Jeff Salyards - Scourge of the Betrayer

Braylar stopped and turned on Mulldoos, their noses nearly touching. “I’ve heard enough! We don’t flee. Do you understand, Mulldoos? Not now. Not ever.”

Perhaps unwisely, judging by his captain’s present fervor, Mulldoos replied, “Wide difference between a rout and a retreat. Never said flee, said leave. We done what the Citadel charged us with. Now-”

I thought Braylar might strike him, but instead, he said, through gritted teeth. “We. Stay.” Then he started walking again. “Hewspear-see if any of our men can pick up Henlester’s trail. I would very much like to find him before the baron does. Mulldoos-get me that rogue. I don’t have much time.”

Mulldoos rolled his jaw around. “And what’s for you, then? Draining pitchers until Alespell runs dry?”

Braylar didn’t respond until we cleared one of the gates and the guards. Quietly, he replied, “I’ll be composing letters to grieving widows and harlots. But before I do, I’ll tell you one thing, and tell it once. You and I have endured a great deal together over the years. You’ve saved my life. I’ve saved yours. None are more trusted or valued. But if our familiarity causes you to forget who your commanding officer is again, I’ll ribbon the ground with your flesh. Are we clear?”

Mulldoos bit back a reply I’m sure would have earned him that whipping. Hewspear gave the smallest shake of his head as Mulldoos said, “Oh, we’re plenty clear, Captain Killcoin. Plenty.” He saluted, not caring who might see, and then stomped ahead, doing his best not to let the limp show. Hewspear kept pace with us as and was silent until we made it through the next gate and the road began to level off. Finally, having considered his words, he said, “I only have the vaguest idea what you are going through. And I’m glad of it. Without Lloi… I’m sure you suffer. Greatly. And of all men, I know some of the losses you’ve endured. I was there at the beginning, lad. So I know you’re cold because you have to be. But Bray…” He waited, and when Braylar didn’t respond, finished, “Mulldoos was wrong-Lloi’s loyalty was nothing compared to his own. But you test it, Captain. Sorely.”

Braylar sighed, long and deep, but offered nothing in the way of rebuttal. When we made it back to flat ground, Hewspear shook his head and headed off down a sidestreet. Braylar kept walking in the general direction of our inn. I stayed next to him, saying nothing. He finally looked over at me, and blinked twice, quickly, as if he’d forgotten I was still there. “Shadowing me, yes? How very dutiful.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. I looked for the signs I’d seen out in the grassland, and asked if he needed anything. He laughed, though there was an undeniable edge to it. “Your tender worrying is very touching, but just because Lloi is dead, don’t think I’m in need of another dull-witted shepherd.”

I noticed some blood drops on the side of his scalp. Braylar reached up and touched a new wound that hadn’t been there an hour ago, then looked at the red smear on his fingertips. “That is…” He closed his eyes, wiped his fingers on his tunic. “Leave me, Arki.”

I looked around, unsure if I’d heard correctly. “Where… where shall I go?”

His eyes flickered open at my question. “You’re in a city hosting one of the finest fairs in the land. Full of wonder. Delight. Go. Explore it. I have no more need of you today. You won’t run. You’re with us now, Arki. Irrevocably. Your fate, knotted with ours beyond untangling. You won’t run. And even if you should forget that for a flicker of time, I’m sure you’ll remember what befalls those who flee. So… to the stalls and the sights. Back to your room. Go where you will. Just leave me.”

I didn’t obey right away, until I saw his eyes narrow. Then I nodded, though still didn’t move, unsure where I would head. His eyes were nearly slits, so I took a few directionless steps, figuring I would determine the destination en route. Behind me, Braylar asked, so quietly I barely heard the words, “You were fond of her, yes?”

I half-turned to answer, but didn’t trust myself to keep my voice from quivering, and so stopped and only nodded quickly.

“Good.” He sighed deeply. “Then you’re that much closer to living a complete life-you finally know something of grief at last.”

I faced him, but he was already striding away, which made me both angrier and suddenly bold. “If I’m such a vital member of the company now, then maybe you can finally tell me what’s in that mysterious crate we’ve carted over half of creation.”

He spun and advanced on me quickly, and I immediately wished I’d held my tongue. You would think I’d have mastered that by now.

His nose nearly touching mine, the captain said, “Your ability to record won’t be hindered in the slightest if I rip out your tongue and nail it to a post, which is precisely what I mean to do if you spill our secrets in the street again. Do you understand me, scribe?”

Though I was still angry, I was more terrified, and so I nodded.

“Very good.” He took a single step back. I expected him to spin on his heel and leave again. But he paused, as if considering something. Then, unexpectedly and quietly, he said, “It is full of the coronation clothes of the boy king. Or what he would have worn if we hadn’t stolen them.”

I was as stunned by the revelation itself as by the fact that he chose to reveal anything at all. “But… why? Why did you steal them? Wasn’t he crowned some time ago?”

“The young monarch’s ancestors have worn the royal robes, collar, and smock for every ceremony going back for time immemorial. He has not. We managed to steal them before the coronation, though it did take us some time to smuggle them out of the capital.”

Suddenly things, some things anyway, began to make sense. “That’s where you went after you hired me, wasn’t it? When you took to the road after the interview. But I still don’t understand why? Why go to such lengths? Do the Anjurians place that much stock in simple vestments?”

Braylar smiled, though with a predatory curve. “They place more stock in ceremony than any people alive or dead. There are a fair number who were dubious of their new monarch or his regent as it was. They pledged only the weakest of support. When word got out that the coronation trappings had disappeared, well, to them, it is simply one more indication that his reign is destined to be a short or disastrous one. Absence can be as powerful a sign as spectacle.”

The Anjurians were a strange lot. What he said did make sense of a sort, at least from their perspective. “And what will you do with them?”

His scarred lip twitched. “You are finally beginning to think like a Syldoon. An excellent question, and you can be sure, when I have an excellent answer, you will be the fifth to know.” He heard someone approaching, and without another word, turned and headed back in the direction of the inn.

My legs carried me forward, leaden and slow. I wound my way through the narrow streets, following the sound of the crowd, eager for any kind of distraction to keep my mind off birthmarked torturers, bedeviled captains, dead crippled nomad mystics, and Syldonian conspiracies and power plays.

After a dead-end and some backtracking, I finally made my way out of the warrens and into the plaza they called the Belly Bazaar. The smells reached me before I turned the final corner, and they were so rich and varied they even managed to overpower the human stench. Food carts and tables were scattered everywhere, and the sheer number of people was staggering. Thick slices of fresh baked bread-wheat, rye, barley, oat-abounded, sometimes adorned only with honey butter, other times serving as a plate or makeshift trencher for roasted bacon, pork, or carp (or at least the grease, for those who couldn’t afford the meat proper). There were wooden bowls of pottage, thickened with everything imaginable-peas and grains, leeks and spinach, bits of cod or eel, eggs and yams. I saw small baked hens stuffed with grape leaves, meatballs dredged in flower and fried in olive oil, mutton on wooden skewers, and countless tarts, large and small. Baskets of fruit, local and exotic, drew the eye, and there were so many different kinds of nuts on hand I couldn’t keep track. It was a dizzying assortment of food from all over the land, and an equally diverse group of people enjoying it.