Murtagh ran until the burning in his lungs forced him to slow to a quick walk. Then he ran again, then walked, then ran. In like fashion, he hurried back to the hollow where Thorn was waiting.
Always you stir people up, like a hill of ants. Thorn was crouched, tense and ready to take o๏ฌ from within the ring of willows and poplars.
โI know,โ said Murtagh, leaning over with his hands on his knees. โIt seems to be a bad habit.โ
Will the elves ๏ฌnd us here?
โI donโt know,โ he said, straightening. โBut I donโt think itโs safe to stay.โ He went to the waterskin heโd left hanging on a branch by his bedding, unstoppered it, and drank his ๏ฌll. The water was warm and somewhat stale, but it was a welcome treat after a day of thirst.
Thorn watched, unblinking.ย Let me see the scale.
Murtagh wiped his mouth. He tossed the empty skin onto his blankets, fetched his gloves, and then carefully removed the gleaming scale from his purse.
With an excited hum, Thorn crept forward until his nose nearly touched the topaz plate. The dragonโs hot breath created droplets of moisture on the scale, and they re๏ฌected its inner light in a dazzling display.
The stubbed end of Thornโs tail slapped the ground. A crow rose cawing from the top of a poplar.
Murtagh studied the puckered white scar that marked where Glaedr had bitten o๏ฌ the last three feet of Thornโs tail. His tail was a normal length now
โGalbatorix had seen to thatโbut the healing had been a forced, imperfect thing. What had been lost could not be replaced, so instead the king had set spells on Thorn to stretch the bones and muscles left to him. It had taken Thorn weeks to relearn how to balance himself in ๏ฌight.
Thorn let out a long breath.ย Glaedr was a worthy foe. โYes, he was,โ said Murtagh.
He died as every dragon should: ๏ฌghting on wing, in the sky. โHeโs not entirely dead.โ
Thorn blinked.ย But he can no longer ๏ฌy. He cannot move. He can only think. I would sooner crash myself into the side of a mountain than live like that.
โI know,โ said Murtagh, soft. They had been fortunate Galbatorix hadnโt forced Thorn to disgorge his Eldunarรญ. Young as he was, Thorn would have ended up with a severe mismatch between the size of his mind and the size of his body.
After Murtagh wrapped the scale in cloth and carefully stowed it in a saddlebag, Thorn said,ย What now?
Murtagh checked the sky. The stars were fully out, and the horns of a crescent moon were peeking over the horizon.ย Perfect. Just dark enough to help conceal them from watching eyes, but not so dark they couldnโt see their work.
โNow,โ he said, rolling up his blankets, โwe go ๏ฌshing.โ
 |
Murtagh let out a sound of frustration and slumped back in Thornโs saddle.
An hour of ๏ฌying around and across Isenstar Lake had proved fruitless. The lake was huge, and they had no idea where to look for Muckmaw. Moreover, it was impossible to see anything useful in the dark water, even with the help of the crescent moon, and Thorn didnโt dare ๏ฌy too close to the surface, lest night ๏ฌshermen spot them. Murtagh had used his mind to search for creatures in the water, but from high above and at speed, it was
easy to overlook the cold thoughts of a ๏ฌsh. Especially if it were sleeping. In any case, he didnโt know what Muckmawโs consciousness felt like.
They landed upon several sections of isolated shore and he dangled Glaedrโs scale in the still waters, hoping it would attract the ๏ฌshโs attention, as Carabel had claimed. But the waters remained smooth and untroubled, and the hoots of sleepy loons echoing across Isenstar were the only sign of animal life.
Frustrated, they took to the air again.
This isnโt going to work, said Murtagh, using his mind so the sound of his voice wouldnโt carry over the moonlit water.ย We could spend days patrolling Isenstar and have nothing to show for it but ๏ฌies in our teeth and elves on our tail.
Thorn gave an irritated shake of his head.ย It is a good night for hunting, but only if we know where to hunt.
