Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) (7 page)

“It means lawlessness is at an all-time high. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many pirates as I have the last few days. There’s not much work, either. People are holding on to what they’ve got until they see how things play out.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Chancy. “How long are you staying in the Point?”

“A while,” said Yulver. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any work.”

“Well, you can stay here as long as you like,” said Chancy. “What about you, Lorik? Are you still heading north soon?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Tomorrow. The strange thing is, that stranger in town, the one called Stone, he claims he wants to partner up.”

“You don’t say?” said Chancy.

“Who is he?” Yulver asked.

“A warrior by all accounts. He’s new to the Point. Wears twin knives, real low on his hips. He waylaid some pirates on the waterfront yesterday, and their entire crew came looking for him last night. He killed eight or nine men right out in the street and didn’t even get a scratch.”

“He killed eight men?” Yulver asked.

“Maybe nine,” Chancy said.

“He’s a deadly fighter, that’s certain,” said Lorik. “He claims to know about horses, too.”

“You think it’s a trick?” Chancy asked. “Maybe Marsdyn’s way of getting close to you before he sticks a knife in your ribs?”

“I thought of that, but it doesn’t make much sense. If this guy wanted to kill me, why wait? Like you said, he killed over half a dozen pirates without getting a scratch.”

“Well, you’re no pirate,” said Chancy proudly. “I doubt he wants a direct fight with you.”

“Or maybe they don’t want you dead,” said Yulver, thinking things through. “It might be that Marsdyn wants you alive.”

“I thought of that, but it could also be that Stone really wants to partner with me.”

“Why, though?” Chancy asked. “I mean, why come to the Marshlands just to partner with a teamster? No offense, Lorik, but the kid could have gotten work anywhere.”

“Maybe he saw something in Lorik that he liked,” said Yulver. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” Lorik said. “I’m meeting him in the morning to see what he really knows about horses.”

“Well, I don’t know this Stone character, but you can guarantee that outlaws will be as thick as thieves due to this war. If the man is as good a fighter as you say, having him on your side wouldn’t hurt.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” said Lorik. “Perhaps I could take him with me tomorrow just to see how things shake out. That way, I find out if he’s sincere and get a little extra protection in the process.”

“Makes sense to me,” Yulver said.

“Whatever you do,” Chancy added, “you be careful. This Stone is no one you want to tangle with, and neither is Marsdyn.”

* * *

Stone watched Vera for over an hour, nursing his mead. She was beautiful, he thought. He liked the way she moved, the way she laughed and flirted with the other patrons. When the other wenches came around his table he shooed them away. There was something about Vera that was authentic and enticing. Stone had known his share of women, mostly young wenches. They had all been pretty in their own way, but Vera had a lasting beauty that he thought was intoxicating.

Normally, the young fighter kept his guard up, but the outlaw life was behind him. He wanted to find a place to belong. He liked the teamster named Lorik. He had first noticed the man in the tavern when Marsdyn’s goons had attacked him. He had noticed everyone in the tavern, but Lorik stood out. He was bigger than most of the men in Hassell Point, but he carried his weight well. The axe that hung from his belt was a tool more than a weapon, but Stone had seen plenty of men heinously wounded by a small axe just like Grayson. Stone didn’t grieve the loss of the silver-haired outlaw; he’d found the man to be a bore. Grayson was full of himself and could talk of nothing except the revenge he was planning for the teamster. When they found Lorik dining in the inn where they had their own supper, Lorik took note of how long it took the outlaw to declare his intentions. After hours of boasting, Grayson was too afraid make good on his threats immediately.

Then, during his own fight in the street, Lorik had held his horse. It was obvious that the teamster didn’t trust him fully, but neither did he judge Stone too quickly. He had taken Stone’s horse and held the animal carefully, even when many of the other townsfolk had run from the scene of the fight in fear. Stone respected that Lorik didn’t let fear keep him from action or let it dictate what he would and wouldn’t do.

“So, are you going to nurse that drink all night, or order something else?” Vera said.

She had seemed intimidated by Stone earlier, but after talking with Lorik she treated him the same as everyone else.

“I’d like another mead, if it isn’t too much trouble,” he said.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said, then walked back to the bar and let the owner refill her pitcher from the large barrel of mead he had tapped. Stone watched her, the graceful way she moved, the way her dress seemed to cling to her curves without revealing too much. Most wenches in Stone’s experience didn’t really know how to seduce a man. They wore clothing that revealed all their secrets and were clumsy as they offered their wares. Vera was different: she acted less like a wench and more like a hostess. When she flirted, it was in a playful way with none of the desperation or lewdness most wenches employed.

She came back, and Stone placed a gold coin on the table.

“Are you planning to drink the place dry?” she asked when she saw the coin.

“No, but I was hoping I might spend some time with you.”

Vera smiled, and poured him more mead.

“I doubt you’re up to it,” she teased.

“I might surprise you,” he said.

“Why me? There are plenty of younger girls who would give you whatever you wanted for a gold crown.”

“I’m not interested in the other girls,” Stone said. “Of course, if that isn’t what you do, I’ll understand. Lorik said you were a wench, but if there’s something between the two of you, I won’t interfere.”

“No,” Vera said quickly. “We’re just old friends.” She studied the young fighter. He had a few scars around his eyes, but they only made him seem more mysterious. He was handsome and polite; it was not what she was expecting.

