The serving woman returned with the brandy in two mugs and I paid her. I drew the curtain closed and cut the alcove off from the common room. The woolen curtain effectively muffled the conversation beyond it and left the thick, yellow candle burning on our round table to provide the only illumination in the alcove.
I gently pushed the goblet of brandy toward the minstrel. "He would not have slain you."
She fixed me with an icy blue gaze. "I saw his face, I read his eyes. He was mad!"
I shook my head carefully and deliberately. "He was Daari. He was less disturbed about your song's conclusion about Morai's men than he was about being reminded a Talion still followed him. Drink some brandy. It will steady your nerves." I sipped some of the brandy in my earthenware goblet and nearly gagged. I choked the brandy down and hastily coughed, "On the other hand, this might seriously damage them!"
Though unintentional, my distress jolted her out of remembering the look in Vareck's eyes. She smiled for a moment, then raised her cup and sniffed the dark liquid in it. She wrinkled her nose. "You a Talion and they give you the cheap brandy? They cut this with Rian wine." She shook her head and pulled the curtain aside to signal a servant.
She spoke quickly to a silhouette, then turned back to me. "If you play enough in places like this you learn what sorts of good wine and liquor hide in dusty bottles on the bottom shelf." She hesitated, and I feared she'd sink again into her memories of the fight, but she made the conscious decision not to slide back there. "I must apologize. I am Selia, and I believe you saved my life. Thank you."
I nodded and smiled. "You are most welcome." I did not introduce myself to her by name, because Talions are most commonly known as Talion, by title, or by a military rank. Most people believe this is because names have magical power, and certainly that is part of the reason behind the policy. Even more so, though, is the desire to keep Talions apart and to make us a symbol of the services we perform. It did not matter which Talion killed Vareck, it only mattered that a Talion brought him to justice. Some Talions share their real names with no one outside Talianna. Others, like me, share it with good friends.
The servant, a fiery redheaded woman, brought us two goblets and a very old bottle. She carried away the mugs, and Selia wrestled the cork from the bottle's neck. She poured, and candlelight sparked within the sweet amber liquid flowing from the bottle. She finished pouring, recorked the bottle, and raised her cup. "To a new verse for my song."
I hesitated before I touched my goblet to hers. "And to Morai's capture."
With blue eyes half shut, she drank and studied me over the rim of her cup. Lowering the cup, she licked her lips. "Don't you like my song?"
I smiled and let that answer for me while I thought about a reply and tasted the brandy. The liquor's vapors filled my head. The drink tasted strong, very sweet, and burned its way down my throat. Warmth spread out from my middle and washed all memories of the previous swill away.
I set my goblet down on the table. "I liked your song as much as I admire your taste in brandy. I marvel at the accuracy of the song, and I certainly wish I'd not heard it first from a compatriot of mine in Talianna."
Her eyes narrowed. "A Talion?" Then it hit her. Her face opened with a smile and a mischievous light sparked in her eyes. "The Fealareen! He said he knew the Talion in the song. He copied down all the words."
I shook my head with resignation. "And probably suggested the verse about Eric?" Selia nodded in reply to my question and I sighed. "Yes, it was the Fealareen. Believe me, his version of the song was not nearly as well sung as yours." Though I fought it I felt myself blushing again.
Selia straightened up and narrowed her eyes. The candle flickered and washed her face with shadows and faltering yellow light. "Does the song anger you?"
"No, I'm not angered by it."
"Do you resent it, then? Do you not like it because it makes fun of a Talion?" She watched me the way she watched Vareck. She sat poised to pounce on any hint of anger or displeasure I felt with her song.
With my left hand I picked up my goblet and swirled the brandy. I broke eye contact with her and watched as the liquid rose higher and higher toward the rim of the cup. The vortex in the cup matched the one in my head. Her questions spun around, drawing me toward an answer I did not want to know, and that surprised me. She was headed toward territory I thought I knew quite well.
