Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (7 page)

A Scent of Something Rotten

Chapter 8

T
he horse that was not exactly a horse snorted besides her, clearly not impressed. Se’and turned her head and frowned, shaking her head.
It’s only a rather large horse,
she told herself,
we’ve had it since... since…

 
EDOUS, whispered a voice in her mind as her sight momentarily blurred.

 
She blinked, wondering what she’d even been thinking. She turned her head and looked for possible threats.

The town of Uerilyn was the first Se’and considered safe enough to stop at since they left the Barrows and went off on their own. She slowed her mount as they came through the arched, very old, Imperial gate. Raven padded ahead, sniffing the air. At sight of the tawny furred black maned beast everyone backed away.

  Se’and tried not to think about not being in her Cathartan livery. She glanced at Fri’il, who rode double behind Lord Je’orj. The younger woman looked no more comfortable out of uniform than she did. Well, having cropped her hair short and being dressed in pants and a vest as a manservant likely made Fri’il likely far less comfortable than Se’and.
At least I’m dressed as a woman, even if I can’t wear a sword publicly.
But she concealed daggers aplenty, which attackers would learn to their rue. The clothing they liberated along the way wasn’t the finest, but no one expected merchants from afar to wear their best along the road.

 
George offered Fri’il his hand and helped her dismount, then his unusually large horse bent its front knees and let him climb off.

 
He glanced at the horse. “Uh, thank you.” Then he removed his staff from the saddle bindings.

Fri’il cleared her throat. “I present the honorable merchant, Jeo d’Aere.”

  “Uh, I’m looking for the Merchant Guild’s Lane,” he said with a smile.

 
That drew stares. An old man pointed.

 
George drew out a foreign coin and tossed it to the fellow, “Thanks.”

 
“Uh, thankee, Milore!” Pure silver was good coin no matter the realm.

Fri’il took the reins of their horses as their growing audience followed, less than discretely, behind them. Se’and glanced casually back as Raven paused to glare at one fellow in particular. He chose to back away, which was fine by Se’and, who didn’t like the look of the well serviced sword at his hip or the scar on his face one bit. She signaled Raven to once more lead the way.

The Merchants Lane smelled. George was not the only one whose nose wrinkled. Well, the tannery up the street certainly was not helping, but there was another scent overlaying those cloying odors that bothered him.

 
“Staff,” he muttered.

:Really?:

“Staff,” he whispered under his breath, growing angry.

 
:Fine…Enhancing…,:
his computer staff stated, increasing the sensitivity of the human variant of their combined passive sensors abilities, which meant George’s nose wrinkled even more as chemical identifiers flashed across George’s thoughts.

 
He turned and followed the scent, stopped and muttered, “What’s that?” 

 
“Milord?” Se’and whispered, clearly unhappy at her lord’s apparent distraction.

  
:George, that’s…:

 
The sign above the Guild’s door read: “Goon Power Guild.”

 
Frowning, George headed for that door as Fri’il rasped, “Milord!”

The outer hall served as a shop and was filled with wooden casks. A Guilder frowned as George entered the shop and crossed the room to the nearest cask and pulled off the lid.

 
“Sir? May I help you?”

 
“Just, uh, checking out the quality of your wares.”

 
“I assure you they are the finest in the Province – if not the Empire.”

 
He touched the black powder then rubbed it between his fingertips. There were a great number of candles burning. He flicked some grains into the nearest. The flame instantly went out. “Of course, goon powder’s the

local fire extinguisher.”

  “Certified to put out any fire – in sufficient quantity, my good sir.”

 
“Magery,” he muttered, then bought a flask full.

 
Se’and muttered at the cost, “You had to buy the primo brand?”

 
“The finer the… oh, never mind. Would it be possible for me to speak to the, uh, Master goon?” George asked the guilder, realizing how bizarre that sounded even to him.

 
“I’ll see if Master Sylvan is available…”

“Master D’Aere, so our product interests you?”

 
“Very… I’ve just a few questions. I take it the finer the grains the more powerful the reaction.”

 
“Of course, which is why a town this size can limit its supply in case of fire… It is rare for the Empire to export, but…”

 
“You’re not elfblooded.”

 
The old man smiled, “Ours is a human Guild. We’ve no need of elfbloods. We’ve our secrets, but magery is not actively needed.”

 
George smiled. “That’s good to know. Are there many Guild Halls such as this one in the Empire?”

 
“The largest Guild Halls are normally not found in the major cities, but we do much trade with the Imperial Legion and units of the City Guardsmen.”

 
Nodding, George said, “So the making of saltpeter is secret and you’re able to make a good living.”

