The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) (11 page)

Jacob had been relatively quiet during the
journey. Lee had tried many times to engage his son in
conversation, but the boy had little to say. A few times Lee tried
to teach Jacob sword techniques, and though Jacob learned quickly,
he could tell that his heart wasn't in it.

“
We'll arrive in Klinton by sundown,”
said Lee. The air was bitter cold. Jacob was bundled in a small
wool blanket. “We should change clothes before we get
there.”

“
Why?” asked Jacob.

“
We must blend in with a less than
savory crowd,” Lee explained. “If we're to get information, and not
be discovered, we can't march in as lords of Hazrah. There are
towns near the foothills of the Razor Edge Mountains where news of
Angrääl can likely be heard. The bandits and mercenaries make it
their business to know the comings and goings of the
land.”

Jacob sniffed. “So? We're a week from the
foothills.”

“
Yes,” said Lee. “But our deception
should be believable. I'm hoping to find someone heading north. We
can pose as sell-swords. Possibly hire on with a merchant. It will
go a lot more smoothly if we arrive up north in
character.”

“
And what makes you think that these
people will know anything about my mother?”

Lee shrugged. “They may not. But at least
they'll know the best way to get into Angrääl unnoticed.”

About an hour before they reached Klinton,
they stopped and donned clothing Lee had acquired from the
deckhands on the riverboat. Simple brown wool shirt and pants, and
travel-worn boots would fit in nicely.

“
These clothes smell,” remarked Jacob,
with disgust.

Lee smiled. “All the better.”

Klinton was little more than a trading post.
Miners and trappers used it to peddle their wares, so as not to
make the long journey south. Though not as dangerous as the towns
near the Razor Edge Mountains, it did attract highwaymen and
bandits of all sorts, hoping to find merchants foolish enough to
travel without an escort.

The street lamps were just being lit, and the
main avenue was still busy. The taverns still would be empty. Lee
hoped to get lodging before the local riff-raff took to drink. He
was familiar with this town, though he hadn't been there for many
years. The last time he was there, he had gotten himself into a
tavern brawl in which Millet was nearly knifed. He chuckled under
his breath at the thought of Millet scolding him after the fight.
He missed his company, now more than ever.

Lee led the horses down the main avenue, then
down a side street to one of two lodging houses. It was by far the
most run down.

“
We're staying here?” asked Jacob. His
lip was curled in disgust.

“
We'll be staying in far worse before
it's over,” Lee replied. “Compared to where we're going, this is a
palace.” He dismounted. “Stay with the horses until I get a room
and arrange a stable.”

Lee entered the lodging house and stood just
beyond the doorway. The main hall was sparsely furnished with a few
chairs and a wooden bench. An old blackened, brick fireplace in the
far left wall burned brightly. Still, the room was chilly and
unpleasant. A fat, balding man wearing a stained tunic was asleep
in the corner, a mug of ale precariously balanced on his round
belly. The lodge was otherwise empty.

Lee slammed the door shut, startling the
innkeeper awake. The mug fell to the floor, shattering and
splashing ale on the man's dingy trousers.

“
Bloody hell!” cursed the innkeeper. He
looked down at his spilled ale and grumbled. When he saw Lee
standing there he frowned. “What do you want?”

“
A room, fat man,” said Lee. “And be
quick. And send someone to stable my horses.” He reached in his
belt and pulled out two coppers.

This did nothing to change the innkeeper's
demeanor. “Do I look like a groom to you?”

“
No,” Lee replied. “Grooms are cleaner.
Now get off your backside, and have my horses tended.”

The innkeeper snorted, then threw himself to
his feet with a grunt. He walked over to Lee and snatched the
coppers from his hand. “Grant!” he bellowed harshly, spittle flying
from his mouth. A rustle came from behind the door just on the
other side of the counter. A moment later, a bent old man emerged.
Smiling a stupid, toothless grin, he moved with surprising
speed.

“
Yes, sir?” said Grant.

“
Go stable the horses outside,” growled
the innkeeper. “And don't take all night.”

