Category: DunDunDaaa

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12-Tribute

I made a careful search of my tiny chambers before cleaning up and again crawling into the deliciously comfortable bed. I didn’t find any peep holes or slits in the walls, just a fresh set of clothes hanging in the wardrobe. It wasn’t unreasonable for the Captain of the Guard to talk to one of the most influential leanyodi, but he’d made such a big deal about rumors I found it irritating that an entire day hadn’t gone by before he’d blabbed.

Quill and I had lingered over the letters after Eliah had gone to bed. He sifted through them over and over, and I’d told him everything Galo had told me. Galo hadn’t anything about the young Empire to the north beyond Angareth’s desire to remain independent. But when I closed my eyes, I could almost feel its borders, far north and east, like an old sadness lingering at the back of my mind.

It took longer than I wanted to fall sleep, and when I awoke in the morning my fingers were curled around the hilts of Shiharr and Azzad. I itched for a fight but had to content myself with stretches before I dressed for the day. The clothes were the same cut as the day prior, but a deep purple. I had just finished applying generous kohl to my eyes when Galo arrived in the same purple clothes and applied the white streak across my cheeks to match hers. Another morning of audiences before we spent the afternoon preparing for the trip to Gar Morwen.

“Galo,” I said, as soon as she was putting the white paint away, “How did you know I used the Villaban salute? I have never saluted the Countess in that fashion.”

A faint red flush tinged her cheeks and she straightened her back, tucking the paint case into a pocket. “It’s my business to know.”

I arched my brow, “The Captain of the Guard reports to you?”

“Only when he’s been shut up in the chambers of one of the leanyodi,” retorted Galo with more bite than I’d expected.

I recoiled a bit, “Galo,” it was as unsettling as calming a spooked horse you’d previously found unshakable, “Captain Druskin insisted on testing my fighting skill. I insisted on not being the only leanyodi to train with him in the yard because I’m supposed to blend in. Sparring with the door open would have been worse.”

“Yes,” Galo sniffed, “I’m aware.” She pushed the bedroom door open and I followed her out, wondering what in Serrifis Quill had gotten me into. We were almost to the kitchens before I felt Galo’s hackles lower.

The kitchen was a long, bustling room with a stone floor and a ceiling of wooden beams. Pots, pans, and drying herbs hung from the beams, and long wooden table filled the whole center of the room. A fireplace flanked by a company of stone ovens took an entire wall. A doorway led to another kitchen on the other side of the fireplace wall. Servants were everywhere, either eating at the long table or tending the fires or chopping or stirring. The scent of onions and herbs tickled my nose. Three leanyodi also clad in purple were just finishing their breakfast at the table. I recognized two of them as having been with us in the hall yesterday. Both brunettes, the brown eyed one was Brell—who had said Ilya Terr was handsome—and the blue eyed one was Karolya. I did not know the third, who had black hair and was bent over a ledger, with a pile of papers and her half-finished breakfast beside her.

“Good morning,” said Galo, brightly, as if she hadn’t steamed at me the whole way down here.

“Galo,” smiled Brell as she stood up, “Karolya and I were just about to go to the hall to make sure everything is ready for the last of the audiences.”

“Perfect,” Galo sat at the table, and I slipped onto the bench across from her.

Karolya looked at me as she stood up, “How are you feeling after your first day of standing?”

“I’m well,” I gave her a small smile. I probably looked tired, but it was due more to fitful sleep than the prior day’s duties.

Karolya reached over and squeezed my hand, “You’ll get used to it. The first week is the hardest.”  She looked to Galo, “Galo.”

“I’ll see you in the hall,” replied Galo in acknowledgement.

As soon as Brell and Karolya walked away, a servant placed bowls of white mush in front of us. Galo bowed her head and I followed suit before digging in. I did not love the white mush, though it was rich in onion and bacon flavors for some mysterious reason. It was food, so I ate it.

“Hadella,” Galo turned to the remaining leanyod, “How are preparations for the journey?”

Hadella’s head snapped up as if she hadn’t even noticed we were here. “Galo, good morning.” Her eyes shifted to me, “Zephra, is it? Good to see you.”

“Good morning,” I replied.

“These are the accounts from yesterday, I’ve been working on them since audiences ended yesterday.” Hadella sighed heavily, “It’s always this way before a long journey, everything has to be done ahead of time and then new work appears where there wasn’t any.”

“Are there normally gifts when she holds audience days?” I asked, making myself start another bite of mush.

“No,” Hadella took a quick bite of her own food before turning back to the ledger, “Tribute is in the fall. This…this is sentiment.”

Galo put in, “These are wedding gifts, they are proper.”

“They are,” said Hadella, making a little mark in the book, “But I have a great many letters to write this morning once I’m done here, and before I review the steward’s preparations for the journey to Gar Morwen. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” Galo shifted so she was turned slightly away from Hadella, signifying just how much she wasn’t going to interrupt the leanyod’s work. “Hadella runs most of the day-to-day for Wuhnravinwel,” Galo explained. “Brell has a gift for languages, Karolya understands farming and the needs of the earth…Each of us has a particular role to play for the Countess.”

“What’s yours?” I asked, before I could evaluate if that was a safe question.

