Chapter An Uneasy Introduction
8
The city was doing so well that it became a nuisance as the street outside the Guildhouse was filled with petty merchants selling anything they could find for a copper.
The square on Old Street was filled with rabble from the outer wards, and Broderick Breeston, the fifth high chamberlain of the Guild was tired of it.
He devised the pin system, making the privilege to earn a living from the Triad citizens an honour that would come at a price. He created brass pins for the huntsmen, foragers, fishermen, and herders and made them purchase them or be jailed if caught making a living without possessing one.
Silver for the innkeepers, tavern, and pot shop owners along with the tradesmen and cart peddlers in the outer wards.
The most expensive he made of gold, for the merchants in the Horn and Old Street, and the rabble and their carts disappeared from the front of the Guildhouse as the coffers grew in abundance.
An uneasy introduction
She was nervous, like him, he noticed. Trying to begin a conversation was not her strong suit. “Are you carrying steel?” was all Edmund could think to ask her as he was fumbling for words.
“Of course, I am, under my cloak,” she answered him, as he stood frozen, intimidated as she glanced at him in his linens.
“You think I am here to kill you? You are an odd sort, Edmund.” She even had a small grin on her face. She was covered by a grey simple cloak, with a long object concealed with linen as he gaped at her.
“How did you know I was here?” Edmund mumbled childlike.
“I know it looks strange, but the master had me follow you after our departure,” she awkwardly explained, which made Edmund cautious.
“I stayed nearby out of sight, until today when you and Julius went for a walk. I kept my distance, sitting on the opposite side of the tavern as you all dined, then seeing you leaving alone, I followed you up here.”
“I don’t think this is proper.” Edmund stuttered to say, he was frightened as she kept looking at him.
“I know, but the master told me to find you,” Camille said, examining him while he couldn’t look away from her glance. He had never seen her without a scowl and her beauty had him enchanted.
“You look a bit gaunt, but I am relieved to see you so recovered.” She added, wearing a smile that looked genuine to him.
“The others will be back soon,” Edmund replies, still in shock, then he closed the door on her, standing bewildered, with his mind racing. He grabbed his new stabbing sword. “I decline your audience,” Edmund told her through the door.
“Edmund, I am not here in malice. I have things that the master ordered me to bring you. They are things he wishes you to have, an appreciation for your ordeal.” Her voice sounded kind.
“I will hand you my blade. Will that make you feel easier?”
He was wavering, but he wanted to just look at her one last time. “You swear an oath to hand me your weapon, then you can come in and leave.” Edmund breathed deeply.
“Say your words, then please don’t bother me further.”
“I swear,” she says in a meek tone.
He cracked open the door and slowly looked through at her. Camille already had her scabbard off, noticing she was wearing a thin, undyed, linen gown underneath that went to her calves, with a hemp rope belt tied in a commoner’s fashion, and he could smell an aroma of honeysuckle about her, her blonde-brown hair combed and lying over her shoulders innocently.
He took the dirk from her as she carried the object inside, which seemed light, passing by him as he was nervous, analyzing her motives while she walked to the table and set it down.
Her fair face looked around at the quarters, she looked so young, maybe a year or two older than him, he thought. When she looked back at him, he was doing his best at trying to look firm, but he couldn’t help but look at her feeling intimidated.
“What is wrapped in this cloth is a gift,’ the master says. He wanted you to know that he considers you a reputable lad, and is regretful for the way things played out.”
“You earned far more than the others, and he wanted you to understand how important it was that his travels remained discreet, appreciating your efforts in helping him carry out those goals.”
“Anything else?” Edmund said, looking as she opened her cloak, revealing the linen she was wearing.
“Do you mind if I stay for a minute?” she imposed. A flush bloomed on his face as she removed the cloak and satchel with a long leather strap she had worn on her shoulder, and set it on a nearby table along one of the beds.
She was thin, thinner than his lanky frame, and hard. Her arms looked corded from training in the practice yards. “Do you mind if I look at your eyes? The master insisted.”
He was shaking as she touched his face, looking into her pale green eyes, unable to come up with an objection. Her fingers went into his hair as she pulled his face close to hers, then kissed him.
It was a peck, stiff as if she rarely kissed before. She was nervous, maybe as much as he was, but he returned a kiss, taking his time as his eyes closed.
His action made her recoil. She recovered, then opened her lips more. His tongue touched hers and he pulled her lips to his. “Anything else?” he whispered afterward as they stood uneasy looking at one another as she took a step back.
She then loosened her belt, quickly lifting the dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor, and approaching him. Her breath became heavy as they were leaning on each other.
