Sleight of Hand
6
Minstrel
AFTER SLEEPING WARM, tightly holding each other in our shelter, we set about our next ruse. We needed wood blocks.
When you don’t have stringed instruments or wind instruments, you must make do with percussion. We didn’t have time to carve a flute and couldn’t afford a cithara. I’d learned a few Chaos folk songs and found that the people loved any song about the Slaver War and King Sid or King Malcolm. You could about make up anything you wanted and they’d eat it up, or so we believed. We made a series of wood blocks and tuned them as best we could. For most people, a woodblock makes a high or a low sound. They don’t understand the finer tuning anyway. When we had a collection that Lisa could grab and strike with a stick, we decided it was time to get ready to go to town.
I used charcoal to paint a mime’s eye makeup on Lisa. I even outlined her lips, being careful not to get the charcoal onto the part that she might lick or that might touch her food. The truth was that she looked more like Batman’s Joker than a mime, but we could sell it. It was my intent to see that she never spoke and gave away the fact she was a woman.
It was nearing dark when we made our way back into the town and went directly to the inn. It was easy to identify both Ariel Songbird and her keeper, Jules. Ariel kept the bar and Jules kept order. Another serving wench shuttled food and drink to the tables. We went through the common room as I thumped along on my canes. I went straight to the innkeeper.
“Might two poor entertainers sing and dance for a meal?” I whined.
“You’ve no instrument to play,” Jules growled. His voice was a tenor, but had been damaged badly enough that it sounded raspy. I could see the marks of a slave collar still on his neck. “And how does a man on sticks dance?” The room laughed. The innkeeper coughed and spat a black wad from his throat at the fireplace.
“We have a room full of instrumentation and a dance on sticks should surely be entertaining, no?” I said.
“Jules,” Ariel said. She smiled at the innkeeper. “Let them.”
“Sure,” he growled. “If the customers don’t throw you out first, I’ll give you a bowl of stew.”
Lisa made a show of putting five wood blocks on the bar and drawing forth her baton. She made a show of arranging the blocks then picking each up to strike. When she was satisfied, she raised the baton and started conducting. Whatever she was doing, it had nothing at all to do with the song I launched into. May he forgive me, but I started singing about how King Sid had slain seven giant slavers with a single blow of his sword. I remembered a tailor who had done something like that. Lisa picked up wood blocks and struck them randomly as I sang my epic tale to the tune of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’
A pinch was thrown toward us and Jules picked it up and placed it on the bar behind me.
“More!” bellowed a drunk in the corner. “Dance!” called another.
“Maestro!” I said, waving at Lisa. Again, she waved her baton randomly and struck a block. I started singing about a battle that was recorded in Seth’s journal and then turned it into a lively romance. Lisa picked up the tempo on the blocks, following me as I tapped my canes on the floor. I hooked a stool and laid across it, making it look like my torso was suspended on the canes. I manipulated a second stool with the sticks as if I were dancing with the four-legged furniture. There was applause as I finished and a few more pinches were tossed my direction. Jules gathered them and placed them on the bar.
“Now my friends, let me tell you the tale of a hero. You may never have heard of him, but his name was Seth. The story says that Seth came from a faraway kingdom to seek adventure and found a fair maiden held captive in a tower. Here is what happened,” I said. Lisa again waved her baton and began striking the blocks. I started setting a tempo by tapping my cane on one of the stools and she soon fell into the same rhythm.
And I started the Rapunzel Rap.
I used the canes to tap on everything I could reach, occasionally planting one and spinning around it as I came to rest facing another table. I clanked a couple of mugs and a pitcher, the bar top, stools, and the top of a fop’s head. Gently, of course. I made a hollow knocking sound with my mouth as I tapped. The room was laughing and soon joined in the chorus, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” The story went on some time and I kept it going until I couldn’t think of anything else to suggest. I’d had her let down her armpit hair, her pubic hair, and even her mustache. The whole room was laughing when I finally used the canes to tap out an elaborate drum solo on the nearest table and end it.
Holy shit, I was exhausted!
There was a rain of pinches and Jules gathered them up on the counter as Lisa and I sat and collapsed with our heads forward. There was laughter and cheers. When we lifted our heads, two bowls of stew were in front of us and a pile of pinches.
“Well done, Master Minstrel,” Ariel laughed as she poured us each a mug of watered wine. “I’ve not heard such music on Chaos. You must come from far away.” I could see the glint in her eye. Just a touch of hopefulness?
“Yes. Over sea, over dale. We must hit the dusty trail,” I sang.
“And what are your names?”
