Seven Swords, Michael E. Shea [readict TXT] 📗

my ward. She is an orphan of the Voth war.” Ca’daan hadn’t heard of any Voth war. Jon scooped a handful of lard from a dish and spread it over his ruined hair. “She too is from the north but we met east of here outside of Tog Aru. I couldn’t stomach seeing her serve in a pleasure den for sick nobility so we traveled here. I had hoped to gather supplies and move back north but it seems that didn’t work.

Ca’daan’s spirits lifted. “I know a place you can go. A town of peace far from those who hunt for you.”

Jon paused, gazing at Ca’daan with eyes like frozen water.

“And what do you want of me in return?”

Ca’daan shared his tale as the man, Jon, ran his knife over his scalp. the knife was very sharp and Ca’daan’s skin crawled at the sound of it shaving the man’s head. By the time he had finished, Ca’daan had finished his story.

Jon stared off for a while, appearing in deep thought. Ca’daan turned to the girl and smiled. She smiled back and giggled. Jon looked to her and then back to Ca’daan.

“We will help you.”

Relief flowed into Ca’daan once again. This was going to work. He had an ex-soldier who would help protect his village. he had a swordsman to train his people.

Adrin. He had forgotten about Adrin. Panic replaced his feeling of relief.

“I forgot about the other.”

“The other?”

“I met a swordsman yesterday who agreed to help us, another northerner.” Ca’daan saw Jon’s eyes narrow. “not a soldier or a bounty hunter. He’s a gambler and an adventurer.”

“A what?” Jon shook his head. “As you will. How many more did you desire?”

“I’m not sure,” said Ca’daan. “Four or five.”

“We may be able to help. We will meet you back here tonight. We have one or two more things we must do first.”

Jon removed his merchant’s tunic and pulled on a grimy brown tunic from his pack to replace it. Ca’daan looked at the scars on the man’s body, strange wounds he could not understand. Jon replaced Susan’s cloak with a white robe and a head scarf, also quite dirty. Jon smeared some dirt and clay on her nose and cheeks. She giggled and he smiled back. Ca’daan saw both love and sadness in Jon’s eyes.

They left, fading into the crowds of peasants and beggars. With the shaved head and the new clothes it became very hard to recognize them as the pair Ca’daan had met just a few moments before.

Ca’daan rushed to the gambling and brothel district. He saw no sign of Adrin. His heart sank. He ran to the gambling parlor and found Adrin rolling finger-sized four-sided bones three at a time. There was a scowl on his face.

“You’re late,” he said, keeping his eyes on the table in front of him.

“I apologize, sir,” said Ca’daan unsure of the proper pleasantry. “I have found another to aid us.”

“And this other was more important than I?” Said Adrin, rolling another set and apparently losing.

“No, sir! We were attacked,” the story would not match up if checked but it was close enough and Ca’daan was desperate. He didn’t want to lose Adrin.

“By whom?”

“Dark riders of the north. This man is an ex-soldier. They wanted to arrest him or kill him. I do not know which.”

“He defeated them?”

“Yes. Unarmed. They had pistols and he took them from the men and killed them.”

“Pistols?” This seemed to interest Adrin. Ca’daan continued.

“Yes, with dragons on them. He threw one of them and shot the other. He was so fast.”

“And he will help you now?”

“Yes. He and his ward. A young girl.”

“Where are they now?”

“About the town. We’re meeting tonight.”

“Well, then I will see you with him tonight.”

Ca’daan released a breath he didn’t realize he held. He bowed low and left.

Ca’daan found A’deem and told him of his discoveries. A’deem seemed vexed at having strangers, possibly dangerous strangers in his home but he trusted Ca’daan’s judgment, he said, and brought spiced meat from his shop when they returned.

Adrin arrived first, wearing his three-cornered hat, a light violet tunic, and his rapier. A’deem admired the fine sculpted work of the nude woman on the swords hilt.

“It is a Salamonca rapier,” said Adrin. “There are only a couple of dozen such swords in the world. It is worth more than passes through this town in a year.” A’deem’s eyes widened.

“And you wear it in plain sight?” said A’deem. “I might take it from you right now.” A’deem picked up a pair of linked dried sausages and swung them. Adrin laughed.

“Anyone who bests me with a blade is free to take it,” said Adrin, chewing on his tough meat.

“You have never lost?” asked A’deem.

“Sure. When I was twelve my brothers beat me bloody with sticks. My fencing master left me bruised and scarred my early teenage life. I was even bested by a woman.”

