El-Vador's Travels (23 page)

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Authors: J. R. Karlsson

BOOK: El-Vador's Travels
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They
were interrupted by a small figure who crossed their path and would
not let them pass without engaging him.

'What
are you?' the boy asked, fiddling with the torn rags that just barely
covered his decency.

El-Vador
stared back at him, uncertain of how to proceed. 'What am I?'

The
boy nodded, as if his question were the most natural thing in the
world. 'You look different from the others, you are pale and have
strange ears and eyes, I don't like them.'

He
forced a semblance of calm upon himself, only now realising how
rattled the crowds had made him. 'I am an Elf from the mountains in
the north, not many of my people venture down here.'

Eihblin
stepped forward, clearly not in the mood for such petty distractions.
'We are looking for a man, perhaps you have seen him?'

She
described Anacletus, but the boy shook his head. 'Can't say I've seen
him.' Then he turned back to El-Vador once more. 'Why do you look all
pointy?'

'It's
a terrible curse laid on me for asking too many questions when I was
a boy,' El-Vador said. 'You don't want to end up looking like me, do
you?'

The
child looked at his El-Vador's ears sceptically and then shook his
head.

'Keeping
your mouth shut is the first sensible thing you've done.'

The
clink of a coin purse immediately drew the boy's attention back to
Eihblin, who reached into her pouch and brandished a single copper
coin. She flipped it at the boy, who caught it deftly.

'If
you see this man, come and find us, there will be more coppers for
you if you can bring us to him.'

The
boy's eyes lit up at the thought of more money. 'I shall go and look
instantly mam!'

'Wait
just a minute,' Phaedra interrupted. 'How many ways are there out of
this city?'

The
boy looked at her and caught sight of her face under the cloak, his
eyes widened and he dashed off without answering.

'It
would appear that the boy saw something he didn't like,' Eihblin
quipped. 'Let us hope our copper proves more profitable than another
that would loosen his tongue with money to hear of your whereabouts.'

They
both knew that she was talking about Sarvacts, his fortress wasn't
far from this place and he could well exert some degree of influence
for all they knew. They would need to tread carefully from here on in
so as not to arouse any further suspicion. Come the morning, they
would attempt to depart the city and make their way to the fortress,
El-Vador felt trepidation grow once more in the pit of his stomach.
He had no idea how they were going to gain access to such a
structure, let alone what manner of beasts that would await them
inside.

XX

My early years were so fraught with uncertainty and fear, yet
never had I an opportunity to express these things. Bottled up inside
they remained, either for the benefit of those travelling with me or
so that an enemy could not leverage them against me.

Had I known then what I do now, the fortress would have been torn
apart by its roots and hurled across the mountainside. Such flights
of fantasy and grandeur are ill-becoming when gazing back at the
past.

'
I
see an inn ahead of us,' Phaedra said.

El-Vador
stared into the darkness. His Elven eyes were unusually sharp even
for his kind, yet they failed to see any inn through the moonlit
night.

He
felt more than saw the woman smiling next to him, more than a hint of
irritation rose within him at that.

She
led them down the narrow street, and before long they came to the
inn, a large stone building much like any other he had seen in the
city, except for the sign hung over the portal. It was an unpainted
wooden plank that had the effigy of a snake burned into it. It wasn't
the first time he had seen such symbolism since arriving here. The
language beneath it was foreign to him, only reinforcing how out of
place he felt in this strange land.

El-Vador
dismissed the subject from his thoughts, now was not the time to be
concerned over his own sense of alienation. He had to remain alert
and getting distracted by scenery wasn't going to aid his attempts at
doing so.

'It
would be fateful indeed if Anacletus was staying in this very inn,'
Eihblin mused. 'I have seen no signs of him since entering the city.'

El-Vador
shrugged. 'Whether he is inside or not, we must find a place to rest.
I do not trust to camp out in these streets.'

