“How much?” Rakatha asks through clenched teeth.
She laughs, then says seriously, “Two thousand.”
Vong can’t seem to help himself and imposes in the conversation yet again, “He doesn’t owe you anything!”
“This is between me and him,” the woman says curtly, her gaze fixed menacingly on Rakatha.
Rakatha’s thoughts are plain to see. He’s thinking about fighting, rather than paying, for his freedom. I’d really rather not be detained by the Watch as a witness to a murder and then have to explain my association with what would be adding up to a serial murderer. I don’t care if he did murder his master. I don’t care if he kills these people either. But it would undoubtedly inconvenience me and associate me with a violent criminal. That, I cannot have.
I glance over at Apul, who looks supremely confused and frightened over the exchange. Whether his worship of Rakatha will change after learning he was a mere pitfighter slave and not some hero of legend remains to be seen. For now, he seems to have at least picked up on the rising tension in the air.
Unexpectedly, the mood shifts. Rakatha untenses his muscles and hangs his head, “I can’t pay that. I don’t have the money.”
Is he admitting defeat? Will we need a new fighter when we get back to report in?
The woman appears quite satisfied and cocks her head to one side, “That’s right, you have nothing here. You are nothing here.”
“I can’t go back,” he says quietly. “Not yet.”
“You’ll go if I say you will,” says the shrewd woman, ”unless you pay up.” She looks him up and down, her domination seeming nearly complete. Shifting her weight to one leg, she flips her hand and the man behind her also relaxes, “I’ll tell you what. Give me everything you have and we’ll call it even.”
Rakatha looks up at her, surprised.
Vong looks at her, also surprised. He claps Rakatha on the shoulder and smiles, “Don’t worry, buddy, you can still stay over at my house.”
Rakatha, however, does not look relieved. The women looks smug.
“I can’t—,” he begins, but chokes down his pride and reaches for his belt pouch. He reaches in and pulls out all his money and counts it out: one-hundred thirty-four gold. He offers it to the woman, who quickly scoops it up.
She holds out her hand.
“He already paid you,” protests Vong, upset at her show of greed. There is clearly something else at play here and I am quite interested to know what it is.
Rakatha reluctantly unbuckles his belt and whips it off, causing confusion among the party. Are we fighting now?
Before the tension escalates once again, he digs around in the folded leather on the back of the belt and produces a faceted, red gemstone. It looks to be a ruby of considerable size and purity, with a bright, dragon-red color that practically glows. It is square cut and has notches on the corners. He stares at it a long moment before turning his head away and holding it out to her.
She laughs and picks it up, turning it over in her hand and showing it to her fighter, “Amazing.” She shakes her head in apparent disbelief—or something like it—then reaches in her belt pouch and pulls out a gold loop. She tosses it at Rakatha’s feet and says gleefully, “You’re free.” Then, with serious malice, “And if I ever see you again, I swear on the sun that I will take revenge for my sister.”
She then signals to her bodyguard and they walk off toward the south road.
The party seems stunned to silence, and Rakatha is seething.
Vong, of course, invites himself to start up a conversation, “Hey buddy, you okay?” He reaches down, picks up the loop, and holds it up for Rakatha to have.
Rakatha takes the loop and, in a very ceremonial way, affixes it to his ear, demonstrating that it is, in fact, an earring. He doesn’t seem too happy though. He glances over at the retreating woman and clenches his fists for several moments, before resigning himself to putting his belt back on and re-affixing his belt pouch. “Come on,” he says, “I’m hungry.” He starts off toward Nodkis.
The rest of the party follows but no one says much of anything the rest of the way.
As always, we are inspected for weapons and other contraband when we enter the city. Because we bear a permit from the Adventurer’s Corps, we are able to retain our weapons, but only until we get to our place of lodging. Wearing our weapons about town when not actively on patrol for the Corps is an arrestable offense that comes with a fine as further penalty.
It’s getting late when we finally step into the city and Rakatha seems like he needs some time alone, so we agree to meet up in the morning and check in at the Adventurer’s Corps headquarters.
I choose a different inn than last time and pay only for one night because I don’t know when we will be heading back out of town. I was spied upon at the last inn, so it is prudent to change whatever patterns or associations my stalker has gathered on me.
The Wordbearer Chronicles is a dark fantasy web series with new passages on Tuesdays.
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