Exactlyโฆ. Murtagh glanced back toward Gilโead. A scattered constellation of lanterns and torches lit the city, forming a warm welcome in the darkness. If he were a ๏ฌsherman, he thought the sight would have been comforting indeed. He tapped Thorn on the shoulder.ย Turn around. I have an idea.
Why do I have a feeling in my belly that your idea will be dangerous?
Because you can read my mind, thatโs why. And it wonโt be that dangerous. Not if Iโm clever.
Try not to be too clever. Clever fails more often than simple.ย Mmh.
At Murtaghโs direction, Thorn landed behind a small hill half a mile from the northeastern side of Gilโead. Hopefully the elves wouldnโt be looking there. Surrounding the hill was a dense patchwork of cultivated ๏ฌelds: clover, wheat, and close-planted rows of various root vegetables.
Murtagh slid to the ground and took a moment to study the land. There was a farmhouse to the north, closer than he would have liked. โYouโll have to be careful. There could be dogs.โ
I know how to hide, said Thorn, sounding vaguely o๏ฌended.
He smiled. โYes, you do. But listen, if Iโm not back in a few hours, leave.
Donโt wait for dawn. Farmers rise early, and if they see youโโ
Theyโll cause no more trouble than weโve faced before. Thorn hu๏ฌed, and white smoke billowed up from his muzzle.
โLetโs avoid it all the same.โ
Squatting, Murtagh dug a handful of moist dirt out from under the grass and rubbed it into his hands and onto his face. He hated the feel of the grime, but it would help age him and make him look more like a commoner.
He had a sudden, intense sense of familiarity, as if heโd already lived this moment. In a way he had, he supposed. Before entering Gilโead to help rescue Eragon, heโd done exactly the same.
โThe more things change, the more they stay the same.โ Thorn cocked his head.ย And what help is it knowing that?
โNot sure. Maybe weโll learn to recognize the patterns, and we can avoid making the same mistakes twice.โ He stood. โIโll be back soon.โ
And he set out at a steady trot, again heading toward Gilโead. Behind him, Thorn let out a concerned growl.
|
This time, Murtagh didnโt enter the city through a main road. Instead, he made his way to the lake and continued along the water until he arrived at Gilโeadโs outer docks. From there it was a simple matter to walk out on the strand, climb a muck-encrusted dock, and slip past a watchman preoccupied with his pipe.
The docks had a very di๏ฌerent smell from those at Ceunon. Isenstar was a freshwater lake, and the absence of salt resulted in a cleaner, fresher scent. Even the odor of ๏ฌsh was more mild, ino๏ฌensive.
Murtagh skulked along the lakeside buildingsโpast sorting houses and storage barns and dry goods storesโsearching for what he knew had to exist. But all of the taverns and common houses he found were already shuttered for the night, and dogs, not drunks, ambled across the packed dirt of the street, sni๏ฌng and snapping at one another in a desultory manner.
The patter of light footsteps passed behind him.
He turned fast, only to see the same two ragged urchins who had accosted him outside Gilโeadโs fortress. They held up their dirty hands, their faces pale and wide-eyed beneath their poorly cropped hair. โPlease, master, sir,โ they said in a pleading tone.
Murtagh frowned, his senses alert for an ambush. โWhat are you doing about at this time of night?โ
The two glanced at each other with bright, impish expressions. They were brothers, he thought, only a year or two apart. The taller one said, โOh, nothing much, sir. Just trying to ๏ฌnd food.โ
The shorter one piped up: โThatโs right, sir. Food for our poor mum, that is.โ
The brothers exchanged delighted glances again. Then, from both of them: โPlease, master, sir.โ
Trouble, thatโs what you are, Murtagh thought. He eyed the length of dark street. A watchman appeared between a pair of buildings some distance away; the manโs lantern cast a key of yellow light across the street before he walked on and a corner cut o๏ฌ the glow.
