Micky Carre
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Dragon Riders of Etrea—Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2024-07-06 12:14:04 +0000 UTCTogether, they walked down the broad streets as they crossed the city. Duke Ardun lived in a part of Selfoss that Garlen didn’t usually find himself in unless he was robbing someone. No, where Garlen usually stayed was much closer to the docks.
Down there, women didn’t walk alone at night, and men kept a close eye on their coin purses. Flashy clothing might result in a quick knife in the dark, but a large sword and a hard reputation would keep all but the worst of the dregs away. It was where Garlen had lived for the past ten years, and the location of the orphanage both he and Rasud had grown up in. While halfbreeds weren’t particularly common anywhere, they didn’t usually draw any attention down in southern Selfoss.
“I need to grab some clothes first, and I’d appreciate some healing,” Garlen said, pulling Rasud down a small side street. “Plus, I hate walking on that main road. I swear there’s more horse shit than paving stones.”
“One would think the king would employ more people to keep it clean,” Rasud said. “Farmers would probably pay for all that manure. But hey, what do I know?”
They wound their way down several side streets and alleys. On two occasions men eyed them hungrily while fingering cudgels and short swords, but one look at Garlen’s height and hard eyes was enough to keep them away. No one was that eager to die.
Garlen’s house was a small stone structure wedged between two equally small brick houses. It stood two stories tall, though neither story was particularly large. Rasud produced a key from one of his robe pockets—Garlen had lost his when he had been arrested—and unlocked the door.
Inside, things were exactly as he had left them. Sparse, but functional and clean. The few bits of furniture he had were made of wood and steel, with little in the way of flare or decoration.
Garlen walked right to a washbasin and splashed some of the lukewarm water onto his face. After two days in the dungeon, it felt almost as good as a full bath. He gave himself a brief scrub, then dried himself off with a nearby towel. After that he grabbed a fresh tunic, breeches, and stockings.
“Alright, can you work your magic on my face?” Garlen asked.
Rasud scoffed. “Your face? Even my magic isn’t that powerful. No, I’m afraid you’ll always look like the business end of a donkey, my friend.” But even as he joked, he walked to a corner of Garlen’s house, where he kept a spare staff.
Rasud tapped the bottom of the staff on the wooden floor a few times, starting up a rhythm. He chanted on top of that, his words almost seeming to form into a song. His words, though not in any language Garlen understood, beckoned to his ancestors and called for their power.
It was a very rare form of magic that Rasud wielded, one that came from his orc father. While not as convenient as other forms wielded by wizards and sorcerers—two of the new queens in Akranes could use magic, rumor said—it was still a powerful tool.
Figures appeared in the air, seemingly made of smoke. Faces and hands, moving at Rasud’s orders. They reached out and touched Garlen’s face and his bruises began to fade. Not entirely, but it looked like he had rested for a few days. There was hardly a bruise left when he was done.
“Thank you,” Rasud said to the spirits, bowing low. After that, he turned to Garlen. “It’ll take another ten or fifteen minutes for your face and body to finish healing, but it is done.”
“Thanks,” Garlen said. He had been healed plenty of times by his friend’s shamanistic magic, and was always amazed at how even a deadly wound could be healed in less than an hour. “I feel a lot better. Let’s head out.”
There were many inns and pubs and common rooms in southern Selfoss, as the place was always filled with weary travelers that were eager for a bath and pint of ale after spending a month on a ship. Fortunately, Garlen knew of one where the serving women were pretty and the beer nice and dark.
“Watch your purse,” Rasud said, stepping in front of Garlen.
The narrow road in front of them was crowded, with dirty-faced travelers and refugees all looking aimlessly about as they wandered. Rasud held his robe closed with a hand and pushed his way through. Garlen put a hand over his coin purse and followed in the smaller man’s wake.
On one occasion a hand reached out and touched Garlen’s purse. He quickly grabbed it and twisted, breaking two fingers with ease. There was a loud yelp and a man fell in the crowd, clutching at his hand. A small knife fell from his other hand and clattered on the stones. Cutpurse.
