“I’ve heard that there’s a price on your head in Agron.”
“In Agron?” Connor asked. He and Nicholas had been summoned to the local headquarters of the King Trading Company. Dulcinea met with the soldiers in the manager's office, he had kindly offered up for this interview.
“Not by the king or the deputized law enforcers, but you pissed off a couple of very influential people and they are ‘literally’ looking to put your heads on spikes.”
“I think the fact that the friendly, local Mavit Tomar businessman was secretly in charge of the thief’s guild was not a secret to much of the nobility. As members of that secret, they were immune to theft from the guild. Not so much for the middle and lower classes,” Connor said.
“That’s not nearly the worst of it. I won’t fault a man for the occasional visit to a brothel, at least a single man; but they were offering up underage prostitutes. Children,” Nicholas growled. “I don’t have any children of my own, but it still makes my blood boil. I will not tolerate it!”
“So, you did a two-man raid of a private brothel, and killed a dozen men?” She looked at her notes, “And a single woman?”
“You touch a child… you die. It was as easy as that.”
“I normally try to temper his emotions,” Connor interjected, “but in this case, I completely agreed with him. A person who would do such acts has forfeited their right to live.”
“We are looking for men who will mete out justice without misplaced compassion. These pirates are a scourge on all good people, and they must be sent to the bottom of the sea as a warning to anyone else who would think to terrorize innocent trading ships.” Dulcinea sat back in her chair, “I met you briefly when the champions defeated the Lords of Shadow. I’ve heard good things about you, and you are respected among the Kronos nobility. Will you join this quest?”
“I’m not much for boats. I’ve never been on one, on the open ocean,” Nicholas said, turning green just thinking about the waves.
“We’re in,” Connor said for the both of them.
“So here we are, back in Mirren,” Connor said, looking around. “Do you think we have to be careful? The elf said that there was a contract on both our heads.”
Connor looked at him disapprovingly, as usual. “We’re not even staying in town. We board The Redout and bunk there till the ship sails on the morrow. How much trouble can we get in if we are sleeping on a ship at port?”
“I feel like you’re challenging me,” Nicholas said smiling.
They walked along the main street of town, heading in the general direction of the shore. They passed shops with wonderful smells wafting from within.
“I heard that ship food is not very good.” Nicholas was salivating.
“It may be our last chance to have a hearty, hot meal…” Without further discussion, they drifted into the closest restaurant with meat smoke pouring from it. “I’ll get the first round. Find a table,” Connor said, heading off to the bar.
Beef ribs were followed by dark bread, fruit, and cheeses. All of it was washed down by several pitchers of dark, warm ale. A bard in the corner was playing a lively tune, bringing smiles to the room full of customers. The sun had gone down outside, but the pub was brightly lit and bustling with activity. Pubs that shut down after dinner time were now open till the wee hours of the night. Money and ale were flowing in the crowded hall and spirits were high. Nicholas was in the middle of one of his favorite narratives when something caught his eye.
“Connor, look over there!” he whispered loudly, nodding at a figure across the room. Connor looked and instantly saw what his partner was pointing out. An attractive brunette was slowly working her way through the room, bumping into every man in her path. They smiled at each other and took different directions to eventually meet where she was headed.
“Charity? You’re still in town?” Nicholas asked, grabbing her by the wrist. She reached for the dagger at her hip only to have Connor seize her other wrist and relieved her of her weapon.
“Yeah! I thought after we broke up the guild, you would be heading for greener pastures.”
“Hey, a girl’s got to eat,” she said while ceasing to struggle. “You taking me off to the constable?”
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“I’m too drunk,” Nicholas said, escorting her back to their table.
“And, we’re not getting paid to police Mirren right now. We’re leaving on a ship tomorrow.”
“Interesting…” she took one of the ales and began to drink it.
“First we were tasked with cleaning up this lovely cesspool, and now we are going to try and curb the pirate problem.”
“Pirate problem?” she asked.
“They are raiding almost every ship that crosses the ocean, killing the crews and taking the ships as prizes.”
“Sounds dangerous. You get good money for that type of work?”
“Very good money,” Nicholas replied, “You thinking of going legitimate? I’m not sure that being good at stealing translates to combat.”
Taking Nicholas’ wooden mug, she drained the last of his drink and then tossed the vessel in the air at a wooden pillar a dozen feet away. Quick as lightning, she pulled and launched her foot-long dagger. The blade flew true, catching the handle of the mug and pinning it to the pillar, a good eight feet off the ground.
“Ok, that was pretty good,” Connor said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Miss,” he called out. “Two mugs and a fresh pitcher!”