Murtagh looked back at the two incorrigibles. He ๏ฌshed out a pair of coppers. The boys reached for them, and he lifted the coppers over their heads. โAh-ah. Not so fast. Tell me ๏ฌrst, are there any taverns still open at this ghastly hour?โ
The boys bobbed their heads. โOh yes! Several.โ โAnd where might I ๏ฌnd the nearest?โ
โRight down thataways, sir!โ said the shorter one without the slightest hesitation, and he pointed along the lakeside buildings. โRight past thโ stables and to the left. The Rusty Anchor. You canโt miss it.โ
Murtagh dropped the coins, and the boys caught them out of the air, fast as birds. โMy thanks. Now o๏ฌ to bed with the both of you, and donโt let me catch you out here again.โ
โYessir! Thank you, sir!โ they said, bowing and laughing. And then they ran o๏ฌ into the dark city, the shorter leading the taller.
Murtagh shook his head and continued in the direction theyโd indicated.
The way was farther than he expected. He had nearly lost faith in the boysโ instructions when he spotted a battered old tavern with light in the windows at the western end of Gilโead, where the buildings were low and shabby. True to its name, the Rusty Anchor had a shipโs anchor hung over the front door, along with a sign featuring a pair of beer mugs clinking together.
โThe more things changeโฆโ Out of habit, Murtagh touched his belt to check on the position of his dagger. But, of course, it wasnโt there, only the empty sheath.
He scowled. He was running a risk going to a place like this unarmed. It was the sort of disreputable establishment where strangers often woke up the next day with a lump on their head and a purse empty of coin. If they were lucky enough to wake up at all. More than once, heโd heard about the sons of nobles who had gone out drinking in such establishments and ended up robbed, bruised, or worse.
Of course, nowย heย was the sort of person that others needed to be afraid of. He couldnโt lie to himself: the thought wasnโt entirely unpleasant. After the past few years, Murtagh would settle for inspiring fear if it would keep him and Thorn safe.
He took a moment to set his mind and assume the needed persona.
Then he moved forward with a rough stride and entered the tavern.
Unlike the Fulsome Feast in Ceunon, the Rusty Anchor was a dark, grim place that smelled of smoke, sweat, stale urine, and despair. The ๏ฌoor was a mess of muddy boards, and there were only a few bottles and cups on the shelf behind the bar. The barkeep himself sat in a corner, next to a cask of tapped beer, head against the wall, snoring loud enough to wake a dragon (and Murtagh knew exactly how loud that was).
The patrons of the establishment were a mix of ๏ฌshermen, laborers, and several men who Murtagh guessed were either swords for hire orโif they didnโt get hiredโfootpads looking for their next object of prey.
He could feel them watching him as he made his way across the room. The barkeep woke the instant he placed coppers on the scarred wood counter.
โBeer,โ said Murtagh. โCheapest youโve got.โ
โCheap is all we โave got,โ said the barkeep, slowly getting to his feet. He had a pregnant paunch that stretched his apron as tight as a drum. He made the coppers disappear in his pudgy hands and gave Murtagh half a copper in return. Then he grabbed a mug that looked none too clean and ๏ฌlled it from the cask.
Murtagh eyed the beer. It was totally ๏ฌat. He decided not to press the point and carried the mug to a table by the small stone hearth. The ๏ฌre was almost dead, barely more than a bed of despondent coals.
As Murtagh settled into a chair, one of the hired swordsโa short, bird-chested man with a nervous tic in his left eyeโcleared his throat and said, โYuh come in wโ one of thโ caravans?โ
Murtagh nodded. โStraight from Ilirea. We got in two hours before dark, but it took this long to shift everything out of the wagons.โ
A man with a dwar๏ฌike beard and a scar through his left eyebrow spoke up: โWhat news of the road?โ
The beer had all the ๏ฌavor of thinned barley water. Murtagh grimaced and put it back down. โThe road is ๏ฌne. Dusty, thatโs for sure. We made do without anyone waylaying us, so I reckon the queenโs men are doing a good job of keeping order.โ
The bird-chested man and his bearded companion exchanged a glance that seemed somewhat conspiratorial. Bird-chest said, โWere yuh working as protection for this said caravan?โ
Murtagh nodded. โDidnโt even have to draw my sword none. Canโt complain with that.โ
โAlways a good dayโs work when you donโt have to work,โ said the bearded man.
