A table with two drinking horns, a two-thirds burned candle crowned by columns of untouched wax, and an uncomfortable silence separated the two lords that met in the Royal Whale that day. Lord Dorgan Thrane sat there, with his arms crossed and a scowl on, while Lord Gallendris wore his long hair back in a suave knot and waited for the old man’s word.
“Koribar came jogging onto my Palace grounds last night, along with his men,” Thrane said. “Your work, I presume.”
Farek tipped his head and examined the horn mug in front of him. He looked the other lord in the eye and told him the truth. “Jannia thought you and House Mavagar were working together. She arrested your men to be ascertain further proof.”
“Why would the Mazaar thing I was working with Paral?” the other lord demanded, incredulously.
“She never knew I was working with you,” Farek said.
Thrane smirked. “Right. I find that hard to believe. And what is the evidence for suspecting me to be working Lord Mavagar?”
Farek explained it as simply as he could, that the money had been stamped with the same sigils as money Mavagar had deposited a week or two later. When he told Jannia about the money Viotro had paid out, they had realized that Thrane might not have been involved in the way they thought.
“Those coins were the tribute I demanded from them,” Thrane said, though he’d have said that whether he was ally or adversary. “But this is weak substance for why my men were arrested, and for why they were arrested.”
“It’s the truth,” Farek said.
“House Mavagar is our adversary, so at least we still agree on this,” Thrane said. “But you’re either a fool or an enemy, and I’m not going to trust either.”
Farek sighed. “What do you suggest we do about Mavagar, then?”
Thrane leaned back in his chair, scratched his beard for a moment and then sat up straight. “Let me know what your plans are, so they don’t get in the way of mine,” Thrane sneered, and stood up. He lifted his drinking horn and chugged its remaining contents. When he finished, he returned it to the table, raised his eyebrows to Farek, and marched for the door.
With a curse beneath his breath, the prince of Soros finished his own drink. Thrane could be such a grump when he wanted, and had made it clear they should stay out of each others way. It was a long and rather frustrating walk back to Coin Hill. By the time he got there, Farek wanted another drink; that ale hadn’t hit the spot. He made his way to his favourite bar and tipped Artoc a good amount as he entered.
Norrey took a moment to chat with him at the bar, even though the afternoon busyness was beginning to pick up. He smiled at the dull expression on Farek’s face and poured him a small glass of pale pink spirits. The liquid resembled the red waters of Raider’s Lake, and Farek seemed to recall that the drink had the same name. He took a sip and smiled. “You always know how to hit the spot.”
Norrey grinned. “Of course. That’s why I do this for my job. And you do… whatever it is that you do.”
“Keep the peace,” Farek said.
“Whatever you say.”
Farek sighed and lifted the beverage to his lips once more. “Whatever you say. Any news about the glove?”
“No, sir,” Norrey said, tossing the rag he’d been cleaning the bar with over his shoulder and scratching his goatee.
“Any sign of Simisar in here, recently?”
Norrey chuckled. “I’m just a newsletter, aren’t I? She hasn’t been in as often—I think she’s been frequenting some of the waterfront bars now that she works down at the warehouse. Yes, that’s right… she holds your old job.”
“I hadn’t heard,” Farek said, grinning. As the city’s plots seemed to grow around them, Farek and Jannia handled the danger with clear awareness. Simi, however, was oblivious, and probably deserved some sort of visit. But before Farek finished his drink and hiked down to the waterfront again, he was distracted by a familiar woman.
“Lord Gallendris,” the black-haired beauty said, leaning up against the bar next to him. She laughed as Norrey scrambled away to give them some privacy.
“Silea, right?” Farek asked, winking at her.
“Mhm,” she said. “Going to buy a girl a drink?”
Farek nodded. “Maybe that brunette over there,” he said, smirking.
Silea feigned offence, and playfully hit Farek’s arm. “You’d get a taste of my steel if you stood me up like that. After all, you said ‘next time’, remember?”
“I remember,” Farek said. “But what do you mean, your steel?”
The curvy woman shrugged and pointed to another corner of the tavern. “I’ll beat you at throwing knives.”
Farek scoffed. “No, you won’t,” he said. He tapped the bar with a coin, and grabbed Silea’s hand before she walked off toward the knife target. “Norrey, pour this lady a drink.”
“Beer,” she said.
“Beer?” Farek asked, chuckling. She scowled at him, but eagerly accepted Norrey’s service. They took their drinks across the common room to a makeshift knife-throwing range. “Your lead,” Farek said, and took another sip of his drink as she bent over to pick the knives up from the corner of the walls. She didn’t feign modesty with her posture either, and only winked at him when she stood straight up and again and threw a near bullseye in one smooth move.
“Gods,” Farek blurted. She was a good throw. “You play knives often?”
“More often than being courted by lords,” she said, chuckling.
“Oh, I see.” Farek’s throw matched hers, and he chuckled as he stepped away from the red painted throwing line.
