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  Hold the presses, is that? Yes, it is! The Fellowship of the Sword. Even if I hate Malik’s Dock Boys, these Bloody Swords are even worse. If the rumours I have heard are true … Nah, there is no way they could get away with murdering a whole village because Roth and Viktor lost control. The Blue Aspect Inquisitors would never allow it, they would send their police to arrest them! They believe in the law too much to let this happen. It is great having the courts under control of the church.

  But what are they doing in here? Helmut, Roth, Viktor, Vali, and hangers-on. Great, it seems that the whole gang is here—my mistake, I mean Charter, not gang. How can a fallen knight become a leader of a registered Charter?

  They are not in my section, though. The veteran guy needs to make sure he does not push that lot. Roth would butcher him with that cleaver of his.

  “Hey!” Corbin is yelling. “Fight, idiot!”

  Bloody typical. A couple of workmen fighting over most likely nothing.

  “You two, cut it out!” I yell.

  Ignored. Fine, then! Knees and elbows. Both of them drop with little effort.

  “Oi, what’d you do that for?” one of the ugly men asks me. Like I care.

  “I warned you two. Leave with teeth or without. Your choice.”

  They pick themselves up, limping a little. “Fine. The women are better down at the docks anyway.”

  That is true. Except for Pela … so swishy.

  “Let’s go.” A quick death stare, then they are out the door. Good start.

  What else is happening? Most of the hardened thugs are having a good laugh. At my expense, I guess. The Fellowship has not noticed me. That last beating they gave me was not fun. Wait up, is Pela serving them now? I know they could afford her. Bloody typical, Roth is going to have a go at her. I cannot watch this. There goes the eye candy. Bloody Roth. Huh? She must not like ape-men too. Lucky for me that I am not one. Maybe I have a chance after all. Roth goes for the grab.

  Roth, such a butcher of a man with a face that even a mother would not love, adores his meat cleaver. I hope Pela will be alright. She seems to be a tough girl, laughing it off and slapping his hand playfully away. Good on you, girl. I guess you need to have thick skin working in a place like this. She returns with another round and Roth pulls her onto his lap with a little grope. She stands up, turns and slaps him across the face. Helmut and the others just laugh, but he is standing up now.

  Should I involve myself? Looking around, none of the other 'bouncers' is moving toward that table. With the Bloody Swords’ reputation, this will get nasty soon.

  “Hey, Roth!” I call over the crowd. “What are you doing over here?”

  He looks up and yells, “Go away, little man, this has nothing to do with you! She slapped me, so now she is going to have to make it up to me!”

  I walk over and step in front of Pela. “Well, Roth, I’m working here now, and I can’t have you manhandling the staff. Now, be a nice guy for once, have a drink on me. Then head down to the docks later and pick up someone who wants your charms.”

  “What did you say to me?” He stands nose to nose with me, his rough face sneering. The spray of spittle is not pleasant. “I’m not good enough for this whore? And who are you to tell me who I can poke? Is that right, little man?”

  “Roth, my friend, I did not mean that you are not an upstanding citizen with fantastic hygiene, but—”

  At this point, the conversation ends with a left hook straight to my jaw. That hurts! As I fly back into another patron, I realise my mistake.

  “Come on, lads, let’s drag this good for nothing outside and beat the living shit out of him!” Roth bellows.

  Now I have made Roth an enemy. Great. Just need one more thug to try to kill me to make this a perfect day. Well, I gave my word to work here for the next two days, and this is part of the job. Cannot fight in here, though—it might turn into an all-out brawl.

  “Okay, Roth, let's go outside,” I say, with an apologetic look towards the patron I bumped. “But do you really need these others to help your ‘manhood’ stay straight, or can you do it with your own hands—I mean, take it into your own hands?”

  Score one for the dead man! As Roth’s face turns purple, Helmut stands up and, in an insanely quiet voice, says, “Roth, be a man. Fight one on one. It’s the honourable thing to do.”

