Chapter Sixteen
THE NIGHT WAS A DAMP ONE. The wind rushing up the sides of the cliffs brought the sea mist with it. The streets and rundown shops were coated with a sheen of saltwater.
A sharp jab in my belly made me gasp.
Watch your claws!
Apologies. It is not my fault that your elven flesh is so pierceable. A weakness for sure. Perhaps you should try to grow scales.
“Seems doltish to me to stuff that lizard into your breeches. What if he nibbles on your cock while he’s in there?” Asdren asked as we made our way around drunks, whores, and a prophet preaching to any who would listen about the dark days of Melowynn that lay ahead.
The rattly call of a raven overhead bounced off the buildings. “There are few places left to hide him. They will surely search my saddlebags.”
“And they won’t pat you down for hidden weapons?”
“Perhaps, but he can move about.”
“You and that wyrm are worrisome.”
I ignored that. None would really understand the bond Jaculi and I now had.
It went past the friendship I shared with Hasulett or Click.
He had chosen me. We were linked. I could not explain it better than that.
He would protect me or die in the effort.
That I felt. And I would do the same for him, so I wished to have him near.
I shoved the dragon about in my drawers, his tail sliding downward to hang along the inside of my thigh.
Raucous shouting met us at the door of the Violin.
Leaving Hasulett at the town stables had been a good decision.
At least they seemed reputable. As reputable as a stable run by a man the size of an ogre sporting a hook for a hand could be.
I had seen and dealt with mangy sorts for years.
One does not grow up with bandits and not meet the most loathsome souls.
Standing just outside the door, I turned to Asdren. “You should stay at one of the bars. The note said to come alone.”
“You’re more likely to see your goddess step down from that cloud there and dance the high stone jig than you are to see me planting my arse on a stool while you go meet some cutthroat.
” With that, he pushed inside, stepping over a human woman lying on the floor, passed out with a rum bottle tucked into her bosom.
I peeled off to the right after seeing Asdren go left.
The horse tender gave me a nod as I neared.
“I’m here to see Lawful Larry,” I shouted over a fracas between two women and a parrot by the bar. Asdren had melted into the rowdy group with ease, it seemed. He already had a mug of ale in his hands, but his eyes were riveted on me.
“Wait here.” She ambled over to the bar, shoving a dwarven man with no teeth aside to speak with the barkeep.
The ugly, bald man wiped some foam from his cheek as he peered around the horse tender.
I reached out to pet the nose of a nervous, small, black mare.
A bard strolled by wearing a dress of fine satin as he strummed and sang.
The horse shied away from me, the scent of dragon adding to her unease.
I moved a few steps back to put her at ease as Jaculi clung to my undershirt.
I would look as if I had tangled with a sand cat by the morrow.
She returned to her post after taking a shot of an amber liquid at the bar.
“Head on up. Prescott will let you in after you’re cleared. ”
“Thank you.”
She belched a rum-scented burp into my face as a reply. I made my way upward, never stopping to gawk at the chaos on either floor. Climbing the spiral stairs once again, I found a shocking sight.
The troll looked up from his book. I had a moment of pure panic.
What in the name of Danubia was a troll doing here reading a book?
! He was huge. Perhaps not quite as tall as the mountain troll we had battled but nearly.
His skin was a lighter shade of blue-gray but there was no mistaking that a troll was sitting on a tiny stool reading a book.
He was wearing an oversized sweater with several moth holes and ragged trousers. His massive feet were bare.
“Good? Bad?”
I glanced about. He poked me in the chest with a finger. I nearly tumbled back down the stairs.
“I am good. Very good. I am here to meet with Lawful Larry. I have a note.”
He squinted at me, tapped his book to his large brow, which I now saw was a child’s picture book, and then reached back to open the door.
“Be good. No weapon.”
It was a warning I planned to take to heart.
“Thank you.”
I dug into my pocket and got a playful nip on my finger. Prescott took the note, stared at it and then ate it.
“Me look bag.” He rifled through my saddlebags but found nothing that could be used to fell this Larry fellow, so he handed them back to me.
A good omen, I felt. He’d not felt the dragon curled around my hips.
Perhaps if he had, he would have thought me well-endowed and made a pass, but I was spared that scenario.