“I manage the leanyodi,” answered Galo, “I make sure the Countess has everything she needs.” Her eyes flicked at me, “I’m in charge of you.”

I swallowed the last of my mush in a final effort and flashed her a smile. “Lucky you.” I tipped my head at Hadella, “What letters is she writing?”

“One of the reasons the Countess is so loved: they are letters of thanks for the gifts. Normally, at the time of Tribute, she sends one letter to each town. On good years, there is a gift with it of some sort—usually a cask of something intended for the Festival of Lights—but when even a lowborn family brings her a gift, she sends a letter saying thank you.” The leanyod’s face softened, “Even those who cannot read treasure her letters. What lord bothers to say thank you for his due?”

 

*

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10-Letters

At the end of the audiences, my muscles ached from standing and the only thing I wanted was the gorgeous sunken tub. And dinner, of course. The Countess also looked tired, and left the great hall immediately to have a private dinner in her chambers. A different set of leanyodi went with her while the six of us who’d been with her all day scattered. Before I could sneak off to find the kitchens, Galo caught my eye and beckoned me to follow. She led me through the fortress and back up the winding stairs to the chamber with the bookshelves and the telescope where we’d met the Countess the night before.  Galo went to a little desk tucked behind one of the bookshelves and unlocked a drawer. She handed me a stack of letters ten deep, tied with a ribbon. I untied the ribbon and thumbed the stack. “This seems excessive.”

Galo crossed her arms, “It’s a blood feud.”

I looked up at her in surprise, “Some of these have seals!”

She nodded.

As if she’d misunderstood me, I held up the stack, pointing to red wax pressed deep by a signet ring.

“It’s a blood feud,” repeated Galo. “Many of the lords were very angry when they heard what the King had agreed to.”

I walked to one of the narrow tables and sank into one of its chairs, flipping through the letters more slowly this time. “This really doesn’t seem like…the sort of thing one does if actually contemplating treason.” Fully six of the letters had seals.

“It is unlikely any of these lords will take further action,” said Galo, closing and locking the drawer again and coming to sit in a chair across the table from me. “They have made their statement.”

I tapped one of the letters, “This one isn’t very threatening—Adorjan Bulgar sounds more like a disconsolate lover.”

Galo pursed her lips. “Well, he’s disconsolate. Certainly.”

“‘The flower of your beauty should not be uprooted and flung on the ungrateful elves,’” I read, “Or further on, ‘Do not waste your heart so,’ then ‘it would pollute the springs.’”

“As if she could deny our king,” muttered Galo, plucking lint off her sleeve.

I turned to study her. Though we’d been standing a few feet from one another most of the day, I hadn’t had much chance to evaluate or speak to Galo. I knew from our first meeting that she was direct, at least. She had thick, straight hair that was almost black. It was currently twisted into an elaborate pile on her head but strands were escaping after so many hours. Her skin was olive, darker than mine, and the white streak painted across her cheekbones stood out starkly in the fading light. “How do you feel about the treaty?”

She returned my measuring look. “I support my lady.”

I waited.

With a sigh Galo continued, “The treaty is difficult for her, but she has been expecting it for some time. Neither Angareth nor Terrimbir can face the Empire of Daiesen alone, and neither wishes to forfeit their freedom. We need more than uneasy peace, we need alliance. This marriage binds the royal families and settles the oldest part of their dispute. My lady understands its importance, as do I and the other leanyodi. Lord Ilya Terr seems noble enough, but even if he was not, my lady would bear it.”

Nodding, I turned back to the letters.

After a moment of silence, Galo asked, “How did you become a mercenary?”

When I looked up, Galo was watching me closely, and it took great effort not to stiffen.

She continued, leaning forward, “Female mercenaries are usually the daughters of knights, but you are not just the daughter of a knight. You speak Angari with the accent of a noble, and carried yourself all day as a lady of breeding. You have clearly studied our customs but they are not your customs, and you use the Villaban salute. You are of marriable age—probably should be married already—yet wear no ring.”

I swallowed.  So, Galo had talked to Druskin. The man would start rumors himself.

“Are you a bastard?”

My mouth opened in surprise.

Galo’s lips tipped in a satisfied smile.

Recovering, I sucked in a breath and asked, “Why are you not in charge of this investigation?”

She snorted. “I am a leanyod. Answer the question.”

I looked at the letters, measuring my response before I looked back at her. “My father is a lord in Cartahayna.” Smuggling lord. “I have not been home in some time.” Not to any of the places I’d called home.

Galo sat back, pleased with herself. Then she said, “Has anyone told you what prompted the King to hire Quilleran?”

“No, but I’m interested.”

“Someone tried to drop a roofing tile on my lady when she was walking in the King’s garden. Druskin barely pulled her away in time.”

“It wasn’t an accident?”

“Of course not. No one was supposed to be working on the roof that day, and when the guards made it to the roof there was no sign of anyone. Two days later, there was a venomous snake left in a basket outside the Countess’s door.”

“Did no one tell Quilleran when he was hired?”

Galo shook her head.

“He was hired to find who wants to kill her, and not told there had been attempts made—just a stack of mean-spirited letters that are signed?”

“He was hired in public; the King did not see fit to tell the public everything.”

I bit my tongue. Galo didn’t need to hear me snarling about how there were plenty of opportunities to give Quill information in private.

