Traitor for Hire: Mage Code Page 10

  "Well, next time, pick someone else," said Rand, chuckling at his own joke. "Come on, I'll show you the carriage. Still got things to load, and the going's been terribly slow since my last hired hand...well...blew his hands off."

  Iven shot Galeron a dirty look as they followed him and mumbled under his breath, "I hate you." To Rand, he said, "Why did he do that?"

  "Oh, didn't I mention I'm a fire speaker?" said Rand, not skipping a step.

  "No, can't say you did," said Iven.

  "Well, I am, and business is booming in Azura." He did something of a skip-jump as he said this. "I'm moving my entire operation there. I've bought a shop and foundry next to the wharf, and I'll soon be outfitting the entire navy with the best night dust blends."

  They passed four other carriages, each guarded by a sell-sword. Somehow, every one looked like the caravan master had dragged them from under an ale barrel in the middle of the night. One stared with a vacant expression at Galeron as he passed. I could probably replace his pike with a squawking chicken and he wouldn't notice.

  Rand stopped next to a large wooden carriage, fifth of the six-deep convoy. "Here we are. I notice both of you are very well armed. Do you fight much?"

  "It's our day job," Iven said.

  Rand nodded and lowered his voice. "Our caravan master's a coin thrift. Each carriage only has one guard, and I'm not sure how good these men are. At least you seem to have your wits. Hopefully, you won't need those weapons on this trip."

  "Better to carry my blade and never use it than sell it and wish for it again," said Galeron, cutting across Iven's answer.

  "A wise saying," said Rand, unlocking the carriage door.

  "Not mine," Galeron said. "I borrowed it."

  "Ah well, borrowed wisdom is still wisdom." Rand threw open the doors and turned to Iven. "Come on, then. Let's get that night dust." He looked around and then walked the perimeter, back bent and head cocked to one side. "Strange. Duckling said she'd have it here by now."

  Galeron blinked. Duckling?

  "Who's your 'duckling'?" asked Iven.

  "My daughter, Lonni," Rand said. He frowned and rubbed his chin. "She'd better hurry. We're due to leave at first light, and we still have to load the barrels."

  "Should we go look for her?" asked Galeron.

  "No, no, Lonni is a most capable young woman," Rand said. "I've no doubt she'll be along shortly." He sighed and rubbed a hand on his salt and pepper mane. "In the meantime, what's your business in Azura? Hoping to see the world, perhaps?"

  Iven shook his head. "We've done enough traveling in our days."

  "Your days? The both of you put together wouldn't equal my age." Rand smiled. "Too young to be talking like that."

  "We traveled quite a bit in the wars," Galeron said.

  Rand closed his eyes. "You're both survivors, then. Who isn't these days? Ghastly business, and too many young men looking and speaking like old ones." He paused. "Of course, battle does that to a man. Ages him beyond his time, but enough about that. Azura?"

  "We're going to meet a friend at the Consortium," said Iven.

  "Meeting a friend," said Rand. "Most excellent. Let me say in advance that I'm grateful for your help. Not too many people would risk working with a fire speaker, what with the penchant for explosions and all."

  "Right." Iven glared at Galeron. "Not too many would. Lucky for you, we're unusual people."

  "Not to worry, Galeron, there's plenty for you to do that won't require both hands," Rand said. "How's your head for numbers?"

  Galeron blinked. It'd been a while, but he still had most of the skills from informer training. "Decent enough. I can count and do basic figuring."

  "What about unit conversion?" asked Rand. "For example, if pressed, could you convert imperial stones to Rayan blocks?

  Galeron paused. "I've never heard of an imperial stone."

  "It's a Han measurement, and I'll take that as a no," Rand said. "That's fine. I'm sure Lonni will be happy to teach you." The wheels of a cart clattered off to the side, and they turned to look. "Ah, there she is." He gestured to the woman standing next to the cart. "Friends, meet my daughter. Lonni, these are our new hired hands."

  Galeron squinted. Thinner than a sapling, Lonni Tomkin looked like she might get knocked off her feet by a good breeze. A long face with hawkish features, framed by bronze hair, studied him. She diverted her green eyes after a moment and turned to pay the cart hauler.

