The Knight of Tanner's Square

7

The father left the Grimm lands with the devoted twenty as he walked deep into the Blackhorn Mountains, looking to expand the realm of the first race.

The journey was hard, and it took years, hard years before they settled in a valley underneath the twin peaks of Rowena — a frigid new home as they dug deep in the mountains to survive the harsh climate.

The children of the twenty multiplied and became what we are now, the Minoans, becoming a hard culture that worshiped the Father above all. We flourished and created a dwelling that rivaled our cousins.

Generations passed, and they looked at us in envy. It was the envy of Mercruxes that drove the Grimm; he corrupted many to his twisted outlook and turned the first races against one another.

The father shamed his children, but it was too late. They spurned his wisdom, and in his punishment, he left them to their folly. The children of Xarl fell into war and decay, and in the end, it brought about their extinction.

The Grimm lost their way, and in the ashes, the Minoans found prayer. We asked for the father’s forgiveness, and from the heavens, he gave his second children his favor.

The father’s children grew once again, and they reached out to the savages who called themselves the race of Abingdon. In love, they spread the word of Xarl, and in faith, they prosper and follow the Father’s word.

The Father knows all and his word means obedience. The wicked are damned to dwell with Mercruxes, the gaoler of Hades, whose deception feeds the lost.

The Gospel of Xarl

The Doveling Awakes

“Why will you not release him, Captain Withers?” Edmund asked. “He has been in the stockade for nearly a fortnight, while you avoided my request for an audience.”

“I am not required to give you one,” Arlo replied sternly. “There are sergeants who want to exact revenge upon him. If I let him go and they find him, then I inherit another problem, don’t I?”

“Yes, you will have many dead sergeants,” Edmund replied, regretting the words that had come out of his mouth. “I am sorry for that.”

Arlo gave him a sour glance. The captain remained silent while he sent one of his men to fetch him some parchment. “He is tending to the prisoners there as they wait for sentencing. His orders are simple: feed them, dump their chamber pots, and return to his quarters after the evening meal,” Arlo informed him.

“In there, he will not do any harm unless he kills a prisoner. Surely your brother isn’t that stupid?” Arlo added, disappointed. “I had high hopes for him, to let him train for a few months and then move him up. The dumb lout can’t make it a week of rounds before causing trouble. What is it with you two?” Arlo asked under a worried brow. The man looked like he needed three days of sleep.

“How am I part of this?” Edmund asked while noticing a few sergeants peering into the captain’s quarters. Their glares carried no warmth to him being there.

“You both came in with bloody leathers, then the whole calamity in Faust. You come back here with one less man and one less arm on another.” Arlo jerked his arms up in frustration. “He nearly kills a sergeant, and you buy a cursed flophouse that has been nothing but a drunkard’s layabout for three decades.”

“That reminds me, I am having a gathering this afternoon to celebrate the opening of our tavern.”

“I will provide a small meal and a horn of ale if any of you or your sergeants would like to attend. I will consider it an honor and hope it will smooth things with some of your men toward my brother’s harsh behavior,” Edmund said, trying to change the captain’s question. “I see a few gentlemen are peering inside now. Gentlemen, let me invite you to—”

“That’s enough,” Arlo growled out. “You want to help your brother, then I need to know a few things.”

“The reason they exiled him?”

“No, I need to know what happened after you left Lonoke,” Arlo demanded. “Don’t lie, lad, or I will send another parchment to your uncle. Maybe exiling your brother myself is the best option. He has become a headache for me,” the captain rambled.

“We will need to close the door then,” Edmund replied.

Edmund was not sure how he wanted to explain it. He had no other way but to be honest. How much of that honesty he needed to share, though, he wasn’t sure. He begged for the captain’s secrecy, to make him understand how delicate this information was. Arlo laughed at him and told him if he didn’t talk, he was exiling him as well.

Edmund divulged all about the task with Peregrine, but he declined to give him his theory of the missing corpse from the Butcher’s Wail being in their chest. He wasn’t too concerned about that part of the tale; it was the wild one in Loreto that made him withhold information from the man.

He described the misfortune of Osmond’s death and Julius’s crippling injury in Loreto, withholding his experience with sorcery, the deal he made with Etric, or the hidden village of Penenza.

He had to lie about where the ale was coming from, so he told Arlo that when they left Loreto, the next town they came up to was Liston, where he discovered the ale. Liston existed and Edmund was using the town to store wares so Darsow could shorten his routes.

“You expect me to believe you were in Loreto, a place no man from the Triad has ever been before?” Arlo laughed out loud mocking him. “You are a liar!”

“You can ask Harwin to confirm this.”

“Oh, I will confirm this!” the captain said. “You get your fancy cloak and get out of here. I was hoping you would be a help, but all you can do is give me an even bigger headache.”

That didn’t go well, Edmund thought as he exited Arlo Withers’s sitting quarters. The ward sergeants looked at him with bitter stares when he was trying to walk by. He smiled and invited them all to join him for an early supper.

These were the type of men he would like to make his patrons. He could only hope with a few horns, he might get the rancor off of his older brother’s back, but he received no replies except a cordial bugger off from Sully Nickles, who seemed to never have a good thing to say.

Arlo Withers told him that no one would bother Harwin, or they had to answer to him, but Edmund doubted just how much control the captain still had over his men.

The violence had escalated since Harwin’s arrest. A street merchant had died, and it had been the third since they had returned. Julius gave him the sad news that poor Ridley, the man Edmund nearly got stabbed over peddling apples, was beaten up several days ago and gave up his cart.