“Besides,” continued Galo, “It is Druskin who needs to keep guards on the rooftops now. Not Quilleran.”

My scoff slipped out, but before Galo could respond the door opened and a servant came in carrying a tray of steaming food. I brightened. The servant set the tray on the table next to us, and left when Galo thanked and dismissed her. There were two bowls of stew, along with two cups and a decanter of wine. I moved the letters aside, breathing in the sage and rosemary scent of the stew. “Tell me about the lords who sent these letters, Galo. And anything you know about the treaty negotiations.”

*

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8 -Testing the Water

The rooms where Galo brought me were just down the hallway from the Countess’s chambers. They were small…but luxurious after weeks on the road. The walls were covered in tapestries depicting horsemen, falconers, and rolling hills of grass. Heavy curtains covered tall windows. The bed was set into the wall, and when I tested it, definitely stuffed with feathers. There was a bookshelf filled with books, an exquisitely carved desk and chair, then a chair with wings by the fire. I noticed my saddlebags had been delivered and were sitting on the floor by the chair. A wardrobe stood to one side, already hung with clothes in the same style that Galo wore, but blue, and a nightgown. A large oval mirror adorned the wall beside the wardrobe and a narrow door on the other side led to a tiled washroom.  Mosaics in pale blue patterns outlined the large sunken tub that was fed by two copper spigots. There was a pile of thick towels folded neatly beside the bath, and a tray bearing an assortment of soaps and oils in colored glass bottles. “Private hot baths,” I smiled, leaning on the doorframe and admiring the set up. “You do know the way to a girl’s heart.”

Another narrow door on the other side of the washroom led to a toilet. I could only hope the palace at Gar Morwen was as perfectly appointed. I wasted no time turning the spigots and grinning stupidly as water began to pour into the tub.  Steam rose from one of the streams, and I noticed the mineral scent of the water. Were they piping in from the hot springs or was all the water around here mineral rich? I adjusted the knobs until I was satisfied with the temperature and then wandered out of the washroom to look at the bookshelf while the tub filled. The books were mostly philosophy and economics. One or two were in Terrim, the language of the elves. There was a whole section devoted to political theory and another to geology. I ran my finger over the spines before returning to the washroom empty handed. I probably shouldn’t dunk one of those fine volumes in the bath, though I might have dared if there had been an epic.

Listening to the comforting rush of water, I unbuckled my harness of knives and set it on the desk. The belt of knives was next, then the sleeve sheathes. My two finest knives, curving beauties named Shiharr and Azzad, I tucked under the pillows of the bed. I shucked my boots and breeches, then my shirt and underthings. Leaving the boots by the desk, I dropped the clothes, and the clothes from my saddle bags, in a basket near the door for the servants to collect in the morning. I returned to the washroom and slipped into the tub before it was even finished filling. My gold pendant gleaming, I laid my head on the rolled lip of the tub and watched the blue tendrils bloom across my body. Here, so far from the Empire, nymphs were safe and the privacy was less essential. But I was so accustomed to keeping my heritage a secret that the locked door was comforting.

I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander. I was curious about the job that had brought Quill and his crew to the south in the first place. We’d been so busy preparing for this job there really hadn’t been an opportunity to pry on our trip down here. When the water was dangerously close to the lip of the tub, I turned off the spigots and started to soap. I was curious…but patient. I’d get my chance to wheedle at Quill. Maybe even Eliah.

I dawdled my way through washing and rinsing. Mulling over the evening conversation with the Countess and pondering the coming wedding. It was quite late and the water was noticeably cool by the time I set the tub to draining. I made only a cursory attempt at drying off with the towels before pulling on my nightgown and burrowing under the feather coverlet to lose myself to sleep, skin still laced with blue.

*

I awoke early, my body aware of the sun graying the horizon even if the curtains blocked it out. I threw the curtains open and admired the view of the hazy gray ramparts of the fortress. I donned the set of clothes I’d found hanging in the wardrobe the night before. Under the collared coat there were fitted trousers and a silk shirt that closed with a thousand tiny buttons. My sleeveless undershirt, a thick second skin designed by a friend, was invisible under the blue silk and kept the harness of knives from pinching. I buttoned the three ornate buttons of the long, collared coat overtop it all. Everything was the same deep blue, and I found a pair of matching blue silk slippers on the floor of the wardrobe. I found a little tin of hairpins in the drawers on the left side of the wardrobe and was standing in front of the mirror restrain my curls in a bun when a knock sounded at the door. Half my hair tumbled down when I lowered my hands, I sighed.

Sliding the lock back and I opened the door, stopping in surprise. “Captain Druskin.”

The Captain of the Guard looked stunned, taking in my blue silk and then staring at my half loose curls as if he’d never seen hair before. “You’re dressed.”

I arched a brow. “Disappointed?” I asked dryly.

Druskin reddened, opened his mouth, closed it, and then said. “Change.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t spar in those, and I want to see exactly what you’re capable of before I trust you with the Countess.”

I considered the man, dressed in leathers with his long black hair braided. “Do you practice with all the leanyodi?”

“No.” Druskin crossed his arms, “In order to get my support in making you a leanyod, Quilleran said you had skills. I want to know if I made a mistake.”

