-mire," he repeated time and again.
The smith looked up, noticing Bilbus for the first time. He pointed towards the wall near Bilbus. There was a round wooden pole leaning against it.
The smith said, "Don eye vas-arb-char."
Bilbus grabbed the shaft and gave it to the smith. Did he call it a tree-part?
"Grat," the smith said.
He fit the still cooling spearhead onto the shaft, looking at the nearly-completed weapon for a few moments.
The room around Bilbus faded into darkness. When the mountebank could see again, he found himself standing in the midst of a battlefield. On a rise just ahead of Bilbus stood a man wielding the spear, fighting against dozens of orcs. That's Uther Paendroeg? How did I know it's the Sun King? This has got to be a dream.
Orcs and men fought for as far as the eye could see. A city, partly aflame, was behind Uther. In the distance, towering above the burning city, were the twin spires of the Silver Towers, Uther Paendroeg's Imperial Palace.
The towers burned as well. As Bilbus watched, transfixed, part of one of the towers crumbled. The crash of metal on metal, and the screams of pain -- human and otherwise -- seemed distant to the mountebank. He continued to watch King Paendroeg fight, running an orc through with the spear.
The weapon did not appear to slow as it punched through the plate armor covering the chest of the beast. It fell to the ground as the Sun King withdrew the spear and swung it to deflect a different orc's charge. The gore on the spearhead vanished, as if the spear had consumed it.
The battle raged for what seemed to be an eternity. The orcs and men around Bilbus slowed from exhaustion, yet the Sun King continued to fight as if he were still fresh. Even so, Uther Paendroeg was gradually overwhelmed by the seemingly endless crush of the orcs.
Bilbus staggered as the world spun suddenly. He now found himself in a dimly lit room fashioned of dark stone. A large table, its surface polished granite, filled the center of the room. Uther's battle spear rested on the table, where two men stood near it, studying it.
The shorter of the two men spoke in a raspy, nearly croaking, voice. "Great Lord, I have studied Rhongomyant for all the ans you have demanded of me. I still do not know the weavings that created this weapon, and I can not remove the weavings."
The speaker shifted positions, giving Bilbus a view of his face. Bilbus gasped aloud when he realized that the man had little flesh on his face. A dried, skeletal visage looked straight at Bilbus with small points of blue light glowing in its eye sockets.
The other man turned to look at Bilbus. He appeared normal enough -- a tall man wearing a dark coat over a white shirt, with dark gray trews beneath. His dark, close-cut hair and well-groomed beard contrasted with his fair complexion. He regarded Bilbus for several moments. Bilbus saw a flash of flame in the man's eyes.
The man spoke in a strong voice that demanded respect: "I did not give you leave to enter this dream, child. Leave. Now."
Bilbus felt dizzy again as a murky dark glow surrounded him.
Bilbus sat up with a start, in the hay loft once again. He was covered in a cold sweat. Outside, the sun was well above the horizon, and the noises of a village during the day drifted in on a warm breeze.
Bilbus realized that he was seeing an afterimage of the spear floating in his vision. Underneath it was a familiar, strange script:
He blinked his eyes several times before the afterimage disappeared.
The mountebank stretched and climbed down the ladder to the ground floor. Farran gazed at him with a menacing glare. Bilbus turned his back and walked quickly out of the stables.
A quick glance at the sky told Bilbus it was already after midday. He ducked gratefully into the darker interior of the Square Inn. He found his traveling companions once more gathered around a large table in the otherwise empty common room.
Bilbus dropped onto one of the chairs, falling more than setting. Eric looked across the table at him.
"You look like you slept as well as I did," the explorer offered cheerlessly.
Bilbus rubbed his forehead. "I just wish my head would stop pounding. That stupid horse kept making noises. No wonder I had that weird dream."
Eric sat forward. "You had one too?"
Bilbus looked up at the explorer. "Yes..."
Eric got up and circled around the table. He sat down next to Bilbus and placed his travel journal on the table. The Azirian had been keeping notes of his journeys for years, he had once said, and he had continued to do so as he traveled with his current companions.
Eric opened the book to a nearly blank page. On it was another set of markings.
Bilbus shook his head. "Those are the wrong markings."
Eric opened a bottle of ink, then offered Bilbus a stylus. The mountebank drew the glyphs he had dreamed on the page beneath Eric's.
Eric looked at him. "Did you dream about finding a dragon's treasure horde?"
"No..."