It only took them a ten-minute walk to get to The Wandering Fish, and by that time Garlen’s bruises and scrapes had finally healed. Even still, the first thing he did when they got there was order a hot bath. The owner of the tavern, a portly man named Werner, directed Garlen towards a room in the back while Rasud grabbed them a table.
The room was made from stone and the floor sloped towards a grate in the center to allow for drainage. Four large copper tubs surrounded it, and a cauldron hung over a small fire, keeping water hot and ready. Garlen took a bucket and used it to fill his tub. The water was a bit too hot, so while it cooled he took a washrag and a fresh block of soap and scrubbed himself, then used a ladle to rinse himself off. Once that was done, he plopped in the tub and relaxed for a few minutes.
The heat pulled tension from his limbs, but also served to remind him how hungry he was. He had been looking forward to soaking for a bit, but after a few minutes he grumbled and pushed himself up. He had too many things to do to just sit in a tub all evening, no matter how good it felt.
Once out of the tub, he used the water to wash his dirty clothes, then hung them on a rack on the far wall, where heat from the nearby fire would dry them. He’d grab them later. That done, he dried himself off and pulled on the fresh clothes he had fetched from his house, then made his way back into the common room.
Rasun sat at a table with two large mugs of ale in front of him and a bowl of stew. He smiled when he saw Garlen approach and gestured with his spoon.
“I’ve got a second bowl of stew coming for you. It should serve to whet your appetite, since I know you’ll probably eat through all of Werner’s food stores tonight.”
Garlen sat down and took a long pull from the mug of ale. It wasn’t the best beer, but at that moment it tasted like pure happiness. “I want an entire leg of lamb,” he said. “Although I think I could eat half a cow right now.”
“That might cost a bit,” Rasun said, shoveling a spoonful of stew into his mouth. “You should probably limit your spending until Ardun pays us.”
“What is this?” Garlen asked, stirring the stew. It certainly smelled good, so he took a cautious bite. Nothing special, but as hungry as he was, it hit the spot. He grabbed a passing serving girl and requested a second bowl.
“It’s a vegetable and bean stew,” Rasun said with a grin. “I’m telling you, it’s better for digestion. You gotta stop with that meat all the time.”
Garlen grunted. “How did he make vegetables taste this good?” He took another bite.
“Oh, I told one of the serving girls to spit in yours. That cute one over there. That might be affecting the flavor,” Rasud said with a toothy grin.
Garlen followed Rasud’s gaze across the common room to where a short woman with a blue apron was setting several mugs of ale on the table. Her shirt was unlaced enough to show the tops of her considerable breasts, and she had the face of an angel. The looseness of her skirt wasn’t enough to hide her round hips, or the way her bottom moved with each step.
“I think I’d pay extra for her to spit in my stew,” Rasud said with a chuckle.
“She’s certainly beautiful,” Garlen said. “I could enjoy her for a night, maybe two or three, but she’s too soft for me. I like strong women. I want a woman that can fight by my side.”
Rasud just stared at him for a moment. “You might be the strangest man in existence,” he said. “Although I might be mistaking your strangeness for stupidity. That woman is about as beautiful as they come, and you know it.”
“You’re right,” Garlen said, turning to look at her again. She walked across the common room and nearly every male eye followed her. For that matter, half the women stared as well. “But I still say she’s too soft.”
“Nothing like a soft body beneath warm sheets,” Rasud said, taking a swig of his ale. “Ugh, I need to get laid. I should see if Mara is working tonight. She has a friend, you know. A tall woman with sun-darkened skin and the most curvaceous—”
“I don’t have time for that tonight,” Garlen said, turning back to his stew. “And to be honest, you probably don’t either. We need to plan for our trip, and how we’re going to steal…. Well, I probably shouldn’t say it out loud. But we have to figure out how to do it without losing our heads.”
Rasud gestured with his spoon again. “If it makes you feel any better, if we aren’t successful in finding the egg we’ll lose our heads anyways.”
“I heard someone is extra hungry tonight,” said a woman’s voice.
The beautiful serving girl set a second steaming bowl of stew next to Garlen and stood there for a moment, one hand on her hip, openly looking him up and down.
