Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (53 page)

“He’s the one in the gray cloak, over
there,” Fats said, gesturing with his shoulder, he was afraid of
pointing directly at the stranger.

The Sergeant hitched up his sagging pants
and swaggered over to the booth where the stranger sat. His two
corporals flanked him on either side.

“I hear you want
te
join up, in which case I’m the man te see,” Sergeant
Herms said, pointing at his chest with his right thumb.

The cloaked man’s steely eyes slowly tracked
up the girth of the Sergeant, then flicked to either side, taking
in the two accompanying corporals, before returning to look into
Herm’s face.

The Sergeant sucked in some of his gut as he
was measured and found wanting by the cloaked man.

“Yes,” the stranger said conversationally,
“I’m interested in joining the Tchulian army, but not as an
infantry foot soldier, I'm thinking of becoming an officer.”

“An officer?” Herms smiled and looked at the
corporal on his left, nudging him with his elbow, “He wants
te
be an ‘Officer’” he said,
chuckling. “What makes you think you can afford Tchulian officer’s
schooling,
Kesera
.” the Sergeant
finished, calling him a small desert rodent.

In
reply,
the stranger said, “Why should I prove anything to you, have you
even been to the Keep?” He nodded his head in the direction of the
fortress on top of the nearby hill.

“
Of course
I have. I know the right people to talk to, if you had the round,
which you don’t,” he responded, puffing his chest out even
further.

“You’re right, I don’t have the round,” the
stranger began.

“You see boys, a Kesera, like I said,” the
Sergeant interjected.

“But I have this,” the stranger continued,
spinning a red stone out onto the tabletop. It spun so fast at
first that the sergeant could only see it was red, and then it
slowed and stopped showing its faceted sides. It was a ruby, half
the size of a small flutter’s egg.

The sergeant and both corporals’ eyes bulged
at the sight of the stone. It was worth more than their combined
pay for three years.

The sergeant recovered
first
and elbowed his men back into reality.
“So, that’s all? Hardly enough to get you in the door, I hope you
have more,” and the corporals behind the sergeant looked at him as
if he were crazy.

“You and I both know this is more than
enough to get me in, but yes, I do have more.”

The corporals transferred their incredulous
looks from their sergeant to the stranger.

Sergeant Herms sat down at the booth
opposite the
gray-eyed
man. The
two corporals boxed the stranger in, one sitting next to the
sergeant and the other next to the
gray-cloaked
man.

He didn’t look perturbed.

The sergeant snapped his fingers above his
head and one of the waitresses came over immediately. Herms kept
looking at the stranger, but spoke to the waitress, “Bring
ale.”

When the waitress was off fetching the
drinks the sergeant addressed the stranger. “So you fancy
yerself
a tough
un
?
Well,
I
don’t think
ye’re
tough enough for
the Tchulians. Think you can prove me wrong?”

“I’m still here,” the stranger replied.

The mugs of ale arrived and the stranger
picked one up and drained it to the last drop in one pull, slamming
it to the top of the table and looking at the sergeant
expectantly.

Herms picked his up and emptied it as well.
“Six more, he barked at the waitress who was still standing at the
end of the table. While she was gone Herms picked up the other two
mugs that had been for his corporals and set one in front of the
stranger, “To the Tchulian army!” he toasted and drank the
remaining mug of ale in one pull.

The stranger picked up his new mug, never
taking his eyes off the Sergeant. “To the
keseras
,” he answered and downed his as well.

“Didn’t like my toast hey?” the sergeant
said.

“I’m not a Tchulian, yet,” the man
responded.

The waitress came back with the additional
mugs of ale.

“Then let’s find something we can toast
together!” He picked up another mug, “To women, long may they
satisfy!” After his toast he waited for the stranger, mug
raised.

The cloaked man raised a full mug as well
and added, “To women,” and then he downed the entire mug of dark
potent ale.

