CHAPTER FOUR

The old merchant Severin was a man who had seen seventy summers and then some and he looked it though he was as strong and as spry as a man of fifty, which wasn’t really saying much as there countless potions and tonics that a man of means could avail of. That is to say, he walked without stooping or needing a cane.

He was wearing a pair of loose, green silk pants with red trimming over which he had on a similarly styled and colored silk robe. A couple of gold chain necklaces hung from his neck and a single gold ring upon which was set a large emerald adorned his right hand.

With great deliberation, Severin took out a white handkerchief from a pocket hidden in his robe’s sleeve and wiped the sweat from his bald pate and his right temple, a look of relief coming over his face.

“Oh, um,” Rolf stammered, “er, good evening, Master Severin. Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’m so glad I found you,” Severin finally said. “I was beginning to fear you had left town already. Why, I heard tell you were fixing to leave this very evening.”

“Indeed we were,” Rolf replied, “and we should have gone hours ago. We are terribly late. Due at Redmound by morning, if you must know, for a very important appointment. I can’t tell you any more than that, I’m afraid. You know how it is. Client confidentiality and all that.”

“So if you’ll excuse us, Master Severin,” he continued, “we really must get going.”

Sven nodded in agreement.

“Ah, no,” Severin protested. “Please, my friends, I have urgent business with you and I am prepared to pay you handsomely, I assure you, for I am in dire need of your services.”

“I know you’re good for it,” Rolf stated, “but--”

“Then stay and listen to what I have to say at the very least.”

“But,” Rolf persisted, unwilling to give the man any more chances to speak lest his words sway him, “that is not the issue here, I’m afraid. As I have already mentioned, time is of the essence. I’ve been working on this deal for more than a week now and if we don’t make it to Redmound by morning, we’d lose the contract. It’s a pretty sweet gig. Pays quite well for the labor involved so as much as taking another job sounds tempting, we simply don’t have the time.”

“And the perks,” added Sven. “Don’t forget about those perks you mentioned before.”

Rolf grinned. “Yeah, them, too”

Severin paused, his lips pursed in thought. After a while, he said, “Very well then, my friend. As much as it pains me to do this, you leave me with very little choice. Between your urgency and mine, I deem mine to be of higher priority. Whatever you’ll be receiving from that contract, I will pay it if only you would stay and listen to my proposal.”

“What!?” Rolf and Sven exclaimed in unison.

Rolf could scarcely believe his ears. To hear such words issue forth from the old merchant’s lips was the last thing he expected. He was actually expecting Severin to call in one of the favors he owed him.

“Surely you are jesting,” he managed to say.

“Oh, I am serious, I assure you,” came the answer. “I will pay you what you had hoped to earn and with your time thus reserved, we may converse without reservation. Now come, my friends, let us retire to a table for we have much to discuss and I hope to send you on your before the waking of the midnight lark.”

“But you don’t even know how much we were going to be paid,” Rolf continued to protest.

But Severin was quite adamant. “I will pay it nonetheless,” he said.

The two adventurers looked at each other.

“Your call, man,” Sven stated.

Rolf sighed and then shrugged in surrender. It was clear that the old merchant was not going to take no for an answer. Any further refusals on their part was simply going to result in him calling in a favor, he was sure.

“Alright, Master Severin. You win. We’ll hear you out. No promises though. But first, Sven and I need to take this besotted friend of ours back to her room.”

Rolf paused.

“Wait,” he said, “where’s Yumi?”

Much to Rolf and Sven’s dismay, they found her back at her table, a tankard of hard ale in each hand. 

CHAPTER THREE

“Sven! Rolf! Sven! Rolf!” Yumi continued in her boisterous giddiness as she hung on to Rolf and hugged him tighter, swaying from side to side.

“Ack!” Rolf cried. “Get off me! We don’t have time for this!”

He struggled ineffectually to get her off him. Eventually, Yumi let go and slumped to the floor in a giggling, drunken heap.

“I love you guys!” she hiccuped.

“Phew!” Rolf said then, fanning the air in front of him with his hand. “You reek, girl! Just exactly how many barrels of alcohol have you been drinking?”

“Heaven’s Beard!” Sven exclaimed with a grin. “I can see the fumes coming out of her.”

Yumi giggled again. “I wasn’t drinking. I was celebrating.”

“Too much from the looks of it,” Rolf stated sternly. “You’re drunker than a fish in a wine barrel. You need to get your ass of to bed and brace yourself for one hell of a hangover in the morning.”

Yumi sat up straight and slowly raised her right hand. Her hand wavered in air momentarily as though she was looking up at multiple Rolfs before pointing in the wrong direction.

“No,” she declared. “Shows what you know. I don’t get hungover. The trick is burning it all off before it starts to hurt.” She hiccuped. “Besides, I’m not drunk. You’re drunk! There. See? You’re swaying so badly there’s three of you.”

Sven bent down to pick her up and help her back on her feet.

“Now, now, Yumi,” he said. “I think you’ve had enough. On your feet now. There you go. That’s a good girl.”

He turned thus to Rolf and commented, “We better take her room before we leave town.”

“Yeah,” Rolf agreed with a sigh. “I suppose there’s no helping it. Hey, Yumi, where you staying at?”

“Noooooooo,” Yumi protested. “You sound like the guys at the other taverns! I wanna drink some more!”

She turned and waved to the barmaid.

