A few twists later, the dusty mountain road made way for Siembra's cobbles. Right there on the outskirts, squeezed between a butcher's shop and a scribe's office, stood a neat building notable for its two wide forward-facing display windows. Marco's Potions read the simple sign above the building's sturdy door. On the ground underneath it, Gaius saw a very much Slavian-looking plaque that read Vasily's Emporium in gold cursive letters.

  "This is you, Guy," Esven said and jumped off the caravan.

  The street was completely empty and even the nearby storefronts looked abandoned. Siembra's citizens apparently used alef night as an excuse to stay inside.

  Esven ruffled the mane on one of the horses. "I think old Marco had a stable out back. These champions deserve a good home."

  With that out of the way, he looked around. "There's a great tavern down the street. And since my official business brought me here anyway, I may as well go inspect it."

  Gaius knew exactly what sort of inspection Esven had in mind. He nodded and said, "Take care, captain. Don't inspect too hard. You're letting me into Mystlund tomorrow, remember?"

  "Sure, sure." Esven spun around and started for the tavern when he spotted a trio of disheveled Caladonians walk out from behind the store. All three were armed with what could easily be explained as simple carpentry tools.

  In a blink of an eye, his laid-back demeanor evaporated. "What are you lot doing here?" he hissed.

  The ruffians exchanged a series of quick glances, then, without saying a word continued walking right past the waist-high fence encircling the store.

  Esven moved in to intercept, only to be unceremoniously shoved aside.

  "Watch where you're stepping, you blighted dogs," he screamed out. "You want me to arrest your three for assaulting a constable?"

  Gaius expected the men to say their sorrys and scatter. Instead, their leader, distinguished by the kettle-looking hat he was wearing, brandished his hammer and said, "I'd like to see you try, you puffed up windbag."

  Esven left his arbalest back in the guardhouse, and it looked like he was only now realizing this. In a burst of improvisation, he grabbed a fiery orange vial off his belt and raised it over his head. "Go ahead, swing that thing, Alejo, see where it lands you."

  The one called Alejo gestured to his men to stand down and lowered his hammer. "You wouldn't dare, captain." That last word was clearly meant as an insult. "Sometimes I wonder where you found the guts to bump off your old pal Lucius to get your promotion."

  "Keep talking about guts and I'll show you yours," Esven spat out.

  Gaius considered staying out of this, but then he figured that a merchant in this situation wouldn't be able to keep himself from saying something. "Excuse me? What exactly is going on here?"

  Alejo and his men finally took notice of Gaius. "You must be the new merchant."

  "And you are?" Gaius asked, slowly.

  "Why, we are your day laborers. Working on the renovations you requested. A big, hard job."

  While Alejo was talking, it dawned on Gaius that Caladonians had a distinct way of speaking to foreigners. It was slower and more deliberate. But when talking among themselves, their words came out in short explosive bursts.

  As if just to prove Gaius right, Esven took a step forward and barked in a single breath, "Mallia's tits, you blighters haven't worked an honest day in your life. Why isn't the new sign up yet?"

  "We'll get to it," Alejo said. Then he sized Gaius up and down and added, "There's still the matter of compensation. You owe us some money, merchant."

  Gaius knew better than to show any weakness with the types of Alejo. "And why should I pay you for an unfinished job?"

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  The Caladonian walked up to the sign, almost brushing past Esven as he moved. "Marco here was a good friend," he said. "And if you want to make any friends in this dangerous town, you shouldn't be asking too many questions."

  Being able to spot a two-bit thug putting on airs was a crucial skill for someone in Gaius' line of work. "I don't know how you do business here," he said and jumped off the caravan. When he touched the ground, he was holding his axe for everyone to see. "But in Mystlund, we don't like wasting our money on unnecessary friends." He walked up to Esven and, standing side by side with the captain, produced a floating orb of flame in his free hand. "How about we make this here misunderstanding a bit more fair?"

  Alejo stood his ground, but the other guys backed off a few steps. With a scowl sticking from under his hat, Alejo said, "We'll be seeing you, merchant."

  Without a warning, Gaius flung the orb at Alejo, only for it to dissipate right as it was about to engulf him. The illusion was simple but quite believable. Alejo flinched and Gaius caught that.

  "You show your flea-riddled ass here again, and the next one will be the real deal. Got it?"