I looked back up at her and shrugged. "I'm a bit embarrassed that Morai and I have provided enough material for a song, but the words don't bother me. If there is one thing I dislike it is how your song suggests Morai and I play a game of some sort with each other. I've killed almost a dozen of Morai's men in the past, and none of them have been as easy to kill as two quatrains make it sound. I don't play games with lives."
Selia sat back and pressed her hands together palm to palm, as if in prayer. She raised them to her face and rested her chin on her thumbs as she stared at the candle. A rivulet of wax poured down the candle's side and puddled on the table. Its surface had just enough time to cool and cloud before she spoke.
"I don't know if I can believe you." She saw the frown gathering on my face and opened her hands toward me. "Your points are well taken, but you are a Talion. You are used to people trembling and hiding at the sight of you. How can you not resent a song that suggests that you are not all-powerful?"
"I don't resent a song that presents a Talion as fallible because I'm not omnipotent. I don't like terrifying people."
"Ha!" she laughed. "That is impossible."
I shook my head. "It's not impossible, and you already anticipated my answer in just the way you phrased your question. But you want proof more tangible than my denial." I raised my arms to emphasize my clothing. "Surely an omnipotent Talion who desired to scare everyone in here would not degrade himself by wearing such normal clothing."
"Your point." She half laughed with a light voice. "When you spoke up I thought for a moment you might actually have been Morai. Are you sure you're a Talion?"
I laughed and wearily nodded my head. "I grew up, to a certain extent, outside Talianna. I can remember, from before I became a Talion, the stories and tales that sent shivers down my spine." I sipped more brandy. "I remember standing in a market in Sinjaria long ago when I saw my first Talion. Now I know the scrawny fellow was probably a mercenary who became a Warrior, but then he terrified me. He came no closer than ten feet from me, and never even turned in my direction, but my heart pounded and my breath came fast, short and shallow. If he'd looked at me, or spoken to me, I'm sure I'd have fainted dead way. Or worse yet I'd have run off, absolutely convinced a neighbor had reported me and my brothers for stealing a melon two summers before."
Selia drank, let the brandy sit on her tongue for a moment, then swallowed. "I'm not convinced. You know the fear Talions hold for some people, but couldn't that knowledge make having the power all that more seductive? Couldn't you be more attracted to that power because you are no longer subject to it?" A smile crept onto her face and I knew she enjoyed toying with me.
I sat back and felt the cool plaster on the nape of my neck. "What you say is very true, but..." I leaned forward quickly, darted my right hand out, and grabbed her left hand. She started and twisted her wrist to escape, but I held on. Anger and fear flooded her face.
I released and she snatched her hand back to her breast. She rubbed one hand with the other. "Your palm, it's so cold."
I nodded and regretted acting on impulse. "I'm sorry. It's cold, like the knot of fear I used to feel in my stomach. I knew then, and I know now, that I'd do anything a Talion ordered me to do, but I'd resent it because fear prompted my action. I've felt the fear you felt a moment ago, and I relive it whenever I see the terror I cause in someone. I decided long ago I would rather have one person work with me because I'd done him a favor and he called me friend, then have a hundred people work with me out of fear. A friend won't run when a fear-slave will."
A little of the fire crept back into her eye
s. "Does that mean you never use fear?"
I smiled. "Given a choice I will not use it, but 'Only a fool throws away armor before a battle.' "
Selia excused herself, picked up her lute, and returned to the stage. She performed very well and by the end of her second appearance she owned the crowd. The audience loudly applauded and she took them away, for minutes at a time, from the knowledge that a Talion lurked just out of sight. I apologized for any dampening of spirits I might have caused, but Selia reported the audience's gifts of coins were quite generous so she had no real complaints.
Between her stage appearances we sat and talked. We talked about all the different places we'd visited and compared impressions of wonders we'd both seen. She recovered very well from the encounter with Vareck earlier that evening, but every once in a while I saw fear shoot through her eyes and detected a shiver running across her shoulders.
