Page 24 of Song of the Shadow Prince
“Warlock?” I raised one brow. “What does that mean?”
She batted my question away as if people discussed warlocks all the time. “Oh, he practices sorcery. He’s the male equivalent of a witch.” Maeve leaned forward and whispered, “He was once favored by Emperor Valenor, who also happens to be Damien’s father, but rumor has it that the emperor asked him to do something dreadful and he refused. As punishment, Emperor Valenor took his eye.” She pointed to her left eye. “Now he spends his time gambling the scant gold he has left and getting drunk at The Broken Tankard. He’s a regular here.”
My ale was forgotten. I tilted my head to the side in contemplation. The guy was a witch… well, a wizard, warlock, whatever. The point was, he did magic. Could he get me back home? I leaned forward and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Is he powerful?”
Maeve nodded. “Oh, yes. He is the most powerful warlock we’ve seen in the last few centuries. It was why he was recruited by the emperor. Unfortunately, fate was not on his side. His talents are now wasted.” She sighed and took another sip of her ale.
I glanced back at Garrick, who was now shaking his dice with determined fury. If he was as powerful as Maeve claimed, maybe he could help me. But first, I needed to figure out how to approach him without looking like a complete lunatic.
The atmosphere in The Broken Tankard was electric as the men prepared to bet again. Across the room, the crowd roared when Garrick slammed the dice down on the table. The anticipation was palpable as the group of men fervently watched the dice spin. Money rapidly exchanged hands and the tension reached a fever pitch.
Maeve raised an eyebrow at my untouched ale. “You’re not going to drink that?”
I ripped my attention away from the heated exchange on the other side of the room and glanced down at the frothy mug with a resigned sigh. “I’m not much of a beer person, but what the hell.” I took a small mouthful and grimaced at the bitter taste. “I’ve had worse.”
Maeve chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. Now, back to Garrick. Why the sudden interest?”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just curious. If he’s that powerful, it seems like a waste of his talents to be stuck here.”
“It is, but it’s his choice.” Maeve and I glanced toward the crowd of men as they shouted and cheered. It seemed likesomeone had won… or lost. “I just hope he hasn’t lost his place,” she whispered.
I furrowed my brows. “How come?”
Maeve turned to look at me. “It’s the only thing of value he has left – a glorious piece of land the emperor bestowed on him before they had their falling out. I believe he’s currently renting it out, which is how he makes his money.”
My mind whirred with these details. “I’m assuming this place is in the Northern District?”
She nodded. “Precisely. Many have tried to buy it from him, but he refuses to budge. I’m surprised he’s using it as a bet.”
Just then, one man’s voice boomed above the din. “You lost, Garrick! Now give me the deed!” Maeve and I turned our heads toward the noise. “A deal is a deal. You can’t squelch on it now! Not in front of so many witnesses.”
Garrick stood, wearing a mix of sewn rags that had seen better days. He stumbled through the crowd, waving off the man’s claim. “I’ll get you the money. A hundred thousand gold leaves, you said? Don’t worry, I’ll have it to you by tomorrow night.”
The furious winner pushed through the crowd and roughly grabbed Garrick’s shoulder, spinning him around. “I don’t want the gold leaves,” he growled. “I want the deed!” His mottled face and clenched hands declared his intention to pummel Garrick, and it didn’t appear as if he would meet much resistance. Garrick was all skin and bones under the rags he wore. Unless this was like Harry Potter and he was about to bust out a wand andAvada Kedavrathis fool, he didn’t stand a chance.
Maeve whipped her attention to me when I slowly stood, but my gaze was glued on the men closing in on the two combatants. It seemed our winner brought a few friends. This wouldn’t end well for my new friend Garrick. At least I hoped he’d become my new friend.
“My lady!” Maeve whisper-yelled as she reached for my sleeve and attempted to pull me back down to my chair. “What are youdoing?”
I smirked as I continued to assess the room. “I’m getting my ass home.” Before the other guy’s cronies could jump into the fray, I slid between him and Garrick, leaving my back to the warlock. Plastering on a winning smile, I offered the burly winner a wink. “Come on, mate. Don’t ruin the fun. You heard him – he’ll get you the equivalent, which is a hundred thousand gold leaves. Honestly, that doesn’t sound so bad, if you ask me. Am I right?” I asked the crowd that had formed around us.
A chorus of murmurs rippled through the cluster of men, with most agreeing with me and a few arguing thata deal is a deal.
The winner glared and sized me up and down like I was a wandering prostitute from The Gilded Serpent down the road. “Stay out of this, sweetheart. The men are talking.” With a condescending grin, he placed a hand on my shoulder to push me out of the way.
Sensing his intention, I grabbed his hand and twisted it, forcing the burly man to bend at an odd angle to relieve the pressure. His pained scream quieted the noisy tavern until you could hear a pin drop. I tightened my grip. “Man, you really should keep your hands to yourself. I don’t like it when people touch me without my permission.”
The winner’s face turned beet red, partially from pain but mostly from embarrassment. “You’re making a mistake, wench!” he hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at me with pure malice. He signaled to his cronies. “Get her!”
Four brawny men stepped forward, cracking knuckles and stretching necks, looking like they would enjoy beating up a woman far too much. I released the winner’s hand and squaredup to face the incoming goons, ignoring the man as he stumbled back. Fighting in a dress? This was going to be interesting.
The first guy lunged without warning, swinging a meaty fist aimed straight at my head. I ducked and felt the rush of air as his fist whooshed past. With a swift uppercut, I caught him under the chin and sent him staggering back into the arms of the jeering crowd.
The second thug was quicker, already swinging a wooden chair in my direction. I sidestepped and grabbed the chair mid-swing, yanking it out of his hands. Spinning it around, I used it to block a punch from the third guy before smashing it over the second guy’s head, splintering it into pieces.
Seeing an opportunity, the third guy came at me with a low tackle, trying to sweep me off my feet. I leapt into the air, my dress fluttering around my legs, and landed on his back, then rode him down to the floor like a surfboard. I jumped up and delivered a swift kick to his ribs that made him curl up in pain.
The fourth guy, apparently the smartest of the bunch, quietly stood back to watch the melee before deciding to jump into the fight. He smashed a bottle on a nearby table and advanced slowly, jabbing the jagged glass in my direction with a sinister sneer. I grabbed a mug from the same table and flung it at his head. The ceramic shattered on impact and disoriented him long enough for me to close the distance between us. Placing my fingers on the pulse points of his wrist, I twisted and forced him to drop the bottle before delivering a sharp elbow to his nose. Cartilage crunched and blood spurted as he stumbled away and clutched his face.