I handed over my quiver, bow, and eating dagger before pushing through a thin wooden door. The air in here was less cloying. Jaculi wiggled upward to hug my chest, a sizeable lump that I wasn’t sure my leather breastplate hid well.
A brazier sat in the corner of a dimly lit room, smoke curling from a pile of imported Black Sands incense.
There were small tables everywhere with ornate carvings, brass lamps, or delicate glass figurines.
Amid the smaller tables was a large bed, currently filled with two naked males, snoring softly, and a large dining table.
My stomach rumbled at the rich buffet of food and drink bowing the dark wooden trestle table.
At the head of the table sat a man, elven obviously even if his sharp ears were shorter than the norm.
He was incredibly handsome. Sinfully so, with a regal nose and almost feminine features.
If not for the dark hair, I would swear I was standing before King Aelir.
Surely this was Coelum Cadere, the bastard prince.
The familial resemblance was too strong to ignore.
Black hair worn loose and long. Far too long for a common elf. Only nobility were to have hair past their shoulders. Of course he was nobility…
As I stepped around the table, my sight darted to a roasted piglet on a silver tray before returning to the lanky male balancing his chair on its rear legs.
He was lean, with long legs in plum breeches.
He had no shoes, socks, or shirt. Ink designs dotted his hairless chest, toned arms, and sides.
As I neared, the light from a hanging brass lamp illuminated him better.
Gold hoops adorned his ears. A small diamond glistened in his left nostril. His beauty was hard to ignore.
“Welcome to my rooms. Please sit, eat, rest. You must have traveled far and look the worse for wear.”
“I seek Lawful Larry,” I replied cautiously, sure of my eyes obviously, but not willing to divulge anything before I had proof he was truly the man I sought.
“You’ve found him.” His smile was brilliant and white.
One canine tooth was a bit longer than normal, which was truly the only flaw I could find about him.
Physically of course. He motioned to the food once more with an elegant hand bedecked with gold rings that shone in a rainbow of colors.
Jaculi would gnaw off his long fingers when he saw them.
“Although I am far from lawful, and if we’re being honest, and I think we have many things to discuss elf to elf, I am in actuality Larry the Tenth.
But you seem to be too well-informed to fall for such nonsense.
I am Coelum Cadere, son of Pontious Cadere.
My grandsire many times back was the original Larry, and I a mere humble thespian playing a role created by a true master. ”
“Master Pirate?” The aroma of a platter of roasted vegetables cooked in spices from the Black Sands was making my mouth water. The wyrmling in my shirt was slowly awakening. The scent of seared pig flesh reaching his sensitive nostrils, no doubt.
The pirate prince chuckled. “You say that as if being a privateer is a bad thing, Beiro Vahorn.” My eyes flared. “Please, do sit. Shall I call up your fearsome dwarven sellsword partner as well to join us?”
“I…no, that is not needed.” I sat.
“Wine?” I shook my head. “Water?”
“Yes, water,” I replied while my mind whirled about trying to sort how he knew of me. A drink would ease my suddenly dry throat.
He smiled, a most charming smile, then lifted a hand. With a swirl of his ringed fingers, the water in the pitcher rose upward and floated across the table to tumble into an empty wine glass. I gaped openly at him. He cocked a sleek brow.
“You possess elemental magic,” I whispered, the still settling water forgotten.
“Mm, born with it. Water whisperer.” He lowered his hand to the table, the glyphs disappearing.
“It’s a handy trait for a man who sails the seas.
So, Beiro Vahorn, you honor me with your presence.
Are you here to trade the life of a bandit and sign on to my vessel?
” I wanted to ask how he knew my name badly.
Yet I bit that back. “Oh, are you wondering how I know who you are?”
“The question is strong in my head,” I confessed as the wyrm in my underclothing began to writhe about, stretching like a dog after a long nap.
“As it would be in mine.” He took a sip of dark red wine, ran his tongue over his lips, and then swirled the ruby liquid about in his goblet.
The two in bed snored softly unaware of the meeting taking place a few feet away.
“Pay them no mind. They sniffed a bit too much ground tundra red cap and will be out for the better part of the day.”
“Ground red cap is a powerful hallucinogen.” I now worried about the two elves.