Julius had brought his lummox, Dudley, to stay with them. Edmund protested, but Julius assured him that was the muscle they needed. He found several orphans from the Horn, and a few from the Widow’s Ward, to run errands and fetch water to the ten rooms they had rented out on the second floor.

They were all dock workers Julius filched from the back alleys tenements that were happy to pay the same four silver oaks a week to dwell on Old Street. They had to make money, and Edmund had put fifty falcons from his accounts into buying lumber and meals for the people he had just employed.

He walked past the dock square but turned left to visit several merchants along Old Street to invite them to his early evening audience. Comer Wilkins, the merchant that Thad Griffin linked him with to buy goods from for his tavern, was invited, and he happily said he would be there.

Edmund invited Thad, too, knowing it would be an insult not to, and he invited Dillard Reese, who was his rival ward boss in the Horn, to annoy him.

It didn’t take long in his venture for Thad to inquire on how they could move product to him under the watchful nose of the Exchequer of Breeston, Jason Tavares. The counts he received were deflated from the actual items that Comer delivered, and the favors they were giving him were mounting.

In time, these men would want a favor returned, and that worried him. Edmund did more listening than suggesting as he looked over his receipts compared to the goods he had in his stores. He was wise to hand over half the savings that Thad and Comer had conveyed to him in silver handshakes.

Julius had found six carpenters after they finished the transaction with Verigen, and they had been constructing beds, and furnishings, and reinforcing the front and rear entrances. Edmund chose common ash doors, but strong with bronze banding to keep any man out, whether it was a thief or rioter. Edmund would be prepared for both.

Julius found two more brutes yesterday looking for a home, who went by Philip Case and Hap Arwell, who both hated their names and called themselves Blunt and Hackles.

Blunt said little, a half-breed of Nuhrish height with blue eyes, Breeston curls, and olive skin. He had a mastiff jaw and oversized hands, and a cruel-looking cudgel with an iron-studded band around the fat end hung near his hip. Hackles, a name earned from his consistent coughing was more interesting. He was born in Raines and had the papers to prove it, he bragged.

He talked a lot, coughed even more between words, and blinked more than any man Edmund had ever seen. He claimed he was good with a dagger, and Julius confirmed that with a solid nod and a pat on his back. They were cheap, working for food, a bed, and any spare copper they could get, and Julius vouched for them.

The two rough goons were outside along the inn’s front walk, looking about as Edmund approached. He wasn’t sure what to make of the two. They were more complex than the lummox Dudley; they talked.

“How was your walk, Lord Edmund?” Hackles said between coughs.

“You can just call me Edmund.”

“We like Lord Edmund,” Blunt said with his graveled voice.

“It suits you well. This place is like a manse, and if everyone calls you lord, then that makes us the lord’s men,” Hackles added with a devious smile. “Julius has some fine maids for you to gawk over. He also told me to tell you that Darsow has returned and is bringing a special shipment here. He also said something else. Do you remember, Blunt?” Hackles asked, scratching his chin.

“I wasn’t listening; he told you.”

“I think I know what he wants,” Edmund said to relieve himself of their odd folly. “Carry on, men.”

“Yes, Lord Edmund,” Blunt growled out.

Edmund would need to interview some of these men Julius was bringing, he thought. The carpenters Julius found needed to be watched at all times. They could get themselves from sober to drunk in mere minutes and be worthless for half the day after.

They did good work and with his sharp direction, they had finished the second and third floors. The front door they had banded with bronze, and they were half done with the first floor’s inner shudders.

When he entered, Julius was already waiting with ten other tenants, Edmund noticed. They were all smiles, and that meant Julius had already given them a tour of the apartments on the third floor, up the stairway through the hallway behind the tavern. Edmund told Julius he was seeking custom agents, men who could be encouraged to miscount a few barrels here and there when Darsow made his deliveries.

“You were a little detained,” Julius said, smiling. “I took the initiative to show these admirable men around.”

“You are ever the good host, Master Julius,” Edmund replied in a noble tone. “So, I was hoping to inquire where you men stay, and how much you are paying for your recent quarters?”

Three of them were staying at the Moosehead, two at the Yellow Frog, with the rest a spattering of Biddy Mulligans, the Fuzzy Duck, the Swallow, and two still lived with their mother as each of them studied him with odd glares.

“I will be frank with you gentlemen, our rooms’ prices are reasonable. We are asking for seven silvers a week for the center rooms, and nine for the back-corner rooms with the views to our courtyards when we have them constructed. The front corner rooms are not available yet, but I am asking twelve for them. It will come with a larger bed, with a feather mattress, and let’s not forget the view out to the water.”

In a flash, the three from the Moosehead jumped on the center rooms, as did the ones from the Yellow Frog, and handed silver over to him.

“Julius, please entertain these eager men and hand them a snort of our special mead.” The rest lingered and looked like the type looking to barter or bribe.

Edmund met them one at a time, to keep them from trying to gang up on him all at once. The one from the Swallow wanted a center room for six silvers, which Edmund denied immediately.

“We will open our tavern this evening, please sample some of our delicacies and then make your decision.” Edmund had also placed the same terms on the man from the Fuzzy Duck. He was quick to tell both men that another group was coming by a few hours later, and both coughed up seven silver quickly.

