The Dread Lords Rising by J. David Phillips
Chapter Seventeen
Things Overheard
For the first time in a week Niam had some alone time. Now that the trade conference was concluded, vendors were spread out all across Pirim Village’s market square. The last shipments were in from the continent before the first snows of winter placed a white chokehold on regular travel until spring. Often, what the snows did not do to the tightly pinched roads winding throughout the region, mudslides from constant thawing and refreezing did. Soon, Pirim Village would disgorge itself of the surplus population of visitors whose numbers steadily increased as soon as the paths into the Lake Valleys opened up. Hot springs dotted the region. From Pirim Village to Havel’s Dock, resorts and vacation villas flourished amid the province’s lakes and vineyards. They seemed to be natural but strange variations to the land, composed of neither lake nor orchard, but symbiotically attached to both.
But with the frost lying more heavily across the land by the day, the Lake Valleys were glutted with part-time residents. This was the last day when vendors and shops sold goods brought in for the conference at sale prices, and the yearly event heralded an end to business. Now it was time for all who had not settled in with roots deep enough to tolerate the deep snows to leave.
Niam wound his way among shoppers free to be by himself for a while. Well . . . not completely free. He had to deliver a package to the Mayor’s office for Mr. Sartor. When he reached the mayor’s office, his thoughts grew grim. A long bench faced him as he entered, and through an arched entry on the other side stretched a long hallway, at the end of which a set of double doors emblazoned with the Pirim Village crest led into the mayor’s offices.
From the other side of the bench, a kindly old clerk greeted Niam with a sad smile. Whenever he saw her, he always had the feeling that she wanted to fix him, yet there was nothing to fix. For as far back as he could remember he had always felt broken—and if he was made broken, if that break was a part of his nature, was he really broken at all when he was simply being himself? Avoiding her eyes, Niam handed over Mr. Sartor’s package and turned to go. As he did he closed his eyes to avoid the door on the left side of the lobby. That was one place he could not allow himself to look into, yet every part of him wanted to look and peer into the offices on the other side.
Seth had worked there for three years.
Had the offices changed much? The current tenant had doubtlessly replaced all of Seth’s things. But he wasn’t ready to face that just yet. Niam scurried away, but before he made it completely across the room, he looked through the window and froze. Outside, Garrolus Kreeth made his way up the sidewalk as shoppers scurried out of his way. But if that weren’t bad enough, what he saw coming from the other direction seemed to make the temperature shoot up in the room. Salb, Jalt, and Card moved toward the office, glaring at everyone they passed.
Niam shook his head. Just a handful of days earlier the three of them ran and screamed like little children as fire erupted around them at the Vandin camp. He wondered what that knowledge would do to their puffed up bravado if everyone knew.
Niam’s stomach twisted itself into a knot, and he hurried to the back door to slip out before Kreeth entered. Outside he sat on the steps feeling foolish waiting for them to pass, but Niam didn’t feel like risking a confrontation today. While he knew that Salb wouldn’t try anything in plain sight, the memory of Niam’s little stunt with their horses would still be fresh in their minds.
After waiting for a suitable length of time, Niam took the walkway leading around the building and to the street, keeping his eyes on the lookout for any sign of Salb or Kreeth. The first rule of survival if you were the town runt had always been, see the predators before they see you. Before he made it to the corner of the mayor’s office, the sound of heated voices alerted him to danger just on the other side.
Kreeth and Salb seemed to be locked in some kind of heated conversation. Niam’s heart dropped. If Kreeth and Salb ever had any business together, it certainly wasn’t anything good. He stopped and considered going back behind the building and hiding for a bit longer. After all, listening in on Bode’s conversation hadn’t done anything except nearly get him and his friends killed.
But as he stood there, he sighed. This was how the bullies of the world operated: make the cost of doing the right thing—or even just living your life in peace—too high to pay. That’s how they got their way. If life were a downhill slope, they just steepened the incline a bit to make getting their way easier through intimidation and fear. The impulse to hide shamed Niam.
He exhaled heavily; thoughts of enjoying a carefree day to fled like shadows before a flame. He reasoned that forewarned HAD to be forearmed. Knowing what a toxic mix like Salb and Kreeth were talking about so intently might be in his best interest.
Salb and Kreeth were too far around the corner’s edge to hear clearly. Niam flattened himself against the cold wall, held his breath as he slowly made his way to the corner so that he could hear over the sound his own breathing made in his ears. Wheels grumbled across the stone streets, and from the Market Square and merchant district, business hawkers shouted out their wares. Niam bit the side of his cheek and wished the world would all shut up for a moment.
At the corner, he nearly had to lean out in order to make out what they were saying. Kreeth’s words were like angry hisses. “I don’t care what your excuses are, boy! You’ll do as you are told from now on.”
“But Bode said that his father told him—” Salb began defensively.
The merchant’s words were slow and deliberate. “And you were warned to stay away. Nobody really cares what happens to the Vandin, but if any of you had gotten yourselves killed while you were up there, the deaths of local boys would have caused lots of potential problems for me and my interests.”
“Well Bode—” Salb tried again, but the sound of a smack loud enough to make Niam wince stopped him.
“I’ve told you to keep your voice down, you idiot,” Kreeth snarled. “You will do what I tell you to do, and if you’re as worthless as Ravel’s boy, I will pay someone else.”
“Fine,” Salb grumbled after a long pause.
“Just do what I asked. I want you to cause those three brats as much trouble as you can. They’ve become a problem,” Kreeth said darkly.
Salb mouthed something Niam could not make out, but Kreeth’s response was unmistakably sharp. “That’s my business. All you—”
There was a moment of silence and a few more words Niam couldn’t distinguish, and at last, Kreeth spoke again. “Never approach me in public again.” His voice was dark and threatening.
“Fine,” Salb told him, managing to remain defiant, though Niam heard beneath it an undercurrent of fear.
Quietly, Niam waited until he heard Kreeth enter the mayor’s office. Salb and the other thugs walked off the way they had come. Niam heard their raucous laughter as they insulted younger boys and girls, and he warily peeked around the corner to watch as they walked away. He remained ready dart away if one of them turned around and saw him. Kreeth’s words rattled him. The man was a nasty enemy to have, and apparently he and his friends had fallen under his hateful gaze.
Niam moved to a window and peeked into the mayor’s office. The wispy shape of Kreeth still spoke to the clerk. Clear glass was a luxury only for the few in the island kingdoms. It was more common on the continent. But Gaius Sartor was building a glass works foundry adjacent to Joachim’s hunting preserve. This alone was sure to bring him a small fortune.
The farther the bullies got, the more Niam felt himself unwind. By the time they reached the first row of shops, he prepared to make his way back to the center of Pirim Village’s merchant district to find Maerillus and Davin. Even from the distance separating them, Niam saw the three bullies greedily eyeing the shops a
With that thought Niam gave a wicked laugh. There were sure to be no exploding boxes in Pirim Village’s stores to scare them away like a gaggle of terrified hens. Before Niam had time to think about what he was doing, he began to cautiously follow them.
Things were quite often like this for Niam. Almost as if his body possessed a will of its own, overriding any good sense he had to stay out of trouble. He knew he should have turned left and crossed the town’s park. If he had done so—and it certainly was the sensible thing to do—he would have disappeared into the crowd.
Soon the shoppers would be gone as the event wore down, but for now thickets of people provided the best concealment against Kreeth or the three hounds walking in front of him. The vile merchant had set Salb and his followers to sniffing out Niam, Davin, and Maerillus’s activities. If any of these stores got robbed later, he might be able to connect them to the crimes.