Grant spun around and dashed out the door.
Lee followed. After unpacking their belongings Lee tossed Grant a
copper.

“
Thank you, kind sir,” said Grant,
almost groveling.

“
Just see that they're well-tended,”
said Lee.

“
Of course, of course,” Grant replied.
“You can count on me, sir.” He bowed low then led the horses
away.

“
What a wretched creature,” said
Jacob.

Lee looked at his son. “I would say pitiful,
rather than wretched.”

The innkeeper showed them to their room and
without a word, shuffled off, cursing under his breath. The room
had four walls, three cots, and nothing more. A cold draft seeped
in from the cracks in the rotten floor timbers and the window had
been boarded up.

Lee grinned at his son. “I've stayed in
worse.” He placed his pack in the far corner. “We'll find a meal
elsewhere. I doubt the good innkeeper will provide one.”

Jacob tossed his pack next to Lee's. “I hope
the food in this town is better than the lodging.”

“
Don't count on it.” Lee led Jacob from
the room and back to the main hall. The innkeeper had retaken his
place in the chair, holding a new mug of ale. “If anyone touches
our belongings, I'll hold you accountable.” He tapped the hilt of
his sword.

The innkeeper scowled. “Your things will be
fine.”

The nearest tavern didn't even have a name,
only a sign that read ‘Tavern.’

Lee surveyed the streets. The traffic had
thinned a bit, and Lee suspected that in an hour or two the lodges
and taverns would be full; he hoped with people that could be of
use. Inside was unremarkable, and typical for a trading post
tavern. Two long tables spanned the breadth of the room to the left
side, and several small tables surrounded them. A fire burned in
the hearth to the right beside a small bar. The bartender, a thin
waif of a man, was busy arranging rows of clay mugs. The scent of
cooked meat filled the air. Lee knew this would be replaced by the
stench of ale and unwashed bodies soon enough.

“
I suppose you'll be wantin' to eat,”
called the bartender, not bothering to look up.

Lee approached the bar and slid four coppers
to the bartender. “I'll be wanting information as well.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow, and quickly
shoved the coppers in his pocket. “That'll be fine.” He looked up,
his gaunt, unshaven face bore the lines and pits of too many
winters. “And what information will you be wantin'?”

“
I'll let you know,” Lee replied. “For
now, just bring me and my friend some food.”

Without another word the bartender spun
around and headed to the kitchen. Lee and Jacob took a seat at a
table, farthest from the door.

“
Do you gamble?” asked Lee.

Jacob shrugged. “When the urge strikes.”

Lee nodded approvingly. “Good. There will be
games, and I want you to join in.” He took two silver coins from
his purse and gave them to Jacob.

“
And what will you be doing?” asked
Jacob.

“
Watching,” Lee replied.

About halfway through their meal, people
began arriving. Within two hours the tavern was full to bursting,
and with just the sort Lee had counted on. Mostly locals lined the
long bench tables, but the outer tables were taken by a myriad of
tough looking characters. As Lee had instructed, Jacob joined in a
game of dice in the corner by the bar. By midnight, the place was
getting rough. Several fights had already broken out. In one, a
knife had been pulled and a local man was nearly gutted by what
looked to be a sell-sword. Luckily, it had been stopped before it
got too far out of hand.

Jacob was doing well at dice, and had nearly
doubled his money. This naturally did not sit well with the
regulars, who were accustomed to fleecing newcomers. Lee knew he
would need to keep a close eye on him. He made certain that a
pitcher of ale stay full, and constantly on the table, though he
only pretended to drink. Better to have all your wits. Jacob,
however, did not take such precautions, and let the ale flow
freely.

Lee took notice of several merchants,
accompanied by stout swordsmen. One particularly fat merchant was
letting his coin pass a bit too easily, and his tongue wag too
loosely. Before long he was boasting about his adventures and
wealth between long draughts of wine. The guard he had with him
looked irritated, and more than a bit on edge. The bartender had
told Lee that the merchant had dealings in the north, and always
stopped there on his way to Angrääl.

