Jeff Salyards - Scourge of the Betrayer

“When I was young, not eight nor nine, a man showed up at The Noisy Jackal-that was the name of the inn, and he-”

“Good name.”

I stopped and looked at her.

“For a tavern. Good name. Better than the Three Casks. No kind of character at all in a name like that. Might as well call it The Three Boards, or The Three Drunks, be done with it. Come to think of it, though, that wouldn’t be half bad. The Three Drunks, I was meaning. Says there’s some kind of story behind the name, which there ought to be. Otherwise no sense naming a thing at all.”

I waited until I was sure she was done and tried again. “Yes. Well. This man appeared, and-”

“Was it your da?”

“Oddly enough, I was just about to tell you who it was.”

She smiled. “Course you were. Go on.”

“No, he wasn’t my father. But he was his retainer.”

“What’s that, then?”

I felt we were nearing an impasse. “What’s what?”

“Retainer, you said, was it? What’s that?”

I nearly rolled my eyes before remembering that Anjurian wasn’t her first language and she’d had no formal schooling besides. “His man. My father’s man. Like Vendurro and Glesswik are the captain’s men. His retainers.”

She started to nod, accepting that, and then stopped, eyes widening. “Your da was a Syldoon?”

“No. I was giving an example. Explaining the term. Retainer.”

Lloi looked puzzled. “So, not a Syldoon, but a soldier then. Your da was a soldier.”

I tried hard to keep the frustration off my face. “No. Likely a merchant or a noble. Any man with some wealth or power can have a retainer. A retainer is like a servant, or someone in a man’s service anyway.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say as much, then? Got to go confusing things with terms that don’t mean nothing in particular.”

I opted not to debate the point, and was nearly going to drop the topic altogether, when she rolled her hand in a circle. “Go on then. Tell me about your da’s man who come calling. Only do it without confusing things no more.”

I smiled despite myself. “Fair enough. I’m not sure how he found me. Maybe my father had known of me for some time, though if he had, I’m not sure why he waited so long to send a ret-… his man. Either way, the man was there at my father’s behest to-”

Lloi’s eyes started to narrow but I rode past any objections or queries. “My father sent him to offer my mother a bargain. For some coin, the man was going to take me away and set me up in a university. I didn’t really understand what was happening at all. But my mother didn’t exactly agonize over the decision, so it all moved very quickly. She accepted the terms and money, however much it was, made me gather my things, gave me one stiff hug, and sent me off with the man.

“I was confused. I thought maybe he was my father, but he explained in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t. He loaded me and my meager belongings onto a cart and led me away from the Jackal.”

“Your ma?”

I was about to clarify when I saw her gap-toothed grin. “You are forgiven for thinking so. Yes, he led me off, telling me I was heading to a school. I didn’t really know what that entailed, never having seen one, but hoped my father would be there, as that was the only thing that kept me from bawling the entire time. The thought that at least I would finally know who my father was.”

She scrutinized my expression. “Guessing you didn’t though, did you?”

“No. No, I didn’t. Altunis-my father’s servant, as I discovered, though that was about all I’d learn about the man. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming. Altunis transported me to a university several days ride away. And after paying my tuition, deposited me there among strangers. My father paid for my schooling for the duration of my stay, but never visited me or the school that I knew of. I never met him. I don’t know if he had other bastards, or put them up somewhere if he did. I might even have had brothers and sisters at the university and never known it. And I never saw Altunis again to ask.

“While my mother could be cold at times, cruel even, it was crueler still to allow me to be wrenched out of that life so abruptly, and to have any illusions about ever meeting my father completely shredded. I never forgave her for that.”

I hadn’t expected to provide that many details, but they seemed to be coming out of their own accord, and even over a tenyear later, the memories they evoked were still a little jagged. “So, while I might not have suffered as you did, Lloi, I do know something about losing a family, real and imagined. And I know something about bitterness, too.”

“Expecting you do. Only that’s where the comparison ends real sudden like. I got no bitter to speak of.”

I stared at her, incredulous. “How could you not? What happened to you was far worse than my fate.” The words were out before I could stop them. But if she was stung at all, she didn’t show it, and I tried to move past it quickly. “Why did your people do that, Lloi? That’s what I don’t really understand. You said ‘on account of what you were.’ What was that? Why would they treat you like that?”

Lloi cocked her head to the side and looked at me queerly. “Huh. I was thinking Captain Noose must have told you a fair bit more than he done told you.”

She stood, having to stoop only a little. “Real nice chatting with you, bookmaster. Real nice. Excepting the part about your family. But I’m thinking we won’t be doing much more of that before you round some things off with the captain there. Gets real particular about who says what without his say so. Anytime you want to share some seeds, though, you just say as much. Got near as many as you got questions.”

Lloi stepped over my legs, nearly tripping on an ankle as I tried to pull them out of her path. She disentangled herself and looked down at me. “This wagon gets tiny right quick, don’t it?”

Then she hunchwalked to the fore of the wagon, pulled the flap back, and shouted, “Coming through, Captain Noose.”

Braylar jumped slightly just before the flap fell closed behind her. I heard him say, “I’ve told you before, don’t shout in my ear, yes?”

“You said so, yeah. But I also know how you don’t like being snuck up on much neither. Last time I snuck up on you, you got more raw than the last time I shouted coming through, so I figured I’d go with the shouting again.”

“I take your point. But if you shout or sneak again, you’ll be walking the rest of the way. Perhaps in the harness.”

I suspected that wasn’t as much of a jest as it should’ve been.

They fell silent and left me to wonder at this strange former savage turned whore turned, what, exactly, scout? Servant? Retainer? I nearly laughed, though the whole thing was infinitely more sad than funny. And yet she told her story-what she did tell of it, anyway-in such flat, emotionless terms, so at odds at the utter tragedy of the tale. It was all so exceptionally strange and perplexing.

We rode the road from Rivermost for some time, though it was mostly just a collection of ruts. After setting my pages to dry, and hearing no noteworthy conversations coming from the front of the wagon-Braylar and Lloi had lapsed into that silence only old comrades or complete strangers can sustain or tolerate-I moved to the rear. There were some travelers far in the distance, but their wagon must have been going just a bit slower than ours, as it incrementally grew smaller on the horizon until it was barely distinguishable as anything at all.

I fell asleep like that, head resting against a barrel. When I woke, we weren’t on the road, the sun had slipped much lower in the sky, and my face probably looked like the wood. I climbed out of the wagon and looked around. The road was some distance off, and I would’ve missed it in the tall grass if it weren’t for a single man leading an ox-drawn cart down it. I walked around to the front. Braylar had unharnessed the horses and led them off to graze. Braylar’s own horses were still tethered on the side, and one looked up at me briefly before returning to its grassy meal. Neither Lloi nor her horse were in sight. Braylar was brushing the horses while they ate. I raised my arm and waved. The gesture wasn’t returned.