Edmund had a tougher time with the man from Biddy Mulligans. He knew the old cutlass fighter’s room and tavern was the best in the Horn. He was firm on wanting a front corner room at eleven when they were ready. Edmund had lied — he had those two ready but was hoping to get the warehouse bosses that oversaw his storage quarters at the Breeston piers.

“I tell you what, how about I get you a larger tub? You saw the ones that Julius showed you in the center rooms. Let me arrange it for you, and I will also give you a token for an ale every morning.” The man thought long and hard and agreed to Edmund’s price as the two momma’s boys lingered. Edmund laughed under his breath because those corner rooms had larger tubs anyway. He only had to promise the ale.

The last lads were young and must have been new to their job at the piers. “You two were not impressed?” he asked in his merchant’s tone.

The pair looked at one another. “We are not looking to spoil most of our coin in a room for ourselves,” one said. “We want to be roommates, share the costs.”

Edmund thought about it. “You have friends looking for something similar? Others looking to get out of the comforts of a mother’s nagging tongue?”

“We know several,” the other said.

It gave Edmund an idea, and he felt ignorant he hadn’t thought of it earlier. “Our next vacancies will be available soon, my next renovation. How about you two find me several others, and I will rent the smaller rooms for five silvers, but with two smaller beds.”

“It will be a little cramped, but if you provide me with patrons, then I will let you live a week here for free. It should compare better. And will you be frequent patrons?” Edmund inquired. He could make more from them in the tavern if their mother’s cooking wasn’t worth the extra walk.

“We will return within a week,” the lads replied, both enthused.

“Very well, those rooms will be waiting for you,” Edmund said while rising from the table Julius had set up. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I have other affairs to attend to.”

“Lord Edmund,” Hackles interrupted him. The two lads leered at the brute, alarmed, then back at Edmund, confused.

“Yes?” Edmund said, dignified.

“The tavern girls are waiting, and I think they are getting bored.”

“Send them in at once,” Edmund replied with a wave of the hand as the baffled lads departed, gawking at the young women that entered — wearing their best gowns, Edmund noticed. If they had any doubts before, that got them doused, Edmund thought as he watched them smile, leering at the women in lustful thoughts.

Julius had joined him at the table as they noticed Darsow and his lads bringing in the kegs from his rig.

“Please direct them to the stores, Dudley,” Edmund said as the lummox stared at him blankly and then turned to walk to the kitchens.

“You like this ordering around,” Julius said while trying to adjust in his chair.

“You need to get in the habit,” Edmund said while looking over the lot Julius had scoured the wards for. “They are your people too, now, to run in my stead after we get the thing full and running.”

“Don’t you sound like a regal noble,” Julius laughed. “I think I did my best work here. These ladies are divine, if I must boast.”

“I noticed you brought Lucy,” Edmund commented. “She is staring at me, and it’s making me feel uncomfortable.”

“Well, she still is under the delusion that you are handsome. I am not quite what I used to be,” Julius said while flicking the knot in his sleeve. “You don’t mind I invited her?” he whispered close to Edmund.

“How have you been, Lucy?” Edmund said graciously. “I was not expecting you, but I am honored that you are interested.”

“Oh, I am interested,” she said with a smile as he heard laughs from the goons.

Edmund wasn’t sure if she was talking about the position and he caught himself in a blush. “We are looking for serving ladies. I assume Julius gave you the details of what we are expecting.”

“We are offering quarters, and two silvers as wages a week. You can work for five a week if you have homes elsewhere. I know that you own a nice dwelling, Lucy, and if the patrons grace you ladies with any coppers of appreciation of service, then you keep it.”

“Oh, I will be dwelling here, Edmund,” Lucy replied with a warm smile. “I made an agreement with Madge, and she will rent my place in the ward. So, I am all yours,” she remarked, with her big brown eyes fixed upon him.

“Very well,” Edmund said with a catch in his voice; her mannerism had him almost stuttering. “Is anyone else interested?” he croaked.

“We are,” two girls — twins, Edmund realized — answered at the same time. They were half-breeds, with tanned skin under light brown hair perched over large breasts and hazel eyes that melted Julius in his chair.

“These two are Meg and Peg,” Julius stuttered out. “They are working at the Moosehead and many suitors follow their shifts.”

“Well, will you be living here or elsewhere?”

“By the gods, say here,” Julius whispered under his breath while Edmund shot him a glare.

“We are definitely accepting the terms. This place is a manse. We will move in as soon as possible,” Meg said, or maybe it was Peg.

“I will send the lads to fetch your things when you are ready,” Julius firmly added.

“Let me make it clear, we are not to harass these girls, especially you,” Edmund whispered to Julius as Hackles coughed oddly behind them, which could have been mistaken for a laugh.

“I hope you have room for another tavern girl,” a tall, gangly Nuhrish girl said with a pretty smile. “My name is Brenda Willows.” She was taller than Julius, skinny with little shape, but her face was pretty, pale with green eyes under black and brown hair that rested halfway down her back in a long tail.

“I thought of your brother,” Julius whispered to him.

Edmund looked at him like he was a fool. “I take it this one doesn’t fancy you, like the twins?” he whispered back.

“I fancy them all.”

“Me too, Lord Edmund,” Blunt groveled out. The two goons were getting odd looks upon them from the ladies; they must have appeared like two vultures, standing behind them with starving eyes.

“I apologize.” Edmund recovered. “Um, will you live on the grounds as well?”