  Iven elbowed him in the ribs. "Should we offer her a potato? Looks like she could use it."

  "I heard that," Lonni said, not turning her head.

  Rand laughed. "The girl already eats more than I do. Blasted if I know where it all goes."

  "Papa, why did you hire sell-swords?" asked Lonni as the carter began loading the barrels into the carriage. "Especially one with a broken arm."

  "They're going to Azura, too, duckling, and they promised to work for free," Rand said. "Why Galeron insists he can do basic figuring. How could I say no?"

  Lonni's brow furrowed. "A literate sell-sword?"

  Iven smiled. "Not as rare as you might think. Consider, noble lady, that if my patron can count, but I can't, I'll soon find myself short of coin and flooded with work."

  Her brow deepened into a scowl. "Compliments will get you nowhere." The hauler shut the door and dragged his cart away. "Who are you two?"

  Iven flourished his hat and bowed deeply. "Iven Porter, at your service." He looked up, but her attention had already shifted to Galeron.

  "Galeron," he said.

  "Just Galeron?" asked Lonni.

  "Just me," he said.

  "Galeron's a man of few words," said Iven.

  "In comparison," Galeron said.

  Iven raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying I talk too much?"

  "Did I say that?"

  "You were thinking it."

  Lonni threw her head back. "Papa, free labor doesn't mean they're going to be worth the hassle."

  Rand grinned and shrugged. "I think our trip to Azura is going to be memorable."

  "Caravan leaves in the next few minutes," yelled one of the hired guards. "Get ready to travel."

  "Excellent," said Rand. "Iven, up top and on the rear. We're a mere one wagon from the end, and I don't want a sneak attack. You can never have too many eyes on the lookout."

  Lonni opened the carriage door and looked at Galeron. "Guess that means it's you, me, and a few dozen barrels of night dust. Cramped, but keep your distance anyway." She smiled, said, "I bite," and slipped inside.

  Iven chuckled as he clambered on top of the carriage. "Not fair. I think she likes you."

  Galeron scowled. "Trade you."

  "Not even for double our fee," said Iven.

  "That's still nothing."

  "And that's why you're in the carriage."

  "Get on with it," said Lonni.

  Galeron shuffled his way into the interior, fumbling with the door latch. He turned to slide toward the back, and his sword struck a nearby barrel. He twisted away, only to find the sheathed blade toppled a set of scales.

  "Blast you," Lonni swore as she caught them. "Sell-swords and their...swords. You're going to have to take that off in here."

  He raised an eyebrow. "How? One arm doesn't work." He gestured to his bandaged arm.

  She rolled her eyes. "Use the other one."

  It wasn't that simple. Didn't she know that? Strapping on a blade required two hands, not one. This was going to be a long trip. "I can't," he said through gritted teeth.

  "Why not?"

  He closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. Didn't this woman know anything? "A soldier puts his sword opposite his good hand." He wiggled his arm. "I'm right-handed, so the blade is on the left." Galeron set his left hand atop the leather laces and straps that bound his scabbard to the belt. "The angle on the knots is wrong. I can't undo it with my left hand."

  Lonni crossed her arms under her breasts. "Well, I'm not going to undo it for you. I'm no one's serving
girl."

  The technical term would have been his squire, but perhaps it was best not to mention that just now. "Then I hope you're really good at catching scales for the next few weeks."

  Lonni glanced about, mouth shifted positions, and she stamped her foot. "Fine, but don't expect this again." She knelt down and started working the knots. "These are tight. What did you do to it?"

  "Ignored it, mostly," said Galeron. "I don't take the sword off very often."

  "Well, it--ah!"

  The cart lurched forward, throwing Galeron onto his back and slamming his injured shoulder. His sword's pommel lodged itself under his ribcage. He registered the pain just in time to have an off-balance Lonni land on top of him, her nose nearly touching his. Despite the pulsing bolts of agony in his shoulder, he still noticed her warm frame pressed into his. Lonni might be skinny, but it was all supple muscle, rippling through the fabric of her dress, which was pulled tight in the close quarters. Her breath came shallow and quick, as did his, though he suspected that was more from the collarbone threatening to slip out of place.