After another two hours of drinking and feasting, they were all drunk and getting sleepy. Not everyone in the room was feeling as merry. Their conversation was interrupted by the growing sounds of a scuffle. Two men on the far side of the room were grappling and trying to toss each other to the ground. A short, balding man was being held by two taller men from behind, another man, overweight and dressed in fine clothes was pounding heavy blows into the shorter man’s midsection. Several punches went unanswered, and it looked like the shorter man was in big trouble when someone knocked out the dandy with a bottle to the back of the head.
“What do suppose is going on there?” Nicholas wondered aloud.
“The one getting beat was a member of the guild. I guess he got caught in the act,” Charity slurred.
The scrum quickly escalated into an all-out brawl. Heavy wooden steins filled the air, and people were being assaulted with both fists and chairs. When a half-eaten potato struck Nicholas in the head, he’d had enough. Both he and Connor stood to join the fray when the sound of a guitar cut through the din. The crisp, clean tones hung in the air and vibrated through the bones of everyone in the room. Everyone paused for just a moment… long enough for the bard to begin singing. He sang a song, telling the story of the war against the seasons, and the valor of the men of Kronos against the combined forces of the Doreh, the evil witches, and the Mavit Tomar.
Arms raised in anger were lowered, faces twisted in anger and bloodlust went slack. The energy of the room changed from being charged with violence to a general calm. The song continued and the masterful playing continued, and in minutes, people were calm and sat again at their respective tables.
I was ready to kill someone just a minute ago, and yet now I can’t remember why I was so angry, Nicholas thought to himself. “What just happened?” he said to his companions.
“You mean how everyone in the room calmed down at the same time?” Connor asked. He looked around, then focused on the singer in the corner. The man was still playing, and his voice was soft and firm at the same time. His hands strummed the strings with uncanny dexterity, his music still putting a blanket of calm on all those present.
“Some kind of magic,” Nicholas asked.
“That would be my guess, though I had never heard of someone who could control the emotions of a hundred souls at the same time. We need to chat with this fellow.” He waved to a passing server. Placing a coin on her tray, “Miss, please ask that the singer join us at our table. We will of course pay him for his time.” She nodded and was off.
A minute later, the song ended, and a few minutes after that, the singer approached their table. He wore a bright white shirt with emerald-green colored flowing pants and a bright red jacket. He was maybe five feet eight inches tall, and his bright red hair fell to his shoulders. He wore no facial hair but did sport an infectious smile. They waved for him to sit, which he did with a flourish.
“Cormac Hasso, at your service. Thank you for inviting me over. I’ve been playing for hours, and I could use a break,” he began, accepting a glass of wine.
“You may have been playing for hours, but the last ten minutes were different. What’s your game?” Connor asked. The man lost his smile and rose to leave when Nicholas caught his elbow.
“My friend comes off a little harsh, apologies. What he means is, we’ve been listening to you all night, but when the fighting broke out, you somehow played… well, differently. I felt like my ability to control myself had been stripped away.”
“Some kind of magic, I’m guessing,” Charity added, pouring a little more wine into his cup.
“Oh no, I don’t do magic. I’m merely blessed by the gods with the ability to soothe the savage breast.”
“Oh, it's more than that!” Nicholas said, pounding the table. I was transfixed, unable to move aggressively. Minutes ago, I was spoiling for a fight, and then I was calm, serene…” He looked at the overhead chandelier as his voice trailed off.
“Snap out of it!” Connor slapped his shoulder firmly. He looked at Cormac, “The whole room was about to explode into ‘real’ violence, and that’s when you began singing and playing louder. You charmed them, us, everyone within the sound of your music was mollified by your song.”
“You may not call it magic, and you may not do tricks and such, but by the gods it was magic,” Charity said, not as drunk as she had been only minutes ago.
“I admit that I poured myself into that last song, but I’ll not admit that it was magic. I’ve been a musician for my whole life, playing guitar, lute, flute, and even the drum. I’ve made a lot of money going from town to town, singing and making people happy.”
“Can you do the opposite? Can you rile up a crowd? Make them crazy with bloodlust?” Nicholas asked, finally calmed down.
“I’ve never tried. It’s the opposite of what I aim to do. I bring only happiness and warm hearts. I’ve never had cause to stir the baser emotions.”
“We’re sailing out after pirates tomorrow. We’ve got a fine crew, but I think that both of you would be welcome additions,” Connor said to Cormac and Charity. They both looked skeptical, “Lady King is our patron, the pay will be… exceptional.”