35

San groaned as he opened his eyes. A foul sourness filled his mouth and his head was pounding with every beat of his heart. He groaned again and saw the beam of sunlight playing across his tattered coat.

Sunlight? San lay back his head, resting on something soft. What had happened? He remembered going to the fight club with Elgava and Bostarion, meeting Saggaris and then Densa, and then… nothing.

The familiar taste of alcohol and hangover were old friends. San lay there, thinking back on the month he had been fairly sober. He had drank bad wine, decent mead, and even his moonshine, but that had been a restrained drinking. He hadn’t indulged in the complete oblivion of alcohol since before he decided to go on his final hike.

He had a reason to drink his woes away then, to seek completely blackness in whiskey, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. He was in a new world, he knew his family awaited him, he had seen the spirits of the dead. They were out there, beyond his reach, but Mary had said they would be waiting. San took a long and slow breath, feeling his headache subsiding somewhat.

Although he had seen more horrors and terrors in the last week than he had in his entire life, San didn’t feel as if were effecting him. Although he didn’t know if that would change. He had finally gotten over the nightmares of the Nox attacking and killing him while he slept. There had been no nightmares of the battos, the white furred creatures, the scaled monster, or even Pivane’s strange death. He doubted he was getting desensitized to the death and horrors, but he didn’t know.

“You’re awake,” a voice said.

San turned to see Lady Densa standing within an open threshold fifteen feet from him. She was dressed in a simple yellow and white robe, her hair tied back with a long red and white scarf. San realized he was lying upon a cot, his pack, weapons, and armor all lying beside him against a plastered blue wall.

The room he was in was large and there were more figures occupying simple wood and straw cots. The occupants of the room seemed to be all of the same class, the poor. Somekind of boarding house?

“I think so,” San said. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He stared at Lady Densa, for some reason he felt nervous around her. Yet she only smiled back at him.

“Your friends are awake and they have found the people you are looking for. Pavano the Godseeker.”

“You know him?” San asked. He sat up, stifling the groan of his abused body. It was the first time he’d slept in a bed since… since Blackened Bridge. He shuddered at the thought.

“There are those that seek the gods on the roads, where it is said they often travel to meet mankind,” Densa said. “Godseekers are more common in the Empire, but you find them many places. We all have our sins that we want purged and it is said the gods will do so if you find them on the roads.”

San nodded, remembering what he had heard about Pavano. “Where are my friends… and uh… where am I?”

Densa looked amused by his question. “We are in Senta’s House, Sanjay. Your friends had found other accommodations for the night and Saddan didn’t want you to pass out in his establishment, for there are thieves that would gladly take all you had upon yourself.”

A spike of panic filled San as he realized he was carrying everything of value on himself. The gems, his weapons, and all the tools and items he had brought from his own world. He glanced back at the pile of armor and pack.

“All is well, Sanjay, “ she said. “I do allow theft in this place. All your items are still there. Worry not.”

San only nodded. He trusted her.

“Uh… I’ll see my friends now, if I may.” San said.

Densa nodded and beckoned him to follow her. San stumbled as he took his first step, but weighted himself. His head was aching again and he had a desperate need to clean his mouth and drink some water.

They walked down a neatly swept corridor, plastered and painted with iconography of a bare breasted woman enveloped in a golden halo. There were different images of her; one where she was breastfeeding ill men and women, another where she poured wine for elders, and one where she had a sword in her hands and the dead piled at her feet.

It was Senta, San understood, and it seemed her domain spanned the spectrum. Bostarion had stated the Senta Cult was quick to draw the sword. He glanced at Densa and wondered if she would go on crusade for her cult. She had to have levels if she was the High Healer of White Tower. That would mean she was strong, fast, and tougher than everyone, depending upon her levels.

“Hetvana’s cunt, lad,” Pavano said, seeing San. “You got some kind of luck, don’t you?”

“Pardon?” San asked. Densa frowned at Pavano’s words.

Pavano, Bostarion, and Elgava all sat at a stone table, a bowl of porridge before them and a cup of sour wine. Bostarion and Elgava looked like San felt, their eyes were red and they winced as Pavano spoke loudly.

“You go off to fight battos and come back to tell about it. The first night you’re in White Tower you meet and befriend not only Lady Densa, but Saddan Hion, not to mention walking away with nearly five hundred sars of his money.”

“It’s good to see you Pavano,” San said, with true feeling. The old man scowled, but grinned at the greeting. “What’s this about five hundred sars?”

Elgava plopped a heavy sack on the table. “It seems I turned your twenty sars into five hundred last night,” she said. “Even after buying an amphora of wine.”