โThereโs a truth worth drinking to.โ Murtagh raised his mug and took a qua๏ฌ. Then he looked over at the ๏ฌshermen in their cabled sweaters and woolen caps, which they kept on even indoors. โI heard tell thereโs good ๏ฌshing in Isenstar Lake.โ
โPassable good,โ said the near ๏ฌsherman, keeping his gaze on his mug.
โOne of the men I stood watch with wouldnโt shut his gob about it. Kept going on and on about the summer pike. That and the eels. Always the eels.โ
โThe eels is ๏ฌne enough eating,โ the ๏ฌsherman allowed. โLong as you ainโt overcook โem.โ
Murtagh nodded, as if this con๏ฌrmed what heโd heard. โSeeing as thatโs the case, I might try my luck with a hook and line while Iโm here. I used to be a dab hand at ๏ฌshing.โ He lifted his mug again and then shook his head and put it down. โOnlyโฆItโs a silly thing, and Iโm dead sure this watchmate of mine was tozing me, but, well, he kept talking about how it was right dangerous to drop a line hereabouts. On account of some ๏ฌsh called Muckmaw. Said it was the biggest, meanest ๏ฌsh in the whole lake. I ๏ฌgured he was talking out his ear anโ it were all stu๏ฌ and nonsense. Right has to be, no?โ
The ๏ฌshermen tensed, and one of them made a motion to ward o๏ฌ the evil eye and leaned over and spat on the ๏ฌoor. The spittle was dark green from a plug of cardus weed tucked in his cheek. โBlasted thing.โ
Murtagh raised an eyebrow. โSo thereโs something to it, then?โ โMaybe,โ said the near man, surly.
โThat sounds like a story worth telling.โ
No one volunteered. The ๏ฌshermen stared with sullen gazes at the ๏ฌreplace, while bird-chest and dwarf-beard smirked at each other at the lack of response. The man who had spat pushed back his chair. โHorvath. Merrik. Iโll be o๏ฌ. Anra will be a-waiting.โ
Murtagh raised a hand. โBarkeep. A round for everyone. My coin.โ
The barkeep forced his eyes open and blinked, bleary. He nodded and shu๏ฌed o๏ฌ toward the cask.
After a momentโs hesitation, the ๏ฌsherman settled back in his chair. โSuppose she can wait a mug longer,โ he muttered.
They sat in silence while the barkeep ๏ฌlled the mugs and made his rounds to the tables. As Murtagh handed over the last of his coppers, bird-chest raised his mug in an appreciative gesture.
โThanks, stranger,โ said one of the ๏ฌshermen. He had a scar on his forearm that reminded Murtagh of Essie. โMighty kind of you.โ
โOreth son of Brock,โ said Murtagh. He ๏ฌgured it wise to start using a name other than Tornac around Gilโead.
The cardus chewer scratched the red stubble on his chin. โMuckmaw, eh? If you really want to know the truth of thโ matter, youโd best be talkโn to old Haugin, but heโs long since asleep if โn I know aught about him.โ
โHeโll sleep thโ whole winter through,โ said the scarred ๏ฌsherman. โAinโt that right,โ said cardus-chewer, nodding. โCanโt rightly blame
him, though. Heโs got three and seventy winters. A manโs due some sleep after that long working.โ
Murtagh took another sip of the ๏ฌat beer. โAnd what would he tell me about Muckmaw?โ he asked, trying to hurry them along.
