The Last Praetorian (21 page)

Chapter 17:  A Different Kind of Peril

In Trondheim, Loki disappeared through the portal. Tarion stomped up the steps, steaming.

Hrolf met him and said, “Come inside and let’s get you stitched up. Koth’s made more of a mess of you than two dragons have!”

Hrolf grabbed a lantern for better light and appraised Tarion with an experienced eye. He nodded and said, “By the Gods, two dragons, an elvish shade and a demon-fired gyran all in a day! I don’t know how are we’re going to keep you in one piece if this keeps up!”

Tarion daubed at his wounds and examined his bloody fingers. “As much as I hate to admit it, Oleson was right—I need to go away. This isn’t going to end pleasantly. You were at the siege, Hrolf; do you want Trondheim to end up like Roma?”

Hrolf didn’t have an answer for that. He led Tarion back to the table in front of the fire and snapped his thick fingers. “Aubrey fetch your mother and some catgut, Tarion’s got a wound that needs sowing.” He cursed in the direction of the bar where the hoard of patrons now converged.

Tarion followed his eyes. The tavern was abuzz with the duel
. The spectators wanted a pint with which to further the evening discussion. Tarion grimaced. People, whether giants, mortals, pixies or even the few elves that now sauntered in, were fickle. The unearthly duel confirmed their worst fears but instead of assaulting him and throwing him into the sea, they seemed more interested in gossiping about it. Portends were grim but it still was something to talk about. What ire remained in the patrons, they now directed at Furge. The befuddled hill giant looked anything but imposing as he tried to make sense of the torrent of orders.

Hrolf shouted above the din. “Furge, stop serving the customers ale and bring a pitcher here; they were doing the watching, Tarion was doing the fighting!” Hrolf grabbed Tarion’s arm and set him in a chair. He shook his head. “Only
the Gods know whether you’re right or not, but it’s true that people are on edge. We’re still reeling after the loss of Ostheim and the Northern provinces. You should at least lay low if that’s possible.”

Tarion nodded grimly. He had to make things right with his parents and then he had to go. Where he was going, he had no idea, but Tarion knew one thing. The first thing any enterprise required was gold. There was an obvious answer. “Tomorrow I’m going to plunder Gaurnothax’s lair. I hope that the old drake had enough set aside for my needs. I have a few
days’ worth of business here. Then I’ll be on my way.”

“Where will you go?” Hrolf seemed concerned at Tarion’s course, but he didn’t argue. “You need some help, Tarion, that’s for sure. I’ll do as much as I can. You’ll have a room here and board—all that you need. It’s the least I can do.”

Furge waded through the crowd with a tall pitcher and two fresh leather jacks. Hrolf took them and poured out some ale for both of them. “Drink up,” he ordered as put a fresh napkin on Tarion’s cuts and had him hold it tight. Tarion obeyed on both accounts, enjoying the smooth, soothing sensation of the ale as it coursed down his throat and into his stomach. Hrolf’s brew was strong. Tarion didn’t normally drink so much. He felt warmth spread throughout his limbs, deadening the growing ache in his face. Hrolf patted him on the shoulder and said, “I’ll fetch Augga. We need to get that cut stitched.” The innkeeper swept up his jack of ale and disappeared into the crowd.

#

Hrolf found Augga hustling out of the kitchen with fresh cheese, sausage, butter and bread heaped on platters. “What’s that, Mother? Tarion needs fixing, not feeding; fetch your needle and catgut!” Augga got her wares, but to Hrolf’s surprise, she plied them on Aubrey.

“Here, daughter, you take care of Tarion. I’m sure he’d rather have you do it than me and that will suit you fine!”

“What do you mean, Mother?” Aubrey asked, blushing.

“Now, Aubrey, I can guess what kind of attentions stoked Koth’s ire,” and before Hrolf could interfere, his wife adjusted
Aubrey’s blouse to display her natural bounty in the most advantageous manner.

“Mother!” started Hrolf, but Augga stopped him.

“Hush, Father! Now, don’t be embarrassed, Aubrey, he’s a handsome powerful man and we want you to look your best!”

“
Mother, you mistake me!” Aubrey rebuked her, but she didn’t try to stop her Mother’ primping.

