Dry Heat

Prologue

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a novel excerpt

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by Codi Mauch

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                 A storm raged over the small village just outside of the city, Draven. The roads were emptied and shops closed as people took shelter in the safety of their homes.  A lone traveler staggered through the bustling winds towards the one building with any sort of life in it.

 The local tavern flickered from the light emanating from the fireplace and several candles scattered among the tables. The bartender, a dwarf, wiped a table with a grimy strip of cloth, as an elf plucked away at his lute to the amusement of the few regulars that remained.  A dusty sign hung crooked over the bar, “Forgotten Ale”.

                Clarence Gideon sat in a musky corner. An older man, his silvery white hair reached down to his shoulders. It was unkempt, and matched his scraggly beard. His clothes had several layers of dirt and grime and looked as though they were held together by several shoddy patchwork jobs. He grimaced as he took a swig from a rather large tankard.

                “Problem Clarence?” The elf asked, a slight smirk splayed across his face.

                “Aye, this swill tastes of piss and vinegar. Dag, what cesspool did you pull this from anyway, eh?” The dwarf, Dag, gave a slight chuckle. He tossed the cloth over his shoulder.

                “Straight from yer arse, Gideon. You always get the same shite every night. Yer the only one who drinks that brew.”

                “Aye, that explains the smell then, eh?” A few patrons laughed at the friendly banter.

                Clarence chuckled, and choked down more of the questionable mead. The elf watched.

                “Why do you drink that brew anyway Clarence? It costs the same as all the others, which taste much better, at least over that one.”

                “Aye, but this be the strongest, and I come here to get drunk, eh? Not piss about with taste.”

                The elf smirked, “Ah, so the end justifies the means, hm?”

                “Aye, want a taste Zion? It might do you some good. I never see you drink anything. Why come to a bar to not drink, eh?”

                “Ah, well- “

                The door swung open, and in stepped a hooded figure. The drunkard's fell quiet upon viewing the design laced throughout the cloak. The newcomer lowered the hood, and Gideon was surprised to see it was a female. Most women tend to stay away from this place, as it is rather too coarse, smelly, and loud for anyone delicate. She had a pretty face, which was slightly covered by her messy, short black hair. Her clothes were soaking wet, leaving little puddles where she stood.

                She slowly looked around, each patron shrank away from her the moment her stare reached them. Gideon was unsure as to why everyone was acting strange. That was until she looked at him and locked gazes. He suddenly felt very uneasy, her silver eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. He stared down in an attempt to fade into the background, but felt his heart sink when he heard her walk right up to his table.

                “Is this seat taken?” Her hand gripped the backrest.

                “Nay, but there are plenty of empty tables to choose from, no?”

                “No.” She pulled out the chair and sat down. She looked over her shoulder, “Leave.” Chairs scraped against wood as the other patrons quickly rushed out the door without hesitation, ignoring the ferocious storm outside. The howling wind was cut off as Dag shut the door behind him on his way out.

                Clarence realized he was in a spot of trouble, but instead of fear, anger coursed through him. “Who the bloody hell are you? What do you want with me, eh? You come in here, order people around, and stare at me like I’m the devil himself! Eh? Are you deaf? I asked you a question! What do you want with me?”

                The woman calmly watched him and replied, “You know why I’m here.”

                Clarence felt his body go cold. Those words sobered him up a bit, and when he looked closer, he recognized the design on her cloak. “The royal insignia. Oh Gods, don’t tell me you’re the King’s enforcer?

                She smirked, “Of course not.” Clarence let out a sigh of relief. “I’m the Queen’s enforcer, the King’s is a male.”

                “Damn it all woman! Do you enjoy toying with me? What could the Queen possibly want with me, eh?”

                “Your life.”

                Clarence let the words sink in. “My life? What the bloody hell for?”

                “You’re a loose end, and we don’t like loose ends.”

                “So, you just kill me eh? What use is that to anyone? Surely not you, who has to bloody her blade to commit the act, nor Dag, who has to clean up the mess after it’s done, nor the dead, who’ll have to make room in the graveyard for me. What say you to just leaving me to the drink, which will surely do the job eventually anyway?”

                “It’s not up to me.”

