I didn’t laugh. Instead, I picked up my clothes and began to get dressed.
“Wh-what’s wrong?”
“Sorry. Remembered something I have to do. I’ll come again later.”
“But you still have time…”
I looked at the incense tray with annoyance. It was nearly all ash now, but there was still a thin trail of smoke rising from it. I picked up the water jug and poured it on top, dousing the little flame.
“Time’s up.”
With that, I left the stunned woman behind. Once I’d closed the door, I exhaled. She wasn’t half bad, but I’d probably never be back. I didn’t want to think of that piece of shit while I was making love to a woman.
I washed up at the well on the way out. The sun was already down, and it was dark out now. Even with my hooded cloak on, I shivered at the cold. As I headed home, gray hood hunched, I peered down the alley from before. Alan was still there. He was beaten badly but still breathing.
“You all right?”
“…Fuck off, man-whore.”
So he knew who I was. My stock in the world was rising. With that much energy, he was clearly going to be just fine.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“You’re not from around here. Where did you come from?”
Just another of the many people who drifted here in search of immense treasure.
“…Baradelle.”
“Why, that’s just next door.”
Baradelle was a land south of Rayfiel, the kingdom where Gray Neighbor was located. They had plenty of farms and breweries, and a good portion of the food available in this area came from there.
I took a piece of paper from my pocket and used a stub of ash to write on it before sticking it into his mottled hand. “Go to Blue Dog Alley to the east and look for an old man named Toby. He’s an expert at getting idiots like you out of here. Tell him Matthew sent you and show him that paper. He’ll help break you out.”
Gray Neighbor was surrounded by high walls all around. You had to go through a gate to leave the city. Naturally, there were guards, and even the most brain-dead bunglers would refuse to let an obvious junkie pass—especially if he had no money.
“The hell are you doing?”
“Go back home. Rest until you feel better. This is not the place for you.”
“I’ll do what I want.” He grunted and glanced at the paper in his hand. There was a very short message on it: Let him out. Alan slumped against the wall. “It ain’t gold?”
“Do I look that stupid to you?”
If you give a junkie money, it turns into drugs. It wouldn’t even be worth betting on. I’d told Toby the winning wager in a cockfight, so he owed me a favor. He also knew my handwriting, so it would be enough to get the message across.
“Here’s extra.”
I took a small bag from my pocket and stuck it in his other hand. It was full of almonds. He surely hadn’t eaten for a while. And you couldn’t get any good ideas on an empty stomach.
“So long. Don’t waste your life.”
I got up to leave. As long as you were alive, it was always possible to make a comeback. This would be better than him dying in a ditch.
“Why…?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. This isn’t charity. I don’t need men like you loitering around the place.” I turned my back on him. “Don’t want Her Highness to have her eyes soiled by the likes of you. If you want the honor of an audience, you’ll need to come back a changed man.”
The pubs in Gray Neighbor never closed. Adventurers downed pints late into the night, dunking their heads into barrels—either to celebrate a safe return or forget the horrors they’d seen in the dungeon.
I hunched over and made my way down a street packed with pubs and brothels. This little pleasure district was popularly known as Bandits’ Alley. Spend too much time here, and they’d rob you blind. I extracted myself from the various barkers trying to drum up business for their whorehouses and made my way into the much quieter slums. To get home, it was faster to cut through here than to go east and take the main street.
There was much less foot traffic now. The light from the lanterns and open windows was barely enough to see by. Beggars in the street were curled up in blankets to sleep, for the most part, while the few who were awake engaged in their business eagerly, flocking to passed-out drunks like crows, stripping them of their shoes and trousers. That was going to be a painful lesson.
I was stifling a yawn and going over the next day’s plans in my head when I felt it.
There was an unpleasant sensation emanating from an alleyway between three-story buildings.
While my strength was long gone, there were some things I still retained from my adventuring days. One was my hardy constitution, and the other was my intuition. I’d built up a very keen sense for the presence of others. Faint shifts in the air, cloth rubbing on cloth, muscles creaking, blinking—all these things I could practically feel on my skin. It was instinct, not logic, and it had saved my hide on many occasions.
Thanks to that, I always knew I could win when I was it in a game of hide-and-seek. Especially if my opponent was openly malicious.
