Shadowblade (9 page)

C H A P T E R

4

Powyss.

Zach spent a good deal of time in the
Fighting Hens Inn
attempting to learn the extent of
Morloth’s
powers and waiting to see if anyone else decided to try murdering him in his sleep. But he did not learn much that he had not already known in those first few days and encountered no assassins; so decided he would venture out and explore the city. Zach spent the morning walking the streets of the Port of Powyss and otherwise enjoying himself immensely. In the port area, Zach found there were shops and restaurants and inns and brothels and even traveling shows. At one point he thought he saw the familiar form of Bart, the bard, and the other companions he had been traveling with before they were all drawn to their doom at Castle Tyrannus. Zach drifted through the crowd toward the swiftly moving form but lost him in the crowds. The light snow that drifted down in flurries also hindered his sight. Once he even thought he heard the sing-song accent of the Ayresman, but found only a grumbling captain of a fishing vessel bound for Obyn, muttering about stingy fares.

He suspected his mind was playing tricks on him, then. It was very unlikely that his companions escaped from the lands of the Black Baron alive. He felt a slight stirring of guilt then, but quickly squashed it with the knowledge that he survived. Considering that it was far more likely someone else would try to kill him, the person he had been following may well have been someone paid to lead Zach into a trap. He decided it might not be a bad idea to create a little confusion among any who might be trying to track him, and knew just the sort of place to start.

Brothels were a highly regarded source of information for those in the business of collecting it, visiting a brothel might prove a good way to spread disinformation.

The port area seemed to be the least affected by the roving patrols of Red Dragons. Zach wondered about that phenomenon. It was unheard of in his many years of traveling that a monarch would employ mercenaries, cutthroats at that, to protect the citizens instead of his own soldiers or constables. While the Red Dragons had proved to be effective in their dispensation of justice, they were certainly not liked by the people of Powyss.

The port area was not unlike its counterpart in Dockyard City, except that the street that paralleled the coastline and the docks was made of stone. The great wooden piers and dockways ran out over the water to his right. Great ships and small boats were docked in various places, the waters of the Port of Powyss were very deep and capable docking great ships. Sailors scurried among the riggings of ships and along the piers and harbor masters walked the docks collecting taxes from those using the port to unload goods or passengers. Gulls and pelicans squawked in great numbers, hovering above a fishing boat as it returned from sea, diving down to catch scraps of fish guts as they were thrown over the side. A giant osprey sat atop a light pole, staring about regally as though he alone were permitting the rest of the world to entertain him. A chill wind blew in from the sea, ruffling the feathers of the regal bird which was apparently immune to the cold.

Zach was not immune to the cold, however, and pulled his coat tighter about him. He needed to buy some warmer clothes, the dead of winter was approaching and he knew that despite his desire to remain in Powyss he might eventually have to trek farther north to the Everpool.

On the left side of the main street were the shops and business that made Powyss thrive. Many of the shops were connected, sharing a common building. Some buildings were separated by tiny alleyways that could barely accommodate a waif, yet others were large enough to be a viable escape from trouble occurring on the main road. He certainly hoped that such trouble would not find him before he had a chance to scout the alleyways and see where they led. It was folly to run down an unexplored alleyway when fleeing from trouble and he vowed to himself that he would undertake a thorough exploration of all the alleyways and hidden routes of the Port of Powyss.

“The greater folly would be to face a danger you cannot conquer in the first place,” came the unwanted opinion of the invisible voice. Zach allowed his usual stoic countenance to engage in a great sneer. The voice seemed to have a habit of intruding on his thoughts of late, offering unwanted opinions. It was a habit that Zach was finding more and more detestable, possibly because the voice often made excellent points.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he growled.

“I
am
your opinion!” returned the voice. A few passersby gave him strange looks and one made an age old sign to ward off evil as he passed Zach. Zach shook his head and returned to his semi-private musings.

There were smithy’s and fishmongers and bakers and excellent aromas drifting out onto the road. Even though he wasn’t hungry, Zach couldn’t help but stop at a traditional Cklathish bakery for some warm sweet bread. It felt really good to go into a warm bakery after being out in the brisk wind and he dreaded going back out. But Zach had some work to do to throw off any who might be looking for him. He thought of the Spiders then, and wondered if they would begin to suspect treachery on his part and send assassins to kill him. It was certainly too soon for that, but he knew such a time may come. He began to wonder if he was truly far enough away from his past.

As he stepped out into the cold and made his way back toward his inn, Zach’s attention was drawn to a building painted in bright pastel pink and sea-foam green, stark against the dull browns and greens of its neighboring businesses. It was tall, nearly four stories, easily the tallest building on the waterfront. It may have been bright pink at one time, he observed, but its paint was now warn and faded. Still, the garish appearance had the desired effect and Zach knew without asking this place was indeed a brothel.

