Vincent knew that men had a loose tongue for some very specific reasons. When they saw a pretty woman or man, even better if they got in their bed, or when they’ve had a few drinks down their gullet. That was what Vincent was trying to enforce when he brought the fourth round of drinks for him and the man across from him. Every town had a dusty bar. It was a funny constant.
He was a tan man, tall and skinny. Looked like a tooth pick with lanky arms and scraggly beard. He was probably as old as Vincent himself. But for such a skinny man he could drink. He didn’t have much or any definition to his body but hairy arms. As he raised the drink, spilling some down his front as he drank and laughed. “This is good ale! Haven’t had something with a bite like this in years.”
“Glad you like it friend. Now you told me that you had some information for me. I’m really curious as to what it is. Something about the mobilization of the Sanctum’s army.”
He wiped his mouth, pausing and dumbfounded before nodding his head quickly. “Yeah. That’s right. Fucking Sanctum. Holier than thou attitude. Just because they’ve got some kinda God on their side and that means they can just fuck with everyone else.”
He slammed the tankard down on the table he splashed the drink across it. Vincent, only on his third drink and just now starting to feel it, was annoyed by a waste of good ale and his money. So, he glanced his compatriot and smiled. “Yeah, fuck them. Arrogant stuffy pricks. But what are their actual plans. I’d like to really know where they’re going so, I can avoid them best I can right?”
He gave him a look for a moment. An unfocused cockeyed kinda look and then grinned. “If you ain’t for the Sanctum or one of their spiiesss then I’m good telling you what I found.” He stared at him with narrowed eyes and Vincent forced a smile on his own face. The contact he had was this man and sadly this was the contact of another contact. It was like mixing metaphors. It made sense in your head but in practice it was confusing and a pain.
So he raised his drink and dipped his head. “Well, Monica recommended me, didn’t she?”
“Yeah. She said you were a fox.”
“See! High compliment.”
“Loyal like a dog but crafty and not to be trusted.”
He made a face at that and didn’t know how to respond. “Fuck. Is she mad that I haven’t paid her back yet. I’m good for it. Or maybe it was that time in Paratuga.”
He drunkenly asked. “What happened in Paratuga?”
“That’s a story for another day my friend.” He raised his tankard and the drunken Free man clonked it against his own.
They both drank and Vincent had to quickly come up with a way for him to get the information. Though in retrospect maybe having gotten the man drunk wasn’t the right move. He was so used to just buying drinks whenever he met someone from the Free City. That’s what he did when he first met Samuel.
So, he surveyed his surroundings. It was the middle of the day. There were men drinking on what he could assume was lunch. The food at this inn wasn’t good, not even close but it was warm and could be eaten with a spoon and that was all he needed. Surprisingly there were quite a few men just there, talking loudly, mostly at the bar and venting. He didn’t think there were that many people who lived here, even with the beggers but maybe they were travelers like him. There were two corners that did catch his eye. A set of gamblers, a pair of women with cards and some old men with dice. He nodded slowly as an idea came to mind.
“You a gambling man? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.” He hoped he said yes and hoped he picked the old men. He had awful luck with women.
“Nicky. And I’ve known to throw the dice a few times. Why you askin friend?”
“Because well. You don’t trust me. Not entirely that is. And I need the information you have. So why don’t we let fate decide if you tell me or not.”
“What you mean roll the dice and see where they lie?”
“Exactly what I’m saying.”
He gave a slow rub of his beard and nodded his head. “Okay. I can enjoy a game of chance. And if the fates are on your side then who am I to withhold information from ya.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking!” he shouted and stood with a wide grin plastered on his face. The drunk were easy to lead but hard to convince. Something about horses and water.
So he moved from one area to the other, going from against the wall to the corner where two other men were lazily rolling dice back and forth amongst themselves. One of the men looked up at him with a scowl. “Sorry to butt in friends but my companion and I have a bit of a disagreement that only chance can decide. Mind if we borrow your dice and bowl?”
One of the old men grumbled and spat on the floor beside him. “Youngins. Thinking they know about fate and how to roll the dice. Wha you think? Let em have a few rolls.”
