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  “What does that mean?”

  She looked over at the barkeep and then back at her guest. “Your lil ol’ pocket bag makes a sound of joy when you walk with that big swagger of yers. I could hear it fore ever you stepped off the pier.”

  Malik nodded, understanding now how he was selected by the observant Balarian woman. What he thought was hardly audible and of nothing worthy to note was a major way in which these Balarians sized up their visitors. He wondered what other information he was unknowingly giving out to those of this realm. “So you provide some introductions, arrange a meal, lodging, and perhaps even supplies, and you take a small cut or commission, correct?”

  “You don’t have to be so blunt widit, but yes, something like that. I won’t go into further detail since you seem something of a country bumpkin, but we have protocols”—she emphasized this word as if she had learned it not long ago and was eager to use it in a conversation—“when making such business transactions.”

  Malik struggled not to laugh. He felt much more at ease now understanding that a simple drink, a cheap coin or two, and perhaps, if she was lucky, a meal and a night’s lodging could be had with little effort. As long as he wasn’t a mark for robbery, or worse, murder, he could handle this situation. “I understand now, so perhaps you’ll join me for supper and we can discuss your city and country a bit more?”

  Collette smiled a huge grin, showing her teeth, which all weren’t exactly pearly white. “Can we have the roast duck? It’s to die for here. Pay no heed to the seafaring nature of the place. Tis expected in a port city and such, but the kitchen cook is something special with the poultry.”

  Malik put his hand under his belt to be sure his coin bag was still attached. Feeling it brought him a measure of comfort, and he nodded at the woman. “Roast duck it will be, then.”

  The older serving lady returned, bringing both their drinks and taking their food order. She scurried back to the kitchen, as it was still relatively early and the many men and women working in and around the port were just now calling it a day. They drank and then ate in silence, Malik intent on watching who came and went from the establishment and those passing by on the street outside. Collette seemed intent on simply eating, not feigning to have manners, and using her hands to tear into her meal. She seemed to have not eaten in more than a day.

  When there was no more duck left, Collette wiped her hands on a napkin and then used it to wipe her mouth, and asked, “So what brings a fine gentleman from the mainland so far across the sea?”

  “It’s only a day away,” Malik said. Even though his journey was three days. Two of those days were spent traveling north up the coast, bypassing Rockton, and then only a day to travel east into the deep blue waters of the ocean.

  “You could walk over the water and I’d still ask ye the same thing. We ain’t seen many travelers from the west of lates.”

  Malik took a moment to take in the scene. So far, he’d had two drinks, a large meal, a nice spot at a bay window overlooking at least one main thoroughfare in this town, and so far, he hadn’t been asked for a single coin. He saw no bouncer or other security specialist to enforce any payment due. It was baffling to him, so he changed the subject on her. “How does this place collect its coin. I mean, what’s due?”

  “What?” Collette asked, a confused look on her face.

  “What’s to stop me from simply walking out of here without paying?”

  She seemed startled, and a look of surprise crossed her face before she suddenly started to chuckle. “You got me there,” she said, smacking the table with one hand, and then adding, “I almost believed ya for a minute.”

  “Oh, I fully intend to pay, but where I come from, we have enforcers who ensure payment is made in a timely manner,” Malik said casually.

  Collette took another sip of her drink and then set it down. “The guild is our enforcer. Everyone’s enforcer, in fact. They would take care of any lowlifers, though we know that isn’t what you are, no siree.”

  “Is the guild watching us now?” Malik asked, casually scanning the room for the tenth time that hour.

  “Of course not,” Collette answered, looking around the room and wondering what the young man kept looking for. “But if the master of the tavern don’t get his coin, then he can’t pay the guild, and the guild will come looking for it once it’s been reported. They always get their cut.”

  “And if a . . . lowlifer leaves . . .” Malik pondered out loud.

  “It’s an island. Folks don’t just leave unless they walk on water.” Collette rolled her eyes now, as if talking to a child. “So what’s up with all your questions?”

  “Do they bother you?” Malik asked.

  “Nah, I’d be happy to sit, drink, eat, and answer as many questions as you throw my way, good sir, but I’m curious now as to who or what you are a-looking for.”

  “Let us say that my master . . .” Malik hesitated for a moment and then felt disgusted and corrected his last statement. “My colleague set up a meeting with a . . . business associate in order to . . . conduct commerce somewhere nearby here.”

  “I see . . .” Collette said, continuing. “And I also know . . . that none of this . . . is any of my . . . business.”

  The mimicry was all but mocking, but in a complimentary sort of way, so Malik could not be angry with her for it. “So I am waiting for an unknown associate to turn up in order to conduct my business.”

  “What is his or her name?” Collette asked.

  “Well, that is the rather embarrassing part of all this,” Malik said. “The person with whom I’m supposed to meet knows me, but I don’t know them.”

  “I see yer troubles,” she said, taking her cup and downing another sip of her aromatic beverage. Malik was wondering what all this was going to cost. “Perhaps it would be best for you to clean up, refresh yourself a bit, and then spend some time at the main square.”

