Self-Made Scoundrel (27 page)

“Will you give it Old Gam?” Sindra asked. Her voice sounded strange. Derk blinked, startled by the question, wondering what she was implying.

“No. She was there when I got it, naturally, and knew why I was after it. It wouldn’t be right, y’know?”

“Ah. No. It wouldn’t be.” Sindra slammed the door with such force, the wind nearly knocked Derk off his feet and down the stairs. He caught himself on the banister, a jagged splinter of wood jamming into his skin. Derk cursed out loud before he brought the injured digit to his mouth. He glared at the door, his now disheveled hair and old coat making him look more like himself than how he appeared on her doorstep just a little while ago.

Maybe it was better off this way, he thought, sucking on his finger as he descended the stairs, his boots clomping loudly. She was beautiful and he loved her but if she couldn’t live with what he did, it was probably for the best they didn’t get married. The trouble he had gone through to get the necklace had been worth it, though. She had seen it and thought it beautiful. Maybe in a few seasons she would change her mind and decide she could live with him. He would hold onto it until then.

Derk screamed out loud, the jolt of being hit in the back of the head with a snowball unexpected and unwelcome. The snow was already melting against his skin, dripping down his neck despite his efforts to scoop it away. He tried not to glare at the elf who laughed obnoxiously in the doorway where he’d been hiding. Derk wiped his nose with the back of his hand, stuffing his hands back into his pocket as Jezlen ran out onto the street, sliding past him on a patch of ice.

“See you didn’t leave town, like you’d said.” Derk muttered at the Forester not bothering to grace him with his gaze. Jezlen came to the end of the icy path, misjudging where to put his feet and tumbling head over heels into a pile of snow. Derk just chuckled as he continued down the street, blowing out his cheeks so his breath came out as a plume of smoke. He had made it about five doors down when the elf rejoined him, still brushing snow and ice out of his scarf and clothing.

“Well, I had to find out the result of your attempt to become my uncle,” the Forester said, spitting to the side. Derk heard his teeth chattering and the Forester started rubbing his arms. Jezlen was almost able to pass for human as his scarf hid his pointed ears and long hair. “However, I am cold. Take me to your house, I want to get out of this horrible weather.”

Derk laughed out loud, tossing his head back. “Cold? I thought elves could stand winter and rough weather?”

“Well, it does not mean we like to be out in it! Where is your home? I need to warm up.”

Derk drew in his breath, the cold air warming in his lungs and he continued down the street at a quicker pace, hoping the elf would hurry along. He turned a corner and pointed at something with his chin, his eyes set in the direction they should go. “I ain’t got nothing at home to eat. Let’s get a quick bite, it’ll warm you up.”

The elf made a terrible sound in his throat as he trotted behind Derk, laughing out loud as Derk almost slipped on a piece of ice, grunting with dismay as the human kept right side up. Derk sniffed the air, following the welcome aroma of food permeating the cold. He indicated which stall he thought they should go to with another nod of his head.

“What should I ask for?” Jezlen asked, scanning the small board nailed to the side of the booth, a dozen hearty scents heavy in the air. “I cannot read human script.”

“Well, with meat pies, you can’t go wrong, really. And those are pictures, not words” Derk brought his hands out of his pockets, narrowing his eyes as he read over the list. “They’ve got a mutton pie and…a few pork ones. What’ll it be?”

“By the mists, not another one of your minced-meat-stuffed-in-something inventions!” Jezlen growled. The old man frying the meat pies looking up suspiciously as he flipped one over in the boiling oil. Jezlen continued to rub his arms and hopped in place as he tried to keep warm, staring down into the snow. “Why are you people always grinding meat and putting it into things? It is unnatural! No wonder your cities are so ugly and your people are uncivilized. You spend all your free time mincing meat!”

“Uncivilized? Jez, I’ve been to your ‘house’ and it’s a platform in a tree. It’s a tree house, and without walls. Don’t come telling me ‘bout lack of civilization and things of that nature.” Derk shook his head and looked to the fryer, holding out a few coins. “‘Scuse my friend here, he’s a Forester and a stupid one at that. Two rabbit pies, please.” The old man gave Jezlen a weird look, pulling one of the frying pies out of the oil and wrapping it in a square of fabric before handing it over and taking the coins. Derk handed it over to Jezlen, who at least seemed happy to have something warm in his hands. The second pie was handed over and the two walked away, eating them too quickly and burning their mouths on their way down the street.

