“Tagg, Banno, and Arn, with me,” Vaenuth said, as she set out from her camp at Rainrest into the city. They had arrived late the night before, after a slow journey through the jungles. Time had become her adversary, because her people needed rest after the arduous venture. She was going to be late, too late, for the rendezvous with the Slither tribe she had given a map too.
But she had reached Rainrest, and marched into town with her men. The precipitation that had been following them for the last two days began to let up as she wandered up the main street. The city housed some twenty thousand, in a handful of suburbs. She chose one of the wider streets up the slope toward the city’s estates.
And then she saw him. Hulean was standing at the corner with his arms crossed and the smallest smile on his face.
“Banno,” she said, and stepped toward him. Banno strode forward and reached out for the man.
The man stepped back, and his face cracked into a smile. “Vaenuth, you look like you’ve seen a ghost! Let’s get a drink and catch one another up?”
Vaenuth shook her head. “This way,” she said. Banno’s hand snapped out and grabbed Hulean by the arm. Vaenuth led the way into the nearest alleyway, just enough to be out of sight of the guards posted on the street corners. Tagg was laughing, the whole way, like the reappearance of their mysterious employee was a joke. It had irony, but not humorous merit. Vaenuth’s knife slid into her slick palm—there was too much water in the air, and too many questions to ask.
“Whoa,” Hulean said, raising a hand as her blade waved before him. “I can explain. I’m a magician, you see. I teleported myself to safety when the mob in Logren came for us… A warning would have been nice, though!”
“You can explain why you didn’t do something to help us?” Vaenuth asked, smoothly. A magician. She hadn’t seen it, but it didn’t change much. He had shirked the dangers of their journey easily enough, when they threatened his life. He had done nothing when the Slithers threatened their caravan. “Elli died, and you don’t even care?”
“Of course I care,” Hulean said. “But I’m not going to hold you solely responsible.”
“What do you want?” Vaenuth asked.
“To rejoin, of course.” Hulean shrugged against Banno’s iron clutches. He looked at Vaenuth, hopeful and innocent.
Tagg burst out with more chuckles. “Let’s slit his throat,” he said. “Another body in an alleyway, Kivrad won’t care, and the guards can’t pin us for it.”
Banno nodded. “He’s a worm, he let them all die.”
Now they agree? Vaenuth wondered. “Why?” she asked the strange wiry man. His ruffled brown hair was dark with sweat.
“I want to see the Slithers again. I joined your caravan to study them, and we did. I’ll keep helping out, and you don’t even need to pay me, now that you know the tru—”
Vaenuth finally smiled. She sheathed her blade. “You’re not going anywhere near the caravan unless you complete a job for me, using your magical gifts, if you would.”
“Anything,” Hulean said. A beggar, passing the opening of the alley, coughed at the sight of Arn, Tagg, Banno and Vaenuth surrounding the thin magician. Arn turned to face the man, and the panhandler shuffled out of sight.
“Teleport yourself into the desert, north of Nokire. Find the Slithers, and tell them we’ll be late. We will be there, but we’ll be late,” Vaenuth said. “You want to spend time with Slithers, here’s your chance.”
Banno let go of the man, and looked at Vaenuth. “You sure, Vae?”
“I’m sure,” she said. “He’ll either die, or he’ll help. I don’t care either way.”
Hulean nodded his head, bowed it with a bob, and promised, “I’ll do this then. I’ll need to purchase some supplies still, and some trading cards to communicate, right?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Tagg said. “Crafty serpent. Can we go?”
“Let’s go.” Vaenuth led the way, and Tagg was eager to follow her. He leaned close as they walked and tried to persuade her to change her mind. Banno knew it to be a lost cause; he said nothing as they climbed the hill toward Kivrad’s estate.
This time, the pompous lord did not make them wait. His guards took most of their weapons, but permitted Vaenuth to keep her knife, and Banno his sword. Arn joined the guards outside the palisade wall. The others were ushered through the swinging wooden gate and into the same incense reeking pavilion where the fat man met with them the first time. He was seated there already, on a heavily sloped cushioned sack, one that barely rivaled his size. On either side of him, poorly garbed servant girls fanned him with enormous feathers, like from the eastern long leg, a walking bird to the west of Rainrest.