“Indeed, my lord,” the Nuhrish girl replied, blushing back at him. Edmund thought the taller woman gave him a small wink before she turned away, following the twins to get a glimpse at their quarters.

“And you?” Edmund said to a short Breeston woman with wide hips and pouty lips, whose thick curls were emptying onto bouncing breasts pushed high in the gown she was wearing.

“I’m Cindy,” she said with eyes looking upon Julius like a hawk leering at a mouse. “And I’m moving in.”

“I assume you are fine with the terms,” Edmund said as she ignored him and sauntered away to giggle among the other girls.

“Let’s speed things along. Is anyone not interested in the job?” Edmund asked.

Only one of the three remaining had raised her hand. She was young, not as flirty as the other girls, but she was attractive. A little taller than Lucy, with lighter hair than most of the Breeston girls, Edmund was used to seeing. She was thin, firm, and looking at the others with rolled eyes, so Edmund had her wait as he addressed the other two.

“You two are?” Edmund asked.

“Melanie,” the first said.

“Delayna,” the second said.

The girls were sisters from the Bollox ward. They worked in a kettle shop kitchen for their father, who ended up broke, Julius informed him. The women were lean, with straight black hair and brown eyes, with more yellow in their olive skin, and each with a devious smile. Their smiles had Hackles’ full attention as he stood next to Julius, mesmerized.

“I assume we acquired our first seven,” Edmund said. “Will you need assistance moving in?” This place is turning into a strumpethouse once again, he was thinking to himself. He should have known Julius would seek these types.

“We will take the five silvers; we need to help our paw,” Delayna said.

The woman’s response had deflated poor Hackles, who looked like the type to sneak in her quarters at night. The thought was bothering Edmund.

“I want the two goons living on the upper floor. We will make them quarters up there. Dudley will stay below to sleep near the door,” he whispered to Julius, sending the goons a few steps behind them. “The last thing we need is a bunch of pregnant women trying to serve ale out here,” he mentioned to a giggling Julius, before composing himself to address the lone woman remaining.

“I appreciate you visiting us. I am sorry our terms were not to your liking,” Edmund said to the girl while he rose from his chair.

“Are you the brother of the man who they arrested for beating a constable?” the girl asked.

“I don’t recall inviting her, Edmund,” Julius replied.

“Is he still in custody?” the girl asked. “Can I speak to his captain? To tell him your brother saved me, and that man he beat wanted to rape me. He had been harassing me for days. I don’t think it is fair that he is in custody and that man is not.”

“You are right, miss,” Julius agreed. “Did we converse the other day when I was looking for help?”

“You did, but not with me. You talked to another that worked there. She was a little more bouncy, which is your fancy,” the girl said boldly.

“I am sorry if I offended you. I overlooked you, but that is my mistake; you are plenty fair, madam,” Julius sweet-talked her but lacked the exuberance from the earlier interviews.

“Shut your gob. The girls know all about your honeyed words,” she quickly bit back which made Blunt laugh loudly behind them.

“I apologize if our behavior seems randy. I sent my partner out to find experienced women for the task. He is a flirter, as you suggested, but he is aware that drunkards loosen their purses with pretty girls lingering around them,” Edmund admitted. “I am more interested in a person who can do an exemplary job.”

“You are a better liar than him,” she said, which made everyone laugh except Edmund.

“What is your name?” Edmund asked as the young woman amused him, he lifted one brow peering at her. She was pleasant to look upon under that blunt sarcasm he thought.

“Bethally,” she said. “Does your brother live here?”

“Well, I hope when they release him, that he will consider it. I am trying to soften the captain into freeing him, but it has been a hard sell,” Edmund said, feigning confidence. He could see she was infatuated with his brother. “He will frequent here no matter where he lives.”

“You talk with too many words, but I will accept the position if you will have me,” she said as Edmund nodded and stood on his chair to announce while they all looked upon him with an odd gape, thinking his behavior was a bit over the top.

“We will conduct a short celebration during the sunset. We invited people of importance, then the tavern opens tonight for everybody else,” Edmund said aloud to get everyone’s attention. “I hope none of you object to that.”

He heard not one complaint as the women laughed at his behavior, making him feel embarrassed. They quickly left them behind to get their things from their previous dwellings. Julius looked most pleased that Edmund hired them all, but his confidence was still low at the moment.

“That inquiry went well. You did a good job, Julius, we will make a lot of money,” Edmund bragged.

“You are getting the cart before the horse, Edmund,” Julius said, pulling his point. “Unless you know how to cook. Look, I believe you when you say the ale will stun them into opening their purses, but we possess a kitchen and no one is qualified to use it. Folks like food with their ale.”

“Bring me Darsow, please,” Edmund yelled out to one of the brutes.

“At once, Lord Edmund,” Hackles replied in a cough while rushing to the stores.

“You appear pleased with this Lord Edmund,” Julius said, being facetious.

“He desires to be addressed as Lord Julius, Sir Blunt,” Edmund said to the remaining brute, who stared at Julius and laughed.

“At once,” he bowed, moving alongside them as they waited.

Hackles returned with Darsow, who was grinning from ear to ear. “I know what you are asking for; I got the lads bringing the kegs in now.”

“That is wonderful news,” Edmund said. “You are moving things to Liston, as I suggested. I will need another shipment when the new moon turns. That is when your payment shifts to my responsibility, and I will have your gold when you arrive.”

“Your place is marvelous. I am beyond words, and when Etric hears about this…” the captain said as his lads brought in five barrels on a cart.

