A Sellsword's Valor Page 6

  “Two months.”

  “And if you die?”

  Aaron gave the man a humorless grin. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to go on without me.”

  The old man gave him an almost hungry smile. “Yes,” he said, nodding slowly to himself, “that could work.”

  “Words,” Hale said, yawning heavily. “Gods, but I miss the days when a problem could be solved by beating the shit out of it. All this thinking’s gonna have me in the grave before my time. Speakin’ of that,” he continued, turning to Aaron, a mischievous glint in his eye, “seems to me you swore to kill me not so long ago.”

  Aaron smiled. “There’s still time.”

  The big man guffawed at that then broke into loud, boisterous laughter, slamming his fist on the table. When he’d gotten control of himself, he rubbed a thick finger across his eyes. “‘Still time,’ he says. Gods, but you really should have come and worked for me, lad. We’d have had a grand time.”

  “Maybe,” Aaron agreed, “but, then, I prefer working alone.” He paused, glancing around at all of the people gathered in the audience hall. “Or, at least, I did. Things change.”

  “So they do,” the big man said, nodding, “so they do.” He rubbed at his chin for a moment, thinking, then finally grunted, “Ah, fuck it, why not? You’ve got your two months. Either you come back with proof, and me and my boys get to be in one of the biggest scraps this world’s ever seen, or you end up dead. Seems to me that I come out ahead either way.”

  Aaron nodded. Not exactly the vote of confidence he would have liked, but it was the one he’d expected. “And you, General?” he said, turning to Yallek.

  The general studied him for several moments then gave a single, stiff nod. “Very well. I wonder if it is courage or stupidity that will have you walk into the lion’s den, but either way I will write to the council and tell them of your plan. You will have your two months.”

  “Courage or stupidity,” Aaron echoed. “In my experience, General, they’re pretty much the same thing.”

  “General Envelar,” Queen Isabelle said, her voice troubled as she spared a glance at Adina’s worried expression, “are you sure about this?”

  Sure? No, he wasn’t sure. But then, the only sure things in life were the grave and the pain a man would endure before he got there. He would have even preferred sitting around the castle, drinking ale and getting fat, listening to the damned fool guards whisper about him every time he walked by than walk into a kingdom full of his enemies. But, then, it was a close thing either way. Not that the queen needed to hear that—not that any of them did. “I’m sure,” he said with as much certainty as he could muster.

  She studied him for a moment more as if to give him an opportunity to back out. Then, finally, she nodded once. “Very well,” she said, “if it is your wish, then that is what we will do.”

  Gods no it’s not, I’d rather get blind drunk and juggle knives than go back to Baresh. “It is.”

  “When will you leave?” the queen asked.

  Aaron spared another glance at Adina. “Tonight. I’ll be nearly a month traveling back and forth to Baresh, and that only leaves me a month to get the proof we need. There’s no time to waste.”

  The queen nodded. “As you say.”

  The conversation went on from there about more mundane matters, mostly revolving around Isabelle’s concerns about the petty crimes that had been committed in the city since Hale and Grinner’s men had taken up residence behind its walls. She asked the two crime lords to ensure that the men and women they commanded were on their best behavior, and the two agreed, Hale smiling a small smile. Aaron could have told her that if no one had been killed then they were behaving themselves, at least as much as lifetime criminals were able, but he wasn’t really paying attention. His thoughts were on the journey ahead, and the days to come. Going back to Baresh would almost certainly mean his death. Sure, he’d managed to survive things no man had a right to, but he had to think that there was a limit on the amount of luck any man could expect. If that was the case, he’d spent his and then some already. The God of Luck was a fickle god and sooner or later every man was dealt his final hand. This, he thought, might very well be his.

  Then why do it? Co asked.

  Because I don’t have any choice, firefly. If the army leaves, we’re fucked and you know it. This is the only option.

  You’ve hurt her, you know.

  Aaron glanced over to where Adina was still studying him, her expression somewhere between anger and sadness. I know, he said, but if the choice is between her living and being pissed off at me, or her dying, then it’s really no choice at all.