  "Sorry about that." They turned their heads to see Iven, face upside down in the open window. "They just started moving and..." His voice trailed off, and a wide smile split his lips. "Well, well, well. Galeron Triste, you sneaky seducer. And you fuss at me for playing fast and loose." He laughed. "She is pretty though, I'll give you that."

  Galeron stared at him, mouth open. What did...oh. Lonni on top of him...right...of course that was where Iven went. "No--it--we."

  Lonni growled and scrambled up. "Save it." She glowered at Iven. "I was trying to get that blasted sword off him when the cart moved."

  "If you say so," Iven said. "If you want privacy, make sure the windows are closed next time."

  His face vanished from the window, leaving Lonni spluttering and turning a violent shade of red. Was it from anger or embarrassment? She yanked him to his feet and seemed to rip the knots apart to get the scabbard free. Once done, she slammed the weapon into his free hand.

  "Stay away from me," she said.

  Galeron wiped expression from his face. "That's going to be kind of hard."

  Lonni stared at the ceiling and pulled on her long locks. "Just go sit on the other side of the carriage and don't touch anything."

  He sat on the floor, propping himself against barrels of night dust and wiggling his back. There really wasn't a comfortable position, but this wasn't the king's personal coach, either. Galeron watched Lonni flip through a dusty tome at the other end. Every time she reached up to turn a page, her shortened dress sleeve pulled up beyond her elbow, revealing a slice of much paler skin than the tanner exterior.

  The phantom pressure of her body on his still lingered, tingling at the points of contact. Hadn't been that close to a woman since Melia all those months ago. He shook his head, banishing her round face from his mind. Given Lonni's initial thoughts on him, plus the compromising position Iven had seen them in, he might rank somewhere above decaying bodies and below city sewage in her head. Still, it had felt nice. Maybe something he wouldn't mind doing again--

  Stop it, Galeron. Get a hold of yourself and be reasonable. Women are complications, nothing more. They did complicate matters, but usually just in the realm of the heart. After all, it was almost two months from here to Azura. A lot could happen in that time to change someone's mind.

  He clenched his jaw. Silly thoughts. As an informer, imagination kept him one step ahead of his foes. As a mercenary, it just filled him with fantasies that wasted thinking time. He shifted and turned his thoughts to Atreus. Could Iven haven gotten lucky enough to land a fatal shot? Had he, Galeron, fired the arrow, he would accept no less than a glassy-eyed corpse in front of him, but Iven's luck worked a lot better for him.

  Regardless, the mission remained the same. If Atreus survived his injuries, he'd be bound for Azura. If not, he and Iven would be digging up every grave between there and Trinetta to find the body. Galeron blinked. Had finding Atreus become that important? The man had to be dealt with one way or another, but here he was considering digging up graves to be absolutely certain the mage had met his end.

  "What do you know about alchemy?" asked Lonni.

  Galeron jerked out of his thoughts. "Alchemy?"

  Lonni rubbed the bridge of her nose with one hand. "Yes, alchemy. Do you know anything about it?"

  He shook his head. "Not much. I know of the four basic states: earth, water, air, and flame. Otherwise, that's about it."

  "It'll do." Lonni thumbed through her tome. "I'm creating a smokeless night dust, among other projects, but these Han texts are so complicated." She held it aloft and shook it. "Sometimes, I want to dump dust on it and watch it burn."

  Galeron stared at her. What did she expect him to do about it? He could read the text without issue, having learned the Han system of letters on an extended mission there. Knowing what the words meant was another matter.

  "I do know it's based on how someone pronounces a word," he said.

  "I know," she said. "One word could mean 'cabbage,' 'sulfur,' or 'father.' I thought they came with diction marks."

  Galeron frowned. "Only for foreigners and children." He cocked his head to one side. "Those aren't children's stories."

  "No," said Lonni. "Han alchemists have been struggling to develop smokeless dust for decades. Papa spent a small fortune on this tome, hoping I could succeed with their knowledge." She shook her head. "It's been a year, and I've nothing to show for it. I don't think it's possible." Lonni slammed the book shut. "Smoke always accompanies a flame. What is night dust but powerful fire? It can't be done." She looked at him, as if waiting for him to say something.

