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Chapter Thirty-One — Minutes

There was no doubt about it. At some point, Holsley had lost consciousness.

A hazy moonlight filtered through the windows, and he slowly realised he was back in his shabby room at the Fetch Inn. It all came back to him. The young bard had managed to stumble his way through the alleys and climb in through the window, all while being exhausted, lightheaded, and continuously cringing at the bloody slashes across his abdomen.

How long had he been asleep? It couldn’t have been long if the world outside that window was still dark. An hour, then. Maybe two. He groaned as he rolled on the bed, eager to get up and inspect the damage, but he couldn’t move.

The young bard just lay there.

The door opened first before the figure knocked. If Holsley had the strength, he would’ve sat up to meet eyes with his visitor. As it was, though, he felt cold and weak, like the energy had been sucked out of him. The day’s events had caught up and, like a boulder, weighed him down like a giant paperweight.

Merhim appeared above him. The gnome didn’t say anything; he just got to work. Holsley let out a yelp when a stinging, burning liquid was applied to the slashes underneath his bloody shirt. It was just the jolt he needed to get him to sit up a little.

‘Hold still, eh!’ Merhim insisted, pushing the towel onto his wounds and forcing him back down. ‘I’m trying to forestall infection, kid.’

‘Burn it, more like!’ Holsley barked. ‘How did you—’

‘I heard you stumble in a few minutes ago,’ said Merhim. ‘Made enough of a racket to wake me up. You were out cold on the bed, and I couldn’t help but notice these scratches, eh.’

Oh, it had been minutes. It sure felt like hours since he’d fallen in over the windowsill.

‘This was courtesy of my gambling opponent,’ said Holsley with a wince. ‘He wasn’t too happy.’

‘Gambling didn’t go well then?’

‘Actually, it did.’ Holsley smiled. He could feel the ring in his pocket, poking at his thigh. Once again, and not for the first time, things had gone the wrong way and had somehow ended up going right for him. ‘I got the ring and barely escaped with my life.’

‘I’m sorry? Are you saying that you. You? Somehow, someway, somewhy, managed to swindle a seasoned gambler?’ The look on Merhim’s face said it all. Shock. Pure shock. ‘Have you made a deal with the God of Luck or something, kid?’

‘No, but I was born on the twenty-eight day of Adle,’ replied Holsley thoughtfully. ‘It was a hollow victory, though. A bunch of tubheads barged in at the last second and knocked over the tower just after he placed down his die. After that, I just sort of grabbed the ring and ran off.’

The gnome frowned.

‘Wait.’ Holsley held up a hand before Merhim could apply more of that stinging ointment. ‘I can heal myself.’

He checked his little finger. One circle was black, and the other was red. For a moment, he wondered why, then he recalled he had used one of his slots to cast a charming spell on a tubhead. He had one more spell for the day then, but if he got some decent rest, it would become two come morning. It’s better to cast a healing spell now, then.

‘You know a healing song?’

‘A minor one.’ Holsley pointed towards the lute. It had rolled across the floor when he fell in through the window. ‘Would you mind?’

With a grunt, Merhim retrieved the instrument. Holsley took it gratefully, sat up a little, and didn’t waste any time not playing.

Delicate hands moved along the strings as if a seasoned musician guided them. He’d never been so graceful. With the redrose lute, he teased the sweetest of notes and encouraged the melody to cling to the air. Then, his voice joined. He whispered the words of prayer to Zandazarr in the elven tongue and waited for the familiar warmth in his left hand.

Holsley placed his glowing appendage over the scratch wounds.

In seconds, the long, bloody strokes knitted themselves back together. Blood retracted, and flesh pulled inwards, closing the gaps, as Holsley felt his life return to him. It occurred to him only then that he must have lost quite a bit of blood to feel so lightheaded.

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Four faint white scars were all that was left as a reminder of what Fox had done.

‘Beautifully done, kid,’ said a wide-eyed Merhim. ‘Haven’t heard a song of healing quite like that before.’

‘It’s only really for small cuts and stuff,’ replied Holsley. ‘It’ll never completely heal. I’m not that good.’

‘It’s left an impressive scar, eh.’

‘Yeah?’ Holsley grinned, admiring it. ‘I’ve always wanted a really cool scar. Feels like claw marks could be anything, right? I could say I got it fending off a bear or, or, tackling a shark.’

‘How’s that any more impressive than the truth?’

‘I dunno.’ Holsley shrugged. ‘Fighting a bear sounds pretty badass.’

‘So, what now?’ Merhim shifted the conversation and took a seat on the bed. ‘You’ve got the ring. What do you plan on doing with it?’

‘In the morning, I’m going to sneak back into the dungeons and get it to Roland,’ replied Holsley. He was replaying the plan he had rehearsed in his head for the past five hours or so. ‘After that, Roland will get out, and we’ll escape the city together.’

‘Both of you?’

‘Yeah, I don’t see why not?’

