Daughter of Dragons

Chapter 7-3

“What help?” Pieter demanded. “All you did was buy the fellow a beer!”

“What are you two squabbling about?” Liselle asked, as she took a seat alongside of her nephew.

“We stopped off at the inn after we stabled our horses,” he replied, “and while we were there, we met a man—”

“I met him,” Jamus asserted. “He was sitting all alone at the end of the bar, so I bought him a beer and invited him to join us. He did. And as luck would have it, he happened to mention that his mare had just gone lame.”

“So?” Liselle asked.

“So I sold him my extra horse,” Pieter said. “And now this scoundrel wants a cut of my profits.

“Which reminds me.” He swivelled around to face Lathwi, who had curled up on the floor in front of the fire. “You owe me two dilucs. I paid for your horse’s stabling out of my own pocket.”

She shrugged, then retrieved her money-purse and tossed it at him. It landed on the table with a heavy clink. He fished two odd-shaped pieces of gold from its depths, then tossed it back to her. Instead of returning it to its place on her belt, she plunked it down on the hearthstones as if it were nothing more than a sack of candy. As an afterthought, she set the pouch which contained her stone alongside of it. Now that she had found a nest, she did not need to carry her fortune with her all the time.

“Well, my friend,” Jamus said to him then, “I’d love to continue our debate, but the night grows old already and my own household awaits. Come and see me tomorrow when you’re done dealing with merchants. I’ll stand you a round simply for enduring such dreary company.”

“I’ll do that,” Pieter replied. “I’ll stand you another as commission.”

Jamus chuckled, then stood up. Emboldened by Liselle’s not-quite-covert scrutiny, he caught her hand and kissed it.

“Lady,” he said, “please accept my many thanks for your splendid hospitality. With your permission, I would like to drop by every now and again to see how my dear friend Lathwi is faring.”

“You must ask your dear friend for such permission,” she replied, with a smile as peppery as her tone, “for it will be her time and not mine that you’ll be wasting.”

Ah, how he appreciated a quick-witted woman! Especially one who liked to spar with men. He had to see her again; his love of a challenge demanded it. Grinning now, he turned and winked at Lathwi.

“You won’t mind if I visit now and again, will you?”

Lathwi shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the prospect of seeing him again. Her lack of enthusiasm did not bother him, though; so long as she had not refused him outright, he was free to call. Pleased with the way things were turning out, he flashed the women another of his devastating smiles, then bade them farewell. Pieter saw him to the door.

“Where in the world did you find him?” Liselle asked, as soon as he returned to the table. “He doesn’t seems like the type who would enjoy tramping around in the wilds.”

“He ran into him in a village on our way to Compara,” he replied, his eyes lively with mischief. “The residents there were loathe to part with his company, but Lathwi here finally persuaded them to let him go.”

“Oh?” She slanted an eyebrow at the big woman, inviting her to elaborate, but the discussion did not interest Lathwi, and so she said nothing. Annoyed by the apparent conspiracy to keep her curious about the honey-haired man, she abruptly switched subjects.

“So how long were you planning to stay here, nephew?”

“A week,” he replied casually. “Perhaps a day more or less.”

“So long? Don’t you have work to do back there in that stretch of woods you call home now?”

“Nothing that won’t keep until I get back.”

“I see.”

Although that was all she said on the matter, Pieter got the distinct impression that she was not pleased by the news. Which was strange, because her most common complaint was that his visits to Compara were too short, and too infrequent. He rifled through his memory for things he might’ve said or done to offend her, but all he could come up with was Lathwi. Was his aunt angry at him for bringing her here? If so, then why had she accepted the big woman as an apprentice? Liselle was not the type to rearrange her whole life just to indulge him. Something else must be going on, he decided. Something that had nothing to do with either him or Lathwi. Perhaps he had picked an inconvenient time to visit. Perhaps…

A yawn usurped the thought; and in its aftermath, all he wanted to think about was his old feather bed. He smiled an apology at his aunt, then said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to turn in for the night. A week’s worth of sleeping on the ground has finally caught up with me.”

“That sounds good,” she replied. “I think I’ll do the same.” Then, turning to Lathwi, she said, “The attic isn’t fit for—”

“The attic?” Pieter echoed. “You’re sticking her in the attic?”

“I want be there,” Lathwi told him.

Liselle lobbed him a haughty look, then proceeded. “As I was saying, the attic isn’t fit for habitation yet, but if you want, you can sleep with—”

“I sleep here by fire,” Lathwi replied, and then curled up into a sinuous knot. “Morning come, you teach.”

Without further comment, she closed her eyes and started to snore. Pieter chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Liselle whispered.

“That’s the way she spent her first night in my cabin, too,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice.

“Oh?” She nabbed him by the arm, then ushered him down the hallway and into his room. There, she began to quiz him in earnest. “So who is she? And what is she to you? Even as a boy, you never picked up strays and brought them home.”

“She’s a stray all right,” he said, unlacing his leather over shirt as he spoke, “but I didn’t pick her up. She came crashing into my cabin one rainy night not too long ago; and when I say crashing, I mean crashing. The sight of her, all mud and black-mailed muscle, damned near scared the s**t out of me.”

“I can imagine,” she replied. “But what can you tell me that I can’t see with my own eyes?”

