Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (9 page)

Rezkin was suddenly surprised to realize that the man before
him looked
dangerous
. He had an air of wealth, power and authority but
also a confidence and self-assurance such that he did not need to flaunt it.
This was the kind of man that people respected simply because his presence
demanded it.
Is
this
who I am
? He did not think so. He realized
that he must have settled into a role on instinct, not even realizing what he
was doing.

Gathering himself and hiding away the absurd amount of
wealth he was carrying around with him, he headed down to the common room for
dinner. In his absence, the room had become quite full with patrons enjoying food
and drink. It smelled like herbs, roasted meat, and fresh bread. Rezkin’s
stomach grumbled, and he realized that he was hungrier than he thought.

“Ah, Lord Rezkin, I am glad you could join us for dinner,”
Master Nol called out from a few paces away at the bar.

The young man nodded and replied, “Thank you, Master Nol,
but please, just call me Rezkin.”

Master Nol’s smile faltered at the odd request, and he hoped
he had not offended the young man. “Of course…ah…Rezkin. Please have a seat,
and I will have a meal brought out to you. Would you like an ale, perhaps?”

Rezkin had only had ale, wine or spirits for training
purposes because they were appropriate to consume in certain social situations,
but he had never developed a taste for any of them. Glancing around quickly, he
realized this was one of those situations he would be expected to imbibe. “Yes,
thank you. Your best, please,” Rezkin replied with a tight smile. He would have
preferred water.

Upon entering the room, he had immediately taken stock of
the occupants and available seating. Now, he headed toward the far side where a
small table sat near the hearth. It was not the most ideal seating in the room,
but it would suffice. He could observe most of the common room from his seat
and no one was sitting at his back. None of the people around him seemed
threatening. An older couple sat with a middle-aged couple on the other side of
the hearth, and a young man and woman were seated directly in front of him. A
lean man in a flashy silk robe was strumming a lute to his left.

The young couple across from him caught his eye again. He
had never seen two people behaving in such a way. The man was holding the
woman’s hand, and Rezkin wondered if he was restraining her. The woman did not
appear to want to get away, though, since she was laughing and smiling. All of
their attention seemed to be focused on what the other was saying and staring
into each other’s eyes.

How could they possibly be watching for threats or listening
to subtle changes in atmosphere if they were completely oblivious? And, after
one had examined the other’s eyes for a moment, why would he or she possibly
need to continue to examine them? It was not as if they were going to change.
But, perhaps that was why the man was holding the woman’s hand. Perhaps he was
staring into her eyes to gauge the truthfulness of her words, and he kept a
grip on her hands to keep her from accessing a weapon. Perhaps this was an
interrogation. He had never seen anyone enjoy an interrogation so much, though,
and both of the young people’s behaviors did seem to fit the definition of
enjoyment.

Rezkin realized he was focusing his own attention in one
place for too long and went back to surveying the room. After a few moments, a
cloaked young woman who entered the bar while he was seating himself turned to
survey the room. When her eyes landed on him they widened, and her jaw fell
just enough to part her lips.  Realizing he had seen her staring, her face
flushed, and she quickly looked away.

Rezkin mentally kicked himself for forgetting to smile. He
did not necessarily want to catch her attention, but he did not want to seem
unfriendly or intimidating to people, either. He was, after all, trying to fit
in. The young warrior kept an eye on the woman as he continued to observe the
room for any threats. Finally, she gathered herself and headed in his
direction.

“Excuse me,” she said in a soft but cheerful voice, “I don’t
mean to intrude, but there are no more tables available. Might I sit with you?”

Dark brown eyes like molasses in the firelight looked at him
imploringly from beneath thick black lashes. She had a heart-shaped face and
pale skin with just a few freckles dusting her nose and upper cheeks. Wavy
brown hair hung past her shoulders over a pale green tunic. Rezkin was
surprised to see that the woman was wearing dark brown pants rather than the
ridiculous layers of fabric worn by the other women he had seen. She had a long
dagger tucked into her belt, but he could see no other weapons.

