Don Bassingthwaite - The Grieving Tree

Natrac winced at the dismissal and shot Dandra a glare. She felt her stomach flinch-and Tetkashtai’s silent derision-at her misstep.

Natrac leaned forward. “Poli , Chain-my friend tends to talk before she thinks. We do want to hire you. We’re told you know the western barrens of Droaam better than anyone.”

“I know all of Droaam,” Chain said. The goblin paused as soon as his boss spoke, one finger still pressed against the account book.

“I’m sure of it,” Natrac agreed quickly. “But the west is really all that-”

“Just get to the point. Who do you want found?”

Natrac coughed. “Not who. What. We’re looking for a place.”

Chain’s eyes narrowed and he looked them over again as he drank from his mug. The goblin pursed his lips and spoke a few words. Chain nodded, his face darkening. He sat forward and slammed the mug down on the desk. “You’re treasure hunters.”

“What?” asked Dandra. “What makes you think we’re treasure hunters?”

“By the look of you, you’ve seen a lot of traveling very recently, but if you’re looking for some place in Droaam, you’re not finished yet. And you’re an unlikely mix-a well-dressed half-orc who’s been through rough times, a kalashtar, and an Aundairian who, unless I’m wrong, has served with the Blademarks.”

Dandra saw Singe stiffen.

Chain snorted. “Don’t look surprised. You sweat Deneith discipline.” The bounty hunter leaned back and crossed his arms. “Treasure hunting and war are the only things that bring together a mix like that and as far as I know, the war is still over.”

“Fine,” said Singe. “Call us treasure hunters. Does it make a difference?”

“Rates go up. I help you, I get a cut of whatever you find.” Singe raised his head and gave Chain a hard look. “That’s mercenary.”

“You’ve worked for Deneith. You should know all about that.” Chain rubbed a rough hand across his chin. “What’s on the schedule, Preesh?”

The goblin flipped ahead in the account book, checked a column, and said in words Dandra understood, “You’re clear.”

Chain leaned across the desk. “Tell me more.”

Natrac glanced at Singe and Dandra, then looked back to Chain. “Have you ever heard of a place called the Spires of the Forge?”

Chain rapped his fingers against the tabletop. “Ten silver,” he said.

“What?”

“Ten silver,” Chain repeated. “Sovereigns, trade bits, matching weights-I don’t care. You’ve just asked me a question. You want an answer, it’s ten silver.”

“You said to tell you more,” Dandra protested.

“Tell, not ask.”

“Ten sovereigns is a steep price for a simple answer,” said Singe. “Either you’ve heard of the place or you haven’t.”

Chain picked up his mug and took another drink. “You’re taking up my time,” he said. “A man needs to eat and Preesh doesn’t work cheap. Ten silver could clear this all up right away.”

Singe grumbled under his breath and looked to Natrac. The half-orc reached into a pouch and produced ten silver sovereigns, pushing them across the table to Chain. “There,” he said. “Now-have you heard of the Spires of the Forge?”

The big man scooped up the coins. “No.”

Dandra stared at him. “No?” she said in shock.

Chain shrugged. “Never heard of them.” He raised his heavy eyebrows. “They were what you were looking for?”

“Yes!”

“Then we’ve just saved ourselves a lot of trouble.” He drank again.

Dandra rose to her feet, fury and the close air of the gaeth’ad house making her head pound. “You just took our money!”

“You paid for an answer. I gave it to you,” the big man said. “Don’t blame me if it’s not the answer you wanted to hear.” He remained seated but the goblin had tensed again.

Singe put a hand on her shoulder. “Easy,” he said. “He’s right.”

She could tell from the sound of his voice that he wasn’t happy either. She glared at Chain. “What about the Hall of the Revered? Have you heard of that or is it going to cost us another ten sovereigns?”

Chain’s shoulders tightened, making his muscles bulge. “I’ll throw it in for free,” he said. “No. I’ve never heard of the Spires of the Forge or the Hall of the Revered.”

“Thank you,” said Natrac. The half-orc rose quickly. “We’ll be on our way, then. Maybe someone else-”

Chain moved with a speed that shocked even Dandra, surging up out of his chair to lean across the table and snap in Natrac’s face. “You try,” he said. “You just try. But here’s another free answer: if I haven’t heard of a place in Droaam, then it doesn’t exist. You ask any other bounty hunter, prospector, or scout and they’re not going to be able to help you either. You’ve already come to the best. If I can’t help you, nobody can!” Natrac flinched back. Chain flung up an arm, pointing back out of the gaeth’ad house. “Get out.”

“I-” Natrac started to say, but Singe grabbed the half-orc with his other arm and hauled both him and Dandra away. Dandra caught a last glimpse of Chain as the big bounty hunter slammed himself back down into his chair. Curious faces peered at them as they hastened out of the house and back into the herb market.

“Twelve bloody moons!” cursed Singe. “What a-”

“What a dahr!” said Dandra through clenched teeth. She looked at Natrac. “Do you think he was lying?”

He shook his head. “That was business, Dandra. He had no reason to lie.”

“What about trying other people? Do you think it was just his ego talking when he said no one else would know anything?”

“It doesn’t look like he would admit to having rivals, does it?” said Natrac. He shrugged. “There’s no harm in trying to find other sources, but Chain was supposed to be the best in the city right now. If he doesn’t know, maybe House Tharashk isn’t the answer.”

“We were only gambling that Tharashk would have the answers we need, Dandra,” Singe pointed out. “There’s still Natrac’s historian.”

Dandra took a deep breath, trying to cool her rage at Chain’s grating manners, and lifted her chin. “But we’re gambling on that, too, aren’t we?” she said with determination. “I’m not going to give up on Tharashk that easily. I don’t think Chain knows as much as he thinks he does.”

“We’ve got time to ask around.” Singe squinted up at the sun, still high in the sky. “We’re not supposed to meet Geth and Ashi for a long while yet.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Twelve moons, we might as well have had them with us all along!”

Dandra glanced at him. “I don’t think that would have helped.”

“No, but I would have enjoyed watching them beat down Chain. That would have been worth ten sovereigns.” He smiled wistfully.

“Do you really think we fooled them?” asked Ashi.

“Probably,” said Geth as they moved through the crowds on one of Zarash’ak’s broader streets. The sun was high; the day was hot. He, the hunter, and Orshok had lingered at Natrac’s house well after the others had gone. Geth had luxuriated in the shade of the canopy on Natrac’s rooftop, napping on a stomach full of bread and honey and grateful for the first day in weeks that there was no need to paddle a boat or hike across country. He twisted as he walked, loosening muscles that had been knotted for too long and added, “Singe likes to think he’s clever.”

“He is clever,” Orshok pointed out.

Geth gave the young orc a glare but bared his teeth in a grin, too. “When you’ve known Singe for as long as I have, you get used to him. You can tell when he’s up to something. I would have known he was trying to get rid of us even you hadn’t said anything, Orshok.”