"I dreamed I was with a warrior who spoke a strange tongue. I understood what he said, but I have never heard this language ever, I am sure. We chanted some sort of strange incantation, and this sword vanished. I then found myself in a cave with a dragon. The sword was there, as well as all sorts of other treasures. The dragon talked to me, then I think he breathed fire on me. I woke up then."
"I watched the Fall of Camelough," Bilbus said. "I saw Uther Paendroeg die. I saw these two people studying Paendroeg's spear. Only, I don't think either of them was alive."
Kasey leaned over to look at the marking in the book. "That's not what they looked like, you know."
"You had a dream, too?" Eric asked.
"Yeah." Kasey furrowed his brow. "It was a weird dream. There were dwarves, and thunder, and this great sword, and orcs."
"That is weird," Eric said.
"No, that's not weird. I think I lost. That is why it was weird."
Eric glanced at Bilbus. The mountebank rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. Eric looked back at Kasey.
"Do you remember what the markings looked like?"
Kasey nodded. He took Eric's stylus and drew another row of lines underneath the two already on the page.
Adria looked at the three men gathered around the journal. "You know, I had a long day yesterday, including getting wet and fighting on a boat. I fell asleep last night on the deck of the Sea Ghost while those sailors brought the thing to shore." She paused. "On an empty stomach, I might add. I don't think any of you had better conditions than I had, so I don't see why you're surprised that you had weird dreams."
Eric looked at her. "Did you have one as well?"
"I don't see that it matters."
"Did you?"
"Yes. I don't want to talk about it."
Eric glanced at Bilbus significantly. He then looked at Rishala. "Did you have a dream last night, Rishala?"
Rishala cleared his throat and folded a piece of paper he was holding. "I dreamed about riding across the desert -- I think it was the Wasted Lands, where the Dark One's castle was. I remember a fight. The men I rode with, they were from al-Rhayidh. They were probing the Dark One's armies. I remember a Shadow Kindred."
"A what?" Eric asked as he started making notes in his journal.
"A Shadow Kindred -- 'Neverborn'. That's what the other men called it. It looks like a man, but it wears black scale armor and moves faster than any living thing should. It wields a curved blade that causes terrible wounds."
Eric finished making notes. He looked at Sturm, who sat with arms crossed. "Sturm, did you have any odd dreams?"
"No."
"Really? That is strange. Everyone else here had one."
"I didn't."
Eric scribbled some more notes. He then noticed the paper that Rishala was again studying.
"What do you have there?" the Azirian asked.
Rishala gave him the paper. "I found it on one of the orcs we killed last night. I have been trying to make sense of the language, but I do not recognize it."
"I do not know it, either."
Sturm reached for the paper. "I would like to look at it."
Eric gave the Sun Knight the paper.
Sturm scanned through it. "I don't recognize it, either. Is this orc script?"
Rishala nodded as the Sun Knight gave the paper back to him. "That is my guess. I don't know anyone who knows the language, though, so I don't know what to make of it."
Rishala stopped speaking as he saw Brule come out of the kitchen, carrying his tree stump chair. He set it down next to the table, then settled onto it.
"My lords, please accept my humblest apologies for betraying you to those vile men. You understand that they held my brother, and I couldn't let him die. If ever I can repay you for rescuing him... I will not charge you for staying tonight. It is a meager compensation, but it is a start."
Rishala shook his head. "We understand what was being done to you, Brule. We can not blame you for trying to keep your brother safe. We are all alive, and your brother has his freedom once more."
Sturm nodded. In a growl, he added, "Just don't do it again. Next time, we may not be so understanding."
Brule looked nervously at the Sun Knight, unsure how serious Sturm was. The innkeeper stood again and picked up his tree stump.
Before Brule could leave, Rishala said, "Wait. You are a businessman, and a good one to make this inn survive in Saltcliffs."
Brule smiled proudly. "I have had the good breaks, and business has been kind to me." He patted his immense belly. "Why do you make this observation?"
"As it turns out, we have need of a competent man to run a shipping business for us. We have a ship that we will supply. You supply the crew and manage the operations. We will want a modest percentage of the profits, of course, but you may keep the rest. What say you?"
Brule considered the offer. "The city has suffered because of the overland trade through here dying. It has been hard to keep the inn running as well as when I started. Fair enough. I will repay you by managing your ship and keeping it profitable."