  Corbin walks over with a massive club slung over one shoulder. “Clear a space. We’ll have it in here.” He looks around and laughs. “Looks like we’ve got a show tonight, boys!”

  Now with my luck of late, I cannot help wondering if this was a set-up. Or maybe I am just that lucky? Oh, well.

  Corbin yells, “As I’m now running this contest, it’ll be with fists. No weapons! I don’t want to explain to the Watch why Roth killed someone in my saloon.”

  A good laugh from the crowd. Great, everyone thinks I have already lost. Well, I can give as good as I get … maybe. Too late now. At least there is a gorgeous face watching … What? Pela is nowhere to be seen! Great, my luck has definitely turned.

  I need to win some of this crowd over to my side. “Come on, people!” Turning to Roth now. “I’m going to crack your head with my fist! Yes, I will punch you so hard that … you will hurt bad!”

  The crowd laughs at this; snickers ripple throughout the place. Roth turns to the crowd and points to a puddle at my feet. “See, he is already pissing himself!”

  Someone must have spilt a drink between my legs—most likely Vali, that sneaky bastard! Now, this duel is an outright mockery. “Steel yourself and just fight!” Sarge always said. ‘If a fight is dirty, take any advantage you can.’

  Good, he is distracted, insulting me to the crowd. Throwing all my weight behind it, I punch Roth in the small of his back. Then again—and again! Was that a crack? Well, I wasn't going to wait for him to be ready.

  What? It had no effect? Roth turns, looks at me, roars and charges. Need to make this count! Sidestep him. Aim for the side of his neck. Hitting his shoulder—not the best plan. Damn it, that really hurt. My hand is not broken, though. Just shake it out.

  Looking up, where is Roth? He is on the floor, not moving. Did I kill him with that shoulder shot? Oh, wait, no. He slipped on that puddle Vali made! Trinity is smiling upon me! Just have to finish this now. No one will miss him, after all.

  Is that a shadow?

  Waking up in a strange bed! Floral curtains, pretty glass ornaments and it is tidy. Even the air smells like freshly-cut flowers. What? This is not the Anvil and Musket. I am in a strange room, in someone else’s bed, pulling up the fluffy bed cover which has embroidered edges ... and I am naked too. Now I am officially weirded out.

  Looking around, I wonder where I am. Screw that, why the Abyssus am I naked? Where are my clothes? There they are, folded neatly beside my armour and sword. There is my nearly empty wallet too. Starting to freak out! But lying in this bed is so comfortable, and it smells nice. Like a beautiful woman.

  Okay, okay, who put me in here, and got me undressed? A woman, I hope. Please, Trinity, be a woman. Don’t really care if she is good-looking, I had enough guys looking at me in the army, not like I was into that. Now I cannot stop thinking about looking at my army comrades naked. Urgh.

  As the door opens, Pela walks in—jackpot!

  “Oh, you are awake. I thought you’d be sleeping. How are you feeling? When that fight started, I went to fetch the Watch. I saw you on the ground being kicked and punched by Helmut and his goons.”

  She starts to cry. I have no idea why. Women are strange.

  “You came to protect me … Thank you. I brought you to my place and made Corbin pay for a healer—that will teach him!”

  Dumbstruck! A beautiful woman saved me, took me to her place, got a healer, and then got me naked. Best morning ever—except for nearly dying yesterday for the second time!

  “Thank you, Pela. I would have been a dead man. And you are welcome as well. I would think anyone else would have done the same thing. If you do not
mind passing me my pants, I will get out of your way.”

  She blushes and turns to me. “You don’t have to go. You could … stay.”

  Now, I am not a cynic, but a beautiful woman asking me to stay? Yeah, right. As my past always shows me, I am not that lucky.

  “No, I think it would be better for me to go. I do not have too much money. Sorry, but thank you for everything. My pants?”

  Pela walks up and punches me in the face, growling at me, “Money? Get your own pants! If you are still here when I get back—” a small knife appears in her hand “—I’ll take your balls, you Truth-spawn!” She turns and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

  “Who you calling a Truth-spawn? We’re both half-breeds!”