  He paused. There was nothing to say. If she had been working on the problem this long, he certainly wasn't going to solve it by breakfast. Still, she expected some form of speech, it seemed. "I'm a humble mercenary with open ears, but I don't know what to tell you."

  "You're useless," she said, staring at the ceiling.

  Galeron said nothing. In this instance it was true, but she didn't have to point that out. Lonni didn't seem to be much for tact, and Galeron spent much of the morning and afternoon learning how much he didn't know about alchemy and mathematics. Lonni peppered him with questions, ranging from simple unit conversions to complex alchemical formula.

  "Is there a point to this?" Galeron asked after her fourth round of questions.

  "How else can I determine how much you know?" asked Lonni.

  "I'll save you the trouble," Galeron said. "It's not much."

  With very little to do on the journey, the cycle repeated over and over again. Lonni presented a blend of ingredients for the powder and fired questions at him. By the time Iven took his bandages off, Galeron had a good idea of the core ingredients for night dust, as useful as that was. Lonni had also shown him the prototype firelock she called the mule.

  "Why call it that?" asked Iven as he inspected Galeron's shoulder around the evening meal fire.

  "Because it's small and it kicks like one," she said, prying at its firing lock with a small hand tool. She sighed and dropped it next to her in disgust. "Lock is too compressed."

  "Well, it is a small weapon," said Iven, prodding the flesh around Galeron's collarbone.

  He winced as a stab of pain bolted up his neck. "Watch it."

  "Time to start those stretches," Iven said.

  "The flint keeps getting jammed," Lonni said, stretching out beside the weapon and glaring at it. "I made it too small."

  Iven stood up. "Done." He turned to Lonni. "You do metalwork, too?"

  She didn't move. "When it suits me."

  Iven raised his eyebrows and looked at Galeron. "She mixes night dust and does metalwork. Why has some blacksmith not married her?"

  "They couldn't handle me," Lonni said.

  "There's a truth." Rand walked up and sat down next to Lonni's head. "Some days, I wonder who runs our business, duckling. Me or you?"

  "Please, Papa, don't," she
said. "We both do what we have to."

  "That's true, but some of us do it better than others," he said. "Just spoke with our caravan master. We aren't far from Azura, but the going will be slow. Apparently, the highway cuts through a large portion of farmers' pastures."

  "Why is that important?" asked Iven.

  "Driving season," said Galeron. "Farmers will be switching pastures during midsummer."

  "So, you do know something," Lonni said. "That's not common knowledge for a mercenary. Where'd you learn that?"

  Galeron scowled. He'd learned it from Melia before helping her father drive his cattle to the next grazing field, but there was no way he'd bring her up. "I learned it on my own time."

  Iven moaned. "Get over her, already."

  "We don't need to discuss this," said Galeron.

  "Considering I can't even mention farming in your presence without your sinking into some dark and angry hole, I'd say you should get it off your mind," said Iven.

  "What's he rambling about?" asked Lonni.

  "Last harvest, Galeron was all set to settle down and marry this waif of a farm girl," Iven said over Galeron's choking sounds.

  There really wasn't a reason to tell this story. Lonni and Rand had been nice enough to let them travel together, but that didn't mean they had to hear his tale of failed romance. Galeron rested his head on his good hand, eyes averted from Lonni.

  "Really?" she asked. "He was going to get married?"

  Iven chuckled. "My reaction. Apparently, he knew this girl before the wars, and she promised him that, if he returned, they'd be together. So he, and everyone else of fighting age, goes off to the north. Five years later, war's over, and he goes back home. Melia's waiting for him, as promised, but now her father demands an insane amount of coin for her hand, far beyond the pay of a common soldier."

  "That's why he didn't get married?" asked Lonni.

  "Hold on to your hat, I'm not done yet," Iven said. "Galeron's nothing if not stubborn, so--"

  "Iven, they get the picture," said Galeron. "You really don't need to keep going." His face burned as he looked from Iven to Rand, and, ever so briefly, to Lonni.

  "You can't just stop a story in the middle," Iven said.