The other man snorted loudly and in such a way that Vincent had to not cringe away. “Give em a few rolls. Sort out their squabble and then we can get back to our own game.”
The other man spat again. Swished something in his mouth, probably tobacco if the color of the spit were any indication, and nodded. “Fine.”
The elder man, with shaky fingers pushed the bowl toward them, a trio of wooden dice resting within the center of the bowl. Picking them up slowly and feeling them out Vincent turned to face Nicky and offered the bowl to him. The man took the bowl and then glanced down at his predicament. The fact that he had two hands one with drink and the other with bowl but he couldn’t roll the dice.
“You roll em. I’ll watch.” He said giving the bowl back. Vincent made a face and nodded taking the bowl and dragged a table over to the old men’s table. They grunted at him still watched them with mild curiosity. He picked up the dice and jostled them slowly in his hand. Getting a feel for them he looked at the men.
“Alright Nicky. Here comes the important question. Odds. Evens. Or something more specific?”
Nicky looked at him like he had spoken some sort of riddle. He narrowed his eyes with a frown and then said, “Evens. Wait, what do I get if I win?”
Vincent thought about that for a moment. “I buy you another round of drinks.”
That answer seemed to be satisfactory. Vincent rolled the dice, letting them bounce and circle around in the bowl. Vincent was a seldom gambler except he rarely if ever actually gambled money. Just liked the thrill of a chance to succeed or fail. However, he liked to gamble in other ways while he gambled.
As the dice began to settle down he saw them go, a six, a four and another four. They settled together for one finally collision and he gave the bowl a shake. Not a heavy one but just enough to have them bounce together again turning one four to a five.
“Looks like odds my friend. So about that information huh?”
Nicky stared at the dice as if doing the math was difficult for him. He glared at them for a moment then shook his head. He looked straight at him with that same gaze. “Roll em again. Best of five.”
Vincent couldn’t tell if Nicky was suspicious of him or if it was the fact that he wanted to keep drinking. Probably leaning toward being an alcoholic though maybe it was all an act. Maybe Vincent was being sloppy with his manipulation on the dice. He’d have to try and do better. When the world stopped being a little slant wise.
“Fine by me. Friend. Best of five.”
Grabbing the dice between his fingers he rolled them to his palm. “Odds or evens.”
“You pick this time around.”
Vincent gave a small smirk. “Well, I’ve always liked to test the odds.”
So, he let the dice fall and rolled them. He didn’t have to tilt the bowl this time. Luck was on his side. A one, a three and a five. He glanced at Nicky and gave a wry smirk. “Nine.”
Nicky stared at him and then the dice again. His eyes were narrowed as he counted in his head and then looked at Vincent before taking the tankard to his mouth and started drinking again for a moment. A tense moment because his eyes never left Vincent’s during that moment.
Slamming the tankard onto the table he held out a dirty hand. “Give me the dice. I wanna roll.”
“What you don’t trust me friend?”
“Monica said not to trust you.” He said again and his voice sounded softer, a little confused.
He groaned and mumbled under his breath, “Course she did.” Reaching out he handed the dice over to the drunk. He fondled the dice staring at them as they rolled. Even as drunk as he was, he knew about getting tricked. Vincent made a face at that. He’d scammed other gamblers before but it was harder.
“Hey old guys. These dice loaded?” His slurring was getting worse now. He tilted slightly and had to slump near the tables.
The old men exchanged looks at one another, muted glares that turned into grimaces of effort. “I don’t thinks this old bastard even knows how to rig dice.”
“I could do it better than you. You can barely shit without help.”
Nicky ignored the old men as they started to squabble back and forth. Vincent extended the bowl and Nicky shouted, “Evens” as he let the dice just tumble down. Vincent watched the dice with a careful eye and resisted the urge to nudge the bowl. Mainly because even though that drunken eye was on the bowl it was also on him. The final result was a two, a five, and a three.
Nicky pumped his fist and grinned. “Hell yeah. Got it. That’s a round of drinks for me!” he said.
“Hold on there friend. You said best of five remember?”
He paused for a second and then gave a hesitant nod as he went back to his other drink. Tilting it back he chugged, and chugged, and chugged, until the thing was empty and he almost teetered out of his chair. “Roll em again!”
“You want me to do it?”
