The Death Dealer - The Complete Series Page 8

  “The Angel Tavern.” Grace looked at the old wooden sign hanging outside, quite worn from weather and time. The picture of an angel was cracked and faded, but one could tell the angel was once very beautiful when her paint was still fresh. “Let’s go get ourselves a room, then.”

  Donald held the door open for Grace and she stepped lightly into the common room. It was only midday, but the tavern was already bustling. Most of the fisherman and merchants of Glenbard were escaping the noon heat by taking their meal in the common room. The place stank of sweat, ale, and the faint smell of vomit. The heat always brought up smells that had long since been dead.

  Grace looked around and tried to get a feel for the inn, and sensed no real danger for her or Donald. The people within did not seem to care that two strangers entered. A few looked up, but only for a quick glance at the newcomers. Grace liked this place. She liked the idea that people might not care what she looked like or where she came from.

  Donald took her by the elbow and led her to the innkeeper’s desk. “Excuse me, sir?”

  A burly man with a balding head and scraggly gray beard looked at Donald. He was probably a strong man in his youth, but years in an inn had taken their toll on him. More specifically, in his expanding belly. “Yes?”

  “Are you the innkeeper here?”

  “I am, and who might you be, laddy?”

  “I am Donald and this is my friend, Grace. We are looking for two rooms to rent.”

  “Well you’ve come to the right place. There are plenty of rooms here…that is, if you’ve got the means to rent them.”

  Grace turned away as Donald and the innkeeper haggled over a room price and continued her scan of the inn. A group of people stood near the stairs. They seemed to be standing around an older, fierce-looking man who was seated, drinking from a pint and smoking a pipe. He had dark hair peppered with gray, a trimmed beard, and his dark eyes took in the whole room. Every now and again he waved his hand and one of his followers rushed off. A teenage girl with curly blonde hair sat on his right side. She had an intense look about her and looked as fierce as her male counterpart. Grace watched them for a minute before moving her eyes elsewhere.

  Finally, her eyes landed on a lone figure seated in a dark corner. His head was bent toward his food and drink, and he looked very sullen and angry. He sported short brown hair and a trimmed goatee, and was attired in black breeches and a gray shirt. He was the only person in the entire inn not conversing with anyone. As though he sensed staring eyes, he looked up and caught Grace’s gaze; each holding their stare. Normally others looked away under Grace’s watchful eyes, but this man just kept staring.

  They probably would have stared at each other until day ended, but Donald touched Grace’s arm and she was forced to look away.

  “We have two rooms. Let’s go unpack, Grace.”

  Calvin had given the two plenty of money to live on until they could get everything sorted out. Donald planned on unpacking and going to see what kind of work could be had around the port. His father was a carpenter in Arganis, so he hoped a carpenter in Glenbard had need of an apprentice. Their small store of gold should be able to buy an apprenticeship.

  Grace planned on unpacking and then going to talk to the innkeeper about being a barmaid for the inn. If that failed, she wasn’t sure what other jobs she could do that would keep her tattered dignity intact. She wasn’t even sure she could pass as a barmaid.

  ~*~*~

  Donald left and Grace found her way back into the common room. She strode up to the innkeeper’s desk and coughed politely to get his attention.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  “Yes, sir. I am in need of work and thought you may be in need of an extra hand around here, perhaps a barmaid? I would be grateful and indebted to you if you would but give me the chance.”

  “You’re awfully well spoken, aren’t you? Not really the way my serving wenches usually are. They’ve all put sailors to shame with their harsh words. But I haven’t the use for another wench, in any case. The ones I have are sass-mouthed women who aren’t worth what I pay them. I don’t need another one hanging around, even if she can fool us all with soft words.”

  “You have no jobs I could do for you? None at all? I promise I am not a sass mouth.”

  “I need another stable hand. You look too prim to be mucking out my stables, though.”