He wanted to ask her if she was following orders, but he could hear his brother’s voice in his head. What the hell are you waiting for you fool? This is the time to keep your mouth shut and take her.
“Are the others coming, or are they staying up on the top floors for a while?” she whispered in his ear, and then they embraced, kissing each other, falling into his brother’s bed and at that moment he wondered if he was dreaming the entire day as they made love.
Hours they spent until exhaustion took him and she was still in his arms when he awoke as they began again as she perched on top of him, the sconces had long burned out but the silhouette from the sunrise made her appear like a goddess and he was buried in deep lust.
The two were entrenched and her moans only made him more eager. The whole night they said nothing but acted on impulses.
He was about to say something passionate to her, only to be rudely interrupted when the door of his quarters swung open.
Edmund was so deep in the enchantment that he never heard the drunken merriment of his mates.
Camille had let her guard down as well, but cursed aloud, grabbing her cloak and her satchel like a cougar, and running swiftly from the shadows of the room past the foolish Osmond and down the hallway as Harwin chased her, feeling something amiss but in his stupor he nearly staggered into the inns’ wall.
“Who was that? She leaped from the window and was running ll. the street and out of sight before I could draw a breath,” his drunken brother muttered dumbfounded as Julius looked for a candle, then drew back the curtains to let in the morning dawn.
Edmund was getting dressed as Osmond chortled loudly. “I’ve never seen a man so battered after a romp, she must be more animal than woman. Edmund, you are even bleeding from behind your ears.”
“You okay, brother?” Julius asked in a slurred voice to him.
“I am fine,” he answered in frustration.
“Is this why you didn’t come with us?” Julius spouted out; he looked disheveled in his new clothes.
“Did she hurt you? Poison you in some way?” Harwin asked him, looking worried, checking him up and down while grabbing a rag. “I thought it was a bandit at first, but she was nude under that cloak. Who was that girl?”
“It was Camille,” Edmund answered as Julius cursed aloud while Osmond laughed even louder.
“Are you a fool or something? How could you let her in here when that man she serves is a devious snake?” Harwin scolded him.
“Like you could resist her. She gave me a gift, a courtesy from Peregrine for my discomfort.” Edmund pointed inside their quarters.
“What is the gift, Edmund?” Julius asked out of curiosity, frowning at his decision.
“I don’t know, she seduced me before I could open it,” Edmund said, embarrassed, as Osmond kept laughing, annoying the others who looked at him with sour stares.
“You done chastising his behaviour? The boy is out here, just shagged, while we are stinking from ale and strumpets. We should congratulate him — he became a proper man.”
“You’re not helping,” Harwin shouted.
“Let’s look at this gift and be done with it. I’m too tired to stand here all concerned,” Osmond demanded.
Edmund had all his thoughts on Camille, he was still in a haze of bliss while Harwin peered at the object. “I should examine it, in case it’s got poison inside,” he said.
“Yeah, because you are more qualified to drop dead than the rest of us,” Edmund replied arrogantly. “If she wanted to kill me, I would have been dead already.”
Harwin then cursed and unravelled the linen while leaning back, expecting something dreadful to jump out. He then glanced as it unfolded as Edmund was waiting for him to inform them that all is well. “It’s a bow? And a quiver of arrows,” Harwin said with a baffled look.
“What became of my old bow?” Edmund asked.
“It was stolen back in Faust.” his brother mentioned. “Your belongings weren’t protected like ours.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “They must have realized this while I was unconscious on the wagon,” Edmund says, trying to ponder on such a strange gesture while he gazed upon it.
It was of the Lonoke fashion like his old one, curved backward against the grain and wrapped tightly with leather banding. The string was made of sturdy hemp, pulling back easily as Edmund examined it.
“That may be worth as much as my Kirschner, brother. That is one fine gift. The quiver is calfskin. She even threw in some arrows made from chestnut. This is worth more than a few hundred falcons.” Harwin looked shocked.
“What was in that infernal chest?” he cursed as his temper flared. “Julius!” Harwin jolted him out of a drunken fog. “You knew them since they arrived; who were they?”
“Don’t know, I didn’t ask, they were barely there, only a little over a month. They paid so well for a simple errand from the apothecary, I went to Lucius Vanderley’s daily for him,” Julius said with a shrug.
“I doubt they ever left the ward, maybe never left their dwelling. He healed a bunch of men from the mist’s hold, helped a lot of ill women, some worthless men who caught hard fevers.”
“Wouldn’t the Guild punish him for not having a pin?” Harwin asked.