“Let’s keep that to ourselves. I would rather that old man concentrate on making ale and sending it to you,” Edmund said as the lads placed the kegs in front of their table.

“Of course, and I will just keep bringing them when you needed.” Darsow grinned, then barked orders to his men. “Lads, loosen the rings from the edges.”

“What are they doing, Edmund? It will spill out on the floor,” Julius said with a confused stare.

The lads knocked off the top ring and the barrel split into pieces as five small, pale men flopped to the floor in a heap.

“Did you have to do that, man?” Morst berated Darsow as the others cursed in the Loreton language.

“What the bloody bollocks is this?” Julius asked in shock.

“What are they?” Blunt said as Hackles coughed.

“They are our cooks, and they will run our kitchens,” Edmund said with a nonchalant expression while their new hosts were talking aloud, confused in their Loreton tongue.

“The old man was serious?” Morst said, shaking his head. “We are under your arrest?”

“Well, he had young lads like you causing mischief, causing unrest amongst his people. I offered him a solution to help him get his village back in order. He has handed me five of his biggest problems, and I made sure you were requested.”

“You will be my translator and head of my kitchens,” Edmund said as Morst was rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “Welcome to Breeston, home of the Grand Guild. The jewel city in all the Triad. I am Edmund Parsons, and this man is Julius Timmons; he is my partner and your gaoler in this venture.”

“I don’t know about this one, Edmund,” his partner replied.

“Nonsense, Julius, these lads have skills no one in Breeston has. Please, have one of the lads find us an innkeeper desperate enough to send us a kettle full of the best he can spare, and don’t forget barley bread. It is near midday, and I am famished. I am sure our new friends are hungry after their long journey.”

“I shall do that,” Julius said with a grin. “This will make for a good jape.”

“So, Morst, tell us how your trip was,” Edmund asked.

“In fetters, until we got stuffed in the damn barrel,” Morst said, wearing a frown.

“You made such an impression on me during our conversation as you were bent over in those stocks. I knew then, you would be perfect for our kitchens, and I have good news: you can join us in horns every evening. It’s a tradition here. We drink every day in Breeston, so you have no reason to watch the moon anymore,” Edmund informed him.

“Is he a Nuhrish dwarf?” Hackles asked. “What is that queer tongue they are using?”

“They are, Hackles, and they are phenomenal folk. The tongue is an eastern slang from the motherland, and I am not privy to it,” Edmund lied to the pair.

“This job just keeps getting better and better,” Hackles murmured in astonishment.

“Nuhrish dwarfs, seriously?” Morst said as the other Loretons looked terrified.

“It will be best, for now, I’m sure you don’t need an explanation why. I know it seems unfair, Morst, but I assure you it will get friendlier here. This place is drab, but it has a way of growing on you. Now tell me, how long is your exile?”

“This is madness. The elders gave us two years.”

“You must have gotten under Etric’s skin. If you cooperate, then I will send word back to him of your good behavior. He may cut your sentence shorter,” Edmund said to reassure him.

“The stew is on its way. I hope you are in the mood for leavings, as the Swallow is sending its best,” Julius interrupted.

“A fine choice; my mouth is watering,” Edmund said. “Let’s get the tables together and dine like a family.”

Hackles and Blunt sprang into action, setting the tables in rows while Julius summoned everyone, even the carpenters, who put the Loretons in discomfort, staring at them baffled as they whispered amongst themselves.

A chubby, stuttering man arrived, bearing Julius compliments while his lads brought in the stew and a basketful of barley bread.

“I think we should have a few horns,” Edmund announced as he handed the chubby man the silver owed to him. “I think it is past time we crack open one of these kegs.” He motioned to Blunt to comply.

“You diluted it with water, I hope,” Morst muttered.

“I’m glad you reminded me, Morst, I see Etric filled you in on his brew before you left. You hear, Julius? We can water down the brew and make two and one-half barrels out of one,” Edmund said with a smile.

“I will be the judge of that,” Julius said. “It is madness to water down ale.”

Edmund prayed silently, lacking concern while others watched him. He could hear the slurping and the spoons scraping against bowls amongst the small crowd. Julius thanked the chubby cook, laughing as he and his lads rolled the kettle back on a cart and out the door. He thanked the mother for her grace as he reached for a horn.

“How is it, Morst?” Edmund asked, smiling at him.

“I can’t eat this rubbish,” he said as his brethren had only suffered a spoonful.

“This ale is unbelievable, Lord Edmund,” Hackles said as the carpenters swallowed a horn in seconds.

Edmund nibbled on a heel of bread and swallowed several spoonfuls while looking at the pack, seeing if any had enough hunger in their bellies to continue. They even turned their nose up at the bread.

“I want to bury my head in that barrel,” Blunt declared as Edmund ignored the others and focused on Morst.

“Morst, I have a problem, and I know I am asking a huge favor from you. Can you duplicate this? I need to serve hundreds of guests tonight.” Edmund says with a merchant’s smile.

“Breeston people are stew eaters. We dine on trenchers and are a picky lot. I need to write to Etric, saying something positive, so he can feel proud that he sent the right men to us.”

“What if we refuse, Edmund?” Morst then asked. “What could you possibly do to us — send us back?”

“Why, nothing, since you mentioned it, except throw you out in the street and let the wolves out there dine on you,” Edmund said sternly.

“But, If you stay here, you will have a bed. You can eat all you like in the kitchens, and indulge in horns with us after we close the tavern every day.” He looked at Morst who seemed to fancy that part of the terms.