  Alejo's fingers performed a shaving motion underneath his chin. Gaius could only assume it was supposed to look intimidating, but before he had a chance to respond, the thug turned around and zipped into one of Siembra's many alleys. His men followed.

  Gaius holstered the axe and turned to Esven. "What was that about, captain?"

  Having regained his composure, Esven leaned against the shop's fence and said, "That was Alejo. He may not look like much, but he's pretty much the king to all the beggars, pickpockets, and other assorted scum that seems to infest any town with underfunded constabulary."

  No matter the place, somehow Gaius had never managed to encounter a guardsman who believed his unit to not be underfunded. He didn't say anything to Esven about that and instead asked, "Should I worry about him coming back?"

  "Will he try to cause trouble? Probably. Should you worry about it? Seeing you handle yourself just now and knowing that you ran into an alef and lived to tell the tale? I think you'll be just fine, Guy."

  "A good merchant knows how to protect his goods," Gaius said with a lopsided smile. "I have to admit, though. I was surprised you let him talk to you like that."

  "What I wouldn't give for the bugger to take that first swing," Esven said with a sigh. "But he knows this is a new post for me, and if I want to keep it, I have to follow the magistrate's rules. And much as I'd like for it to exist, there's no law that prohibits talking back."

  Had Esven been a Mystlund sheriff, right about now, he would be working Alejo over with some blunt instrument, while his men were stuffing the guy's home full of forbidden grimoires. Gaius picked Esven for the kind of guard who wouldn't be above such methods. Even Alejo seemed to imply that Esven had to work with his shoulders to become Siembra's captain.

  "And who's that Lucius fellow, then?" Gaius asked.

  Esven looked up at the sky and mouthed a few inaudible words of prayer. "Captain Lucius," he said when he was done. "My predecessor. The best duelist this side of Gleamspire mountains, and since your warriors are all about magics and polearms and wouldn't know what to do with a proper rapier even if Nova herself came down from the skies and blessed their sword hands, probably the best duelist in the whole world."

  With how earnest Esven was in his praise, Gaius just couldn't see him bumping the captain off to take over. "What happened to him?"

  "Careful there, Guy. You've not been in town for an hour, and already I feel like you're accusing me of something." Esven's words got out fast, like he was talking to a fellow Caladonian.

  Gaius realized he was getting carried away with this conversation. "I didn't mean to overstep," he apologized. He still needed Esven to be his friend come morning.

  "I know you didn't." Esven was back to his calm and deliberate tone. "That Alejo and his rumors. If people don't trust their guards, then he gets to run things. It's actually quite clever if you think about it."

  "That's how it usually goes," Gaius said something intentionally vague in the hopes of wrapping this conversation up before he had a chance to slip again.

  Esven didn't take the hint. "The captain was an inquisitive sort," he started. "He couldn't just accept that alefs were alefs and leave it at that. He kept trying to figure out where they were coming from. One day he packed some supplies, told me to look after things, and headed for the dwarven mines. No one's seen him since."

  "So they appointed you captain in his stead, and naturally, there were those who didn't approve."

  "Exactly. Depending on who you ask, I either killed him myself, left him to die, or, according to some, am myself an alef in disguise working to undermine the town."

  "You don't look like any alef I've seen," Gaius said with a squint.

  Esven grinned, shook his head, and said, "And you know what the worst part of it is, Guy? We don't even know for sure that Lucius is gone. He's one of Caladonia's finest, after all. Maybe he's still out there somewhere. And so we can't even honor his passing and rejoice for him joining Mallia in her eternal embrace."

  Gaius didn't know what was so joyous about your friend kicking the bucket, so he just stood there in silence, waiting for Esven to say something else.

  "I think I'm ready for that drink," he finally did.

  "You mean inspection?" Gaius said.

  Esven left his spot, adjusted his spectacles, and slammed his hand down on Gaius' shoulder. "You're alright, Guy. And I'm not just saying this because the magistrate insists we should be friendly to foreign guests."

  With that, he hummed, nodded, and set his course for the tavern.

  Gaius was left alone with a pair of glossy horses, a caravan full of undoubtedly expensive stuff, and a trading post stocked with who knows what goods. He had a busy night ahead of him.

  Story Facts - Chapter 3