3. An enormous sum of gold #2
“As soon as she is able to stay in the saddle,” the mage replied.
He must have noticed Felix’s stunned expression because he added, “She’s a danger to anyone with even the slightest trace of magical affinity.
Her proximity alone can cause their instant death.
You saw what happened to my colleagues.” His face hardened. “She must leave the city immediately.”
Felix drummed his fingers on the hilt of his axe, then looked the mage square in the eye. “Two thousand up front.”
The mage didn’t even hesitate. “Done.”
Damn. Should have asked for three.
***
Felix’s first stop after leaving the estate was the boarding house where he’d been staying for months.
He washed off the grime of the night and changed into his own clothes and armour.
The familiar weight of his own gear was a relief after the stifling formality of the evening.
He settled his last bill with the landlord, slung his well-worn travel pack over his shoulder and stepped outside.
From there, he hastened through the narrow streets of the merchant quarter, his steps quick and his eyes darting to every shadow in the pre-dawn gloom.
The weight of the gold he carried made him uneasy.
It was enough to tempt even the most law-abiding citizen, and he had no interest in trouble.
Not tonight, at any rate. His destination wasn’t far, and he was relieved it was the midsummer festival as nearly every business stayed open all night.
As he got closer, he heard a roar rising from the crowd in the pits further ahead.
It was a shame he didn’t have time to pass by and beat Alwin’s ugly face to a pulp, but he supposed he had more important – and a lot more profitable – things to do now.
His trip to the moneylender was quick and all business, even if the man struggled to hide his surprise at the unexpected payment. Felix left debt-free, feeling like an immense weight was lifted off his shoulders.
“Hello, Felix,” an all-too familiar voice crooned behind him when he crossed the street.
Shit. He sighed and turned around. She was dressed for the festival, all colourful skirts and sparkly jewellery, her lute hanging off her shoulder.
“Mia. Shouldn’t you be at the Flagon?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Bad crowd. Half of them only show up to leer or request ‘The Lass and the Lantern’ for the thousandth time. The real question is, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing.”
She scoffed. “You’re walking out of Tobin’s office in the middle of the night to do ‘nothing’, in full travel gear, with a pack and enough steel to outfit a small militia.” Then she stepped forward and poked him in the chest with a pointy fingernail. He took an involuntary step backwards.
“You,” she said, “owe me an explanation before you run off to wherever it is you’re going.”
“For what?”
Her eyes tightened. “Weaver, Felix, are you serious? You spend practically every night in my bed for a month, and then you just disappear?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realise you got clingy, Mia. Guess I imagined it when you crawled in Titus’s lap right in front of me?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “That was business.”
“Yeah? You’re very enthusiastic in your business dealings if that was the case,” Felix replied, tilting his head and grinning at her. He knew Mia did not just make music; her chief trade was in other people’s secrets. That didn’t stop him from teasing her about it, though .
She pursed her lips and glared, but he could see her struggle to keep the answering smirk off her face.
“Asshole. He was incredibly disappointing, if you must know. Tragic, really. Waste of a nice-looking man.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t ask, but I’ll take your word for it.”
She took a step closer to him and fluttered her lashes. “So… where are you going?”
Felix backed away. “Just a job. Pays well, standard gig.”
Her sultry smile faded into a look of mild suspicion. “Standard gigs for you never pay well. What kind of job requires you to leave at this hour? On midsummer night?”
“Can’t say.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Bit of both. Sorry, Mia. Afraid your evening is doomed to be another disappointment.”
“Where were you tonight? Didn’t you have a guard job at a fancy party?” Her expression turned calculating. She was sensing a story.
“It’s really nothing special. Just a client who prefers discretion.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Those are always something special.”
Felix hoped she knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t tell her anything, no matter what she tried. He shrugged and crossed his arms.
After another long glare, she threw her hands in the air in surrender. “Ugh. Fine. When will you be back?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His grin widened.
She attempted to swat at him, but he sidestepped neatly around her. “Unsure. Not for a while.”
Mia clicked her tongue, looking away in an attempt to school her face into a scowl. “And what am I going to do in the meantime?”
“I don’t know, fuck someone else?” he said, then laughed and bounced two steps backwards as her hand shot out again. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
She huffed. “Don’t count on it.”
“Wouldn’t dare. Bye, Mia. ”
She blew him a kiss. “Bye, asshole.”
