The Summer of the Swordsman

Chapter IX

FIGHTING FIRES

So we fought fires on and off for a week or two, and I began to enjoy my first taste of the lordly life in several years. I had been quartered with Magistrate Joris, who turned out to be a very congenial host. He placed his extensive library at my disposal when he heard that I was learning to read. Anakreon, of course, was housed at the palace of Prince Esrik, as were Quinquius and Mourner, by specific invitation of the Prince. Sored remained with the troop as officer in charge.

I suppose I might have felt left out because I wasn't included, since I was considered the second‑in‑command, but in fact my general feeling was one of relief. I might find the lordly life pleasant, but I wasn't sure how I'd view the regal life. An upbringing in a weaver's cottage in Hellas isn't the best preparation for that. Besides, I had met Esrik's Princess, the Lady Sieglinde, as haughty, high‑nosed and spoiled a bitch as ever trod marble floors. I considered myself well advised to give her a wide berth, and that's what I did during my months there.

We policed the streets and the rate of crime seemed to fall while we performed our duties. I wonder if maybe we weren't too efficient, looking at it in retrospect. We made the Magistrates' council seem lax, but that didn't concern us at the time. We were hired to do a job, and we were doing it well, for all that we weren't to be paid until the fire‑fighting troop was ready to take over in another four months. But I think our efficiency touched the Esluvians' pride, and we were treated with a sort of suppressed patronage, as though the citizens of that cosmopolitan city expected us to commit some terrible social error sooner or later that would confirm their original opinion of us.

Our periodic reports from Praecas and Setnakht at Blogg were heartening. The people there liked the troop very much, and they were having a merry time. The Count was considering extending the contract through to the fall, and Anakreon was willing to negotiate for that at a reduced rate, to insure good will. It pays to have satisfied patrons in this business. It was while things were at this comfortable stage that the envoy from Garius arrived with the gold.

** ** **  

I didn't hear of the matter until I met Anakreon for a rare supper at one of my favorite inns, but I had heard enough by the time supper was finished. Garius had listened to our terms, two‑thirds of the price in advance, in gold. He hadn't turned a hair, but instead had the gold counted, sewn into sacks, and sent back to us with a contract. Sixty‑six gold sestrians multiplied by one hundred and twenty days, the length of the contract. We were to inspect the gold and the contract at our leisure, sign if we wanted to, and send the contract back. We could also bring the contract with us to Hirstad and discuss terms with Garius, if we wished to negotiate. The messenger would wait as long as we wished.

Anakreon told me all this over a plate of beef and fried potatoes at one of Eslu's better inns, and then he sat back, took a pull at his tankard of ale, and said, "I think I may accept after all."

I choked on my mouthful of potatoes, drained my tankard, automatically motioned for a refill, and said, "What the hell did you just say?"

Anakreon's crystal eye glinted in the torchlight. "I said I was thinking of accepting after all. Don't glower at me, Oristides. People are beginning to stare at you, and you know you hate scenes. Drink some more ale and calm down."

Actually, I think he was hoping for a scene. He wanted me get the wrath out of my system before he faced the troop with the news. He smiled his blandest smile and pushed the tankard forward.

At this point I was willing to oblige with the scene. "You must be joking!"

"I am not," Anakreon said, folding his arms and sitting back, the glint still in his eye.