Second Shadow - 2. The Rich man’s bluffs

The early morning breeze bit into Feinn’s skin despite his thick clothing and armour. The temperature had dropped far below freezing shortly before sunrise and the landscape was icing over. Feinn reached back to his longbow and adjusted its position to a more comfortable one. His green and brown foresters garb was still chafing against the bow and he adjusted it one more time to find that perfect spot for comfort as he walked along Anthir’s outside wall.

Feinn reached into his backpack and withdrew two apples, holding one in each hand and swinging his right arm back he said, “Hey, catch,” and tossed the green fruit towards Kurt.

Kurt turned to snatch his breakfast out of the air and smiled as he said, “Thanks.”

“We need to pick up the pace. We are still an hour’s walk from the east gate and the sun is rising,” said Feinn and he bit into the juicy apple. The sweet and sour taste stimulated his taste buds and soon saliva was coursing though his mouth as he chewed diligently.

“The man will wait. Whatever he needs done seems important to him. He went through far too much trouble to scout us for it to be some silly mundane task,” replied Kurt, tossing his apple up and catching it.

“I do not trust people like him. There is definitely something funny going on here,” complained Feinn before taking another bite.

“I never trust anyone Feinn,” replied Kurt, “It is a great opportunity to make some coin, but to be safe we should stash our valuables someplace before we meet the man.”

The walk around the outside of city was nearly twenty miles further than through the middle, but for a Stalker to travel through Black Wolf territory was suicidal. A war was raging and the Stalkers were at the disadvantage. Feinn had only joined the Stalkers to survive. There were no jobs for a ranger in Anthir and he found himself forced into thieving to satisfy even his most basic needs. As a thief, you had two choices: join the Stalkers, who had strict rules and regulations, strange if you considered that they were a den of thieves, or join the Band of the Black Wolf, who were no more than a murder of crows picking the flesh off innocents.

Feinn’s sense of law had never been strong but his sense of right and wrong was never in question. As a Stalker, he worked as a mercenary, guarding farmers harvesting their crops or escorting merchants through the city. He was not much for theft and robbery unless he knew the target was a rich bastard or a scoundrel living off the people.

Kurt on the other hand had less of a sense for who or what to rob, in his mind everything was fair gain. He had in fact become something of a kleptomaniac. He often felt the uncontrollable urge to liberate items of varying value from seemingly random targets.

The sun had finally breached the horizon when Feinn passed through the portcullis of the east gate. The guards at the security post simply nodded the two travellers on. No one would start trouble in this sector of the city. The duke kept the Market quarter and the Rich man’s bluffs well policed, so well in fact that the watch could not spare the men to patrol any other sectors in the city.

Feinn continued to walk casually scanning passersby from under his elaborately bushy hair. Merchants were assembling their tents and stalls for the day’s trade and Feinn caught a brief whiff of freshly baked bread coming from the bakery around the corner. His stomach rumbled and he had to force himself not to let his nose lead him. A dog barked playfully and ran past Feinn’s legs. A boy of around ten shortly followed hot on the animal’s heels.

Feinn cracked half a smile and said, “This part of town is almost pleasant.”

“Pleasant to any who can afford to live here and who can stomach all the pompous brass,” replied Kurt.

“True, but today the pompous brass pays our wage, or so you say,” said Feinn sceptically.

“Stop being so paranoid. If he is full of crap we can just rob one of those fine houses on the bluff,” replied Kurt.

“Have you lost your mind? The city watch would be on us so quickly we would look like spearmen’s practice dummies before we even turned our heads to notice them coming,” replied Feinn.

“Relax Feinn, I was just joking around.”

Feinn shook his head. They were coming up on the inner gate guarding the castle and the Rich man’s buffs. The duke was a vein self-righteous ass, but the man knew how to keep his gold safe. In years past, there had been many uprisings in this city, and as a precaution, a sturdy and well-guarded wall kept the nobility separate from the rest of the population. The duke also built a private harbour within the walls, should the need for a hasty departure ever arise.

Kurt walked up to the gatehouse and approached the two guards standing at attention. One levelled his spear in a threatening posture and the other bellowed the word, “Halt!”

Kurt stopped with Feinn nearly crashing into his back. He looked back in disgust and then raised his open hands in the air as he said, “easy gents, we have been summoned here by the resident of plot five.”

“Commoners are not permitted past this point,” replied the guardsman with authority.

Feinn sighed and dropped his head to look at his shoes as he kicked a stone away. The puff of dust caught a gust of wind and it blew off on a new course.

“I have this ring given to me as proof that I was summoned,” said Kurt as he extracted the silver ring from his pocket and showed it to the guard.

“Lord Verick summoned you?” asked the guard.

“Yes,” said Kurt hoping it was not a trick question.

“Very well, enter, but should there be any trouble with you two…” the guardsman did not need to complete the sentence for the consequences to be blatantly obvious. Everyone knew the watch in the Rich man’s bluffs would rather chop your head off and burn your body before they risked the effort of dragging you to the dungeon.