“He never took a coin. He did it for nothing.”
“Why is a man this wealthy living in a ward? What was his secret, and why hoard such riches in such a cumbersome box?”
“He never took a coin out of the chest. It was tucked in his robes,” Edmund corrected him.
“Whatever it is, he had to keep the Guild from knowing about it; that is why he bought the Captain from Faust,” Edmund added, thinking back to his inquiry.
“No reports were kept if I was betting coin. I heard that with my ears, the parchments were seized by the captain’s orders. Why did the Yellow Hand desire to kill them more than us, surely they haven’t forgotten about our encounter.”
“So that slipped your mind while you were having a folly?” Harwin asked facetiously.
“You think she would have told me? She had my mind on other things.” Edmund japed, trying to amuse his brother; it didn’t seem to work. Osmond then laughed for him.
“Look who’s the big bore, never thought I’d see the day,” Osmond said in a hoarse voice.
“You scold your brother for acting a fool. Who gives a hoot about it? Let’s drop it and go to bed. I’m bloody drunk and tired.” Osmond yawned aloud, then crawled onto his mattress.
“We need to book passage. Tomorrow we find the harbormaster,” Harwin insisted, now impatient at the moment.
His brother was still in a damper, mumbling aloud in the darkness while Edmund lay in his bed. He couldn’t quit thinking about Camille. He could feel his heart beating in thumps, laced with a sadness that he would never cross her way again.
They woke near midday, breaking their fast in the tavern as Julius was describing the dusky Lonoke woman he had an encounter with last night. He was trying to lighten the mood as Harwin was still miffed.
“We won’t be lingering long. We will inquire about a ship to Dietrich,” he spat out like venom.
“I still have Argyle’s document if that would help,” Edmund suggested, trying to be nice.
“Never show that to me again. I thought I told you to burn it!” his brother snapped back.
“What is eating you, Harwin?” Julius asked as the tavern girl brought two loaves of barley bread, some honey, and butter. “I will miss this. This honey is so cheap here.”
“You know what? I will ask that tavern keeper where the harbormaster is. Get this over with so he will relax,” Osmond said, pointing at Harwin. “I’ll be back. You leave me some of that honey, Julius.”
Edmund wanted to stop him and promptly stood. He knew where the harbormaster was. He had walked by it with Julius yesterday.
“Don’t bother, he is hung over and cranky. The place is near empty, so maybe we should have a horn, get these shakes off from the ale we drank last night,” Julius told him.
“Go ahead. I’ll have one with you,” he replied, anything to get his mind off Camille.
Edmund was looking around as the tavern girl brought them some boiled eggs, potatoes fried in bacon fat, and some oranges. Osmond had a horn in his hand, talking to a Nuhrish man sitting at the bar.
Harwin ate an orange, then bit into a heel of buttered bread. “It makes little sense,” he grumbles in a scoff.
“Let it go, for the gods’ sake brother!” Edmund had heard enough. “After we find passage, I’m going to town without you!”
“Fine! I’ll let it go. Go do what you want!” They were both standing up, glaring in anger at one another when Osmond returned.
“You wouldn’t believe what I found at the bar.” He had the Nuhrish man along with him. “He says we can save a lot of coin if we want to follow him.”
“Follow him where?” Harwin asked rudely. “Sorry mister, my friend can be an oaf.”
“Harwin, at least listen to him. What is the harm?” Julius pleaded as Osmond shook his head, not happy with Harwin’s slight.
Harwin kept looking at Edmund, his glare was cold as steel. He sat back down, knowing his brother would just look at him till dusk if he wouldn’t relent first.
“Listen, I see you are quarrelling. I will just go back until you have it settled.” the stranger said, not interested in the sour tone from their table.
The man was Edmund’s height, he noticed. They could have worn the same clothes. His hair was cut short, auburn and gold, and his eyes were a dull hazel that looked troubled.
“My apologies. My name is Leland Craig, and this is my brother, Argyle,” Edmund told him, not wanting to divulge. The jape made Osmond smile.
“Sit with us, friend!” Osmond slapped the man across the back. He was studying Harwin, looking at his mass, and acting stiff like he didn’t want to sit at all. “Don’t mind him, he is just homesick,” Osmond reassured him.
“Craig?” the man said. “There are a lot of Craigs in the lands of Twin Falls. Is that where you’re from?”
“We don’t know, we were refugees, very young,” Edmund replied, thinking of another lie. “Our father died of a fever. He roamed with the nomads in the Southlands.”
“Yes, I know of them. You grew up in Hayston or Dietrich?” the man inquired.