  “I can take care of horses for you. Horses, cows, any kind of animal. And I learn fast; I can muck out the stalls.” Grace had never mucked out a stall in her life, but the thought of going into Glenbard looking for work was terrifying. Grace didn't know how a woman could earn a living without selling herself, and she was not interested in such a move.

  The innkeeper looked Grace over. To his eyes she looked small and rather helpless, but he liked her determination and the fact she didn’t mind getting dirty for the job. Still, the Angel had only ever taken on sturdy young men to aid in the stables, not small, frail girls. “You’d have to start every day at sunrise and work until sunset. At sundown, Liam comes in to take care of the animals. You’ll be working with Mayhew, who likes everything done nice and fast and has no patience for anyone. He’ll work you to the bone and it’ll make no difference to him that you’re a girl. Think you can handle that? Plenty of durable men haven’t been able to.”

  “Yes sir, I can keep up and handle the stables.”

  The innkeeper held out his hand to her. “Name’s Jim Little.”

  “Grace.”

  “Be up bright and early tomorrow for your first day.” Jim smiled down at Grace. “You look plucky. Mayhew may have a hard time driving you away.” The innkeeper smirked but didn't share any more of his thoughts, and she had the feeling she was being made the butt of a joke.

  Grace was still quite pleased with herself, even though she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. All she knew about taking care of horses was how to groom, saddle and unsaddle one. She would manage, though. She would just have to keep reminding herself that she’d have more freedom here than she ever had at court.

  “Working for old Mayhew, are you?” Grace looked up and saw the teenage girl she noticed earlier. Now that she was closer, she didn’t look as fierce as she had at a distance. “He can be quite a pain. Hates everyone, except of course, those blasted animals.” She extended her hand to Grace. “Hi, I’m Ridley Hunewn.”

  Grace gladly accepted her hand. “Grace.” Again, she neglected to give her family name. Surely some bit of news had already been received in Glenbard about the shameful woman who tried to compete.

  “And new to Glenbard, I see. I noticed you and that man enter a while back. We always like to see strangers around here because they bring the best news. I love news from outside Glenbard and Ursana. That’s why I love tournament season; many of our merchants head to the castle area to set up shop, and they bring back the greatest stories of the tournament. I don’t suppose you have any stories from the tournament?”

  The girl clearly liked to talk, but she was friendly and didn’t seem to judge Grace as harshly as the women of the court had. Though at first glance she looked fierce and uninviting, now that she was actually talking to Grace she found all that sternness melted away. This girl clearly never had any real reason to be angry with anyone. “I actually come from Arganis, but I spent a few days at the tournament. What I saw was exciting.”

  “Arganis?” Ridley began; leading Grace toward an empty table. “We rarely get someone from so far north here. Only a few from there ever pass through, and most never stay to tell us about it. Or if they do, it’s always about the lumber business up north. How boring! They say that’s where The Death Dealer is from.” Ridley’s eyes brightened as she said it. “Have you ever seen him?” Ridley sat down at a corner table and Grace sat across from her.

  “Only once, just outside my village.”

  “Was he as wonderful and courageous as the tales tell?”

  “I did not get the chance to really speak to him. He was walking a y
oung woman home after she was attacked in the woods. He rescued her. He seemed quite dashing and heroic from what the woman said.” Grace felt guilty lying to her new-found friend, but The Death Dealer was not a secret easily laid out on the table. Even if it was, she didn’t want to let anyone in on it.

  Ridley sighed and got a wishful look in her eye. “I do hope one day I will get the chance to meet him. Glenbard needs someone like him hanging around. The king’s guards do nothing but bully us lower classes. They expect bribes or else no aid will be provided. How’s an honest person supposed to raise money for protection?”

  “That’s awfully funny coming from the Princess of Thieves,” the man Grace noticed before spoke from his corner.

  “Princess of Thieves?” Grace turned back to Ridley.

  “Around here we’re known as the ‘Fisherman’s Collective’, but most people call us the ‘Thieves Guild’; knowing full well none of us fish. Don’t look so shocked. People need to scrape a living around here. We don’t steal from our own class—often—not now that Marcus is in charge. We try to only steal from those who can afford it. We have honor, you know,” she snapped back at the corner dweller. “And we don’t attack folk in dark alleys, and we most certainly don’t kill defenseless people.”