***
The pink and red light of dawn streaked across the lake as Felix returned to the Trevalyan estate.
Rather than heading for the main entrance, he skirted the estate wall and made his way to the small gate by the lakeshore as instructed.
A bleary-eyed guard waved him through with barely a glance, and Felix followed a winding path through the garden, the early morning air cool against his skin.
It looked like it would be a fine day for travelling.
A pavilion was set up near the bench where he had left Isolde, its pale fabric rippling in the breeze. Nearby stood two figures, their travel packs resting on the ground behind them. Felix raised an eyebrow. It seemed this would be a larger group than he had expected.
The pair soon noticed him. The first was a broad-shouldered man.
He was older – around fifty, maybe – with a warrior’s build, a clean-shaven, scarred face, and short-cropped hair.
The second was a woman. She was ruddy-skinned like an islander, and clad in the functional attire of a scout.
A longbow hung on her back, and her straw-coloured hair was pulled into a braid.
Her gaze swept over Felix, measuring him up as he approached. Her companion followed a step behind.
“You’re the mercenary?” Her tone was curt; her expression one of vague distaste.
Felix cocked his head. “Not a morning person, I take it? I’ll keep it in mind. Name’s Felix. Nice to meet you too.”
The woman rolled her eyes, but Felix caught the faintest twitch of amusement on the man’s face. She turned to him, her voice lower but no less sharp.
“I still don’t understand why we have to drag along this complete stranger just because he happened to be there. How do we know he’s trustworthy? He’s been off in town for hours! He could have been rounding up a rabble of thugs to –”
“Luella,” the older man interrupted sternly. “Lord Trevalyan and the mages want him there. That is enough for me, and it should be enough for you.” He stepped forward, extending a hand to Felix. “I’m Garren. This is Luella. We’ll be travelling with you and Lady Trevalyan.”
Felix shook the offered hand firmly, appreciating the no-nonsense introduction. “Good to meet you, Garren.”
His attention flicked briefly back to Luella, who was still giving him a wary glance. His eyes caught on a distinctive archer’s bracer on her left arm, made of a fine leather embossed with a bird in flight. When she noticed, her scowl deepened. Well, she seemed charming.
The prospect of additional company did not thrill Felix.
It made sense, of course, but his earlier conversation with the mage had given him the impression it would be only him and Lady Isolde, and he preferred working alone.
Perhaps Lord Trevalyan was questioning the wisdom of trusting his highborn daughter to some sellsword on a lengthy journey.
Maybe he had reconsidered hiring him at all.
Whatever the reason, the man wasn’t getting his gold back.
He looked towards the pavilion. It was unguarded and quiet.
“Lady Isolde is resting,” Garren informed him when he noticed Felix’s glance. “We will depart as soon as she is ready.”
Felix nodded, then wandered over to a garden bench nearby.
He dropped his pack beside it and sat down heavily.
He hadn’t slept since the night before, and the meagre meal he’d eaten before the ball felt like a distant memory.
Figuring he might as well take advantage of the wait, he turned sideways, propped his boots on the bench, and tugged his hood down over his face.
He wouldn’t sleep, because he didn’t trust these people, but he could at least rest his legs and close his eyes.
His moment of peace didn’t last. The woman – Luella – loomed over him, her hands on her hips. “Why would you take on a job like this? Do you even realise how long the journey will be?”
Felix lifted his hood just enough to glare up at her. “I do, yes. I took it because it pays well. Any other questions?”
“See!” Luella snapped, whirling to face Garren. “He’s only in it for the gold. He’ll turn on us at the slightest opportunity!”
Felix chuckled, leaning back against the bench. “Highly unlikely. The pay would have to be better than what I’m getting now, and that’s a bloody tall order. ”
Luella narrowed her eyes at him. “Hmph. Well. Are you any good?”
“The best you’ll ever have.” He winked at her.
She threw her hands in the air and uttered an exclamation in a language he didn’t speak, but he understood the meaning well enough.
He grinned and closed his eyes again, hoping that was the end of her interrogation.
He’d met women like her before in mercenary companies – tough, distrustful, and quick to anger.
In his experience, outrageous flirting was an easy solution.
They’d dismiss him as a fool and leave him alone or rise to the bait. Either way, it was a win.
As he’d hoped, he heard her huff, turn around, and walk away.