A
number of heavy-looking lanterns hung from the rafters of the inn,
tinting everything with a yellow hue. A small crowd of customers were
present but nothing compared to the rush of the main street mere
hours ago.

Phaedra
moved to a table near the fire, Eihblin and El-Vador following. The
room's occupants didn't offer them a glance and for that the Elf was
thankful.

The
innkeeper motioned to their table and a server soon approached them,
apparently business was slow.

'A
pitcher of water.' El-Vador said, 'what food have you?'

'We're
not due any new stock until the week's end,' the server said, paying
no heed to the appearances of those at the table. Apparently the
establishment didn't care so long as you had coin. 'There are some
pickles and bread left, all the cooked food has been eaten and the
chef's away to bed.'

El-Vador
felt a pang of hunger for a hot meal, he hadn't savoured a proper one
since the keep. 'Very well, pickles and bread it is then. '

The
server soon returned with what could charitably be called a meal,
several limp pickles and a stale-looking loaf of bread. 'Two coppers
before you tuck in,' he said.

'Have
you any vacancies as well?' the Elf asked, looking distastefully at
the pickle.

'There's
one room available if you don't mind sharing.'

That
wasn't to anyone's liking, El-Vador could tell. 'Very well then.' he
replied, placing two more coppers in the sweaty palm of the server.

'You
look like it's going to reach out and bite you.' Eihblin said through
a mouth of bread.

Looking
up at his plate, he realised that Eihblin had tucked into the rest of
the loaf with gusto. Phaedra seemed measured in contrast, sipping at
the water but not deigning to take a bite.

'We
do not have these pickles in the mountains from whence I came.'
El-Vador finally replied.

Eihblin
smiled at him, 'Try it, it's delicious.'

Hesitantly,
he finally lifted the offending vegetable up by two fingers and took
a bite out of it.

Eihblin
let out a laugh at his soured expression and even Phaedra cracked a
faint smile. The Elf's bravado forced him to swallow it. 'I don't
understand how you can eat such things.' he replied, eyeing the
offending vegetables with distaste and taking a quick gulp of water.

'You
will have to learn the ways of humanity if you choose to live amongst
us.' Eihblin remarked, the smile not leaving her lips. 'Pickles and
all.'

El-Vador
tore a hunk of bread from the loaf and stuffed it into his mouth,
hoping to mop up some of the sour taste off his tongue. It was
decidedly better than the green things his senses had just been
assailed by so he munched upon it with ravenous abandon.

When
the meal was finished they were shown to their room, a small place
with one bed and a basin of water in the corner. It was barely worth
what they paid for it but it would have to do.

'I
do not require sleep at this time.' Phaedra remarked, standing next
to the basin and staring into the air in a disconcerting fashion.

Eihblin
looked at El-Vador, they were in agreement about how the night would
progress then.

'Will
you take the first shift?' she asked him, eyeing Phaedra once more
with suspicion.

The
Elf nodded, and that was that.

Anacletus
slept lightly that night, waking every hour or so and checking the
cold surroundings of the rooftop to ensure that he had not been
sighted. He had no desire to draw attention to himself any further
after his murder of the guard, as a result he had skirted up the side
of a tall building and settled himself upon the flat roof for the
night. He doubted that anyone would discover him in this location but
constant vigilance was a small price to pay for staying alive in his
line of work. It would not be long until he received his payment from
Sarvacts and could get back to a life of leisure for a time. The
intoxicating dens of his homeland seemed a far off memory and one
that he wished to return to beyond anything else.

With
the dawning of a new day, Anacletus would depart from the city and
continue leaving a trail for his pursuers to follow. He might even
double back to make sure they had made it out of the city
successfully, though he did not expect the bitch to stall in pursuit
of him, she had not done so before.

With
thoughts of the chase playing on his mind, he slipped back into an
uneasy slumber.

He
awoke to the sound of arms clambering up the side of the building, it
was an unmistakeable noise. Surely the only reason for such a thing
happening would be to come after him?