“I daresay I don’t, dear,” Augga winked, fluffing the girl’s hair and pinching her cheeks until they were a nice healthy red. “There you are, pretty as a picture! Now off with you. He needs a woman’s tending, not a matron’s care!” Augga shooed her daughter off and watched with keen interest.

#

Tarion expected Augga; instead, Aubrey showed up. “I thought your mother was going to do this,” he said doubtfully.

“Now don’t you worry, Tarion, I know my way around a warrior’s wounds. I stitched my father up when I was only eight!” She lifted his chin and daubed the cuts clean. “My word, Koth did some work on you to be sure, but I think I can manage without leaving any scars.”

“Don’t worry, Aubrey, there’s not much damage you can do to this face,” Tarion said.

She cleansed his wounds and went to work on the long ragged cut left by the demon’s horns. Tarion didn’t mind the stitching so much as he did Aubrey’s intimate presence. Her touch was soft and gentle, her perfume enticing and the cut of her blouse was making it very difficult to be stoic. He couldn’t help but be attracted to the young girl, but she was just that: young. Besides, she was Hrolf’s daughter. He wanted no part of that.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” the girl asked. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all,” Tarion said, refusing to take the bait.

“I really am very sorry about all this, Tarion,” she said. “I never meant for you to be involved with my troubles.”

For once, Aubrey sounded sincere and Tarion took advantage of it to put some distance in their relationship. “It must have been hard having Koth lusting after you every day for a thousand years. I wish I’d come sooner. I’d have stuck up for you—like a dear uncle!”

Aubrey sighed and said sweetly, “You’re not my uncle, Tarion, but I’m glad you don’t hold me to blame. By rights I’m yours now and it wouldn’t do to start our life together by being cross.”

“What?” Tarion started, pulling away so hard that Aubrey lost hold of the needle. It dangled off his forehead from six inches of sinew. The patrons around them laughed and began discussing Tarion’s inevitable nuptials. Aubrey’s expression was quite serious, causing Tarion to stammer, “What on earth are you talking about?”

The girl looked hurt. “Koth claimed me,” she said forcefully. “No other man dared his claim—until you.” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyes. “You won me fair and square, Tarion. All the men in Trondheim will be jealous that you have such a sweet, young and beautiful girl as a wife. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Tarion was thunderstruck. The patrons seemed to forget that he brought doom upon their town and toasted him joyfully. Aubrey thanked them, moving behind Tarion and showing him off to the throng. They clapped and cheered. Aubrey bent over and kissed him; then she burst out laughing and let him in on the joke. “Oh my sweet Tarion, if only you could’ve seen the look on your face!” she chided. She gained control of herself and patted him playfully on the head. “Now, let me finish this. I’m tired of bending over, though. I’ll sit on your lap if you don’t mind. Bending over is far too uncomfortable—for both of us.” She pushed his legs together and before Tarion could object, she plunked her curvaceous backside down on his lap. “There, you’re the perfect height, imagine that? That’ll make this much quicker.”

She was right, although her proximity was now especially uncomfortable.

“It’s a good thing for you we live under the old Imperial code and not under the Sunkaron code,” Aubrey said.

“What’s the difference?” Tarion asked. Even though he knew all about Sunkaron, he was anxious to change the subject.

“Sunkaron is one of the Destructor’s vassal states. Everything and I mean everything, is set down. That’s how it is under the Destructor’s dominion. As it is, you and I have a choice and that has its advantages and its disadvantages.”

“Aubrey, no one could ever describe you as a disadvantage,” Tarion said uncomfortably, “but aside from my age I live under a curse. I’m no place for a woman, especially a young, beautiful woman with her whole life ahead of her.”

 “Tarion, that’s as sweet a rejection as I’ve ever gotten,” she whispered. “I’m all done. Thanks for being such an enjoyable patient and thanks again for sticking up for me.” She took his face gently in her hands and kissed him on the unstitched part of his forehead and then before he could stop her, she kissed him on the lips; letting the kiss linger long enough for her intentions to show but not long enough for any great impropriety.

Giggling, she left Tarion miserably alone with his ale.

#

Across the bar, Hrolf pulled at his beard. “Mother, now what have you gone and done?”