  Suggesting she was a lady of the night was my stuff-up—foot, meet mouth. My nose is bleeding. Oh well. Get dressed and see if I can get my stuff back.

  Head over to the sink in the kitchen, turning the tap, quickly wash my face and body. Not great, but do not have time to head to a bathhouse.

  That courier should have delivered my package to Malik by now. I will just nip back to that hole the Anvil and Musket, and deal with Corbin another time; one bad guy at a time.

  Let me see how this new morning can kick me in the Jara’s hammers.

  Chapter Five

  Journal Entry One continued…

  I was so hung up on street names back then, but now when I look back, I realise they do make sense. But did I find out who thought them all up, or was I drunk, because I remember his name as Stupid Stupidson!

  Why am I such an idiot? Glad it is early morning, not too many people around. Starting to feel like the walk of shame. Thug-man last night said she was two hundred slips! Never heard of a woman costing that much, but she could have been mine for nothing!

  Leaving, just wondering where I am. Ah, it’s Residential Road, which leads to Bakers Street. I love Bakers Street, the smell of freshly baked bread, a real nose-delight. Maybe I should have a little breakfast? No, I need my stuff and everything else. If I can make it to the Musket while the Dock Boys are not around, that would be the best thing.

  I can cut across the marketplace to Market Lane. Market Lane connects to Route Street, cuts across to Fish Lane, then down to Dock Street. So, let me guess, you need to take Route Street from Dock Street to get to Market Lane?

  Someone needs to put forward a formal complaint against the people who name the streets, or just find someone to smack them on the side of the head and say, “Come on, just come on! I think it is time to rethink the names of the streets.” Then smack them again, just to make sure they understand.

  Get your mind in the game. If you stumble on the Boys, they might want to repay you for yesterday. Keep it casual and stick to the crowds. No back alleys for me today. Learned my lesson.

  Those Dock Boys should be working the docks now, moving this and that. Hopefully, there are not many inside the inn.

  As I step into the Anvil and Musket, Malik, Jimmy, and the rest of the Dock Boys are huddled together at a table like a dark cloud of useless filth. What are they doing here? Just one day that is all I ask. Why have you forsaken me, Trinity? I give, well, some money, and pray to you. You need to have my back sometimes.

  Move back outside quickly! No one has followed me. Now I just have to think of a way to blend in.

  Oomph! Some rude Dwarf just shouldered me out of the way. Hey, I believe that it is a lady Dwarf; bloody broad shoulders though. Armed too—they make anyone Adventurers. Why me? This is not helping. Must decide soon. Standing out here makes me look weird.

  What should I do, stay or leave? What is with me today? Was it last night’s beating or me screwing up with Pela this morn? Not sure, need to get my head back into the game.

  There is the back door, but last time the Dock Boys had that covered. Think, think! There is the usual-sized crowd, even this early in the morning.

  A chord is struck. That sounds familiar. Poking my head back through. That same bard from the Hall is playing the best song ever, ‘A Sailor Came to Port’. Maybe this will give me the distraction I need!

  A sailor came to port one day

  to see what he could find.

  He found a lusty wench that day,

  which boggled his mind.

  But in the end, he found

  that he had no play in sight.

  So the sailor left port that day,

  as he called it a night.

  A sailor came to port one day

  to see what he could find.

  He found a hundred slips upon this day,

  which boggled his mind.

  After shouting a few rounds,

  he ran out of drinks to delight.

  So the sailor left port that day,

  as he called it a night.

  Second verse. Most should be up and sing along. That Dwarf is talking to Bruce. Some sort of commotion, now she is being surrounded by Malik and crew. Great, I can make it to the back stairs.

  A sailor came to port one day

  to see what he could find.

  He found a sure bet upon this day,

  which boggled his mind.

  The bet was not so sound,

  so he had to run for his life.

  So the sailor left port that day,

  as he called it a night.

  Love this song. I have a few verses I know quite well too. My sailor finds a party, or he finds a great meal. On to important matters—nearing the back staircase. Do not want to be in that Dwarf's shoes.