“Your name, sir?” Julius asked. “You met Osmond, and I am Julius. We’re born in the wards in Breeston.”
“You can call me Mero Farnese.” He glanced over at Edmund, looking him up and down. “You’re dressed well. What do you do? Merchants?”
“We—” he was about to agree that they were when Osmond talked right over him.
“We came up with a Nuhrish bloke, keeping the brigands from looking his way.” Harwin’s glare at him was in malice as Julius sipped his horn while sighing aloud.
“I guess you didn’t want that known.” Mero then let out a small snicker. “I don’t look down on mercenaries if you are worried about that. A lot are roaming around the mountains, along the small roads, and some are looking for work. Others are brigands for this Yellow Hand.”
“And you do?” Julius asked, trying not to offend.
“I’m a forager. I dig up-.”
“We don’t care for foragers,” Harwin interrupted. “Buy him a horn and send him on his way.”
“Harwin! I invited him here so we could listen to him.” Osmond was annoyed. “I want to know about this other way!”
“Fine!” Harwin said. “My apologies, please let us know, Master Farnese.”
“Mero is fine.” The man was becoming annoyed with him. “I forage in the Loreto lands. They have a road that will take you to the lands of Breeston, around the other side, to the small villages along the Bell River.”
“Wait, no man knows the way to Loreto. Those lands are walled by perilous thickets. A man tries to walk among them, he will become lost and dead in mere days.” Edmund flicked him off in a gesture. “Let’s go to the docks.”
“You are informed.” Mero looked at him. “Who taught you this?” “That is not known to strangers here, and your candour sounds like a noble if I ever heard one.”
The man caught Edmund off guard. “Let us not trouble you further, sir.”
“It’s not trouble. I don’t care if you are some lord trying to hide your name from robbers.” Mero smiled at him. “Leland is as good a name as any. Maybe I’m not Mero, but what does that matter to us?”
“You’re well-armed for a forager. You may not stand out under that cloak, but those blades tell me you’re beyond digging up roots,” Harwin added. “You’re more the warrior than a forager. I know the look.”
“You got me!” Mero laughed out, and Harwin’s expression made Osmond rub his beard in frustration.
“The guy was just having an ale. He isn’t following us like those last blokes,” he said while protesting.
“You must have an interesting tale. Almost as interesting is why you need to go to Breeston, but not go the obvious way on the Triad Road.” Mero shrugged. “I’m going back to my spot. You four need not be bothered by me. I was just trying to help you.”
“Harwin, please be reasoning,” Julius bickered about his rude tone, then turned to ask Mero a question. “If we did, by chance, get in some trouble, is this road safe that you speak about?”
The question had Harwin throwing up his hands in disagreement.
“It is south of here. I know the way through that terrible thicket the young lad mentioned.” Mero was given a horn by Osmond. “Thank you. I will guide you, my fee is five falcons each. It will be cheaper than a ship, you can inquire and find out.”
“We will be trespassing on foreign lands. Will they arrest us? They are not in the Triad.” Edmund asked, acting uninterested. He wanted to test if this man was hoaxing them.
“The Loreto clans are a farming culture; they carry no weapons so they are not a threat,” Mero explained. “They know me and I’m allowed to forage on their lands. They have plants that grow nowhere else, precious, which is why I need not be a warrior anymore,” he implied, smirking at Harwin then got up.
“Bless the gods, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He excused himself and returned to his seat, engaging with the tavern keeper when he sat on a barstool. The two were in a conversation as Julius glanced his way.
“Maybe we should consider his offer,” Julius suggested while pulling on his point as he glanced over at him.
“If he was devious, he wouldn’t have left,” Osmond added.
“The passage will be pricey, not to mention hiring a coach for the road home.” Edmund thought it was the wisest move; he’d heard mythic tales about the lands.
They were an old people, older than the Breeston and the Lonoke clans. Dating back to the time of the Grimm he read, the tales say they are cousins of them. The thought of travelling there fascinated him as Harwin sat with his arms crossed in anger.
“I say we vote,” Edmund demanded after finishing his last bite. “I vote we go.”
“No!” Harwin objected. “I rather risk arrest sneaking through Hayston. We are in no rush.”
“Well, he voted,” Osmond said. “I vote we ask the man to guide us.”
“C’mon, Julius! Don’t tell me you agree with these fools. We don’t know that man, he could be a lunatic. We just parted from a pair of those!” Harwin complained.
Julius looked at Edmund, seeking his approval as he nodded back at him. “I vote we hire that man,” he answered.