  “You do not do those things, but there are those in your precious Thieves Guild that see to such deeds. And you steal and pick fights with rogue thieves. If your precious Death Dealer ever came to Glenbard, I bet he starts by cleaning out the Guild,” the man continued.

  “He would not! He only goes after bullies, and there is no one in the Guild who’s a bully.”

  “You live with rather strange delusions, Ridley. First you tell her the guards only bully the lower classes, when you know full well they usually only bully your kind. Now you tell her there are no bullies in the Guild? Ha! You forget that even Marcus took the Guild’s crown through murder and treachery.” The man’s rant complete, he looked down into his mug.

  Ridley turned away from the man in the corner and crossed her arms over her chest. She huffed loudly and angrily and took a few deep breaths. “It’s best if you stay away from Jack Anders. He’s just an old grump who tries to drag everyone down into his rut.”

  “I’m not old,” he said. Ridley ignored him.

  “Used to be a rusher at the Emerald Rose.” Grace shook her head, indicating she had no idea what that was. “Sorry, lass…the Rose is on the port side and is the most dangerous place in Glenbard. Murders are regular there and rushers don’t usually last more than a week, but old Jack lasted a year; breaking skulls, fingers and making troublemakers disappear. The experience has left him less than happy.”

  Grace looked over at Jack. He did not look to be much older than his mid-twenties. He did look a bit angry and his face was lined with cares, but underneath it all Grace saw a bit of decency. She wondered what made him so bitter. She looked away from Jack and back to Ridley.

  “What is the Thieves Guild, exactly?”

  “Oh, we’re a group of ‘scoundrels’ as the guards call us, who banded together for safety. Vandals, thieves, people down on our luck, that’s where we all come from. We give to our families and friends who need it. The city magistrates and guard captains have tried to root us out for years, but we’re clever. We can all sneak around and get into places most other people can’t. People judge us harshly because we’re comprised of thieves, but we don’t hurt other people unless they hurt us first.” She lowered her voice. “Jack is right about some of our ranks being just as bad as murderers, but we root them out best we can.” Ridley must have noticed the shocked look on Grace’s face and laughed. “Don’t judge us too severely. We’re not bad people, and old Marcus is our king. He makes sure we follow a code of honor around here.” Ridley motioned to the fierce-looking man Grace saw when she first entered.

  “And you don’t mind that your father does this?”

  “Don’t be fooled by the title ‘Princess of Thieves’. It’s no more than a term of endearment from some of the men.”

  “Marcus is not your father, then?”

  “He is like my father. My own pa was in the Guild, and when my parents died I came into Marc’s care. I’ve been in the Guild since I was six.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Sixteen, and I don’t regret those early years as a pickpocket or these last years as a full and proper member of the Guild.”

  Grace smiled and nodded. She became The Death Dealer to punish those who preyed on the weak and poor. And it’s true; she would have attacked the Guild outright if she had not learned all this information from Ridley. If the Guild moved with any force, she’d have seen her life in Glenbard end rather swiftly.

  She had to take into account all that Anders said. If there were those in the Guild who needed punishing, she would see to them. Grace would see how the Guild worked before deciding if she should go against them as a whole, though. Until that time, she would go after those who attacked and tried to kill the weaker folk. It would be safer than taking on the thieves all together.

  “Do you always give this information so freely?”

  “You’ll hear about the Fishermen’s Collective often enough, and I’d hate for you to be provided with false information.” She cut her eyes to Jack. “We’re not really a secret, after all. And you’ll be working here, so you need to know who your bedfellows are.”

  ~*~*~

  Ridley readily agreed to show Grace around the city when she asked for a guide. The young Princess of Thieves was ready to do whatever she could to make her new friend more comfortable in her new home. Grace was thankful she had someone to talk to aside from Donald.