I folded my arms, mirroring Druskin. “I’d be delighted to give you a demonstration, but I very much doubt I’d have time to change, spar, bathe, dress again, and still be on time for my first day serving the Countess.”

His features creased into a frown. “Hian Ruddybruck…”

“It would also be unwise to train with me in a public place unless you also train with the other leanyodi.”

“Train with the other leanyodi?” Druskin exclaimed…then after a hesitation, “I will send word to the Countess to expect you later.”

“Alright. Then I’d suggest you fetch practice weapons while I change clothes. We can spar in my chambers.”

For a moment, I thought Druskin would just stare at me. Then he said, “Well, you are not Angari.”

I smiled and stepped back to close my door. Fishing the pins out of my hair I braided it instead. It only took me a moment to shed the fine blue clothes and don my breeches, shirt and my leather jerkin. I pulled on my boots, buckled on my knives, and waited for Druskin to return. I was sipping water and wondering how I would get breakfast when a knock sounded at the door.

Druskin was standing in the hallway holding several wooden practice weapons. His eyes went to my harness of knives. I stepped aside, “Please, come in.”

Hesitantly, Druskin stepped into the room and watched me close the door behind him. “Don’t make a habit of shutting men into your rooms,” said the Captain, tossing me one of the practice swords. “It would easily create scandal. Especially in Gar Morwen.”

I tested the weight of the sword, grateful the Angari preferred curved blades. I’d encountered broadsword fighting in the past, and it did not play well to my advantages. “Noted. Perhaps in the future you should train all your leanyodi to fight so that we can practice in a more conventional setting.” I made the first strike without warning.

Druskin blocked and parried with ease, tossing a couple shorter wooden sticks onto the bed as he advanced. The space was tiny to start with and seemed to shrink the moment swords started swinging. We were careful and calculating. Swords weren’t my best weapon, and I noticed a rhythm to the match which suggested Druskin was playing with me. At least we could establish that he was no slouch with a weapon. It wasn’t long before I was sweaty and ready end it. On my next attack I feinted, he moved to block and I darted inside his guard. I abandoned my sword to block his sword arm from swinging back and drove my left fist into Druskin’s diaphragm. Druskin stumbled back as the air whooshed from his lungs.

“Are you alright?” I asked, dancing back out of reach just in case.

The Captain of the Guard grunted, “I’m fine.” He looked up, a glint in his eyes, “And you’re unarmed.” He lunged forward, swinging for my ribs. I twisted away, knocking into the wardrobe but reducing the strength of his blow. His eyes flashed in triumph, and I grinned back, I was next to the bed now. I caught up one of the short sticks and threw it. He tried to dodge, but the stick still struck him in the thigh. The next stick hit him in the shoulder before clattering harmlessly to the ground.

“If those were blades, you’d be in a lot of pain,” I said.

“If this were a blade,” he saluted with the wooden sword, “You’d be dead.”

I snorted as I touched two fingers to my heart, the salute of Villaba. “Merely wounded.”

“Where did you learn to fight?” asked Druskin, bending to pick up the various sticks, including my sword, from the floor.

“Anywhere anyone would teach me.”

“Sacrificing your weapon was unwise.”

“Normally I’d use a knife instead of my fist.”

Druskin looked down at himself. “I appreciate your restraint.”

“I thought you might,” I crossed my arms and watched him bundle all the weapons under his arm. “I’m not a bodyguard, Captain. You should not think of me as such. My life is not sworn to the Countess, nor will it be.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Hian Ruddybrook.”

“Please, call me Zephra.” Even that pained me, but it was better than the formality of Hian Ruddybrook.

“Zephra,” continued Druskin, “I will not rely on you as one of my guard, but I now know your worth in a fight.”

“Do you expect there to be a fight?” I asked.

“I hope so,” growled the captain, moving toward the door, “Swords and knives I can handle.”

*

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Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

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7-Proper Greetings

 

 

The five of us fell in behind the servant. He hauled all our weapons in a roll of canvas as he led us down a different winding stair and down a long hallway lit by iron lamps faced with colored glass. A pair of heavy doors at the end of the hallway led to a long and relatively narrow chamber. Windows covered with heavy drapes lined one wall, a huge hearth flanked by four ornate doors dominated the inner wall. Cushioned furniture was arranged in little conversational groups throughout the glorified hallway. We filed in like ducks, and the servant deposited the roll of weapons on a narrow table by the entrance. He proceeded to the furthest doors and opened them, bowing saying, “Kimro Ruddybrook,” then opening a closer set, “Quilleran.” The servant bowed again and exited back the way he’d brought us.

As soon as the door closed Eliah looked at me, “Rabbit!”

I threw my arms around her. “Butcher.” Then I turned and embraced Jemin. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Zephra,” replied the burly man, his teeth flashing white behind his beard as we stepped away. He clasped hands with Quill and Ayglos. “Always good to see the Ruddybrooks.”

Jemin and Eliah both knew our real names, and why we weren’t using them.

Ayglos started to prowl around the room, looking at the furniture and tapestries. “You were not exaggerating when you said they treat the Countess like a queen.”

