Chapter 7

Walking the walk of the gallows, I opened the smithy door and peeked in. “Well?” Richard called out while eating a sandwich, his usual mug of ale beside him.

“Sorry.” I didn’t know what I was sorry about, I just felt that way.

“Deana, your friend is here.” The larger blonde smith came out from the back and she was pissed.

“Sorry,” I repeated. She echoed me. Then we both began to speak at once. Stopped and waited for the other, then both of us began again. Later it would be funny. I stopped her at the next pause. “It seems your fiancé doesn’t like me. I’ll...”

“Jin isn’t my fiancé.”

Huh? “But Richard said...” What did Richard say? I didn’t remember.

At a stern glare from his granddaughter. Richard hid behind his meal, pretending to not hear anything. “I never said I would marry him. He is funny but I didn’t like his temper. Besides, Uncle warned me a long time ago that he was just after the shop.” Uncle? That was the first I heard of an uncle.

A weight lifted from my soul. An uncontrolled smile lit my face in response. “Will you mind if I turn his head into particles next time I see him?”

“Particles?” My friend asked me.

“Mist. Pretty please? Can I?” I begged sincerely.

“You can’t. You will go to jail if you kill Jin.”

“So, you are saying it’s Okay if I don’t get caught?”

“That’s not what I said,” Deana frustratingly declined.

“I won’t get caught. Don’t worry.” Of course, she worried even more after that. The snort at my statement from the peanut gallery didn’t help my cause any.

“Deana. If he dares approach me within arm’s reach, I won’t hold back. What he said was unforgivable.” My anger had worked itself out earlier in the Mages Guild but I still held some resentment.

Or lots even. And I didn’t have the foggiest idea why, which bothered me more than the anger did.

“Please don’t kill him. What he said to you wasn’t right.” At my fallen expression. “Hateful and cruel. I know. But our families have always been close.”

“Fine. As long as he doesn’t provoke me again, I won’t act.”

“I have to get back to work, Sir Derrik is expecting his crest to be finished by 2 day.”

Having time to kill and irritation to work off, I sought out a glass blower. The first one only did flat pieces for windows and fixtures. When I tried to get information on decorative or creative pieces, I angrily was shooed out. After inquiring in a few other places, I ended up being directed to a good-sized shop in the poorer area. Not the slums. I did my best to keep out of that area altogether.

Yuiels’s had a wooden sign overhead with four petals of clear glass creating a pressed flower motif. The front area was small with only a few small clear animal pieces behind an older glass case. Bears, birds, rabbits and goats. The detail level was good. Not great, just good. The wide-open area behind the building length counter was partially blocked off by sections of sewn together curtains with a gap to the side. This, and the attached blacksmith, were the only buildings made of brick in the quarter, as far as I could see.

A woman’s holler from the back asked me to wait. I assumed it was to finish rolling out something. My peeking through the opening only revealed so much, other than that there were two couples hard at work.

Five minutes later, a fortyish half bald woman, with more than a few scars on her face, head and hands, ducked in between the curtains while wiping her hands with a clean rag.

“What can I do for ya?”

“I have an old aunt and uncle in Hamlin that I want to send a gift to. Something about yea big and not too fragile. I was thinking of a dahlia flower similar to the one in Guildmaster Trent’s yard.” I found out what type of flower was planted in Emile’s yard from Marcene.

“We don’t do much color here. It’s too expensive.”

“Are you able to make the flower out of glass? Six or seven inches plus stem would be best and a finer quality then the bear over there.”

“I can,” she hedged, “but it will be two silver ten copper.”

“If I ask for it in lavender, how much and how long?”

“Can’t do lavender.”

“What can you do?”

“Charie, get me my purple scarf. The one from last night.”

I pretended not to hear the cursing or grumbling. Less than a minute later a tired looking middle-aged man, I had no idea how to guess his actual age, slapped a light purple scarf on the counter and returned to whatever he was doing.

The obviously worn and wrinkled silk scarf had faded and lighter areas, only keeping its true purple at the ends and a wave in the middle. To be in this state, it had to be ancient, or very poorly dyed.

Showing her the area of color I hoped for, the proprietress pointed at a different shade, one a little darker. “That I can do.”

“Green stem? Any dark green will do.”

“I have a little copper left.”

Not that I had any clue which mineral gave what color. I would have to trust her judgment. “How much and how long?”

“Have to finish the blasted mages order first. Then get the Manganese from the alchemists.” Manganese was purple? “The rest of the minerals I have enough of. Eight days give or take. Four silver, seventeen copper. Half up front.”

I placed three silver on the desk without haggling. “Thanks, the better you do, the higher the bonus. I plan on more custom orders if you do well.”

“Maggie, we got a fish. I am off to see Squiggy.”

