A Balance Broken (Dragonsoul Saga) (16 page)

Most of the emerald green cloaks gathered around Duke Aginor at the front table on a small dais. A silver tower set with sparkling emeralds hung on a thick chain about the duke’s neck. Tallen spied Jaerd among the royal blue cloaks of Boris, Magus Britt, and Sergeant Hall, who must have taken far shorter baths than he. Straightening his new robe, Tallen hurried to join them.

“Brother!” Jaerd nodded in approval when he approached. “The look suits you. We will be seated here at the end.” He leaned in closer when Tallen stepped up onto the dais. “A piece of advice – stay as far away from nobles as you can,
when
you can, especially at dinner.”

With his stomach grumbling, Tallen caught scent of the fresh baked bread. Slathering it in fresh butter, he and Jaerd devoured the first loaf set before them. From there, the meal sped by, timed to the musicians’ rhythm. The brothers caught up on recent events, both with the family and in the town of Dadric.

When the tale caught up to Jennette’s death, Tallen told it in as few words as possible. “It was awful, Jaerd. She was…mutilated.” He fought tears as he looked into his brother’s eyes. Jaerd stared back with sympathy. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I understand,” Jaerd whispered with a simple pat on Tallen’s shoulder.

The rack of lamb arriving at their table, served with potatoes, onions, and herbs, livened their mood. Tallen even laughed when he and Jaerd almost came to blows over the last rib.

Jaerd won and took a huge bite, but gave the bone to Tallen to gnaw on, which he did with abandon. The fresh berries and cream showed up last, and his stomach, thought to be full, found spare room. More wine followed and soon the brothers sat satiated enough to talk again.

Jaerd patted his stomach. “Would you be able to see part of the town with me tonight? My lieutenant has the night watch. There are several places where we could find some trouble – er, I mean fun.” He winked.

Tallen laughed. “I remember waking up to Dad yelling at you for your ‘fun’. That was a long time ago.” He raised his wine cup. “To Dad.”

“To Dad.” Jaerd spilled a little wine from his cup when he clacked it against Tallen’s. The brothers drained their drinks. “What do you think he would say about you becoming a wizard?”

Tallen shrugged. “He would have told me he expected as much. He always thought each of us had more potential than we imagined.”

A commotion began at the back of the hall, near the main entrance. Soldiers made a path through the crowd. Someone followed who Tallen could not see over the soldiers’ heads. Seated at the middle of the table, Duke Aginor and Earl Boris rose to their feet.

The soldiers in green parted, and Tallen realized why he could not tell whom they escorted. A party of dwarves, still dusty from the road, pooled in front of the duke’s dais.

“Your Grace, Duke Aginor of House Varlan.” The lead dwarf bowed so deep his gray and black beard brushed the stone flags. “You may remember that I am Darve Northtower, emissary and trade negotiator for his Majesty Berik II, King of the Rock and the Iron Hills.”

“Of course, Maester Northtower.” Aginor dipped his chin with respect. “We have received you many times as our friend. What brings you to Gavanor in such obvious haste?”

Gravity hung about the dwarf’s tone and visage. “Dragons, my lord.”

A hush covered the crowd. Only nervous, scattered laughs broke the sudden silence.

“Dragons?” Duke Aginor’s brow knitted itself together into a frown. Tallen saw Boris and Magus Britt both leaning forward, intense looks plastered on their faces.

Maester Northtower reached under his travelling cloak and pulled out a long object on a leather thong around his neck. At first, Tallen believed it a deer’s antler, almost as long as the dwarf’s arm and curved to a deadly point. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it could only be a tooth. A murmur rippled the crowd and covered his intake of breath. Two women near the front fainted into startled arms.

“This is the tooth of one brought down by my men and I.” Darve waved at his companions. He pointed at a dwarf girl with blond hair hiding near the rear of the group. “Tilli Broadoak, now known among our people as Dragonslayer, brought another down when it passed over her forest home. Tilli, please.”

The girl held up another tooth, nearly as long as the first. She had attached a handle to it, creating a rather vicious looking dagger.

The crowd grumbled.

Aginor’s voice contained a nervous undertone. “Maester Northtower, how many dragons assaulted your people?”

“Dragons are extinct!” shouted a voice from the red and black corner.

“Silence!” The duke held up an annoyed hand. “Have respect for our visitors.” He turned back to the dwarf. “How many?”

