Part IV - The Journey Begins

The two friends walked together down an uncrowded street. For some reason, the streets near the Temple of the Dead are rarely crowded. The pair did not speak during the walk to the temple, and Jason barely spoke to the priest who took the body. They walked off, the picture of dignified mourning...until they were out of sight.

"Jason, I agree that we should get out of town. Being here is only going to lead to difficult questions. Our presence is likely to encourage someone to do something rash." Kendra said.

"Yes, I hate when people do rash things. Especially when they do them to me." Jason said wryly. "Besides, we've been handed a mystery. What is this ring, where did it come from, and how did Prince What-his-name get his hands on it?"

"Right, getting out of town ahead of the investigators is only part of our reason for running like scalded dogs."

"Ahem, I don' t think I would put it that way. Not that it isn't true, just that I wouldn't say it." Jason said.

They stopped briefly and bought a pair of sausages from a street vendor. They carefully avoided any speculation on the kind of meat in the sausage.

The two old campaigners knew how to pack quickly and lightly. Collecting horses and gear took less than an hour. Jason offered the thought that people heading out on a journey usually left much earlier in the day. Kendra reminded him of the fact that the investigators were likely to be very happy with two of them as guests of honor at the (short) trial. With good humor the two set off. They couldn't help but be memorable to the gate guards. There is little traffic by this time of day. So they simply rode out of the Northern Gate without explanation.

Of course, after they got out of sight of the city they veered and headed overland to catch the trade rode East. Hopefully, that would throw any investigators off the track.

Kendra asked "If they bring dogs to track us, they won't be fooled a minute."

"Not to worry, I dropped little black pepper about a mile or so back. When the dogs get that up their noses, they won't be able to smell anything else.", Jason said.

After a few hours they crossed the eastern trade road and followed it east. As the traveled they discussed the little they knew of the mystery so far. After two days of travel, the only thing their discussion had produced was the idea that the Collage of Wizards might have some information on the ring they were holding, and that Jason was 'getting too old for this kind of trip.'

Near the end of the third day of travel, they found themselves nearing the Meerkir River. There was plenty of barge traffic moving goods up, down and across the river. The Meerkir is too wide to bridge here, being nearly a mile across, so a ferry had been put in place. The collection of inns and warehouses had grown up around each end of the ferry's path.

"Well, Kendra, would you rather spend another night in the saddle? Or shall we see if any of these inns brew decent ale?" Jason said.

"Let's see if we can make it across the river tonight, and sleep on the other side. Then even if we are being followed, we'll have the river to slow 'em down" Kendra said.

"Sounds good to me."

The river crossing was routine. It was also a bit monotonous. Once or twice Jason stirred himself either to ask Kendra to pray for a little speed or to drop some herb on the rope to hurry things along himself. But he was too canny a campaigner to leave behind such evidence. He waited, with as much patience as he could muster.

Kendra spoke, "You know, the worst problem with a sitting a long time after a long day's ride? You stiffen up. I'll have to have a bed tonight." Jason nodded his agreement when the ferryman suggested an Inn named "The Busted Oar." They were known for a fine, big tub you can soak in.

With those words, the evening's plans were made: dinner and a bath at "The Busted Oar"

Part III - An Inconvenient Corpse

After quickly extinguishing the magical fire, Jason and Kendra looked at each other, then around the room. Everyone seemed to be very studiously not looking in their direction. Jason swept the ashes to the floor and the ring into his pouch.

"We've got to get your guest out of here, along with us." Jason muttered in low tones. "I'd bet my next meal someone will show up looking for him, and soon."

"I wouldn't take that bet." Kendra agreed. "But he's a pretty big fellow and there's not much we can do to hide the fact that he's dead, or unconscious."

"I know your Patron is a Goddess of Light and Life, but just how unhappy would she be with a brief Zombie Spell?" Jason asked.

Kendra winced, "I'd rather not ask."

"Let's go upstairs. We'd better get a good look at the problem." Jason said, then continued in a louder voice "Sure, why not? I'll flip him for Head or Tail!"
Kendra's dark eyes flashed with both amusement and anger. He'd scored in their long-running game. But she went upstairs without another word.

When they got to her room, he began laying a tracing of finely ground herbs across the threshold and the window. He muttered something under his breath that did not sound like human speech and then touched a candle flame to each line of herbs. They began to smolder and shortly a curtain of smoke stood where each line of herbs had been.

