Death's Sword Book 1: Finding and Seeking

Chapter 12, part 3: Day 17 continued

It was a small market town, at the junction of two rivers, with a small castle on a low rise overlooking the rest of the buildings. A foul smoky haze hung over the scattered houses, taverns and many, many warehouses. Kleymin could see more brown smoke crawling lazily upwards from two tall chimneys on the outskirts of the town next to one of the rivers. Kleymin had seen nothing like them before and stared, round-eyed, amazed that people would tolerate anything so clearly poisonous even on the fringes of their town. Small boats were scudding downstream or moving slowly against the flow. The boats coming down the rivers were laden with cargoes of orange-stained rocks, those returning to the hills were covered over with tarps and sheeting.

"Mostly kjava, some trade goods, some sake, a lot of limestone, going up-river," said Burrowwold, seeing the unspoken question in the boys' eyes, "Iron ore, coming from the Iron Mountains, going down and east. Welcome to Merkheim."

"What about the smoke?" asked the young nukenin, "Why is that allowed?" The gnome snorted at the boy's ignorance. "Smelters," he stated, "Producing their own steel makes this place rich." Kleymin looked around; if this town was wealthy, that wealth was well hidden, he thought. Burrowwold tugged at his beard with his left hand, glancing around with his dark beady eyes. "Market's held the day after tomorrow. I don't want to be here then," he said. Kleymin frowned at this.

"Too many visitors," explained the girl, helpfully, "Some may remember my companion and the goods he sold them from when last we passed this way. After we left, rather abruptly, some people found that the things they'd bought hadn't belonged to him as sold them." Burrowwold chuckled evilly, wrinkling his long nose,

"Made fifty-seven bu profit," he said, proudly.

"All long since spent on food, drink and foolishness," added Tania, smiling sweetly. Burrowwold sniffed, loudly, "It was my money, to spend as I saw fit. I earned it, I spent it. No sense hoarding it when you live on the road. Some thieving ronin will only try and part you from your silver first chance he gets. Or a light-fingered doxy in some tavern." The boy pulled a face at this reference.

"A doxy?" he said, "What's that? Some special kind of thief?" The gnome opened his mouth to say something, then saw the look Tania was giving him. He cleared his throat instead. "Some other time," he said, eventually.

They decided to stop at the second inn they found. Burrowwold stalked in to haggle over prices whilst the other two travellers stabled the dorvei. When Tania and Kleymin entered the inn, Burrowwold gave the girl a loaded sack. "Get a good price for that little lot, girly, then fix us up with some supplies. You know what I need," he growled. Tania's face lit up. This was something she obviously relished. "Sure, Burrowwold. I won't speak to any strange men, either," she grinned, cheekily, before walking out, a jaunty spring in her step. The sack she slung over one shoulder, bulging and clinking as she moved.

"That's got rid of her," said the gnome, brusquely, "Now for a drink and that talk, young man. Innkeeper! Two bowls of beer and a fish soup." Burrowwold led the way to a corner table, well away from the other patrons in the sparsely populated main room. Kleymin looked around. It was a large room, perhaps twenty metres square, with numerous alcoves around the walls. It was a strongly constructed building, with wattle and daub walls. Burrowwold will suffer serious injury if he gets hurled through one of these walls, thought the boy, suppressing a smile.

They made their way to a table in the back of the room, both making sure that their chairs faced each other and had a good portion of wall behind them. There were five men in the room, apart from the innkeeper. All looked to be travellers. Outside, dusk was falling; other wayfarers would be ending their journeys in the next couple of hours. Even so, the inn would have few guests. Fewer ears to pry on their conversation, that's good, thought Kleymin.