“She’s quick-witted,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “And quick-fingered as well. If she likes something, she’ll up and take it, so don’t expose her to things that you’d be sorry to lose. And take care not to touch any of her stuff, either—sharing is by invitation only. If you forget that, she’s apt to clout you in the head. And she packs a vicious punch.”

“We swore a blood-oath while you were gone,” she told him then. “I promised to teach her sorcery. She promised not to eat me. Why would she say something like that?”

“Lathwi was outcast as a child,” he explained, “so she grew up wild. That was just her way of saying she won’t hurt you. She said as much to me when we first met, too. And she has saved my life at least once since then.”

That was the most heartening news Liselle had heard all night. Perhaps things were going to work out after all, she thought. Perhaps a strong-armed thief with a sense of honour was precisely the sort of ally she needed in these troubling times.

She reached out and embraced her nephew, blessing him for bringing her hope. Then, still high on that hope, she went to bed.

G

Malcolm was feeding the nonborn scraps of power when one of his demons came loping into his innermost sanctuary.

“Master!” it croaked, as it skittered to a stop in front of his chair. “The Recluse has had visitors!”

He shooed the nonborn off to the shadows as if it were a horrific horse cat, then focussed the whole of his attention on the drudge.

“Tell me more,” he commanded.

“They arrived at her stronghold just before sunset—two males, one female.” It paused. Its leer swelled to ghastly proportions. “One of them has the talisman.”

“How do you know?”

“My kind can smell magic,” it replied. “Especially that which belongs to the Dark One.”

A delicious shiver coursed down his spine. So this was what it was like to be fortune’s favourite son! Never in his life had so many things fallen so neatly into place. And now that he was sure of the talisman whereabouts, he could begin to bring the last phase of his quest to a close.

“Which one of the visitors has the talisman?” he asked, unabashed by the hunger he heard in his voice.

“I cannot say for sure,” it admitted, “for I could not get close enough to make that distinction before they entered into the stronghold. But neither man had it on him when they came out again.”

That did not surprise him. Indeed, the only surprising news was about the talisman itself: he’d assumed that it had been in Compara all along. He bit his lower lip, a sacrifice of blood and pain for being so careless. If he had chosen to attack The Recluse first instead of that pompous magician, he might never have recovered the relic. As luck would have it, though, no harm had been done. At least not to him, he added smugly, recalling his latest victim.

“Tell me more about these visitors,” he told the demon, hoping to hear something that he could use to his advantage.

“I can say nothing about the female,” it said, “for she has not come back out of the house as of yet. The males did not seem extraordinary in any way, but the naj may be able to tell you more as it was able to get closer to them.”

“Ah, yes. The naj,” he purred, hiding a burst of rancour behind a feline half-smile. “And where might that ambitious little sleep-stealer be at this moment?”

“It is following one of those men through the city. It said you might have an interest in his whereabouts.”

He grunted his approval—the demon princeling might be the most dangerous of his slaves, but it was without a doubt the most astute as well. Anything and everything that passed beyond the sorceress’ door was of the utmost interest to him now.

“Return to your vigil,” he said then. “Tell the others that they are to follow anyone who emerges from The Recluse’s house, but only from a distance. Under no circumstances are they to interfere with the people whom they are shadowing.

“Is that clear?”

“Abundantly so, Master,” it rasped, and then went loping out of the chamber.

As soon as the drudge was gone, Malcolm loosed the smile that was singing in his heart. His quest was finally drawing to a close! He wanted to scamper down the streets of Compara and leer at its hale-limbed citizens. He wanted them to know that he, a miserable cripple, was to soon be their next king. He rubbed his chapped hands together, savouring the images of r**e and murder that were now rioting through his head, then abruptly slapped himself sober again. Only a fool celebrated victory before the fact!

Even so, his heart continued to sing.

G

In the morning, Liselle came shuffling into the kitchen to find Lathwi by the hearth. The big woman was still curled up in a compact knot, but Liselle could tell that she was not asleep. Her eyelids were open to slits, and the eyes beneath them were too still.

“Good day, Lathwi,” she said, as she began her morning routine. “I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable last night.”

“Sleep good,” Lathwi replied, instantly wide-eyed and eager. “You teach now.”

Such abruptness nettled Liselle, who was neither patient nor especially cheerful upon rising. “I’m not ready to teach you yet,” she replied testily, “and I won’t be until I’ve had my breakfast and a cup of tea. So if you want to get started anytime today, you’ll stay out of my way.”

But as the sorceress went about the business of making her porridge and tea, she began to feel guilty for rounding on Lathwi for what could rightly be viewed as a simple show of enthusiasm.

“Is Pieter still here?” she asked, hoping to start up a conversation and thereby assuage her conscience.

“No.”

“Oh? When did he leave?”

“Before you get out of bed.”

“I see. Did he say when he would be back?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well. I suppose it doesn’t matter. Do you want some of this porridge? I’ve made more than I can eat.”

“No.”

Liselle gave up and finished her breakfast in silence. Afterward, she dumped her dishes in a basin of soapy water. She was feeling better now, well enough to know that Lathwi had not meant to make her feel like a chatty old fool. The woman just wasn’t much of a talker. And that wasn’t such a bad thing—or at least it wouldn’t be once a body got used to it.