"OK, we won't be disturbed for a while. That smoke causes people and animals to find somewhere else to be. " Jason said.

"I'd almost rather drop him off downstairs and wait for someone to put him in the alley." Kendra said.

"I think it's time to hire a couple of strong backs and get him out of the city." Jason said.

"Of course we have to get him out of the city. The question is where do we put him? If we drop the body anywhere nearby the assumption will be that we killed him and left the corpse as an insult." Kendra said.

Jason began to pace. The room wasn't really big enough for pacing, but he paced anyway. "You know, maybe we don't need to get him out of town. Maybe what we need to do is get him out of the tavern and into the Temple of the Dead, like any other unclaimed body." he said.

Kendra paused in thought. "If he is being tracked the Temple of Death is a good place for them to find a body...As long as you and I aren't found, too. The questions asked would be awkward, to say the least."

"Yes, I always find being tortured into a confession awkward." Jason agreed wryly.

Kendra continued, "My patron isn't very fond of the Temple of the Dead, so you'll have to take him in. Now, the real problem is how to get a big, dead man out of here in broad daylight without anyone noticing."

Jason asked, "Since the Zombie Spell is off limits, could you ask Her to work a small miracle on our behalf? Would she drop a short don't-notice-me on him?"

Kendra smiled. "That, I think I can manage." She gracefully knelt on the floor in the middle of the room and began to pray softly. As she prayed, Jason brought a pair of unlit candles and placed them just in front of her. After a few moments of prayer, the candles began to glow softly. They looked as if they were lit by an unseen flame.

Kendra looked up at Jason and smiled with the same blissful look she normally got when she had been in communion with her Goddess. "It is done." she said. Then with more-than-human strength she lifted the corpse from the bed and headed down the stairs. Jason quickly cleared the mess they had made in the room and hurried after her.

Part II - A New Player

As the two old friends tried, without success, to douse the magical flame, a man who'd been steadily downing the strongest ale the inn sold unceremoniously fell over. That wasn't an unusual occurrence, but he hit a nearby table on the way down, knocking it over. He was sent out the door without comment by two of the larger and more sober customers. If those customers had watched more carefully as he staggered down the street, they might have noticed that he miraculously avoided the worst filth. As he wandered off into the afternoon, his walk became much straighter. Within a few blocks, he was upright and apparently sober.

As he passed through a particularly shadowy alley, he removed and reversed his cloak, changing it from a disreputable wool to a stylish silk. He also spat a small stone into his hand, carefully wrapped it in a cloth and stowed it in his belt pouch. By the time he came to the side door of a rather more expensive establishment with the unlikely name of 'The Unicorn's Rump', he was looking every bit a gentleman out for a bit of fun.

The guard at the front door admitted him without a word. He was obviously well-known here. He waved away a servant that offered to take his cloak and walked quickly to a private room in the back of the building. He passed no other patrons as he waked down the dimly lit hall. Unlike the tavern he had recently left, this dim light seemed to speak of old money and power.

When he got to the room he sought, he knocked twice, paused, and knocked again. Then he opened the door and walked in.

A tall, dark haired man was finishing his afternoon tea. He poured a second cup. "Well, did they get it?' he asked.

"Yes, sir. Just before I left I saw the fat herbalist do some kind of test on the ring. It caused a flame to jump nearly to the ceiling!"

"Excellent, my friend, excellent. Please sit down, I'm sure you've had a hard day and would like something a little better than the ale that dive provides. Did you eat anything while you were there?" the older man asked.

The younger man sat down, wearily. Playing the drunk could be tiring and he was both hungry and thirsty. "No, Lord Haversham, I saw the slop they called stew and decided that it would be safer to starve!"

Lord Haversham poured some honey into the cup of tea he had poured for his companion and stirred it. "Here, have some tea while I get our host to provide something more substantial than these bites." He gestured toward a plate with small cookies and coverage, half eaten. The younger man nodded and accepted the tea. Lord Haversan left the room and waited in the hall for a few seconds. A mute young boy accepted his order and ran off in the direction of the kitchen.

Lord Haversan watched patiently while his agent finished the platter of rare roast beef with onions and drank a small beer. "At last the game has begun," Lord Haversham said. His smile, while genuine, was a fearsome thing to behold. It reminded his agent more of a tiger bearing his fangs than a man in good humor.