As the evening ended the tavernkeeper came over to the table. Smaller and less powerfully built than the bartender, he looked enough like the larger man, save the battle scars and maiming, to suggest they were kin. He offered me a private room—the only one he had available, he said as if pleased—but the pained expression on his face told me the real story. Inns like that were well used to packing a room with as many people as the bed and floor could hold, but no one wanted to sleep in the same room as a Talion, hence this miraculous vacancy. I accepted his offer, much to his obvious relief, and freely overpaid him well for the room. His son, the boy who had taken Wolf to the stables earlier, carried my saddlebags and gear up to the room.
Selia finished for the night and retired to her room. I left the common room shortly after she did, and quickly checked my room over for any surprises Grath might have prepared for me. Aside from fresh straw in the mattress and clean sheets on the bed there was nothing unusual about the room. I set a chair up by the door and another by the window so anyone trying to sneak into my room would trip over them, then unceremoniously dropped into bed.
I might not have fallen asleep the second my head hit the pillow, but I didn't stay awake much longer than that.
* * *
Dawn light preceded the tavernkeeper's timid knocking on the door by half an hour, so I answered the door fully awake and already dressed. The innkeeper hadn't struck me as the type to be up so early on his own account, and the woolen sleeping cap perched forgotten on his head immediately suggested something very wrong was happening. I smiled to reassure him, but he caught sight of the death's-head emblazoned on my jerkin's left breast and that scared him almost as much as the emergency that had brought him to me.
"My Lord Talion," he wheezed breathlessly at me, "the Lord Mayor's Chamberlain is below. He wishes to speak with you." He watched my face, and took no joy in the furrowing of my brows.
I waved a hand and dismissed his concern. "You have nothing to fear, I will deal with him." I had no idea what the Lord Mayor wanted me for, but the innkeeper had no place in the middle of it. I laid my left hand on his shoulder and squeezed to put him at ease. His face lost some of that pinched, cringing quality and he scurried off to tell the Chamberlain I would see him.
I'd dressed in my black leather jerkin, with a black linen shirt beneath it, black pants and my riding boots; so the addition of my weapons belt completed my uniform. I buckled it on with tsincaat at my left hip and ryqril at the small of my back. Carefully and quietly I strode from my room so I wouldn't awaken anyone else. I marched across the open balcony and without looking directly at the Chamberlain, I formed my first impression of him.
His escort, two city guardsmen, stood at attention on either side of the chair he'd seated himself in. Every buckle and badge on their uniforms sparkled. Neither of the young men, though handsome and well groomed, had the look of veteran fighters. Nothing more than an honor guard, the Chamberlain clearly used them to gild his image and inflate his own sense of importance.
An older man, the Chamberlain had aged very well. His light brown hair, with touches of gray at both temples, gave him a distinctive look of power and success. He did not slump or sprawl in the chair; instead he held his lean body upright and unbowed by the years. He wore one ring on each hand, and his hands were long-fingered and clean. Cloth of gold shined through the slashed sleeves of his deep blue velvet robe, and trimmed it at the throat.
He remained seated and did not react as I stalked down the stairs. I stopped ten feet from the Chamberlain's honor guard and gave them a smile of sympathy. They looked from me to the motionless Chamberlain as if to ask if he required their services during our talk, but the Chamberlain gave them no sign. I saw them look over at the bartender and the tavern's first few customers; then I nodded my head and freed them to get a drink.
Each took a half step away when the Chamberlain's right hand came up. They froze in their tracks. Then, continuing the languid motion with which he'd raised the hand, the Chamberlain flicked his wrist and sent both men off. The guards blushed and retreated from both of us.
I stared into the Chamberlain's brown eyes. "What can I do for you?"
"We have come in the name of the Lord Mayor of Pine Springs." He kept his pleasant voice even, yet his tone suggested he felt me an inferior. "We have Grath ra Memkar. We hold him preparatory to his execution at your hands."
