Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen 1)

“That’s all I needed,” Annon said, clapping him on the back. “Thank you.” He tightened his fist around the talisman and plunged into the crowd. The northeast corner was not fully crowded, as most of the betting and dice-throwing was happening near the front. A few patrons sipped slowly from mugs and gathered around tables, playing strange games he had never seen before. Some involved stone pieces set on a wooden board. Others had black-and-white discs. Most of these Preachán dressed well and a few smoked pipes, causing an aroma to permeate the air.

Annon studied the tables quickly and settled on the one with only a single man seated there, his back to the wall, his face in front of the room. He noticed Annon’s approach and muttered something under his breath. He had dark hair with wisps of gray and a prominent nose.

As Annon advanced, he leaned back languidly, folding his arms across his chest. “What business could possibly bring a Druidecht to Havenrook? Are ye here to buy some poetry, perhaps? I happen to own the finest collection outside Kenatos.”

Annon sat across from him without an invitation. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and folding his hands. “I have come at the behest of Tyrus Paracelsus of Kenatos.”

The man was startled. His look was suddenly grave. “Have ye?”

“He sent me to Havenrook to inquire of Erasmus.”

The man revealed nothing in his look, only sternness. “Did he now.” The tone of his voice indicated it was not a question.

Annon waited, staring at the man. He knew that silence had a way of torturing others into speaking. He won his gamble.

“My name is Dwyer,” the Preachán said softly. “I can take you to Erasmus, but I must first know your business.”

The Druidecht smiled. “Anyone who knows Tyrus Paracelsus knows he shares his business with no one. I will explain the matter with him directly.”

“Is it just for yourself or does it include the other two you entered with? You’ve already caught the eye of Kiranrao, it seems. It is better to remain beneath his notice, if you understand me.”

Annon gazed across the room at Kiranrao’s table. He saw Paedrin and Hettie together, their faces animated in a heated exchange. He turned back. “When can we see Erasmus?”

“He left shortly before ye arrived. It gets too rowdy here at the Millpond after dusk. I’ll meet ye behind the tavern. The mood is starting to shift. There may be a fight.”

“I will gather my friends and meet you outside.” He thought a moment about warning the man not to run, that the girl with him was a Finder, but he thought it best to say nothing and show him a little bit of trust. If he waited, good. If he did not, Hettie could use her skills to hunt him.

Dwyer slipped away from the table and Annon waited as Paedrin and Hettie continued their blistering tirade. Annon was sitting, somber and alone, when they reached his table. “We need to go,” he said softly.

“Did you find Erasmus?” Paedrin asked after slamming his palms on the table petulantly. He gave a half-jerk motion with his head back at Hettie who approached rapidly.

“No, but a man who treats with him. He does little business here at the Millpond past dusk. He left before we arrived.”

“How do you know the man isn’t leading us into a trap?” Paedrin asked levelly, keeping his voice low. He gesticulated suddenly, stabbing his finger toward Kiranrao’s table.

“I think we can trust him. He was a very different sort than the Preachán we have seen so far. Very cold and calculating. Not the kind who gushes and tries to sell you for a favor. He was surprised I even knew of Erasmus or how to find him here. When I mentioned my uncle, his countenance changed visibly. He’ll meet us in the back right now and lead us to where he does business. I do not think it is safe to deal here. Follow me out the back.”

Annon was glad he trusted Dwyer, for he was waiting just outside the rear doors of the tavern. He looked even more wary and distrustful, his arms folded across his chest as he waited in the alley for them.

“Tell me again why there are three of you,” he said suspiciously as they approached. There was no greeting.

Annon motioned to him. “This is Dwyer.”

Dwyer did not so much as shrug at them. “It is a long walk from Kenatos, lads, and before I take you to see Erasmus, I need to be clear the sort of business this is. Are you looking to wager with your uncle’s money? Is that it?”

Annon shook his head. “It has nothing to do with a bet.”

“Erasmus is not an easy man to negotiate with. He’s as stubborn as they come because he knows what he knows. He doesn’t suffer fools, and he doesn’t barter. He asks a fair price. He’ll not cheat you. But when he offers his price, he will expect it all. Not a pent less. He knows the value of things.”