  A sailor came to port one day

  to see what he could find.

  He found some trouble upon this day,

  which boggled his mind.

  The fight was quite short,

  as he gave it some knife.

  So the sailor left port that day,

  as he called it a night.

  A sailor came to port…

  Made it. Should be smooth sailing from here. Please, Trinity, make it easy for me. There is no one on the first level. Only one flight of stairs, and down those back stairs I love so much. No, Trinity is frowning upon me—two of Malik's goons are guarding my door. Hang on, aren't they … Yeah, the same thugs from yesterday. My luck! Thanks, Trinity! Took them once, why not again?

  Drawing my sword, I walk up to them. “Hi, guys, fancy seeing you here. I see you drew the short straws, standing watch at little old me's room. You shouldn’t have.”

  The half-dwarf from yesterday, well, I must have cracked his cheekbone. Have to admit, his face was not pretty before, but now it is a mess of bruises. He says, “Here you are, dung-head!”

  Wow, amazing that they can still remember that funny nickname of mine.

  “We’re gonna kill you!”

  “Just remember boys, what happened before. I do not want to hurt you two, but I will if you force me.”

  Hang on, if I let them go, they will tell Malik. How to keep them here … Oh, don’t worry, they are coming at me.

  The other one yells, “Payback is sweet, dung-head!”

  These Dock Boys seem dangerous now. From their body language, they are here to kill me. Maybe I should run. Such a coward sometimes. Running would not end up being so terrific! Let us be sober—and murderous. Them or me, and I like me. Two versus one, not bad odds. They cannot spread out. Angles will be determined by skill. Having the advantage of length—and I have a big sword too. Score two for the dead man!

  The two thugs have thrusting swords in their hands; recruits’ swords. Guessing their skill levels, they both just come at me, thrusting with abandon.

  Just need to deflect, and now step. Lopping the hand off one of the thugs. Stupid goons. The other just steps in and blindly stabs into his mate. Sidestep and quick throat thrust, and it is over. Trying to overpower people with little skill is not how you win a sword fight. Oh well.

  What do they have? Two short swords, a couple of knives, a few more slips, and a lovely semi-precious gem. For unskilled thugs, they keep their weapons well
oiled. Should find someone to buy this stuff. No time to stand here thinking about it—got to get my own stuff!

  Wash off the blood, change my clothes. What to take: backpack, a few odds and ends. Clothes, whetstone, oil. Flog the blanket for the weapons. Cocking my ear, can't hear the song that much anymore. Must have died down. That is enough, haven't taken everything—Malik needs to still think I am here. But the bodies? I stash them in another room. One of these quarters must be unlocked. It has to be the one furthest away. Now, the blood? Blankets and water. Does not need to be perfectly clean—there have always been bloodstains in this place anyway.

  Not going down the front stairs. Taking the discreet back entrance would be the best bet now. Should head over to Blacksmith Street off Tradesmen Court to sell these weapons. Cannot be walking around Lake Merrin strapped with blades. Route Street first. There must be a better way. If I take Warehouse Place to Tanner Lane, then Wall Boulevard, that would get me past Craftsmen Avenue and Blacksmith Street. With the Boys down in the Musket, Malik should not have a presence in the warehouse district. No main roads—better for me in the long run. Malik has pickpocket spies around.

  As I enter Tanner Lane, the smells of stale piss and dung are not very pleasant. But most ordinary people do not hang out here, except for one of Malik's rival gangs—the Wilted Flower Gang. Not sure why they call themselves that when they smell like sweaty tanners. Must be easier for people to want them gone after they pickpocket their wallets. Also, a good way to always find out where they are.

  Wall Boulevard is an easy road—no patrols, not many people either. Just a clear walk to where you need to go. Peacetime is excellent; there has not been a war in ages.

  Finally at Blacksmith Street. Hang on, before I choose a smithy, is there a maker’s mark on these swords? Of course not—that will drive the price down. Was thinking two hundred slips, now I will be lucky to receive a hundred.