The way back to New Mallam was across as many pensive silences as it was sprawling woodlands. Moments of humour were as rare as sightings of cowering banditry, while the errant rays of sunlight fell dimly on Farek’s scowling temper. The travellers, a thousand miles from home, saw some of the Baron’s soldiers a few times, fleeing north-east along with them. The smoky scar on the horizon soon faded, but the memory of the fiery House of Kiaraka did not.
It was Matek who voiced the question first, as they strode down a rocky shale slope on the approach to New Mallam’s walls. “Will we return home now?” he asked.
“When there’s a baroness in bondage?” Diaren asked, chuckling. “We’re staying in New Mallam for a bit.”
Farek said nothing. Diaren had said it all. Baron Norlam’s wife was still captive, by whomever Elvara had hired to protect her hostage.
Their return to New Mallam was pre-empted by stories of insanity and plague. The streets were, near the gates, crowded by women and children. They were looking for fathers and husbands. Some had been sleeping here, on the side of the street. At the clinic further down the main street was a line of weary soldiers. Farek asked if the Baron had returned with them, but they simply said what they had been instructed to. “There will be a public statement once everything is back to normal.”
Sievus muttered, “Will things ever go back to normal, here?”
“A new normal,” Diaren replied.
The other clinics and healers were similarly crowded. Many of the soldiers believed that the madness and chaos at the House of Kiaraka—with comrade butchering comrade—were the result of an ailment or a disease. Farek had inhaled a whiff, but he was fine now.
“Where are we headed?” Diaren asked, as they passed the bunkhouse where they had last stayed.
“Drinking,” Farek muttered. They passed a few other taverns on the way toward the Copper Gate, and Farek strode onward despite his men’s objections. He didn’t just need a stiff drink. He needed the seediest of alehouses, where the most unknown information could become known.
He found what he sought in the Riled Stead, a place that seemed to claim its own darkness. Built against the tall stone wall, a mile south-west of the Copper Gate, the Stead had the smallest of spires, a little window that looked over the fortifications and out onto the sea—just a little glimpse beyond the sinking suburb and the squalor of the least fortunate souls. He ordered a local spirit, liquored birala root. It was strong, but tasted like shit.
The barkeep was a tall, old man, with weathered, warty skin and deep acne scarring. “You two sailors?” he asked, showing a silver tooth. A man running a tavern like this couldn’t afford a tooth like that.
Only Farek and Diaren had come to the bar, while the other two watched cautiously from a corner table. They had even entered separately to maintain the ruse. Farek smiled to the barman. “Not really. Came across the sea but I grew up in Aloor.”
“Don’t have the accent for it,” the man replied.
Farek smiled. “I grew up in the waterfront. Listened to sailors from a dozen ports. As a matter of fact, my father and his father ran a tavern there, the West Point?”
“Haven’t heard of it,” the man replied. “Looking for work, I take it?”
“Do you have any?” Farek replied.
The barkeeper shrugged. “Can’t pay much, but I threw my back out a few weeks ago. I could use a spry youngster like you.”
Farek offered a hand. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m Dorin. This is Stutter Tom. Offer him a bed too, and we’ll take just one wage.”
“Dorin… Tom. I’m Ordag,” the old fellow muttered. “Don’t drink too much tonight. I’ll talk to you more after we close up this evening. Who’s who and which blokes to watch out for.”
“Th-th-thank y-you,” Stutter Tom said. Diaren gave Farek the smallest wink as he embraced his role. Farek promptly ordered his friend a drink. It would take a while to scrounge up information about the disappearance of Baron Norlam’s wife, and Farek’s travel coffers were running low again.
Stealing from the lords of New Mallam in the aftermath of the Kiaraka catastrophe just didn’t seem wise.