  The meeting went on for another half hour or so until the queen called an end to it. They all rose, and Aaron had started to Adina, wanting to talk to her, to apologize, but he’d only made it a few steps when he heard his name called. He turned to see Hale walking up, the thickly-muscled man striding forward and offering his hand. Aaron glanced at it in surprise, then took it. The crime lord laughed, “Gods, boy, but if you ask me, you’ve got a death wish. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Hale,” Aaron said, “I haven’t known what I was doing for years.”

  The big man snorted. “Aye. Well, I always thought you were a crazy damned fool. Guess this just goes to show I was right.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Well,” the crime lord said, still smiling as he slapped Aaron on the back hard enough to make his teeth knock together, “I’ll leave you to it. And don’t go gettin’ greedy and killin’ the whole damned army, Silent—leave some for the rest of us. There’s some of us don’t feel normal, if we ain’t got to wash the blood off our hands at night.”

  Aaron gave the man a half-grin. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  “You do that,” the man said, “you do that.” Then he turned and noted Grinner and his bodyguard leaving the audience chamber. “Son of a bitch always has to be first,” Hale said, shaking his head. “Guess maybe they’ve got some catchin’ up to do, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think I do.”

  The crime boss nodded, hesitating as if he wanted to say something more. “Anyhow, try not to let ‘em kill ya if you can help it, boy. I’d hate for it to happen when I wasn’t there to see it.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Hale nodded again before turning and walking out of the audience chamber, bellowing for Grinner as he did. Aaron watched him go, shaking his head slowly. It was a damned miracle the two men hadn’t killed each other yet. Hale seemed to make a game of poking and prodding all of Grinner’s sensitive spots and for a man who spent his time among some of the world’s worst criminals, Grinner had a lot of them.

  “You ask me,” Captain Gant said, coming to stand beside him, “it’s a stupid thing you’re doing.”

  Aaron turned to the older man. “You’ve known me for a while now, Brandon. Have I ever given you the impression that I’m a genius?”

  The captain grunted, “No. No, I don’t guess you have. Still, though, I have a hard time figuring out how you’ll survive such a foolhardy thing. That said, I thought you were dead for sure when you and those crazy bastards of yours charged into Belgarin’s army at the gate.” He paused, meeting Aaron’s eyes. “A man can’t count on luck though, can he? I figure there’s a good chance that this won’t be like last time.”

  “Shit, Brandon,” Aaron said, “the most recent story I heard about the fight at the gate, there were only five of us, and we killed a thousand men by ourselves. Next thing you know, we’ll have grown wings and horns and engulfed Belgarin’s army with fire we breathed from our mouths. The last time wasn’t even like the last time.”

  “Yeah,” the captain said, “well.” He offered his hand. “I wish you luck. Anythin’ you need, you just ask, you understand?”

  Like a brain, maybe? Co said, but Aaron did his best to ignore her as he took the captain’s hand.

  “I appreciate that, Brandon.”

&nb
sp; The captain nodded, looking at Aaron as if he never expected to see him again which, Aaron supposed, he didn’t. “Alright then.” And he, too, turned and walked out of the audience chamber.

  “Were you even going to talk to me?”

  Aaron saw Adina standing beside him, her jaw set in anger. “Of course I was,” he said. “How was I to know that I’d have everybody in the city wanting to line up to shake my hand?”

  “Yeah,” Adina said, “well, they probably think it’s their last chance, considering that you’ll most likely be dead in a month.” Her voice broke on the last word, and Aaron reached up and cupped her face in his hand.

  “It’s not as bad as all that, Adina,” he said. “Baresh is a big city, and I’m sure that Belgarin will have plenty of other things to worry about than me sneaking into it.”

  “Maybe,” she said, her tone angry, “and what of Boyce Kevlane? Do you think he’ll be too busy to hunt for you too, Aaron?”