A sign depicting a beautiful and somewhat faded maiden bearing a very lifelike bosom dangled above the door on rusty chains, swinging in the cool breeze of early afternoon.

The Siren’s Call.

“A good place to start,” he mused aloud. He paused a moment, to see if the voice would have a comment for him, but none came and so he went inside. He had been very obvious when he made his entrance and stood in the doorway a moment, allowing the cool air to further cool the ladies who waited inside. After an angry shout from the scantily clad woman behind the bar, he closed the door and entered the brothel.

Inside it was warm and inviting despite the chill of the day which he had intentionally allowed the occupants to feel. The waiting room was large and furnished with comfortable looking couches and chairs situated around a hearth that was blazing at the moment. There was a long bar also and several men sat drinking, presumably awaiting their turn to pass through the double doors at the far end of the room.

Zach took a seat at the bar and asked for a bottle of rum, placing a pair of Imperial gold crowns on the counter. The barmaid, hearing the sound of coins on the table, immediately attended to Zach.

“Right away, sir!’ she said with a sly smile, her ample cleavage visible above a nearly see-through shift. She returned a moment later with a bottle of rum, the label indicating it had come from the Hother Islands. ”Visiting our lovely town, are you?“

“Yes,” he said, feigning sadness. Then he extended his hand and said, “I’m Levius of Western Vola, but my friends call me Levi.”

“I’m Siren,” she purred with a very fake smile. “Nice to meet you,
Levi
.
Tell me all about your trip.”

And so Zach wove a rich tale about being an Arnathian lord from the province of Western Vola whose passenger ship had been waylaid by pirates and he ended up in Powyss to await transport back to the empire’s main city. The barmaid pretended to be impressed and listened patiently while Zach told his story. He told her he was staying in room “5-F” of the
Royal Best
, a higher priced inn near the
Fighting Hens
, and casually asked if her staff made “outcalls” at other inns. She nodded and offered Zach his choice of “services” but he declined, casually slipping an Imperial Crown on the counter. It was then that Siren seemed to understand that Zach was telling her all this for a very different reason.

“Who runs these gods-awful ports anyway?” he asked dramatically, as though the question were rhetorical. Even so, he palmed another crown on the counter and the barmaid deftly covered it over with a bar towel and made it disappear. “They ought to be fired!”

“The Red Dragons run everything in Powyss,” she said pointedly not being disrespectful. “They are the keepers of the Rhi’s peace and they do a fine job.”

“They run
everything
?”

“Aye, even the Lord Mayor is one of them,” she said. “They come in here often enough too, if you take my meaning.”

Zach took her meaning well enough; the Red Dragons frequented the
Call
to collect taxes and obtain information about the goings on of Powyss. Which also meant that the Dragons could enter the
Call
at any moment. Judging by her expression, the Dragons probably insisted on sampling the wares free of charge and were not well liked by the staff. And that made this a place he should return to for his own information collection, as long as his money was better than everyone else’s.

“Don’t trust her. She’s a snitch, Zach!” whispered the voice, very low, as though not wanting to be heard. That surprised Zach, because he had begun to think that no one else could hear the voice.

“What did you say, Levi?” said the barmaid from the other end of the bar, as she took an “order” from another patron.

She heard it!
he panicked.

“Uh, I said this weather is too cold for a witch!” the woman seemed to accept that she hadn’t heard him properly and nodded her agreement. Deciding he had better leave before that voice got him into more trouble, Zach dropped a few gold coins on the counter and put his coat on to leave. The barmaid swooped down on the counter and snatched up the coins before anyone else could do so. He smiled at the woman and said, “Share those with the girls, please.”

“We are a very discreet group, you know,” she said, reaching across the counter to grasp Zach’s arm. “Come back anytime you like. No one will know you are here.” Zach immediately understood what the woman was telling him; it seemed his gold was indeed better than those who paid her to tattle. That was one good thing about using Arnathian gold, it had a reputation for purity that other petty kingdoms could not match.

“Miss,” he said, leaning close, “I would very much like for you
not
to be discreet about me and where I stay,” he said, handing her another crown. She smiled and nodded and let go of his arm.

While Zach emerged from
The Siren’s Call,
a few Imperial crowns poorer, he was satisfied that he had planted the seed well. He hoped that if Siren told anyone of his whereabouts he would learn very quickly who they were and why they were after him. So, he resolved to continue his exploration of the Port of Powyss while his seed grew, and then he would visit the common room of the
Royal Best
and listen for news of the pour soul staying in room “5-F.”

Three days had passed in Port of Powyss while Zach learned the layout of the streets and a little of those who held power, besides the Red Dragons. Zach was pleased to learn that nothing untoward had befallen the occupant of room “5-F” at the
Royal Best.
That told him that the barmaid at
The Siren’s Call
could be trusted, to an extent. Although no one else had tried to find him in his own room, he almost wished someone had; he was in a mood for murder.