A teenage girl interrupted their talk as she brought two bowls of porridge and two cups of wine for San and Densa. They joined the group at the table, San’s mood lightening as he saw Pavano. The old man was moving fine and seemed healthy and unhurt.

The damage to the komai and the death of the grazers had troubled San for days now. He didn’t know the story there or even if Ilagio had mistreated his friends. Yet, if Pavano looked fine, his clothing seemed new, and he wasn’t sickly or still injured, then the others surely would be in good health also.

“Well, Elgava did all the betting and it was Saggaris that gave me the twenty sars and introduced me to Saddan,” San said. He watched as Densa bowed her head and prayed before eating her own food. He dipped his spoon into the bowl and ate the meal, it was simple porridge without flavor or additions. The wine was more of the cheap vinegar wine beloved by all. He supposed a bit of hair of the dog would ease his hangover, but from the pained looks of Bostarion and Elgava, maybe he needed something stronger.

“Ah, Saggaris.” Pavano shook his head. “Well, that’s one lass you don’t have to worry about,” he said. “Her deal is done and the Baron knows who you are now. He can’t go about hanging the man who helped destroy a batto nest.”

“Cool,” San said blandly.

“Although she is profit driven, Saggaris is not a terrible person,” Densa said. “She does what she needs to for the Barony and believes in its survival.”

San didn’t mention the deaths of the trappers that had seen the gold that the caravan was carrying. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but that was a bit of information that wouldn’t do anyone any good. It would just make him a target and anyone associated with him. He met Pavano’s eyes and the man gave him a nod.

“Well, that’s fine. I don’t think we’ll be dealing with Saggaris anymore,” San said. “I just happened to run into her last night. She refunded me the sars I paid for passage to White Tower.”

“Twenty sars?” Pavano asked and then chuckled over his wine. “You poor lad. Twenty sars would have got you food, wine, a ride on the wagon, and a warm spot by the fire.”

San shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. He brushed away thoughts of Saggaris. She had her own thing going and he wasn’t about to deal with her anymore. “What of Azios, Endaha, and the children?”

“Ah, they’re fine, lad. Azios is keen to show you the city and the wee Kovass is coming along nicely. I got them set up in a good place, away from all the foulness of the city. That link fetched a good price.”

San felt another weight slide off his back. He straightened up and grinned at the table.

“Your family?” Densa asked.

“The Exonaris family,” San said. “Pavano and I have been keeping an eye upon them until the Landed komai returns from the war with in Sentari.”

“Ah,” the woman smiled. “That should be soon, I hear.”

‘Oh?” Pavano tilted his head at her.

“I have heard that last weekthe Barons have crushed the Suvanna invasion force. The Nox Mercenaries have been defeated and the threat of other Baronies to Suvanna’s borders is forcing them back to their lands.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“So the war is over?” San asked.

“It’s wrapping up,” she replied. “Soon Sol Savanis’ sons and daughters will be returning, perhaps in time for Midwinter’s Reprieve.” She sighed. “Although there is the price to pay for the war, in dead and injured.”

San and the others sat there silently.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” San asked. Pavano stifled a groan, that was echoed by Elgava and Bostarion.

Densa smiled at him, seemingly radiating a glow around their table. “You are kind, Sanjay. Senta’s blessing is upon all those that wish to help their fellow man, even Adventurers in the service of Corvanus are welcomed to lend their expertise and services for the those less fortunate.”

“Once the lad has been reunited with the Exonaris family and taken a proper bath, then he shall gladly devote his time to the Cult, Lady Densa,” Pavano said. “I fear the reek alone will drive many to use Senta’s name in vain.”

Densa laughed. “I shall await your arrival, Sanjay. The world needs more men and women who are willing to lend a hand. There are many who have had misfortune fall upon them, from war, disease, bad weather, or just sheer accidents. The war, the blockade, and now these encroaching monsters has not made anything better.” Densa turned to everyone. “I thank you all for what you have done, for destroying that foul nest of monsters and coming back alive. Senta’s Blessing on you all.”

A golden light blossomed from Densa’s hand and enveloped them all. San felt the pain, aches, pains, and minor injuries all fade away. He felt suddenly fully awake and ready to do anything and everything that needed doing.

“Holy shit,” San muttered, taking a sudden long breath. He felt great.

“Thank you, m’lady,” Elgava said, solemnly. “You honor us with your blessing.”

“Aye,” Pavano said, looking shocked.

“Could’ve done it sooner,” Bostarion muttered finishing his wine.

“Thank you,” San said. He clenched his hands. “This is amazing.”

“It is one of my Powers,” Densa said. “It removes all the pain, injuries, and minor aches from the body.”

