Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 8 Pt. 2

 Notes: Let's go down a bit of a rabbit hole into Avery's past, hmm?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 8 Pt. 2

***

 

Chapter Eight, Part Two

 

Photo by Annie Spratt

 

Rough Beginnings

 

Tilda came back a few minutes later holding two large cups,each with a spoon sticking out the top. “We’ll have to return these once we’redone,” she said as she sat down in the chair Master Surr—Avery had sorecently vacated. “I had to convince Ruslan to let me take them away from thestall, but I assured him you’re much more responsible than a child.” She heldone of the mugs out to Hiram.

He took it and inhaled deeply as he looked inside. “Potatosoup?”

“Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it,” she warned him with alittle smile.

Hiram obligingly took a spoonful and, after blowing for amoment to take the heat off, tried it. He closed his eyes and bit back a moanas flavor burst across his tongue, half a dozen different herbs and spices blendingharmoniously with soft chunks of potato, a creamy base, and salty bacon.

A lot of bacon.

“Good, isn’t it?” Tilda said once Hiram opened his eyesagain. She did an admirable job of not sounding smug, but he knew this was herversion of “I told you so.”

“Delicious,” he agreed. They ate in companionable silencefor a while, the hubbub of Market Day diminished as everyone in attendanceseemed to decide all at once that it was time to eat. Once he’d taken the edgeoff his hunger, Hiram said, “So. Master Surrus is…interesting.”

Tilda nodded knowingly. “Isn’t he? I thought I saw the twoof you chatting together.”

“Yes.” Hiram didn’t tell her what they’d talked about—he didn’tshare his clients’ concerns to others unless they specifically allowed it—but hehad plenty of questions that didn’t revolve around nightmares. “I get thefeeling he’s not a local.”

“He is, actually.”

Oh. That was genuinely surprising.

“Well,” Tilda corrected herself, “I should clarify. He wasborn nearby and he lived here for some years in his childhood, but he left veryyoung. He only came back five or six years ago, and I think that’s only becauseof Master Spindlestep.”

Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. “Are they friends,then?” he asked despite knowing the answer.

“They are. I don’t know the details of it, but I believethat Master Spindlestep was something of an adventurer before he lost hiseyesight. He bought the store from Lollop’s last tailor over ten years ago, buthe still gets out and about every now and then. I suppose they must have met onone of his journeys, and Master Spindlestep invited him back to Lollop.”

Tilda set her spoon back in the mug and put it on the table.“Master Surrus was in a bad way when he first came to town,” she said, her eyesdistant with memory. “Poor thing looked half starved, and he was barely able towalk. Hardly any of us saw him for the first few months of his time here, andonce he finally emerged he was still very thin and pale.” Her face brightened abit as she went on, “But he’s a gifted teacher. We’re quite lucky to have him—noone else was lined up to take on the role of teacher after Mistress Arivas decidedto give it up, but he fit in beautifully. He’s recovered very well since then,and the children thrive with him. We even had to expand the school and get himan assistant so he could handle the workload.”

A picture was beginning to emerge, but Hiram still hoped tofill more of it in with Tilda’s assistance. “Was he born to a farming family?”

“Ah. No.” Tilda lowered her voice a bit. “His mother worked atan establishment that provided food, drink, and company to travelers. Shewas young when she had him, and she did her best to care for him but Lollop israther…old-fashioned in a lot of ways. She didn’t get the help she needed, andeventually she ran off with a tinker and left the young boy behind.”

Hiram’s mouth dropped open. Not because he was necessarilysurprised—it was an old tale, one he’d seen play out many times on the road—butbecause— “Lollop’s primary deity is Melemor. Melemor specifically requireshis followers to care for orphans and children who’ve been abandoned. He shouldhave been taken into the temple.”

“He was,” Tilda replied evenly. “And he hated it there, fromall accounts. When he was offered an apprenticeship in another town, he leaptat the chance. We lost track of him after that.”

“An apprenticeship in what?”

“Chimney sweeping.”

Of course. Small children or gnomes had to be employed tomake it down the narrow chimneys most houses had, and gnomes generally knewbetter. It was dangerous work at the best of times, and all too often childrenwere injured or killed while plying the trade. “I see.”

Tilda sighed. “I know you’re judging us harshly, and I don’tsay that we don’t deserve it, but—”

“No, no.” Hiram shook his head. “I’m not, I assure you. Lifeis…” He shrugged. “Life is full of extenuating circumstances. However MasterSurrus began, he’s clearly made something of himself, and the fact that he’swilling to live and work in Lollop now speaks well of the town, I suppose.”

“And better of him,” Tilda said, a smile beginning tosurface again. “Hiram…do you like Avery?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Did he like him? There was definitely somethingintriguing about the young man, and he was quite handsome. Anyone with eyescould see that. Not to mention his familiarity with philosophical concepts thatno one without a rather high level of education would have even heard of, muchless been able to explain, and… “He’s interesting,” Hiram allowed. “I’d like tospeak with him again, certainly.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Oh, no. No. Hiram shook his head. “I’ve no need of amatchmaker,” he insisted. “I came to Lollop for peace and quiet, not to becomea spectacle.”

