Tom did his best not to sigh. Eubexa was so paranoid about touching anything, that Tom simply held her. She barely weighed anything. The small elf was having a lively conversation with Sage Booker. Tom wanted to sigh because he was a little bored, but absolutely did not want to reveal that to Eubexa—she probably would clam up at once. So, Tom waited.

Sage called for four different books while they talked. Eubexa was asking about Kataroche, and also about the history of the wars with demons in human lands. Each time a book arrived, they took a break. Tom would sit at a table with Eubexa on his lap, so that Eubexa touched nothing, appeasing her fear of contaminating others.

Diavla would open the book and turn pages, holding it up so that Eubexa could see. The elf read quickly, and often had Diavla skip pages while she hunted for information. Tom knew this could take a while.

Four times they did this—a conversation followed by Sage recommending another book. The fourth one apparently had the title On Fighting Demons, and Eubexa stopped skipping pages. “Master, if they have any copies of this book to sell, you should probably buy one.”

“It's good, then?”

“It's a detailed account of the day-to-day work of demon hunting, told to a scribe by Sir Kurt of Briarwood.”

Tom startled slightly. “Sir Kurt wrote a book?” If he fought demons last time, he was older than I'd thought.

“You knew him?”

“Briefly.”

“Wait…Sir Kurt was the leader of the caravan guards that you started with? Your former boss?” Eubexa realized, speaking quietly.

“Yes. He was a great fighter and teacher. It doesn't surprise me much that he wrote a good book, now that I think about it. All right, Eubexa, if you'll read it to me, I'll gladly buy that one.” Tom felt a lump in his throat, just for a moment, at the unexpected opportunity to learn a little more from Sir Kurt, even at a remove.

“Of course, Master.”

“What's in it?”

“It's basically a manual—a handbook for good and bad things to do while fighting demons. I wouldn't be surprised if they use this book to train young knights in case of future need.”

“What about the others?”

Eubexa hesitated. “Are we leaving Rivermarch today?”

“Tomorrow,” Tom decided. There was still too much to do. Plus, it will get us time for one more round of healing at the Temple for Eubexa before we set out.

“Then, if we could borrow this book, The Lands of the Kataroche, I will do my best to read it tonight.”

“Are there more books you want to look at?”

“None that I can find without telling Sage more than we should,” Eubexa said, so quietly that Tom had to ask her to repeat it while he listened more carefully. Then he grunted an acknowledgement. Eubexa said something to Diavla about leaving that Tom could almost follow. I need to keep practicing my Elvish.

They brought the books in question over to the book seller at the counter. It turned out that they did have copies of On Fighting Demons for sale. Tom handed over three gold, and they walked out with the two books, one purchased and one borrowed.

Never thought I'd own a book, Tom mused. Life is full of surprises.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

It was past noon, so Tom brought them by vendors for hot food on the way back. Diavla had to carry a large, shallow, woven basket filled with meals. “Sorry to make you carry that, Diavla, but my arms are full.” Eubexa translated. “Actually, could you teach me those words? I need to practice.”

“Certainly, Master. If I may break it down a little more simply?”

“How do you mean?”

“Shorter sentences.”

She doesn't mean prison, right? “What do you mean, ‘sentence’?”

Eubexa paused. “A statement, that stands alone.” When Tom nodded, she continued, “What you had me translate was one big complicated sentence. I want to rephrase it as smaller statements, because those are easier. Putting together a big sentence has some subtleties that we might want to save for when you have more words, Master.”

“All right. Tell me in Western, then teach me the Elvish.”

Eubexa cleared her throat. “ ‘Diavla, you carry the food. I am sorry. I want to carry the food, but my hands are full.’ Is that acceptable?”

“That's just fine.”

“All right. First, we say…”

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

The language lesson lasted the rest of the way back to their rooms. None of the others had returned yet, which worried Tom. It shouldn't take this long to run a few errands.

Eubexa told me that Varga was running off on her own business besides stopping at Whistler's with a message. That “business” is probably either gambling or flirting. Well, if she isn't back by evening, I'll ask the guard to keep a look out for her. And possibly Edge.