“Welcome back to the city,” Kivrad said. “I hope I am the first to welcome you.” The smell of cinnamon and musk barely concealed the heavy set lord’s stench. He smiled at Vaenuth. “Again, such lovely jewelry you wear.”
She wore her usual adornment, a nasal ring, chained to her earring. It distracted from the tattoos around her neck. She would need to get a new one soon, perhaps once their rushed return visit to the Expanse was completed. Perhaps, she’d add some colour to the serpentine tail that wrapped around her midriff. “And you’re looking similarly… polished today, Master Kivrad.”
“I was informed as soon as your caravan set out from Nokire. It seems you have the white lead in your possession?” Kivrad asked. He pulled the tip of his moustache into a point. “Shall I have them pour us wine? I shall. Wine!”
As the servants scrambled to comply, Vaenuth leaned forward. “You did not tell me that the inhabitants of Logren would not part with it willingly.”
“I did not know, my dear!” the man sighed, and a huge weight seemed to ooze out of his mouth with the words. “I heard from the guards here in town that your caravan had dwindled in numbers, and I was so worried for your safety!”
“I’m certain you were,” Vaenuth said, sarcastically.
“I am known as a man with great concern for his… employees. I will raise your earnings by an additional ten percent to accommodate your losses, my friend,” Kivrad decided. “Alfo, see it is done! Bring out the chests at once.”
One of the guards marched briskly away, while a platter of wine glasses was presented under the canopy. Vaenuth decided to claim one, if only to respect his hospitality a little. “Shall we speak of the other matter?”
“What’s that?” Kivrad asked, as he swallowed his first sip of wine. He glanced at one of the servant girls who was fanning them and snapped, “Give my guest some breeze as well!”
The servant turned to Vaenuth, and wafted her direction with the feather. She had short brown hair and onyx skin. She wore a belt around her bust, and a knee length skirt at her waist. She smiled when Vaenuth looked at her and bowed her head so as not to lock eyes.
Vaenuth forced herself to look back at the master. “The favour,” she said, quietly. Everyone here could hear her words, but everyone here was deathly loyal to either herself or the lord. As far as she could know.
“Ah, yes, of course.” Kivrad set down his wine glass. As he lifted his hands to clap, Alfo approached with a chest of coin. “Set it down and stay. The rest, please leave us.” Even the fanning girls put down their feathers, against the edge of the pavilion and walked out into the open yard of the estate. Kivrad and his guard faced Vaenuth, Banno, and Tagg. “Name anything, within reason, and I shall endeavor to make it so. The cerussite from Logren—once verified and claimed by my men—is invaluable.”
Vaenuth glanced at Banno and allowed herself the smallest smile. Then, with a stoic expression, she looked back at Kivrad’s bare torso, then up at his smiling face. “I’d like a favour from someone in the Iron Palace, as you suggested. Someone who knows a lot about the criminal world surrounding Bellasa and the Great Isle.”
“I see,” Kivrad said. “May I ask?”
“No,” Vaenuth said. She lifted her wine glass but did not take a drink. “Can you introduce my business to such a person?”
Kivrad pursed his lips. “Very well,” he said. “Alfo, ink and paper please.”
To Vaenuth’s surprise, Kivrad wrote the letter himself and folded it. His guard dribbled wax onto it and presented it for Kivrad’s seal. The big man gave Vaenuth an eye for a moment, and then pressed his ring into it. “Do not open this, please,” he told her. “I make note of your services rendered and request the assistance of a suitable contact. Ovoe the Keeper.”
Vaenuth gently removed the letter from Kivrad’s fingers, and handed it to Banno.
Kivrad sternly added, “Ovoe will likely kill you if the seal is broken. He does not accept broken communication, Vaenuth.”
“Very well,” she said. Or, you wrote instructions to kill me within it… she thought. But she did not truly suspect that Kivrad had any reason to want her dead. She had done as he asked, better than most would.
“And if you are ever in Rainrest again, Vaenuth, you may be interested to see the use I have for the white lead,” he said. “But… perhaps not.” He smiled, a big, crooked smile, and gave her a wink. Then clapped again and all the servants filed back in. “Now, will you join me for dinner?”