Beneath the Greying Cliffs

Part 2

Tagwar.

If ever a place existed solely to be a refuge for the unwanted, Tagwar was it. Caled had been sent here often enough by employers to know that the town didn't just have a dark underside, the entire town was dark. As were all of its inhabitants. Seedy and poor, Tagwar had been eclipsed by the growing prosperity of the neighboring coastal towns. It was a shadowy place, full of all that respectable people liked to pretend didn't exist.

Six days of hard riding had brought them this far. They reached the town limits after dark, after Manix's insistence that they find lodging there rather than risk another night in the open.

"Someone knows where we are," the mage had said. "Let's not make larger targets of ourselves than we need to be."

Caled could have told him that bedding down in Tagwar was pretty much the same thing as sleeping in a nest of Fieran. He hadn't bothered, though. The mage would find out soon enough.

"We need food and we need information," Manix announced.

Syellen, who was all but clutching the mage's sleeves like a child frightened of strangers, nodded. "And somewhere decent to stay. As few bugs as possible."

Caled snorted. "You've come to the wrong place, then. Tagwar's the last place you'll find clean lodging. Expect to wake up in the morning with maggots crawling out of your ears."

Syellen stared at him, aghast.

"Oh, quit teasing her," Hadrian muttered. He'd brought his horse up before the window of a closed-up blacksmith's and was trying to peer inside. "This town is your second home. Just take us where you always stay."

Caled smiled faintly and rode up beside the other man. He watched Hadrian's eyes meet his in the sooty glass. "That would usually be the stables, Hades. It's free there, you know."

He saw the faint ripple of annoyance pass over Hadrian's features. "Your services come so cheaply you can't afford a room? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised..."

"You didn't seem to mind the last time you were rolling around in hay," Caled replied, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed.

"Enough of this," Manix said impatiently. "Hadrian's right. You know Tagwar better than any of us, Caled. Lead the way."

Caled spared Hadrian a last mocking glance before turning. "You want information? Our best chance to find it is at the 'Bul'."

"The 'Bull'?" Syellen repeated.

"'Bul' as in 'Bulwark'. As shady a place as any in this town, but not as dangerous as some. I have some...acquaintances there."

Hadrian's snort revealed what he thought of Caled's 'acquaintances', but he remained quiet as he fell in with the others.

Darkness did not leave the streets deserted. Caled rode his horse with seeming nonchalance, but in truth his eyes and ears strained for suspicious movement. He returned the glares sent his way by passing strangers, even as his ears listened for the sound of echoing movement from the shadows. Many an unwary visitor had been waylaid on these streets. More than once, the attack had come at his own hand. He found the thought slightly amusing. At last, he brought them to a windowless building whose painted sign had long since faded to grey.

"Say nothing and meet no one's eyes," Caled warned after they had secured their horses. He gave a pointed look at Syellen. "You must remain out here."

"What? Why?"

Manix laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Caled's right. The presence of a female will warrant too much attention and distraction. I will remain with you."

Satisfied, Caled checked his weapons. "Stay behind me, sorcerer," he instructed Hadrian. "Don't open that pretty mouth of yours unless I tell you to. Magicking is a skill not always appreciated in these parts."

"You needn't worry," Hadrian replied dryly.

Sparing the grey-eyed man the briefest of looks, Caled pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was hot inside. Caled immediately felt the sweat break out upon his brow. Someone had stoked the fire in the hearth too high. The heat encouraged him to shed his cloak, but he refrained. A little discomfort was worth concealing his weaponry. He'd learned long ago that as much as a show of arms could prevent a fight, it could just as easily goad a fool into testing one's mettle.

He cast his eyes across the murky room, seeking familiar faces. It was more crowded than he would have liked. He knew many of the men who occupied the beaten wooden tables were displaced scum from Rhiad. It was yet another thing to thank Hadrian and Gavedon for.

Hoping his companion would follow direction, Caled strode to the scarred wooden plank that served as the bar. He nodded at the barkeep who turned.

"Caledon." The greeting held neither surprise nor welcome.

"It's Caled, now. " He held up two fingers. "And clean the scum off the top."

The barkeep chuckled and banged two mugs of ale onto the bar, sloshing half their contents onto the wood. "Wondered if I'd see that ugly face of yours again. Lot of rumors coming out of Rhiad nowadays."

Caled felt Hadrian stiffen behind him. The mercenary grabbed one of the mugs and half-turned, pushing it into the sorcerer's hands. "Drink this." Maybe he could manage to get Hadrian drunk enough to abandon him in some dark corner.