Tilda laughed. “Hiram,” she said, gently but with somereproach, “I’m afraid you’re already a spectacle. You say Avery is interesting,and he is, but he’s nothing compared to the interest you’ve generated here intown.”

And that, Hiram was coming to realize, was a mistake. Thelast thing he needed was for the next Imperial messenger to stick a WANTEDposter in Fuzzle Pinky’s tavern and have half a dozen people wondering why thepicture looked so much like their new herbalist.

Tilda’s hand came down on top of his, and he realized he’dbeen tapping the tabletop with his fingers. “It will die down,” she promisedhim quietly. “Not many new people come to Lollop, but once you’re in, you’rein. Our town will get used to you, and you’ll be all right.”

Hiram looked into her warm, understanding eyes and thanked allhis luck that she had been the one to guide his stay so far. Tilda likelyguessed far more than he was comfortable with, but he also knew she would keepher silence.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry ofpleasantries, brief meetings, and disbursement of his stock until, at the endof the day, there was nothing left but a few sprigs of dried rosemary. Hiramconsidered it quite the success, and so did Tilda.

“You’ll have more orders than you know what to do with,” shesaid cheerfully as she helped him pack up. “You should consider hiring an apprentice.Perhaps Letty…”

Hiram shook his head. “I don’t think she’d be content inthat sort of role,” he confessed. “She’s looking for something different.” Andhe would figure it out soon enough and see what he could do to facilitate it. “AndI can manage well enough for now on my own.”

“If you say so. Come on.” Tilda nodded toward The YewBrew. “Let me treat you to a drink before we retrieve your mule and cart.”

“If you insist.”

“I believe I do.” She linked arms with him and led him towardthe tavern. Just before they reached the door, Hiram glanced back at thesquare. In the distance, he just had time to make out a familiar, broad-shoulderedsilhouette before it vanished into a shop.

I wonder how Avery and Master Spindestep met. Perhapshe would get the chance to ask someday.

***

The door to the tailor’s shop slammed shut, the bell aboveit jingling so violently it almost fell off. “Sorry.”

The old elf sighed, his hands not stopping their hemmingwork as he turned his head toward the doorway. Eye contact didn’t matter tohim, of course, but the effort put other people more at ease. “Avery, dear.What has you in such a tizzy?”

The young man came over to Narion’s workbench and sat downbeside him. Then he stood up again and began to pace, then sat once more. “Whatmakes you think I’m in a tizzy?”

“Avery. Sit down, you’re making me tired just listening toyou pace.”

“I’m not in a tizzy. That man didn’t put me into a tizzy.”

Ah. “You met Master Emblic, then.”

The pacing stopped. “How can you tell?”

“Most people seem to have a strong reaction to meeting him.Also, you smell very strongly of chamomile.”

“Oh.” Avery took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly, “Yes,I did meet him today. We spoke for a bit.”

Narion nodded. “Anything interesting?”

“Peverall’s Demon, in fact.”

Narion went still. After a moment, he said, “Well, the manis from Galenish. He’s had access to some of the greatest universities andlibraries in the world. It’s not surprising he might be more educated than youraverage villager.”

“Especially if he wasn’t always an herbalist.”

Narion turned more fully to face Avery as he sat down again.“You suspect he wasn’t?”

“I do. He’s too smooth, too much of a talker. Tooinsightful. The only people like him I’ve met before were people who understoodpower.”

“People of power don’t come to places like Lollop.”

Avery snorted. “Yourself excused, I suppose.”

“I’m no longer powerful, my dear. I wish I was, I wish Icould do as you need, but—”

Avery’s warm hands took hold of his. “You’ve done more thanI could have asked,” he promised, easing Narion’s heart. “You kept me alivewhen I wanted nothing more than to die, and I’m forever grateful for that. ButI still need to find a way out of this.”

Narion nodded. “And you think Master Emblic might be thekey?”

“I don’t know yet. But…” Avery took something out frombeneath his cloak and set it carefully on the table in front of Narion. “Hegave me this. He was—well. Can you sense anything from it?”

A ceramic jar? The source of the chamomile, and some otherherbs, and…Narion ran one long finger around the edge of it, then drew backwith a gasp. Power…latent, subtle, but strong. So strong. He couldn’t rememberthe last time his psychometry had been so intensely triggered. There was a hintof fire, and the color gold, and…

And this from a man who wasn’t even trying to use his power.

“Be careful,” Narion whispered. “Be very careful, Avery.There is much more to Hiram Emblic than meets the eye.”

“So he is powerful.”

“Yes, but…” This much power could only be accompanied by agreat deal of danger. “Don’t push him,” Narion warned.

“Oh, I won’t,” Avery said.

Now, why didn’t Narion believe that?