Taking an exaggerated swig while only sipping a little was a feat that was becoming well-practiced for Talina. She sat at the bar next to Harek, the mercenary that had approved her posting on this mission, and tried to pretend she was just another mercenary in Tav Rock. “Is this the farthest you have been from home?” Harek asked, as he lowered his own cup.
Tali didn’t always “patrol”—their term for carousing bars and businesses looking for a scrap of useful information—with Harek, but they had been out enough times to start bridging such gaps. Tali forced herself to look at her comrade instead of peering at the latest newcomer in the establishment. She was certain every fresh face was one loyal to Tarro and the War-lady that ruled Tav Rock.
“Tali?” Harek asked, smiling.
“Think so. Hard to say with all the…” She trailed off and wiggled her fingers to indicate the magical spell that had brought them across the seas.
The seasoned mercenary chuckled. “All the tricks do confuse the mind. What’s the farthest you’ve been before this?”
“I mean…you know when I signed on and now you know where I’m from,” Tali said. She watched another newcomer enter and head for a vacant spot along the bar—would he know what had happened to the late Baron’s advisors? “I think that mess with the Councillor out near Raena was the farthest, so far.” Then Tali set her jaw, looking down into the still-half-full mug. “Ain’t going to be the farthest, though.”
Harek grinned. “Atta girl.”
Tali smiled. She liked earning their pride, as rarely as it happened. “How ‘bout you, then? You’re practically part of the ship at this point. You must’ve been basically everywhere by now.” Harek had previously told her he’d been in the profession for 20 years, but had served 14 in the Company.
“The ship hasn’t gone everywhere, but I have been aboard a long time…” Harek murmured. “I actually started out in Elpan. Northwest of Ith. As far north as you can go while still being on the continent of—”
A mug clattered to the floor behind them. “Gods, I knew it!” someone shouted. “You’re in on it!”
Tali and Harek spun, certain they were about to face violence. Instead, they saw two patrons rising from a shoved-aside table. One bellowed again in the same voice they had just heard, “He’s a bloody loyalist and a rebel. Got Baron’s blood in his veins!”
At that, a few other patrons rose. The man who had been accused of rebellion stammered denial as he backed toward the door.
Tali rose from her bar stool, but then hesitated. She glanced uncertainly at Harek. Then the accused man broke for the door and Harek rose, too. He whispered gruffly in Tali’s ear: “Let’s follow!”
By the time they made it out to the street, they were part of a small mob that was quickly forming in pursuit of the rebel. She’d been waiting to see how the bandits treated their citizens—certain she would find destruction and ruin behind enemy lines—but this was the first real trouble she had seen in Tav Rock, and it was more a feud between citizens than military aggression.
Despite this, she felt somehow that the rebel was on her side. When they charged around a corner and an opportunity presented itself, she feigned a stumble and knocked another pursuer to the side. She shouted a mock apology over her shoulder as she continued, and tried the same thing again not long after.
“No!” screeched the rebel as he was nearly caught by the clambering arms of those in the front of the chasing mob. He elbowed someone in the head and broke free once more. Tali began scanning the street ahead for market stalls or alleys—somewhere she could try to mislead the mob entirely.
Then a loud metal clang erupted from the small group of men and women surrounding a tavern up ahead. A man in form-fitting brigandine armour strode into the center of the road, flanked by two more who wore mismatched, but likewise impressive, armour. The clang had been the leader’s hilt on his large round-shield. “What’s the meaning of all this?” he demanded loudly.
The mob skidded to a halt while the pursued rebel fell to his knees before them. “P-Please! They are trying to kill me!” he sobbed.
“He’s with the old order!” cried one member of the mob.
Someone else added, “A baron lover!”
“A rebel!”
Biting her tongue, Tali said nothing in the poor man’s defence. She glanced at Harek, feeling panic shaking her spine, but he did the same—stayed silent.
The man with the broad scimitar and round-shield waved his blade forward and muttered a word to his comrades. The other guards strode forward and hauled the rebel to his feet. “We’ll take it from here,” their dangerous commander declared to the crowd. “Back to your business.”
Harek glanced at Tali and grimaced. They watched as the mob began to disperse and the guards dragged their prisoner away. Harek led the way back up the street, if only to blend in. After a few moments, he regrouped with Tali and they began to follow the guards.
In a low whisper, Tali asked, “Can we help him?”
“Seems risky,” Harek murmured. “I can’t take those three—no way. But let’s follow.”
They crossed a busy market district, but the guards got barely a glance for their prisoner. It quickly became evident that they were heading for the large Keep in the heart of Tav Rock—where Tarro’s subordinate War-lady Zanaria ruled. Tali had only heard the name Tarro clarified recently—he was the commander of the entire war effort, a sorcerer and warlord, and one of pure evil, no doubt.
