All that Glitters (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 1) (16 page)

Stavin unclenched his fist and looked at the coins. "Where is the pouch, Sir? I'd better put these away."

"You will put those in your own pouch, Stavin. That is not part of the company's wages. Every bit of that is yours."

"Mine?" Stavin asked in a stunned whisper. "It's fifty silver crowns! That's ten times my rightful—"

"It is exactly your rightful share, Stavin," Barvil interrupted. "
That
is something you earned on your own. It's like a bonus from an employer or war-booty. You, and you alone, earned those coins."

"But, Sir, it's—"

"Stavin!" Barvil snapped and Stavin's mouth snapped shut. "This season is just beginning. You may be glad to have that silver and gold long before you get home and give it to your
wife
."

Stavin didn't say anything else. Barvil was, as usual, right. He got out the pouch that held a few of his childhood treasures and carefully poured the coins in it. He paused, then pulled a silver crown back out and held it up. "For Kar."

Barvil laughed and led off again. They reached the Common's gate and kicked their horses into a gallop to catch up with the caravan.

H
ARVAR
F
EL'
L
OVAL SAT IN THE BAR
of the Master's Hall of the Traders Guild and fumed in impotent rage. That slut from Kavadia had cheated him. She'd hired Friend Stavin right out from under him, and with Elain backing her there was nothing he could do about it. Then, to make matters worse, she had sent the boy and his commander back when Magistrate Zel'Korval had fallen for the plan that he and Eldan had come up with. They'd turned it around on them, costing him an additional five gold crowns.

Harvar was an angry drunk when he made his way unsteadily out to the caravansary. He was going to have to hire regular mercenaries to guard his caravan, and they were going to be just as unreasonable about it as that valley bastard had been. "The bastard," he swore softly.

"You weren't to speaking to me, I hope," a man to his left said and Harvar turned to find himself facing four men in the uniform of the Kel'Portan Guards.

"No," Harvar snapped. "Valley bastard cheated me. Kavadian slut cheated me. I wish I could kill them all."

"What would the job pay?" one of the other mercenaries asked.

Harvar was sobering up a little as the adrenaline from his anger rushed through his veins. "I'd pay ten gold for the boy dead— but I'd pay twenty for him alive. As for the Kavadian slut, I'd pay five gold for her head."

"Perhaps we can do business," the leader of the mercenaries said with a grin.

* * *

That night, after they had eaten, Stavin approached Karvik. "Kar, our bet was for a silver crown to the one of us who made his first kill first." He held up his hand and displayed a silver crown. "You won that bet, and I am paying it now, as agreed, with the first silver crown I could get."

Karvik stared at Stavin for a moment, then took the coin. "Where did you get a crown, Stave?"

"From those traders. The magistrate fined them for insulting and trying to cheat me, and then fined them again for wasting his time."

Barvil interrupted before Stavin could tell the whole story. "Guards, begin your rounds. I'll be taking Kahndar's place tonight, and Stavin and I will go last. Stavin, come over here for a moment."

Stavin walked over to Barvil as Davel and Karvik headed out to the edge of the camp. "Stavin," Barvil whispered, "don't tell everybody how much you have in your pouch. Kar and I are honor-bound to keep your secrets and I trust our men, but I don't fully trust all of the traders. If they find out how much is in that pouch, that pouch won't be yours very long."

Stavin remained very still for a moment or two, then nodded. "I hadn't thought of that, Sir."

Barvil patted him on the shoulder. "These are the lowlands, Stavin. The rules are different here. Don’t write about it either. Yes, I’ve seen you writing letters. There is no guarantee of privacy with letters. Go ahead and tell Kar, you will eventually anyway, but tell him what I told you. Now get some sleep. We'll be up well before dawn and I want you alert."

Stavin said, "Yes, Sir," more from reflex than because he was agreeing with Barvil. He walked to his tent in silence and lay down. He was still staring at the fabric above him when Karvik came in from patrol.

"Kar, I have something to tell you, but I want you to keep it secret."

"You know you can trust me, Stave."

"Yes, I know I can trust you." He went on to tell Karvik the whole story and what Barvil had warned him about.

"Fifty?"
Karvik asked in a stunned whisper.

"Fifty," Stavin agreed. "Two gold and thirty silver crowns. Twenty-nine now."