Cardus-chewer and his companions exchanged signi๏ฌcant looks. โWell now, itโs a curious thing. Might be you think Iโm whistling in the wind if I say the truth, but yโ asked, and since you paid the beer, youโll get the tale, if โn you pardon the expression.โ
Murtagh smiled. โOf course.โ
โSo. You have tโ understand what Muckmaw is afore I start.โ โDo tell.โ
The scarred ๏ฌsherman burst out: โHeโs a right mean old bastard, is what he is. You see this mark on my arm? There is where he bit me four summers ago. Bastard. Iโd like as to gut him and smoke him up for dinner one of these days.โ
โWe all would,โ said cardus-chewer. The hired swords were listening intently now, eyes gleaming in the dull red light of the coals. โYou see, Oreth, thโ blasted ๏ฌsh is near as long as one of our sailboats. A good ten paces from tip to butt, Iโd reckon, and โbout three paces โcross the beam.โ
Murtagh felt a frown forming between his brows as he listened.ย What didnโt Carabel tell me?ย โThatโsโฆa big ๏ฌsh.โ Even if they were exaggerating, Muckmaw was clearly enormous.
Cardus-chewer snorted. โYou could say that. The blasted thing is nearabouts a small whale. Itโs a sturgeon, see, or somethโn like a sturgeon.
Armored plates thโ size of a buckler on its sides, razor spines along its back, big old barbels coming o๏ฌ its mouth. The mouth is what gave โim his name.ย Muckmaw. He trawls thโ bottom of thโ lake, scooping up everything, feeding o๏ฌ it. Whenever he comes up, he has silt anโ mud streaming from his mouth, like smoke from a charcoal burner. Heโs been lurking about Isenstar for the past sixty years. And itโs true, heโsย mean. He fouls our lines and cuts our nets whenever he has thโ chance. Weโve seen him scoop up herons, cave in the sides of boatsโฆ. Not last year he knocked poor old Brennock right out of his ski๏ฌ anโ thrashed him near to death with his tail.โ
โMuckmawโs tail, not Brennockโs,โ the scarred ๏ฌsherman clari๏ฌed.
A bark of laughter escaped cardus-chewer. โYah. Brennock wouldnโt know what to do with a tail even if he had one.โ
Murtaghโs frown deepened. โCome now. Youโre yanking my cap, arenโt you? You canโt expect me to believeโโ
โEvery word of itโs honest truth, swear on me maโs grave,โ said cardus-chewer.
As he spoke, Murtagh saw a pair of boys slip into the Rusty Anchor from the scullery: the two urchins from earlier. The brothers took up on the hearth and sat together, bent in close conversation. Here in the tavern, Murtagh noticed an undeniable resemblance to the bird-chested man. He snorted.ย I should have ๏ฌgured as much. He wondered what sort of arrangement the brothers and father had with the barkeep.
Putting it from his mind, he said, โWellโฆif thatโs really how things stand, why hasnโt anyone caught or killed Muckmaw by now?โ
Cardus-chewer leaned forward with his elbows on the table, eyes strangely bright. โThe taleโs in the answering, so listen closelike, and donโt be doubting a word of it. Those sixty years ago, Haugin was โbout ten summers old. As he tells it, he anโ two other boys were out ๏ฌshing from thโ shore, couple miles north aโ here. It were him, Sharg Troutnose, and Nolf the Short. Both Sharg and Nolf are buried now, but they told thโ same story while they were โround and kicking.โ
He adjusted the plug of cardus in his cheek and downed a mouthful of beer. โAnywaysโโ
The third ๏ฌshermanโa thin, gaunt-faced man who had been silent until thenโsaid, โTell him about theโโ
โAight. Iโm getting to it!โ said cardus-chewer, visibly annoyed. He rolled his shoulders, taking an extra moment before resuming. The gaunt-faced man glared. โAnyways, thโ boys were ๏ฌshing, and theyโd caught a couple of trout, couple of sturgeon, and theyโd put โem out on thโ shore. Only, instead of giving โem a rap on the head to stop โem from thrashing, they decided theyโd sit and watch and see how long it took โem to stop wiggling about and which one lasted longest. It werenโt right, but, well, you know how boys can be.โ
Murtagh did. He stared into the depths of his beer.