Part I - Two Old Friends

It was well past the second watch, the time when reasonable men go to bed. but reasonable men don’t go drinking anywhere near places like “The Drunken Unicorn” or “The Broken Sword”. A fat merchant staggered deliberately as he wandered from the Unicorn to the Sword. As he passed a dark alley, he heard a husky voice call quietly “Sir, please help me..”
“I never was one to pass a maiden in distress”, he muttered. He shifted his grip on the staff he carried and laboriously changed course into the alley. Soon after he disappeared into the darkness a pair of swift thumps could be heard, along with the sound of bodies hitting the ground. Such sounds are far from uncommon, and universally ignored in this area.
Not much later, that same fat merchant wandered into the Drunken Unicorn. An astute observer would have noticed some new scuffs on his staff and a slightly larger bulge in his purse. He easily navigated the half-filled taproom to sit at an empty table in the back, near the stairs the second story. He carefully leaned his staff against the wall behind him.
A barmaid to old and tired to make a living taking men to the second floor took his order for a pint of the best ale. He had taken a single long drink when a woman descended the stairs and sat down beside him.
“Jason! I’d heard you were back in town. Still trolling for thieves?”
“It’s a hobby.”, he shrugged.
“It’s a hobby that’ll get you killed one of these days.” She said, but the twinkle in her eyes gave lie to her words.
He snorted, “not unless the Thieves Guild improves their training. I took those last two completely unawares. They assumed that because I was weaving back and forth as I left the Tavern that I was drunk and easy picking. Yet, here I am, carrying an Herbalist’s Staff and an Herbalist’s Girdle. When was the last time you saw a Master of Herbal Lore drunk?” She began to speak, but he cut her off, “Never mind. Besides that. It was an important occasion and I was all out of, well... just never mind.”
She grinned at the memory, but then spoke seriously. “Have you guessed why I invited you to visit?”
“Still testing me, Hmmm? Well, let’s see. I suspect you don’t really work upstairs, therefore you needed an excellent hiding place. But it had to be someplace you could meet with a man. A woman, that is, a Respectable Lady, wouldn't be caught dead here. That leaves roughly every man in the city. On the other hand, the rich and powerful have their own amusements. So you are meeting a Prince of the City to negotiate something-or-other and you want me to guard your back.”
“Not bad, a little vague, but it’ll do. I’ll not mention who I’m meeting, just in case. But he’s NOT a Prince of the City.”
“Well, I take it you’d like to take me to your room for further discussions?”
She spoke in a loud voice, then, so most of the room heard her. “Look Friend, this is not a fish market. The price is firm. Either you want to go upstairs or you don’t. Which is it?” Her back was to the room so only he could see the gleam in her eye at his discomfort.
His volume matched hers, but he added the slight slur of a man with too much ale. “No need to shout, strumpet. I only asked if that was for the night or for an hour. I’m coming upstairs. I’m coming.” He dug about in his purse and pulled out a small gold coin. She took the coin, made it disappear into her generous bosom and took his arm. They turned and went upstairs, pausing only for him to retrieve his staff.
When they reached her room, she started to return the coin, but he said “keep it, it wasn’t mine earlier tonight anyway.” She smiled and left the coin where it was.
He sat cross legged on the floor, with surprising grace for so heavy a man. he took a small pan from one of the many pockets of his girdle. “Hand me that candle, would you please?” She passed him the candle and he began warming the pan over it’s flame. When the pan was hot, he started taking small pinches of different herbs from his girdle and mixed them in the pan. The aromatic smoke soon filled the room. He leaned over and spat into the pan causing a bubble of clear air to form around him. She mimicked his gesture and the bubble expanded to include her.
“This little trick doesn’t last long, but it’s easy to do. And hard to counter without being obvious about it. - Now, Kendra, why am I here and what do you need?”
“I really need some backup on this one, Jason. The important person I’m meeting is the son of the Lord of Tir-Arak. He has come to negotiate an alliance with us. His message said that there are spies everywhere and that they would relish the chance to kill him and blame us at the same time.”
“I can think of half a dozen people that would sell their own grandmothers to make that happen.” He said. “Do you have anyone in mind?”
“No,” She answered, “Not yet. But the Prince is due in town, in disguise, tomorrow. He will come to this inn and ask for Ira of the Golden Lamp. I’m hoping you will make sure we both live through it.”
“I’ll do what I can, you know that. But I’m not a wizard. I’m just an Apothecary with wandering feet. I can hardly cast some great spell and envelope you two in magical protection.”
“I know, I know. But there are few wizards I trust, and fewer that could pull something like that off and not alert every mage from here to the sea. Besides, the Prince insisted that the meeting be as low-key as possible. I don’t think he trusts the Princes of This City, either.”
“Smart man, your prince. Look, the smoke is starting to thin. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“I hope not, because there isn’t much more I know myself. With a little luck we’ll know more tomorrow”
She grinned and stuck out one hip in a broad parody of seduction “So, do you want to share my bed?”
He answered ruefully, “um, did I tell you about the unfortunate side effect of that particular herb? Let’s just say that tonight we will both be able to sleep easily.”
She laughed, “You mean you can’t...”
He blushed (a rare sight in itself) and said “not tonight, and probably not tomorrow morning. “
“Well then, my mighty warrior, let’s get to sleep. - tomorrow will be a long day.”

