Self-Made Scoundrel (14 page)

“Wait, you told the temple you had it arranged but you didn’t?” Sindra’s face looked as if it were blushing though Derk could hardly tell. Now he knew why she didn’t want him to come along. One of the reasons, at least. “Did Asa know this?”

Sindra shook her head slowly, staring into her cup. “I was fairly certain I could get him to agree. Jezlen, you have to understand, I know you aren’t a follower but it is important. And you do live in the Valley, where the Goddess reigns. Please?”

Jezlen dropped a fritter back onto the plate, making a sour face at them. “These are terrible. Their food is not good.”

“Aren’t you going to answer her?” Derk wanted to leap over the table and shake Jezlen but it probably wouldn’t do any good. Plus, there was the issue of the elf wearing armor and having a weapon. Jezlen looked to Derk and sighed.

“I will do it. He is right. I have nothing else better to do.” He looked to Sindra. “And even though you are family, you are still good to me.” Sindra smiled at Jezlen as he puffed on his pipe again, exhaling a cloud of fragrant smoke. The band started to play louder, ready to start. “But I want to be paid in goods, not money.”

“Of course,” Sindra said, looking into the pitcher and seemed disappointed when she found there was no more beer. She looked to Derk and smiled, the same serene happiness taking over her features again. “Would you like to have another pitcher before we head back?”

“I was thinking we could dance,” Derk offered, a little too hopefully for his taste. A few more notes eased over the patrons and Derk stood up, offering Sindra his hand.

“You should dance,” Jezlen said, smoking his pipe and leaning back in his chair. “You never allow yourself to have fun.” Sindra glared at Jezlen and looked at Derk, walking around her nephew and placing her hand in Derk’s. Before she could ask him Jezlen groaned, waving them off with his hand. “Yes, I will be here when you are done dancing. Go. Leave me alone.”

Derk led Sindra up to the dance floor and wrapped his arm around her waist, glad to hear the band was starting with a ballad. The song was She Left me, Cord in Hand. He much preferred the dances in taverns and barns and dance halls, two people touching one another and dancing as they liked to whatever was played. Sindra was almost as tall as he and felt light in his arms, allowing herself to be led around the dance floor.

“Your nephew’s.…” Derk let his voice trail off, not sure what to say and not sure why he brought it up.

“He’s a stupid fapper is what he is,” Sindra offered, breathing out. She laughed and she seemed to relax under his touch, her face brightening in the dimmed bar. Derk laughed along with her, glad to see her not looking sad. “You have to understand,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. “He had a rough start, Jezlen. He had to leave home when he was very young. Something happened to him, before he came to the Valley. ”

“But you still trust him to get us into the Freewild and back?” He felt her nod against his shoulder. The music lolled and played and Derk inhaled the scent of moonflower on her hair and her skin, felt her pressed against him. As they turned to the music he saw Jezlen, smoking his pipe and watching them, his eyes glinting in the lantern light. Derk made a rude face at him but Jezlen remained impassive and Derk shook his head. “If you trust him, I’m fine,” he decided to say. “Though I don’t know how he’ll get on with the others.”

“They’ll get on,” Sindra said, lifting her head and looking up at him. Their eyes met and Derk felt his face grow warmer, wondering what Sindra was thinking. In a way he had helped her get her nephew to come along, hadn’t he? It had to be worth something. Sindra pressed her lips together and Derk was surprised to see her look unsure of herself, almost ashamed. “Please, don’t tell the others about this. That I didn’t have the guide all set up.”

“As long as he shows up in two days at the temple, there’s no reason to tell them,” Derk said. “Even if he doesn’t show up, I wouldn’t tell them. Make him look bad. Or rather, worse.” The song ended and for a few breaths the dance floor bustled as people took their leave or came to dance as the band played the first few counts of the next song over and over. An uptempo song. Derk let his hold loosen on Sindra but didn’t let go. “One more?”

“I’m not usually one for the fast ones,” Sindra admitted, but she didn’t pull away. Derk let his hand slide down to the small of her back and laced his fingers in hers. The last of those who wished to dance came to the floor and the band began their lively tune, sending the dancers spinning about the dance floor. Derk led and Sindra followed, laughing at a misstep but finding their place. The dance picked up in tempo and by the end the pair of them were laughing and falling over each other, Derk pulling Sindra away from the rest of the dancers to spare them their crashing about.