"What've you been hearing?" Caled asked conversationally, sipping at his bitter drink. It tasted worse than horse piss. He heard Hadrian coughing behind him and it made him smile.

The barkeep, emaciated to the point that his skin was mere tissue stretched over bone, shrugged. "Heard you were one of the only ones to survive. Rumor said you're on a mission to hunt down Gavedon."

"That much is true. Heard anyone who might be upset with that bit of news?"

"Not the one to ask about that." The barkeep threw an interested look over Caled's shoulder. "Not seen your friend before." He raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Caled grinned. "Not this time. The lovely here isn't a fan of my charms, are you, Hades?"

Caled smirked into his mug, imagining all that Hadrian would like to say had the circumstances been different. He could practically feel the anger pulsing in waves from the slender body behind him.

"We have a purpose here," Hadrian muttered beneath his breath. "There's no time for this."

As much as he hated to agree with the sorcerer on anything, Caled knew he was right. "Looking for Gam and Lio," he told the barkeep. "Seen 'em around"?"

The barkeep inclined his head toward the back of the room. Caled slapped down more coin than was necessary to pay for their drinks and nodded thanks. He turned and found Hadrian glaring at him.

"You need to lighten up, Hades."

"I don't appreciate being made the butt of your jokes."

Caled smiled coldly. "Get used to it."

The mercenary pushed past him and made his way to the bench that occupied the length of the far wall. He could see two figures there, hunched over plates of food.

"You two look as miserable as the last time I saw you," Caled said, dropping into a chair across the table from them.

Identical faces raised to look at him. Not identical, but close. The eyepatches they wore, covering the men's opposite eyes, added to the illusion.

"Caledon!" exclaimed the one with bushy copper hair and a hazel eye. A faint scar lined his cheek. "So the rumors are true. You did survive."

Caled tilted his chair back to balance onto its hind legs. "I go by Caled now."

The other man, with shoulder-length mousy brown hair and a blazing green eye, tilted his head. "Gavedon's Bane," he said, mysteriously.

"What's that?"

The green-eyed man nodded. "It's what people are calling you after your oath of vengeance."

"Gavedon's Bane..." Caled rolled the moniker on his tongue, deciding he liked it. He turned to Hadrian. "Well, what do you think of that, Hades? I'm famous now."

"It's you!" Caled whipped his head around to see that his scarred friend was staring at Hadrian with a widened hazel eye. The man's surprise turned into a suggestive arch of the brow as he studied Caled. "Sleeping with the enemy are we? You have an interesting choice of companions."

"I am not sleeping with him," Hadrian said quietly. The chill to his words made even Caled's skin crawl. "He has invited himself into my company without my consent."

The two men snickered. "Yep, that sounds about right for Caledo -- sorry, Caled."

It was the mercenary's turn to be irritated. "You're lucky I don't announce to the room who you are," he warned in a low voice, meeting Hadrian's heated glare. "Then see who's company is unwanted."

"The Scourge of Rhiad," murmured the green-eyed man, watching Hadrian with fascination.

Caled scowled. "What? Don't tell me they've named him as well?"

"You're right about keeping his identity a secret," the copper-haired man said. "More than one person here would be happy to gut him after what happened in Rhiad. And if you two are traveling together, I don't suggest going into Jeynesa, Caled. Since you left, it's a dangerous place for -- him."

"Hadrian," the sorcerer said coolly.

"I'm Gambel," said the one with the scar. "You can call me Gam."

His green-eyed friend was still staring at Hadrian enough that Caled wanted to slap him. "I'm Lio," he said eventually.

"Two wonderful liberators of other people's goods," Caled told Hadrian, amused by the identical looks of disdain sent his way.

"You're thieves."

Gambel winced at the blunt proclamation. "That's putting it a bit harshly, but, yeah." He grinned, his scar wrinkling. "Never been caught, though. 'Cept the once, and that wasn't on account of us lifting anything."

"Just spying," Lio clarified. He pointed at his eyepatch. "But that's a story for later."

"Yeah, make a nice bedtime story," Gam quipped.

Caled refrained from tossing his ale in his friend's faces. "If you're through, I need some information."

Gam and Lio immediately sobered. Their heads came together, eyepatches making them seem like reflections of each other. "What's up?"

"I've been out of touch since Rhiad. What have you heard about Gavedon?"

Lio shrugged. "Word has it something big happened out on that island -- what's it called?"