“By the Gods, Hrolf, we must look after our daughter! He’s a mighty man after all and as the Praetorian, he’s richer than we could dream. Face it, we’ll never find a match this good not if we wait a thousand years!”

“Banish the thought!” Hrolf exclaimed. “Gods, don’t be thinking that way, Mother!”

“Why, what’s the matter with him? He’s well and strong enough—even with only the one hand! He’s not so old to be caring for children and Aubrey’s the one who’d be doing the carrying. He’d raise our poor house to royalty!”

“I don’t know where you come by such tales, Mother and therein lays the peril!” Hrolf’s expression was so serious that Augga held her tongue. “Listen, I know my daughter and I know men. Our Aubrey’s about as high above any girl in this country as can be, but I couldn’t wish him on my pretty lass!”

“Father, what’s so dreadful about him?”

“Hush Mother,” Hrolf said hotly and he hustled her into the kitchen. “I don’t mean that at all! Augga, you are uncommonly raw to the world! I should’ve told you more of my traveling
days, or at least told you more honestly of them! Shush and listen to me! Didn’t you hear what Oleson said? Well he was right! Tarion’s a noble man. In better times I’d be all for this matchmaking of yours, but as it is I won’t have it. The duel with Koth sealed it!”

“What of it? Why should a Praetorian not be able to dispatch a conceited gyran like Koth? I’ll wager you could have done it yourself.”

“Maybe if it was just Koth, but didn’t you see he was possessed by a demon?” His voice sank to a whisper. “It wasn’t any ordinary witch or wizard’s spell, either. It was none other than Loki, the Trickster!”

“Why should Loki hate us so?”

“He doesn’t, Mother. Don’t worry yourself on that account. Now listen! Tarion has the mark of the Destructor on his brow! Tarion is cursed—don’t you see?”

Augga’s pallor became whiter than Alfrodel’s.

“Mother, you shouldn’t have put that thought in her head.”

“Don’t you be worrying about what I put in her head,
   Father; you look after your daughter!” Augga said, with a sudden change of heart. “Behold, she’s attentive on our friend and her eyes are sharp. She’s latched onto my words like a she-wolf to a shank!”

“May the Gods help us,” Hrolf breathed. “We’d best call a halt to this as soon as may be. I’ll close up the tavern. Then we’ll take him to his room and lock Aubrey in for the night!”

“But Father, do you think we should have him in our house being marked as he is?

Hrolf turned angry. “Mother, I owe him my life and I’ll pay that debt —just not with my daughter.”

“Well then we’d best find a place for him.” Augga planted her hands on her round hips and shook her head. “Where, I don’t know; we have no extra rooms!”

Hrolf looked shocked. ”Are you certain?”

“I’m sorry, Father, but I can’t change the number of rooms we have!” She pointed to the various patrons in the tavern. “There’s the party all the way from Viborg, the Sunkarions, the elves of Haldieth, the hill giant family from Groenhabb and that clan of gnomes that came in day before yesterday. You know well enough they show up for ten barrels of ale every year this very week. It’s for their Midwinter’s Eve festival.”

“Very well, very well, I understand you well enough, Mother,” Hrolf pulled at his beard and muttering. “But I promised him a room. I owe him my life.”

“Well, Father, if he’s a true man he’ll understand and if not then he wouldn’t have saved you in the first place. Worry about your daughter’s affections, not your friend’s comfort!”

“Mother, you see things in your own way, that’s sure,” he growled.

“Am I ever wrong?”

“I hope you’re not wrong this time.”

“He’s a Praetorian and like as not, he’s used to sleeping under trees on the campaign,” she said, bustling toward Tarion’s table. “He’ll be more than comfortable in the common room. There’s many fine folk that have rested well enough in there as opposed to sleeping in the cold.”

“Mother I can’t ask that!”

“Do you want me to ask it?” she said with an expression that left Hrolf no doubt that she would tell him so with no guilt whatsoever.

“No, no, Mother! I’ll do it,” he said. He told to Furge to close up. Although the hour was early, most of the patrons seemed to have had enough excitement for the evening. Therefore, Hrolf and his wife made their way through the thinning company to Tarion’s table.