“I don’t care. Just get it over with.”
Vincent bowed his head, reclaiming the dice and finishing his drink. The two old men turned their eyes toward him, quitting whatever argument they were in for the moment. “Gonna assume the same call.”
“Roll it.”
So, Vincent did just that. Praying the odds were in his favor. He turned his hands and let the dice hit the bowl and roll around. They bounced, clattered and smashed together until their momentum finally slowed. A two, a two, and a one.
Vincent let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair. “Five. I win. Give me the information. Please.”
But Nicky had done the unthinkable in the time it took for the dice to roll. He fell asleep. Slumped forward in his chair looking ready to be shoved out of his chair at a moment’s notice. Vincent clasped his hands together and just stared at the man. “Fucking. Dammit.”
He stood in frustration and resisted the urge to kick the chair from out of the man for wasting his time and money. That was when he saw something. Saw what actually mattered to him. A piece of parchment sticking out the man’s back pocket. Blinking slowly, frustrated and somewhat drunk, he slowly stepped behind him.
He reached down and plucked the parchment free, holding his breath. Glancing at the man, who remained asleep he nodded slowly. “Thanks for the dice.” He said to the old men who waved him away and the pair went back to their own game.
Finishing his drink, he walked out of the bar and wiped his mouth with an annoyed scowl. Going straight toward the inn he climbed the stairs to their room and leaned his shoulder against the wall and was just in time to see his companions approaching the room. He looked at them with a chuckle and raised his hand as if he was still holding the mug.
“Hey there everybody. I see you went shopping. Good job. Glad I can count on you.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Ale drink.”
“I don’t care what kind of drunk you are. Why are you drunk. Did you get the information or waste our time?” She said scowling at him.
“Woah there. Chill the hell out.” He narrowed his at her and showed off the note that he’d taken from Nicky. “This. Hopefully. Has the information I actually wanted. “Now help me inside and to a chair.”
Morrigan scowled and glanced at Alistair. Alistair stared back at her but he knew that this knight would never back down or bend to him, just a mortal still coming to terms who he was on the inside. So, he sighed and walked toward Vincent grabbing his arm and helping him forward.
“You reek you know that.”
“I’m very aware but someone had to get the job done.” He laughed and Alistair rolled his eyes slowly as they walked into the room.
Alistair went to check on his sister who was still lying in bed. She didn’t look like she had moved or her position changed much. He checked her hands and her pulse. Her hands looked normal and her pulse was slow. “She hasn’t changed since you left.” Vincent managed to get out without slurring. “Both good and bad.”
Alistair looked at him with a small smile. “Thank you.”
He sat down in the chair and tried to get the paper out but instead he fumbled across his shirt and pants and instead a bunch of small metal rods clinked to the ground.
“What are these?” Alistair asked picking one up. It was about as long as finger but incredibly thin.
“I’m a Rogue remember? Never know when you’re gonna need a lock pick.” He fumbled and got the paper out. His eyes traced over the words though he wasn’t able to put them together just yet. Scowling he handed it over to Alistair. “Alright Alistair. Read this. I’m shit at it right now. Eyes won’t fucking focus.”
Taking the note, he glanced over it. It was a quick scrawl of words. “It’s just a lot of notes. Something about Paratuga and for you to not forget.”
He groaned very loudly. “Can we just drop Paratuga Monica. Seriously.”
Alistair was tempted to ask but he paused as he got to the point. “Wait.” He was quiet as he read and read and read again. “Are you serious?”
“What is it?” Morrigan asked with mild impatience.
“The Norian army has invaded the Sanctum territory. To combat these threats the Sanctum has dispatched some of their elite soldiers to meet and drive them out but open warfare has started. The mage hunters are going to be out in force. The odds of us running into them is higher.”
Vincent swore under his breath. “That’s really fucking problematic. We can’t go the normal path.” He put his head into his hands. “And with Alison unconscious we’re already slowed down.” He swore again. “We need to leave tonight. Stay off the main roads. Avoid towns to a degree. And hopefully not find another demon. Lovely. It’s barely noon.”
“Well sober up.” Morrigan said starting gather their things. “I need you to take care of the saddle bags. I’m going to summon Eaergo so he’s ready to be a beast of burden as well.”