Orvan and Kervan should have been back by now, though. I wonder if I should—

“Master, the men are returning.”

Tom looked at Eubexa in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I can hear them.”

Tom listened intently. After a few moments, he could hear someone open the door on the first floor. Their ears really are that good. Soon, he heard one set of footsteps coming up. He got up and walked to the top of the stairs, wary.

It was Orvan. He had a cut on his forehead and looked dirty, as if he had rolled on the ground. “Tom,” he began, then paused for a breath after the climb. “Kervan. Guard,” he got out, and pointed downstairs.

“Are you all right?”

Orvan gave a smile and waved a hand dismissively. He pointed down again. Trusting him, Tom hurried down to the first floor, hearing someone's footsteps a ways behind him. Outside, he found Kervan, looking much the worse for wear, and a vaguely familiar guard…Ralph's partner. Finch. That's his name. Vinder Hall was also present.

“Hi. Finch Guard, right? Tom Walker.” He offered his hand and Finch shook it briefly. “What happened?”

“Mr. Walker. Your man, Orville, hollered for help on Market Street. When I answered, he led me into an alley, where this guy was on the ground, and someone was fleeing the scene. I gave chase, but lost them in the crowd on Artisan Way. When I doubled back, a different fellow was starting to shove Orville around, and I made that man clear off once I realized that he wasn't with the original attackers. I'm hoping you have someone who speaks Elvish, so I can get their side of the story? I was going to take them both to the Guardhouse but they urged me to come this way.”

“Why didn't Kervan…? Ah.” Tom beheld Kervan's swollen jaw and the way he carefully wasn't moving it. He also had a black eye and a cut on one cheek. “Gotcha. Thanks for bringing them. I'd better get them to a healer after this. Let me see if…” Tom trailed off as Diavla hopped lightly through the doorway to land beside him.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Hello, Guard,” Diavla said with a bow. “Orvan say, three man, um,” she punched one fist into the other palm, “Orvan and Kervan. They,” she made a pulling motion, “to…,” she paused, then held her hands up, flat, and close together but not touching. “House, house…?”

“Alley. They pulled Kervan and Orvan into an alley,” Tom interpreted.

“Thank you, T—Master.”

Kervan started mumbling, and Diavla actually leaned closer to hear him. “Kervan say…bad man get…one gold, three tens silver, and bag with six tens silver, um…in book?”

“Paper,” Kervan managed to mumble.

“Paper,” Diavla repeated. Kervan mumbled some more. “Kervan think. Kervan say man say.” She beckoned the humans closer.

Kervan took a deep breath, then said in a gruff tone, “ ‘You say a way fun human women, oral cut your tiny pecker off.’ ” Tom got it, but Finch needed a moment. The humans shared a grim look. I'll have to explain it to the elves later, Tom thought.

“So, he was targeted,” Tom said coldly, thinking. “Not sure how many people knew what Kervan was doing with his nights. Finch, you know a man named Edge, hangs around The Floating Duck?”

“Sure do.”

“You might ask him if he has any ideas. Edge has been very helpful, and he would know the most about who was aware of Kervan's activities.”

“I'll do that. Sorry this had to happen to your man. I'll see who sells paper in the next few days, too.”

“They've cost me a couple of gold, probably three after the healer. That's not a small amount. I'll post a reward of fifty silver if it helps.”

“It often does. Look, you probably don't want to let your slaves wander around with gold coins in the city…”

Tom nodded. “Lesson learned.”

“Tom,” Diavla cut in, then winced. Apparently deciding not to correct herself, she pressed on, “Kervan need Temple. I and Kervan go?”

Tom nodded. “I'll take you.”

Diavla shook her head. “Tom, you need do things, one, two, three. I want big time Temple, too. Guard help us go, please?”

Tom looked at Finch. “Are you headed that way?”

Finch shrugged. “I can walk them there. Least I can do, after I didn't catch the thieves. Sorry about that.”

“Thank you.” Tom turned to the elves. “You go with guard to Temple. You stay at Temple until I come get you. Understand?”

“Yes…Master.”

“Orvan go?”

“I think no, Master. He not big pain. I help, physicker, tonight.”