"Shard's Point," Hadrian supplied tonelessly.

Something escaped the deliberate blankness of his tone, making Caled eye him curiously. "No fond memories of home?"

"It's not my home," Hadrian said tightly.

Interesting.

"Go on," Caled urged the two thieves.

Gam and Lio were looking at Hadrian with matching looks of apprehension. Why the sudden unease? It irritated Caled. "What do you know that I don't? What happened on Shard's Point?"

"Probably should be asking him that," Gam said.

All three of them looked to Hadrian, who's face was as emotionless as stone. "What happened there isn't important to us right now," the sorcerer said. Looking at Caled, he added, "I'll tell you what you need to know privately."

Caled nodded. "Later," he said impatiently. He faced the thieves again. "I need to know about Gavedon. Where is he?"

"We heard that after he left the island, he made a brief stop beneath the Greying Cliffs," Gam said. "After that, it's anyone's guess. Haven't heard anything since."

Caled sat back, mulling over the information. "The Greying Cliffs? What's there?"

"The Dimorada," Hadrian said after a moment's hesitation. His grey eyes turned inward. Caled took the opportunity to study his companion. In the heat of the room, Hadrian's face was flushed. Caled had seen him look that way before, though the blush had been caused by other reasons...

He turned at the tug on his sleeve. Gam and Lio were leaning conspiratorially across the table. "What're you doing with him?" Gam asked in a whisper. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

Caled restrained himself from backhanding the scarred man. "If you think I'd sleep with him after what he did in Rhiad, you're crazy," he growled. "This is purely business."

"Yeah? Then why are you looking at him the same way you were back when we caught you both in that loft?" Gam sneered.

"He and his father murdered every friend I had in Rhiad," Caled said with tightly leashed anger. "Never forget that, because I won't."

The two thieves looked at each other, silent communication passing between them.

"It's time we left."

For once, Caled was grateful for the sorcerer's dousing affect. Gam and Lio immediately sat back with innocent looks upon their faces.

"Where are you staying? We've got a room upstairs if you don't mind sleeping on the floor," Lio offered.

"There are two others with us," Hadrian told him.

Caled rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck. It was the first time Hadrian had seen the mercenary show signs of weariness. "The 'Bul' is pretty busy tonight. I wonder how difficult it'll be to get two rooms."

"I'll go check for you," Lio said unexpectedly. "Maybe I can get a room for your companions and you two can stay with us. We can trade information." He slid from behind the table and wove his way back to the bar.

Gam smacked his forehead with his open palm. "Funny how quickly he can act when his cock gets involved, eh?"

He and Caled laughed. Hadrian looked away, understanding that he was the source of their humor. He forced himself to ignore them, struggling for calm. He was hot and it was making his temper short. He curled his hands into fists beneath the table, feeling the restraint of the gloves like an oppressive embrace. There were too many people in the room, too many unwashed bodies. The stench of stale ale and rancid meat threatened to turn his stomach.

He'd spent his entire life on Shard's Point. Raised in the castle built by the Order of the White Shard, he'd known no other existence. It had been a cold, sterile environment but at least it had been safe and clean. Never mind that it had been lonely. At least Hadrian hadn't had to put up with the riffraff in whose company he now found himself.

He traced the black circle of a stain that had long since become a part of the wooden table. This was Caled's existence. Caled's home. It struck home the reality that Hadrian and the mercenary were as different as two people could possibly be.

Why did it matter?

"It doesn't," Hadrian said to himself.

"Having conversations with yourself?" Caled teased with a sneer. "Don't make me question your sanity more than I already do, Hades."

"Stop calling me that," Hadrian snapped, lifting his mug.

Caled smiled thinly. "Sure thing. Hades."

Hadrian forced himself to swallow a mouthful of that vile concoction that passed for ale. Maybe he could drink himself to oblivion and find that the rest of their group had continued on without him. Wishful thinking...

He swallowed more of the ale, holding his breath so he wouldn't have to taste it. He fished something out of his mouth, but didn't look at it. He'd rather not know what had been floating in his drink. He looked around.

The Bulwark was full of people. Hadrian couldn't fathom what would bring such a motley lot of obviously unsociable people together like this. Then again, maybe he could. He could already feel the ale coursing through his system, making his head fuzzy. He wasn't unaccustomed to drinking, but this bordered on a drug.

He looked out over the room again, noting how many of the slumped bodies looked as though they'd been here all day. Empty mugs and plates were piled around the unconscious figures as though they were part of the decor. What kind of an existence was this? What did these people do for a living?