San wondered if the old healer back at Forest River could have done the same thing. He was so lost in that thought he didn’t see as a troop of armed men walked into he cafeteria. They spotted Densa and approached.

“My apologies,” Densa said, standing up. “But I have business with the Baron and the Guards.”

“The Foreinger comes with us too,” one of the soldiers said.

San looked up surprised.

“Why?” Pavano demanded.

“He’s a foreigner, he’s got no rights here. We can do whatever the hell we want,” another Guard said. The Head Guard hit him in the shoulder with the back of his hand. The loud thunk filled the room.

“Watch your mouth before Lady Densa,” the man said. He looked to Pavano, seemingly ignoring San. “We have our orders.”

“I’ll come,” San said. He looked to Pavano and the man nodded.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you, lad.”

“My gear,” San said and Pavano nodded again.

“Come on, now,” the Head Guard said, annoyed at the delay. “Lady Densa, its an honor. You might remember me, I’m Koval Bikeel, we met at the the Harvest Ball.” The man jutted out an arm for her to hold.

The teenage girl that had served them returned, she carried a cloak and a satchel for the healer.

“Ah, yes,” Densa said. “Did that rash clear up?”

***

“You look like shit,” Havatair said as San entered his office. The big man sat at a long table, wearing heavy robes edged with fur and a giant copper mug of something steaming beside him. Beside the big soldier sat the overweight man San had seen the night before. One of the Young Baron’s advisors.

“Smells like it too,” the overweight man stated.

San stood there, not responding to the comments. There was little that he could do now and it wasn’t as if he’d been expecting to see Havatair or the advisor that morning. His plans had been finding the Exonaris family and finally taking a bath or something similar, even if it was just a quick dunk into the Red River.

“I’m oddly relived,” Havatair said. “I lost the bet that you would go find that Tribal girl, instead like any man who’s been out in the world too long you went to a fight club and got drunk. You can’t trust a man who doesn’t look to get drunk and try to fuck someone after coming back from the Barren North.”

“So you didn’t trust me before?” San asked.

The overweight man snorted, casting a look at Havatair. The big soldier only grimaced.

“Being level headed is all good and fine,” the overweight man stated, “but to err is human.”

San didn’t say anything again, just watching the men. They had brought him here for a reason and it wasn’t to discuss the night he and the others had indulged in. San still felt slightly sick, even the cold walk to the keep hadn’t been a cure for his hangover. Although the cup of wine had helped.

“We want to sign you up,” Havatair said. “Good pay, a hundred sars a month, food, lodging, we’ll even have an enchanter take a look at your sword to see it’s status.”

“No,” San said.

“You’ll be making a fortune,” the overweight man said.

“I understand, but I still have to decline.”

“Why?” Havatair demanded. “You’re a foreigner here, lad. Rights and protections don’t apply to you. Take up a position in the Guard for a decade and you’ll be a citizen and Landed when you’re done.”

“I don’t wish to be a solider,” San said. “I understand the need, but I’m not a solider.”

“You leveled up, since the last time I saw you,” Havatair said. “That means you took gems from the void horrors you killed.”

“I had my own gems,” San said.

“And you never took them?” the overweight man scoffed. “No one just saves gems for later.”

“Gems what saved Elgava’s and my life,” San said.

“Fucking leveled healing,” Havatair grunted. “Stealing from the Baron is a hanging offense, son.”

“I didn’t steal from anyone,” San said. “What I used was rightfully mine.”

A silence hung in the room as the three looked at one another. Finally the overweight man simply nodded.

“He’s telling the truth or as far as I can tell.”

Havatair grunted again and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his steaming mug and drank a long pull from it before letting out a steamy breath.

“That Courage you cooked up,” he said finally. “Can you make more of it?”

“I believe so. It’s a Power, I think.”

“You think?” the overweight man asked.

“It seems you can tell if I’m lying or not,” San said to the man. “Am I lying?”

“No, but your thoughts are muddled about it, I don’t believe you don’t understand what Power you have.”

“I don’t,” San said. “I know I am a Brewer and if you want me to brew you Courage, then all you have to do is ask and I will sell it to you.”

“Sell? We’re at war, lad. We can make you make it,” Havatair said.

“I hear the war is ending,” San replied. “The Nox have been beaten, Suvanna didn’t break Sentari and Savanis; now with Midwinter’s Reprieve coming and after that, the heavy snows, they can’t do much until spring.”

“Who have you been talking with?” the overweight man demanded.

“People talk, especially when they drink,” San said. “A lot of high ranking people like watching people beat the hell out of one another.”

