Michael Sullivan: Avempartha

“I’ve heard about that place. It’s supposedly being attacked by elven raiders.”

“Oh, it’s not the elves. The elves have never caused us any trouble.”

“I knew it,” Royce said to no one in particular.

“Leastways I don’t think so,” Thrace went on. “We think it’s a beast of some kind. No one has ever seen it. Deacon Tomas says it’s a demon, a minion of Uberlin.”

“And your father?” Hadrian asked. “How does he fit into this?”

“He’s going to try and kill the beast, only…” she faltered and looked at her feet once more.

“Only you think it will kill him instead?”

“It has killed fifteen people and over eighty head of livestock.”

A freckle-faced woman with wild red hair entered the parlor dragging a short, pot-bellied man who looked like he had shaved for the occasion, his face nicked raw. The woman was laughing, walking backward as she hauled him along with both hands. The man stopped short when he saw them. His hands slipped through hers and she fell to the wooden floor with a hollow thud. The man looked from the woman to them and back, frozen in place. The woman glanced over her shoulder and laughed.

“Oops,” was all she could manage. “Didn’t know it was taken. Give us a hand up, Rubis.”

The man helped her to her feet. She paused to give Thrace a long appraising look then winked at them. “We do good work, don’t we?”

“That was Maggie,” Thrace told them after the woman hauled her man back out again.

Hadrian moved to the sofa and gestured for Thrace to sit, while taking a seat across from her. She sat gingerly and straight, not allowing her back to touch the rear of the sofa, and carefully smoothed out her skirt.

Royce remained on his feet. “Does Westbank have a lord? Why isn’t he doing something about this?”

“We had a fine margrave,” she said, “a brave man with three good knights.”

“Had?”

“He and his knights rode out to fight the beast one evening. Later, all that was found was bits and pieces of armor.”

“Why don’t you just leave?” Royce asked.

Thrace’s head drooped and her shoulders slouched a bit. “Two nights before I left to come here, the beast killed everyone in my family except for me and my father. We weren’t home. My father had worked late in the fields and I went to look for him. I-I accidentally left the door open. Light attracts it. It went right for our house. My brother, Thad, his wife, and their son were all killed.

“Thad-he was the joy of my father’s life. The reason we moved to Dahlgren in the first place-so he could become the town’s first cooper.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Now they’re all gone and my father has nothing left but his grief and the beast that brought it. He’ll see it dead, or die himself before the month is out. If I had only closed the door. If I had just checked the latch…”

Her hands covered her face and her slender body quivered. Royce gave Hadrian a stern look, shaking his head very slightly and mouthing the word “No.”

Hadrian scowled back and moved to sit beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and brushed the hair away from her eyes. “You’re going to ruin all your pretty make-up,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be such a bother. These aren’t your problems. It is just that my father is all I have left and I can’t bear the thought of losing him too. I can’t reason with him. I asked him to leave, but he won’t listen.”

“I can see your problem, but why us?” Royce asked coldly. “And how does a farmer’s daughter from the frontier know our names and how to find us in Colnora?”

“A crippled man told me. He sent me here. He said you could open the tower.”

“A cripple?”

“Yes. Mister Haddon told me the beast can’t-”

“Mister Haddon?” Royce interrupted.

“Uh-huh.”

“This Mister Haddon…he wouldn’t be missing his hands, would he?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

Royce and Hadrian exchanged glances.

“What exactly did he say?”

“He said the beast can’t be harmed by weapons made by man, but inside the tower of Avempartha there is a sword that can kill it.”

“So, a man with no hands told you to find us in Colnora, and hire us to get a sword for your father from a tower called Avempartha?” Royce asked.

The girl nodded.

Hadrian looked at his partner. “Don’t tell me…it’s a dwarven tower?”

“No…” Royce replied, “it’s elvish.” He turned away with a thoughtful expression.

Hadrian returned his attention to the girl. He felt awful. It was bad enough that her village was so far, but now they faced an elven tower. Even if she offered them a hundred gold tenents, he would not be able to convince Royce to take the job. She was so desperate, so in need of help. His stomach knotted as he considered the words he would say next.

“Well,” Hadrian began reluctantly, “the Nidwalden River is several days travel over rough ground. We’d need supplies, for what, a six-seven day trip? That’s two weeks there and back. We’d need food and grain for the horses. Then you’d have to add in time at the tower. That’s time we could be doing other jobs, so that right there is money lost. Then there is the danger involved. Risk of any kind can bump our price and a mass-murdering phantom-demon-beast that can’t be harmed by weapons, has got to be classified as a risk.”

Hadrian looked into her eyes and shook his head. “I hate to say it, and I am very sorry, but we can’t take-”

“Your money,” Royce abruptly interjected as he spun around. “It’s too much. To take the full twenty-five silver for this job, ten really seems like more than enough.”

Hadrian raised an eyebrow and stared at his partner but said nothing.

“Ten silver each?” she asked.

“Ah-no,” Hadrian replied, keeping his eyes on Royce. “That would be together. Right? Five each?”

Royce shrugged. “Since I will be doing the actual picking I think I should get six, but we can work that out between us. It’s not something she needs to be concerned about.”

“Really?” Thrace asked looking as if she might explode with happiness.

“Sure,” Royce replied, “After all…we’re not thieves.”

“Want to explain why we are taking this job?” Hadrian asked, shielding his eyes as they stepped outside. The sky was a perfect blue, the morning sun already working to dry the lingering puddles from the night before. All around them people rushed to market. Carts loaded with spring vegetables and tarp covered barrels sat trapped behind three wagons mounded high with hay. Out of the crowd in front of them, a fat man charged forward with a flapping chicken gripped tightly under each arm. He danced around the puddles dodging people and carts and offering a muttered “excuse me,” as he pressed by.

“She’s paying us ten silver for a job that has already cost us a gold tenent,” Hadrian continued after successfully skirting the chicken man. “It will cost us several more before we’re done.”

“We’re not doing it for the money,” Royce informed him as he cut a path through the crowd.

“Obviously, but why are we doing it? I mean sure, she’s cute as a button and all, but unless you’re planning on selling her, I don’t see the angle here.”

Royce looked over his shoulder, displaying an evil grin, “I never even considered selling her. That could defray the costs considerably.”

“Forget I brought it up. Just tell me why we’re doing this.”

Royce led them out of the crowd toward Ognoton’s Curio Shop, whose window exhibited hookahs, porcelain animal figurines, and jewelry boxes with brass latches. They ducked around the side into the narrow bricked space between it and a confectioner shop that was offering free samples of hard candy.