“All right,” she agreed. “I have a room in the back.”

“Let’s talk first,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Most men aren’t interested in talking,” Vera said.

“I’m not most men.”

“I can see that.”

“Take the coin. It’s yours no matter what. I just want the chance to get to know you better. I’m sure you know your business. We’ll get to that, but I’m not in a hurry. I’d rather enjoy myself without you feeling like I’m taking up too much of your time.”

“All right, I’m yours for the night, but I’m not much of a conversationalist,” she said. “Most people find me too straightforward for their taste.”

“I like straightforward,” Stone said.

“Really? We’ll see about that. Let’s go some place where we won’t have to shout to be heard.”

She held the pitcher of mead in one hand and extended the other to Stone. He took it and stood up, scanning the room one last time as he did. His paranoia was probably out of place, but he couldn’t be too careful. Vera held his attention like few others were able to do. If he didn’t keep his head, he might end up in a bad situation.

“Bring your mug,” she told him, then, still holding his hand, she led him back toward the rooms she kept.

As they walked past the rooms of the other wenches they heard the sounds common in any bordello. Normally, that might have excited Stone, but for the first time it seemed tawdry and unpleasant. He was surprised to realize that he didn’t like to think of Vera occupying such rooms.

She unlocked the door to her room and led him inside. It was bigger than he expected, with a sitting area and a large four-poster bed with curtains. Vera sat the pitcher on a small table and waved at a chair for Stone to sit in.

“What do you want with Lorik?” she asked, her tone severe.

Stone was shocked for a second, and then he smiled.

“You are direct,” he said.

“I warned you.”

“Okay, I can live with that. I want a job. I think I can help Lorik and learn his trade. It suits me. I don’t think staying in one place, doing the same thing day after day, would sit well with me. I get bored too easily. But I like horses, I like traveling, and I like a bit of excitement. So I asked him to partner with me.”

“But why Lorik? Why come to Hassell Point at all? This isn’t the best place for honest commerce.”

He took a long drink of mead before answering.

“Why don’t you have a drink?” he suggested.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not, but you don’t have to take everything so seriously. In fact, I’ll make you a deal. You loosen up and stop giving me the disapproving parent routine and I’ll answer any question you ask.”

“But will you answer truthfully?”

“Of course,” he said, and realized at once he had spoken a little too quickly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said.

“All right,” she agreed. She pulled a small wooden cup from the cabinet under the table where she had set the mead. She poured herself a drink and sat back in her chair. Then she studied Stone. He didn’t think she disapproved, but Vera was hard to read. It was one of the things he found fascinating about her.

“I’ve lowered my defenses,” she said. “Now, it’s your turn.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your weapons,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you need them tonight.”

He looked down at the knives strapped to his thighs and smiled. He was so used to wearing them that he had forgotten he had them on. Normally he wore them all the time, and kept them close to hand even when he was sleeping. He stood up and untied the leather thongs that secured the long sheaths to his thighs. Then he unbuckled the belt and took it off. He buckled the belt back together and hung it on the back of his chair.

“That better?” he asked.

“It’ll do for a start. Why are you called Stone? I know that’s not your real name.”

“How do you know?”

“Because no mother would name their sweet baby boy after a rock.”

“Maybe I wasn’t a sweet baby boy.”

“No,” Vera said. “That isn’t a possibility. You’re too handsome to not have charmed your own mother. So what’s with the name?”

“Just a nickname,” he said. “I picked it up when I was a kid. It stuck.”

“Why?”

“Why does anyone get a nickname?”

“Most people get nicknames they don’t like. I’m wondering why you do?”

“It fits,” he said. “I have a hard head. In a fight I’m hard to beat. I’m stubborn, not too bright, just take your pick. My mother called me Liam.”

“I like Liam much more than Stone,” she said.

“You can call me anything you want, Vera,” he said, emphasizing her name.

Her forehead furrowed as she looked at him.

“Why are angry with me?” he asked.

“Who said I was angry?”

“I did. You look angry.”

“I don’t understand you. I don’t know if you’re an outlaw or just misunderstood. I don’t know if I can trust you. I’ve heard the stories of how many men you killed last night.”

“It was self defense,” he said.

“You didn’t start the fight?”

“No, not with the group of pirates and not with the pirates on the waterfront. They attacked me.”

“But you killed at least seven men.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” he explained. “They were trying to kill me. I didn’t kill the pirates on the quay, just as I didn’t kill the outlaws who attacked me in your tavern yesterday.”

“I still don’t understand why you want to work with Lorik,” she said, her stern manner fading just a bit.

“I want to do something with my life,” he said. “I want to settle down, at least a little. I want roots.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I want a place of my own, somewhere I can call home. I want a wife, children, friends. I want to feel like I belong.”

His words were sincere and he could tell that his honesty finally broke through Vera’s wall of doubts about him.

“Now I have questions,” he said.

“What kind of questions?”

“I want to know who you are. I want to know what you’re doing here in this tavern when you probably have half of the town begging for your hand in marriage.”

“I don’t want to be married,” Vera said simply. “I’m here because I choose to be.”

“And...” Stone prompted.

“And that’s all I want to say about it.”

“Come on, I was honest with you.”

“You told me a good story,” she said. “I admit it was very convincing, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“That hurts,” he said. “Why do you think I’m so untrustworthy?”