Quill crossed to a couch near the fire and sprawling across it. “My impression has been that the old clan chiefs—who are now Counts and Countesses—are treated like kings and queens in their own holdings. They serve the King with the same reverence they themselves command.” Quill looked at Eliah, “Anything interesting happen while I was away?”

I moved to the weapons and began picking out my knives and returning them to their hiding places. No one else moved toward the table, but no one else was moving to a different part of the castle. Rabanki left Ayglos’s shoulder to come alight on the table of knives, plucking at the pommels. I glared warningly at the bird. Rabanki cocked his head in innocence.

Behind me, Jemin said, “Eliah had a shooting contest with Druskin.”

“Rat,” quipped Eliah.

“Very low profile,” said Quill dryly. “Who won?”

Eliah gave an indignant snort. “I did!”

When I looked, Quill had his face in his hands.

“He started it,” continued Eliah, “he invited Jemin to spar and didn’t believe me when I said I was a good shot.”

“And being right is no fun if no one knows,” put in Jemin, then he laughed.

I turned in time to see the dark look Eliah had leveled at the burly man. The daughter of a king’s huntsman, Eliah had turned out to be a natural with a bow. A skill that had radically changed her life and made her an asset to any crew. In the three years I’d known the gregarious woman, archery was the only thing for which she had patience. I picked up my last, and finest, daggers, and slid them into the sheaths on my back, “How was the southern tip of the continent?”

“Hot,” said Eliah.

“Did you see any dinrodiles?” asked Ayglos, coming to sit in a nearby chair. Rabanki left the knives and alighted on the back of Ayglos’s chair.

“Only at dinner. Tastes like catfish scrambled up with boar,” said Jemin.

“That sounds disgusting.” I dropped onto the chair closest to the fire. It was undoubtedly stuffed with feathers, and I thought I might never get up.

“I liked it well enough,” shrugged Jemin, crossing to the fireplace and investigating the tea service that dominated a small table.

“While we’re all here,” interrupted Quill, collecting himself from his sprawl to an upright position that still, somehow, took up the entire couch, “And before Zare is swept away from us, we need to talk about a few things.”

“Yes, as it turns out there are great many things I don’t love about this job,” I crossed my ankles and folded my fingers across my stomach.

Eliah smirked. “Lucky you with the upbringing and language training to fit in with courtly functions.”

“I should have been a peasant.” But I smiled as I accepted a cup of hot tea from Jemin.

Quill ignored us. “Zare will be a leanyod, so we won’t be able to communicate freely with her. If anyone asks, we met her in Wuhnravinwel when we met the rest of the Countess’s people. Everyone at the court knows that the King hired me to snoop around—not that he asked in public—they also saw Eliah when we made our initial visit. So, Eliah and I will play the part of visitors at court, mingling, doing as much investigating as we can with everyone well aware of our purpose.” Quill paused to accept the cup Jemin offered him. “They have not seen Jemin or Ayglos, so they are our shadows in the city. I expect to be kept apprised of all the gossip in the taverns and alleys and marketplaces.”

Ayglos and Jemin both grinned.

“We need to find out who stands to gain from the death of the Countess,” I added.

“Or from a war with Terrimbir,” said my brother.

“That’s where we start,” agreed Quill. He turned to me, “Once you leave this room tonight, we’ll need to be very careful how we communicate with you. Only a handful of people here are to know about your connection to me, and no one at Gar Morwen does. We need to establish a time and place to meet daily, both here and at Gar Morwen.”

I nodded, “I’ll talk to the Countess tomorrow.” Then I doffed my tea, “Find out what they’re going to do with me.”

“It’ll be fun, Zare,” Ayglos steepled his fingers, “Code words and secret meeting places.”

“Just another day in the life, Fox,” I replied, “I meant, what sort of responsibilities they’ll give. There is always at least one leanyod with the Countess. They stand behind her chair in meetings, on judgement days, sit beside her at feasts…At night, two of them sleep in an antechamber should she need anything…they go to meetings and represent her to the farthest reaches of her holdings.” I paused to sip my tea, then added, “I might be chained to her side for the next while.”

“You’ll have to find some way to get away,” said Quill, “Otherwise, I’ll be forced to kidnap you.”

 

*

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

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5-The Gig

“Elves?” I sat up from my spot curled on the couch next to Ayglos, my feet thumping on the woven carpet. “You said the job was in Angareth.”

Quill nodded from where he sat, teacup ignored in his hand. We’d left the horses at the stable and slipped into the inn through the kitchen and servants’ stairs. I thought one or two of the fancy southern merchants had been Angari, it must be them he was avoiding. Ayglos had been waiting for us at the suite and had already placed an order for his own breakfast and a tea service. After greetings were out of the way and food delivered, Quill had settled in to explain the job.

“How much do you know about the relationship between Angareth and Terrimbir?” asked Quill.

I made a face. “They’ve been squabbling over hot springs for generations.” My childhood tutoring had been cut off by the wars that made the Empire, but I picked up some things while marauding the world.

“The elves of Terrimbir claim that the hot springs were a gift to them from Tirien,” Ayglos had pulled a little table close the couch so he could eat while we talked. Rabanki had claimed the mantel and was devouring a piece of sausage. “A reward for curing the forest from a disease.”

“Right,” confirmed Quill, “The Wuhn of Angareth have lived and hunted by the springs for centuries and claim that it belongs to them because they were there first.”

