Umber

The adventurers return from pirate hunting, more confused than ever about which side they should be on.

Fortuitously for suspense, a large band of travelers entered the inn just as Hanen was preparing to unravel the mystery of the pirate Ramis. He excused himself to attend to their desire for rooms and refreshment, leaving the children to speculate among themselves what turn the story might next take. Starton rose and went upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a thick, leather-bound book, which he opened near its end and began reading. As the other children argued the merits of what the adventurers should do and what they probably did do, Kirin tried to unobtrusively shift position until she could finally see the book’s spine and title: The Rise and Decline of the Great Kingdom and Its Aftermath. As her eyes left the raised gold lettering, she realized that the scholar was staring at her. He smiled and nodded, but even his pleasantries gave her a chill, and though she returned his smile she looked away as hastily as she thought decorum would allow.

Finally the innkeeper returned. Glancing down at Starton’s book, he saw that the open page was filled with references to the Scarlet Brotherhood. “You anticipate me, as usual,” he murmured.

For the sake of your inn, and my incognito, the scholar spoke into his mind, I hope you’re not planning to say that name aloud, even if these events happened years ago. I might have to be a bit more forceful than usual if their agents paid us a call.

“Fharlanghn forbid,” Hanen said softly, shuddering at the likely response should his neighbors and customers realize that the upstairs lodger was a balor. “I will be the soul of discretion, as always.”

I was afraid of that, Starton replied, but he looked more relaxed. While you’re being discreet, keep the Suel out of it too. If your audience is that interested in politics,and I doubt that they are, they can figure it out for themselves.

Hanen leaned down as if to study the scholar’s book. “One mistake and you’ll never let me forget it, will you? But I have other lessons to teach, tonight.” Then he moved back to the hearth. “Well now,” he said, rubbing his hands briskly as he sat down, “where were we?”

Jasper bounced up and down excitedly, shouting before anyone else could answer, “The adventurers were trying to figure out who the good guys and the bad guys were.”

“That’s right,” he replied. “To that end, our heroes – ” he nodded toward Anna as she opened her mouth to protest and added, “in the generic sense of protagonists – herded, carried or dragged their captives and comrade to the pirate ship, while Tenebrae and Pan returned to the Osprey for further information.”

“How did they know the captain of the Osprey wasn’t in on the assassination plan?” Erik asked.

“That was precisely the information Tenebrae was after. Her first warning sign was the captain’s obvious agitation at her news that the two other passengers were unconscious: he seemed far more concerned about them than her own comrades. Clearly subtlety was required here. Alas, she was in the company of a barbarian; as soon as Pan dimly realized what was afoot, he launched into all manner of threats and accusations. After soothing the captain’s growing rage, she sent Pan off with a sailor with aid for the fallen and, pleading illness, remained behind.”

“Now did she finally search their room?” Erik asked.

“Yes, after distracting the captain’s guards, and found two curious things: a piece of paper with the name of the Fisheye Tavern, and another that she was utterly incapable of reading at all, written in some strange language. She managed to sneak off the ship just as the captain was giving orders preparing for departure.”

Anna looked horrified. “He was going to leave them stranded?”

“It’s hard to say what his intent was. Tenebrae certainly couldn’t think of any beneficent motives to explain his actions, though, and ran back to the pirate ship as fast as she could. Ramis was conscious by then, and amazingly forthcoming with information, all things considered.”

“And he was a pirate?” Jasper asked.

“Yes, but not an independent operator. He was, in fact, plundering by order of,” he paused a moment for dramatic effect, “Irongate’s mayor.”

“I knew he was a crook!” Erik exclaimed.

Hanen held up his hand. “But wait, there’s more. You see, Varrus had earned his fortune more quickly than he should have – by smuggling.”

“So they were all crooks,” Erik said glumly.

“Erik!” Kirin sounded annoyed.

Jasper crowed with delight. “Finally someone gets in trouble besides me!” Erik opened his mouth to respond, but Starton noisily cleared his throat, and once again utter silence descended upon the children.

Anna looked perplexed. “But you said Irongate was a lawful place. Why didn’t the mayor just have Varrus arrested and tried?”

