Goris awoke to firm, repeated prodding in his ribs. He attempted to open his eyes, finding them reluctant to comply, flinching as slivers of light reached through. He groaned, hearing Hesler’s smug laughter. Pain lanced through his temples as his brother ruffled his hair; he could have sworn his brain was shaken loose. ‘No. Off. Gods, I hate being the youngest sometimes.’
Hesler stood over him, hands on hips. ‘Careful what you wish for, brother. If you were in my shoes, you’d have your younger sibling’s scrawny hide to watch over. Trust me, it’s not as much fun as it looks. Though I get to enjoy moments such as this, your first ale-induced thick head.’
A wave of nausea washed over Goris at the mention of ale. He shook his head and waved a hand. ‘No more ale.’
‘Fine, but I suggest you drag your bones out of this pit and take yourself to the washroom. You reek like a brew house rat. And be quick about it too; the mid-bell isn’t far off!’
Goris’ body protested as he pushed himself upright. The room spun momentarily, and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
‘You look like Kel the Lush from the back home,’ Hesler crowed. His brother bit his lip, attempting to keep his face straight.
Goris grimaced. ‘How does he bear it?’
‘Well, outward appearances would suggest that he just keeps drinking, and that means his thick head never sets in. There are disadvantages to that approach, of course.’
Goris nodded, and stood, pleased he restricted himself to only the faintest of wobbles. He staggered to the washroom, a sad smile on his face as a pang of homesickness welled up within him. He had some growing up to do; they’d only been away from home just over a quarter-moon. If he was going to find himself a bride, he needed to project himself as a man, not the wide-eyed, fearful boy he’d shown himself to be thus far. He sighed, screwing his face up as he caught a whiff of his own breath. He moved to the wash bucket and splashed his face with water. Acting like a man would be no use at all if no-one dared venture close enough to speak to him.
Once washed, he returned to the room and dressed. Hesler informed him they likely wouldn’t return to the inn for the rest of the day, so he put on his best shirt. It wasn’t much better than the rest, but it was free from stains and the whitest one he owned. Hesler gave him an appraising look, slapping his cheek fondly. ‘You’ll do. Now we just need to find a girl daft enough to burden herself with you.’
Goris scowled, but recognised the playful jab for what it was. He took a deep breath and considered the day ahead. His trepidation at venturing into the city wasn’t as sharp, his confidence bolstered by the previous evening passing without incident. After the old woman’s spectacular display, Hesp’s implication that the inn was safe had proven to be true. The patrons certainly recognised that he and Hesler were from out of town, and they’d been the butt of some good-natured jokes. Aside from the part where one of the serving girls had flirted with him and caused him to blush a deep shade of red, he’d felt comfortable. The only real worry he had was the possibility of that mage watching him like a darthawk, making Goris feel like a fish flopping around on a riverbank, waiting to be scooped up in deadly talons, to be gutted and devoured.
An involuntary shiver ran through him, and he pushed thoughts of the mage from his mind. ‘I should remind you that mother expects you to find someone to court as well. And with you being older than me, I suppose she’ll want grandchildren sooner rather than later.’ He stepped past his brother with a smug grin on his face, satisfied by the disturbed, far-off look that crossed Hesler’s face.
He pulled the door open and froze. His grin fell away as the urge to weep threatened to overwhelm him. The mage leaned against the wall of the hallway opposite their room, arms folded, a languid smile appearing as Goris’ face contorted with dread and fear.
He stepped forward and placed a palm on Goris’ chest, took a quick glance to either side, and pushed him gently backwards into the room. Hearing Hesler’s groan as the mage entered the room, Goris tensed as his legs felt like they would give way.
The mage laughed as he took them both in. ‘Boys,’ he began, voice low and gleeful. ‘You really need to learn to relax. Have I harmed you?’ He waited for a response, his disappointment evident when none was forthcoming. ‘No. And believe me, if I’d wanted to leave you as fodder for the rats, I’d have done so by now and no-one would be any the wiser. I am meeting my donkey loving shambles of an agent shortly. You’ve seen him before, of course. I require a meeting place away from prying eyes, ears and, well, other means of detection. You boys know Scavenger’s Point?’
‘I know it,’ Hesler replied, chewing his lip.
‘Good. Meet me there in half a bell. And by Droll’s dangly ball sack, will you relax? I’m not going to dump you in the river.’ He stamped out of the room, shaking his head. Goris thought he heard him mutter ‘farmboys,’ as he went.
Goris sat on the bed with a thump, head in his hands. ‘I wish I’d never left the village,’ he moaned. Frustration and anger welled up in him. He just wanted to be free of the sadistic mage. Grabbing two fistfuls of his own hair, he pulled until it hurt. ‘We’re just simple villagers. What use are we to him? We know nothing about the world apart from how to tend animals and crops and how to mend fences.’
Hesler paced up and down before him, thoughtful. ‘It’s clear the Lady of Chaos has glanced in our direction, brother. We are like a leaf, fallen from a tree to float upon the current of the river. What use fretting over what we can’t control?’ He held up a hand at Goris’ indignant look. ‘Wait, let me finish. The mage had a point. He hasn’t harmed us. I regret crossing paths with him as much as you, but it would appear there is to be no escape for us until we’re no longer of any use to him or he grows tired of us. If he will listen to reason, we may be able to bargain for our release. But first we need to earn his trust or his respect, or both.’