“It was a valiant effort,” Derk laughed as they walked back to their table, pushing past those headed to dance. Sindra shook her head pushing her hair back to show her pointed ears.

“I told you I don’t normally do the fast ones,” she said, sliding into her seat. There was a full pitcher on the table but all the fritters were gone, Jezlen still smoking and eying the both of them.

“What, would you like to go for a dance?” Derk grinned at Jezlen, pouring himself a fresh drink. “You’ll have to wait, I’m a bit tired from your aunt stomping me.”

“I wasn’t so bad, was I?” Sindra wrinkled her nose at Derk.

“Not the worst, but you definitely need practice. I can help with that.” A gulp of beer was exactly what he needed and he drank from his cup, looking over the top at the priestess. If she didn’t like the idea, she didn’t show it on her face.

“As much as I love being in this bar surrounded by strangers, I think I am going to go,” Jezlen said, standing. Derk wasn’t sure how to feel about the Forester’s departure but Sindra looked disappointed.

“Are you sure, Jezlen? You can stay in the temple with us.” She sounded hopeful, sitting up straighter in her seat.

Jezlen just gave her a look, a look saying the idea was ridiculous and they both knew it. “I will be at your temple before first watch in two days. I give you my word.” He cast his gaze at Derk and didn’t smile. He looked slightly confused, Derk thought.

“I look forward to working with you,” Derk said before Jezlen could say anything. Now the elf definitely seemed confused and he shook his head, picking up his pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“If you say so,” Jezlen said. He nodded at Sindra and then turned and left, slipping past the other patrons of the bar. They both watched his departure, pulling up his hood before he exited the bar.

Early Rewards

Derk clapped his hands as the singer finished, a few other members of the audience applauding. He and Sindra had made their way up to the dance floor a few times though she pulled away at one point, the song too fast for her skill level. He heard her laugh and excuse herself. Without missing a beat Derk grabbed a skinny lad who looked like he wanted to dance, finding the young man flustered at first but they soon fell into the song, laughing and trying to figure out who was leading. Derk led and when the song was over Derk humored him and the laughing crowd with a bow, walking back over to where Sindra sat, her hands over her mouth as she laughed.

The music was winding down, the pitcher was empty and the greasy food cold. “I guess we should head back?” Sindra shrugged, looking at the grease covered plate. Another song started up, a slow song, and the singer sang in a clear, pretty voice. Derk finished his beer and nodded.

“Aye, I don’t want to miss Asa’s cooking,” he said, standing up and offering her his arm. Sindra took it and they walked out of the Last Stop, the music from inside following them down the street. As they walked, Derk danced a bit, making Sindra laugh. “I like when you laugh,” Derk confessed, smiling at her. The priestess smiled back, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“You’ve a talent for making people laugh, it seems,” she said. “And Asa says you’re good in a fight. And you can dance.”

“I’m also a great singer,” he insisted, making her laugh again. “I’ve got a good memory. I can recite ‘The Graces and Deeds of Our Holy Goddess’ from start to finish.”

“Which version?” Sindra asked, her interest obviously piqued.

“The one by Sister Hila of the Temple of the First Quarter,” Derk bragged. He had loved those stories since he was a child.

“Really?” Sindra seemed impressed. “Most people don’t like it, because of the language. It’s a bit archaic.”

“It’s more colorful, more fun,” Derk remembered sitting on the bench at the front of the temple, Sister Kiyla standing over the scroll. “‘In the days before our need, before the blood of the devout had been spilled by the belligerent, the Holy Goddess in Her wisdom and love stretched her Black Hands over the land in order to make a dwelling place for all those who sought peace.’ That’s much more beautiful than, what is it? ‘Before we came to this land, the Holy Goddess had already prepared it so those who sought peace would have a refuge.’” Derk shook his head. “I mean, it gets the facts across but where’s the mystery? The wonder?”

“I’m surprised you’ve had such an intimate experience with Sister Hila’s writings,” Sindra mused. “Your priestess must have been exemplary.”

