Bargain Page 6

  That level of greed normally would have annoyed him. The Western Prail District was one of Khule’s poorest neighborhoods. People could use these various odds and ends that he dragged out to the street. But today he didn’t care. He was leaving this city, finally. And everything that someone else carted off was another thing he wouldn’t need to haul to a dump, or carry all the way to Jalova.

  Jalova. He’d only been to the city as a waypoint on his trips to and from Khule, but he’d heard many stories. The Temple there was supposed to be rich and powerful, much more so than any Temple he’d ever heard of. And Jalova was the origin of the Jalovan Cave Pepper, a drink Ermolt had only sampled once but couldn’t forget. The frothy beer was spicy and sweet, with a hint of cave pepper sauce that would set fire to the imbiber’s insides. Ermolt’s mouth watered in anticipation.

  He worked at a quicker pace from that moment on. The thrill of new adventure and of doing good for all of humanity, that’s what got him out of bed in the morning. But a spicy beer that would make him regret lifting the mug—that was something special.

  As soon as the furniture was all outside and the essentials were packed, the three of them got ready. Ermolt was saddled with most of Athala’s books as well as the few camping supplies they had. Elise and Athala split up the food, but it was very obvious to all three of them that they’d need to stop into the market to fill the gaps in their travel gear.

  Ermolt had originally suggested they stop by his old house to pick up whatever they needed, but after a few moments of discussion the idea was dropped. While the Temple had fled for now, and Meodryt promised them a temporary reprieve, it was best to not push their luck. Plus, as Elise had pointed out quite accurately, they’d get distracted going through things that caught their eye and not end up leaving right away.

  And then ultimately they’d go by Elise and Athala’s place as well in hopes of fetching their gear.

  It would be a brutal cycle of distraction and delay that would cause them to anger God and dragon. So they went to the market instead.

  They went about in thick cloaks like the one Elise wore that morning. They kept their hoods up, but they saw no Conscripts hunting for them. And no one else seemed too interested in them either as they purchased travel rations, water skins, and other essentials.

  The tale on everyone’s lips though was of the return of Meodryt and of the way it scattered a host of Conscripts two hundred persons strong. The exaggeration was humorous, but Ermolt was rankled that his epic knockout of Hern hadn’t made the rumor mill, even if it was for the best. If criminal elements thought Hern were a pushover, Khule’s guard system would be overrun with folks trying to test the mettle of the disgraced Temple Guard.

  And for Ydia’s host to go from forty persons to two hundred with no mention of the reason the host was gathered, well, Ermolt thought that was a bit of good luck as well. It kept suspicion low and made their passage through the market uneventful.

  Unlike the usual trips through the market, both Athala and Ermolt remained nearby as Elise led them from shop to shop. Ermolt thought it was a nice break for Elise, who looked increasingly paranoid as soon as someone mentioned ‘Meodryt’ or ‘dragon’ or even ‘Conscript’ in passing. Ermolt worked hard to keep Athala on task.

  “What you’re saying is that my warhammer is going to be useless, then?” Ermolt asked Athala as yet another stand drew her attention away. Ermolt could see this one was filled with what looked like ink pens with fantastically colored feathers tipping them. The hawker was waving around a lovely blue and gold one that caught even Ermolt’s eye. Not that he needed a pen. For any reason.

  Focus.

  “No, not completely.” Athala said, pulling her attention back to their previous conversation even though it pained her. Elise was busy with negotiating the price of a tent large enough for the three of them. “You see, a bludgeoning weapon such as a warhammer would be more effective than the blade of a sword, since the force will be transmitted through the scales into the flesh below. But a dragon is so much thicker than other beasts. There are only two or three places on the body where there are vitals close enough to the surface to be affected. A dragon’s bones would require tremendous force to fracture, let alone break. It would mostly inflict bruises.”

  “So do you suggest a more traditional approach?” Ermolt asked. “Spears are the iconic dragon-slaying weapon in all the tales.”

  “There’s certainly nothing wrong with them from a logical standpoint.” Athala shrugged and picked at her cuticles in an attempt to not look at the feathered pens. “A spear has the potential to pierce dragon scales and penetrate deeply enough to cause real damage. But I don’t trust any of the so-called historical records when it comes to dragonslaying. The historical records set up an unrealistic narrative of a single hero killing the beast. I believe that, in practice, a spear would only be useful once. A dragon’s muscles might just snap the head off of the spear, leaving you with a wooden stick, unless you had an assistant wheeling a weapon rack around the battlefield behind you.”

  “So perhaps not a true spear,” Ermolt said as he knelt down to let Elise strap the newly-bought tent to his back. She fiddled with the straps and got it secure. “Maybe a handful of pilum? The longer iron heads are less likely to break, and they’re small enough to carry ten or twelve. I could get a few good blows in to weaken it, slow it down, and then come in with something else.” When Athala started to waver, Ermolt frowned. “Tell me about dragonscales, perhaps we can brainstorm something more effective.”

