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Authors: James Berardinelli

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BOOK: The Last Whisper of the Gods
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“Clearly, Your Majesty, there are many things we don’t know.”

“Toranim, you’re masterful at stating the obvious.” Azarak’s tired smile belied the cutting nature of the words. “As a boy, I never liked doing research. Spending time bent over dusty, moldy books seemed like such a waste when I could be training with a sword or riding a horse. But these questions may find their answers only in the scrolls and tomes of antiquity. It appears I must surrender my long-held prejudice against studying and re-introduce myself to the palace librarian and his vast collection of manuscripts.”

CHAPTER EIGHT: A SECOND CHAMPION

 

The first day of Summer was special for Sorial, not only because it meant he was one year shy of his Majority but because it was the first night since coming to The Wayfarer’s Comfort when he would have a room to call his own. No more sleeping in mice-infested straw. No more being awakened in the middle of the night by restless horses or Visnisk’s rutting. An arrangement with Warburm had provided him with an upgrade in quarters in return for agreeing to stay on an extra year.

The innkeeper had come to see him yesterday, the day before the fourteenth birthday, stepping out of the hothouse of a tavern into the hotter realm of a sweltering midday sun. The only reasonably cool places in Vantok were deep cellars and the river. There was nothing to be done about the heat, though. One could complain but in the end it had to be endured. Life went on.

Warburm had begun his visit by commending Sorial on his industriousness and diligence. It would be difficult, he had asserted, to find a replacement for such a hard worker. Then came the offer: If Sorial agreed to stay for one year past his Maturity, he would be given a room in the inn and a full weekly day off starting immediately. One year from now, he would begin earning a regular wage and could keep a higher percentage of all tips.

Sorial had requested time to consider the proposition, but after only one more night of lying in his smelly, uncomfortable loft bed, he went to Warburm with his assent. Although his plans to depart Vantok hadn’t changed, he was willing to trade an additional year in the city for less immediate discomfort. Besides, it was unlikely he would have left Warburm’s employ upon turning fifteen. He needed to build a savings so he could afford to travel. His small stash of coins wouldn’t get him halfway to Basingham. His only other worldly possessions were his clothing and dagger.

Annie came to see him during the slow hours between lunch and supper. The streets were lightly traveled during the day, with most people finding places to avoid direct exposure to the broiling sun when it was at its highest. The marketplace was closed from mid-morning until late afternoon. The weather had altered the way people led their lives. Many napped during the height of the day and worked late into the night.

“Whew!” Annie exclaimed, wrinkling her nose at the smell - a common reaction among Sorial’s few visitors. Like everyone else, she was slick with sweat. The way her blouse clung to her chest left little to the imagination, but she didn’t pay it any attention. Modesty had never been one of her defining characteristics and in this weather it was less important. “Your room’s ready. Can’t say it’s cool or clean, but it’s a lot better’n out here. That was a smart move, Sor. Working for Warburm ain’t too bad. Plus, there’s plenty of fringe benefits to sleeping inside.” She winked at him.

“Five of ’em?” asked Sorial with a smile. Warburm employed that many barmaids. His wife and daughter also worked in the inn, but they were off-limits.

“Start with one,” she advised. “Five might be too many for a young lad like you. You’ll need to build up your staying power.”

“Maybe you underestimate me.”

“Maybe, but you’re young and most lads your age don’t last more’n a minute. I can remember a few that were spent before I had my knickers off. I expect better from you.” With a smoky laugh, she headed back to the inn. “Find me when you’re done your shift,” she called out. “I’ll show you to your room.”

The stable was quiet for most of the day. After completing his chores and checking on the two animals quartered there, Sorial lay back on a bale of hay and daydreamed of his new bed. It would be hard and lumpy but luxury compared to what he was used to. The only time he could remember sleeping anywhere other than the loft was when he had been convalescing in the inn following his injury. That was nearly two years ago.

“Good afternoon, Sorial,” said a familiar voice. Smiling, the stableboy rose to his feet and approached Duke Carannan. Lately, the nobleman had been a frequent caller at The Wayfarer’s Comfort, although his purpose for visiting remained mysterious. Even Annie didn’t know why he was here so often. He and Warburm would meet in secret, frequently with others in attendance. Maybe now that he would be sleeping inside, Sorial might unearth some clues.