Brule walked around the table. He offered a hand to Rishala. Rishala and Brule grasped forearms. Brule released the story teller, then waddled back to the kitchen, whistling a tuneless but cheerful jig.
That evening, the party had gathered around the table again for their evening meals. Adria had pushed her plate aside and was idly thumbing through an old, dusty book. She chuckled to herself on occasion as she did so.
At one point, she got up and ran to the kitchen, poking her head into it and asking Brule for some spices and herbs. She returned and started grinding the spices together, pausing every few seconds to check something in the book.
Satisfied she had the mixture complete, Adria grabbed Bilbus's unguarded mug. The mountebank was holding a quiet conversation with Eric, so he did not notice the theft. Adria used her table knife to push the mixture into Bilbus drink, then stirred it with the knife.
"Bilbus!" she said.
The mountebank turned to look over his shoulder at her. "What?"
"Take a small sip of this," she said as she held the mug out to him.
Bilbus noticed the mug was his from the table. "Okay. What did you do with it?"
Adria waited until his lips were on the mug. "The recipe says it causes extreme discomfort."
Bilbus dropped the mug on the table and started pushing himself away from the poisoned drink. "Are you trying to kill me?!?"
"I doubt it. The recipe just said 'extreme discomfort'. It's not supposed to be fatal. Of course, I had to substitute a couple of ingredients, since Brule didn't have them in his kitchen..."
Bilbus stood from his chair, tipping it in the process. He looked at the book Adria had. He flipped the book closed and read the cover. "The Magickal Properties of Herbs and Flowers? Where did you get this?"
Adria looked at him innocently. "It was in the haunted house. It looked fun."
"That's it," Bilbus said with disgust. "I am going to bed." He stomped towards the stairs.
"Bilbus?" Adria asked sweetly.
Bilbus stopped. When he turned to face her, she looked pointedly towards the kitchen doorway and the stables beyond.
The mountebank grumbled to himself as he stomped through the common room towards the stables.
"Where to next, do you think?" Rishala asked.
Eric looked at his travel journal. He was studying the dream glyphs that he, Kasey, and Bilbus had drawn. "I think we should go to Armagh. This writing looks like what that fortune teller wrote for Sturm and Kasey. Maybe she can interpret it for us."
Kasey added, "And we can get healed at the church."
Rishala nodded. "Okay. To Armagh, then." He stifled an impressive yawn. "Tomorrow."
Adria objected. "I can't pick up my dress until late tomorrow afternoon. Can we leave the morning after?"
Eric sighed quietly. "Very well. We stay another day in Saltcliffs, then ride for Armagh."
The following morning, Sturm awoke early. His head was swimming from a dream he had had during the night. Unlike the odd dreams that his companions had described -- and the one Sturm did not want to admit having -- this dream was one that Sturm had initiated. During Sturm's years of training at the Sunkeep near Llwelyn, Sir Richard Atenburg had taught Sturm how to find answers to questions in dreams. The technique could be used to help understand foreign writings, as well.
Sturm sat up and opened the bottle of ink he had put on the small table next to his bed. He picked up a quill and started writing on a blank sheet of paper Eric had given him.
the tribes are scattered
left by the great lord
fighting the northern men
to lead the glory of the returnthe tribes hide and grow
when the two mils pass
one will betray its past
and fight for the sun
Sturm capped the inkwell and cleaned the nib of the pen. He then stretched and dressed, wondering if how he had interpreted the dream was correct. The orc script seemed to be a poem, but it appeared to be much more literal than Sturm expected.
Late that evening, Adria sat alone in one of the smaller rooms of the Square Inn. Brule had initially put her in the noble's room, a spacious, plush room that was far too open and empty for Adria's taste. She had pleaded with Brule off and on for most of the afternoon before she was able to convince him to put her into one of the "mere" commoners' rooms. It was much more cozy, and the bed was only modestly less comfortable. The only disadvantage Adria had found was that there was no room for a bath in here. She would have to either bathe in the noble's room or go without.
She dipped her stylus into a bottle of ink again. She had been meaning to write her father a letter telling him how her travels had gone, but every time she started to think of something to write, she would stop herself. Instead, she found herself staring at the golden rose sitting on the small table she was using as a desk. She remembered seeing it in the dead alchemist's laboratory, but she was sure Kasey had put it in a bag for safekeeping.
That rotten thief must have stolen it, she decided once again.
At last, Adria decided she would start her letter. She dipped the stylus into the ink once more, then began writing.