“You can flirt with the women, and fornicate all you want if you can find one that fancies you. I’m sure you won’t have troubles with that, as you are a good-looking lad.”

“You flatter him, Lord Edmund,” Blunt interrupted. “He looks like he could glow in the dark if someone snuffed the candles.”

“That he may,” Edmund remarks as Morst looks up at the brute with a bitter glare. “Oh, and one more thing, Morst. You and your mates will get one day to walk around the city every fortnight, escorted of course, in both our interests. Once you familiarize yourself with this place, we can then negotiate better terms.”

“What do you want me to say?” Morst asked, defeated. “We are boxed in until we figure out, just where the bollocks we are!

“Can you duplicate that stew? Bake that bread? The kitchens are large, but we have the stores filled.” Edmund asked ignoring his complaint.

“Can you get these lads of yours to understand this as a stroke of fortune? They are your responsibility until they learn our language. I even have a little something of your homeland in a barrel by the ovens.” Edmund then asked again, “Can you duplicate that stew?”

“It would insult me to serve that,” Morst said. “These lads are more than capable, I am sure we can do much better, but telling them how their luck just changed for the better. I beg to differ.”

“Will you serve me and let me guide you here, or should I throw you all out into a foreign place and let you live from hand to mouth?” Edmund said and rose in his chair to stare down upon them. “In time, we will become mates.”

“I am your man, I guess.” Morst nodded, his face a look of a man just gelded. He then spoke in the Loreton tongue as the others looked at him and then Edmund. His tall, lean frame loomed over them like a scarecrow, as they looked at him, bewildered, then replied in nods and sour looks.

“We will talk in a few hours. You lads get accustomed to the kitchens, prepare for what you have in mind, and don’t forget to call me so I can inspect your labors. I am sure you will not disappoint,” he said while walking over to Morst, patting him along the back for encouragement.

“It is your kitchen now; you got a taste of what we Breestoners suffer with. Prepare for fifty guests now, and keep in mind, we may be fortunate to serve more than a hundred. It has to be something you can create in a pinch if we get overwhelmed.”

“Oh, we need bread, and I have wheat and barley. We lack butter now, but I will correct that in days. I suggest you boys have a few horns to celebrate your arrival and then get started.”

Edmund walked away with Julius behind him. He could hear Julius scurry beside him to hash out his concerns. “I can feel you, Julius. What is wrong?” he inquired.

“That was harsh, Edmund. This decision makes me uneasy, holding these men against their wills. We never discussed this.”

“I did not and I apologize, these arrangements were made while you were ill in Loreto, and I never mentioned it, afraid you’d disagree with me.” He replies nonchalantly as Julius scowls.

“Think about this, friend Julius. This will be to our advantage, their skills, and the ale. It will be what separates us from the others.”

“We are not wardens, Edmund. They should come and go as they please.”

“And they will, I promise. Yes, I was cold back there, but if I don’t spank his nose now, he will test me every day.” His tone is met with protest as he tries to explain. “It is best that Morst remains scared to nearly soiling his linens in a foreign city, not as pleasant as he imagined.”

“He is burdened with the responsibility of his kinsmen, but he will find his stay pleasant over time, and when his exile is over, he can either go back home or be a Breestoner if he chooses. It will be his choice.”

“It still doesn’t sit well with me, Edmund,” his friend answered.

Edmund stopped so they could face one another. “When I first met him, he was in the stocks, spending half his time shackled and then the other half doing things to end up back in them.”

“He now has this huge place to wander in, with pretty girls to look upon and all the food he can eat,” Edmund says with a shrug.

“You heard me back there. The things that got him in trouble back home, he is free to do here, with some rules thrown in, but I feel like we are doing him a favor.”

“I am not scolding you. I see your business brilliance, but this is a matter of our partnership. You should have told me about this.”

“You were in poor shape then, Julius,” Edmund reminded him. He saw the look of concern on his best friend and then softened. “You are right, friend Julius. I had days to tell you of this arrangement and I withheld it, fearing that you would misunderstand and protest me. I saw the potential and bit on it like a—”

“Don’t say rabid dog,” Julius replied.

Edmund smiled and found himself a little ecstatic about the upcoming evening. “I need to get a hold of myself, don’t I? Harwin always tries to kick me down when I get like this.” Edmund looked at Julius, who still looked flustered.

“You remember when you were telling me off in the streets out there? When I tried to bribe you into leaving the Frookuh? There may be a time when you need to do that again. Get me in line before I bollock things up.”

“You need to bathe, relax, and get your fancy lord’s attire on. Prove that I am wrong and that you are not crazy. Prove that you have not made a fool of me for putting all my falcons into an old whorehouse.” Julius then sighed, letting out a deep breath. His nerves were on edge.

“We need to impress tonight. If this becomes bollocks, we will be the talk of the wards tomorrow. Not the good talk — we will be a jape,” Julius said with a straight face that was laced with deep worry.

“I will have a few horns and wait for the girls. I will get them prepared for you, and we will both inspect the kitchens to see if what you are scheming will make me feel more confident.”

“Thank you, Julius. You are the dearest friend I have.”

“I would take that as flattery, but you don’t have friends, Edmund.”

His partner walked away, still miffed, and had the lads stoke the coals to send hot water to his tub. He had put many falcons in the lift system, a contraption he watched in amazement back in Lonoke.