Was it a thief or someone with a grudge? Sadly, I could easily imagine either. The gold coin I’d received from my generous lady benefactor this morning still sat in my pocket. As for personal grudges, I’d earned a few. Mostly from men whose women I’d slept with or card opponents who’d detected I was cheating.
I didn’t stop. I didn’t say a word. There was no need to inform the other person that I knew they were there—that would be suicide. Instead, I pretended to forget something and slowly turned myself around in front of the alley.
I’d been hoping this would be enough to get me out of trouble. Sadly, it was not.
One of the beggars curled up on the side of the street stood and cast his blanket aside, revealing a thin-faced man around thirty years of age. His stubbled cheeks and pale skin suggested a poor constitution, but his eyes were as cloudy as a stagnant bog. They were the eyes of a man who’d killed before. He wore leather armor and gauntlets and had a shortsword in his hand.
I also felt someone moving behind me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a short man come up from the alley. He, too, wore leather armor and seemed to be holding a weapon. This one had some kind of cloth over his face, but I could sense the spite in his gaze like something clinging to my skin.
“Must be difficult to sleep, dressed like that,” I said to the thin-faced man. I was trying my hardest to act like I didn’t understand the situation yet. “I’m in a hurry. My wife will kill me if I’m not home soon. Can you just tell me what you want so I can be on my way?”
He didn’t respond. The stubbled man’s eyes were roaming over my arms and legs. He was looking for an opportunity to strike while he pretended to listen to my question.
“Oh, fine.” I reached carefully into my pocket and tossed the coin purse at the man’s feet. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? It’s yours. Take it with you.”
The stubbled man moved, striding quickly and crouching to reach for the purse.
That was when the man behind me sprang into action. I spun around to see him leaping like a spider, his dagger drawn and plunging.
I leaped sideways and rolled over the cobblestones. The sound of the blade scraping on stone followed. I popped to my feet near the wall while the stubbled man attacked next. He kept his dagger at waist height and charged for a body blow.
The silver blade glinted in the light. I waited, timing his lunge, and slid sideways right as he pounced like a snake. There was a dull thud. Glancing sidelong, I noted that his shortsword had gotten stuck inside the stacked stone wall of the house. Noticeably irritated, the stubbled man put his foot against the wall and forced the blade free.
A few of the stacked stones came loose. The other beggars on the street quickly got up and moved away to avoid trouble.
“Fire! There’s a fire!” I shouted. That was the best way to get attention. Screaming about robbery and killers was a sure way to make people huddle in the safety of their homes. The threat of a fire under your ass was much more effective.
Sure enough, I could hear stirring from the homes around us. There was also a whistle nearby, uttering quick bursts as it approached. That was the whistle the town guards used.
The short one looked hesitant. I used the opportunity to put some distance between me and them. The whistle got louder and louder.
The stubbled man clicked his tongue with frustration, spun around, and ran farther down the alley. The short man hurried after him. While they ran off, I leaned against the wall and slid down to a sitting position, exhaling. Two guards soon appeared, each wearing a gray helmet and plate armor. They had chain mail on underneath that slid and scraped on the plate when it moved.
One was forty-something with a little mustache, and the other was maybe twenty and darker-skinned. I didn’t know their names, but I’d seen them around before.
“You again?” The mustached man scowled. Clearly, he remembered the recent incident in which I vomited on his boots while in a drunken haze.
“Whad is it? Wha’ happened?” asked the darker man. He had an unmistakable, nasally voice, which I recalled distinctly.
“Nothing serious,” I said, shrugging. “I must’ve looked like a great stage actor to someone. This blond woman exposed her belly and begged me to sign it, for some reason. I was just convincing her of her mistake; she’s tucked her tummy away and gone in that direction. If you see her, could you tell her I said she should make sure to cover up so she doesn’t catch a cold when she sleeps?”
The darker man made a face.
“Were you the one who yelled about a fire?” asked the mustached man.
“Was I?”
I didn’t want to give them a false statement and earn a night in a cell. The guards were responsible for security, crime prevention, and crackdowns in the city. One look at the state of the place told you just how efficient they were.
“The gentlemen in the street earlier were so passionate with their affairs, they must have caught something on fire, I suppose.”
The mustached man was already turning away, all interest lost. He must have taken my answer for the rambling of a drunk. I’d only had a drink or two.