Father,
My travels have brought me to the town of Saltcliffs. I find the sea air most invigorating! Tomorrow my companions and I will return to Armagh, though I am not sure we will stay there long. I have seen many unusual sights and I am doing my best to 'get it out of my system' as you wisely suggested. My companions are well traveled, very courteous, and seem to have a knack for finding exciting diversions and entertainment. We get along splendidly. We have met with no troubles along the way and people here seem to be very friendly. The only harm that has come to me has been from the tossing of the carriage and the path of stones and holes they see fit to call a road.
I will write you again soon when I know where we will be heading next. Please send word when you wish me to return.
Your devoted daughter,
Adria
Adria signed her name on the letter, then waited for the ink to dry. Now, just to find a courier.
Adria cleaned the nib of her stylus, dipping it in a small bowl of water several times and carefully wiping away the drying ink with a cloth. She folded the cloth neatly, and put it in a wooden box with her stylus. She capped the ink bottle tightly, tilting it on its side to make sure it was not going to leak, then put it in the scribe's box with the stylus and cleaning cloth. She closed the box and drew the two straps on it tight, so the contents could not get loose. She put the box in her travel pack, then looked back at her letter.
The ink will take a little longer to dry. She glanced around the room. Most of her belongings were already packed to travel. The only things she had left out were clothes for tomorrow -- a riding dress with a split skirt, the letter to her father, and the dress she had worn yesterday. I'm never going to wear it again, and it's not salvageable, anyway, she thought as she looked at the dress. If she had not decided to follow through on her fight with Bilbus, the dress would have been fine.
"Maybe someone around here can use it as a rag," she said to no one.
She picked up the torn, dirtied, bloodstained dress and left her room. The hallway was empty at this hour, so she hopped down the stairs to the main floor, skipping every other step, then jumping the last three to land in the common room. An embarrassed glance around showed that only Bilbus was in the room. He sat near the fireplace, his chair tilted back on two legs and his back against the wall as he read through a large tome.
Adria pointedly ignored the thief as she walked into the kitchen. A pair of cleaning girls were talking casually over a large basin of water piled with dishes. One of them spotted the noble woman entering the room, and she straightened quickly.
"M'Lady!" she said. The other cleaning girl jumped, quickly brushing her dress as she turned to face Adria as well.
"Please!" Adria protested. "I have this old dress. I think it may still be serviceable as a rag." She offered the dress to the two women.
They inspected the dress, looking up at Adria wonderingly as they inspected the tears and the blood stains. One of them looked at the thread-of-gold trimming, still intact after all the abuse, and glanced up at Adria again.
"If it is of any use, you are welcome to it," Adria said as she turned to leave the kitchen.
"Thank you, m'Lady," the first young woman said as the noble left.
Adria started to return to her room. Maybe I should have kept the noble's room. Mine is too small.
Bilbus continued to read through his book. Making a decision, Adria walked over to him.
"Are you busy?" she asked.
Bilbus took his time responding. He put a finger on a word -- presumably to hold his place -- and looked up at her. "No. What's up, buttercup?"
Adria suppressed a snarl as she added another word to the list of pet names she had come to despise.
Instead, she answered him. "I thought, after our little spat the other day, that we could both do with some practice."
Again Bilbus paused before answering. "Perhaps we should take this somewhere less open. Say, your room?"
Adria studied his eyes intently, searching for some sign of lechery in his offer. He seemed sincere -- As sincere as he ever does, she corrected herself -- so Adria nodded.
Bilbus closed his book and signed to her, After you.
Adria raised an eyebrow. Jerryn, her trainer in weapon skills as well as the less honest arts, had taught her the Thieves' Sign as well. "After you" was often used jokingly -- after all, the first thief through the window was the one who would be trapped by any guards, and it was hard to watch one's coin purses when a thief was at one's back.
Adria walked up the stairs, aware of the mountebank following behind her. She walked into her room and took a seat on the bed, half of which was covered with her travel pack and clothes for the trip back to Armagh tomorrow.
Bilbus closed the door behind him and turned to look at her. "Well, it looks like we're finally alone." Adria noted he kept his voice carefully neutral as he cautiously glanced about the room, looking for exits. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
The mountebank knew more about Adria than Adria was comfortable having known. He had already learned that she could fight -- using practical techniques, not courtly "honor" fighting styles -- and that she had a penchant for herbs. He had willingly followed someone he must have suspected was an assassin into her room, alone.