  “There are plenty of historical records of the properties of dragonscales,” Athala said as Elise wordlessly led them through the market to their next stop. “They’re heavily suffused by the magical nature of the beasts themselves, which makes magic significantly less effective in penetrating or damaging them. But beyond that, they’re also the design of the Gods, intended to protect them from attack. The scales are strong, and their shape lends well to deflecting blows off of them.”

  “So perhaps something like a lohar axe? They’re widely used in the north to butcher beasts with tough hides. Such a tool is usually small, but could be used to part the scales and rip sections of hide apart.” He gestured vaguely with his hands as he spoke to give her some idea of what he was talking about. “It’s like a war pick with a sharpened edge, almost like a knife-blade turned horizontal. It’s not commonly used as a weapon, but that’s never stopped me before.”

  “That might work, but if such a tool is in common use in the north, there’s some historical conflict there. Marzen the Life-Touched supposedly had a full suit of dragon-scale armor.” Athala tugged at her ear, thinking. “By all reports, his campaign in the north was won almost entirely because the northern barbarians had neither weapons nor tools that could pierce it. If a tool that could penetrate such defenses exists in the north, surely someone would have decided to use it then?”

  “First of all,” Ermolt said, a hint of defensiveness to his voice. “I’m going to choose to ignore your casual mentioning of Marzen and his cowardly genocide of my people.” Athala flinched, and Ermolt smiled and softened his tone. “Secondly, in order to avoid getting into an argument about it, I am choosing to fixate on an entirely different grouping of words in that sentence. Dragon-scale armor. Is such a thing possible in the modern day?”

  “It’s unlikely that such a thing could be made by just any tradesman,” Athala said with a laugh. “But I’m sure there’s more than enough hide on a single dragon for a skilled leatherworker to practice and figure out how to work with such materials.”

  “Well, that’s settled, then. I want a suit of armor made from a dragon.” Ermolt nodded. “My mind is made up. I won’t be happy until I have it.”

  “You do realize,” Elise cut in, “you seemed to have skipped over the part where we need to find the dragon in the first place.”

  “Well, then are we ready to be off to Jalova?” Athala asked. “We’ve been running around this market all morning.” Erm
olt could almost hear the ‘and I haven’t run off to look at anything shiny’ in the accusatory tone.

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed,” Elise said slowly, “but most of our worldly possessions are still in the hands of the Temple. When we had to escape the first time, I didn’t think to grab our bedrolls and tents because I was too busy trying to save the both of you!” Her voice grew louder and louder. People started to stare. “We needed more than a little bit of restocking before the trip! I’m sorry if that takes time!”

  “Hey, whoa,” Ermolt said, lowering his voice to a soothing tone. “Athala didn’t mean anything by it, Elise. It’s been a stressful day, but the last thing we need is to make a scene and get the City Guards on us as bad as the Temple is.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Elise sighed as they headed for the western gates of the city. “I’ve just—Khule has been my home all my life. I’ve never considered the possibility of truly leaving it.”

  “You’ve been outside of the city before, though,” Athala said tentatively. She reached out and put a hand to her friend’s shoulder. “And it’s not as though we’ll never return.”

  “I’ve been on short trips, that’s all.” Elise shook her head. Ermolt wondered how he never saw this before. “And everywhere else is so different. I always thought every city had urchins running through the alleyways and an open-air market.” She shrugged Athala’s hand off. “And in a way, we will never return. We’re on a mission from Ydia. When we’re in Khule next, it will be the Age of Mortals, whatever that means for society.”

  “You’re right,” Ermolt said solemnly. “It will be different. We’ll be heroes. Even if the city is the same, we won’t be.”

  Elise nodded, but otherwise let the conversation die as they passed through the main gates of Khule. All that stood in their way was a handful of guards watching those who came and went. The city guard had not hassled them since they freed Meodryt, but they had reported their location to the Temple before. Ermolt eyed the gate guards as they passed. None seemed to give them any more attention than the other travelers.

  The road to Jalova spilled out before them. Ermolt had walked this road quite frequently in the past, but it was the first time he traveled with others. Alone he could make it in a day and a half, sleeping for three bells in the earliest moments of the morning when not even bandits would be prowling for the unprotected.

  But with Elise and Athala, the journey took longer than two days.

  It was much better to travel with companions, though. Elise and Athala shared tales from their time in Khule, and at night Ermolt would regale them with stories of the heroes of his people.

  The weather was nice for their trip, with cool winds but plenty of sunlight. But they were still grateful for Elise’s preparations as it was obvious autumn was fast approaching, especially at night.

  They enjoyed a relaxing walk down the newly brick-paved road through the sparse forest around Khule, and into the busy farmlands of the harvest season before they crossed the stout bridge that stretched over the Frohr River.

  When they stopped on the first night, Elise cooked three fresh steaks over the campfire that put Ermolt’s hearty breakfast to shame. At least, he thought so. Athala was of a different mind, but she enjoyed vegetables more than meat anyway, so her opinion didn’t matter.

  Day two took them across the river and into a more densely wooded area. It would have almost reminded Ermolt of home, were it not for the temperature. Their walk was slower in the dim light. The forest hadn’t been kind to the laying of brick for the road and large pieces of it were chipped or warped from the roots growing under. As the day wore on a bit of rain slowed their travel as well.