Tom sighed. “All right,” he said with reluctance. “I was going to take you guys to get weapons, next.”

“You do. Orvan know I want.”

Tom glanced at Kervan. The beaten elf waved a hand in dismissal, then patted his side, where he had at least one dagger than Tom knew of. He thinks he's all set. Well, we can always buy him something in Oak Mill, too. It's not as if daggers were rare.

Tom heaved a sigh. “All right. Thank you, Finch.”

“Happy to help. Come on, you two.” The guard walked slowly, checking to see that they were following and Kervan was keeping up. Tom watched them go with misgivings, but he needed to trust people like Finch. There's too much to do, if I want to get us out of the city tomorrow.

Vinder Hall nodded politely to Tom, and went back inside, seeing that he wasn't needed. Tom appreciated that the little person had made himself available. Upstairs, Tom found Orvan patching himself up and chatting with Eubexa. He explained the situation.

“Well, if they trust me to make choices for them, I'm in good enough shape to go weapons shopping,” Orvan told him through Eubexa.

“Eubexa? Are you all right on your own for a while?”

“Of course, Master. I'll be reading The Lands of the Kataroche.”

“Good. If Varga comes back, tell her not to go anywhere without an escort. We'll be back as soon as we can.”

“Very good, Master.”

Tom and Orvan headed for a weapons shop Barron had recommended. However, on the way there, Tom spotted a sign with a drawing of a gemstone on it. He reached for his poor Elvish, since Orvan had little Western, as far as Tom knew.

“Orvan. First, we go here. Next, we go get weapons.”

Orvan looked unbothered and simply nodded. Tom led them inside. A short, balding man sat behind a counter. All the wares were behind him. A beefy guard stood in one corner, watching them carefully. Tom gave him a respectful nod, then approached the jeweler.

“Hello, and welcome to Gold and Son Jewelers, sir. How may I assist you today?”

“I have a simple request, I hope. A silver ring with a small amber stone for a lady.”

“Silver ring with amber. One moment.” The man got off his stool and picked up a tray, bringing it to the counter. He moved a partially shaded rock light to shine brightly on his wares. Tom was a bit dazzled and took a step back so he could see better. He was better with colors than with details, and soon picked one that matched Diavla's eyes.

“A fine choice, sir. A gift for a special someone?”

Tom shook his head, feeling bashful. “Not yet. Just friends.”

“Well, if you wish to change that, this might help. Good luck to you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I interest you in any other items?”

Tom considered. “Actually, if I give only her a token of friendship, V—ahem, her friend might kick up a fuss. Would you have a similar small silver ring, this time with an emerald?”

“Of course. Emeralds are very popular.” A minute later, Tom had picked one out almost at random; they all seemed to match Varga's eyes pretty well, and he couldn't see any detail work.

“Excellent choices, sir. If I may make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“Emeralds are generally considered more valuable than amber. If you need to be wary of jealousy in the other direction, perhaps a different stone instead of amber?”

“Amber—” Tom stopped himself from saying “matches her eyes”, since that would be an obvious tip-off that the woman in question wasn't human. Tom saw no reason to advertise farther than necessary, in a world where his elves were getting mugged. “Amber has significance to her,” he explained.

“Very good, sir, you know her better than I.”

“I do appreciate the suggestion. You're very helpful.”

“Thank you, sir, I do strive to please. Would you like to see any other wares while you are here?”

Tom was about to say no, but reconsidered. “Actually…I might purchase something for a totally different reason.”

“Oh?”

“Transporting wealth.”

“Ah. Yes. Gems are much lighter than gold.”

“My concern would be the resale value. Do you have something that would fetch a very reliable price in different cities?”

“Hm…what price range were you thinking of?”

“Roughly one hundred gold coins.”

The jeweler looked thoughtful. “Hm. Among my wares, your best bet would be a sapphire and gold necklace, then. It is worth ninety gold, and its price would, if anything, be higher elsewhere.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Are you aware of the mines in the hills to the north of here?”

“No, I wasn't.”

“Well, they have recently found a fair number of sapphires, which depresses their value in these parts somewhat. The farther you travel, however, the more valuable the necklace might become.”