His derision began to fade as he looked down at his gloves. Nevermind what these people did to support themselves. What did he intend to do? There was nothing for him to go back to on Shard's Point. His home was destroyed. He had no family. And without means to magick--what could he do? He had no trade.

He turned on the bench, sliding his eyes to the two men in conversation beside him. In this, he envied Caled. The mercenary would never want for work. The trade in Death was brisk. Hadrian idly fingered the dagger strapped to his thigh. He could use it for gutting game, but that was it. It served more as hopeful warning, if anything. Maybe he could convince Caled to teach him how to use it. So that instead of a pretend threat, he could pose a real one. Finding work would be much easier if he had the means to protect himself.

"Whatever happened to her?" Caled exclaimed. "Don't tell me you just left her there?"

Gam nodded and launched into a colorful story about his latest bed mate.

Hadrian watched them, wanting to smile at the scarred man's story, but knowing better. He was not their friend. He considered it odd that Caled had not already tried to kill him. The need was there on the mercenary's face. It shadowed his every word to Hadrian. That, and the other.

Hadrian finished off his drink, leaving a small puddle at the bottom of the mug because he dared not swallow what floated in the dregs. Caled bothered him. The hatred was wearing, yes. But Hadrian found himself equally disturbed by the shades of innuendo that colored the mercenary's words sometimes. Hints of something sexual.

Despite the hatred that often darkened his face, Caled was a handsome man. Hadrian did not fool himself that he thought otherwise. What had attracted him to Caled many months ago still existed in the mercenary today. It was easy sometimes, as he watched Caled laugh at something his friend said, to think that Caled's teasing held a note of truth. Easy to hope that maybe the animosity between them could be overcome by rediscovering their past together.

Caled glanced over and caught Hadrian staring at him. The blond's lips twisted scornfully.

Easy, but not likely.

Hadrian looked away, angry to be caught looking at the other man. Caled hated him and had good reason to. Hadrian needed to remind himself that. And if he couldn't, all it took was one word from the mercenary to drive home the point.

The other thief, the green-eyed one, had returned. "No luck," he told them, sliding in beside Gambel. "The only place left to stay is in the store room in the back. Barkeep has an extra pallet there he was willing to rent me." His eye passed back and forth between Caled and Hadrian. "Your friends could stay there and you two could sleep with us, if you wanted."

Caled nodded. "That'll do fine. One more night falling asleep to the sound of Syellen's voice and I'll stab myself through the heart."

"Would that we were so lucky," Hadrian muttered.

Gam laughed in surprise. "No love lost between you two, eh?"

"How many times do I have to tell --"

Hadrian stood, not caring to listen to Caled explain yet again how much he hated the sorcerer. "I'll go fetch the others." He turned to Lio, finding the man's single eye intent upon him. "The storeroom, you said?"

Lio pointed. "Behind the bar. I checked on it myself. Cleaner than our room upstairs."

Hadrian left them, feeling a weight lift as he left Caled's company. The man was too distracting for Hadrian to ever feel comfortable around him.

The step outside was a welcome one. The sweat instantly cooled upon his brow, clearing his head somewhat. Their horses were tethered where they'd left them, but the two mages were nowhere in sight.

"Here."

Hadrian turned to find black eyes gleaming in the dark beside the building. A soft murmur told him that Syellen was behind.

"There's room for you two to stay in the storeroom," Hadrian told them. "It was the best we could do. Caled and I will be sleeping with two friends of his."

"Any information?" Manix asked, stepping from the shadows. Syellen followed close behind, her hood drawn up to hide her hair and features.

"Gavedon visited the Dimorada after he left Shard's Point." Hadrian shrugged. "I doubt that they are involved, considering their inability to magick, but perhaps he helped them in some way. That's the only news we have."

"The Dimorada," Manix repeated with disgust tingeing his voice. "Unstable and dangerous. I do not relish visiting them."

"Try dealing with them your entire life," Hadrian said darkly.

"They're obsessed with you, aren't they?" Syellen had pushed forward and was studying the sorcerer. "They worship you. You and Gavedon both."

"They think Gavedon is their god," Hadrian concurred. "They are obviously mad."

Manix laughed softly, watching him. "Indeed. Well, lead the way, Hadrian. It's best that we find rest since we have much traveling yet if we are to make the Greying Cliffs before the season turn."

It was a journey Hadrian did not look forward to in the least.