You Don't Have to Listen If You Keep Talking

“Isn't that the man of the moment!” Gerner greeted me.

“Let's talk somewhere quieter. How about your room, Inomar?” Hern asked with a satisfied smile.

The three men’s expressions were at odds with one another. Gerner meant what he said, but Stooke seemed nervous, and their leader—he had become a different man. Before, all aloof, and now strangely enthusiastic.

“I'm not sure the owner wants to be associated with your cause.”

“Oh, Gospor won't mind!” Hern added.

“You know him?”

“Oh, Stooke knows almost every business owner in this city. Don’t worry.”

Worrisome.

We went up to my room. Without Carver. The boy was waiting downstairs and seemed to have taken a liking to Linzi, whom he was following around while she worked.

Gerner linked his arm through mine and treated me like an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time, boasting about how resilient the two of us were.

“We have another offer for you, brother!” Gerner started as I closed the door.

“What about the Golden and their brothel? The Blacks? The fire?”

“Oh, of course we will pay you for that,” Stooke answered.

Did they really care? What had happened?

“You are no longer interested in the salt and the steel?”

“Of course, we are! An informant has gathered some important information on this. And we want you to meet with him. After your successful battles against the Golden and Blacks, he specifically wanted to get to know you,” the spymaster explained.

Gerner seemed a little confused by the conversation.

“And please tell us, Inomar what have you uncovered?” Hern asked.

“Well, the Golden probably weren’t the recipients of the steel, but they have something much more terrifying up their sleeves.”

“What do you mean?” Gerner asked taken by surprise.

The other two men exchanged worried glances.

“A troll.”

“What?! Don’t be ridiculous, brother!” Gerner said laughing nervously.

“I crossed its path. The creature serves as some kind of intermediary between the Golden and one of their clients.”

“You…” Gerner started.

“That's very concerning, Inomar. Indeed. But I doubt we'll be able to do much about this. A troll is not to be trifled with. We should focus on more concrete leads.” Hern interjected.

“Yes, thanks to your actions, the Golden act like headless chicken. They've withdrawn from several wards, barricaded themselves in a few hideouts. We have to go after them now!” Stooke said.

They seemed so hasty. Did they really just want to finally take out that rival band?

“And I'm supposed to meet with this informant for that?”

“Yes, he knows where their true leaders are holed up.”

“Derwin and… a name starting with B it was, right?”

“Yes, Bermur. Already competing with Stooke I see!” Hern responded jokingly.

We laughed.

“Will I go alone?”

“You should travel as inconspicuously as possible. Especially now that you’re certainly no longer a stranger to the Golden. The girls from that leaping house probably told them all about you, Inomar.”

“And what happens afterward?”

“You’ll return to my workshop and we will plan our next move.”

“Take them out! All in one night…” Gerner mumbled all excited.

“When do I need to be where?”

“Well, now things are getting a little unpleasant. Very few cities have a sewer system. Strandburgh, however, is very well developed in that regard. All the filth is hidden from most people’s view.”

“And their noses, aye?” Gerner added with a wink.

“Really? So I'm supposed to wade through that crap?”

“There's an entrance. You go in there, meet our guy, and then leave that filth behind. But maybe don't wear your best clothes—it'll take days for the smell to go away.”

Stooke handed me bag full of coins. Like the last time we met.

“Same pay for the next job?”

“Promise.”

With that, I’d be able to focus on my own goals for a month or two. Stay out of the affairs of these self-titled king’s men. Assuming their leaders were telling the truth. Which, of course, they weren't.

“You still didn’t tell me the where and when.”

“Tomorrow. At the ring of the sun’s bells. Have you been to the Twins?”

“The Twins?”

“The oldest ward of Strandburgh, where the two castles stand guard.”

“Very briefly.”

“Husting Lane runs between these great works of stonemasonry, where the retainers of the Mareeve have their city residences. The street crosses two canals along its route. At the smaller of the two, take the stairs down to the water. Follow the canal toward the smaller castle. It's the one of the Bureeve. There you'll find an old wooden door that leads into the sewer system; just follow the path to the first intersection and wait there four our guy.”

“Understood.”

“Shouldn't I repeat it again?”

“Thank you, Stooke, but I got it. What about his name?”

"Name? Oh, right... he goes by Tamland."

"I guess that's all. Isn't it?"

“Seems like it is, Inomar. Anything else we can help you with? Anything we can provide?”

“No. I don't think so. I have all I need.”

Gerner gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder, and the three men went on their way.

I sat on the bed, pondering the things to come. Did Hern and Stooke expect me to see right through their lies and still follow through with their plan? I had to laugh.

There was a knock at the door, and before I could say anything, Carver walked in.

“What did they tell you, Ino?”

“Didn't they tell you anything?”

“No. Since the visit of the lady Hern, Stooke and the Master are acting strangely.”

“The lady? You mean my witch?”

“Ugh, not that scarred hag. The three were entertaining a really beautiful woman. Probably an important one. After I left here the night before last, Hern and the others made me wait forever, talking to her.”

“Do you know her name? What did she look like?”

“No name. Same hair color as you, eye color also. Quite tall for a woman, petite but not skinny, with a narrow face and a bitter expression. The meeting probably wasn’t to her liking.”

“Did the three ask you anything about the job at the whorehouse?”

“Not really. I told them what I witnessed from outside and how it ended. They didn’t seem to really care, but they praised me—and your work—highly.”

“Thank you, Carver.”

“What does all of this mean, Ino?”

“You should stay away from the Churls for four or five days. Do you have enough coins to get by until then?”

“Yes… but why?!”

“Do you trust them?”

“Yes?”

Do you trust me?”

“Yes?”

“You've known them for quite a while longer than you've known me, haven't you?”

“Yes?”

“So, if in doubt, you'd take their side.”

“No!”

“So you’d take mine?”

“Depends?”

“On what?”

“Why are you asking me this? What is happening?”

“It could be that after tomorrow the Churls and I won’t be on the best of terms any longer. I can never forgive betrayal. Do you understand that?”

“I do.”

“Good. I don't wish for you to take a side. Just don't stand against me.”

“So you, like them, won't talk to me properly? To a child?”

“To someone I would like to call a friend.”

“Doesn’t feel that way.”

“There's nothing I can do about this feeling in this moment.”

“I see.”

Carver looked at me angrily. We were silent for what seemed like a long time. Then the boy held out his open right hand to me, as if he were expecting me to give him something.

“Your sword.”

“Huh?”

“Let me take care of it.”

A sense of relief washed over me. But then the opposite once again. What would they do about that boy? What did betrayal mean to them? That ugly word.

Fate favored me. It would always do so in the end. But the same hadn't been true for the ones I had cared about.