“But it is unlikely to sell for less than ninety gold?”

The jeweler shrugged. “There are no guarantees in life, but I would be confident.”

Tom nodded. “I will consider it. Thank you very much for the information.”

“You are quite welcome, young sir.”

Tom paid for the rings and tied them together through a small loop tucked inside his shirt for safekeeping, next to the wand for Eubexa's necklace. Once done with that, Tom nodded to Orvan and led the way out onto the street. From there, it was a short walk to the weaponsmith's shop.

Once inside, it did not take long for Orvan to pick out three spears that pleased him. Tom asked the proprietor about caltrops, and ended up getting a leather bag full of them. It was heavy, but Tom assumed that Eubexa would be lying in the wagon any time she needed to throw them, so she wouldn't ever have to lift the bag.

He selected a couple of daggers, and looked longingly at a few of the finer swords. His hand practically itched to hold one in particular, that gleamed almost unnaturally. “What about this one?” he asked the proprietor.

“Ah, that's good workmanship, that one.”

“Is it enchanted?”

“No, but it's enchantment-worthy. I think that one was actually a failed enchantment.”

“Not your work?”

“No,” the shopkeeper denied. “Sometimes I will buy a piece if I think it is good enough. Someone passing through from the east sold that to me…oh…two years ago? That can't be right…” The man frowned, then shook his head. “Time slips away, sometimes. Anyway, are you interested?”

Tom drew it and sighted along the blade, felt the heft and balance, sheathed it again and tested it for flexibility, being careful not to damage it. It was a nice sword and felt right in his hand. “How much?”

“Two gold.”

Tom snorted a laugh in surprise. “I thought you said it wasn't enchanted. I'd pay one gold for it.”

“If it were enchanted, I'd be charging ten gold.”

“And you'd be right to do so, depending on the magic, but that's not what we have here.” Tom sighed and reluctantly put the weapon down again.

“I could part with it for a gold eighty,” the man offered.

“I…probably shouldn't spend the coin, to be honest. I've got a serviceable sword already.”

“If a blade calls to you, you should listen,” the shopkeeper advised.

“A gold…twenty,” Tom offered. “I really can't meet you in the middle, though,” he warned. “I shouldn't be spending as much gold as I have been.”

The man eyed him for a long moment. “Let's cut to the end of the hunt, then. I'll let you have it for a gold forty and not a copper less.” Tom sighed, dithering. He wasn't just haggling, he really wasn't sure he should get it.

To their mutual surprise, Orvan reached over and picked up the sword, giving it his own examination. The elf drew the weapon, then twirled it expertly for a moment. He frowned, then looked at Tom. He sheathed the weapon and nodded, handing it to Tom.

“Yes,” Orvan announced.

Tom searched the old elf's eyes, trying to understand the man for a moment. He and Orvan hadn't really had much conversation yet. The old elf tended to stay quiet most of the time, so when he did speak up, Tom gave it extra weight. The man was calm, and confident.

Tom took a breath, and turned to the proprietor. “Sold.”

“Excellent. Three spears, two daggers, a bag of caltrops, and the sword. Anything else, good sir?”

“That should do it.”

Tom parted with nearly four more gold, and they left the weapon shop. A worthwhile expense, but gods, I've never spent this much gold in a week in my life. I've never had this much gold before. I need to remember that it's not all mine.

Orvan was carrying the spears, and headed to a different shop. Surprised, Tom followed. I guess it's my turn to follow his shopping. It was a bowyer's. Oh, right. A bow for Arven. I'm glad he remembered. Tom didn't know anything about bows, so he left it to the elf, who seemed right at home. He examined a great many before picking one out. It was very polished and a bit ornate. Tom thought it looked too pretty to be a proper weapon, but Orvan apparently had different aesthetics. The bow and a quiver full of arrows set them back another gold and a half.

At this point, Tom thought they were finished, but Orvan led him down to the docks. Bemused, Tom followed, wondering what they were doing now. Orvan looked around and found a fisherman's shop. Inside, Tom watched as Orvan inspected fishing nets, before picking two out and paying for them himself. Tom was curious.

I wonder who those are for?