Jon Sprunk - Shadow's master

Then he spotted a group of five men in rust-red robes striding down the street toward them. People gave them a wide berth, slaves and warriors alike. The leader of the group walked with a tall black staff topped with a stuffed white bear's head.

“This way,” Shikari said, going to the mouth of a wide alley.

Caim took another look at the advancing priests, and then waved for his crew to follow the woman. With Hoek by her side, Shikari led them to an intersection, glanced left and right, and then crossed over to another alley. Caim wondered if he should stop her, but the second side street opened into a rough oval. Crooked buildings lined the large, open space. Raucous laughter and shouting emerged from some of the doorways, along with the smells of cooking.

“We should get indoors,” Shikari said, her eyes on Caim. “These are entertainment houses.”

He picked one establishment at random, and they followed a narrow lane behind the building to a courtyard. There were no stables, but twenty-odd horses were tied to posts driven into the ground. A lamp burned over a back door.

Caim let out a long breath as he dismounted. The muscles in his lower back were bunched up tight. As he stretched, Dray came over. Aemon's spear was in his hand. He carries the damned thing around like a holy relic. Caim took stock of the Eregoth, but apart from deep rings around his eyes and the tightness of his mouth, Dray didn't look much worse for wear.

“What are your plans?” Dray asked.

I wish I knew. “Right now, I just want something warm in my stomach. Then we can talk about plans.”

Malig pushed past them on his way to the rear of the building, where a wide door stood open. Caim checked out the outer wall as he went inside. He'd first taken the material for soapstone because of its grainy black composition, but it felt denser than that. Granite maybe, but granite was difficult to quarry. If every building was made from the same stuff, the amount of labor that must have been required was staggering.

They entered through a mudroom with cloaks hanging from pegs. Inside the establishment, a dozen smoky lamps illuminated a huge room filled with drinking, gorging, shouting Northmen. Most of the shouting was directed at an earthen pit in the center of the floor where two men circled each other. The shouts lifted higher each time steel clashed. Caim maneuvered through the crowd, drawing looks from the other patrons, to a small table set against a side wall. While the others tried to find a wench or serving man, Caim observed the crowd. There were a few outlanders sprinkled among the Northmen. Iron shackles hung from many belts in the establishment, along with an overabundance of weapons.

Though he couldn't see through the press, Caim guessed by the sudden rise in noise that the combat in the pit had ended. Cups were hoisted and knocked back as the Northmen drummed on their tables for more. Serving girls, some just children, in high-necked smocks and aprons filtered through the crowd carrying fistfuls of foaming tankards.

Caim didn't look at Shikari as she sat down next to him. He hadn't forgotten their strange conversation over breakfast, nor the fervent look in her eyes. The woman saw too damned much.

Malig and Dray reappeared with large mugs, but only for themselves.

“Thank the gods they have beer here!” Malig said as he took a long swallow. When Caim raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. “The wench said she'd send over some more.”

“And food, I hope,” Caim said.

Malig set down his cup, foam dripping from his beard. “So what are we going to do here, Caim? I mean, we don't exactly fit in.”

“On the contrary, I think we look the part down to our toenails.”

“What part?”

Caim ran a hand over his whiskered chin. He hadn't shaved in over a sennight. His clothes were worn and travel-stained. “Slave-catchers, down on our luck.”

Dray raised one black eyebrow. “I hope you're joking. We don't know the first thing about-”

“Slavka!”

Two northern women in brown leathers pushed through the crowd, each hoisting a foaming stein. Caim started to take them for barmaids until he saw the longaxe hanging from one's belt, and the other woman wore a pair of shortswords and at least five knives that he could see. Both had long hair that hung down in braids past their shoulders, one blonde and the other brunette. They might have been halfway fetching if not for the mannish garb, and the rune letters the brunette had tattooed around her left eye in blue ink.

The blonde axe-woman looked around the table and said something. Caim was about to shake his head to show he didn't understand when Shikari rattled off a phrase in northern.

The brunette made a deep noise that might have been a laugh. “Eregoth? You far way from home.”

“We are,” Caim answered. “Can we help you?”

“Mayhap,” the blonde answered, and winked at the other woman. “You just arrive in Braelsalr?”

“Maybe. What of it?”

The blonde woman elbowed her comrade. “Have you any to sell? We pay good.” She reached into her jerkin and shook something that made a metallic jingle.

“No,” Caim replied. “They all died on the journey. We're just staying a few days to restock before we go out again.”

The Northwoman clucked her tongue. “Poor luck. The next time you come in, you ask for Yersa and Grunhild. We pay you top coin, ya?”

Malig slammed his cup down on the table. “What if we want more than your coin? What if we want a gander at what's inside those tight pants?”

Not now. Caim had been afraid one of them might do something foolhardy. The blonde Northwoman laughed and said something to her friend, but the brunette didn't so much as smile. “Mayhap we cut off your little spear and make you eat.”

Her fingers tapped the pommel of one of her swords as she and her friend sauntered away. Caim leaned across the table, fighting the impulse to grab Malig by his face. “What the fuck is your problem? This isn't the time.”

Malig belched and turned over his empty cup. “I'm fine.”

“He's fine,” Dray echoed.

Caim rapped the tabletop with his forefinger. “I have to go out for a look around, and I need to know that you can handle-”

“I said I'm fine. Go do what you have to do.”

The owner of the establishment finally arrived with two young girls who delivered beer and meat stew-Caim didn't inquire about its provenance-served in bread trenchers. Caim remembered then that he'd given the last of his money to Egil, but Dray had some coin. The owner jabbered at them cheerfully in his language, and Shikari replied. They carried on a short conversation, at the end of which the owner nodded several times and left.

“What was that about?” Caim asked as they ate. The stew was piping hot and so good he wanted to cry.

“I took it upon myself to procure a place to stay.” Shikari pushed her plate away, and Malig snatched it for himself. “He only had one room open, but promised it was large enough for all of us.”

After they had finished, and Malig polished off a third cup of beer, they followed a serving girl with a lantern out the back door and across the courtyard to a smaller building. The inside was divided into a central common area and two private rooms. She led them to their door and handed over the lantern. When Malig asked her fee for staying the night, the girl left without giving any indication she'd understood his question.

Caim dropped his pack in a corner. The owner hadn't been lying. The room was large enough to sleep a dozen. Rope hammocks hung from wooden pegs on the walls. They looked inviting, but he was too anxious to sleep. While Dray kicked off his boots, Malig tried to maneuver himself into a hammock. Shikari picked a spot on the floor between two hanging beds and sat cross-legged, eyes closed, hands resting on her thighs. Hoek rested his bulk on an adjacent sling.