Harek glanced at Tali as they continued their loose follow. “If there was more time, I’d say run and get some of the others, or see if Master Kelren wants us to intervene…” he said, “but I reckon those guards’ll be right in front of their comrades by the time anyone else gets here.”
“He’s done if we let’em take him in…isn’t he…”
With a sympathetic frown, Harek nodded. “Maybe we can get people inside—find out what he knows before they hang him.”
“We could cause a distraction? Light a fire?” Tali suggested. “They’d probably only leave one guy with him if something big enough happened.” She imagined all the awful things they might do to the poor man within the looming Keep.
Harek shook his head. “And risk blowing our security in Tav Rock? Better hope that loyalist is as connected as that mob made him out to be…. I think we had better report this to the Master and the Councillor, and see what they want to do.”
“The salty grave of Atmos,” Tali cursed. She let a few more sailor swears out beneath her breath, but she continued to follow Harek as he branched off from the guards’ path.
Tali and her comrades had been asked to leave the first inn they stayed at in Tav Rock—Master Kelren had reported it was not safe for them any longer—so now the troop had been divided between three inns, all within a block or two of each other. Master Kelren and Councillor Ghomal stayed with a pair of their more skilled warriors, while Tali, Rel, Vaniya, and a few others had put up down the road.
Councillor Ghomal was in the common room when they hurried in off the street. He lowered his drink and stood up. “What is it?” The mercenary assigned to protect him rose to his feet as well.
Harek quickly reported the incident and Ghomal asked for a more detailed description of the rebel to confirm that it had not been his son. The age seemed right, but little else. Then, for a few moments, Ghomal considered his options. His expression soon grew to mimic Tali’s and Harek’s—that of a sour grimace. It was a bad situation. Finally, Ghomal made his decision. “Gather a few of the others and keep a close watch around the Keep, in case any other rebels try anything to save or contact their comrade.”
Tali’s jaw dropped. “That’s it? We’re just going to leave him in there?”
Harek and the other mercenary gave her a withering look that seemed to say, “That’s enough!” but Ghomal was kind enough to respond. “We still have a few weeks before the Boundless comes back,” he pointed out. “This is a lead, but I’m not ready to leave the city tonight, and I don’t think stirring up trouble now will reunite me with my son.”
Tali wilted, wishing she could sit down or…be anywhere but here. “Sorry, sir,” she breathed, and, at Ghomal’s nod, quickly followed Harek out of the room.
As soon as they were back in the street, Tali walked a semicircle and stopped. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she didn’t want to go anywhere like this. She gasped, then said, “Is this really how this’ll go? We’ll leave that man in there as bait to find the loyalists?”
Harek squinted at her in the sunlight. “It’s one man,” he said dismissively. “We’re not in the business of saving people, Tali. We’re in the business of following orders.”
As though she had been struck, Tali recoiled. She had joined up to follow in her father’s footsteps, to become a hero of the sea. This was not the way.
“I’m sorry,” Harek said, raising a hand. “You’re new to this sort of thing. There are opportunities to save people, but we’re part of something bigger than ourselves. I—I’m not the best at this.” By the end of his words, the grizzled mercenary was well out of his comfort zone.
His efforts went a long way for Tali, though. She sighed, shoulders sagging. “I know. And you’re right, I guess. But….” She looked up at the rooftops, in the direction of the Keep. “All I can think is, what if it was one of us…I’m just one person. We all are…”
“I suppose,” Harek said. He gave an awkward shrug. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”
Tali quickly blinked, checking her eyes for tears—then she jabbed Harek in the arm, as hard as she could manage. He laughed, and nudged her with one shoulder, before leading the way down the street.
What followed was a fruitless afternoon of watching a big building. No rebels came to their comrade’s rescue. No hanging was witnessed, nor was any rescue attempted. Tali did her best to redeem Harek’s impression of her—she didn’t want him to think she was a weakling. She slid back into the acting easily enough, because she was always acting to some degree.
Later, as she sauntered back into the more familiar common room of her own inn, she let her mask fade ever so slightly. Rel was slumped at the bar, so Tali crossed quickly to him for what she could always rely on—his encouragement. Vaniya and Othis were drinking at a corner table, but otherwise the bar area was mostly deserted.
Tali climbed onto the bar stool next to Rel and gave him a pointed stare.
“What?” he asked, defensively. His hair was a mess and he looked grumpy. He was to serve on the nightshift’s watch the Keep for activity, so he had been pulled from “patrol” for midday sleeping.
“Rel. Look at me. Wake up,” Tali insisted, in a voice deadly-serious. Once Rel stirred enough to give Tali his undivided attention, she said, “I will never, ever leave you behind.”
“And I won’t leave you,” he assured her, brows furrowed. Then his eyes lit up. “This is about today. Listen, Tali, as sad as it is, these people are on the losing side. Try not to think about what you could do for that man, because the best thing you could’ve done for him would have been last year. Before this town went to shit.”