To keep up the fiction of a fat merchant out on the town, the next morning they slept in, went through their own individual morning rituals then ordered breakfast sent up.
As he spread potted meat on a slab of bread, he said “I’ve put what wards I can on the doors and windows. I can’t promise they’ll keep out an army, but no one will sneak up on you.”
“Good, after you eat, you’d better take over the table at the bottom of the stairs. You can pretend to nurse a hangover, or work on a new one, until my guest shows up.”
“Sounds good.”, he reached into his girdle for a tiny pinch of something. he rubbed it into his eyes and they immediately burst into tears. When he looked up at her his eyes were red and bloodshot, as if he’d been drinking heavily.
The day wore on, he amused himself making bets with himself as to which drunk would fall over first. His right hand was three coppers ahead when a tall, clean-shaven man in a dark hood said, quietly, “I’m looking for Ira of the Golden Lamp”.
Jason didn’t blink, just said “top of the stairs, second door on the right. But I hope your purse is heavy going up. It’ll be lighter going down!” The other man didn’t speak a word. He ascended the stairs and disappeared into Kendra’s room.
Jason waited an hour, then two. He had ordered and eaten a bowl of the greasy slop the innkeeper called stew and already eaten half his store of peppermint in an effort to settle his stomach. He was an old campaigner, and used to waiting, but it seemed too quiet. He hoped Kendra sent a message down soon.
She came herself. She dropped into the chair next to him and spoke, “your wards functioned perfectly. Unfortunately, he was poisoned before he got here. he’s dead upstairs in my bed.”
“Damn, I should have looked closer as he went by.”
“That’s not important now. We’ve got to get rid of the body - outside the city.”
“Right, I can help with the smell, but it will take a couple of strong men to carry him.”
“Don’t worry. Muscle that can keep it’s mouth shut is pretty common around here. That’s not what concerns me. It’s this ring.” She opened her hand on the table and showed him a man’s ring with a large green stone. It was carved into an odd pattern, but otherwise a simple silver ring with an emerald. “Before he died he said ‘don’t let them get it’, then he took off the ring and stuck it in my hand. Do you recognize it?”
“No, not workmanship or style. I doubt he was concerned about the value of the ring. It’s either a symbol of something, or magic.”
“Can you tell which?”
“Maybe”, he extracted a leaf from his girdle. “Put the ring on the table.” if the ring is even slightly magical, we’ll see the leaf brown a little. If it’s a very powerful item, we may see a little charring where the ring touches it, or some smoke.” He placed the leaf over the ring. it quickly began to smoke and curl as though he had placed it on a burning coal. It then burst into flames.

A Different Ring

This is a different kind of blog. Instead of my own random ramblings or the diary of a work-at-home dad, you're going to get fiction. Fantasy, to be exact. Swords, and Sorcery and maybe a dragon or an elf. You can never tell.

This story started a long time ago, on a different service, but that story was never finished. I had a co-writer then, but she has abandoned her part of it (Diane, if you want to play, just let me know! You're always welcome)

Frankly, I'm starting this simply because I'm curious to see how it ends.

So, a couple of ground rules: I'll try to post chunks of story once a week or so. I'll try NOT to have to go to earlier sections and edit them, but I will if I think the story needs it. I'm gratefull for any responses, suggestions, flames, etc. On the other hand, it's my story and I'll make the decisions.

So, on to the first section.