“Perhaps a hundred – dozens the size of this one.” Darve lifted the tooth again. “Many of our people have died. Parts of Wood Town and the forest still burned when we left our city.” The dwarf let the tooth fall against his chest. It hung down to his groin. “Please, Duke Aginor, send healers and grain to help our people. Since Aravath set foot upon these shores five centuries ago, our peoples have been fast allies. Now are the times that test those friendships.”

Duke Aginor nodded, his arms folded in thought. “I will send a battalion with healers and engineers at once. And forty wagons of grain. More once we can gather it.”

“Thank you, My Lord Duke,” the dwarf intoned, bowing again. “Your generosity and the compassion of your people…” He waved toward the crowd. “…shall be carved into the throne of the dwarven kings, as a part of the panel commissioned to remember this attack. It shall forever become part of our recorded history.”

“Please,” Duke Aginor said with a gracious voice and a gesture toward the table. “Take part in our banquet, if you wish. Or rooms may be provided if you prefer rest. We will talk further once you have taken repast.”

Darve looked about with a smile. “We would be honored to take place in this wonderful feast.” At his signal, the other dwarves joined a table not far from Tallen and Jaerd. They dug in to the food served once they sat. Even the young woman ate heartily.

Jaerd whispered into Tallen’s ear. “You’re full, right?”

Tallen belched in reply.

“Then let’s get out of here.” Jaerd nudged him with an elbow. “I have already asked your Magus’ permission. We have only a few hours, and I have many places to take you.”

Tallen left his seat with reluctance. “But Jaerd…dragons.” He pointed at the leader of the dwarves whose leaned close in conversation with Earl Boris and the duke. Magus Britt hung beside them, a black look on his face. Tallen paused. “Perhaps I can find out later. Let’s go.”

Upon a third conviction, a thief shall be hanged by the neck until they are dead. Their bodies shall be fed to swine.

— Gannonite legal code

S
ipping wine as sour as her mood, Maddi tried to shake the eerie chill left by the dream. She had been back in Dern, climbing through the empty townhouse again. This time, however, someone else had been there. She could not describe the person, nor could she be certain it even was a person. Upon awakening, the dream weighed upon her mind. It followed her to the Spendthrift Sailor, a quiet inn along the edge of the Gavanor docks, often frequented by middle class merchants and artisans. Few of the patrons carried many more years than she did.

I would bet that most of them inherited that gold they throw around.
She snorted in disgust.
Any one of them would make an easy mark. I just don’t know that I feel it tonight, or at all any more. Memories of that last job in Dern still haunt my dreams.

She thumbed the tiny golden chalice she kept in her pocket for luck. Rubbing the likeness of the Fifth Talisman offered her strength and calmed her roiling emotions. She hoped it might drive way the ghosts of her dream.

The barmaid wandered by the corner table from which Maddi watched the sparse crowd. “You want another cup, miss? Or something to fill your pipe?”

Shaking her head, Maddi downed the last of her wine as two men walked into the inn. One wore the gray embroidered green tunic of a Gavanoran officer, pressed as if he had just come from parade – the younger one attired in a simple robe and tunic of cotton. Their stride and smiles were so similar, Maddi guessed the two for brothers. The younger had more hazel than gray in his green eyes, and he stood a little bit taller, but otherwise they looked much the same.

What is it about him? Why does he draw my attention so? He is far younger than the men I usually find interesting.

Maddi stopped the barmaid before she left the table. “On second thought, I’ll have another spot of the Avarosan red.” She held up her cup for the refill, but her gaze never left the two men. Shifting so she might better hear the two, she sipped at her wine and listened.

“Hoy, fellows,” the elder greeted, “this is my brother Tallen, the finest chef in all the Western Realm.”

“Jaerd, old boy, grand to see you.” One of the young men that had flashed the most coin sauntered over to the officer. “Or should I call you Captain now, since you wore your Temple Day best.”

“Jaerd is just fine Nikko,” the soldier replied, raising two fingers to the barkeep. “I
am
off duty. My brother and I were so busy with the banquet in the citadel that I had no time to change out of my uniform.” He smiled at Nikko. “It was in his honor. He is on his way to the Isle so that he might be trained to become a powerful wizard.”

Maddi noticed the robed brother’s cheeks redden.
A wizard? Looks a little fresh to be a wizard. I imagine the other will claim to be a paladin next.