"Stave, with that you could—you could buy—I don't know, but it'd be big."

Stavin chuckled. "I was thinking of the future. The gold is Shari's, for the house account. That leaves me with twenty-nine silver crowns. I'll have to see what's available, but I don't want anything frivolous. I want to make every spark of it count." He was interrupted by a huge yawn. "Good night, Kar. I'll try not to wake you when your dad comes for me."

"No chance of that, but thanks for the thought."

Stavin's sleep was troubled by dreams of someone trying to rob him, and he woke up with a start when he heard a noise. He strained his ears and heard Ivalin's voice say, "Sir, it's time," and Barvil's grunt of assent. He quickly wriggled out of his bedroll so Ivalin wouldn't wake up Karvik. Ivalin passed by with a nod and went back out to the perimeter.

Stavin had everything but his breast and back plates on when Barvil arrived just moments later. Barvil carried his plate armor as well and waved Stavin over to the fire. "Over here," he whispered. Stavin joined him and dropped his armor to help Barvil buckle in. Then Barvil helped him and they were quickly ready. They used the privy on the way out to the edge of camp and met Cordon and Ivalin as they came around.

"Nothing much to report, Sir. Two riders passed by in the night, but didn't stop," Cordon said as he faced Barvil.

Barvil said, "We relieve you. Get some sleep if you can." He watched as the two young men walked away, then directed Stavin to the left. They made half a circuit of the camp in silence, then Barvil spoke quietly.

"Madam Elain warned me that we're likely to have trouble because of those traders. What happened when we were leaving might have been all of it, but it might not. Stay on your toes and keep your eyes open. If something is going to happen, I'd expect it after the moons set."

Stavin said, "Yes, Sir," and started carefully examining every shadow as they passed.

The night wore on and Stavin began to relax as nothing happened. It was boring to walk around the camp over and over again, and he couldn't help yawning. After his second yawn he looked at Barvil and said, "My apologies, Sir. I—"

Barvil's sword hissed as he drew it and he turned to face an enemy. It was only his years under the Warmaster's tutelage that had Stavin ready for the attack.

Four shadows separated from the darkness beyond the camp and ran toward them in silence. Stavin brought his Dragon's Tongue up across his chest and stepped to the side as three of the attackers headed for him while the fourth moved to keep Barvil busy.

Stavin was ready this time and attacked when his opponents were still several steps away. He moved forward and went low, using his short stature to his advantage, and took the leg off his right-hand opponent as he slid between them, just as he'd slipped between Harner and his friends dozens of times in the past. The man to Stavin's left brought his sword down quickly in a following blow that slid harmlessly off Stavin's back plate while the one-legged man shrieked in agony, shattering the silence that they had so far maintained.

Stavin didn't stop moving and attacked his two able opponents before they could turn to face him. The incredibly sharp point of his Dragon's Tongue swung across the back of the man who'd struck him, severing his spine near the bottom. The third man spun around and brought his sword up, but Stavin attacked once again. His Dragon's Tongue snaked out like its namesake and slid though iron mail into the man's throat, then took his head half off when he spun away from the strike.

Barvil killed his opponent quickly and came to Stavin's side. "Watch for more. Don't let these distract you."

The man with the missing leg finally went silent as blood-loss took his life. The sudden silence was punctuated by the panting of the man with the severed spine.

There was a roar building from within the camp as people responded to the screaming. Men with torches and weapons in their hands came running to see what the trouble was, forming a circle around Barvil and Stavin and their attackers.

Barvil looked down at the paralyzed man and asked, "What were you after?"

The man looked at Stavin and gasped, "Him," through gritted teeth.

Barvil looked at Stavin for a moment, then back at the dying man. "Who sent you?"

"Master Trader Fel'Loval. He wanted the boy alive if he could have him, dead if he couldn't. Mercy, warrior to warrior. Kill me. Please."

Barvil raised his sword, then stopped and stepped back. "Stavin, you started this; it's your duty to finish it."

Stavin stepped forward and looked down at the man he had crippled. "Mercy is yours," he whispered, then flicked the point of his Dragon's Tongue across the man's throat, beheading him. As the man's blood pumped out of his neck, Stavin's stomach rebelled and he turned away to vomit.