“Don’t worry,” she said, leaning closer to him and putting one hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never been with a prince before.” Then her arm reached past his shoulder for the beer she had set on the counter behind him. After a drink, she took position at the throwing line and hurled another knife adjacent to the target’s centre.
Farek’s second throw matched hers, yet again. They were still tied for score. “Listen, we can’t keep this up all day,” he said, smiling. He seriously did want to speak with Simi, before their plots got someone hurt. “I have some errands to run yet.”
Silea pouted, and looked down at the knife blade. Then, with a smooth move, she threw it off-hand again. This time, its point embedded in the hilt of her first throw. “I can keep this up all day,” she said, laughing at the coincidence of her throw.
Farek refused to come out of this at a disadvantage, especially since he didn’t intend to presently take her up on the offer she was so clearly interested in giving him. He stood by the line, holding the knife with his finger and thumb on either side of the blade’s tip. With an expert flick of his wrist, the blade flashed across the eight-foot track and pierced the red dot in the centre of the target.
“Damnit,” Silea groaned. “I wanted to make you a liar.”
“Not today, sadly,” Farek murmured. He finished his glass of spirits and slammed the glass down on the adjacent corner of the bar. Norrey gave him a raised eyebrow, but Farek ignored it and turned back to the breath-catching girl. “I’d like to buy you another drink sometime, but I really must attend some other matters. How about next week?”
“I’ll hold you to that. The 25th works for me.”
“Then it’s an occasion,” Farek replied.
Silea smirked, and set down her beer again. “If you’re going to leave me high and dry, you’d at least do as you did last time.” She extended the back of her hand again.
Trying to hold in a chuckle, Farek pecked her hand with his lips and walked wordlessly backwards until he was a few paces away. “25th, and here?” he asked.
“Or I’ll hunt you down!” Silea said, throwing a fourth knife blindly in the direction of the target. It hit the wall with a loud clack and she sheepishly hid from the judgemental glares of other bar-goers by tucking her face into that big beer mug.
Despite it being the third time that day that Farek had walked from Coin Hill to the harbour, he was in a remarkably better mood. When he got to the warehouse where he used to work, the blinding sun was his largest annoyance. If it was starting to set, he was skeptical Simi would even be in the warehouse still, but he found her at his old desk, reading through some shipping reports.
“You know,” Farek joked. “Everyday you sit there, you become a little more like Jannia.”
Simi tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. “Is that how that happens? You sat here long enough you turned into her penny counter?”
“Oh, with that comeback, now I really am proud.” She made a face and wobbled her head, and Farek laughed. “Mind if I sit? I’ll sit. Now, have you heard any interesting rumours lately?”
Simi shook her head and started telling him about a few parties she’d been to recently, and it quickly became apparent that she was still clueless about their plots. “I did hear one story,” she said, leaning forward. “What’s this about you and a magic leather glove?”
“If the only rumour you’ve heard about me is about a magical glove, then I’ve become either a rather upstanding citizen overnight, or now have a lucrative career as a hand model. Though I would hate to waste this handsome face.”
“With that moustache?” Simi asked, giggling. “You’re basically a twin of the last hand model I met.”
“You’re telling me I’m not one of a kind?” Farek gasped. “I’m hurt.”
“I used to think you were, but you’ve been coming to fewer parties these last few months… starting to wonder if you’re going sweet on a girl. Or a boy…” Simi guffawed loudly, drawing a glare from one of the labourers working in the warehouse.
“The only thing I’m sweet on for at the moment is making sure each and even penny is accounted for,” Farek said.
Simisar sighed and put her chin in her hands. “Just like Jannia…”
“Has she spoken with you at all?” Farek asked, more seriously.
Simi shrugged. “Of course. Told me how important my job is and that I shouldn’t drink on my shift. She also doubled the guard down here, as though I need more safety than you did.”
“She and I have reason to believe that someone might wish to see our family harmed,” Farek said, with a sigh. “And, while I have no intention of telling you what to do and stop you from enjoying your time, I want you to keep a sharp eye and ear out for what people are saying or if anyone strange approaches you. Just be careful.”
“Is this a joke?”
Farek shook his head. “For once, I’m not. So far Jannia and I have no idea what’s going on. We suspect two major Houses, Mavagar and Viotro, but have little to go on so far. So anything you learn about Mavagar would be appreciated—just don’t look for trouble.”
Simi’s eyebrows raised and she folded her arms. “Maybe I’ll get a little less drunk tomorrow night…”
“We’ll solve this sooner rather than later, I hope. I would hate to interrupt your extravagant lifestyle,” Farek said, chuckling. He stood up.
“Thank the gods. I’d hate to turn out like you.”
Farek bristled. “And I’ll thank the gods I didn’t turn out like Jannia.”
“Whatever you say, brother…” Simi giggled.
She made a jokingly pouting sound as Farek strode away, so he craned his head back and called over his shoulder, “I’m off to count pennies now!”