The brothers joined Nikko’s table once they had their drinks. Soon, good-natured ribbing and general boasting rang throughout the inn. The brothers drank their wine and slapped one another on the back. Maddi heard them laugh at comments that made no sense.
Must be inside jokes. They sound like they had a few before showing up here.

She sipped at her second cup of wine, watching the two men over its rim. After a few more rounds, the green-clad brother rose.

“Come on, Tallen.” His voice slurred a tad. “I have another couple of places I want to show you.”

“I assume you’ll be ending the night at Madame Gename’s,” Nikko suggested, raising his mug in farewell. “Make sure he gets a taste of the special there.”

The older brother laughed. The other smiled a sheepish grin. “Maybe. I’m not sure he would survive the special. Ginny might kill the lad.”

With another round of farewells, the two headed for the door.

Uncertain exactly why, Maddi followed, leaving a silver coin worth far more than her wine lying on the table. She slipped outside, lifting her hood and wrapping a dark cloak about her body.

She took a deep breath of the fresh night air. The wind blew from the north, carrying the smells of Gavanor and its rougher sections southward over the river. She watched the brothers saunter down the cobblestones, not far ahead. Both carried a flagon from the Spendthrift Sailor. They took long pulls from them while they wandered through the narrow, unlit streets.

Why am I out here? These two don’t have any real coin. Nor are they likely to lead me to any. And why does the one draw me so?
She shook off the uncomfortable feeling that she did not remain in control of herself, yet she continued to follow. The men stumbled some and shared a great deal of laughter. At one point, the older brother stepped to the side of the street. Maddi feared she had been made, and ducked farther into the shadows, but the man simply struck a dwarven match to light his pipe and continued onward with a slap to his brother’s back.

“Why am I stalking these men?” she whispered to herself resuming her hunt.

They passed through a small plaza. She hugged the shadows while her quarry marched across its center.

Something is not right. It’s too quiet here.
Her ears perked up. A sound drifted from the recesses of a narrow alley connected to the plaza. She leaned in against a building. The noise crept out of the next alley over, a muffled scrape of leather on leather – the shuffling of feet not as silent as they wished to be. She heard a grunt.

Pulling her dirk from where it hung at the back of her belt, Maddi took a deep, steadying breath. Another throwing knife jumped to her left hand from a sleeve.

I refuse to take chances since Dern.
She held her position deep in the shadows of a closed cooper’s shop, while the brothers wandered across the middle of the plaza. From their rambling stance, they appeared oblivious to the hidden rustle.

Half a dozen cloaked shapes darted from the alley Maddi watched. They had the men surrounded before the brothers became aware.

A rough voice snarled from a shadowed hood. “You two are coming with us.”

“Hold there, now.” The older brother flipped the flagon over in his hand to make a serviceable weapon. He took the stance of a seasoned fighter. The younger stood frozen. “We’ve little coin on us. You are welcome to it. But any thief in this city should know the tunic I wear. Are you certain you want the attention that comes with kidnapping the Wolfsgate Captain of Gavanor?” He backed closer to his brother, who at last shifted into the posture of someone who had been in a brawl or two. He also appeared experienced in using a wine flagon for more than drinking.

The shape nearest the younger man dashed in and swung a club. The robed brother dodged. The sound of his flagon breaking over the attacker’s neck echoed across the cobblestones. The figure shook its head but continued on its feet. Two more closed in, while the other three made feints at the elder. A frown of deep concern crossed his face, while the younger brother’s eyes widened in fear.

I can’t just let them be taken. He’s too cute to let some ruffians beat his face in.
Maddi charged forward in silence, throwing her smaller dagger hard. It struck one black cloaked figure in the neck, dropping it to the ground. The others looked about, trying to find the source of the sudden attack. She caught one in the face with a second hidden dagger. The hood slipped somewhat as he fell.

“Fiery Hells, you guys are ugly!”

And short. Are they women? Or skinny dwarves?
Grunting, Maddi cut back toward the edge of the plaza. Holding her dirk in a defensive stance, she pulled yet a third dagger from her bootleg. The brother in the officer’s tunic made his move. He crushed the flagon over one’s head and slammed a couple of punches to his face. The soldier shouldered his opponent, taking the smaller figure to the ground. Maddi saw the man’s knee go into his attacker’s groin before he rolled away toward one of her victims and pulled the throwing dagger from his face. He then rolled back, and planted the knife in the neck of his enemy. Hopping back to his feet with the knife still in his hands, the soldier looked for his next opponent, while his last writhed in agony at his feet.