The sergeant followed suit, gulping heavily.
Then he picked up another mug of the oily, alcoholic beverage.

“I’ll continue to drink with you in a
moment, but
first,
I’m going to
have to shake my Kesera,” the stranger explained.

“Fine, fine, I’m sure the corporal here has
to go too, don’t you?” the sergeant suggested heavily to the
corporal seated on his side.

“Uh yes, I do have to go,” the corporal
said, after catching the sergeant’s elbow in his side.

The stranger and the corporal got up and
went out the front together. As they walked away the stranger
bumped into a table slightly, losing his balance. The sergeant
smiled when he saw it happen.

“What are you doing, Sarge?” the remaining
corporal said as soon as the stranger was out of hearing.

“I’m drinking the bastard onto the floor,
and then we’ll relieve him o’ that bauble and anything else he has
on him. Then we’ll enroll him in the ranks o’ new recruits. Don’t
worry, you’ll get yer cut, ten percent,” the sergeant promised.

“What happens if he isn’t getting drunker
than you?” the corporal asked.

“What, that wimp out sauce me, he’s too
skinny. Besides, you two can handle him once I get him drunk
enough. Then he can wake from his blissful slumber in his dream
come true, a recruit ‘o the Tchulian army,” the sergeant finished,
chuckling.

Outside the stranger and the corporal found
some bushes to the side of the building, the stranger went behind
them, but the corporal wasn’t worried, there was no other exit from
the corner of the building, so the man had to come past him on the
way back out.

He could hear the man going and after a
moment,
the gray cloaked stranger
returned. Together they went back
into
the Tavern.

“All right sergeant, where were we?” the
gray-eyed
man said when he was
seated again.

“We
was
just toast’in the women, now we are toast’in the maker ‘o this ale,
may he learn te do better soon!” the sergeant said with a grin,
they drank the mugs down together.

When the sergeant set his mug down the room
swayed just a little, he knew the
ale
was starting to have an effect. He looked at the
smaller man across from him and thought,
By now he must be
getting seriously skewered.

When they picked up the last of the eight
mugs of ale the sergeant noted that the stranger had a little
trouble finding the handle on his mug.

“To round
mmmmmmetal
, may
oooou
alwaysh
find
sumb
,” the stranger said, his words slurring in
the unwritten drunk’s language.

They drank the large mugs of thick liquid
together, then the stranger bent at the waist and collapsed on the
table while saying, “
Wheresh
alllll
the
weeeemon
?” His head landed with a ‘thunk’ on the rough
wood table.

The sergeant, not feeling all that steady
himself, prodded the stranger with his finger. “Out, like an old
whore.
Well,
pick him up, you
fools, it’s time for our newest recruit to go to his new home.”

The sergeant and corporals got to their
feet. The sergeant swayed back and forth a
little
but managed to steady himself on the side of the
table until the world settled down. The two corporals supported the
semi-unconscious stranger by putting one of his arms over each of
their shoulders and walking him out the door.

When they reached the street they walked him
toward the edge of town. As they neared the last building on the
main street of Headwater a man stepped out in front of them. He
wore finely made light armor and sported a polished, but lethal
looking sword in his hand.

“Excuse me,” he said in a cultured accent,
“will you explain where you’re going with my friend?”

“Yer friend?” the sergeant asked.

“Yes and your explanation better be good,”
he cautioned.

“I’m not sure what
ye’re talk
’in about,” the sergeant replied as he gestured
with his hand for the corporals to come closer.

They dropped their unconscious burden on the
ground and stepped up beside their sergeant while drawing their
swords.

Sergeant Herms felt better once his armed
men were ready to defend him and he said, “You see he volunteered
te join the Tchulian infantry.
He is now
a recruit and recruits are not allowed te wander the town, so move
aside, or are you think’in of volunteer’in as well?” the sergeant
asked.