 
The Master’s eyes were wide, he gestured to his assistant, who barred the door as Se’and turned. Raven bristled and growled.

 
George leaned forward, “It wasn’t always called goon power, you know – but if you goons like it better this way.”

 
Several burly Guilders came out of the back room.

 
:Actually, I think goons better describes them, George,:
Staff said through their rapport.

 
“Je – Jeo,” Se’and muttered, “what have you placed us into this time?”

 
With a smile, George tightened his grip on his staff. “Would you like to improve the formula a bit? No charge. But, as a man of science, I’m interested in seeing what techniques you’ve mastered.”

 
The old man’s eyes widened. “Sci… you’re no merchant!”

George shrugged, “Of course, I am, but I’m also rather knowledgeable in certain areas.”

The Guild Master rasped, “Who are you?”

 
Se’and rolled her eyes. “He’s a – an alchemist among our people.”

 
“Alchemists use magery! And you, sir, are very human!” a young Guilder exclaimed.

 
“I don’t do magic. My knowledge doesn’t depend on it – but my skills in, uh, alchemy, will surprise you. Consider me a foreign friend of your Guild. Tell no one about me and we won’t share any of your secrets, either.”

 
The old man laughed, “You’ve no idea what life is like for humans in the Empire – the Guild offers us the closest thing to magic there is.”

 
“And no one else wants to shove all the manure,” one of the goons grumbled.

 
George offered his hand. The Master of Goons shook it and smiled, “Please, come with me. I’ll show you our factory and you will share your knowledge.”

 
George clearly heard an “or else.” He nodded and smiled, unable to help but wonder what twist in the laws of science nitroglycerin was now good for. 

“I tell you, he’s got no guards!” Bertin said, rubbing the scar under his eye as they sat in a dark corner of the most disreputable tavern in town.

 
“Did ya see tha’ horse he rides?” his partner said. “It’s a bleeding warhorse is what it is!”

 
“Shh, Towsin, we don’t wanna draw attention,” Bertin rasped.

 
“Okay, okay…” Towsin said in a quieter voice. “So we’s no idea what enchantments he’sa got… No merchant peddlin’ jewels is goin’ round the province wit’ out a ton of enchantments!”

 
“And he’s a guard beast,” his partner said. “A right scary lookin’ one – wit’ sharp claws.”

 
“So, if you want what has got the Jewelers Guild so excited, you’ll need to be clever…” the cloaked figure replied.

 
“Dat’s why’s we’s telling you!” Towsin said.

 
“My cut’s fifty percent, understood?”

 
“You’s the boss,” Bertin said, nodding.

 
The elfblood sat back and downed the rest of his ale. “Go over it all
again. I need to know everything you saw, then we need to know everything else we can.”

Merchant

Chapter 9

“W
hat took you so long?” Fri’il asked when they finally left the Guild.

 
Se’and glanced over her shoulder at Je’orj, “He’s just chatting up the locals.”

 
“Well, you could have found some place that didn’t smell so bad.”

 
The large horse nodded and nickered.

 
Se’and eyed the horse, then gestured, while their charge, otherwise known as their Lord––by––Bond, and therefore husband, finally went back to following their little plan as they headed down the street toward the Jeweler’s District. At least there they could turn some of their precious stones into welcome coin.

Evert was the town’s Master Jeweler and after seeing the foreigner’s wares invited them to dine with him that night. “It is rare for a merchant such as yourself, from the Crescent Lands, to visit our province, no less our fair town,” said the thin man dressed in an impeccably Imperial styled coat.

 
“Hence, opportunity for a new market,” George replied.

 
“Indeed, so. I hope you enjoy my chef’s specialties… then we can discuss business.”

The merchant selected an inn near the Jeweler’s District. Once they left to dine with the best of the jewelers in town, the pair took the opportunity to go through the merchant’s rooms at the inn. One of them held out the charm they had been given. It remained dark,

indicating there were no hidden wards.

  “Do you suppose he’s selling daggers?”

 
“…Two braces here… Oh, joys, three more here.”

 
“Wit that big monster of a horse out back, think tha’ merchant mighta been a Legionnaire with one of them city––states?”

 
His partner turned around, holding out the charm again, which continued to remain dark.

 
“Put everythin’ back the way you found it, then let’s talk to the boss.”

Raven bounded into the room as soon as Se’and opened the door. She sniffed and bristled.

 
George frowned as Fri’il barred the door. “Apparently we’ve had guests,” he said.

 
Rising up on her haunches, Raven shimmered and changed into a naked girl with black hair. “Two men,” she said.

 
“My, my, should I blush?” Se’and said.