“Were they?” I asked, sipping at the tea. It was not spectacular.

Both men shrugged. Ayglos grunted, “Who knows?”

“With the Empire burgeoning up north, some of the powers in Terrimbir and Angareth decided that being allies is more important at this time than fighting over the springs.” Quill’s brown eyes found mine. “What better way to make peace than with a marriage?”

My jaw dropped. Marriage alliances were perfectly normal, but cross race marriages were rare, and royal cross race marriages…There had only been one of those in the past three hundred years and it had been my parents.

Ayglos put down his toast. “Holy heaven, who’s doing the honors?”

“Not the crown prince,” said Quill, “They aren’t quite ready for that. But the King’s niece, Countess Adelheid, who happens to be from the Wuhn clan, is now engaged to the Lord of Linden.”

I whistled. “Isn’t he the cousin of the High Lord of Terrimbir?”

“He is.”

Ayglos picked up his toast again. “A royal wedding sounds fun, but what’s the job?”

A faint smile touched Quill’s mouth, “As you can imagine, tensions are running high. The feud is longstanding, and there have been threats against both parties, but especially against Countess Adelheid. If either party is killed, it’s very likely that war will break out between Angareth and Terrimbir.”

“You’re…a bodyguard?” I took another sip of my tea and frowned. “Doesn’t she have her own?”

“Eloi, not a bodyguard,” Quill scoffed, “She has her own. I’m a spy. An investigator. They hired me to find the person trying to kill the Countess.”

“However did you manage that?”

A tip of his chin, “I can be very persuasive.”

“Why-ever did you manage that, is a better question,” put in my brother.

“Truth be told, I was in Angareth on other business when this popped up. If we succeed, the King will owe me a favor.” Quill’s look was downright wicked, “I like it when kings owe me favors.”

“I thought there was also something about twenty thousand gold,” I said. As if he needed more favors from kings.

Ayglos choked, his hand halfway raised to offer biscuit to Rabanki. “Twenty thousand gold?”

“Yes, that, too,” Quill’s eyes were sparkling.

Rabanki guffawed, leaving the mantel to sit on Ayglos’s shoulder and take the biscuit. “Is this a two Galhari job, or one?” asked my brother, ignoring the bird.

“Two,” Quill stood and moved to the fireplace.

“Where’s,” I waved my hand, “Rakov, or whoever you were traveling with?”

“I left Jemin and Eliah in Angareth when I came to get you.” Quill replied.

“You took Eliah with you?” I was offended. “Instead of me?”

“She was already with us from a different job.”

I frowned at him. “What can Eliah do that I cannot?”

“Hit a crabapple at a hundred yards,” he replied smoothly.

“Do you often need defending from crabapples?”

“Regardless,” Quill leaned his back against the mantel, crossing his arms, “I came to find you now. Angari culture is rather more reserved than most of Daiesen. Lots of pageantry and rules. There are plenty of places Jemin and I can’t go, and I need someone with a little more social finesse than Eliah—and someone who can speak Angari like a noble.”

Ayglos laughed, “I can just picture Eliah mingling with ladies in waiting.”

The image of Eliah, blonde hair cut short and choppy, knife in her teeth as she strung a bow, tried to blend with the image of ladies in silks bent over embroidery in a gilded room. A laugh coughed out of me. “This job requires mingling with ladies in waiting? My price just went up.”

“Too late,” said Quill, “You already agreed.”

“Verbally.”

He smirked, uncrossing his arms and pulling a folded paper out of his pocket, “There’s one other thing you won’t love about this job: You cannot come as Zare Caspian. Pick a different name.”

I pursed my lips. He was right. I didn’t love it.

He began tearing up the paper, feeding it piece by piece into remains of the morning fire. The shreds curled in the heat and I caught a glimpse of dark curly hair and dark eyes. The wanted notice. “I’d rather not have to worry about someone realizing they could finance a skilled assassin by turning you over to the Empire.”

Ayglos set his hand on his chest, “Kimro Ruddybrook,” then pointed at me, “Zephra Ruddybrook.”

I snorted. “Ruddy brook” was bit on the nose of our monster hunting job.

“Excellent,” Quill straightened and again reached into his jerkin, pulling out a thin sheaf of paper and tossing it on the little table next to Ayglos’s breakfast. “Your contract. We leave as soon as you’re done eating.”

*

 

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

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4-Breakfast

I arrived at Curry’s Catch at seven. The long building was a glorified shack sitting right on the dock, and it reeked of bait, fish, and fried food. I could hear voices and the occasional laugh inside. A handful of horses loitered at the hitching rail, and his bay, Brimborren, was among them. I noted a crossbow and sword nestled among the saddlebags. Dismounting, I flipped Hook’s reins over the rail, and gave both horses a scratch as they greeted one another. It’d been awhile.

I touched my knives, scanning the docks as I approached the open door. Ayglos was somewhere nearby, wandering the docks and keeping a weather eye. One could never be too careful when your invitation had come on a wanted poster. Even if—especially if—it was from an old friend.