The bard let the question hang in the air for a moment. “There are places where the law does not easily reach. In this case, Varrus was a member of a secret organization, one so powerful and pervasive that the mayor dared not oppose it directly. On the other hand, he was not willing to lie down quietly and let them take over his town.”

Erik’s eyes focused on a distant point in space, images of hiding in sewers while devilish feet pounded past filling his mind. “So he fought the only battle he knew how.”

“A secret one. A subversive one,” Hanen agreed. “Ramis was not a saint, but he was honest enough for his kind, and knew where his best interests lay. So in spite of the fact that the adventurers had, however inadvertently, killed most of his crew, he agreed to take them back to Irongate, and gave them the names of a few people they could more or less trust. They had a running fight with the Osprey most of the way home, Ramis’ ballistae vs. Captain Roberts’ catapults, but they made it back.”

“What did they do with Varrus’ two henchmen?” Kirin asked.

“That was a matter of some heated debate. Pan and Yzzof were adamantly in favor of killing them, Basil, Carignane, and Tenebrae adamantly opposed. In the end, they handed him over to an agent of the mayor’s to deal with.”

“So much for their job,” Erik said. “I doubt if Varrus paid them.”

“No,” Hanen said. “But fate bringing them together had its own reward. During their sea voyage, they discovered a certain common interest: music. With Krunk as lead singer and the others as backup, they found they could make a little spare change performing at the better inns of Irongate. They called themselves The Scarlet Sunset.”

“Cheeky little bastards,” Starton remarked casually. “Seems to run in the breed,” he added, giving the bard a piercing glance.

Hanen smiled pleasantly. “Catchy name, I think.”

“Catching like horsemouth,” Starton muttered. The children looked from the bard to the scholar expectantly, but neither seemed to have more to say.

“Is that all?” Jasper asked, sounding disappointed.

The bard laughed. “Oh my, no. We’re just getting started. You see, our heroes,” Anna frowned again at the word, “found themselves in an awkward position. They were certain they’d made an enemy of Varrus, and probably of whatever organization he was associated with, but they’d yet to make any real friends. And so they went to see the mayor.”

Starton burst out laughing. “Such little minions – formerly this man Varrus’ little minions at that – seriously expected to gain an audience with Cobb Darg?”

Anna, forgetting herself for a moment, turned toward the scholar. “Well why not?”

As soon as his eyes met hers, Anna blanched and looked away. “If you wish to avoid such foolish questions in the future, little one,” he said sternly, “I suggest you obtain a map of the region and study it. Cobb Darg is not the Lord High Mayor of some provinical backwater.”

“Starton has a point. On the other hand,” Hanen said, “isn’t that temerity sometimes the stuff of which great heroes are made? Laying claim to that which the world claims you are not entitled, and somehow making it yours?”

“Great heroes, and great villains,” Starton responded pointedly, “and fools in early graves.”

“At least,” Erik said, carefully directing his remarks only to Hanen, “they rise above mediocrity.” If he had looked behind him, he would have seen Starton smiling. It’s a dangerous business, bard, what you are trying to nurture. And like the tiny one, I have a question:Is there more than this? Why did you tell me I would be interested in this tale?

“What does ‘temerity’ mean?” Jasper interrupted.

“I’ll explain it later,” Kirin said. “So did they get to see the mayor?”

“Carignane tried to barter the strange paper Tenebrae had found in exchange for entrance, to no avail. They finally parted with the document, though, and were told that an emissary of His Resolute Honor would contact them later.”

“And did he?” Erik asked.

Hanen laughed. “Yes, although by then they were so mistrustful that they not only refused to talk to him, they snuck out of town after dark to camp in the woods. The emissary had to track them down there. He was the one that relieved them of responsibility for their two captives. He conveyed the mayor’s gratitude for the document, which translators were working to decipher, and for the capture of Varrus’ men who, he was sure, would provide them with useful information. One way or the other.” Anna shivered, and Erik’s eyes glinted with satisfaction.

“But no audience,” Kirin said.

“Actually, they did finally manage to chat with Cobb Darg himself.”

“And how did they manage that?” Starton drawled.

“By starting a bar brawl.”