The other three hooded figures rushed the younger brother, one smacking him over the head with a club. The man dropped to his knees, hands cupping his scalp.

That club is a blackjack, or his brains would be splattered across the street. They want these fellows alive.

One of the attackers grabbed the dazed brother and slapped a hood over his head. The other two rushed the soldier, steel gleaming in the dark as they drew daggers of their own.

“No you don’t,” Maddi muttered, hurling her last throwing knife. At this distance, it only found a spot in his thigh. A guttural scream of pain followed.

Definitely not women, then.
Maddi moved toward one of the bodies that sheathed her previous daggers. Pulling her weapon from the gore, she kept her eyes on the live targets.

The soldier again took advantage of the distraction. He plunged his knife up under the wounded attacker’s chin and ripped it back out. Blood splattered across the plaza, black in the moonlight.

Baring his teeth, the soldier snarled in sudden pain. His last opponent slipped under his guard and planted a knife in his shoulder. He twisted hard, and then returned the favor, his own strike finding the attacker’s eye socket. The enemy crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

“Tallen!” Blood darkened the shoulder of the man’s tunic. Maddi saw it spreading. He charged the last attacker, the one dragging his brother away.

The figure dropped his victim, who slumped, listless. He drew his knife and faced the wounded soldier. Casting her retrieved dagger, Maddi charged. It glanced off the figure’s arm and clattered across the cobblestones.

Maddi slowed, moving with more caution now that she held only her dirk. She noticed the older brother eye her as she closed. His focus returned to the remaining enemy. Maddi noticed the wince of pain when he moved.

“You can live if you put that down,” the soldier said with a wave of the borrowed knife. “Your friends can’t say that much.”

“For Galdreth!” the figure screamed. With a snarl, it charged.

The soldier dodged one wild swing and then another, waiting for advantage. The man moved with fluidity despite his injury. When he found an opening, he thrust clean and quick to the kidney from behind. He stabbed again when the figure went to its knees, this time to the neck. The spurt of blood arced outward.

Maddi spun to search for any other opponents. She only saw a pair of lanterns coming in the hands of the Gavanor watch.

“By the Waters!” The older brother breathed heavily. “It is about time one of you bastards showed up!”

The two men in plain green tunics gawked at the scene their lanterns revealed. They appeared even more startled to see one of their officers.

One blinked at the stars on the older brother’s tunic. “Captain?”

Ignoring his wound, the captain pointed to a guardsman. “Gather your entire squad and return here immediately.” The guard ran away, the thud of his boots echoing off the cobblestones. The captain turned to the other. “You begin pulling these bodies into a line right here.” He faced Maddi. “And you Miss – I don’t know how to thank you. We would be dead or worse had you not shown up. If you would remain here for a few minutes…”

Maddi gulped, looking for a way out.

The younger brother moaned as the captain pulled the bag from his head. He knelt down, a concerned furrow in his brow.

“I know some healing,” Maddi admitted and squatted beside them. She reached into her bag and pulled out a clean cloth, first making certain the bleeding on the young man’s scalp stopped, before taking out another to staunch the captain’s wounds. “This will need stitches or Talent.” She stuck a second bandage upon his shoulder. “I was walking home for the night and saw them jump you. I don’t like an unfair fight.”

The captain smiled. “I noticed you following us. I had thought you perchance a thief from the way you used the darkness.”

Maddi gave an offended huff. “Your eyes would have been better used on the rest of your surroundings, it seems.”

The captain nodded, Maddi catching a hint of color on the tips of his ears in the lamplight. “Fair enough. You are our savior, and here I am with poorly-veiled accusations.” He held the bandage on his shoulder while she tied it. “I am Captain Jaerd Westar of the Gavanor guard. And this…” He grunted, helping the other to his feet. “…is my brother Tallen.”

The young man’s eyes met hers. Even dazed as they were by the blow, they focused on her face with an intelligent gaze. “Thank you, Miss. You saved my life. That bugger had a hold on me, and I was too addled to think straight.” He brushed gingerly at his wound. “I don’t know what he hit me with, but it knocked me right out.”

“It was risky, but I could not let them have you.” Maddi pulled him down to get a better look at his head. It did not need a stitch, but he would have a goose egg for a few days. “My name is Maddi. As I told your brother, I do not like an uneven fight.”