Merhim shifted uncomfortably. Holsley became suddenly aware of how little the gnome’s eyes wanted to do with him. As a young bard accustomed to receiving difficult truths regarding his music, he was afraid he was about to get one now. Not a critique of his music, mind, but a difficult truth, nonetheless.

‘I’ve been walking about the city.’ Merhim twiddled his thumbs idly. ‘I don’t know how to say this, but can you trust this Roland character, eh?’

‘Yeah?’ Holsley was genuinely confused by the question. ‘He’s my best friend?’

‘It’s just, well, I’ve heard things about him, Holsley.’ Merhim met the young bard’s eyes. ‘I don’t want to upset you, but the things I’ve heard aren’t very good.’

Holsley rolled his tongue over his two front teeth, prodding the gap between them. Merhim wasn’t the only one who had heard bad things. He recalled the conversation he was privy to earlier, the one that took place in the dungeon’s laundry room. They had heard Roland had killed someone, that he had cut someone’s head clean off and stolen their gold fillings.

Holsley didn’t believe it.

‘What have you heard?’ Holsley said at last.

‘That he stole, scammed, and murdered in cold blood, eh,’ said Merhim sullenly. ‘Things that make me believe that, well, he’s on death row for a reason.’

‘Roland wouldn’t do any of that.’ Holsley’s voice rose. ‘Well, except for the stealing, but you don’t know him like I do. He’s my closest friend, and he would never, not ever, murder someone in cold blood. It’s a line he wouldn’t cross.’

‘Holsley—’

‘No, you don’t know him. It’s as plain as that.’ Holsley shifted to his feet, felt a little shaky, then sat back down when he was struck with a bout of dizziness. ‘He doesn’t deserve to be hanged, and he told me that much himself. Roland’s a good person, and the whole reason I came here was to prove that.’

‘Don’t be stupid, kid! He was a member of the Bloody Darlings, one of the most, if not the most, bloodthirsty pirates to sail the Crossing.’ Merhim didn’t move. ‘They slaughtered every ship and town they got their hands on and didn’t discriminate between things like guilty or innocent. Roland was under the thumb of Berry Kellam for the Gods shake — the Cruel Queen herself. She’s not exactly known for bringing sweethearts onto her crew, eh.’

‘This is just rumour, there’s no proof that—’

‘But there is!’ Merhim stood up straighter so that he was at eye level with Holsley. ‘Don’t you think it’s odd that you were the only one that came to defend him, hmmm? You were the only one that could vouch for his character?’

‘Not that many people knew him.’

‘Oh, they did.’ Merhim took a deep breath. ‘After you left this morning, I did some research. Seventy-nine people have come forward as witnesses. People from up and down the Avanni Coast. All of them swear they saw Roland performing brutal acts, and not one of them has a reason to lie.’

Holsley gave him a hard look.

‘I know it’s not what you want to hear, lad,’ said Merhim. ‘But, in honesty, I don’t reckon that’s the same Roland you knew as a child. The years have changed him. Being a pirate has changed him. He might have been sweet once or even innocent, but bad times can change anyone for the worse. I think trusting him is going to put you in danger. I think…you’re trying to save a monster.’

‘You are so wrong, and you are so out of line!’ Holsley sparked. ‘Yeah, Roland has always been a little rough around the edges. I’ll be the first to admit that. He never stole from those who couldn’t afford it, though, and he never turned his weapon on anyone except in defence. I know he’s a good person, and I know for sure that he’s my best friend, and I’ll be deeply damned if I let a friend die based on the hearsay of people I’ve never met.’

‘Don’t be such a fool,’ Merhim snorted. ‘Why is it so hard to believe that he’s changed, eh? He’s about to face the noose, for all’s sake!’

Holsley didn’t answer because he didn’t have an answer. Fortunately, the silence didn’t last for long. There was another knock at the door, a quieter one this time, followed by a whispery voice on the other side.

‘Is everything okay in there?’ Gannamane whispered through the wood. ‘I heard yelling?’

‘Sorry to disturb you, pet,’ Merhim replied back, a little louder. ‘I’m just leaving.’

Holsley watched him hop off the bed but didn’t say another word. The gnome crossed to the door and didn’t so much as glance back as he left. It was only when the door clicked shut that Holsley’s mind started turning.

Seventy-nine people was a lot of people. What exactly had they seen, though?

Roland had always been rough. That was the best way to describe it. The rogue had clearly had a rotten time growing up, and he had told Holsley as much. The thieves’ guild was cruel and conniving, at least that’s what he had always gathered, and Roland had done what he had to in order to survive. Holsley supposed the same was true of these pirates. Maybe Roland had done bad things, but had he done them willingly?

Holsley lay back on the bed. He needed rest and sleep, and now was a good time to get it.

It was kind of sweet, though. Holsley tried to switch his brain off, but the thoughts continued unabated. He knew that Merhim was just watching out for him. On the outside, he could totally see how someone could’ve come to the same conclusion as him, but the gnome was still out of line.

Merhim didn’t know Roland like he did.