“
You accuse me?” Jacob's raised voice
snapped Lee to attention.

Jacob and three locals had squared off in the
corner, and Jacob's hand was on the hilt of his dagger. The locals
had already grabbed up bottles; one had brandished a small knife.
Lee leaped to his feet, and pushed his way through, to the
commotion. Lee made it just as Jacob was about to pull his
dagger.

“
What the hell is going on here?”
roared Lee. His eyes looked accusingly at Jacob. “What did I tell
you, boy? You'll send us both to the hangman's noose.” He stepped
in front of Jacob and roughly snatched him by the collar. “Get to
the table, whelp!” He pushed Jacob aside, nearly lifting him off
his feet.

Jacob glared. “They—”

“
I don't care!” Lee pointed to the
table. Reluctantly, Jacob walked away.

“
Your friend owes us money,” growled a
short stocky man, a wine bottle in his hand.

Lee faced the man, his eyes dark and
dangerous. “So you say.”

“
W-well...” he stammered. He looked to
his friends for support, but they recognized Lee as someone not to
be trifled with. “Just keep him away from us.”

Lee looked the men over, then pushed his way
past them. When he arrived back at the table, Jacob was cursing
under his breath, and draining a mug of ale.

“
Did you learn anything?” asked Lee.
His tone was not angry.

Jacob refused to look up. “Never touch me
again.”

“
Calm yourself,” said Lee. “I only did
that so we wouldn't have to fight those idiots. I have another
fight in mind.” He nodded towards the fat merchant. “He's been
drinking and boasting all night. It's only a matter of time until
someone tries to shut his mouth.” He reached over and took Jacob's
mug. “And if you're going to be of use, you need to stop this. Now,
what did you learn from the locals?”

Jacob clenched his jaw then gradually
relaxed. “All I heard was that there's been a lot of people coming
through from the north. Whether they're from Angrääl, they didn't
say. They also mentioned that winter came early, but that’s nothing
new. Other than that, they spent their time trying to switch dice
on me.” He pulled his winnings from his pocket and jingled the
coins in his hand. “They failed.”

Lee slapped him on the back. “Those dice
skills may come in handy. If we can't find employment as
sell-swords or bodyguards, we're going to run out of coins soon,
and I'm rubbish at games.”

Jacob smiled in spite of himself.

“
Shut your stupid mouth, braggart!” a
voice bellowed over the noise of the crowd.

Lee got to his feet. “Watch my back. And try
not to spill any blood...unless you have to.”

Across the room the fat merchant was being
confronted by two large men. Both wore swords, and were looming
over the merchant. His guard was unsure what to do and stood a few
feet behind, fingering his sword and shifting nervously.

Lee made his way across the room and
positioned himself behind the men. Jacob was on his heels. One of
the men had moved to the side and was eying the guard, who clearly
had decided to do nothing.

“
You say you fought off ten bandits?”
growled the largest lout. He pressed his face into the merchant's.
“Let's see how you handle me.”

The merchant, fueled by too much wine, didn't
back down. “You sir, would be a waste of time and effort.” He
glanced over his shoulder at his guard. “I'd rather just have my
friend deal with you.”

The man roared with laughter. “I think
your...friend, would rather not.” He looked at the guard. “I'll
give you this one chance to leave.” The guard paused, then turned
on his heels and left the tavern.

The merchant turned pale. “Well, ummm.” He
looked around the room. The tavern patrons were clearly enjoying
the spectacle.

“
What do you have to say now?” said the
man.

Lee stepped around, putting himself between
the man and the merchant. “That's enough.” Jacob moved to Lee's
left facing the other man. “Leave him be.”

The man sneered. “Who the hell are you?”

“
I'm with—” he turned to the
merchant.

“
D-Darius,” the merchant
stuttered.

“
I'm with Darius,” Lee continued. He
glanced sideways at Darius. “I think it's time to call it a night.
Don't you?”

“
Indeed,” Darius eagerly
agreed.

“
Jasper,” Lee said to Jacob. “Escort
Darius outside.”