He had the carpenters build a flume behind the kitchens, then had a brazier built underneath it, with pulleys through the flume to hoist buckets to the upper floors as the large tub of water remained heated by the brazier below.

Edmund had assigned Dudley to turn the cranks of the winch nearby, sending the buckets on a chain and up the shaft so the lads could empty the scalding water into other buckets and take them to the rooms. He had seen how well it worked at the Sultry Madame, so before they departed, he found a man to detail it on parchment.

His new quarters were large, bigger than his quarters back in Hayston, as Julius had the room adjoining him. He had it furnished with good walnut, imported from Lonoke, and his mattress was full of goose down. Edmund felt relaxed as he soaked in his tub, admiring what he had accomplished.

He had twin armoires crafted in cherry and mahogany, so his leathers and weapons had a place with his fine tunics and cloaks. It was a job that Thad Griffin assisted him in by sending word to Meriweather, to find a craftsman to build them, paying many falcons for the furnishings and feeling happy with what it bought.

Edmund was his own man now, and he planned on putting quarters together for his brother next week if this evening went well. He had so many plans that he was drunk on them while he dressed in a soft blue doublet, over black breeches, then wrapped himself in a short blue scarf to add girth to his shoulders.

He had his hair in a tight braid with a white ribbon keeping it held, strolling down into the lobby of the inn as the new tavern maids surrounded Julius.

The women fixed their eyes upon him and Lucy smiled immediately. He could hear them whisper, giggling even, as Julius barked at them to focus on what he wanted. The aroma had filled the lobby and Edmund smiled as the smell of hot bread filled his nostrils.

“You look like one of those peacocks from the Guild,” Hackles said, amazed. “I have to thank Julius proper for dragging me down here.”

“Hackles, if you make it here a month, then I will outfit you like a proper Old Street man. Put you in new wools and leathers,” Edmund said. “Does that inspire you? Lucy over there is a wonderful seamstress.”

“She also has a wonderful set of curves,” Hackles coughed out.

“Let’s work on our candor tonight. You will meet with Julius, and he will tell you how to be proper with the ladies.” Edmund says with a stern look and a pat on his back.

“Be sure no harm comes to them. I don’t want a bunch of wandering hands all over them like they are prostitutes. I am sure you know how to take a man out back and readjust his manners.”

“You better believe it!” Blunt answered him.

“Good, then I will leave you to your stations,” Edmund said while dismissing himself to the kitchens.

“The smell will infatuate them, Morst,” Edmund complimented him when he stepped through the threshold. “I see you have a nice kettle going, and the herbs you found, I noticed,” he says while breathing deep in grand arrogance as the goons watch him in amusement.

“A few nice skewers basting for some wanting more than what coppers will buy them — a good decision there, my friend. You have the capons on a spit.” his words honeyed to inspire Morst from his temporary melancholy.

“The silver will jump from their purses when they see one of those. These wonderful smells will bring them in as if something summoned them.”

“I can put together something quick if we run low. The fellows made a large batch of biscuits along with barley bread.” The Loreton says modestly.

“The lads are coming around after a full belly and a few horns. We got four kegs mixed and tapped, and I hope I haven’t overestimated,” Morst told him, wearing a frustrated frown.

“You have inspired me, Morst,” Edmund said. “I hope we become good friends.” He could feel the Loreton’s sneer searing through his backside as he perused the kitchens, sampling a little of what the lads had put together.

The herbs Etric smuggled in the tobacco kegs enhanced the meat beyond anything in the wards. It wasn’t what he remembered from Loreto, but it wasn’t a long stretch off of his Hayston meals as he placed the bowls and little mugs along the long serving tables.

“They are for the dwarfs?” Blunt said, confused, when he summoned the brute to help him. “I have never seen such small bowls.”

“It’s a little feather to annoy them. I plan on them staying afterward when the tavern opens for business and paying with their own coin. I will not feed those snobs honestly.”

Blunt laughed aloud, a booming laugh as Hackles coughed. “Like a seasoned prostitute, show the man a bit of skin to get him to stiffen, then make him pay in silver to have a gander under the linens.”

“That is a good way of looking at it, Sir Blunt.”

Julius was getting ready while he greeted their guests as the tavern filled. He had counted over thirty of the ones he had invited in the past few days. He was surprised by such a turnout while being assaulted in handshakes from curious men who had concluded that he was the biggest fool in Breeston.

“Tell Morst, the crowd may be large,” Edmund blurted out to Lucy as he scanned the mob of faces coming his way.

Verigen had arrived with Wiltford in tow, in cashmere wears of rich purple, making Wiltford look the pauper. “Master Edmund, I do not know what to say. I will admit, we were skeptical when you discussed this venture, but you may have the last laugh.”

“I believe you may be the only one here that believes that,” Edmund replied while shaking his hand. Even the chubby Wiltford spilled kind words to him, but he knew they had high hopes of him falling on his face in ruin.

“We are from Raines, where it is common for outlandish dreams to bring fruit. Are you sure you have not visited our city?” the scribe asked, trying to compliment him.

“I have hopes one day. Tell Satlor Raines about the next best thing in Breeston,” Edmund responded, gloating, to stick in their craw.

“It is funny you say that, Master Edmund,” Verigen said. “He is coming to Breeston to meet with the Guild.” The thought made Edmund smile, the reputation was admired by him even though the tales his uncle said about them were scandalous.

“That will make waves throughout the Triad,” Edmund said as Comer Wilkins approached, asking for a word and trying to pull him aside.

