Part 31 of Rob Donovan’s free serialised story set in the same world of Frindoth as his newly released book “Ritual of the Stones”. In this story we follow the journey of Pewtory the Lesser bard as he travels to Lilyon to witness the Ritual.
Pewtory the Lesser Bard part 31 – Three Tricks
Precisely twenty minutes after being unceremoniously dumped onto the street Pewtory found himself back in the Leaping Fox. Madame Lowager glared at him as Pewtory was ushered through the bar and into a private room by Damone’s friend. Damone moved to intercept Madame Lowager as she marched towards them and Pewtory heard the start of a heated exchange before the door was shot behind him. His final glimpse of the woman was her angry face rapidly changing to a deep shade of red that looked comical against her pink lips.
The room was small and basic. It had obviously been set up to host private games as situated in the centre of the room was a large oval table. It was polished mahogany and reflected how well Madame Lowager’s establishment was doing that she could spare such luxury in a side room. The rest of the room was plainly furnished. A painting hung on each wall depicting various locations in Boscalt. One image showed Kaynard Street – the Leaping Fox took precedence with its darkened windows and swinging sign. Underneath the picture a small fire place held a collection of logs. From the immaculate hearth Pewtory doubted the fire had ever been lit.
“Is this Damone’s personal private room or just a room used for the high end gamblers?” Pewtory asked Damone’s friend. The squat man did not respond, instead he moved to one of the chairs and pulled it out. He waved a hand over the seat indicating the Bard should sit. “Can you talk or are you just lost for words in the presence of such a great “Beat the red moon player?”
Again the Bard got no response and so he shrugged and sat in the chair. He did not want any more unnecessary beatings. He placed Willow and Wisp on the table but kept them covered. The man did not move away from the chair and remained uncomfortably close.
The bizarre moment was interrupted by Damone’s entrance. He shut the door behind him and then lent against it with a sigh. He closed his eyes as the raised voice of Madame Lowager could still be heard berating them thought the door. It seemed even an oak door could dampen her tirade.
Eventually the shouting ceased and Damone opened his eyes, looked around the room and smiled when he saw Pewtory.
“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Damone said. He seemed quite candid considering the stakes on hand. Sure, everyone was friendly before they killed you.
“Not at all. Your friend and I were just immersed in the most stimulating conversation but I guess it can wait.”
Damone frowned and looked at the smaller man in surprise. It was nice to see Damone did not get a response either. Pewtory could now sleep easily knowing it wasn’t a personal slight. Damone sat opposite Pewtory and placed his palms face down on the table.
“Right shall we begin? I don’t want to abuse Madame Lowager’s lenience too long. What are these questions?”
“I er, need a few items. Nothing special just two large glass jugs of water.”
Damone sighed. It was clear he did not relish the prospect of leaving the safety of the room just yet. Instead he once again looked to his friend.
“Do you mind?” I can’t be doing with facing her again.” The small man moved to the door immediately. “And bring some refreshments. The usual for me and…?
Damone looked at Pewtory expectantly.
“Water please,” the Bard said.
“And a jug of ale for him. I’m not going to drink alone.”
“The name is Pewtory the Lesser Bard,” Pewtory said as soon as the door closed.
“No point in telling me that. You’ll be dead in half an hour.”
“Good call on the ale then,” Pewtory said although he did not share Damone’s view quite so readily. An idea had begun to form in his eyes ever since he had put the fish on the table. He was reasonably confident it would work but it would depend on whether Willow and Wisp had forgiven him for deciding to obey the Stranger’s demand.
The door opened and in walked Mr. Talkative carrying a brown bottle, three glasses and a tankard of ale. He was followed by a servant boy carrying two large glass jugs of water. Pewtory recognised the boy as the sae one who had assembled the game less than an hour earlier. The boy placed the jugs down, frowned at Pewtory and then exited the room.
Damone accepted the bottle from his friend and then poured generous measures of an orange liquid into each tumbler. He moved a glass towards Pewtory and then gave another to the small man. Finally he raised his own glass and toasted Pewtory,
“To your limited health,” Damone said.
“May it not be so limited,” Pewtory responded and raised his own glass. The third man of course said nothing, he did not even raise his glass and so Pewtory followed Damone’s cue by downing his drink. The liquid burned all the way down and took the Bard’s breath away. He spluttered and was forced to chase the drink with a swig of his ale. Damone laughed and Pewtory saw the trace of a smile on the other man’s face.
When he had composed himself he was left with a pleasant citric aftertaste. If the scalding liquid was to be Pewtory’s last drink then the bard had no complaints.
“So let’s begin,” Damone said as if he had observed the tiresome pleasantries and was now eager to harm the Bard. All of a sudden Pewtory noticed the hilt of a dagger tucked into Damone’s belt and the way the man’s hand lingered close to it.
Pewtory stood and uncovered the top of the fish bowl, enough so that he could see inside, but the others couldn’t. Willow and Wisp circled inside with alacrity. Maybe they were willing. He tilted the bowl over one of the jugs and Wisp slid out into the jug, he then moved the bowl over his ale before placing it back on the table and covering it up.
The bug-eyed, crimson fish explored the limited surroundings of the jug. The way the glass bulged magnified Wisp’s bulbous eyes further making him look even uglier. Damone and his friend stared at the fish with a mixture of intrigue and revulsion on their faces.
“What we have here is my fish “Wisp,” say hello to Damone Wisp.” Wisp did not respond of course. “Be like that then. My three questions will involve your powers of observation and memory. I will alternate the jugs of water, ask you to turn around and then from memory tell me which of the jugs the fish is in. As you can see Wisp has quite a distinctive look so hopefully you will not find the challenge too difficult.”
Damone glanced at Pewtory warily. “There has to be more to it than that. You must take me for a fool, you will tamper with the jugs behind my back?”
“Your friend here will tell you if I touch the jugs in any way once your back is turned. Assuming that is he can talk? Is that acceptable?”
Damone licked his lips as he eyed the jug and then nodded. Pewtory confirmed that Damone was happy to continue and began to slowly swap the two jugs of water around. He deliberately started off slowly and then increased the speed of the rotations. Damone followed the act with a look of incredulity on his face.
“Now if you will turn around please?” Pewtory asked as he placed the jugs on the table. Wisp was in the jug to Damone’s left. Damone snorted and then turned round. The second he did so Pewtory flicked his index finger and Wisp jumped from the left jug to the right. His landing was smooth and he broke the surface with a small plop. Pewtory exhaled the breath he did not realise he was holding. Damone would have heard the splash but there was no reason for him to suspect that the noise was anything other than Wisp coming to the surface of the jug and then going back down again. Pewtory was pleased to see that the small man’s mouth hung wide open
“When you turn around, will Wisp be in the left jug or the right?” Pewtory asked.
“The left of course,” Damone said and turned round. He smirk turned to a frown as he stared at the jugs. “You swapped them. Did he swap them?” he turned to his friend.
“The fish jumped,” his friend replied. So he did speak. The revelation was almost as shocking as what Damone must be experiencing.
Loving this, hope that this story is eventually released in a book, as would b great to read