Tali deflated a little, slumping forward onto the counter. “Yeah—too late. I just can’t get his face out of my head, Rel. He was so damn scared.”
With a sly smile, Rel tapped the bar. “Something strong,” he told the barkeeper. Tali didn’t realize until the drink appeared that it was for her. Rel held up his hands defensively. “I’ve got to go,” he said.
“Thanks, Rel,” Tali said, raising the drink as though to give him a cheers. “Stay safe, yeah?”
“You, too.”
Once he had gone, Tali squinted her eyes to examine the spirits the barkeeper had poured for her. She started—realizing suddenly that Vaniya was just a few bar stools down from her now. Othis had departed for the night shift. Vaniya was slumped much as Tali was, head in hands. She tapped her mug against the countertop to demand a refill.
Vaniya had always gone out of her way to be mean to Tali, but her cruelty was her most unreasonable trait. She was usually level-headed and saw things in the harsh way that many mercenaries did. There was no reason for the capture of one rebel to have her so down.
“Your day must’a been the purest kind’a watery dung if you’re sitting and drinking with me, Van,” Tali said. Without thinking, she took a big swig of the strong drink and immediately started coughing, no matter how she suppressed it.
Vaniya smirked at her coughing, but the mirth evaporated quickly. “It doesn’t even matter,” she mumbled drunkenly. “Not one lick…of sense.”
Again, she hammered the countertop for a refill. The barkeeper gave Tali a smug look and disappeared into the back room.
Tali pursed her lips. Her defenses were always ready and waiting when she saw Vaniya, but clearly the warrior woman’s day had been as shit as Tali’s. Maybe some humanity won’t hurt, Tali thought. She shifted over one bar stool to get closer. “I’m going to regret this…but what’s got you sloshed?”
When Vaniya looked at Tali again, Tali wasn’t even sure if she knew to whom she was talking. Blankly, she mumbled, “I think we’re just here for…appearances.” She shrugged heavily. “Or, or something else.”
Tali scowled her face and opened her mouth to call Vaniya an idiot—it was, after all, just a ruse to insult Tali after Tali’s outburst at the Councillor, right?—but then Tali remembered the rebel being dragged off toward the Keep. She leaned forward. “You better not be messing with me, Vaniya, or I swear I’ll dump a mess bucket in your bunk.”
“I-I don’t know.” Vaniya slumped down again. “Saw something the other day. Didn’t make…one lick of sense.”
Tali gave Vaniya’s head a gentle shove. “I don’t particularly want to play a game of questions right now, Van. What, by the gods, are you talking about?”
“I was tailing…a lead. Turned out to be nothing. Headed back the other way,” Vaniya explained, through her stupor. “Past the Keep…. I swear it was him. Kelren. Master Kelren comes walking out of the front gate. Gods, right? What are we even doing here?”
“In disguise, right?” Tali asked. “Obviously?” She took a cautious sip of her drink and handled it better this time.
“Nah…” Vaniya faded out again. “Nah…just in his robes, like he owned the place.”
Tali’s eyebrows started to climb, and they didn’t stop. She glanced around: at the barmaid who was minding her own business, cleaning the table in the corner where Vaniya had sat before; and at the passed-out drunk near the window.
Vaniya saw the expression on Tali’s face and nodded. “That’s what Othis told me, too. It’s madness…a dream…saw what I wanted to see or something.” She faded for a breath, then continued: “But that evening…that evening I checked with the nearest one of our patrols and Kelren had asked them to scope out another part of town that day…”
The warrior woman shook her head and lifted her empty mug to her lips, having forgotten it was empty. Finding it dry, she shook her head and threw it across the bar. It loudly clattered across the floor, reminding Tali—with a flinch—of the mob.
The barmaid looked over at the noise, but the barkeeper did not return.
“Okay, first, you have to shut your word hole,” Tali said. She had heard that vibrant expression from another mercenary somewhere along the way. “How many people have you blabbed this to tonight?”
“Gods, right,” Vaniya murmured. Then she blinked, eyes widening. “Oh gods. Tali. Gods.” She tried to stand up from her bar stool, but almost lost her feet. “What am I doing?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Tali exclaimed. She gave a long sigh of suffering before helping Vaniya find her balance. She guided Vaniya up the stairs to their rooms on the second storey. Once Vaniya was deposited in Rel’s bed, Tali went to knock on Vaniya and Othis’ door. There was no reply, of course, because Othis was on duty at the Keep. She returned to her own room, finding Vaniya totally out cold.
What followed was an arduous night full of confusion, wildly wandering thoughts, and the habit of waking for every tap, creak, or rodent scurry. She didn’t even know what to do with all this. Master Kelren—in league with the War-lady? By morning, she was fighting through a truly horrific nightmare, only to awaken to a hung-over Vaniya making a mess of Rel’s things.