That was odd, I thought early glass was nowhere near the crystal-clear pieces I saw demonstrated today. In fact, Richard’s windows were clear too. Huh.

Having some time to kill, I headed over to the Adventurers Guild and bugged Theresa for a while before washing up there and heading to the Baron’s for dinner.

The street leading to the Baron’s keep was lined with medium sized stone paired townhouses. A small gated yard protected each pair from casual trespassers. I guessed that this was the street of Powers that Be in Belfast, each had their real homes outside the city like Trent’s but they needed somewhere showy to stay in the city itself.

After meeting the Baron later and walking this street, only the slums, which I had no interest in visiting, and the Street of the Gods were left. I had even less interest in them than the slums. On the two occasions that I saw an obvious priest or priestess, they were being followed by a convoy of supporters forcing everyone out of their path by their mere presence. I suspected that both groups were followers of the same goddess, but I didn’t know which one.

Either way, I avoided the confrontation and stayed away from that sector of the city completely.

A tall gray painted iron fence vanished in both directions, starting at a pair of matched guardhouses on either side of the road that lead up to the keep proper on the far east side of the city.

Two pikemen were standing guard outside in a relaxed but attentive pose. “Halt.”

“I have an invitation to see the Baron.” I held out the scroll I received. A third guard came out from the stable to the left and accepted it with a quick glance. He led me past the two after they retracted their spears and into the smaller than expected keep. Thinking back on it, those German castles from old movies probably weren’t all that realistic.

Once inside, the guard passed me off to someone slightly older than I, attired in a thick red shirt and yellow pants. The baron’s colors. The guy looked me over and perfunctorily muttered ‘follow me’. Nothing else. Not the friendliest of environments. It was another odd thing in a fucked-up day.

Knock. Knock. “My Lord, a Lady Cynthia is present.” After receiving permission, the page opened the thick but plain door to the Baron’s office, closing it behind me once I was inside, without entering himself.

The room’s main occupant was a bald man my dad’s age, pretending to work. I had seen enough of it from my colleagues and the assistant plant manager to recognize the atmosphere instantly.

Finding one of the common under-stuffed, over embroidered chairs, I sat. “Take your time. I’m early.” A hint of smile revealed itself at my lack of self-introduction or use of his title. The large windows had pale red curtains completely drawn aside. Along one wall closest to the Baron’s desk was a tall blind. He must have spent considerable time here if he worried about the sun moving enough to shine in his eyes as he sat at the desk.

Rows of filled bookshelves and cabinets lined the walls. Further enforcing that this was his real work area.

Giving me enough time to acclimate myself to the room and his presence, the Baron finally spoke, “Lady Cynthia, I have been hearing your name quite often since your arrival in my city.”

“Sorry about that. Stupid Basilisk ambushed me.”

“Why do I have the feeling that your name would still be known?”

“Cuz I’m cute?” I smiled.

He laughed unreservedly at my joke. I had even a better impression of the man than when arguing with Richard. “Welcome to my city, Lady Cynthia. I am Lloyd Vestor.” I detected no pretense. “Please call me Lloyd.”

“Cynthia for me, Lloyd.”

“I have read and received reports and descriptions of your fight with the beast. I heard you gave a Telling in the Adventurers Guild. Would you please share with me?”

“Which version do you want?” I couldn’t help smiling at his request.

“The one you told to Master Richard.”

“I was terrified,” the smile left his face, “the simplest mistake would have cost me my life.” He nodded for me to continue. “I used his size against him and focused on reducing its mobility. I know that you have a report that one leg was nearly destroyed where the others all had targeted damage. Once I figured out his weakness, my task became much easier.”

“And what was Her weakness?” Lloyd corrected me. Not that I cared if it was a he or a she.

“The upper tendon on the leg. When that was severed that leg lost all mobility and collapsed.”

Surprisingly, the Baron asked me to show him on a realistic nine- by seventeen- inch painting that he unrolled. Using my fingertip, I traced the under top of its leg near the joint. “Right here is a thick tube-like tendon, similar to the back of your ankle. After that broke that leg collapsed.

“Once I knew what I was looking for, the other three legs took less time and effort to disable than the first one.”

“The head?” he prompted me to continue. He had to have already received a detailed report from all of the parties involved.

“Behind the eyes and further to the back of the head should be where the brain is located. I made a guess and focused on that spot until I broke through her thick skull. Thankfully I stunned her with my early strikes, so its attempts to throw me off weren’t successful. My repeated blows kept it senseless. After that, it was just a matter of time until I broke through the bone.

“What about its poison?”

“I didn’t learn that it was poisonous until after I woke.”

He did not ask the follow up question that I expected. The one everyone wanted to know. Instead, he asked a better one.

“How would you suggest for my knights to handle one like that in the future?”