“Since when did I volunteer?” said a voice
out of the dark, and the
gray-eyed
stranger from the tavern stepped from behind the building, holding
two drawn swords. They three soldiers stared as if a ghost had
joined the party before turning to look where they’d just left the
same man lying in the dirt only a moment ago.

When they turned they saw that man standing
behind them just as he caught the sword his identical twin brother
tossed to him over the soldier’s heads.

“There are two of them!” a corporal
yelled.

“Get them!” the drunken sergeant
commanded.

Each corporal took on a twin, and the
sergeant pulled out his sword to attack Becaris.

Becaris did not use his blade; he just let
the sergeant blunder in and then hit him over the head with his
hilt. The drunken sergeant dropped to the ground like a stone,
unconscious.

When Becaris looked up to see how Lasar and
Rasal were doing he saw that both Tchulian corporals were dead. The
brothers stood over them and were not even breathing hard.

“Quickly, before anyone sees, arrange them
so that it looks like they killed each other, and then help me
carry this hulking sergeant to the horses. Is the
ale
affecting either of you two?” Becaris
asked.

“You must be joking, a few mugs of ale each?
We were born and raised in a tavern, either of us could have drunk
him under the table, but with two of us it was simple,” Lasar
answered with a smirk.

Sergeant Herms awoke the next morning tied
to a gnarled old tree trunk out in the desert. For the life of
him,
he could not remember how he
got in this predicament. The last thing he remembered was drinking
with the stranger at the Butchered Lamb.

He heard the crunch of sand on boots as
someone approached from behind. His first thought was that his
corporals had betrayed him for the ruby, it was feasible; he would
have killed them for it without regret.

Herms called out, “All right, I get the
picture, I’ll give you each
one-third
o’ the sell’in price, now let me loose.”

“I’m afraid we’re not interested in round,
Sergeant Herms,” a voice with a noble’s accent said from
behind.

Becaris stepped around in front of his
captive.

“Who are you?” the frightened Tchulian
gasped.

“That’s of no consequence to you. What you
should be concerned with is helping me out, that way both of us
will get what we want. I need information about the Tchulian keep
above Headwater and you need to survive; it’s funny how the two are
tied together. It seems we can be mutually beneficial to one
another,” Becaris said, taking a drink from a
waterskin
.

The hot sun was already heating up the sand
of the desert, and the sergeant’s mouth was dry. Watching Becaris
drink focused the sergeant’s thoughts on the dryness of his mouth.
He licked his lips and tried to get some moisture working.

“What do you want
te
know?” he asked, not thinking of resisting for a
moment.

“Tell me the layout; I need to find a
prisoner named G’Taklar who’s locked up, possibly being tortured.
I’ll also need to know how many soldiers there are, the names of
the officers, passwords, entry routines, you know, everything,”
Becaris finished, cleaning the dirt from under his nails with a
sharp dagger.

The sergeant began telling him everything he
wanted to know about the keep, but he never mentioned G’Taklar
since he knew him only as the new recruit named Guitar.

G’Taklar found the stable where Rachael had
told him they would meet. His escape from the compound had been
easy, just a wave of his hand at the bored guard, the corporal’s
hat was as far as the tired guard’s eyes had bothered to look and
the dark shadows of night had kept his face from being seen.

He opened the large swinging door of the
wooden barn and stepped inside. Beams of light from the morning sun
sliced through the misaligned vertical boards of the walls to cut
knife edged slices of golden sunlight across the straw covered
floor.

Stalls holding horses lined the walls to the
left and right with saddles and other trappings hanging on wood
pegs. G’Taklar looked up toward the loft in time to see Rachael’s
head pop up out of the straw.

The young girl lowered a wrapped up bundle
down to him and then descended the wooden ladder.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she exclaimed.
“The longer I waited the more I imagined things that could’ve gone
wrong. I was so afraid. Fats has had the soldiers looking for me,
they’ve searched this stable twice now. I’ve only managed to avoid
them by slipping out a loose board in the back and hiding across
the street until they were gone."