Jon Sprunk: Shadow's master

As the rest of his crew entered, shaking the cold from their cloaks, and went to find a table, Caim headed to the bar. He held up a silver penny to get the attention of a tap-puller.

“Enka barush?” she asked as she plucked the coin from his fingers.

“We need rooms,” Caim said, hoping she spoke Nimean.

But the woman stared at him with a blank expression. Caim pointed to the ceiling and moved his fingers to mimic walking up stairs. The woman shouted something over her shoulder. A few moments later, an enormous man shambled out of a doorway behind the bar. Red-faced and stomach jiggling, he came over while the barmaid nodded to Caim.

“What you have?” the fat man said. “Eat? Drink?”

“Are you the owner?”

“Yes. What you want?”

“I need four rooms,” Caim said. “And a hot bath.”

The owner said something to a passing server, who babbled a response before plunging back into the crowd. While he waited, Caim gestured for a drink. As he was paying, a voice erupted next to him.

“Slavka!”

Caim turned to see a man gulping from a large horn. He was short for a Northman, standing almost even with Caim, and rather well-groomed in a brown wool suit under a rabbit-fur coat. He had a broad, fleshy nose and plump cheeks covered with scraggly black hair. He appeared to be alone.

“I drink to your health,” the Northman said with a brusque accent. “You are Hvek-lund?”

“No,” Caim answered. “From Eregoth.”

That's the story they had agreed upon on the road. They were all clansmen from Eregoth. Caim didn't really look the part, but the clans were diverse enough that the story should pass.

The man smacked his wet lips. “I am Svart.” When Caim gave his name, adding the surname of a minor clan, he asked, “You buy? Sell?”

“We're looking for a guide.” When Svart frowned as if he didn't understand, Caim added, “To go north.”

“Ah!” Svart tapped his chest. “Guide. Yes, I can do this.”

Caim reevaluated the man. Although Svart appeared to be in decent health, he didn't look like an outdoorsman. Caim started to leave the bar, but Svart hurried to step in front of him. “No, no. I introduce guide. For a price. You understand?”

Caim paused, now understanding. Svart was a sharper, a middleman with connections in this little hamlet. Precisely the sort of man he needed. “You know someone who can take us north?”

“Of course. I know everyone. I have right men for you.”

A serving woman came over with a foaming mug of ale. Caim accepted it and paid her. “Not men,” he said. “Just one guide. Someone who knows the land.” He took a sip. The malt ale was red and frothy, but better than he assumed it would be, considering the rustic atmosphere. “And he has to speak Nimean.”

Svart made a big smile that showed his ivory-yellow teeth and pitted gums. “He speak very good. You give me ten gold.”

Caim almost spit out his ale. “Did you say ten gold?”

“Yes! You give me. Guide come to you, take you anywhere.”

Caim considered punching the man in the face and calling it a day. If they were anyplace else, he might have. But he didn't want to get lynched his first day here. Svart was oblivious, smiling as if he were doing Caim a favor.

“I'll give you five,” Caim said. And when Svart's smile widened, he added, “In silver.”

Svart's face collapsed. “No! This will not do. This guide is the best! You won't find a better man in all Scyalla.”

“Five for you to introduce us. If that's not enough, I'll find someone on my own.”

Caim made as if to leave with his drink, but Svart's smile returned. “No, five is good. Yes! Five silver is good. You give to me, and I bring guide here to you.”

“I'll pay you when I meet this guide of yours.”

Svart gave him a sideways look. “You are very cautious, my friend. For you, I will do this. But don't cheat me, eh? That would be very bad.”

“When can you have him here? We want to leave as soon as possible.”

“Early I will bring him.”

As Svart slipped away through the crowd, Caim wondered how he would know the time when there was no sunrise. The serving man reappeared and beckoned. Caim put down his cup and followed him through the crowd to a decrepit wooden staircase at the back of the room. The man showed Caim a room on the upper floor. It was small and dusty, with the sod roof only inches above his head, but after more than a month on the road, it looked like paradise. It had actual beds with sturdy wooden frames.

Caim tossed his pack in a corner and began peeling off numerous layers of clothing. His cloak and jacket were battered and worn. His shirts were stiff with sweat, food stains, and grime. Two men entered with a large, sloshing tub. Caim found his belt pouch and flipped them each a copper halfpenny before he eased into the steaming water. He sighed as the heat seeped into his bones. The journey had been more arduous than he had expected. Eregoth seemed like years ago.

Caim closed his eyes and let the tension drift out of his muscles. Now if I just had a thick steak and something cold to wash it down….

Electric tingles across his left nipple made Caim open his eyes. Kit kissed his nose and sighed. She was straddling him, tracing the tattoo of interlocking circles over his heart with her fingertips. Caim sat up straight as some part of her lower body brushed against his lap. His mouth went dry as he looked her up and down. She wasn't wearing anything.

“Kit!”

She planted a kiss on his lips, and the feathery touch shut him up. It was like kissing the breeze, a very amorous breeze, but he couldn't deny that his body was responding. A warm flush flowed through him and pooled between his legs.

“I've been waiting until we could be alone.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “It's been agony.”

Caim reached out to stop her, but his hands passed right through her. He opened his mouth, and received a tiny shock as his tongue touched her glowing lips. For a moment, she almost seemed real, like an armful of water before it sluiced out of your grip. His heart beat faster.

Caim jerked his head back. “Whoa, Kit. Slow down.”

She kissed his neck and down to his collarbone. Her hands were wandering again. “Can you feel me, Caim? Am I real enough for you?”

“Kit, I'm not sure this is the best-”

She chuckled. “I'm sure. I want to.”

There wasn't much he could do to stop her. He was on the verge of just lying back and seeing where she took things when the door banged open. Candlelight and singing poured into the room ahead of three very drunk Eregoths.

“Slavka!” Malig shouted.

Beer dripped from Dray's beard. “What are you doing up here, Caim? You're missing all the fun.”

Kit giggled and tickled Caim's stomach. With a wink, she ran her hands lower.

Caim drew up his legs in the water. “I needed to wash off the road.”

Dray knocked back the rest of his cup and belched. “There's these girls downstairs. You won't believe the size of their-”

Aemon staggered against his brother, nearly knocking them both onto a bed. As he struggled to get loose from Dray's one-armed hug, he lifted his candle higher. “Quiet down, you two. Can't you see Caim's tired? Don't worry, Caim. We'll let you bathe in peace.”

“Fuck peace.” Dray turned his empty mug upside down. “I need a woman.”

Malig laughed. “Fuck sheep? I always knew there was something odd about you, Dray. Aemon, you brother says-”

“Shhh!” Aemon hissed as he tried to shoo the others out the door. “Sorry, Caim. You want…you want us to get you some food?”

Caim ran a wet hand through his hair. “I'm fine. I'll be down.”