The innkeeper. a skinny, worried-looking man with a greasy leather apron, hurried over to them. He carried a wooden tray with two bowls of beer and one of hot, smelly, fish soup. These were dumped unceremoniously on the table, then the man stood there, dithering, as though he could not make up his mind about something. "Well?" growled the gnome, glowering at the innkeep and expecting to be asked to pay immediately. "Your pardon, h-honoured guests," stammered the skinny human, "b-but there was a m-man in earlier asking if a boy and a young girl had passed this way. The boy he described could have been this one." Kleymin felt his blood run cold. Burrowwold glanced swiftly at him, then back to the innkeeper. "What did he look like, this fellow asking the questions?" he demanded.

"I don't know, esteemed sir, for I could not see his face. He was hooded and cloaked, and spoke in a strange whisper," whined the innkeeper, wringing his hands. "He was a hunch-back, though, which I thought was strange. I'd never seen a hunch-backed samurai before."

"A samurai?" snapped the gnome, sharply, "How did you know he was a samurai?" The man shrugged. "He carried a costly katana at his side, noble guest, with a toko-na pushed through his waist-band. He wore fine mail armour, even though he was within the town limits," answered the innkeeper, still wringing his hands.

"I thank you for your warning, honourable host," replied Burrowwold, bowing gravely from his seat, "You may depart now, if you have no further information. You will be rewarded well before we leave in the morning." The innkeeper bobbed a series of pleased bows, shuffling away backwards, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Take our money then sell out to this hunch-back as soon as he can," muttered the gnome to Kleymin as he watched the man depart. Then, turning fully to Kleymin, Borrowwold fixed the boy with a steely glare. "Do you know who he was talking about?" The boy shook his head, finding himself unable to speak. "Alright, let's take this easy, now," sighed the gnome, more gently, "I think I've earned the right to know. Just what are you involved in?"

Kleymin drew in a deep breath, then started to tell him. He had reached the point where, having fled the klchzak and ninja both into the caves, he had found the sword and met Vrakschtek when the gnome, horrified, waved him to stop, "No, no, no, don't tell me any more, I don't want to know. I don't want to know." He paused and dragged in a deep breath. "Take my advice and don't mention this to anyone," said the gnome. "Especially not that flighty slip of a girl. She'd only tell the next person she wanted to impress. Oh, aye, and to think I wanted an adventure!" He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and sat examining the cobwebs there for a few moments.

"There is more you must know," said Kleymin, quietly, reluctantly, "The sword seems to tell me when there is magic about aimed at me. I felt it when you were dealing with those samurai." He looked hard at the gnome as he said this, watching to see what the effect of his words would be. Burrowwold sat back in his seat, staring hard at the boy, clearly weighing up whether this was too much adventure for him or not.

Having thought about it for a while, he seemed to come to a conclusion, "So, no clues as to who this hunch-back is, eh?" The boy shook his head vigorously. "Well, I've got some ideas, if he was also the one casting the spells earlier today. Let's get some more food inside us, grab an early night, then set out at firstlight. I want us to be ready and waiting by the gates when they open at nightsend."

Just then, Tania came in, looking very pleased with herself. She had her mousy hair tied in bunches with some new green velvet ribbons. Burrowwold affected not to notice. "Well, what did you get?" he asked, impatiently. The girl rattled off a long list of provisions, ending with, "...two dozen smoked haizu-fish, a skin of beer and .. this!" She handed the gnome a package triumphantly. Burrowwold started stripping off the sacking immediately. "I wonder what this might be?" he said, "Ahhhh! Good girl!" he exclaimed, as he slid the kodachi free of its scabbard. He turned the blade to catch the fading light, watching the hammer patterns in the steel critically. "He wanted thirty-five bu for it. I got it for nineteen," said the girl, watching the gnome anxiously. He crowed with pleasure,"Ah, what a treasure you are. You'll make the best merchant-thief in the borderlands yet. This calls for a celebration. Innkeeper! Three beers - and more fish soup!" Burrowwold then turned to the girl, laying the weapon down to one side. "I assume you've got enough money left to pay?" he enquired, innocently.