“So, I take it she said no,” Jezlen said finally, grabbing a handful of snow and bringing it to his mouth. Derk just nodded. There wasn’t much more to it, though he would spare the details to save himself face. Jezlen spit something out, cringing as he looked into the handful of snow before tossing it away, spitting again. The elf cursed out loud, something Derk had heard often but never knowing exactly what he said, understanding the meaning of the word by the intonation alone.

“Look, I don’t know if you’ve gathered it yet, but I don’t got a home here. I used to stay with Sindra and that’s gone to pot. I spent my last blueies on those pasties we just tore our mouths on so….” Derk shrugged, kicking a clump of snow that looked like it needed it. He couldn’t lead Jezlen around town forever and it was better they start thinking of something now before his friend froze to death. He laughed as he thought of Jezlen, the elf from the Forest of Clouds, dying from exposure to cold. It just seemed silly. “Why didn’t you dress more warmly? Didn’t your mother teach you not to catch cold?”

“I was under the impression you had a room somewhere or a shack or a….” Jezlen shook his head, chuckling to himself as he shivered, yawning as he looked down the street, turning his eyes back to Derk. “I have no idea why I thought any of those things. I am going to freeze to death because I thought you were a normal person.”

Derk looked around the empty street, his eyes lingering on the entrance to an alley. He heard something coming from within and thought he recognized the voice of one of the approaching people. With a few fluid motions, he undid the buttons of his coat, placing it around the freezing elf’s shoulders, sniffling slightly as he did. “Look, there’s two blues and a fullie sewed into the lining of the coat. I was saving them for an emergency, but it looks like an emergency has shown itself to us. I’ve something to see to, get to the Ale’s Well. It’s down three blocks, take a right. You can’t miss it.” Jezlen eyed him suspiciously and for a moment Derk thought he was going to protest. But the warmth of the coat and the promise of four walls was all the persuasion Jezlen needed to take Derk’s belongings and money before the elf left, almost falling into another snowdrift on his way down the street.

Derk watched his friend leave, the cold seeming to trickle through his pores as he stood there. A few snowflakes began to fall. It was the part of the winter day when it started to grow dark though one felt it was too early to be doing so. His second best shirt was meant for autumn. Derk stamped his feet and wrapped his arms around himself, wondering if he should avoid the confrontation altogether or get it over with so he could spend the next few days in peace.

Before he could decide, a body came flying out of the alley, sliding on a piece of ice and tumbling over a barrel left out of doors. A few peals of laughter came from the alley, the owners of the voices walking slowly out onto the main road.

The person who had been evicted from the alley scrambled to his feet, breathing loudly as he tried to run away. Derk could see he was young, his dark eyes wild with pain and worry as he ran off, making little headway in the deep snow. The largest of the three men who came out of the alley pointed in the direction of the boy, urging his lackeys on with curses to follow after the lad, his left hand wound tight with a chain. The two cronies gave chase, having trouble in the snow themselves, their feet sliding out from under them so they laughed as they chased after their quarry. The man who had given the orders watched them go for a while, his breath forming a halo of steam around his dark head.

“So, you ready to give me that shirt of yours or not?” the man said, not bothering to turn around to address Derk. He still held the chain, the metal no doubt warm in his hand but freezing cold in the air. Derk rubbed his arms briskly, thoughts of the chain and the young fellow pricking him with anxiety. He couldn’t show fear in front of Sersena the Bastard. He felt fear but he told himself he was shivering from the cold and nothing more.

“How ‘bout my third best shirt and an extra set of boot buckles?” Derk didn’t blink as the large man turned around and approached, his shadow growing ominously as he walked toward him. Was the snow melting around him? Derk managed to put a smile on his face as the muscled brute drew closer, the swagger in his step causing the chain to dance in the frigid air. He stopped when he got within a pace of Derk, the chain finally shimmying to a halt, its shadow long and hard against the pale, white snow.