Havatair chuckled at the overweight man. “Your people leak like a sieve, Donsval. And you thought my men would go babbling if they heard the news.” Havatair looked at San. “You’re right, lad. The war with Suvanna is winding down. They couldn’t take the High Pass and with the heavy snows coming, they’re heading home with thier dicks in their hands. The Baron will be back soon and life will go on until war starts up again in the spring. Suvanna wants that pass and control of the gold mines in Sentari. They won’t let this minor defeat keep them from trying again.”

“So you’ll need me to make this Courage by the time the fighting begins again?” San asked.

“I would have preferred you be inducted into the Guards and fight with us. With your levels, we’d have made you a junior officer.”

“I’m a bit old to be junior anything,” San said.

“Corvanus Laws,” the overweight man, Donsval, muttered. “The Cult of Corvanus forbids us from forcing those who fight the void horrors into joining national militaries. You might be a foreigner, but that law still applies.”

“Cool,” San said. “So I would have had to volunteer?”

“Yes.”

“And the whole lack of rights and protections thing?”

“Oh, that is true. You’re not a citizen,” Donsval said. “Anyone would be able to do anything they wanted to you and they would not be subjected to the law.”

“If they could do something to me,” San said.

Havatair chuckled again. “Aye, if they could.”

“And this Corvanus Law? How does that apply to me?” San asked.

“You and the others killed the batto queens,” Donsval said. “Histoa wrote up the report and cites you heavily as being essential to the success of the operation. As a destroyer of void horrors and having levels, you technically apply as an Adventurer.”

“Foreign Adventurer,” Havatair clarified.

“But the Sol Suvanis Barony appreciates and respects all of Corvanus’ followers and Adventurers,” Donsval said in a monotone voice. “Therefore we are willing to cede Corvanus’ protection upon you for as long as you stay in White Tower.”

San frowned, disliking their method of making a deal. The Guards had threatened him when they arrived, then the same by the two men before him, and then came the semi-bribe to join the Guards. He knew they wanted him to make more Courage and their method of getting him to work with them was to threaten him again. Then offer the carrot of being an Adventurer and being protected by Corvanus’ Laws. They hadn’t managed to get him to enroll in the Guards and now they were trying to get him to sign up with the Corvanus Cult like Elgava had to.

He had grown up very irreligious and the thought of devoting his life to some foreign god in a strange magical land did not sit well with him. He didn’t know what being a Corvanus follower entailed, but San knew it wasn’t for him. Elgava might be fine with it, but she grew up in this land. It was her decision. He was barely being given one as it was.

“I’m not an Adventurer,” San said. “I’m a Brewer.”

“So you’ve said before,” Havatair sighed. “We’re just trying to look out for you, lad.”

“I’m sure,” San said. “I have something you want and you’re trying to secure it, to keep it under your thumb, right?”

Donsval nodded.

“Then just ask me,” San said. “I’m not going anywhere for a while. I came here to make sure the Exonaris family and Pavano made it here fine. You want me to brew you Courage, then give me coin and the rights to set up a brewery.”

“A brewery?” Havatair looked to Donsval.

“You’re the government here. The Young Baron for all his title and heritage doesn’t make the rules. You can give me what I need to start brewing you Courage. Pavano says that the drink is like some of the potions that the Cults make, if that’s the case then it’s something that people will want to get their hands on. How long do you think it’ll take for word to spread about it? How long before they see that there’s a new and strange brewer working in the keep? How long before they act to sabotage or destroy your ability to make more?”

“And you think by allowing you to do it on your own, without any obvious signs that we’re working together, you’ll go unnoticed?” Donsval asked.

“It’s my life,” San said. “You’ll get what you want and I won’t get killed by spies.”

“There are no spies here,” Havatair said.

It was San’s turn to chuckle, it was also joined by Donsval’s.

“How would you go about this?” Donsval asked.

“I’m a brewer. I can smell the wine from here, everyone likes to drink alcohol” San said. Havatair looked into his cup. “I’ve got a new drink from my homeland, moonshine. I’ll set up a distillery to make it, then you’ll buy several gallons of it a month, and it’ll just look like the higher ups in the keep like the beverage.”

“And you’ll be able to hide that fact that you are brewing this Courage?” Donsval asked.

“It’s similar to the distilling I’ll be doing anyway,” San said. “No one would be able to tell if I’m making moonshine or Courage.”

“And you have people you trust to help you?” Havatair asked.

“Yes.”

The two men looked at one another for a moment. Donsval leaned back in his chair. “How many gallons a month do you think you’ll be able to make? How long will it take to set up?”

San stilled his face, to hide his smile. He had awoken with a hangover and now it looked like he was going to open a brewery and distillery.