  He hesitated then sighed. “No, no I don’t think he will. But I’ve beaten him before, Adina. There’s always a chance I can do it again.”

  “Sure,” Adina said, “always assuming he happens to attack you on a castle balcony again. But somehow I find that fairly unlikely, don’t you?”

  Aaron winced. “Fairly, yeah.”

  “If my father had lived,” she said, grabbing his hands tightly in hers, “I would have been married off to some noble, a bargaining chip to increase the strength and standing of our house. It was how my mother and father were married, after all. I wouldn’t have loved him, at least not at first, but perhaps over time I would have come to. Anyway, my father died, and I fell in love with a sellsword. I suppose I can’t blame anyone but myself.”

  “It won’t always be like this, Adina,” he said, not sure it was true even as he said it. “Sooner or later, the fighting will be over.”

  Adina sighed, shaking her head sadly. “The fighting’s never over, Aaron. As long as there are men and women on this earth, there will be fighting. You know that as well as I do.”

  He did, but saying so wouldn’t help matters. “Well. My fighting then. Once we know that your brother and Boyce Kevlane are no longer a threat, then it can be over. There can be an ending to it. A beginning for us.”

  “Sure,” she said, “something to look forward to, if you somehow manage to survive your latest suicidal quest of traveling into Baresh alone.”

  “Oh, he will not be alone, Princess,” a new voice said, and they both turned to see Leomin walking towards them. “Although I have quite enjoyed my stay in Isalla thus far, mine is a mind that seeks its inspiration in the seeing of new places, the hearing of new sounds. My feet are ever searching for—”

  “Some married woman’s bed to climb in,” Aaron finished, scowling. “And what are you talking about new places? You’ve been to Baresh. You were there along with the rest of us.”

  “Ah yes,” Leomin said, “the me of months ago visited Baresh, and he enjoyed several aspects of it, I’ll freely admit. The me of now, though, has never seen the fabled city and would very much like to feast eyes on it for the first time…again.”

  Aaron rubbed at his temples where a headache was beginning to form, where one always seemed to form when he spoke to the Parnen. “The me of you then is the me of you now.” He paused, scowling. “Gods, but I’ve no idea what I just said. The shit’s contagious.”

  Leomin grinned widely, showing his bright white teeth, “I have never understood you better than I do now. As for the old me, why, I haven’t been him in months, Mr. Envelar.

  “Call me Aaron, you bastard,” Aaron said. “It’s a privilege I allow to people who I’m considering murdering. Anyway, is it that you want to see Baresh again for the first time or whatever the fuck that means? Or, more likely, has some husband learned that you and his wife have been playing snuff the candle while he’s out, and decided that one less Parnen in the world might not be such a bad thing?”

  Leomin cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aaron. Though—completely unrelated to what we’ve been discussing—I must admit that I’ve found that the men of Isalla can be quite…possessive of their women. And if such a man were searching for me—not that I’m saying Gerald is…” He frowned thoughtfully, “At least, I believe his name is Gerald. I couldn’t tell for sure what the dear lady shouted, as I was busy climbing out the window and trying to get dressed at the same time…” Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said. “That is, hypothetically, I was climbing out the window. Anyway, if such a man were searching for me, I’m sure it would be only to have a conversation. After all, violence is so very rarely the answer, and it is very unbecoming. Probably one of the reasons his wife has sought her pleasure elsewhere, in fact.” He cleared his throat. “If she has.”

  “What are you worried about anyway, Leomin?” Aaron said. “You could just wave your fingers at the man, talk some of your normal nonsense, and the next thing you knew, he’d be folding back the blankets for you himself.”

  Leomin placed a hand to his chest. “Mr. Envelar, you wound me. I would never use Aliandra in such a way. The Virtues are magical beings of great power and prestige and to use one in such a way would be a…sort of defilement. It would be crass and rude, the equivalent of dressing a cow in a woman’s fine silk dress.”

  Aaron grinned. “Aliandra tell you that, did she?”