As I stepped into the dim interior, my nose wrinkled as the scent of fried food and bait became overwhelming. I found him immediately; he was standing at a long counter to the right talking to the large woman behind it. And he was already looking at me, a smile teasing at his lips, as if he’d sensed my approach. Eloi, he looked good. His hair and skin had been burnished by weeks in the southern sun. He wore traveling clothes in mostly worn browns, tall boots coated with road dust, not a few knives tucked here and there. In the cool of the morning he wore a leather jerkin, but it hung open over his open collar shirt. He looked fresh off the road and fresh off success. I hadn’t seen him since he’d left on that job on the southern tip of the continent last fall, and my whole soul warmed to see Quilleran Rhydderick alive and well.

Quill stepped away from the counter carrying a platter. He jerked his chin for me to follow him to a spot removed from the other patrons. There were a goodly number of patrons—all of whom I’d glazed over entirely when I’d seen Quill. Bad form. I scanned the room quickly, they were hairy fishermen mostly, a few cattle hands mixed in, and they didn’t care at all about us. I strolled after Quill, turning my attention back to him, looking him over for injuries or anything out of place. He moved easily, strong and light on his feet.

He picked a spot where we could both keep an eye on the door. “You’re early,” he set the platter down and slid onto the bench.

I dropped onto the bench across from him and slapped the folded paper containing my likeness onto the table between us.

His smile broadened into a roguish grin, his eyes bright, “Did you like my note?”

I frowned at him, but it took an effort. “You’d better hope the servants didn’t see it; some people would turn their mothers in for less.”

“Please. You eat assassins for breakfast.” He picked up the paper and flicked it open, making a show of admiring my likeness. “I thought you’d appreciate seeing the latest price.”

I did, in fact. “Where did you get it?”

“At the border crossing between Magadar and the Empire.”

I smirked. Maybe hitting that caravan this past winter had been a little much, but it had been very satisfying. “Any for Ayglos?”

“No,” his grin quirked, “There was one with a description of a handsome dark-haired companion, but no picture. So vague as to be useless. Almost as if no one spent hours gazing at his face before giving a description.”

My eyes rolled. One mistake. One time. “Really? You, too?”

He folded the paper and slipped into a pocket inside his jerkin. “Have you had breakfast?”

I shook my head, turning my attention to the platter for the first time. Fried fish, biscuits and…some sort of white paste…it smelled good. Once I sorted the smell of the platter from all the other smells in the room. Quill handed me a fork. “Lucky for you, I knew you’d be early. I got enough for two. Though, Ayglos will have to fend for himself out there.”

I took the offered fork and twirled it through my fingers. “Why the note? Why not join us at the inn last night?”

“Ayglos was making a killing, you were reading.” He shrugged. Then, seeing my look, he added, “I felt my visit would make far too great an impression on the other guests. Word travels.”

I thought of the fancy merchants but decided to leave it for now and speared the fish with my fork. Internally, I blessed the food, adding a prayer for Eloi to preserve me from harm. Just in case. Eloi must’ve heard, because the first bite melted in my mouth just the way fish should, and I nearly moaned from pleasure. Inspired, I dipped my fork in the paste and tried it. Holy heaven. Butter and spices and a faint burn sizzled through my mouth. I smeared some paste on the fish and tried them together. Blessed harmony. I caught amusement in Quill’s eyes as I scraped extra paste onto another bite of fish. As if he’d drag me from the second most expensive inn in Tanglewood Springs to a dumpy fish shack for bad food. I arched a shoulder at him. Point.

We ate listening to the hum of fishermen discussing the morning’s catch, and our meal was mostly gone before I asked, “Why are you here, Quill?”

“Because I was told this place,” he waved his fork at the unremarkable shack surrounding us, “was the best breakfast in Tanglewood Springs.”

Very funny. “Why are you in Tanglewood Springs?”

“Looking for you.”

“Really?” I was surprised. “Why?”

Quill finished his half of the fish before replying. “I’ve got a job for you, if you want it.”

My brows went up. “What kind of job?”

“A job that requires a woman’s touch.”

I stared at him.

Quill set down his fork and stared back, one brow raised.

“What in Serrifis kind of job is that?”

His grin returned, slow and enthralling, “You’ll love it.”

“I’m less sure about that.”

“Three words,” he held up three fingers and ticked them down as he spoke, “Private. Hot. Baths.”

I leaned back. “You do know the way to a girl’s heart.” Also, how to find me in any city anywhere in the world. “How long?”

He considered. “By midsummer we will either be successful…or not.”

“Where?”

“Angareth.”

My brother and I had planned to spend the summer working our way southeast through Villaba toward the coastal city of Cartahayna, a glittering bed of silversmiths and tall ships. Angareth was southwest. Completely the other direction “What’s the job?”

“It involves twenty thousand gold, saving a woman’s life, and hopefully stopping a war before it starts.”

“That’s all?” my scoff was entirely ironic. I tapped the table as I considered. Or, pretended to consider. Fact was that I could never resist when Quill had a job. He had this gift for impossible things which I found utterly thrilling. “I’m interested,” I leaned forward, “Come to my suite and we’ll discuss the details over tea.”