Barvil nodded in satisfaction and looked around at his men. "Dav, Kahn, search the bodies and collect their gear. Cordan, Lavin, they came out of those bushes. Take some torches and look for anything they might have left behind."

T
RADER
S
AHREN WALKED UP AND LOOKED
at the bodies as the warriors moved to follow Barvil's instructions. "Elain's warnings seem to have been accurate, as always." She put a hand on Stavin's shoulder and turned him to face the interior of the camp. She glanced back at the dead men and then at her people. "Bury those in the privy pits. I want every wagon ready to roll before we eat." She continued on with Stavin under her grip, and Barvil looked at his men.

"Strike the tents and stow our gear." He paused as Davel and Kahndar stood ready. "Stavin got those three. See that their gear is separated for him." He shook his head in amazement. "I've fought him, but I didn't realize how fast he is or how sharp those points are."

Karvik cleared his throat to get his father's attention. "The Warmaster wouldn't start him on sword because of his size. Stave has two more years exclusively with the Dragon's Tongue than the rest of us."

Barvil shook his head and led the way back into the camp while eight of the traders saw to the bodies. He found Stavin sitting next to Sahren, clutching a cup of kava.

"He's all right," Sahren said as they took seats around the fire.

"We're a resilient breed. Eat lightly, Stavin. You'll be feeling the after-effects of that fight for a while. We'll see to your stripes tonight when we stop."

Stavin's head snapped up at the mention of his stripes. "Three to start!" he said with a shaky grin. "How often does that happen?"

"Not often. Hopefully it'll be the last time for a while." Barvil sat and accepted a cup of kava. "You're fortune is growing. You can claim the gear of the three you killed, including whatever Cordon and Lavin come back with. The Council will buy it from you, of course, or you can let the traders deal with it for you."

Trader Sahren patted his knee. "We'll be making several stops where their gear can be sold. Personally, I'll be happier when it's gone."

Breakfast was being served when Cordon and Lavin returned leading five horses. "They really did mean to take you alive, Stave," Lavin said as he accepted a plate.

Cordon continued their report to let Lavin swallow a few bites. "One of the horses only had a saddle. The others had full kits."

"This was in one of the saddle bags, Sir," Lavin said, tossing a pouch to Barvil.

Barvil opened the bag and poured a handful of coins out on the bench next to him. He sorted the coins into gold, silver and copper with one finger, then counted. "Eight gold, twenty-five silver and twenty-seven sparks. Call it one hundred and seven silver crowns, three-quarters to Stavin. That'll be a bit over eighty silver." He counted out seven gold coins, nine silver, and ten copper sparks. "The rest is my share." He pulled a bag from around his neck and put the coins in it, leaving Stavin's coins on the bench. He then put Stavin's coins back in the original bag and tossed it to him. "We'll divide up the rest when we sell their horses and gear. Now let's get in the saddle. We'll do a quick sweep of the area and join the traders on the road."

All of the warriors moved to obey Barvil, but he held his hand out to Cordon and Lavin. "Finish eating, then take positions by the first and last wagons. We'll spread out once the rest of us rejoin the caravan." He walked away as the two young men sat down to continue their meal.

Barvil joined the rest of his men and mounted his horse. "I want a skirmish line, no more than a horse-length between you. Watch the ground closely on both sides of your horses. We're looking for anything that is out of the ordinary. Any sign that those four were not alone."

He led his men back toward Twin Bridges on the west side of the road until they reached a stream, then they crossed the road and came back up the east side until they caught up with the caravan. They found nothing but trash.

* * *

The caravan had stopped for the night and the evening meal had already been served when Barvil stood and smiled at his men. "Stand up, Stavin," he commanded, and Stavin scrambled to his feet.

"Stavin Kel'Aniston, on this, your first expedition to the lowlands, you have made your first three kills. You killed your first man by cutting off his leg with your Dragon's Tongue and leaving him to bleed to death. You killed your second man by driving the point of your Dragon's Tongue into his neck and nearly beheading him when he turned away. You killed your third man by administering a mercy stroke after you severed his lower spine with your Dragon's Tongue. According to the customs handed down from our ancestors, you may now paint three white chevrons on the left shoulder of your armor." Barvil paused to smile. "I think Kar has the paint ready for you."