The smile died on his lips when he realized the duke wasn’t alone. Carannan’s daughter, wearing a gold-and-green dress to complement her hair, sat astride her pony. Her burly guardian was on foot.

After dismounting and handing his horse’s reins to Sorial, Carannan said, “I’m sure you remember my daughter, Alicia. She provides a lasting impression and I’ve brought her here a time or two before. I’ll leave her and her protector in your capable hands while I’m inside. Alicia can be headstrong; if she gives you any trouble, you have my permission to tie her up and gag her. Vagrum will be more than happy to help, I’m sure.” Alicia looked mortified at this suggestion but her father was smiling.

Only after Carannan departed did Sorial meet the girl’s eyes. Although it had been less than a year since their encounter on the day of the storm, Alicia was showing the rapid maturation evident in girls of her age. Her body was noticeably more curvy and her delicate features showed better definition. Those remarkable eyes, however, hadn’t changed. She might not be smiling, but they were laughing at him.

“You realize, of course,” she said. “He wasn’t serious. My father has a peculiar sense of humor.”

“Of course, M’lady. Your father and I’ve met many times. I ne’er took his suggestion as anything but a jest.”

“Many times? Here?” She was incredulous.

“He’s a frequent visitor to The Wayfarer’s Comfort.”

She turned to Vagrum, who was following the exchange with his characteristic impassivity. “Why would Father come here? What could this place possibly have to offer to him?”

At this question, Vagrum looked uncomfortable. He was aware that rich men such as the duke often arranged liaisons at inns of low repute, but how to phrase that in a way that wouldn’t offend his charge?

Sorial rescued him. “He meets with Warburm, the innkeeper, and others. I don’t know their purpose.”

“Men?” inquired Alicia. “Or women?” One eyebrow arched.

“Men.”

There was a break in conversation as Sorial led Carannan’s horse and Alicia’s pony into stalls and provided them with food and water. The girl, more relaxed than on her previous visits, hopped onto a bale of hay without the benefit of Sorial’s tunic as a blanket, and watched him as he went about his work.

He emerged to find her staring at him. She started and looked away.

“Hot work,” said Vagrum. “You still sleeping out here? Can’t imagine that’s easy.”

“Warburm just gave me a room in the inn. Tonight’ll be my first chance sleeping inside.”

“Won’t be any cooler, ’less it’s in a cellar. M’lord’s given me quarters underground with the wine and ale. Not as nice as the place I had upstairs, but more comfortable. Helps get me through these hot days. I’ll give up a posh room for a cool one any time.”

“How’s it for you, M’lady?” asked Sorial, turning to Alicia.

“Unlike everyone else, I adore the heat. Once you get used to sweating all the time, it’s fine. And there’s always the river.” She smirked. “You could use a bath.”

Vagrum gave her what appeared to be a disapproving glance, but didn’t say anything.

Sorial shrugged. The older he got, the less the dirt bothered him. It was an undeniable fact of life. “It rains once in a while, and that does me fine. If I went to the river - at least the parts I ain’t been forbidden from - I’d be more dirty after going in the water than before.”

“My father and mother and me go swimming every day. Lately, I’ve been using your method of dress - which is to say, wearing nothing - and it’s an interesting way to swim. You wonder about fish going into your privates - or I do, at least. I don’t think my mother approves at all, but she’s a prude. It doesn’t bother my father. He finds it amusing; he asked if I learnt it from a commoner. Don’t worry - I didn’t mention your name, stableboy.”

“The mice have missed you.” Sorial glanced toward Alicia’s booted left foot, where a little rodent was on its back feet trying to decide whether or not to leap for the toe. The girl jerked back her foot and jumped atop the bale of hay with a gasp, but she refrained from screaming. The startled mouse scampered for cover in a remote part of the stable.

“Milady has been practicing being less frightened by them little shits,” said Vagrum. “She’s made a wee bit of progress, though not as much as she thinks.”

Biting her lip and looking sheepish, Alicia returned to a sitting position. “It startled me,” she muttered.