“You were?” asked Ca’daan.

“I found her in bed with my best friend. She stabbed me in the heart. And the groin.”

They laughed at this until someone cleared their throat. Jon stood at the tent flap. The girl stood behind him on his right side.

“Sir Jon. This is my friend A’deem.” A’deem bowed. “and this is Adrin, adventurer of the north.”

“Indeed,” said Jon. “Well met.”

“Well met, indeed.” said Adrin, rising. “What is wrong with your head?”

Jon smiled. “It will even out in a day or so. The sun will see to that.”

“You were once a soldier?” asked Adrin. Jon looked at Ca’daan and Ca’daan felt his skin grow clammy. He had said too much.

“Yes, long ago.”

“Indeed,” said Adrin. “Hello, princess.” Adrin knelt to one knee and smiled at Susan. She tilted her head, considering him, and smiled back.

“Have some food,” said A’deem. Jon and Susan sat with them.

Adrin grew quiet as they ate. He did not talk of his sword or his skills. Jon and Susan spoke little as well. Jon watched his food. Adrin stole glances at Jon. Susan seemed to watch them all.

A’deem talked. He was good at talking in silence. He talked of the recent attempt of a noble bandit lord to take the town. He talked of the blood crusaders who drew swords and cut down anyone who spoke of a god or goddess other than Suun, the single goddess of the north. He spoke of the rising rate for honest mercenaries and the falling prices of salted meat. He spoke and they all listened. Finally, when he had nothing further to say, Adrin spoke.

“Do you still have the pistols?”

Jon looked up at the adventurer.

“Yes. But they are fired and worthless. Some collector may like them but for weapons they serve little purpose now.”

“The bounty hunters had no shot or powder?” Ca’daan didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“We didn’t have time to check. The last thing we want is any more attention or any more bounty hunters.”

“So you run then?” said Adrin. Jon looked at him for a moment. Adrin’s gaze never left the bald man.

“Yes. We run.”

“I understand,” said Adrin. Ca’daan heard something in his tone that upset him. Apparently so did Jon.

“Do you.”

“You spoke of helping us find others,” said Ca’daan, hoping to change the subject.

“Yes. I think I know of a man who may be in need of a change. We will meet him tomorrow,” said Jon. “Time shortens. Susan and I must leave by tomorrow evening.”

“That is not enough time. It has taken me many days to find you two. We will not have enough.”

“Then you will go with what you have or you will go without us.”

Ca’daan’s heart sank. These two, even if they could not get any more, would help. They needed training and strategy. Jon, at least, might offer that. Yet two could not stop the demons Ca’daan had witnessed.

“Tomorrow, then,” said Adrin. He stood, put on his hat and tipped it at Susan. She smiled at him. Adrin left.

“He will be of little help,” said Jon. Ca’daan was stunned.

“What do you mean? He cut down a man twice his size.”

“A drunkard and a reckless bandit. Hardly a victory to build an entire reputation. He is fool-hearty, boastful, prideful, and a liar.”

“You are wrong, sir, I beg your pardon. He came to my village’s aid when no one else would. No one would help me but you and he.”

“I don’t expect you to listen but I wanted to tell you anyway. He may put on a fine show with that rapier of his but he cannot save your village.”

Ca’daan was speechless and Jon didn’t wait for a reply.

“We will be back tomorrow morn at sun up,” said Jon. He and Susan left.

“Strange company you keep now, brother,” said A’deem. “Let us hope the others are more accepting of one another.”

Jon and Susan came the next day at daybreak. Adrin came shortly afterwards. Jon wore a ruddy canvas tunic, light cotton trousers and wood sandals laced up to the knee. Susan wore a brown robe and a headscarf. both of them looked as they they had slept in the sewer trenches. Perhaps they had. Jon leaned on a crooked stick, limping on his left side.

“Are you all right? Are you injured?” said A’deem.

“Misdirection. Give them something to watch and remember and they will forget what you don’t want them to see,” said Jon. “Nearly all combat focuses on misdirection and redirection.”

Adrin snorted. Unlike Jon, he did little to hide his appearance. He wore a tunic of dark red, white trousers tucked into soft leather boots, leather gloves, and his rapier low on his left hip.

“You disagree?” asked Jon.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” said Adrin.

Ca’daan remembered Adrin’s battle with the large man, Barik, at the gambling den. What had that been if not for misdirection? If Jon hid his former occupation as a soldier by dressing as a beggar, what did Adrin hide by dressing as a swordsman?