“You talk so old fashioned.” Vincent said but she glared at him from aside. Raising his hands up he sighed. “I’ll get sober.”
“Good.”
After giving him water and some very dry bread Alistair, Morrigan and Vincent got to work in the stables, remaking the saddle bags they lost. Blaze was still a little spooked from the night before, almost any sound startling the creature. It took a comforting hand from Vincent to keep him calm.
“Come on you scary beast. It’s okay. Demons aren’t here.”
The horse turned to face him, throwing his head back slowly. However, he touched his face to his rider and Vincent nodded slowly stroking his head. Stepping away he went through the saddlebags hanging on the wall near the horse. He wanted to make sure that nothing was missing from the bags themselves.
Alistair looked at the pair of them and he smiled. “He’s a good horse.”
“The best. Though he’s a stubborn mule sometimes.” The horse protested at the accusation and Vincent rolled his eyes. “See?”
The twin reached into his bag producing an apple. Dark red and easily the size of his hand. Blaze’s ears perked up immediately and he stamped the ground. The horse nodded his head several times and Vincent watched him.
“You aren’t even remotely trying to pretend that you don’t want that apple.”
The horse snorted at him, eyes only on the apple.
“Fine. Go get it.” He reached up to his reins to untie them. Immediately the horse trotted over to Alistair who held the apple out for him. Blaze crunched on it immediately chewing slowly. The twin stroked his muzzle slowly and the horse closed his eyes content.
Vincent watched the two for a moment before going to the bags and shifting through their supplies. “We’re going to be able to rough it for a while with this stuff. You know how to hunt at all?”
Alistair looked at him from past the horse and gave a short shake of his head. “Not really. My sister was the hunter and I was the one who knew how to clean and cook it.”
“Wait, you actually know how to cook it? Not just putting it over a fire?”
He laughed. “That was the majority of what I did. Though I do know how to make some stews. I should have grabbed a pot and stand.” He swore at himself softly but Vincent waved his hand at him.
“It’s fine. We can make due with regular cooking. I can hunt. Pretty sure Morrigan can hunt as well. Though I swear they hunt people and drink their blood.” He held his arm over his mouth and hissed making a claw motion.
Alistair laughed and looked away to the bag, getting another apple for Blaze. Vincent laughed as he went to his own personal bag. Taking one of his maps out he looked at where they were and his face blanked as he started thinking over where they were and how their path was changing.
Dragging his finger across it he started mentally crossing out towns and villages. Rubbing his jaw slowly he scowled. “This is annoying. We’re going to be set back by at least three days if not more just trying to avoid the Sanctum.”
“You know if we were to run into the mage hunters. We could just kill them.”
Morrigan lead Eaergo into the stables and glanced at Vincent. The horse was silent as it padded forward, its eyes empty. Blaze turned to stare at the creature that looked like him except wasn’t anything like another horse he’d run into before.
“Yes, we could Morrigan but that’s risking a lot. I’m not jumping for joy at the idea of fighting the Sanctum. Especially this close to their territory. I’m a Rogue not a killer.”
“I don’t know the difference.”
“It means I’m not as blood thirsty as you apparently.”
She chuckled softly. “Was that meant to be an insult?”
“It was meant to be a statement of facts.”
“You’re trying to get a rise out of him.” Alistair said.
She looked at him, the amusement in her eyes still there. “Hm. I’m starting to like you more and more.”
The twin smiled, glancing away. Blaze pressed his wet muzzle against Alistair’s face startling him and make a noise of shock and disgust. “Come on Blaze.” He said with a deeper scowl and the horse made a noise that he could only call a laugh as it brushed against him again.
Vincent watched the two of them for a moment longer and then glanced at Morrigan. “You a superstitious person?”
She arched an eyebrow. “What kind of question is that?”
“Well the best place for us to go to isn’t exactly the most wholesome of locations. Locals think its haunted.”
“Haunted?” Alistair joined the three of them around the map. “You mean with ghost and spirits?”
“Yep. I don’t buy it but,” he shrugged. “I didn’t believe in demons either.”
“Is there no other place for us to go?”