“Well, aren’t you a big one? It’s no wonder you need to eat so much.” She punctuated that sentence with a warm, inviting smile.
“Thank you,” Garlen said, sliding the bowl of stew closer. He made it a point to smile at her face, not at her massive breasts, but it wasn’t easy.
“Not only big, but strong!” Rasud exclaimed.
“Is that so?” the serving girl said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.
“Oh boy,” Garlen said, running his fingers through his hair. He knew where this was going. “Rasud, we don’t have to—”
“Yes, he’s easily the strongest man in the common room right now!” Rasud said. “And he’ll prove it!”
“I do like strong men,” she said. “My name’s Lorelie.”
“Garlen,” Garlen replied. He wanted to just get up and leave the room, but that wasn’t an option.
Lorelie raised her voice so that all could hear her. “This man says he’s the strongest in the room! Any takers?”
“Ah, shit,” Garlen muttered as a heavily-built man pushed himself to his feet. He looked to be a dock worker, so while he had a round stomach, he had shoulders enough for two men. His hair was thinning up top, and his beard was full and hung to his chest.
“You’ve got him, Bennett!” one of the man’s friends shouted.
“My oh my, I didn’t think they made men as big as you,” Lorelie said as Bennett approached the table.
Rasud got up from his chair and began transferring their drinks and bowls of food to the nearest table. Bennett sat down in his chair and faced Garlen.
“So, how we gonna do this?” he boomed.
“You two are going to arm wrestle,” Lorelie said. “And the winner gets to kiss me.” The look she suddenly gave Garlen suggested she didn’t want to kiss the bearded Bennett.
“This should be over quickly,” Bennett said, setting his elbow on the table.
Garlen reached out and the two clasped hands. Garlen gripped the edge of the table with his left hand for support and planted both feet. Bennett did the same.
“Might as well give up now, boy,” Bennett said. “I’ve been beating men your size since you were sucking on your mother’s teat.”
Lorelie placed both her hands on theirs and began the countdown. Several other men had left their tables and now stood in a ring around theirs. Some made bets.
“Three, two….” She looked around and smiled. “One!”
She released her grip on their hands and they both started pulling. Veins stood out on both men’s necks, but their hands barely moved an inch. Bennett’s hands were larger, so he might have had a slight advantage.
Garlen grit his teeth and pulled with all his might, but it was like pulling against a stone wall. Bennett’s face began to turn red and he slowly pulled Garlen’s hand back. Muscles began to burn, and the two men grunted and growled enough that one would be forgiven for thinking there were dogs in the room.
Something suddenly struck Garlen in the shin, hard, and his hand moved back an inch. It was Bennett, kicking him beneath the table. The man grinned through his beard.
“There is no way I’m letting you win,” Bennett said, kicking him again.
Garlen struggled to keep his temper in check, but he could feel cold rage seeping through the cracks. Bennett kicked him again, grinning like a madman. Garlen was usually good at keeping himself on a tight leash, but he was tired, hungry, and preparing for a trip that might see him dead. In short, his temper was held on by a thread.
“No need to cheat, now,” Rasud said. He had clearly seen Bennett’s kicks.
“Shut your mouth, half-breed,” Bennett said without taking his eyes from Garlen. “I’m just testing this boy. Seeing what he’s made of.”
“Kick me again and I’ll break your fucking hand,” Garlen growled. His temper teetered on the edge, ready to fall into an ocean of barely-checked rage. It was something he always worked to avoid, as he often lost control when he reached that breaking point.
Rasud shot a worried glance at Garlen. He knew that dark stare, and what it promised.
Bennett’s grin deepened and he kicked again, this time catching Garlen right below the knee.
Garlen struggled to keep himself under control, but anger flooded into him. His strength surged and he pulled Bennett’s hand down until it touched the table. The big man shouted in protest, trying to kick at Garlen again. Garlen slammed his hand down on the table, once, twice, three times, the final blow hard enough that the wooden table cracked.
Bennett fell back and topped from his chair, clutching at his broken hand. Garlen pushed himself up from his chair and towered over him.