  Ridley took her by the dock and showed her all the ships that were coming into port. Grace knew many of the flags the ships flew under. There was the crowned sun of Eurur, the golden star of Archon, and the two rearing silver horses from Sera. A myriad of other countries were in the port; countries Grace was not even aware of. Ridley had her by the arm and guided her along, but Grace’s eyes stayed on the port. She was in utter awe of how many came to Cesernan to trade. A sudden longing to sail out to sea overcame Grace. She sighed heavily as Ridley turned a corner and the view of the port was lost.

  Grace’s eyes widened as they entered the next area of Glenbard.

  “This is the temple district,” Ridley explained.

  Grace did not need to be told where they stood. The first temple was the biggest of all three on the street, and Grace was familiar with it. The insignia of the sun on the huge iron doors gave it all away. This was the temple to Ciro. The roof was domed and made mostly from glass so the light could enter and shine on the altar. Many high pillars ran around the temple, all of them lined in gold. Several smaller houses were next to the temple, each one with a domed roof; these were the houses of the priests of Ciro.

  Across the street was an equally large temple with the sigil of a crescent moon on its iron doors. The temple to Kamaria. The roof here was high arched, but huge windows opened in the east and in the west. It was for when the moon rose and set, and it was built that way to allow the moon’s light to shine on the altar. It even sported a bell tower. This temple had the same type of pillars as Ciro’s did, only they were lined with silver; Kamaria’s color. Smaller houses were next to it, which housed the priestesses of Kamaria. Leading away from Ciro and Kamaria’s temples was a road to three, moderately-sized stone buildings.

  “That serves as a dormitory for priest and priestess trainees. They get locked in there for a full year without contact with the rest of the city! Can you imagine?”

  Grace confessed, “My uncle was afraid I would be unmarried forever and he wanted to send me here to serve the Divine Twins. I came to Glenbard to find a husband and avoid those enclosed grounds.”

  The third and final temple was entirely new to Grace. Every province had a temple to Ciro and Kamaria, but this third one was different. It was much smaller and plainer, and had the image of a winged star on the wooden door
s. It sported a high vaulted ceiling and a few stained glass windows.

  “Who is this temple for? I am not familiar with the sign on the door.”

  “Diggery, the goddess of protection and guardian of lost souls.”

  Diggery was not an unknown deity to those in Arganis, but she wasn't held in the same esteem as the Divine Twins. People in the north prayed to her to help guide them through hard times, but Grace had never seen or heard of a temple being erected in her honor.

  “This temple is quite new to me. In Arganis, small figurines may be found of Diggery in wolf form, but no temples. Why has it been built here?”

  “Glenbard is a refuge for the damned and outcast. Many here consider Diggery their patron, so why not build a temple to honor her?”

  Grace looked at the winged star and knew where she would be coming after dinner this evening.

  “Come on – there’s still more to see.” Ridley took Grace by the arm again and led her away from the temples.

  ~*~*~

  “Stay here and I’ll get us some dinner,” Ridley said, and had Grace sit where they did earlier that day. The Angel Tavern was getting pretty full and Ridley wanted to make sure they had a place to sit and eat their dinner.

  All around the tavern, people were looking at her; whispering and snickering. Most were big, burly men who seemed to think there was something amusing about her, but Grace was unable to put her finger on the exact reason. She turned her head from side to side and tried to count just how many people were eyeing her.

  A man’s voice said from behind her, “The men have a bet going with Jim Little. You see, you were only hired as a joke to help Mayhew muck out stables.” Grace turned to face Jack Anders and noted that he hadn’t moved from his secluded corner.

  “Do you ever move from that spot, sir?”

  “Of course, but only when the tavern is ablaze.” He looked at all those looking upon Grace. “Now there,” he continued, seeing Grace scowl, “don’t let the bet hurt your precious feelings. This sort of thing happens whenever someone new is brought in to deal with Mayhew. The only difference this time is that you are a female. Most women around here are too smart to work for him.”