*

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

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1-Monsters in the Water

I had spent three days perched in a gnarly oak tree watching for monsters, and I was bored. My branch extended over a little river, commanding clear view of the river and the fields on either side—not that there was anything to see. Cattle lazed peacefully in tall green grass to my left. Plowed earth filled the world to my right. Behind me, if I looked, I would see the distant blue ridge of the Phas Mountains. A pretty view. The river in front of me was wide and lazy and had many places where the banks dipped low, and many other places you could swim in deep, clear pools.

Quiet.

Good fishing.

And no monsters in sight.

I chewed on a stalk of grass, absently watching the tip toss. The thing about hunting was that you couldn’t bring a book.

Spring was bleeding into summer and the days were warm enough that I’d ditched my leather jerkin on the first day out here. The breeze obligingly licked through the linen shirt I wore under my harness of knives, soothing the burn of the late afternoon sun.

A three-note whistle came from upriver. My brother, Ayglos, checking in on his younger sister. I removed the grass long enough to repeat the three-note whistle back.

My brother had gotten us this monster hunting job. We were fresh off a job tracking down a bounty—a murderer we’d caught up with just a few days ride from here. Ayglos had gone into Tanglewood Springs for supplies while I took a nap in a puddle of sunshine. Of the two of us, he was less notable, so he did most of the errands when we were riding together.

At the outfitter, he’d struck up a conversation with a Master Hadrake’s foreman. Turns out, Master Hadrake’s cattle were disappearing, and his herdsmen swore up and down that a scaled beast with hideous claws had risen from the river to claim the cows. It had gotten so bad most of the herdsmen refused to come anywhere near the river and the foreman was hitting up all the taverns and outfitters in Wimshell looking for new herdsmen. Ayglos had offered a different service. “Can’t pass up an ‘easy job,’” I muttered, biting down on the grass. Any chance to earn good money. It’s not like we had anywhere else to be for a few months. It was only a small comfort that Ayglos was sitting in a tree at another major watering spot. Just as bored as I was.

If I hadn’t seen massive clawed, webbed, tracks, in the soft river bank I would have assumed Master Hadrake was being robbed. I’d never heard of a river monster this far north. Though, despite being half-nymph, we’d spent rather less time hunting water monsters than one might suppose.

After three days of sitting in a tree by the herd’s favorite watering spot with nothing but insects and my thoughts for company, I was returning to the cattle rustler theory. We had tried to question the river itself when we first arrived, but it had been vague and uncooperative. Maybe the river thought we were crazy.

My stalk of grass snapped, and I nearly fell off the branch as I lunged to snatch it before it fell out of reach.

An uncertain moo sounded below. I looked down to see a cow craning her head to look at me, her large brown eyes set in a wide piebald face, ears flicking attentively. The whole herd was behind her, having picked their way over to the river while I’d been engrossed in my thoughts.

“It’s alright,” I told the cow, “I’m not the monster.” I waved vaguely at the river.

Her ears flicked. Unconvinced.

“I’m not. Go drink, I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

Cows were such skeptical creatures. I supposed they had a right, having lost several of their compatriots to the river in the past few weeks.

I swung my legs over the side of the branch and bowed at the waist, “Word of honor, my good cow, I, Zare Caspian of Galhara, am not the one killing your sistren.”

Eloi help me. Three days alone in a tree, and I, Zare Caspian of Galhara, Daughter of Zam the Great, Ghost of Nelia, Curse of the Empire, was losing my mind.

The cow blinked at me, as if agreeing with my thoughts. Then, with a shake of her head she turned and strolled to the water. Three others followed her down the slope to the water’s edge, and two waded in to drink half submerged. More from the herd started to amble over. I watched them, grass dangling from my fingers as my mind wandered far away to another river, swift and deep, that ran beside a breathtaking stone palace.

One of the cows vanished under the water with a bovine shriek. I cursed. Water churned, the black hooves of the cow breaking the surface in a desperate kick before a scaled ridge arched over them and both disappeared in a cloud of silt…and then blood…bellowing filled the air as the other cows fled. Leaping to my feet I drew a long knife and barely remembered to whistle for Ayglos before diving into the river.

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

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Title Reveal

It’s all fun and games until someone is stuck wearing hoop skirts and playing bait for an assassin. 

#mondayswithzare

I’m so excited you guys! Next Monday is the official release of the First Episode of The Hoopskirt Job. Can you believe it? You’re all like, “Yeah, we’ve been waiting for three months.” Yeah, yeah,  know. But if you rush a miracle you get a rotten miracle (Miracle Max was so wise).

Many thanks to my patrons, who’ve supported me as I wrote and brainstormed like a really stormy storm mage.

See you Monday!

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Launch Date

Hey everyone!

I have wonderful news, we have a launch date for the new Zare adventure! The story will resume February 4th, stay tuned for the release of the story name and the world map. Oh! And now we have a page devoted to keeping track of places and characters in the story, in case you get lost or turned about at any point. Thanks to keyboard short cuts it’s super easy to find who you are looking for.

If you want to be in the know and get things a bit early, check out Zare’s Patreon page where you can become part of the adventure.

Thank you so much Patrons for your continued support while the story has been in development!

I’m so grateful to have you all on this adventure with me.

 

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Legendary Art

Took a break to paint!

Typically, I have The Badlands Job, The River Rebellion, and the new story open all at the same time so I can work on them concurrently. There are so many moving parts, I’m so looking forward to launching this in the new year.

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