Spring 64: is it important

Dearest Zann,

The manor where Srix worked was more than an hour away by longcoach. It was one of the new ones on the upstream headlands, usually owned by rich merchants. Most of these fellows had kept their money and influence under the laurans. I knew the type well from loading and unloading their barges: petty, cruel people. I hoped they were giving Srix a terrible time.

The priest’s directions to the manor were clear and simple, and when I got to the place I had no doubt it was the right one. That was nice. Usually when someone tells you how to do something, you get halfway through it and then say, “Wait. Did they mean…” But this was good.

I’m the sort of person who often plans out what they’re going to say in a conversation. So normally I would have spent the longcoach journey imagining what Srix and I would say to each other. But I didn’t this time, because Srix never cooperates with anyone else’s ideas. I might as well try to catch a butterfly in my mouth.

The manor had a strong and tall wooden gate facing the road. I picked up a stone and used it to knock on the gate.

“Hey!” a voice said from above. “Don’t do that!”

I looked up. There was a guard at the top of the wall, probably on some kind of inner parapet.

“You’ll scratch the master’s paint, with your curst rock! Just shout up to me like a normal fellow!”

“My regrets,” I called up. “Is Srix around?”

There was a pause. “What do you want him for? Does he owe you money?”

“I just have business with him.”

Another pause. “Piss off.”

I spend too much time dealing with guards. “Can you just tell him Ybel’s here? Please?”

“Is it important?”

Is it important. No, chafferhead, I came all the way out here for something frivolous. “Life and death.”

“Wait there.”

I waited there. It was very sunny so I sat down under a tree across the road. It was about ten minutes later when part of the gate unfolded enough to let three people through; very cleverly done. There was the guard I had been talking to, Srix glowering at me like he does, and a richly dressed woman.

“Do you know who this man is?” the woman said to Srix.

“I’ve never seen him before… oh, well. Yes, certes I have. His name is Ybel and he is a man of no account at all. He’s probably here to beg.”

“Then thrash him and turn him off. He’s disrupted my household enough.” And she turned away and went back inside the gate. Srix advanced on me. Truncheon on his belt.

“Wait, you’re not going to do it, are you? Srix!”

“The mistress gave me an order,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s nothing to do with me.”

“I’ve already been thrashed enough, look at me, for Mih’s sake. I want to talk to you.”

The other guard was back up at the top of the wall, grinning down at us. Srix reached out and tapped me on the point of the elbow with his truncheon, and then on the nose, both very lightly. “Look at you. I could break every bone in your body and you couldn’t do anything about it. Some guard.”

“Stop it. What’s the matter with you?”

“You’re worthless as a fighter. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for me, one of the premier noblemen of Crideon, to owe you my life?” He tapped me again, one-two-three, in the groin, stomach, and heart.

“Wait, what? No, I–“

“That’s what you’re here for, right? To collect on my debt to you?”

“Srix! Stop poking me. You’re the one who saved my life, curse you, I’m here to offer you a job.”

He lowered his truncheon. “I clearly remember you putting yourself in the path of that red-bearded fellow. I was off-balance and he would have done me, no question, if you hadn’t hindered him.”

I didn’t remember the fight clearly at all. “If you say so. But you saved my life too.”

He waved that away with a jerk of his fingers. “The difference is, my life is worth saving, and yours is of no consequence. You owe me nothing.”

“This is why people don’t like you.”

“No. They don’t like me because I remind them that they have given their allegiance to the unworthy, and it makes them uncomfortable.”

“Well, we won’t argue. Any reason will do. I’m serious about offering you a job, though. I want you to work for me.”

Srix stared. “Doing what? Hoisting crates?”

“Oh, it’s better than that. I’m a corporal in the Rosolla Guard, and I’m going to be an officer. I need someone I can trust to be my assistant.”

He laughed harshly. And kept laughing. “How low the throne of Crideon has fallen, if they’re counting on you to safeguard their lives. You slithering worm. They’d never accept me as a guard. I’m their most hated enemy!”

“They will accept you as a guard. I guarantee it.” They would, too. I’d bet all the money in my pockets that the laurans have never heard of Srix’s curst family, and if someone told them, they wouldn’t care. Only I’d never find anyone to take the other end of the bet, except Srix, who doesn’t gamble. “And wouldn’t you like to get into the palace? Your people are out there on Birch Spit, cut off from all the palace gossip. Nobody tells you anything about what’s going on. Well, here’s your chance.”

I could tell he saw the possibilities. “And you think I’d work for you? You would trust me?”

“Why not?”

But he still wasn’t convinced. Then I told him how much it paid. Thing about the Vafeligs is, they don’t have much money left.

All my love,

Ybel