Mentally kicking himself again he plastered on the same
courtly smile he had given the maid earlier and said, “Of course, you are
welcome to sit with me. I do not believe that I will need both seats for
myself.”

The woman actually laughed, although he did not know why.
Her eyes roved over him for a moment, presumably to assess the threat. He
appreciated her observational skills and was relieved to find someone who could
at least follow
some
of the
Rules
in this strange society.

“No, I don’t believe you would. You seem very fit.” Her eyes
widened and she laughed, “I mean, you seem to fit…um…in your seat, that is.”
Her face flushed again, and Rezkin remember his
Etiquette Skills
. He was
supposed to stand and assist her in seating herself. He could see why most
women needed assistance with even the most basic physical actions with all
those layers of fabric in which to get tangled, but this woman was not wearing
anything restrictive. Well, the masters had never said this particular rule of
etiquette was dependent on the attire, so he stood and pulled her chair out,
anyway.

The woman smiled up at him and said, “Thank you, you’re such
a gentleman.”

Well, he supposed that was true. He
was
attempting to
be gentle. He did not want to frighten anyone away, especially if the person
did not pose a threat to him.

“You are welcome, my lady. My name is Rezkin,” he said as he
took her hand and laid a soft kiss across her fingers. The masters had taught
him that when in doubt, assume a higher station. Since this woman seemed to be
following more of the
Rules
than the other people he met, he decided she
deserved more respect, so he would treat her as a lady until he learned
otherwise.

“Oh,” the young woman breathed, “I…um…I’m…” she blinked
several times as her face flushed again. Was she trying to think of a name?
Perhaps she did not want to give him her real name, and she was obviously
becoming flustered about it. It did not really matter to him, since they were
just sharing a table. He had only introduced himself because it was protocol.
Still, he felt a bit disappointed, and he was not sure why.
Perhaps it is
because I failed at performing to expectation?

“It is all right, my lady. You do not have to tell me if you
prefer to keep it to yourself. I understand,” Rezkin bowed slightly to show he
was not offended. The masters had told him that to not introduce himself
properly could be considered an offense, but that did not mean
he
had to
feel offended. He felt a slight tightness in his chest, again, and furrowed his
brow in confusion. It had been nearly two weeks since the battle at the fort.
Surely he was not still experiencing pain from an injury.

“Oh, no!” the woman gasped. Her eyes widened in alarm as she
grabbed his hand. He nearly jerked away in defense but managed to stop himself
just in time. Outworlders were prone to more non-violent physical contact. “I
did not mean to offend you. I’m sorry. It’s just that you surprised me is all.”

Rezkin frowned in confusion. He
knew
it. He
had
done something wrong. “I surprised you? Did I act inappropriately in some way,
my lady?”

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite, really. I mean, I’m not
a lady. Just Frisha. My name, I mean, is Frisha.”

Rezkin smiled, once again relieved that he had not caused
her distress, although he still did not know why she had become flustered. “It
is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Frisha.”

“Oh, please, don’t call me Mistress. It makes me feel old,
and I am only twenty, after all,” she replied just as the maid, Roxiella,
brought them their food. Rezkin was actually surprised to hear that the young
woman was a year older than he. Roxie smiled shyly at Rezkin and completely
ignored Frisha as she set the plates and goblets before them. “We are friends
after all,” Frisha continued.

That
caught his attention.
Friends?

“We are friends?” he asked.

“Well, of course we are! Here we are sharing a meal and
having pleasant conversation,” Frisha replied with a soft smile. “It’s a start,
right? Being friends, I mean.” Her expressive face communicated both hope and
fear.

Rezkin mulled the question over in his mind.
Rule 1
was to protect and honor his
friends
. Logically, he would have to start
by finding these
friends
. Perhaps Frisha was a member of a select group,
and somehow she managed to identify him as a part of it. Somehow, she knew she
was his
friend
before he did. Had Frisha known he was here or was it
just happenstance that they managed to find each other in this big city? No
matter how he looked at it, this was certainly a start. He felt a tension
release from his shoulders that he had not realized he held.