My eyes narrowed and I sensed a trap closing around me. "You have him, you may execute him. You do not need me or even my permission. In fact," I smiled, "that means I can head off after Morai all the sooner."
The Chamberlain nodded understandingly. "We wish it were that simple, Talion, but we require your unique method of execution. Grath has certain information we dare not risk exposing to necromancers. We believe we have the right to request his death of you."
I shut my eyes and rubbed my right hand over my face. His request kept within the list of things a local ruler could ask of a Talion. Occasionally a leader would ask a Talion to pull the soul from a spy or similar individual with dangerous information, but most found other ways to make sure the necromancers never got to the body. I did not want to execute Grath in that manner, no matter what he knew, but I'd have to argue that out with the Lord Mayor, not his messenger.
I nodded. "When and where?"
"Noon today, in the square before the Lord Mayor's house." A vulpine grin snapped up any look of innocence the Chamberlain might have tried to muster.
My heart hurt. They wanted a public execution, and that I flatly refused to give them. "I'll be there early because I want to speak with the Mayor before Grath dies."
The Chamberlain inclined his head in a respectful nod, collected his guards, and withdrew. Once he left the room the bartender came over and offered me a small glass of Temuri shaisha. I tossed the glass of liquid fire off without thinking, then signaled him for something to quench the burning in my throat.
The bartender laughed in a booming bass voice. "Thought the shaisha would get your mind off that pompous ass. I was hoping your Grath would kill the Chamberlain out of spite before he was caught."
I gulped down some of the ale in the tankard the bartender handed me, coughed, and frowned at him. "What? You knew Grath was working here in Pine Springs?"
The bartender took a step back, then relaxed as the tone of my voice revealed surprised with no hostility. "Aye, I did and so did most of the rest of the town. He and the Daari came in a while back, three, four days now, and Grath read the political situation like I can read Dhesiri track. There's two factions in town; the one that's out of power is close to replacing the one in power and probably will the next time the full Council of Merchants meets. Grath offered his services to the Chamberlain to deter some of the opposition in return for enough money to buy passage for himself and Vareck safely through Memkar." The bartender shrugged. "Anyway that's what the Daari said one night when he'd drunk himself deep into his cups."
I nodded and sat there stunned. I had no doubt Grath could sort out local politics and offer the right people his services. Morai probably had recruited him as much for
his knowledge of Memkari politics as his skill as a poisoner. I also found it easy to believe a man like the Chamberlain would make use of Grath to solidify his own position, but the temerity of the Chamberlain to come and demand I kill Grath so none of this information would get out—that was nothing short of incredible.
I narrowed my eyes, sipped the ale, and let the world fade from my consciousness. The Lord Mayor wanted Grath's execution to be a public spectacle, and probably hoped it would reinforce the image of his power in the minds of his people. I nodded slowly as a plan crept from the crueler reaches of my mind. Indeed, the Lord Mayor and his people would learn something that day about power.
* * *
At my request Selia joined me for my audience with the Lord Mayor of Pine Springs. At first I thought he might be nothing more than the Chamberlain's puppet, but my first look at him shattered that myth. A bulbous man with thinning black hair, he wore both a moustache and gaudy clothing that gave him a foppish demeanor. Even so, the look of animal cunning in his dark eyes told me who really controlled Pine Springs.
The Lord Mayor sat in a chair upon a dais in his private chambers. His Chamberlain stood at his right hand, and a few other advisors stood at his left. Through the window to my right I saw the guardsmen force the crowd back away from a hastily erected scaffold.
I bowed my head to the Mayor. "Your Honor, I would like to present Selia ra Jania. I brought her here as my witness to what we discuss, though I have her pledge she will tell no one what was said unless my Master requires testimony of her."
The Mayor looked at her and dismissed her as inconsequential or easily murdered and watched me. "We are pleased you have agreed to execute the prisoner."