‘We could run,’ Goris suggested. ‘We’re nothing to him.’
‘You may be right, but are you willing to take the risk that you’re wrong?’
Goris hissed with frustration. ‘No. Gods, what a mess. Fine, we go to meet him. How far away is this Scavenger’s Point? Where is it?’
‘Not far, but we’d best leave.’
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing good, brother.’
‘Of course it isn’t. Nothing in this latrine pit of a city is.’
Hesler guided them to the road that ran alongside Dead Man’s Brook. From there, they followed the winding cobbles downhill for a time, before crossing a narrow stone bridge across the brook. Goris half expected to see a lifeless body bouncing down towards the river in the rock-strewn torrent, and was relieved that the brook failed to live up to its name. The stench of refuse hung heavy in the air. Human waste and rotten food flowed steadily into the brook from sewers than ran under the maze of the Rattle. Resisting the urge to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve, he trudged on at Hesler’s side, throwing a nervous glance behind at regular intervals to relieve his fear that they may have been followed.
As they approached North Bank, Hesler pulled Goris off to the side of the road and down a set of steep stone steps leading to a treacherous path running alongside the frothing brook. They passed under a bridge and the path opened out into a small marshy flat, banked by rocks to prevent the river from encroaching. Grim-looking men and women perched on those rocks, glaring at one another with suspicion and distrust as they wielded long wooden poles with hooks affixed to the end.
Boots squelched underfoot as they traversed the perpetually sodden earth. Goris searched for any sign of the mage, finding none. A man in rags squatted over a pile of worthless junk, a collection of possessions fished from the brook and discarded by the pole-wielders. Upon noticing Goris’ regard, the old man twisted to face them. A wild-eyed, toothless snarl issued forth from behind a beard snagged with dirt and debris. As the brothers skirted a path around him, a smooth voice spoke from behind them, amused.
‘Careless, to let me get so close so easily.’
Goris whipped his head around to find a handsome man walking in step with them, studying the floor. ‘You must be the brothers. Come, my employer awaits.’
Goris exchanged a glance with Hesler, who nodded for them to follow. A ramshackle wooden building with a dangerous lean that looked like it had once housed boats awaited them at the top of a gravel ramp. The mage stood, arms folded, feet fidgeting. He curtly waved the three of them closer. With a sour look on his face, he began. ‘I trust you had the good sense to avoid being followed.’
Goris nodded, seeing the agent’s slight nod from the corner of his eye. It appeared they had been followed, after all, by this very man.
‘I have a task for the pair of you. A small thing. Do this and although you won’t be fully free of me, it’s unlikely you’ll hear from me again unless we happen to be in the same corner of the world. Now, I know you’re here for the festival, and I’m not going to get in the way of that. However, before you leave the city, I’d like you to have a closer look around the inn.’
Goris loosed a sigh of relief. ‘Is that all? What are we looking for?’
The mage showed a hint of a smile. ‘Better you don’t know. Anything… unusual. Search the outhouses, search for any hidden rooms, a basement. And don’t get caught. I can’t afford to make my presence known to certain people within the city, so you’re on your own, understand?’
‘Got it,’ Hesler agreed.
‘Good. Don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Now leave us, and be sure to wash your boots in the river.’ He paused a moment, his face softening into a knowing smile. ‘And boys… when it comes to the festival, remember that Adenne favours the bold.’
They made their way back up to the North Bank. Decorations for the festival stood out after the stark nature of the Rattle. Goris felt more positive about their alliance with the mage. If being strong-armed into a favour could be called an alliance. Hesler, however, had been quiet since the meeting. ‘What’s the matter, brother? Having a quick look around the inn should be a simple task, and then we’re free of him. He said so himself.’
Hesler grunted. ‘Perhaps. But if scouting the inn is so easy, why doesn’t he do it himself?’
‘Huh. I guess I hadn’t thought about that. But it’s just an inn.’
‘He seems to think otherwise.’ He looked at Goris for a moment. ‘Come on, think about it. We’re expendable. The same as when they send mice into the mines to make sure there is nothing nasty leaking out. He’s sending us in ahead to see if there is any danger, and how much.’
‘So we have a quick look and tell him we didn’t find anything. Or we don’t look at all.’
‘You think the likes of us can get away with lying to the likes of him?’
Goris sighed. ‘No, I suppose not. We could tell Hesp. He seems like a man who can deal with situations like this.’
‘I got the feeling that Hesp was exactly who the mage had in mind when he told us not to tell anyone. And we don’t know Hesp very well at all. He might not take too kindly to being dragged into this.’
Hesler took a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s for tomorrow. Let’s worry about it tomorrow. We’re here for the festival.’
Goris shuffled along the North Bank at his brother’s side, feet feeling heavy. Although he agreed he shouldn’t worry about their situation, it was all he could think of as they headed back to the inn. The sound of horns and drums sounded in the distance, yet he paid them little heed as he searched for a way to wriggle out of their obligation to the mage. He felt like a mouse preparing to scurry across a field.
And the only thing left to decide is which one of us the hawk sinks its talons into first, unless the hawk chases us into the wolf’s jaws.