  “I can go for a good bath,” Malik noted, looking at his soiled clothes. “But what would I do at the square?”

  “That is a meeting place for visitors; pretty common for strangers to meet up there. I figured your master . . . ah, your friend, would have told you so,” she said.

  “Well, he didn’t,” Malik clarified. “I’m getting tired. Can you arrange for a room and a bath?”

  “Of course,” Collette said with a smile, waving her hand furiously at the server. When the older lady arrived, Collette said, “Sybil, sweety, can you tell Harvey to have a room ready for our gentleman friend Master Malik.”

  “Malik will do,” he said.

  Collette couldn’t stop smiling despite being interrupted by the young man. “All right, tell Harvey to have the Siren Room ready for our . . . Mister Malik . . . Oh, and can you get one of the gals to run some hot water in the bathing room for your guest?”

  Sybil nodded and smiled. “Right away. Perhaps the young man would like some new clothes? If not, we can arrange for a good washing of what he has on now.”

  Collette opened her mouth wide. “Do you think the Swashbucker will be open later this evening? They’ve been closing early of late, as old man Turner isn’t feeling well these days.”

  “I’ll send one of the lads to tell ’em to stay put till you can get Mister Malik over to his shop,” Sybil said as she ran to arrange things.

  “Something tells me this is going to be expensive,” Malik said, shaking his head and looking round to see if anyone was paying attention to the fuss the two women were putting on. There were a handful of people, but most had their backs to them, and no one was sitting close to their window table.

  “Now, dearie, don’t you fret none,” Collette began. “A man of your means will do just fine.”

  “Then call your innkeeper and let’s settle up first. I want to know what this is going to cost me before we go much further.”

  In the end, the owner of The Wild Mermaid came over and introduced himself. He was an older gentleman with a scar over half his neck, though no explanat
ion was given or asked for. The prices were quite reasonable, and the fear of being robbed, in a more legal and formal manner with exorbitant prices for room and board, melted away.

  The drinks were a handful of coppers, and a single silver piece took care of the entrée that they shared. Two silvers paid for a night in one of their best rooms overlooking the harbor, though it was a good walk up four flights of stairs, and several more coppers took care of the bath. Malik learned that Collette would be allowed to stay with the servants in a rear room off the kitchen as part of her commission for bringing business, not to mention her food and drink that Malik had paid for.

  At first, he had a hard time tucking the staff under the bed in his room, but bringing all his belongings to the bathroom wasn’t ideal, either. He kept a good grip on the room key and allowed himself to enjoy a hot bath. His clothes were washed, though it took close to an hour to dry.

  He didn’t mind much as he soaked for the first time in months. Even in Korwell, after the officers had bathed, the water was not much better than room temperature, as the garrison servants didn’t bother to stoke the fires further and heat more water. Being enlisted, and an outsider to boot, he was always one of the last to bathe in dirty water. He found that he had actually preferred his last role as a scout in the Korwell army, where he took cold baths in river water using sand to cleanse his body. That woke a man up in the morning for sure, he thought to himself.

  When he finished, he allowed himself to be led a couple of blocks up the street away from the harbor, where a tailor shop called The Swashbuckler was located. The old man there seemed genuinely friendly and knew a great deal more about fashion and clothing than Malik thought possible. In the end, he settled on a new tunic, breeches, and a clean cloak, this time a brown one. Collette wanted him to buy a fancy cap for his head, but Malik thought he’d look ridiculous in it despite her constant flattery of how fashionable he’d look with it on. During the entire shopping experience no one commented on his silver bracers, though they did raise more than one eyebrow.

  When they returned to The Wild Mermaid, the place was half full. Most seemed to be workers from the docks, though there was a mingling of local folks and a few strangers. One man looked like a Northman, but in stylish silk clothing that seemed out of place on his large frame. He sat in one corner with a pair of dockhands playing cards and drinking ale, from the look of things.

  Malik finished his business and retired for the night despite pleas for a few drinks from Collette and an offer of some game playing by a pair of teamsters who had recently arrived from the outer fields, bringing produce for the market. The first thing he did was check that the staff was still under his bed, and it was. He locked the door and retired for the night, sleeping in a soft bed for the first time since spring.

  He never noticed the woman watching him from the corner, waiting till he left the main room in the tavern before she slipped quietly into the night.

  Chapter 8

  Thieves

  The next day dawned bright and early, and the workers along the port were busy loading and unloading ships that never ceased arriving and departing. The bustle woke the young Ulathan, and he reached under his bed in panic to feel for the Kesh staff. It was there. He sighed and wondered how in Agon he was going to lug the large metallic item with him everywhere he went. Luckily for him, he was tall, and when he slung it from a makeshift sling off his shoulder and he stood or walked with his cloak on, it wasn’t noticeable at all. Once he had to sit or do something else, it stuck out like a six-foot pole, which it basically was.

  He dressed in his new clothes and left the old ones in a drawer that belonged to a chest that had five of them standing opposite of his bed, which was big enough for two. He wasn’t sure if Collette was the sort of lady to share a bed or not with a strange man, but he wasn’t interested in finding out. He was more worried about fulfilling his mission and obtaining his revenge. Once dressed and the staff secured under his belt, he headed downstairs to see if Collette was up and about and ready to show him to the square. If she wasn’t, he intended to go there alone.