Kurt just nodded and smiled before grabbing Feinn by the arm and dragging him through the gate. Feinn felt somewhat insulted at the gesture but went along with it anyway.

Beyond the gate lay a majestic display of exquisite masonry. Cobblestone roads wound around massive white mansions, surrounded with lush gardens and ocean views. Feinn was not much for the high life but he had to admit that a small part of him would have loved to own just one wondrous palace such as these.

“Come along, we are already late,” said Kurt.

“I told you we should have walked faster,” replied Feinn.

Kurt just sighed and began to look around for some identification on which plot they were looking at. The first board on the left of the road said, “Rillian Family Home” and Kurt scratched his head.

“Which one is it?” asked Feinn.

“I don’t know,” replied Kurt, “Perhaps they are in numeric order, starting from number one here at the gate.”

“That would mean plot five is the furthest one from the gate,” noted Fein.

Without reply, Kurt began to march on, his pace now much faster than the casual stroll he had maintained up until now. The young man’s ring had proven to hold true on the first test. He was clearly all that Kurt had guessed and now the question was what this capper would be.

“Is that your man?” asked Feinn as he pointed at a slender young man with brown hair, dressed in fine clothing and who was speaking to a merchant on a wagon.

Kurt nodded a yes and quickly scanned the area. When he saw what he was looking for he turned off the road walking straight for some brush along the edge of the bluffs.

“What are you doing?” asked Feinn.

“Hiding our gold,” replied Kurt, “give me yours as well.”

Feinn handed over his pouch of gold and using one of his many hip-holstered daggers, Kurt dug a shallow hole just beneath the bush. He placed the two pouches in the hole and pushed the dirt over the lot.

Dusting himself off, Kurt said, “Ok, shall we?”

“You are the most paranoid man I have ever know Kurt, but yeah, we should move,” replied Feinn.

Kurt simply replied with a skew smile and began to move back to the road. Feinn followed in his footsteps, unsure exactly why he agreed to come in the first place. He so despised making the extra effort, but he had learnt that it was essential to earning acceptance. It was also the main reason he had been a loner for most of his life.

The young nobleman finished off his conversation with the merchant on the wagon and indicated with his hand that the man should disembark to rest inside. Several servants came rushing out to aid the merchant in his descent and carried his belongings into the mansion. The young man did not follow them in, but instead he slowly turned to look at Kurt and Feinn as they came walking along the path.

“You are late,” noted the man.

“It is a long walk to miss the black wolf territory,” replied Kurt, “Lord Verick?”

“Well deducted,” acknowledged Verick, “You are Kurt and your friend there is Feinn if I am not mistaken.”

Kurt gave a slight gasp and said, “How…”

“I have some deduction skills of my own,” replied Verick, “Now to the job at hand. You still want the job I take it?”

“We do,” answered Feinn who was anxious to get moving.

“Good,” replied Verick, “A certain Item of value has been stolen from me and I wish for you to steal it back.” Verick looked at their faces to gauge their reactions, but both remained blank in their expressions so he continued, “There is a particular member of the Band of the Black Wolf’s leadership who has this item in his possession.”

“What does this item look like?” asked Kurt.

“It is a golden ring with two rubies and a diamond. It holds sentimental value and some magical qualities. The man who has it is named Frederick Levy,” answered Verick.

“The Frederick Levy?” asked Kurt with wide eyes, “As in the Dock Side Butcher?”

“Good you have heard of him. In that case it will be easier for you to find the man,” replied Verick with a smile, “I want you to take back my ring and if the opportunity presents itself, I want you to bring me his head.”

“And what do we get in return for risking our lives?” asked Feinn.

“I will give you each one hundred gold pieces for the ring and an additional one hundred should you succeed in killing Frederick,” said Verick.

Kurt looked over at Feinn. The amount offered was two years worth of wage for the both of them. Kurt’s greed was definitely overcoming his fear of death and Feinn was busy contemplating their chances as well. With that sort of money, he could finally dedicate himself to his own task.

With a brief nod from Feinn, Kurt turned around to face Verick and said, “Very well, we’ll take your deal, but we ask a favour?”

“And that is?” asked Verick.

“Is your merchant friend heading to the docks by any chance?” asked Kurt.

Verick smiled and said, “He is.”

“Would you ask the merchant to allow us to accompany him as mercenary guards up to the docks? Walking into Black Wolf territory will be easier under pretence rather than just barging in on our own.”

Verick’s smile widened and he said, “Go recover your hidden gold and when you come back I will have the merchant ready to take you.”

A dumbstruck look flooded the faces of both men as they both tried to puzzle out the strange young nobleman, now walking away from them at a steady pace. He had to have eyes in the back of his head or perhaps he could read minds, but there was something about this man and it scared the crap out of Feinn.