 
“Does everyone on the whole planet want to rob us?” George shook his head.

 
Fri’il laughed, “Only those that don’t want to kill us, Milord.”

 
“Well, then it’s good we’ve sold a good number of those jewels for a decent price,” George added. “We’ll head out at first light.”

 
“And if they don’t break in tonight, we’ll deal with them on the road tomorrow,” Se’and said. “Perhaps, we’ll get some help from those Guilders you’ve wasted all that money on.”

 
George glanced at the staff in his hand, which began to glow. “I intend to get a good night’s sleep… We’ll deal with them tomorrow.”

 
:How are you going to manage that?:
the now glowing computer staff asked through their rapport.

 
“I’m counting on a little support,” he replied as Se’and and Fri’il glanced at him.

 
The Summoning that shrouded him sighed and mentally whispered,

NO ONE SHALL DISTURB YOU TONIGHT… LEAVE HERE AT FIRST LIGHT.

  George nodded and removed his cloak, which went from looking a satin blue to scaled hide. Fri’il looked to Se’and, “You want me to take first shift?”

 
Se’and looked at Raven, “You up to it?”

 
She crawled under the covers, “No, I bedtime story want.”

 
George chuckled, “A story? How about the shepherd boy that was always getting laughed at?”

 
Raven nodded, grinning as George began to pull off his boots only to

find Se’and helping him. “Well, then, once upon a time there was a boy who loved hearing tales of the terrible war between mankind and elfdom. And one day as he sat perched on the cliff face of the Barrier Mountains he could imagine seeing… blasts of light for – that ancient war.”

  He shut his eyes as staff flashed the images from memory of the actual fight… Killing wyverns wasn’t something that bore thinking about.

 
Taking a deep breath, staff cut off the images. George continued with his tale as Fri’il and Se’and finished disrobing, set out their daggers, then came over and sat on the edge of the bed. He regaled his foster––daughter with Casber’s tale of being laughed at until he brought home the stranger with the odd staff.

 
Before he finished, Raven was asleep.

The elfblood mageling smiled as he was about to order the two to accompany him to the inn, where they would slit their victims’ throats after he enchanted them into a very deep sleep.

IT WOULD BE BETTER TO ROB THEM OUTSIDE THE TOWN GATES, whispered the thought.

 
He blinked, “We’ll ambush them on the road… I know the perfect place to trap them.”

 
Bertin glanced at Towsin, both frowned, nodding.

AND YOU KNOW JUST THE SPELL TO USE ON THEM.

  Nodding, he smiled. He knew just the spell.

They did not get as early a start as George might have hoped. :
But you did get a good night’s sleep,:
staff said.

 
“Morning, Milord,” Fri’il said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

 
“Uh, good morning.”

 
Se’and said, “The horses are saddled. No sign of trouble yet. Raven’s keeping watch.” He glanced out the window and saw the pale falc with a black crest shaking her wings, perched on the ledge that overlooked the courtyard.

 
“They’re planning to hit us in a glade about five leagues out of town,” he said.

 
“Now how do you know that?”

 
George blinked, “Apparently, I just know.”

 
YOU ARE WELCOME. NOW GET A MOVE ON. I’M WAITING. He winced as the Summoning pulled on him.

 
“Hold your horses,” he muttered.

 
“Milord?” Se’and said, confused as she offered him a cup of steaming hot caf.

 
“Never mind, just an old figure of speech.”

 
Fri’il gestured at the hot cereal, bread and butter she’d brought up.

 
They ate quickly, gathering their belongings. They had a trap to walk into.
Never a dull day for a simple merchant,
he thought, or what the locals, doubtless, would consider the work of a mage. He gripped his staff and willed it to quiescence.

The horse that was not a horse bent to allow George and Fri’il to mount. Raven fluttered her wings, then dove from her perch and changed form in the alley. Moments later, she bounded in front of them and led the way out of town.

 
They left through the west gate as George almost felt sorry from

the mageling and his minions who intended to rob them. Well, the Imperials would likely be pleased in the drop in crime that was about to result.

“They’s comin’!” Towsin said.

  The elfblood smiled as he finished chanting the last words of his spell. Yet, what he heard himself saying were not the words he intended.

 
The Summoning was rather smug… This was one self––taught elfblood – and you could never make up for not having a good education. It led to subtle mistakes. Being confounded was something that having been trained in developing solid wards would have prevented.

 
It was a shame, really – such a waste. The Empire needed unity not this squandering of gifts for material gain.

 
Well, that was something the Summoning might be able to change… Literally. If the intangible spirit form wrapped in a spell could grin, it would have.