Sersena the Bastard was two handwidths taller than Derk. Steam rose off of his shaved head, his dark eyes sizing up the shivering man. A smile cracked his lips as the words finally seemed to register in his head and he laughed out loud, a booming laugh that would have been louder had the snow not been there to muffle it. He reached out a large gloved hand, setting it on Derk’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. It made the thief want to wince. The sound of a faint commotion made its way over the snow drifts, the distinct crack of wood against skull obvious to Derk and his eyes darted down the street, hoping the boy was okay. The Bastard finally stopped laughing, letting his hand fall from Derk’s shoulder, much to his relief.

“How ‘bout you come wif us on a job instead. I’d make more than what your shirt is worth. Call us even.”

Derk stopped rubbing his arms for a moment, a cold wind making snowflakes twirl in the space around him. He knew what job The Bastard was talking about. Hock had been bragging about it in the Unders a few days ago, his claims almost lost in the chaos of the gambling den. It had reached Derk’s ears and caught his interest and he listened to Hock’s plan. The potential gain was formidable but the plan had obvious holes and he had told Hock so, pointing out no less than two issues which hadn’t been considered in the plan.

Hock raised an eyebrow and offered to buy him a drink if he stuck around and discussed the plan over with him, unless of course Derk didn’t have anything else to add, his jealousy and input unloaded. This had pricked Derk’s pride and he sat down and listed five more things wrong with the plan, mentioning the states of the streets and the roads out of town, the relocation of several watches recently on account of a take which had backfired a few weeks ago, and the fact the lock on the shed would take know-how to undo, something The Bastard and his gang lacked. He had taken his ale thankfully, thirsty after his tirade and out of money after having gambled it away.

Derk shook his head, managing to laugh despite his nervousness. “No thanks, Sers. I’ve just had a bad shot to the head and it’ll take a few days to sort it all out. Wouldn’t want to put you out on account of having a muddy brain.” He hoped this would be a good enough excuse for Sersena to leave him alone, at least as far as the take was concerned. “Look, it’s cold out and I’m looking to be indoors soon as I can.”

“Right, so I’ll be taking my payment now.” The Bastard grinned, a menacing leer chilling Derk more than the weather. Derk sighed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt, pulling it over his head and handing it over to the thug. The Bastard took it and brought it to his face, sniffing the fabric and laughing out loud. “So, fappers do sweat, eh?”

Bare chested, Derk couldn’t stop shivering, the thin layer of fabric having done more than he had given it credit. He was about to turn and run off when The Bastard held up a hand, signaling for him to stay. The tall thug turned to look in the direction his two toadies had gone and he laughed out loud, the chain jingling merrily at his side.

Where three man had gone, one emerged. The young fellow, limping and breathing heavily, stumbled toward the pair, groaning quietly as he held the side of his head in his hands. The Bastard just laughed, snow falling off windowsills as his guffaw echoed through the streets. He motioned for the youth to approach him. “Don’t you worry, this is just what a ‘bootin’ in’ looks like,” speaking to Derk as he put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “He wanted in, and he had to fight for it. Now, it’s rightfully his. Though I was expecting at least one of those asses to come back. He must’ve given ‘em quite a whoopin’ eh?

“Now, since this man here didn’t give me what was mine when I asked for it, there’s interest to collect, ain’t there, Scald?” The Bastard addressed the youth, who nodded, his eyes seeming unable to focus as he stood there in the snow. “Now, you’re new here, Scald and I’ve a mind to teach you how to go about doing business so stupid bastards like this know better than to cross you.”

Stupid? If he wasn’t shivering so hard Derk was sure he would have turned red with rage, having someone like The Bastard call him such petty names. Even if he had his shirt, though, Sersena was cruel and feared. He ran the Unders of this town and was not to be crossed; Derk was lucky enough to only owe him a bit of money and would be mostly free of his influence once he left town, which would be sooner than he had originally anticipated. Even still, if anyone was stupid in the trio, it was Sersena. Derk spoke through chattering teeth, his eyes wide with annoyance. “Well, if-f you’re g-g-gonna t-t-take it, be qu-quick…I’ve a d-d-date with either a f-f-ire or a c-c-c-offin in the m-meanwhile.” His urging didn’t seem to affect the two as The Bastard looked him over from head to toe, his dark eyes resting on the shiny buckles on Derk’s boots.