Chapter 12

“She’s here!” whispered Arios. “Over there! Leaning against the bartop!”

Pyragos turned, eyes wide, “Her? In the ebony robes? Can you be sure?”

“Yes. There is no doubt in my mind.”

A pair of Candle Maidens sat down at the table beside them. Painted faces matching their ivory robes. Shining stones on their necks and in their hair. The one closest to Pyragos, just as golden haired as he was, spoke, “You appear to be both well at ease now. May we pour your wine Sirs?” She lifted the jug in anticipation.

“A most charming proposition,” replied Pyragos. “It is only that my companion here has just spotted an old acquaintance of his, he will call on her quickly and soon return.”

Arios felt his stomach coil and tighten. He was being trusted to confront the assassin on his own? He looked to Pyragos confused, “Yes, well…I will…”

“Look at how he struggles!” Laughed Pyragos and the girls joined in, a lilting melodic chime. “Has it been so long my friend? Do not worry, all will be well. Ask her about herself, show an interest in her plans, this will surely please her. See if she would like to join us one of these nights, perhaps we can wait out this dreadful business in each other’s company. Go on be quick!” He pulled the women close to him. “I have enough wit to keep these fine ladies entertained for a short while and if not, more than enough coin!”

Arios left the table. The sound of the women’s laughter as Pyragos made one boastful claim after another all the while calling for more drink faded into the humming ambience as he pressed towards the assassin and deeper into the crowd. Pyragos played his part well.

It was less crowded by the bartop. There were no seating so drunken patrons avoided it and without any one to sell to the Candle Maidens made themselves scarce as well. Only returning to collect an endless stream of wine from the Bar Master. The assassin stood alone nursing a cup of a very dark liquid. He approached the Bar Master first, “A cup of your finest wine and when the lady finishes, her next drink.” It was a calculated risk. He had no means to pay for anything and was desperately hoping you were meant to settle your score at the end of the night.

The man did not even blink. “Right away Sir,” he replied. He turned away from the counter. The wall was lined with presses. Each door had a small circular indent of which many had disks of various colors placed upon them. The man located a door with an obsidian chip, the one Pyragos had received when they had entered. Then from underneath the counter he withdrew several copper coins and placed them inside it.

“You are a little young for such an establishment are you not?” It was the assassin.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I believe all are welcome here, provided they have sufficient coin.” It was a deep voice and not his own, he hoped came across as more confident and mature. The women’s eyes told him that he had failed in this regard.

“It does seem that the contents of one’s purse is all that is considered in this world. A shame.” She had finished her drink and the Bar Master refilled it hastily. He then placed Arios’s cup beside him. She took the cup raising it towards Arios and nodded, Arios took his cup and returned the favor.

“It seems tonight that at the very least coin has earned me a chance to speak with you. So, it cannot be all bad. What may I call you?”

The woman took a long sip from her cup and was silent. Arios wondered if he had been to forward but finally, she replied, “You may call me Syretha. And you, young master?

“Arios,” he replied carelessly. He saw her eyes narrow for a moment and panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning. Should he have used a different name? Pyragos would have but he was a lord. Arios was a common enough name; he had imagined her reaction. He returned to meet her gaze, she seemed undisturbed but there was still the smallest of creases in brow.

“Well met Arios.” She gestured behind him. “I believe you are beginning to worry your companion.”

He turned. Pyragos was laughing and drinking just as he had been when Arios had left. But if you looked for long enough you could catch him. Whenever he drank from his cup, he kept his eyes locked on Arios. “I told him we were old friends,” he confessed. “In truth I only hoped to make your acquaintance. He is just making sure I do not make a fool of myself.”

She smiled at him. “You are an intriguing young man, Arios. I am glad to have this moment with you.” She leaned in close until their faces were nearly touching. “Perhaps you would like to buy me another drink.”

Another drink might loosen her tongue. She had given nothing away yet but nor had she spurned him. She was quite beautiful. “Yes, another round.” He motioned to the Bar Master who looked to Syretha. She nodded and the man disappeared underneath the counter returning with two large flagons.

He took a deep drink and Syretha placed a hand on his shoulder, “Arios this may seem strange but, I wish to ask you about the Kyrithon.”

This wasn’t right. Wasn’t he supposed to be asking her about that? “What about those heretics?” He muttered angrily.

“The singing. I am told some of our citizens are hearing it even when they shouldn’t be. Do you know anything of this?”

What a curios question. He took another drink. But he had heard them had he not? Deep in the cellars. Father had not heard them at all. “I…today…in the cellars,” he mumbled. The words were not coming out the way he meant them.

Syretha inhaled sharply and turned away from Arios. He was having a hard time focusing but he thought he saw her waving to someone. When she turned back to him her eyes were shining. “Arios, tell me of your dreams! What have you seen?” It was little more than a whisper, quick and breathless, and desperate.

He heard a loud slam and looked up dazed. There was something happening at Pyragos’s table. A large crowd had gathered around it and he could no longer see him but he was shouting wildly. He should return, Pyragos may be in need of help.

“Arios!” She took his face in her hands pulling him close to her. “I need you tell me of your dreams. Has there been anything discomforting about them of late?”

“The Kallidra…my mother…” he could barely get the words out. “But she’s dead…” He pulled away and his head slipped, cracking on the counter below. There was fighting going on around him. He wanted to rise but was slipping away. He looked up towards Syretha for help. She stood above him, there were tears in her eyes.

“I am so sorry Arios.” He slipped into darkness those last words echoing in his mind.