Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

Rivehn laughed. "So long as we got something going here, why not try to win your money back?"

Johastus lowered his mug, wiping foam from his lips with the back of his hand. "Depends. What are you suggesting?"

Rivehn glanced casually at Nightfall. “We toss coins. This time, odd side wins, and we’ll play for the three tossed coins."

Nightfall shrugged, followed by a nod to indicate that, although he found it an unusual gamble, he would play.

"I’ve obviously got some talent for being the odd side." Johastus smiled. "Let’s bet."

And they did. With Rivehn and Nightfall always claiming opposite tosses, Johastus could not help but match one of them every time. Occasionally, Rivehn allowed Johastus a win or a draw; but, as night faded into pre-dawn, the money had landed in three unequal piles. The smallest lay before Johastus, the largest at Rivehn’s hand.

Nightfall kept count of the coins, especially as the stakes turned from copper to silver. He estimated a one hundred thirty-five silver total when Johastus finally hurled his "last" coin to Rivehn. "Obviously, I should have said my prayers this morning. I’m out of some god’s favor." He rose, snatched a fur wrap from a hook near the door, scooped up his meager pile, and headed out into the night without bothering with parting amenities.

Rivehn kept his expression blank, giving Nightfall a conspiratorial wink. He gathered his own winnings into a bag, then unobtrusively started on Nightfall’s stack.

"Hey," Nightfall whispered, reaching to protect his money.

Rivehn shook his head stiffly, the gesture scarcely noticeable. "I need it all to split even. Remember where we meet. We’ll both take a long, slow route so no one follows." With a single gesture, he swept the last of the coins into the bag. "You can leave first and wait for me. It’ll seem suspicious if we go at the same time."

The swindler counted on Nightfall’s greed and fear of the law proving stronger than his doubts about Rivehn’s honesty. To create a scene here would surely reveal the scam to all present and earn hostility from every man who had lost a copper to Nightfall since his arrival in Trillium. Nightfall could not quell all of his concerns, however. The scheme had all the classic features needed for success: simplicity, duplicity, and a sharing of blame such that he could not report the crime to authorities without admitting his own guilt. Soon, Rivehn and Johastus would gather to split their take from him, little knowing their pigeon had plans to rob them of their cash and his own. He would have to trail Rivehn to make certain the swindlers’ dividing site had not changed. Now that Rivehn had nearly all of his money, he could not afford to make a mistake.

Nightfall headed out the door, trying to appear a bit too casual, for Rivehn’s benefit. Once outside, he sauntered into a nearby throughway then around to the back, where the exit from the inn rooms opened onto a cobbled road. Once there and alone, he scuttled toward an alley that would give him a reasonable view of both doors. He had taken only a few steps when the front panel swung open. Mally, the slave girl, scampered out. She froze for a moment in the doorway, moonlight plastering her shadow against the Thirsty Dolphin and fusing it with so many others.

Nightfall watched her, curious.

Mally glanced about furtively, pulling her thin, tattered dress close against the wind. "Sudian?” she called.

Nightfall cursed silently.

“Sudian, please. I need to talk. Please. I know you’re not far." She spun with the strange combination of grace and awkwardness that reminded him of Kelryn after too many shows and practices. Irritated by his new train of thought, he put it from his mind. Mally headed into the same throughway he had taken. "Sudian!” she shouted. "Sudian!"

Nightfall weighed the benefits of his hiding place against the risk of her alerting guards, Rivehn, Johastus, and Prince Edward. He reversed direction, headed past the back exit, and caught her arm just in front of the rear doorway.

Mally spun with a gasp. Up close, he could see that one eye had swollen shut and bruises marked her cheek and jaw in a line. Dried blood caked her nostrils. As she recognized him, relief softened her battered features. She hurled herself into his arms. "Oh, Sudian. Sudian, please. You have to get your master to buy me. You have to. Please."

Nightfall felt dampness through his tunic and hoped it came from tears, not blood. “Look, Mally. I’ll talk to you later. As long as you want. I have to do something important now.”

Mally’s grip tightened. Apparently, she had watched him from the back of the tavern for some time, waiting for her chance to catch him alone. Now that she had him, she would not let go so easily. "Please, Sudian. You’re my only hope. You have to help."

“Later, Mally.” Nightfall broke free of her grasp.

"No!" She seized his legs, twining herself around him. "Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me." She sobbed, irrational with pain and fear. One of her hands glided up to stroke his thigh.

Revolted as well as driven by urgency, Nightfall could not have responded to her caresses if he had wanted to do so. "Mally, let go. I’ll do what you asked. But if you don’t let go, my master won’t even have enough money to buy breakfast."

The back exit slammed open, and Amadan stood framed in the archway. Face buried against Nightfall’s leg, Mally took no notice. Nightfall went still, realizing he had no words to explain the situation in which he found himself, even should Amadan give him the opportunity. The merchant shuffled toward them, eyes narrowed, mouth locked in a grim line.

Nightfall had found himself in difficult situations before, but this was not a familiar one. As the demon, he would have ditched the slave in any way possible, even if it meant dumping her corpse to the cobbles. He would have run, a shadow quicker and more streetwise than any highborn man. Now, he froze, knowing whatever he did or said would reflect on the prince he had enslaved his soul to protect. No matter where or how fast he escaped, Amadan would know precisely where to find him. He doubted politeness would gain him much, but surely far more than insolent silence. And he needed Mally to realize the danger as well if he ever hoped to regain his freedom of movement. "Good eve, lord." He gave the most respectful bow possible with a woman latched onto his legs.

Mally looked up, and her face went bloodless. Even the bruises seemed to lose all color. Sobbing, she crawled back toward her master across cobbles that had to hammer and tear her knees. She groveled at Amadan’s feet, and he ignored her, his attention fully on Nightfall.

"What were you doing with my slave?”

Nightfall considered the answer long and hard, finding no response that would not sound snide. Edward’s endless lessons on etiquette had taught him that silence would not meet the merchant’s approval either, so Nightfall chose humility rather than a direct answer. He lowered his head. "My deepest apologies, lord. I meant no harm." He rolled his eyes in time to see Amadan’s hand speeding toward him.

The idea of allowing the merchant to hit him again rankled, but Nightfall knew etiquette demanded it. He could weather a slap if it ended the conflict quickly. As an added bonus, it might win Edward’s approval for himself and trouble for Amadan.

Nightfall tilted his head to spare his face. The warning glint of metal in Amadan’s hand came too late. The merchant’s fingers slammed against the side of Nightfall’s head, weighted by solid steel. The hilt of a dagger, Nightfall guessed, before light exploded in his head. He never felt the fall, only found himself sprawled and dizzy on the cobbles, Mally’s scream ringing through his ears. He caught a spinning glimpse of Rivehn leaving the tavern, and need forced him to bull through the vertigo. He managed to stagger to his feet.