  Leomin cleared his throat. “I…that is …” He glanced at Adina for help and saw that despite her fear and anger, Adina was grinning too, then he looked back to Aaron. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Anyway, it is a poor way to use such power.”

  “Huh,” Aaron said, nodding slowly, “good enough to use to get into a woman’s bed, just not for the husband who normally shares it with her.”

  Leomin looked around as if hoping someone would rescue him from his predicament but everyone save the three of them had already left the audience chamber. He sighed heavily. “I do believe I remember telling you once before, Aaron, that having been bonded with Aliandra for so long, I cannot completely control the usage of the power. In fact, you could say that I do not use the power at all, but that it uses me. Yes,” he said, nodding with more confidence, “that’s it. I am merely a vessel.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “and a damned horny one from what I’m told.” The Parnen could drive a man insane, but Aaron had known him for a while now, and he knew that Leomin could be a handy man to have around. “Fine, Leomin,” he said, “you can come. But I need to make sure that you understand the kind of danger we’re going to be walking into.”

  “That,” Leomin said, casting a quick look over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be creeping up behind him, “is the funny thing about danger, Mr. Envelar. It is the only thing I know of that a man can walk out of to walk into. And some dangers, I find, are more well…shall we say, dangerous than others.”

  “Meaning jealous husbands.”

  Leomin frowned. “And fathers. Really, if a woman has seen two decades of life, I think it quite suffocating to treat her as if she’s still…” He cut off, sighing, then straightened himself, brushing an invisible speck of dirt from his tunic. “It would be my honor and pleasure to accompany you, sir.”

  “Fine,” Aaron said, “just so long as we’re back in nine months or so.”

  The Parnen frowned. “Nine? I will admit that I was slightly distracted during the meeting—you see, there’s this woman that goes by …” His brow furrowed in thought and finally he waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, she works at one of the inns near the castle. A truly fine establishment, at least I seem to remember as much. Though,” he continued, rubbing a hand thoughtfully along his chin, “I suppose I didn’t really pay much attention…”

  “You don’t even remember her name?” Adina said.

  The Parnen froze for a moment, like a deer seeing a wolf, then he visibly gathered his confidence and smiled smugly. “Ah, Princess, I do not know
how to explain it to you. You see, when two people find themselves sharing such a connection as she and I shared, there is little need for such mundane concerns as names.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “a need for clean sheets though, no doubt.”

  “Putting the matter aside for a moment,” Leomin said uncomfortably, “I had felt quite certain that those gathered here today had agreed on a two month time frame for our journey to Baresh.”

  “They did,” Aaron said, nodding, “but I thought in nine months we should come back regardless, see if maybe there’s been an unusually high birth rate of dark skinned Parnen babies. I suspect that, if so, some of those women whose bedrooms you have frequented might be very interested in meeting with you again.”

  Leomin’s shoulders hunched as if he was a turtle trying to slide his head under his shell, “Alas,” he said, glancing around as if half-expecting to see an army of pregnant women marching toward him, one hand on their belly the other raised over their head in a fist, “we are all as the gods made us and it is given to men of certain dispositions to wander and women of…certain…err…conditions to wonder. It is a truth that is beyond us all, Mr. Envelar.”

  “As interesting as all of this is,” Adina said, frowning at the Parnen before turning to look at Aaron, “I still think it’s a mistake. If May were here, she’d tell you as much.”

  Aaron was thankful the club owner wasn’t there, just for that reason. With her and Adina together, he figured he would have been in just about as much danger as he would be if Belgarin found him sneaking into his city. She’d been invited to the meeting, of course, but had explained to Aaron the day before that she wasn’t feeling well. He’d taken the opportunity to express his surprise considering that, from what he’d heard, she’d been spending most of her time lying around in bed with a certain first mate, no doubt getting plenty of rest. She hadn’t found the joke as funny as she might have, though, and he was glad that the already irate club owner hadn’t been here for this meeting. “We don’t have any choice, Adina,” he said, “We have to do something. If the armies leave…well, you know what happens.”