“You should avoid that greasy scoundrel; he can slide under the crack of a door,” Wilkins said in a scoff. “You have an interesting place here. There is a secret about this place I want you to be aware of,” Comer mentioned while glaring around, lowering his voice in a whisper. “One day, I will come by to show it to you. Now is not the time. It could open huge opportunities for us.”

“Edmund, don’t let that man darken your purity,” Thad Griffin blurts aloud, coming from behind them unawares, frightening the merchant while dismissing him with a flick of the hand, leading Edmund in another direction as most had taken their seats.

“Always be honest with your ward boss. I know I handed you that man, but he will leave you twisting in the wind for a few silvers. Always come to me if you feel something is amiss.”

“You are a man of integrity,” Edmund said as Julius returned, dressed in a black doublet and hair glistening thick in wax. “Rescue me from these jackals,” he whispered to his friend while he signaled to the servers for the celebrations to begin.

He pointed Thad to the seat beside his as Edmund took his place with Julius standing alongside him as the little bowls and cups made their way out, with little pieces of barley bread that were the size of a mouthful followed by sweet apples baked into a little Loreton biscuit.

“Thank you, honored lords, of the wards. I am beyond words that you have attended our send-off into a hopeful, fruitful, and prosperous business,” he said amongst the tables so all could see him.

“We have heard the quips about the two fools that have bought the Old Velvet Doveling and turned it into an inn. I know what you are thinking, coming here to see how the folly is going.”

“We wish you well,” a man from the back said. A chorus of laughs followed as Edmund laughed with them like it was a good jape.

“The tavern will remain open after our brief introduction, and we welcome you to stay and dine with us. I thank all for the good wishes, even more, thankful if you brought coin along with you,” Julius bellowed out as the patrons snickered at him.

“We see the slap, but where is the tickle?” one groaned out.

“Bollocks, we are men, not a bunch of sparrows,” another one complained after sampling the small stew.

Dudley propped the door open as the smells roamed out into the walk beyond. The commoners were in groups amongst the cobbles, their interest piqued due to all the guests Edmund had invited inside, wearing their finest doublets that had caused a scene.

He had promised the important people in the inner wards a free meal to get them there; he never disclosed that his promise was only a morsel to nibble on. Edmund needed them there for the extravagance. The attention it would gather would get the commoners there, the real patrons. He didn’t give a bloody hoot about any of the ones he invited.

“Thank you, and the tavern is now open, gentleman,” Edmund yelled aloud as horns were being poured while the tavern girls mingled and took requests. The outside mob ran in quickly, filling every empty chair and stool they had.

Many of the guests left, as it miffed most, but a few stayed out of curiosity and sat amongst the commoners as Julius stood on an empty crate to sing a bawdy song.

The crowd went up in song to “A Time or Two with the Fiddler’s Wife” as they dined, lingering for several horns as the traffic from the cobbles provided a steady stream of patrons that didn’t ebb until the sand of Edmund’s hourglass was half in its fourth turn.

The last remaining left during the seventh turn, and he then signaled to Julius to have Dudley close the tavern doors. Edmund inventoried the kitchens; they had nearly drained five kegs of Loreton ale and had nearly eaten through all that Morst and his exhausted mates had provided.

Morst was wiping his brow with linen. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he muttered, looking for a washed horn.

“I will help you plan better,” Edmund said, patting his back and complimenting him for his efforts. “You lads drink two more horns and I will talk with you later.”

It was late when they gathered for a meal. The group that was tossed together in mere hours was tired but excited; they had never encountered such a thing, and neither had Edmund as he sipped ale.

“Well, at this hour, you usually are fighting with drunkards,” Hackles remarked while eating from his wooden bowl. Morst had fried up potatoes with back bacon that he engulfed while sipping on a horn.

“I only had to swat a few hands. A tame crowd,” Blunt mentioned.

“Are you disappointed?” Edmund asked. “I think your cudgel will be needed soon. I have aggravated many of the ones I invited. They were looking for handouts or underhanded deals and left empty-handed.” he remarks while thinking to himself for a few moments.

“They will send men to upset our business. Be aware of that and alert me or Julius so it can be dealt with.”

“I look forward to it,” Blunt replied, smiling very deviously.

The Loretons had another horn, then stumbled to their quarters. Edmund almost hated to wake Morst up an hour before dawn tomorrow, but he had a plan to make more coin that morning out near the docks.

The women were exhausted as well while they ate a quick bite of what Morst could scramble up as they counted what coppers they got from the commoners.

Julius was acting the fool with the twins, escorting them to their rooms only to return, shaking his head in failure, then he went below to collect the coins dropped in the floor’s strongbox.

He had Dudley bring back the sack that was lining its bottom, and it appeared heavy when he met Edmund in a locked room they had built for counting.

“That is a lot of copper, we even scored a good bit of silver from the capons the richer merchants bought,” Julius remarked, looking inside while they were alone, sipping on a horn and elated how the evening unfolded.

He watched his partner count, looking up with an ecstatic smile, separating the oaks from the copper crowns.

“A good beginning,” Edmund said. “We will change half the coppers into silver oaks tomorrow at the bank. I’ll send word and have Verigen appoint us one of his couriers.”

“We need a name for this place, Edmund.”

“I would rather we don’t. Let the folks here do that for us. It could be a good jape on what they can come up with,” Edmund said as the effects of the ale made him smile.