Rise and Shine
The dull throbbing slowly crawled over Nicodemus’s skull. He tried to shut his eyes tighter to fight off the waking world, but only magnified the piercing ache. Laying there in pain, he fought with himself, positive that rousing himself would increase his agony. Finally, his bladder tolerated his idleness no longer, and he pulled himself over to his chamber pot.
Despite all reason, sitting up actually did help his headache. At the edge of the bed, though, as he relieved himself, nausea crept into his gut. In a mad rush he dropped his mouth over the nearly filled chamber pot and loosed a torrent of bile, splashing a vile mixture of fluids over the lip and spilling onto his feet.
“Ugh.”
His clothes were strewn about the room. Stumbling deliberate and heavy footed, he made his way around dressing himself awkwardly. He fought with a boot until he realized he was forcing it onto the wrong foot. He struggled for several minutes, cloak half on, trying to find the other sleeve behind his back. He picked up his belt, wrapped it around his waist, and found it did not fit him at all. It was not, in fact, his belt at all.
It was actually feminine in design.
Through the fog of his mind, it slowly came to him.
It was Sarah’s.
The silver belt buckle felt strange in his hands. “Curious,” he mumbled, turning it over a few times, wondering how it had gotten…
A smile cracked his dry lips. Then, as quickly as it had come, it vanished as his jaw sagged and his eyes widened. “Eternal Storm!” he cursed. “She knows…” Although fully clothed now, Nicodemus felt profoundly naked.
Coming down the creaky wooden steps into the bar room, Nicodemus paused at the foot. Just to the right, in the private room, four individuals sat at the longtable staring at him, obviously waiting for his arrival.
“Good morning, dark one,” the shaman spoke softly.
“Yes,” said Sarah, “Good morning,” and smiled.
Nicodemus eyed her for a moment. Even though her amusement was obvious, she still was impossible to read. What in the Hells’ was she thinking? Could she have been too drunk herself to have noticed his… peculiarity? A chill ran down Nicodemus’s spine, something that did not often happen. What if she did notice; what if she enjoyed it?
“I trust,” he searched, “you slept well?”
“Very,” Sarah returned.
He cracked his neck and diverted his eyes.
At the longtable was Sarah in her leather riding outfit, the shaman wearing only her tattoos and a few furs, Lady Balthes in a traveling robe, and a small cloaked figure with a moist snout and whiskers poking from beneath its hood. The nin’ki quietly sipped broth from a steaming mug.
“So,” Nicodemus ventured, “I suppose we’re all in agreement then.”
The room continued to stare at him as he stood in the threshold.
“About the arrangement. Ready to set out?”
Sarah, still smiling, scratched her ear.
Lady Balthes, with a cocked eyebrow and a look of disdain, “All you said last night was that we were to meet you here in the morning. Remember?”
“Ah yes. I was testing you. Congratulations. You are indeed a canny group.”
“So,” Lady Balthes began, “what exactly is your proposal? Sarah here seems to think you intend on riding out, and are seeking weathered company.”
Nicodemus sat down. “Indeed.”
“Well, I for one have a few terms. As you may know, I am Lady Balthes.”
Nicodemus assured her that he was aware of this.
“And, being of such high standing, I will not agree to travel with the rat.”
The shaman turned to Lady Balthes, darkening her brow. “Excuse me?” She spoke with a heavy accent.
“You heard me. I will not be seen leaving town with a ratling. It is unacceptable.”
“You fear the nin’ki then?” the shaman mocked.
“Lady Balthes fears nothing. I do not expect a primitive such as yourself to understand, but those creatures are loathsome and filthy. Aside from sanitary concerns, traveling with a rat would blemish my reputation.
“I do not expect someone as ignorant as you to understand, but I too am of high standing among my people, and a rat is a symbol of prosperity, cunning, and good fortune.”
“I don’t need a good luck charm; what I bought last night will suffice for that.” She lowered her right hand to her side.
“Pray to your gods that was not a threat,” the shaman shifted in her seat and glared.
Nicodemus put a hand on her shoulder, “Now, Miss…”
“Tessijah,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off Lady Balthes.
“Ms. Tessijah, I called everyone here for a reason. Perhaps, Lady Balthes, you can agree to this.” He dropped his bag of coins on the table. It made a loud thump as it hit the wood. “Three-hundred gold apiece, for an escort to Tremali Keep.”
There was silence. He continued.
“I need all of your talents. It is not an easy road, and we cannot dally.”
Everyone now stared at the bag of coins. Everyone, that is, except Sarah. “Sounds good to me,” she said wistfully. “Anyone want less?”
Lady Balthes screwed up her lips, but still watched the sack on the table. “A mere three-hundred? I can make that in a night of gaming.”
Sarah turned to her. “Maybe, but not here. Not after last night. I imagine you’re going to want to move along to the next burg, and why not grab some cash for your trouble?”
The Lady toyed with the idea for a moment, then looked back at Sarah. “I have no qualms about guiding the good Sir along the road. If we’re cutting through the wood and the marsh to Tremali, though, I want a guarantee that I’ll get an even share of whatever we find inside.”
“Inside?” Nicodemus looked at Lady Balthes through a new lens. “Really?”
“It’s dangerous. Everyone knows that. They say no one’s been there in quite some time, and no one has plumbed it’s inner depths. If there’s something there worth hiring twelve bills worth of help for, I want a piece of it.”
“Ah. Well, I’m sure we can divvy up our discoveries to everyone’s liking.” Nicodemus suppressed a chuckle.
“Still, your selection of mates, good Sir, bothers me. Sarah, what do you feel about taking this thing…” she made to motion over at the nin’ki, but faltered when she saw the ratling was no longer at the table. “Where did he go?”
Tessijah, through clenched teeth, “Perhaps you’ve offended him.”
“Well, good riddance anyways. I’m your Lady then.”
Nicodemus stood. “Tessijah, are you in?”
She looked down at her folded hands, then back up. “I am curious to see what the spirits have in store for you, dark one. I will follow, for now.”
“Well, hopefully if the spirits have anything too gruesome in store for me, you’ll do more than follow.” Nicodemus smiled at his joke, but stopped when he simply met her unchanging gaze. “Right. To Tremali Keep. I hope no one minds if I make a brief visit to the local Cryptorium?”
Sarah raised a finger, “Regretful to inform you, Mr. Nicodemus, but Cankleton is a bit small for a Cryptorium.”
“It is?” Nicodemus was shocked. “I could have sworn…”
“Two years ago it… after the wolfen attacks. The county magistrate has failed to raise enough funds to erect a new one, and Senator Dolos has prided himself on keeping state spending down in this region. A man of your talents is thusly a rarity in these parts.”
“You don’t jest. I didn’t realize…”
Sarah shrugged. Then looked Nicodemus up and down. He felt her eyes fall on his midsection. Unconsciously, he readjusted his cloak.
“I suppose then a simple graveyard will suffice.”