Erik snapped his fingers. “The Fisheye Tavern!”

“Excellent,” Hanen congratulated him. “The adventurers had been asked to gather information about Varrus’ smuggling activities, and it seemed as good a place as any to start.”

“I know if I were in search of sensitive information, starting a fight in a public place is the way I’d go about it,” Starton said drily.

“I suspect the Fisheye had seen more than one brawl before. And some of our protagonists were, shall we say, more volatile than others. Carignane, Quensel and Tenebrae sat down to chat with the barkeeper, while Basil, Yzzof and Krunk approached a table of ruffians who were gambling, but also watching the party a little too closely, and asked if they could join the game.”

“So when do we get to the fight?” Jasper asked eagerly.

Hanen smiled. “Now, if you’d like. Yzzof, being a dwarf of strong constitution and healthy appetite, drank ale at a prodigious rate. But on the second round, Carignane noticed the bartender pouring from a different keg than the first. Dissatisfied with the man’s explanation, he surreptitiously added a strong flavor to the pitcher as it passed. Yzzof noticed the change, as Carignane intended, and proceeded to pour the contents of the pitcher on the head of the ruffian bearing it, as perhaps Carignane did not intend. While certainly not a polite gesture, such an offense would not generally incur a call to arms, but then these men – ”

“Were crooks,” Erik said. Kirin glared at him, but held her tongue.

“Indeed. So they drew their weapons and launched an assault, just as Yzzof dropped to the floor senseless from the one sip of ale he had consumed.”

“Was he dead?” Jasper exclaimed.

“We’ve done enough jumping ahead for one story,” Hanen scolded. “You’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you?” He leaned toward the little boy. “I can tell you, though, that it was a fight worthy of any swashbuckling epic. Carignane and Quensel standing on the bar fighting off a pack of ruffians below, Krunk turning enemies to friends as fast as he could cast spells, the bartender cowering underneath his ale barrels, Pan blundering into the bar late and attacking innocent but well-armed bystanders who joined the fray and multiplied the chaos. Basil crept back to Yzzof’s body where it lay under the table and discovered that the dwarf was – ” he stopped, poised just on the edge of speaking, until Jasper finally squealed with anticipation, “- only asleep.”

Anna breathed a sigh of relief, but Jasper wrinkled his nose in something like disappointment. “Did they at least kill all the bad guys?”

“Only the ones they had to,” the bard replied. “Quensel ran for the city guard to deal with the rest. Before they arrived, Tenebrae searched around the premises.”

“Stole stuff, you mean,” Erik grumbled.

“She may have relieved dishonorable men of their ill-gotten gains,” Hanen said. “But good weapons and armor are far from free. So are the potions, herbs and scrolls that keep an adventuring party on their feet. If you were a traveling man, young sir, how would you meet your expenses?” A shadow of doubt crossed the boy’s face. “For I can assure you from very personal experience, singing in taverns does not a good rapier buy.” He looked from Erik to Anna and back. “Brave knights with untarnished weapons and untarnished souls are the stuff of fairy tales. The stories are pretty, but the reality is sometimes harsh.” Anna flushed crimson, and Erik stared down at the floor, but Kirin looked at Hanen thoughtfully. The sobriety of the moment faltered, however, as Jasper toppled sideways into Erik, fast asleep. “Put him to bed,” the bard laughed. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

The children trooped noisily off to their homes, and Starton pulled his chair closer to the fire while Hanen went behind the bar and returned with a bottle and glasses. “You still haven’t revealed this ‘something of particular interest’ to me,” the old balor reminded him.

The bard smiled. “You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow night.”

“Sometimes, Hanen,” Starton shook his head, “you really test my patience.”

“Someone has to,” Hanen replied. “Builds character. And if I don’t do it, who will?”

“’No one’ might be a refreshing change,” he growled, but there was little menace in his tone.

“You know you’d miss me if I were gone. Me and my Old Flinty,” he added, handing Starton a port-filled glass. He nodded toward the book still resting on the scholar’s knee. “Now that the innocents are gone, we can at least discuss politics.”

Starton raised his glass to the prospect, and the two of them stayed up talking until late in the night.