The next half-hour was spent in silence as Sorial went about his chores. He found it disconcerting how Alicia’s eyes followed him, scrutinizing him in a way that made him self-conscious. It was odd how the powerful Vagrum unsettled him less than his diminutive charge. The man remained upright but his eyes were closed, causing Sorial to wonder if he was sleeping standing up. When he was done with the horses, he asked Vagrum.

“It’s an ole soldier’s trick. Everyone needs sleep and you learn to get it when and how you can. I don’t get much at night since I’m paid to stand the first shift outside her room. This seems a safe enough place to take a nap, an’ if anything was to happen, I’d be alert in an instant.”

“The stable is safe. Usually.”

Vagrum nodded. “I heard what happened to you a coupla years ago. You were lucky to have Master Warburm around.”

That comment piqued Alicia’s interest. “What happened to him?” Turning to Sorial, she repeated, “What happened to you, stableboy?”

He shrugged. “A bandit came in here to steal a horse. When I tried to stop him, he cut me open with a knife then almost shot me. Warburm killed him.” Sorial indicated the scar on his face. Since that day, he had never felt as at home in the stable as before.

“A bandit did that? What about the other scar. The one on the other side of your face.”

“Got that in a brawl.”

“Milady, would you like an accounting of my scars?” asked Vagrum, feigning jealousy.

“No thank you, Vagrum. I’m sure we don’t have that much time.”

Sorial took a bucket of water and doused himself with it. It was neither cool nor clean, but it washed off the thickest layer of dirt. Alicia continued to watch him, her expression unreadable. Any time he met her eyes, she looked away.

Shortly thereafter, Carannan returned, not looking at all happy. “Time to go,” he said to his daughter. Sorial brought out the steed and the pony.

“Father, I’ve had an idea,” said Alicia. “Why don’t we let the stableboy use our part of the river. He doesn’t go swimming because the public part is too muddy and crowded.”

“Alicia, we can’t invite every lad in the city to bathe in our river. Besides, don’t you think he might be a little intimidated?”

“Oh, I doubt that,” said Alicia with a smile.

Carannan considered for a moment, then turned to Sorial. “All right, young man. Since my daughter endorses the notion, I’ll inform the guards to let you pass. Don’t abuse the privilege. You may bring one friend with you, and one friend only, and I expect you to be respectful to the land and the river. And you won’t bathe while any member of my family is there. Is that clear?”

“Yes, M’lord.”

“Very well.”

As they were leaving, Alicia turned to him. “See if your master will let you come tonight. Even after upturning that bucket of filthy water over yourself, you need a bath.”

* * *

If Sorial’s first night in his new room wasn’t all he hoped it would be, it was nevertheless a vast improvement over sleeping in the stable. Warburm elected to quarter him in the same place where he had spent his convalescence two years ago - and it looked as if no one had been in the room since then. A thick coating of dust covered everything and the grime on the windows was so thick as to be almost impenetrable.

“Don’t worry,” said Annie as she surveyed it alongside Sorial. “I’ll clean it up for you tomorrow, and we can steal a better mattress from one of the other rooms. Good luck and good night.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek then, as if changing her mind, pressed her lips to his and let them linger like a promise of what might be.

“Lock your door behind me.” She said this with a smile. “You don’t want one of the other girls sneaking into bed with you tonight.”

“The mattress’ll keep ’em away.”

“You’d be surprised. If you were a little older, it wouldn’t be enough to keep
me
away.”

Sorial was up before the cock crowed and had replaced Visnisk by first light. He didn’t feel refreshed after a night’s sleep inside. It wasn’t noticeably cooler but at least it smelled of mold and mildew rather than rotting straw, mice, and horse droppings. Despite having washed thoroughly this morning, he felt sticky and dirty. Tomorrow was Restday; he decided he would accept the duke’s offer and bathe in the river. Maybe he would meet Alicia. It surprised him to discover he
hoped
that would be the case.

The next day, Sorial made the pilgrimage to the river but encountered no one. The same was true on subsequent Restdays throughout the long, hot Summer. Any disappointment he might have felt at not seeing Alicia was washed away by the bliss of floating in the water - the only real respite from the heat he could find (unless he snuck down into the inn’s cellar when Warburm wasn’t looking).

BOOK: The Last Whisper of the Gods
8.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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