Derk shrugged, trying to brush it off while trying to think of something which would satisfy the priestess’ curiosity without revealing anything about his past. “She was a good priestess. Like…a mother, I suppose.”

“Was your mother especially devout?” Sindra asked. She seemed genuinely interested and not prying but still, it made Derk a bit nervous. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said the last bit. But it was true. Sister Kiyla had been more of a mother figure than his step-mother. What about Cira? He thought about their last kiss and what it meant, what it didn’t mean. He wondered if she still thought about him. Even if she did, he was here now, with Sindra, and she had asked him a question.

“I don’t remember, to be honest,” he said. Derk kicked something in the street and sent it skittering across the dirt. “She died when I was young. I vaguely recall sitting in temple with her. My father wasn’t especially devout.” The Church was the only place Derk could find refuge from his father. His father had pulled away from the Church, hadn’t he? Darix Cartaskin had abandoned the spiritual side of life to make something permanent in the material world. At least he had tried to. Derk saw the lights of the temple ahead and cocked his head at Sindra, thinking a change in subject was in order. “And Jezlen? He’s not devout, is he?”

Sindra’s face clouded. “My nephew…you have to understand, the people of the Forest have different gods. Different beliefs, and Jezlen.…” She paused for a moment and this time he knew she was keeping something back. “Sometimes systems prey upon people.”

“Is that why you left the Forest? Why you follow the Goddess?” Derk knew all too well what Sindra said was true, though he wondered what had happened to Jezlen. Sindra shook her head.

“I was called by the Goddess when I was younger. He was very little and so I hardly knew him when I left for the Valley to follow my path. Later on he left the Forest and Her hand guided him to me.” Sindra tried to smile but her eyes looked full of worry. They reached the temple and instead of walking in she stopped, the pair facing each other on the dark street. “I am the only family he has here. I don’t know if it means anything to him.”

“Sometimes what we need isn’t family, but a friend.” Derk watched as Sindra looked at him, regarding him with her dark grey eyes. Eventually the corners of her mouth turned upward in a sad smile. Derk opened the door for her before following her into the temple kitchen, not surprised to find a plate of food waiting on the table. His stomach grumbled, suddenly feeling very hungry. He hopped up onto the table and Sindra pulled up a stool, both of them digging into the food Asa had prepared.

“I’m glad you helped Asa in the bar fight,” Sindra said, licking her fingers. Derk reached behind himself and grabbed a spoon, digging into the barley and onion stew. He chewed and swallowed before he answered her.

“My jaw wasn’t all too happy I did” he said finally, taking another spoonful. He smiled at her, looking up as he heard quiet footsteps approaching them. Devra walked into the kitchen, a pitcher in her gloved hands.

“How’d it go?” she asked. She set the pitcher on the table and grabbed a handful of berries. “Where’s the guide?”

“He off preparing for the trip,” Derk said before Sindra could. “You missed some good music. The singer could have been better.”

“Think you could have done better?” Sindra quipped. Derk rolled his eyes and took another bite, trying not to smile with his mouth full of food. “You might not have known this, Dev, but our friend here is quite the singer.”

“And dancer,” Derk said, still chewing. “Also, I can do card tricks.”

“Do you sing?” Devra asked, her green eyes bright with interest. “Would you sing for us?”

“I sang when we left Portsmouth,” he offered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. But Sindra was laughing and Devra appeared to be waiting. “I don’t know what to sing.”

“Sing anything,” Sindra insisted, her eyes sparkling. Both she and Devra focused on him. The best way to get someone to stop asking for something was to give it to them, Derk knew, so he cleared his throat and took a sip of water, the lyrics of the song coming easily to him.

I had a love fair as the night,

She was gone in the morn

Joined were we in the moonlight

But now my heart is torn

I loved the girl from far away,

I pined for her for years

All my hopes crushed in a day

And smiles have turned to tears

For now I know she sees in me

Naught but a bit of fun

In dreams, her I no longer see

And boyish love is done

I keep my love inside of me

For I am not the one.

Derk looked around, the kitchen seeming suddenly too quiet. Sindra and Devra were still staring at him and he thought they would laugh. But Devra and Sindra just looked at each other, not saying anything.