โSo there they are, sitting and watching thโ ๏ฌsh gasp on thโ rocks, and a man walks up from behind โem. No horse, no ox, just walks on out of the wilds. Haugin says he were a strange-looking man. His hair were red, not red like my whiskers but proper red, like a cut ruby. Anโ his teeth were sharp and pointed like cat teeth.โ
A cold prickle crawled up the back of Murtaghโs neck as he listened.ย Durza. What had the spirit-possessed mage been doing in Gilโead all those years ago? Carrying out some miserable, blood-soaked mission for Galbatorix, no doubtโor at least, so Murtagh assumed. Much of Durzaโs history remained a mystery to him. Galbatorix had kept the existence of the Shade a secret from his court, and Murtagh had only learned of Durza during his travels with Eragon. Later, after the Twins had dragged him back to the capital and Thorn had hatched, Galbatorix had told Murtagh a few details about Durzaโs service, but only a few.
In retrospect, Murtagh was astounded by his own ignorance. And by the stupidity of his overcon๏ฌdence. He had truly believed he could defeat Durza in Gilโead, without magic and without the enhanced strength and speed that came with being a Dragon Rider.ย Idiocy. Durza would have killed me before he realized who I wasโฆ. At least I managed to put an arrow between his eyes. Although even that hadnโt been enough to kill the Shade. Only a blade through the heart could do that, as Eragon had later proved in Tronjheim.
Cardus-chewer was still talking: โSoon as they see him, thโ kids jumped up, tried to go after thโ ๏ฌsh. Theyย knewย what they were doing werenโt right, you see. But the man tells them tโ hold, anโ he asks โem what theyโre about. So they lay it out, all shamefaced like. And Haugin says the man smiled then, and he sat down by โem with his hand on thโ hilt of his sword and asks โem to watch and wait, โcauseย heโsย curious too. Only it werenโt a real ask, if โn you follow, but more of an order. Leastways, thatโs how Haugin tells it. So they sit, anโ they wait, and thโ ๏ฌsh go on gasping anโ ๏ฌopping until theyโve had their last mortal breath. All but one of โem.โ
โLet me guess,โ said Murtagh. โA sturgeon.โ
By the hearth, the brothers laughed as they played a game of jacks with colored pebbles.
โOr something as like a sturgeon,โ said cardus-chewer. He nodded sagely. โAnโ hereโs where it goes strange. The man, he picks up thโ ๏ฌsh, and he says words over it, only not in any tongue as makes sense. Old Haugin, he swears on his mamโs grave,ย swears, that he could feel the words in his bones, anโ Sharg and Nolf always accounted the same.โ
โMagic,โ said the scarred ๏ฌsherman.
โAye, magic. So the red-haired devil says his piece, and then he tosses the ๏ฌsh back in thโ lake, and he tells Haugin anโ Sharg anโ Nolf, he tells โem that since they were wanting to know which ๏ฌsh was the strongest, it were only fair to reward thโ survivor. Anโ he tells โem that since they were such naughty, naughty boys, theyโd have the ๏ฌsh a๏ฌicting โem and tormenting โem for thโ rest of their days. Then he walked o๏ฌ into thโ brush, anโ from that day since, thโ ๏ฌsh has been a terror to us all.โ
The scarred ๏ฌsherman poked cardus-chewer in the shoulder. โTell him the rest.โ
โIโm a-gettinโ to it! A tale has to be done properโฆ. Anyways, Muckmaw grows into his fearsome self, and once folks round here took notice, we tried tโ kill him, Oreth. Oh, we tried. But โtwerenโt no good. Hooks wonโt set in his mouth, yโsee, anโ spears just a-skate o๏ฌ thโ side of his armored plates, anโ arrowsโโ
โArrows bounce right o๏ฌ him,โ said the scarred ๏ฌsherman.
