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Interlude 3 - Jaz & Ardy

Interlude

Jaz & Ardy

Jaz swayed as he walked. He was sweating profusely and hot flashes hit him in dizzying waves. He tried to dissipate the excess heat into the snow around him but it flooded out in a pulse. The snow evaporated in an instant causing a puff of steam to billow up.

“What part of discreet did you not understand?” Endrin hissed at him, dragging him by the shoulder to a nearby alley. Loreli was quick on their heels, glancing about the dimly lit street to see if there was anyone that noticed.

“The watch are on lookout for Ferath after his brawl with Daegan and his bodyguard. We’re already suspicious enough as it is without you and your erratic runewielding.”

They’d arrived into Urundock the very same day that Ferath had attacked Daegan on the street. There’d been plenty of eye-witnesses that had seen Ferath chasing the two men down the street and the watchmen had warrants out for his arrest. Not like they had any cell that could hold him… Or any of us for that matter.

“I’m sorry,” Jaz panted, “it’s getting harder to control. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“What’s happening is,” Endrun chided, “you were too arrogant. You thought you were ready to be soulforged and now your body is rejecting the process. It’s happened to others already.”

“How do I stop it?” Jaz asked and Endrin and Loreli shared a look. Loreli shook her head, “we’ll help you, ok?”

“We just have to finish the mission and get you back to Garld,” Edrin added. “He can fix this.”

“He’s done it before?” Jaz asked, and was ashamed of the pleading in his tone. Endrin nodded, “it happened to me and a lot of the others that were first to undergo the change. For some of us, our bodies simply couldn't handle it. It kept accelerating and we couldn’t control it. But Garld can fix it, you understand? You just have to hold out.” Jaz nodded, his resolve strengthening. But then another flash of heat radiated out from his heart.

He wanted to discard all of the clothes he was wearing. He already looked strange, dressed in nothing but linen trousers and a light tunic in the snow covered streets. This was Urundock, one of the most northern human settlements in the world and he was wearing a fucking tunic and still sweating like a pig. What was happening to him?

He knew that it would pass. The heat pulses had started a few weeks after his soulforging, and had grown in frequency. They had been sporadic, at first, but now he had come to expect one every few hours. It felt as though the topaz in his chest was trying to burn its way out of him. Sometimes, when he slept, he dreamt of waking up in a bed of flames. This can’t go on. He had considered asking Misandrei for permission to abandon the mission, to ride out of this shithole of a town and ride for the nearest port and sail straight back to Epilas. He knew that she wouldn’t allow it. Not now they were so close.

“Captain said the Aeth was spotted in a tavern just down the street. Some place called the Blue Bottle or something like that,” Endrin noted.

“How did an Aeth end up in a forsaken place like this, running an iceraft of all things?” Loreli scoffed.

“Haven’t a fucking clue,” Endrin snorted, “but he took Daegan across the Ice sheet and he’s going to bring us right after him if he wants to keep his head attached to his body.”

***

“Ain’t no way you came across that honestly, Ardy,” Shelly gave the Aeth man a hard look from behind the bar.

“Was payment from that pair you sent my way,” he gave her his most charming grin.

“Thought you said they was caught up in that rak assault in Twin Garde,” Juri—a fellow bar fly—chimed in from the end of the bar.

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“They was,” Ardy pulled up in offence, “doesn’t mean they didn’t pay me ‘afore it all kicked off.”

“I call bullshit,” Juri threw back, “if Twin Garde was attacked by rakmen, why isn’t there no reinforcements coming through? No runners or nothing.”

“It was only two days ago,” Ardy spat, “weren’t you listening? I only got out by the skin of me teeth.”

“That makes no sense, skin don’t have no teeth,” Juri’s face scrunched up.

“It’s a saying.”

“I ain’t never heard it said.”

“That’s because you’ve never been five feet outside of Urundock,” Shelly cracked at Juri.

“Now,” Shelly turned back to Ardy, wiping down a dirty glass with an even dirtier rag. “You’re telling me that foreign fella and his bodyguard paid you with a runestone for a trip to Twin Garde.” Her tone and eyes made it very clear what she thought of that.