“Don’t. I would set a deadfall trap. Stake out a deer or a goat, use lots of poison and spells, unless its immune to other poisons. The tail is probably more dangerous than the head. The force of the tail’s blow will kill a man and its reach is greater. If you can convince a group of mages to block in the head with stone and iron walls, have your knights take turns using their martial skills striking the back of its head, running off for the next set of knights. Once you break its brain pan it’s dead. Blinding would help too, it might not breathe if it can’t see. It might though, I don’t know.”

“What about its breath weapon?”

“The beast should have no reason to use it unless there is a threat that it can see and identify, like a mirror or a target. If it looks like it is going to breathe, evacuate the area, use wind spells to clear out the residue and resume your assault.”

“The poison?”

“The knights had potions and use the services of priestesses, the mages shouldn’t need any, just the ones with martial skills should. If all of the attacks are targeting one location and the basilisk’s movements are restricted then killing it should be routine as long as no mistakes are made. And it doesn’t break free.”

“If it does break free, what then?”

“Lead it back into the forest and run away. Make new plans from what you learned and try again. Staying alive to learn is the key.”

“Thank you for your analysis. One last question and then we can eat.” I waited to see what he wanted. “Why did you only want the plume?”

“I liked its looks.” I didn’t think he believed me, but accepted my response at face value.

“You liked the looks of it...” he shook his head and stood formally. “I thank you on the behalf of Belfast and the Kingdom of Swords. You saved many lives with your amazing actions that day. In your stay with us please let me know if I can aid you in any way.”

“Thank you, Baron, I like your city and its people. Most everyone has been nice to me so far.”

‘Lloyd’ helped me up from the intentionally uncomfortable chair, personally leading me to dinner. His wife had died in childbirth with their fifth child, a son, who didn’t survive either. The other four of his children were all girls: two were married, one daughter with child and another had two sons already, though neither grandchildren were over the age of three. His youngest two a ten-year old and sixteen-year-old Ann, who left a very poor impression on me and apparently everyone else in the city, according to Richard’s observations joined us at dinner. Ann had the Pampered Princess syndrome.

The youngest, Libby, acted reserved so I had no idea of her real personality. The husband of the eldest, Lacy, was a merchant who kept steering the dinner conversation to trade. Something I had little interest or knowledge in. Lloyd righted the conversation when it drifted too far from a pleasant social PC dinner with an unknown VIP.

Besides answering my background, the rest of my responses were genuine and open. The Baron must have scripted the dinner before my arrival. Not that I blamed him in the slightest. Strangely, only one guard was present in the initial meeting with the baron and in the dining room. Though guard wouldn’t be my first guess even if the man dressed like one. If the man wasn’t an adviser, I would eat my boots.

After a dish of chilled fruit, the family was dismissed and the Baron personally walked me out to a carriage to deliver me home to the Shield.

“Thank you for an interesting evening, Baron Vestor.”

“I look forward to your future exploits.” We parted with a slight lie on his side.

After asking Yvonne to get me a pitcher of water and some bread from next door, I plopped in my room and thought about my day. Particularly the strange Baron. He definitely got what he wanted from me, but I had no clue what that might have been.

I refused to think about my overreaction to that bastard from this morning and what prompted it.

And why that word bothered me as much as it did.

“Well?” Lloyd sat down wearily with his whiskey. It was the only decent one his family made and reserving a cask for his personal use was one of his few vices.

“With the willing cooperation of the Mages, her method could work. Thankfully, we have little to fear in that. Basilisks are very territorial and none should be found within a hundred miles. It was probably looking to mate and we were lucky it chose this direction.” The ‘guard’ replied.

“Lucky?”

“It’s dead, you received your percentage, the mages are happy, the merchants are happy, the Order is happy. I call that lucky.”

“Any new word from Mother Vennon?”

“No, Lord.

“Continue.”

“She is not from this kingdom. Her tableware usage is slightly different than the standard. The accent is from a region I am unfamiliar with. Her skills are genuine. Her intellect is well above what she is revealing. She has abilities that the Local Mage Guild ... let me rephrase that. That all mages would kill for. Both, Sirs Xera and Lakewood, attest that a brilliant light burst forth from her being when she was in the early stage of petrification, which removed the curse. The creature’s subsequent breath attack was ineffective. The poison did not kill her, even though she was covered from head to toe in the Basilisk’s blood.

“The priestess on the scene’s medicine and Healing was not what saved her Ladyship. It is well known that the preventive potion from the alchemists needs to be ingested before contact with the blood for it to be effective, and it has a short duration. Priestess Mave is not strong enough to negate the poison of the Basilisk without it being diluted by the potion first.

“When questioned, Priestess Mave refused to speak of what happened that afternoon, citing the usual goddess protection. Priestess Mave left the scene after a one-sided heated confrontation with her Ladyship, which worsened the relations of the Order with the Temple of Aune.”