Cardus-chewer scowled at him for a second. โAye. Anโ the blasted ๏ฌsh is too smart tโ catch in nets or weirs. Before thโ war, Lord Ulreth set a bounty on Muckmaw. Two whole gold coins. Anโ our current lord, Lord Relgin, increased thโ bounty to four gold coins, if โn you can believe it. Four! That anโ you get a chance to join the guards if โn youโre so inclined.โ Cardus-chewer shook his head. โWonโt do no good, though. Muckmaw is a curse on our lake, a punishment for mistreating thโ ๏ฌsh, and thatโs thโ truth of it.โ
Murtagh silently swore at Carabel for not telling him the full story. Catching and killing Muckmaw was going to be far more involved than heโd ๏ฌrst thought.
โWhy havenโt you found a spellcaster to kill the ๏ฌsh for you?โ he asked. The scarred ๏ฌsherman snorted. โWhat? Them of thโ Du Vrangr Gata?
Theyโve no time for our concerns. Anโ Frithva, thโ hedge-witch down thโ way, wouldnโt be much help. Yโ need a wart taken o๏ฌ or a compress for a boil, sheโll ๏ฌx you up just ๏ฌne. But an enchanted ๏ฌsh set on murdering you? No, sir. For that yโ need an elf or a Rider.โ
โAnโ theyโre all busy elsewhere,โ said cardus-chewer sadly.
โBe glad of it,โ replied his friend. โTheir kind only cause rack and ruin.โ Cardus-chewer shrugged and drained the last of his beer. โAnโ now yโ know thโ truth about Muckmaw. Believe what yโ want, Oreth, but weโll swear to every word.โ He pushed back his chair and stood. โNow Iโd best be
o๏ฌ. Anraโs waiting for me, and sheโll not be pleased I tarried so late.โ
Murtagh raised a hand in a casual, careless gesture. โMy thanks for the story. Iโll admit, it seems unlikely, but Iโve heard stranger things on the road. If a man wanted to avoid getting eaten by Muckmaw, where ought heย notย go ๏ฌshing?โ
The scarred ๏ฌsherman snorted. โAs if. Thโ whole lake is his hunting ground. Wherโer you go, yโ have to watch, lest he chomp you.โ
Cardus-chewer said, โThatโs not quite thโ whole of it, and you know it, Horvath. Thereโs a marshy area just west of here, along thโ shore, nearwise where thโ elves cleared out thโ last of Galbatorixโs soldiers. It goes from cattails to water weeds, anโ there are rocks large enough for Muckmaw tโ
lurk beneath. Most times heโs somewhere in the vicinity during mornings anโ evenings.โ
โMuch obliged,โ said Murtagh.
The ๏ฌsherman nodded. โYouโre still a young man. Wouldnโt want tโ see olโ Rove measuring for your co๏ฌn โcause you tangled with Muckmaw, if โn you take my meaning.โ
And with that, he left.
|
Murtagh stayed to ๏ฌnish his mug of beer. It would have been odd if he hadnโt. While he sat and drank and thought about what heโd heard, bird-chest and his bearded friend bent together in close conversation. Then the hired swords slipped out of their chairs and quietly departed the tavern, keeping behind him the whole time.
He pretended not to notice. And he hoped his suspicions were misplaced.
By the ๏ฌre, the two boys were beginning to appear sleepy, though they were still laughing and playing. The taller had won the last three games of jacks, and the shorter was arguing the fairness of his pebble snatching.
Murtagh put down his mug and went to the ๏ฌreplace. The boys gave him a furtive look and then pretended to ignore him. He held out his hands, as if to warm them, and then checked to see if the barkeep had fallen back asleep.
The man slumped limp against the cask, his head lolled to one side on a boneless neck.
Good. As Murtagh turned to leave, he used his cloak as cover to pilfer a length of split pine from the woodbox next to the ๏ฌreplace. With the pine hidden against his side, he left the tavern.
The night air was a fresh respite after the stu๏ฌy interior. He stood a moment and enjoyed a view of the stars while he cleared his lungs.