  As they took to camping for the second night, the skies split open above the trees. Only a mist of rain was able to make it through the forest canopy, but it was enough to force Ermolt into the tent with Elise and Athala. The girls teased him about it nearly all night.

  The teasing lasted all through the next day, finally putting an end to the endless speculation Athala and Ermolt kept coming back to about the proper way to slay a dragon.

  It was close to dusk of the third day when they emerged from the forest and into the farmlands around Jalova. Even from such a distance, Ermolt could still clearly make out the shining dome of the Temple of Teis. Its light seemed to pulse in the glory of the setting sun. The impossible glass sculpture dwarfed all else.

  Ermolt paused as a thread of worry wrapped its way around his brain. It was a thought that he hadn’t considered until the Temple came into view. His companions looked at him curiously but he waved them on. Ermolt mulled the thought over in his head as they started the approach to the city.

  What would it be like to really kill a dragon?

  Chapter Ten

  While Athala and Ermolt had blessedly stayed close at hand in Khule, they were back to their normal antics as soon as they entered Jalova. Elise tried to corral them towards the tavern she had stayed in the last time she had been here, but it was difficult.

  For one, Athala had never seen the ocean up-close. The wizard was constantly rushing off and staring out at any scenic viewpoint that overlooked the harbor. She asked all sorts of wild questions—sometimes to Elise and Ermolt, but other times to random strangers who looked at her with concern. Elise was sure that if given a rhen of space, Athala would bombard them with thousands of ocean-related facts over their time in Jalova. Elise made a mental note to keep the wizard too busy to study—a tall order indeed.

  The busy trade through the town meant that Ermolt was easily distracted by any imported good a tradesman could catch his eye with. He found everything from shops boasting Jirdan-forged weapons to shady-looking food carts serving Feldhokan-style sweetbreads. He spent nearly a quarter of a bell talking to an armorsmith about crafting suits out of exotic materials while Elise frowned and did her best to hurry him along.

  There were much fewer wizard-related stalls, since Jalova didn’t have an equivalent to Khule’s Wizard Tower, which Elise counted as a blessing.

  It still took all of her patience to keep them on track.

  It was well after dark that she managed to get them to the tavern she remembered. The Brass Sail. The tavern was on the northern side of town and it faced toward the ocean. While it wasn’t the closest venue to the harbor, it was well-populated with merchants and sailors, and filled with the salty air of the sea.

  Their dragon-gifted wealth worked in their favor to secure rooms for the three of them, along with food and drinks for a late supper. Elise was sure to get Ermolt a mug of Jalovan Cave-Pepper beer, even though it smelled like liquid vomit.

  “Right,” Elise said as she joined her friends at a table they had staked out. “Meals will be about shortly.” She passed out the drinks and Ermolt greedily look a large gulp of his beer, much to Elise and Athala’s disgust. “So we have a place to sleep the night away, but we should give some thought to what we do in the morning. How do we want to spend our time?”

  “The closest I’ve ever come to actually visiting Jalova was staying overnight once on one of my trips between Khule and Klav,” Ermolt said, smacking his lips. “I wouldn’t mind seeing some of the sights. And we have some money now. I don’t know about the two of you, but I have been feeling painfully vulnerable since the church took hold of my home.” He patted the thick traveling hides he wore. “I wouldn’t mind a suit of armor and a few weapons that might hold up to a dragon.” He looked over at Athala. “If we can figure out what such a thing would look like.”

  “We can’t be throwing our money around too much, though,” Elise cautioned. “If we walk into town and buy an entire armory the first day we’re here, that’s going to bring us the wrong sort of attention.” She leaned back in her chair, swirling her mug of wine. “We should get the lay of the land first. I can take you both around and we can see the sights in the early morning before we get serious about any shopping.”

  “Um,” Athala said cautiously as she leaned over t
he table. She whispered in a conspiratorial way that was more obvious that had she spoken in a normal voice. “We do kind of have a job to do here before we can think about goofing off.”

  Elise and Ermolt both sat in stunned silence for the span of a moment.

  “Wow,” Elise said finally, chuckling. She leaned forward and clasped the wizard on the shoulder. “You’re the one keeping us on track? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Well, it could be worse,” Ermolt said. “I mean, it could be me. When I’m the one trying to get us down to business, then you know it’s serious. Usually people are injured.”

  Athala squirmed uncomfortably under Elise’s grip. “We just have no idea where to begin on this.” Athala shook her head. “It’s not even that we aren’t sure of how to give ourselves the best chance of killing a dragon, we don’t even know where it is, or how to get to it.”

  “Well, isn’t it just going to be in some crazy tunnels underneath the temple?” Ermolt said before taking another drink of beer. “Seems a reasonable assumption to me.”

  “Pretty unlikely,” Elise said before she pointed toward one of the walls. “Did you not see what’s out there?”

  “Um,” Athala said as she looked in the direction Elise was pointing. She seemed the think through it a moment. “Farmland?”

  “No. I meant the ocean.” Elise sighed. “The ocean—”

  “North is that way,” Athala said as she pointed helpfully.