“Hey, Bella!” she shouted out loud. “More ale! Get some for Rolf and Sven, too! Time to get this party started! Wooo!!!”

And that’s Rolf when remembered Severin.

“No, wait!” he blurted out. “Not so lou--”

“Ah, Rolf, Sven, there you are,” Severin called out as he approached them. “Just the men I’d been looking for.”

“Oops,” Sven murmured.

Rolf buried his face in his right palm and slowly shook his head.

Damn it. They got distracted. He was right. She was bad news after all.

“And more cheese!” Yumi added.

CHAPTER TWO

“Tsk!” Rolf mumbled as he watched Yumi down a tankard of hard ale and shout out for more. “Now there’s another problem for ya.”

Yeah, she was bad news alright.

Not that she was a bad person. On the contrary, she was actually a nice girl when you get to know her, good for a laugh though a bit rough around the edges and her table manners left a lot to be desired. Still she was quite dependable and handy to have around particularly in tough situations. Yeah. She swung a mean battle axe, that one. A couple of them, in fact.

She was bound to notice and recognize them should they try for the kitchen. She would raise such a fuss that Severin was sure to notice, even over the din of the crowded room.

Rolf glanced over to where the old merchant was, who by now had made his way to the nearest table and was talking to the three men there. One of the men shook his head in response to Severin’s queries. Rolf could easily imagine what they were.

Any other time he would have walked over to Yumi’s table and gladly sat down for a pint or two. She looked like she was celebrating something. But considering the situation they were in, they could ill-afford any attention and delay. As it was, they were already running late for they needed to be at Redmound in the morning, a journey that normally took a whole day on horseback.

Looked like they were going to have to risk going out the window after all. Too bad the tavern didn’t have private rooms in the first floor.

As he stood there considering their options as he thoughtfully stroke his long, drooping mustache, a loud, booming voice called out from behind him.

“Hey, what’s the hold up, Rolf?” it went. “Thought you’d be tending to the horses by now. We’d have to ride like mad men all night to get to Redmound on time, you said, and yet here I find you skulking about like a common brigand.”

Rolf turned around to see his partner, Sven Whilwright stepping off the last step of the staircase at the end of the short, narrow corridor.

Hailing from the country of Holviland, Sven with his red, short-cropped hair, clean-shaven face, heavy plate armor that covered most of his body, and thick, fur-trimmed cape cut the typical figure of an easterner.

He was a mite short for an easterner though. A few inches short of six feet. And his strong, deep baritone voice only served to accentuate his lack of height, which never failed to lighten up Rolf’s mood.

Sven would have made an excellent drill sergeant with that voice of his and with his family background, he could easily manage it. He could even become a commander of the royal army. But instead he opted for the life of a mercenary, a member of the Broken Blade Guild.

Rolf gestured to his companion to quiet down. “Not so loud. Severin’s out there, looking for us. We can’t have any more delays or we’ll never that appointment in time. We’re late enough as it is.”

Sven arched an eyebrow. He looked over Rolf’s shoulder and shrugged.

“So?” he asked. “What’s the problem? Use the crowd as cover and go out the back. I’m sure Helmut wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, I thought of that,” Rolf replied. “But there’s--”

He was cut off by an excited shriek.

“Rolf!” Yumi yelled on the man’s back and threw her arms around him. “Sven! I thought I recognized you guys!”

CHAPTER ONE

 
Rolf Simonson peered around corner and into the main room of the Custard Fern Tavern. He was partially hidden by the ornamental plant hanging from a chain set in the ceiling, the plant’s long, waxy leaves dangling from the copper pot to the floor three feet below.

There was nothing more he wanted at that very moment than to step out into the room and walk out the front door. There was a job waiting for him and his partner at the next town. A big one but not one they couldn’t handle, he was sure. After all, they had taken on far more difficult jobs before so it was easy money as far as he was concerned. And he had bills to pay.

Problem was, he had gotten wind that the old merchant Severin was looking for him, no doubt for some job he’d want him to take on. He owed the man a favor back when he was still a rookie. Well, several favors in fact and Severin was bound to call in one of them. While he was sure that Severin would compensate them for their trouble, that job awaiting them in Redmound was a pretty sweet deal and he was loathed to miss out on it.

Rolf had a feeling that the old man was going to make an appearance that evening and sure enough, there he was, standing in front of the door. Most assuredly he was searching for him, looking around the room as he was with those sharp, calculating eyes of his.

“Damn it!” Rolf muttered under his breath.

He really hated it when his gut feelings turned out right as they never boded well which was often the case. For try as he might to capitalize on them, he usually ended up holding the short end of the stick.

Ignoring them didn’t fare him any better either.

Rolf sighed. Maybe he should have taken the window after all. He really didn’t fancy the idea though. He was a proud member of the Axe Slayers Guild, not some petty thief sneaking about in the dark of night.

Besides, the thought of Sven in his heavy armor clambering out the second-floor window and climbing down the side of the building without any climbing gear whatsoever all but dismissed the notion. The clumsy oaf was liable to fall and break something.

And where would that leave them then? More bills to pay and an empty purse.

Fortunately, the Custard Fern Tavern was a popular hangout place and so the main room was packed with both locals and adventurers alike. They could use the crowd as cover and make their way to the kitchen and then out the back door and Severin would be none the wiser.

That was a plan at least.

Rolf’s eyes widened as recognized the tavern patron, a young woman, seated at the table facing the kitchen door. It was Yumi.