“Yes, it is a start,” he replied.

Frisha smiled again and looked down at her food. She
suddenly realized she was still gripping Rezkin’s hand and pulled it away
quickly in embarrassment. Rezkin slipped the small dagger in his other hand
back up his sleeve. He had pulled it when she first grabbed his hand, just in
case things turned violent.

The pair ate in silence for several minutes. Rezkin was a
little wary of eating the food since it was the first meal he had eaten that
was prepared by someone other than himself since he left the fortress. He
mentally went through the list of poisons and antidotes and reminded himself
where he had stored each in the pouch at his waist and his pack upstairs. All
of the other patrons were eating seemingly without concern, but he hardly
considered this to be evidence that it should not concern him as well.

“So,” said Frisha, breaking the silence, “are you staying
here, also, or just enjoying the meal?”

“I have a room,” the young man replied.

“We’re staying here, as well,” Frisha said as she took a
bite of buttered bread.

“We?” asked Rezkin.

“Oh, yes. Tam and me. Tam is another friend. He’s escorting
me in my great quest,” she said with a smirk. “Well,
I
am staying here,
I think. They only had one room left when we arrived, so Tam went to see if any
of the other inns had two rooms. He really doesn’t want to leave me alone in an
inn, which is understandable since he’s supposed to be my escort.”

“You cannot just share a room?” asked Rezkin. The rooms were
plenty big enough to fit several people if they did not mind sleeping on the
floor.

Frisha was aghast as her face turned bright red. “No! No, it
isn’t like that. He and I, we’re just friends. He’s my escort, nothing more.”

Rezkin was confused. If the man was her escort, then would
it not be prudent for him to stay as close as possible in case there was an
attack? He thought back to his cultural lessons and recalled that, in many
circles, it was inappropriate for a man and a woman to be left alone unless
they were closely related or had entered into a contract of marriage. With this
thought, he realized he had inadvertently offended the young woman.

“Forgive me,” he bowed, “I did not mean to offend you. I
thought perhaps he was your relative or husband since he is serving as your
escort,” Rezkin said in explanation.

The woman
did
look embarrassed, now, and she would
not look him in the eye. “Oh, no, you didn’t offend me. I just didn’t want you
to think that…well…that he and I…Anyway, no, we are not related, and I am not
married.” At this she glanced up into his eyes through thick lashes and then
looked away again. “He and I have been friends since we were born, and my
father trusts him. He has sworn an Oath of Protection for me, and he will honor
his word.”

“So, he is in service to your father as your protector?”
Rezkin said. Now, this made sense. It seemed Tam’s duty was also to protect his
friends
. He now felt more confident that he had met the right people.
They seemed to understand his duty better than he.

“Well, no,” she said, “not normally. He is the carpenter’s
apprentice, actually, but he wants to be a soldier. I have to go to Kaibain and
needed an escort. Tam convinced my father to let him take me so that he could
enlist in the army.”

Rezkin considered what he knew of craftsmen, which was not
much. He did not think that craftsmen such as carpenters typically trained in
the martial
Skills
. “So, this Tam, he is capable of protecting you? He
has weapons and combat training?”

The young woman shrugged, “Well, no, I don’t think so. He’s
never said that he did, and he doesn’t own a sword. We traveled to Justain from
Cheswick with a merchant caravan that had guards of its own. We had planned to
travel the rest of the way to Kaibain by riverboat, so we didn’t really think
there would be any problems. Really, I guess he’s just here to make sure
strange men don’t wander into my tent,” she said as her cheeks turned pink
again.

Rezkin held her in his steady gaze. He did not like to think
that someone would swear to protect another person when he knew he was
completely incapable of doing so. “And, if a strange man
did
wander into
your tent? What would this Tam do?” he asked.