                “Ah, you’re one of those that claims to not have a say in their own actions. ‘The Queen ordered it, not me!’ Aye, does that let you sleep warm and cozy at night? When you die, and face the Gods, you shall tell them ‘I never killed anyone, I was but a tool others used to do their evil deeds.’ Take it then! This place smells of shit anyways.”                  

                Clarence grabbed the half-full bottle and emptied it into the tankard. “Try a swig?”

                “No thanks, as you said, the drink will do it. It’s laced with poison, just in case you escaped.”

                Clarence spit out the drink. “Damned it all! Poisoned? You’re a cold shrew, you know that? When did you do that? What if someone else drank from it, eh?”

                “I had a local friend take care of it, and I know you’re the only one who drinks that swill around here. I’m thorough.”

                “If you already poisoned me, why the hell did you come here, eh?”

                “That poison is slow-acting and very painful. It was the only kind I could get at the time, you have my apologies for that. I came here to make your death a quick one, and for some information, if you have it.”

                “How slow?”

                “You have maybe three hours, if you stop drinking it.”

                Clarence took a swig, “Aye, a cold, heartless shrew.”

                “I’ll end it quickly for you, if you prefer.”

                “Aye, may as well.”

                “But first, I need information.”

                “And why the bloody hell would I help you, eh?”

                “I would think that’s obvious, you don’t help me, I’ll leave you to the miserable death that awaits you.”

Clarence paused and fidgeted with his tankard for a minute. “What do you want to know?”

                The woman reached into her pocket, causing Clarence to tense up. With a smirk, she withdrew her hand to show an ancient piece of parchment. She tossed it on the table.  Clarence cautiously opened it, and what he saw confirmed the worst of his fears.  She was here for that place. The parchment had a crude drawing of an archway that led into crumbling ruins.  The dark scribbles had a foreboding sense to them. When he finally looked up he saw her watching him expectantly.

                “Aye, I know it. You want to know where it is?

                “That, as well as what you saw.”

                “I didn’t see much. We were out- “

               “Who’s we?”

               “Damned it all woman! Let me speak! So, as I was sayin’, we were out in the forests, and by we, I mean a small band of us fellow villagers.  We were huntin’.  Our dogs and children were gettin’ attacked by something, a beast of some sort. So, we went into the forest to look for it, kill it if we could.  We get deep into the forest- “

               “Which forest?”

               “DAMNED IT ALL WOMAN, BUT ONLY LET ME SPEAK!”

               She smiled slightly, “I’m sorry, please continue.”

               Clarence sighed, “Aye, it was the Vryll Thicket. We were searching for the damned beast when we came upon that place, the one in the picture. They were some sort of ruins. I didn’t like that place, not one bit. If evil had a home, it would surely be those ruins. I wanted to leave, but the others thought they might find some sort of treasure. So, in they go, and I wait outside. It was quiet for a long time. Just when I thought of leaving the fools anyways, I heard them screaming. I never heard such terrible noise before, the shrieks, you wouldn’t believe it.”

               “What did you do?”

               “What the bloody hell do you think I did? I ran as fast as these old legs would carry me. Only when I was home, door locked and barricaded, did I finally stop. I didn’t leave my house for several days.”

               “What convinced you to leave?”

               “Ran out of drink.”

                The woman chuckled, then stood up and walked toward the door.

               “W-wait, what about me? You’re not keeping your word? Aye, just as I said, heartless. You can’t even have mercy on an old man.”

                She stopped and turned, “I’m not going to kill you, not when I still need you. When I return, you’re going to take me directly to this place. The Vryll Thicket is massive, I’ll never find it on my own. And before you think about leaving town before I get back, remember, I have a friend here to keep an eye on you, so don’t even bother trying.”

                “What? What about the poison you daft shrew? Have you got a cure then?”

                “Clarence, I never poisoned you, that was just me having a bit of fun.”

                “Fun? You’re a bloody psychopath! I suppose you’ll kill me if I don’t help then? You’re worse than the Dark Syndicate. Fine, I’ll show you the damned ruins! At least give me the name of my would be killer?”

                The woman turned back toward the door, “My name is Ava Laril. Now if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.  This place really does smell of shit.” She opened the door once again to the howls of the storm, stepped out and pulled it shut behind her, leaving a very confused and irritated Clarence in the musty old bar.