“You can’t even arm wrestle like an honest man!” he roared. “Kicking me under the table like some fucking coward! Have you no sense of honor at all?”
Garlen’s hands shook with unchecked rage and he bent down to wrap his fingers around Bennett’s throat. The big man recognized the look in Garlen’s eyes and shied back, pushing himself across the floor, trying to escape.
A hand suddenly reached out and grabbed onto Garlen’s wrist. He snarled and turned to see who it was, ready to handle them as well.
It was Rasud. He lifted Garlen’s hand over his head—he was a short man, so not that high—and called out to the audience.
“Garlen is the winner! Even though the bearded sack of dung tried cheating, he still couldn’t beat Garlen!”
Garlen felt his anger subside as his friend talked. Rasud was always able to calm him; it was one of the small man’s many talents. He blinked away the red in his vision and took a deep breath, then forced a smile to the crowd and raised his other arm overhead. Several people backed away from him after seeing his anger, but the rest of the crowd cheered loudly.
He looked over at Lorelie, still standing nearby. She watched him warily, but she knew she had made a promise in front of the entire crowd. She tensed up as Garlen stepped near.
“I would never hurt a woman,” he said quietly, although he could see she was terrified. “Here,” he whispered, turning his face to offer her his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered in return, and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.
“Oh come on, that’s not a real kiss!” one man from the crowd shouted.
“Kiss him!” someone else called out.
Lorelie blushed to her hairline. Garlen merely stood there.
“Well, I did promise,” she said, and stretched up onto her toes.
Garlen bent down and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her large breasts press against his chest as he held her close. Their lips met and a moment later parted. Her tongue pushed against his and he pushed back, their kiss lasting quite some time.
When they were done Garlen realized he was holding her half a foot off the ground. She realized it as well and let out a faint yelp. With a chuckle, Garlen gently set her back on the floor.
Lorelie fanned herself with her hand. “Well,” she began, her mouth opening and closing several times as she searched for the right words. Her eyes went to the table, where the wood had been clearly split. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met a man as strong as you. You wouldn’t happen to be staying here tonight, would you?”
Garlen opened his mouth to tell her no but Rasud beat him to it.
“He is!” Rasud said. “He just got a room before we sat down, actually.” After saying that, he hurried away to find the innkeeper while digging in his coinpurse.
“How would you feel about me visiting you tonight, once I’m done with work?” she asked, twirling some of her dark hair around a finger. The crowd had dissipated, leaving their conversation somewhat private. She looked up at him, her large, dark eyes filled with sudden desire. Her skin was still flushed.
Garlen reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. He wasn’t exactly sure how to answer since Rasud had interjected only a moment before.
“I would like that very much,” Garlen said. “I only grew angry because he kept kicking me beneath the table. I don’t believe in cheating. It’s dishonorable. Don’t worry, I would never be rough with you.”
She looked up at him again and her full lips slowly curved into a smile. “Maybe I want you to get a little rough.”
While Garlen still preferred stronger women, that set his heart to pounding. Fortunately, Rasud came back at that precise moment and saved the day.
“Garlen! You dropped your key a few moments ago when you were giving that cheat the business.” He slipped an iron key into Garlen’s hand. “First room on the left at the top of the stairs, remember? You requested the room with the softest bed, as usual. Ah, he’s a good one, miss,” Rasud said, turning to Lorelie. “Everything you could want in a man. Strong, brave, and quite successful as well!”
Lorelie turned back to Garlen. “Is that so?” Her smile deepened as she pulled away. “Well, make sure you eat plenty tonight. You’ll need your strength later.” The smoldering look in her eyes left no question as to what she referred to. With a wink, she turned and went back into the kitchens to fetch more food.
Garlen took a deep breath, which turned into a laugh. He pulled his chair back and sat down, then let out a big sigh. Things had almost turned dark a moment ago, but his friend Rasud had saved the day.
“Ah, Rasud. Where would I be without you, friend?”
Rasud grabbed their food from the nearest table and put it back on theirs. “You wouldn’t be getting laid as much, that’s for certain. Oh and by the way, you owe me three silver.”