  She was up before him and offered him a cup of coffee, which she was drinking as well. He had been introduced to the beverage years ago when keeping watch on cold, dark evenings atop the castle walls in Korwell. It was almost a staple of any guard in Ulatha. The coffee here was much better, however, and they had sugar and milk to dress it with. He drank his standing up by the bar before asking if they could leave for the square.

  “Did ye sleep well, Mister Malik?” Collette asked, seemingly more energetic after a good meal and a long night’s rest.

  “I did. Thank you for asking. Is it far to the square?”

  “All business ye be. I see that now,” she said, pointing ahead as they walked on flatter streets. “The square is at the bottom of the city near the port, so not far. We’re almost there.”

  Sure enough, within two minutes, they exited the street, which Malik thought to be broad, and entered a large open square paved with flat stones. It was easily two stone throws wide in any direction, and there were no fountains, ornaments, or statues to adorn it. It was so devoid of any accoutrements that Malik wondered what the purpose of the large open space could be. It seemed to be taking up prime real estate in the heart of the city.

  “What do you do here? It seems so . . . open.” Malik stopped and looked around.

  It took a moment to notice, but here and there, various merchants, tradesmen, businessmen, and other commerce types lulled around, talking in small groups, presumably doing business, negotiating deals, trades, and transactions. Collette confirmed it for him. “They’re doing business.”

  “There’s nowhere to sit,” Malik noted, though glad to not have to undo the staff and explain that to the curious woman. She seemed to have ignored it when they’d first arrived at the tavern, and he kept it discreet as best he could. “I guess we stand.”

  “It’s comfortable enough,” she said, looking around and pressing her dress flat, trying to smooth the wrinkles from the night prior.

  Now that Malik had bathed and felt better, he noticed a certain aroma from his companion and tried to ignore it. He failed. “Do you mind if I pay for a bath for you?”

  She gave him a cross look for a moment and then nodded. “If you’re willing, I’ll be happy to enjoy one.”

  Malik tried to ease his prior words. “Well, it felt . . . refreshing last night. I thought after all the hard work you’ve done on my behalf, it’s the least I could offer you.”

  Collette seemed to perk up at that. “You are a gentleman, Mister Malik. Thank you very much.”

  Malik started to feel awkward and wondered if his paler skin was getting pink around his cheeks as his mother had often told him when they were at the market together and a pretty young gal paid him more attention than he was accustomed to on the homestead. He had become used to the allures of the opposite sex in the city as a guard, so he wondered why he was feeling stressed about complimenting his companion.

  “Think nothing of it,” Malik began, and then quickly changed the subject. “What do we do now? I mean, how long do we stand around this square for?”

  “Well,” she began, looking around to see if anyone was about to approach them, “the customary times for initiating business are now, when the sun has risen above the eastern-most watchtower there,” she said, pointing at a military structure that jutted from the shoreline, guarding the eastern part of the city along a rough cliff. Balax was next to the ocean on three sides, with only the western-most side protected by the deep-water bay. “At high noon, when the sun is directly overhead, and evening, just before the sun sets to the west.”

  Malik scratched his head. “And this means exactly what?”

  “It means, silly,” she scolded him slightly, though gave him a coy smile, “that you only have to come here at those times to wait. You don’t want to be a dolt, now do you, and stand here all day with your hands in your pockets?”

  Mal
ik intuitively felt his breeches, which had no pockets, and quickly forgot the admonishment. “Fair enough. We wait, then. I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but I felt it better to do so during the day.”

  “Oh, really?” she asked, her curiosity now piqued. “What could it be to require the bright light of day to ask?”

  Malik shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking at his dirty boots and thinking for a moment that perhaps he should have bought new ones. Then he looked her in the eye, saying, “What do you know about the Akun temple?”

  Collette’s eyes widened a bit at the mention of the place. “You mean the death temple?”

  “Is that what you call it?” he asked.

  “Well, if it’s one and the same, then yes, everyone’s heard of it.”

  “What can you tell me about it?” He pressed her for details.

  Collette put her hand to her chin and looked down for a moment in a pensive state as she recollected what stories she had heard about the Dor Akun temple. “I can tell you that no one goes there. The entire mountainside where it is located is haunted.”

  “An entire mountain is haunted?” Malik asked dubiously.

  “Aye,” she said, bobbing her head up and down. “There used to be expeditions there long ago, but no one returned . . . alive.”

  Malik took a moment to tilt his own head, though he refrained from performing the exact same motion of rubbing his chin as she had done. “What exactly are you inferring?”

  “Well,” she said, seeming to doubt the stories herself, “they say that when an expedition went up there, sometimes, if a member returned, he or she did so as a monster.”

  “Monster?”

  “Aye, sort of like one of them dead zombies we heard talk about, though maybe they were tales to scare children to sleep.”

  “Why would you scare a child to sleep? I’d think that would keep them awake and not help them to slumber.” Malik narrowed his eyes.