“C’mon, please, Shelly,” Ardy leaned against the bar, “ain’t nobody willing to buy it off me. They’re all scared because of that maniac Reldoni runewielder that was running through the streets the other day.”

“Rightly so,” Juri piped in again, “killed half-dozen of the Watch after you left with the people he was fighting. You know the Watch are looking to speak with you too over all o’ that mess.”

“Aye,” Shelly agreed, “Mayor’s put out a contract for the man’s head. And from what I hear, the Arch-Duke himself has been looking for that same man.”

“Have you tried Darel?” Juri asked, leaning in the direction of Ardy, “she’d buy cuts of my fat arse if I was selling ‘em.” He was leaning so far off his seat, Ardy was surprised the man was still in it.

“Tried,” Ardy grimaced, ‘course he had, everyone in town knew Darel was where to go if you needed something pawned fast. “She offered me a measly one silver, ten. This is worth twenty times that, at least.”

“That’s what you get for trying to pawn stolen shit,” Shelly snorted.

“It weren’t stolen,” Ardy shot back. It was looted from a corpse… Well, an almost-corpse. He sighed and pushed himself from the bar. There was no other way about it. He’d take the one silver and ten coppers. It would still be enough to get him plenty of drinks for the next few days.

Ardy stepped out into the dimly lit street, tasting the fresh chill of the air. He liked the cold of Urundock. It reminded him of the frigid sting of the ocean winds. Not for the first time over the past few months, Ardy considered if he should give it up out here. Perhaps it was time to head back to Edas and find work on a trading ship. He missed the salty air of the sea and the rocking movement of a ship at night.

“I’ll take that runestone off your hands.” Ardy jumped at the male voice. He hadn’t thought anyone else was on the wooden porch of the bar. A dark figure loomed from the corner. Ardy had been in enough precarious situations over the past few days and was not at all impressed with being blindsided in the dark.

“Thirty silver,” Ardy snapped, “coin only.”

“We’ll pay, but we also want you to take us to its previous owner.” The figure stepped closer into the light and Ardy caught sight of an ugly man with a nose that looked like it had been broken many times over. Even in the dim light, Ardy could tell the man’s nationality.

“No dealings with Reldoni, thank you very much,” Ardy sneered and stepped off the porch.

“I’m not asking,” the man grumbled.

“You’d be smart to listen to him,” two more figures appeared from around the side of the building. Ardy felt the all too familiar feeling of dread looming over him. No! How was this still happening to him? Why did he have to accept Desmond’s stupid fucking offer.

“L-Listen, I don’t want no trouble.”

“And we don’t want to cause you any,” it was a woman’s voice but Ardy couldn’t make out the faces of either of the two newcomers. “All we’re asking for is a ride.” Both of the newcomers had the silhouette of swords, sheathed at the belt. He knew well enough how formidable a Reldoni woman with a sword was.

He could try to outrun them. One of the newcomers was swaying as if drunk and Ardy could be quick when needed.

“The man’s up in Twin Garde. I-I can’t… I mean the place was swarming with rakmen, I can’t advise you go there.”

“We can handle ourselves well enough,” the man on the porch said.

“I’m not going back.”

“You don’t have the choice,” the man replied with the grim solemnity of a man whose business was death. It was a voice that carried a threat and Ardy had experienced it many times in the past. Some people have heard threats so many times before that they begin to sound hackneyed and meaningless. Ardy was not one of those people. Ardy had survived this long by staying exactly where the trouble wasn’t. By avoiding threats and fleeing when faced with them.

He’d fled Altarea when Lord-whatever-his-name-was had declared himself King and annexed from Reldon some fifty years ago. He’d fled when Nordock had been faced with their own rakmen problem two decades ago. And he’d fled three nights past when there’d been grenadiers throwing around explosives and rakmen jumping over battlements. He had absolutely zero intent of going back to exactly where the danger was.

But then again if there was a very immediate risk to his life if he didn’t play along… Ardy straightened his back and turned to face broken-nose. “Fifty silver.”