“Not a lot of options with the Sanctum and Norians out there fighting. If we want to avoid them as much as possible, we may get pushed into places like that.”
Morrigan motioned for Eaergo to come closer as she took the saddle bag and slung it across his flank. “I still believe that we should just fight them if we do run into them.”
“Well that’s your vote. I vote against. Which leaves the deciding vote up to our mage.” Vincent looked at Alistair who didn’t look eager nor comfortable with a deciding factor vote. Glancing between the two of them quickly his first thought went to his sister.
“While Alison is unconscious, I don’t want to get into a fight and risk hurting her. And knowing her she wouldn’t want to get into a fight anyway. So avoiding conflict is my vote.”
Vincent nodded, satisfied. “Then let us be off. And hope that this whole thing about the village being haunted is just a myth.”
They ate one more meager meal in the inns first floor. Some kind of vegetable stew that was hearty and warm but lacking in overall flavor. Vincent ended up going to the stables, finding his personal collection of spices and passing it around to each of them which improved the meal by leaps and bounds. Still mediocre but not tragically so.
With warm food in their stomachs and their horses prepared they saddled up. Vincent tied Alison against Blaze to keep her from falling out of the saddle. Getting behind her he steered Blaze gently and glanced at his partners. Morrigan mounted Eaergo and Alistair directly behind her. He looked at Vincent and his sister and nodded.
Vincent took off with the setting sun behind him, the skies a beautiful purple, orange and red. But they were sadly riding against the sun and into the darkness. He had a rough idea of which direction they were going but he was constantly checking the map using Alison’s back as a stand of sorts.
They weren’t following the main roads and he had to keep his eyes out constantly. Any cloud of dust in the distance could be a group of Norian’s marching or a mage hunter stalking after weary travelers just in case they could be the enemy or worse a mage.
As they rode Vincent glanced back at his companions and sighed. “Alright guys. We’re entering Sanctum territory. Be on alert. More alert than normal. But also, we’re getting close to the ghost village.”
“What’s the village’s actual name?” Morrigan asked as she rode up beside him.
“Gaynz,” He said glancing at the map again and looked back ahead of them.
They road for little over a day before it showed in front of them. The ground was turning a bit greener showing. The trees they passed were sporting actual leaves instead of being the skeletons of one. The sun was at their back. In front, there was a sliver of light in the sky. A small slit of a smile showing that the moon was coming back and illuminating the land. Which didn’t help to make Gaynz seem less spooky.
The town had stone homes. How they were made Vincent couldn’t explain. They were only one floor affairs. Many of them had vines scaling the sides and roofs of leaves on top. Windows were broken and most doors were either hanging open or thrown against the ground itself. The place had seen better days. There was a well in the sort of center, the homes weren’t built in any convention shape he could figure out immediately.
As they trotted in, they passed under an archway where the name of the town would have hung. Glancing around slowly Vincent shuddered slightly and looked back at the pair of them. “So, homey place for us to rest right?”
“You could say that.” Morrigan said slowly and glanced back and forth. She seemed a bit more uneasy, sitting up in the saddle. Alistair was the same except his head was constantly turning back and forth. The shadows were long. The stars above were dim even without any torchlight around them.
“Something about this place feels off. Not good.” He frowned heavily.
They got to the center of the town and patted Blaze’s neck. The horse was nervous. “I owe you a bunch of apples and sugar cubes.” He said to the horse brushing its neck lightly. He had put the horse through a lot and he was going to put it through more before this was over.
Getting off and sliding down Blaze’s side. Patting the horse, he looked around slowly. “These homes are probably all abandoned. Do you guys want to see which one is the best to stay in for the night?”
“I think we should leave the homes alone. Camp outside and get out of here at first light tomorrow.” Alistair said going to his sister and untying her from the horse.
“Really? Think that the ‘ghost’ are going to get mad at us?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to tempt fate.” He said holding her and trying to find a decent place to setup camp.
“And what do you think?”
“I think we should setup a watch system.” Morrigan told him. “So, no one and nothing can chase us in the night.”
Vincent looked at her like she was crazy. But he sighed because she also made sense in the idea of being cautious. “Fine fine. Let’s go ahead and figure it out. I have dice.”
The Harlequin Library 