"Bilbus..." Adria began. She looked at him for a moment, trying to select the right words to say. "Perhaps we started badly here. I am usually not too trusting of strangers, and the last couple of months have not helped my disposition. Ask me a question -- any question -- and I will answer as truthfully as I can."
The con man took his turn to study her. "One question? Where did you learn to fight like that?"
To the heart of the matter, then. "I was taught by a mercenary. A sword for hire. Our paths crossed when I was fourteen. I was not as tactful as I am now." The corner of her mouth curled upwards at the joke. "I blackmailed him into teaching me to fight. I paid him well, and told him that if I were not learning, he could stop teaching. He never did. I was originally interested in rapier, but I learned that knives are easier to carry and conceal. I didn't learn to fight a courtly style because I was a girl, and it was not something girls were taught. Besides, I had my brothers to fight for me."
"You were able to pay him..." Bilbus said wonderingly. "I don't remember my parents. I spent most of my youth in a Church orphanage in Brallian. My parents were traders who were killed by the Javik when I was still a young child. Nobles swooped in and gobbled up my family's holdings, and I was left on the streets. The Church raised me."
"So, now you're a thief," Adria said.
"I'm a thief because I had to learn to hide. The bullies loved beating on smaller children. I got revenge the only way I could -- I would sneak in and steal belts, or sabotage their beds, or whatever else. I wound up getting recruited by the Thieves' Guild when I was in my teens, after I left the orphanage.
"When I was fifteen, I was put on the streets again. The Mother in charge of the orphanage gave me everything that I had when I originally came to the orphanage with: three copper coins and a signet ring that my father must have stolen. I was with the Guild until they tried to kill me. The only family I ever knew, and they poisoned me and left me for dead."
Adria almost felt sympathy for the thief. "Real families aren't always better, Bilbus. I was raised by a nursemaid. I hardly ever saw my mother -- I don't think she really liked us, and she was often ill. My father ignored me until recently, when he decided he needed to start finding a nice family to marry me off to so he can increase his standings in the Dales. My eldest brother has spent his entire life learning to run father's estates, and my other brother spends most of his time drunk, because he's angry he's not the oldest male heir."
"It's nice to know the life of nobility is so far and above that of we mere commoners," Bilbus replied sarcastically. "So, tell me about this mercenary who taught you to protect yourself."
"Jerryn?" she asked. She felt the wave of emotion wash through her as she thought of him. She realized Bilbus was still waiting for an answer. "He taught me for five years. We ... we worked together. Some men deserve justice, and their station as nobility should not be a shield."
She paused, realizing Bilbus did not understand. She did not want to elaborate, either.
"He trained me for five years. Rapier, dagger, throwing weapons, more... He got caught because I was stupid. I had been sneaking out regularly for five years. The guards who were aware of it had taken bribes from me. They wouldn't talk. But we had a new guard, and he saw me slip out of the house one night. He must have followed me all the way to Jerryn's apartment in town.
"Jerryn was teaching me some knife fighting techniques. The next thing I remember, my father broke the door down. Can you imagine what it must have been like? Lord del Quintin's nineteen year old daughter, prime material to marry off to a rich family, got caught playing with knives with a commoner. I was surprised my father didn't kill Jerryn on the spot.
"I talked to my father that night. We made a business arrangement. Father would not kill Jerryn, and I would be his perfect little girl. Jerryn was banished. My father decided to let me have leave of the household for a while to collect myself before marrying me. He sent me to Portsdale, where he could have some old family friends keep an eye on me until he was ready to send for me."
Bilbus looked at her, weighing his responses. It was obvious that Jerryn was more to Adria than a mere instructor. "Your father banished Jerryn. He never said you could not see him again. I have a lot of friends in a lot of cities. Tell me what this Jerryn looks like, and I will have them keep an eye out."
Adria looked at him in shock. She had promised her father to behave, and now this thief was offering to find Jerryn? "Out!" she shouted. "Get out!" Adria stood quickly, ushering Bilbus towards the door that he tried desperately to open. "Get out!" She shoved him through the door.
"Adria! Good gods! At least give me my book!"
She threw it at him and slammed the door shut. She leaned against the door for a moment, looking at her tiny room. She felt the heaves of sobs welling in her as she walked over to her small desk, looking at the letter she had written for her father. She set down heavily on her bed, pushing her travel pack off of it roughly, and slammed her fist into her pillow several times.
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Second Draft 03 September 2001
Original Draft 17 September 2000
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