He kept a ๏ฌrm grip on the hidden piece of wood as he started down the dark docks. Carefully, ever so carefully, he allowed his mind to open and
spread out, feeling for the touch of other peopleโs thoughts.
He noticed the two men just as they charged: one coming at him from the front, and the other out of an alley to his right. Bird-chest and his bearded friend, clubs in hand.
Murtagh hitched his step, throwing o๏ฌ the timing of his stride, ducked sideways, and drove his shoulder into the chest and stomach of the bearded man. The footpadโs breath left him with aย whoofย as Murtagh knocked him against the wall of the near building, a dry goods store with shuttered display windows.
Without waiting to see what happened to the man, Murtagh spun around and, with the length of pine, knocked aside bird-chestโs club and struck him on the collarbone.
The thin man collapsed with a gurgle and a clatter of jarred teeth.
The bearded man was still moving; heโd gotten onto his hands and knees and was struggling to stand.
A quick forward step, and Murtagh rapped him near the back of his skull. A rabbit blow, but not hard enough to kill.
โAhh!โ cried the bearded man, and he curled up, covering the back of his neck and head with his hands.
Murtagh paused for a moment to check for more enemies. Finding none, he looked back at the two unfortunate would-be thieves.
His teeth drew back in a snarl, his blood molten in his veins. He strode back to bird-chest and kicked him in the side. And again. And again. A shout of rage and frustration burst forth from him as he swung his leg.
One or more ribs cracked against his shin.
He knelt and grabbed the man by the hair. Bird-chestโs eyes rolled, and red bubbles popped at the corners of his mouth. His lips moved in a mute attempt to plead for mercy.
โBe a better father,โ Murtagh growled. โOr next time, Iโll beat you worse than this, you worthless sack of ๏ฌlth.โ
The man groaned as Murtagh dropped his head.
A purse on bird-chestโs belt caught his eye. He grabbed it, as well as the manโs dagger. It wasnโt a particularly nice dagger, but the blade appeared
sound enough, so Murtagh transferred the weapon into his empty sheath. โDa!โ
The cry sent a chill through Murtagh. He looked up to see the two urchins standing by the door of the tavern, anger and fright on their dirty faces.
โGet away from him!โ the smaller one shouted, and threw a handful of pebbles. Several bounced o๏ฌ Murtaghโs shoulders.
He stood. โYour father needs your help. See to him.โ Then he hurried away.
Halfway up the docks, with the tavern well out of sight, Murtaghโs gut clenched and his heart seemed to ๏ฌutter. He half stumbled before his stomach relaxed and his pulse resumed its usual pace. He swore.
He almost wished heโd killed the man. The children might have been better o๏ฌ because of it. Or maybe not. It was impossible to know. All he could be certain of was that he hated the man and his brutish stupidity.
He quickly made his way out of the city and hurried back across the dark land toward where Thorn was waiting. Once he was no longer concerned about any watching minds, he reached out to Thorn and told him what heโd learned.
Thornโs ๏ฌrst comment was,ย Can you go anywhere without getting into a ๏ฌght?
Doesnโt seem like it. It wasnโt my fault, though.ย Is it ever?
Sometimes. Anyway, weโd best ๏ฌnd Muckmaw, and then I can go open the door thatโs always closed. If anyone of note is listening to the rumors and gossip around the city, they might realize something is amiss and start looking for us.
What about the ๏ฌsh?
Murtagh hopped a slat fence as he continued across a ๏ฌeld toward Thornโs hiding place.ย I can break the wards Durza placed on Muckmaw. That wonโt be a problem. For that matter, Iโm sure you could bite right through its protective spells. The idea seemed to please Thorn.ย We just have to ๏ฌnd the ๏ฌsh.
Then letโs go ๏ฌnd it!
As soon as I get there. Iโm notโย Before he could ๏ฌnish, Murtagh felt a surge of motion and excitement from Thorn as the dragon took ๏ฌight.ย No, wait!