He
readied his blade and stalked over to the side of the building, away
from the scrambling noises yet still within viewing distance of the
efforts. Whoever it was made no pretence of stealth in their efforts,
a long and laborious process with much stalling, as if the owner of
the limbs was not familiar with scaling objects.

Anacletus
peered over the edge at the newcomer but in this darkness it was hard
to make anything out. Better safe than sorry, he proceeded back to
where the potential assailant was climbing to and prepared to stab
downward at the first sight of flesh.

A
hand eventually crested the lip of the building and he thrust his
dagger into it, fully expecting a cry of pain and a long trip down
for his unfortunate opponent. Instead a second hand gripped the edge
of the roof and started pulling itself up. In response, Anacletus
withdrew his blade and stabbed the other offending limb, again there
was no cry from this strange figure.

He
backed away a little, preparing to make his escape. There was no way
that such a one-paced climber could hope to match him on the
rooftops, perhaps he was too high on a cocktail of drugs to even
notice his hands had been stabbed.

The
man finally hauled himself up to standing on the edge of the building
but made no further movement in Anacletus' direction. Surprised at
this, the assassin decided not to flee.

'I
come from my lord Sarvacts with a message.' the figure said, 'We have
much to discuss.'

Syvembile
slipped into the room unnoticed, laying himself down upon the bed
with a sigh. His questions had determined the creature that had slain
two of his brother priests had indeed sought refuge in this city.

The
thing that called itself El-Vador was the one responsible for the
deaths of Harlven and Friedweld, of that Syvembile had no doubt. It
was too coincidental that this mysterious character would show up and
depart in the short space between the murders. Every other innocent
visitor had remained for questioning, why had this one vanished if he
was not guilty?

That
he had been bested by this creature so easily in front of his master
when in combat made it even worse, this was the only way he could
redeem himself from such a fluke. He had been quick to volunteer to
join the search for the man responsible for their deaths, he did not
voice his opinions though lest the priests deny his wishes. When next
he met this Elven foe it would not be a practice bout, he would make
him suffer.

Yes,
the Elf must die not only to avenge his fallen comrades but to put an
end to the burning shame his master had placed within him for losing
the bout. He would find the conspicuous Elf within these walls and do
away with him and any followers.

His
dreams that night were of the Elf's face, contorted in pain and
begging for mercy.

XXI

It is far less painful and miserable to go through life having a
great deal in common with those surrounding you. Wherever I went I
was the only Elf in sight, I was always a foreign agent and such
difference attracts its dissenters. There was never any shortage of
people willing to make an issue of my difference, the state of
constant readiness for this reality was exhausting.

A
nacletus
awoke alone on the rooftop to the dawning of the day, the automaton
had left him to sleep fitfully as it had promised.

It
was then that he realised that he was not alone. He edged himself
toward the intruder upon the rooftop with his knife drawn, cursing
himself for thinking the place would be clear of people at this hour.
As he neared the edge he gripped the hooded head of the man and
jerked it back, exposing the throat to his blade.

The
man showed no trepidation at such an occurrence, perhaps threats such
as these were common in the city. It was a young boy underneath the
hood, yet had he caught Anacletus sleeping he may well have stolen
the heirloom and buried a dagger in his guts for his troubles.

'What
are you doing on these rooftops, boy?' the assassin asked.

The
boy's eyes widened now, fear beginning to sink in at the realisation
that this was a stranger. 'I was just scouting the rooftop sir, I did
not realise that this was your territory.'

'If
you are lying to me I will slash your throat here and now,
understood?' Anacletus replied, pressing the blade closer so that a
trickle of blood would punctuate his question.

The
boy started to shake uncontrollably, wetting himself in the process.
Big tears streaming down his face and snot seeming to pour from his
nose at will.

'Damn
it all!' Anacletus exclaimed, removing his blade and hefting a kick
at the boy that sent him sprawling across the rooftop.

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