“I am called Lincoln,” I said. “My trusty director is Lees.” I lowered my voice. “I fear he has no more voice than brains.” Lisa pulled out her baton and rapped me smartly on the head.
“Well, Lincoln Minstrel,” said Jules, “do you wish to trade some of your income for a room for the night?”
“Ah, you just want my gold,” I squeaked.
“I was thinking about keeping you from brigands. Two rather nasty ones saw what you were earning and it was enough to put stars in their eyes. I fear they are waiting in the street for you,” he said. “If at all possible, I would like you to be alive to sing again tomorrow. My Ariel enjoyed your performance.” He reached across the bar and stroked Ariel’s cheek. She smiled and moved to caress his hand with her face.
Fuck! She’s in love! This was not the kind of rescue I was thinking of.
“Thank you for your kindness,” I said. “We have a comfortable bed some way from here, but would gladly exchange a quad for a blanket.”
“Well, I can arrange that, I suppose.” The inn was beginning to empty of all but the devoted drinkers. I didn’t want to be around if the late-night crowd got rowdy.
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said. “With that and your good wishes, we will take our leave. Let everyone know that Minstrel Lincoln will have a return engagement at dinner tomorrow.” Jules shuffled off as I stuffed half the coins in my vest pocket and gave half to Lisa, leaving four on the bar. He brought back a blanket that I thanked him for.
“I would leave out the back if I were you, and stay away from the main street,” he said. We did as he suggested and when we crossed near the stable, we could see the rogues waiting in shadows where they could see the entrance to the inn. Lisa and I slipped out of town and into the woods. We agreed not to have a fire, just in case they were watching the woods. We huddled beneath our blanket in a tree not far from our lean-to.
It seems our extra precaution was not necessary. We didn’t see or hear anything creeping around all night and spent an uncomfortable time trying not to fall out of the tree and break our backs. Been there, done that. We climbed down and I immediately fell over. I was actually pretty stable on my legs now, but dropping from a branch seven feet up was a surprise. Of course, Lisa was all over me and that was pretty nice. I held her down and kissed her soundly.
We didn’t bother building a fire. I tore a bandana in half and we sacrificed it to the toilet gods. Then we went downstream a ways and washed the pieces as thoroughly as possible.
“What are we going to do?” Lisa finally whispered.
“I think I’m going to have to redo your makeup and then we’ll go into town and try to get a few supplies. Maybe I can get a meal for a magic trick,” I said.
“I know that part,” Lisa hissed. “What are we going to do about them? They’re in love. Did you see the way she looked at him? And touched his hand? We can’t just kidnap her and take her away.”
“You’re right. Which means that we don’t have a rescue and we are stuck here. So, we need to start acquiring the things we need to survive. They liked us there. Let’s see if they’ll give us a job,” I said. “First, food.”
We managed to exchange a pinch for a loaf of bread and some cheese. As we slowly munched on the dry, gag-you-in-the-throat breakfast, we wandered back toward the inn and both decided we needed some watered wine or we’d have bread and cheese stuck in our mouths all day—if we didn’t choke. It was someone different behind the bar and I didn’t see Ariel or Jules around at all. I checked to make sure we were in the same inn.
“No outside food or drink,” the bartender snapped. I shoved the crust of bread in my pocket and put a pinch on the counter asking for watered wine. He scowled and then set a pitcher and two mugs in front of us, snatching away the pinch.
“Where are Jules and Ariel?” I asked.
“Not your concern now, is it?” he growled.
“No. I guess not.” Something was wrong. I glanced around and saw three men playing cards. No one else was in the common room. It was early, but in a town this size, there was always someone in an inn. I wondered if there had been no guests last night.
“You!” shouted one of the men at the table, pointing at me. “We need a fourth for our game. Bring your drink and your money.” I shuffled over, making a big show of using my canes to walk and have Lisa bring up the drinks.
“I’m beggin’ your pardon, kind sir. I cannot play cards,” I said.
“We’ll teach you.”
“Oh no. It’s not that I don’t know how to play cards. I can’t do it. I’m not allowed.”
“Simpleton!” the fellow bellowed. He looked at Lees. “Who doesn’t allow you to lose your money at a good honest card game?”
“Well, that’s the problem, sir. When I sit at cards, it is no longer an honest game. I cheat.” The three men laughed. Well, that was a good sign.
“There,” said a tall, skinny player. “There is a pinch that is yours if you can cheat me out of it. If I catch you whatever is yours is mine.”
“Hardly worth it for a pinch,” I said. “A quad, maybe.” He laughed and took another drink of his wine. Then he pushed out a quad. “Each,” I said. The big guy who had called me over in the first place scowled. A small weasel-looking guy sat between them and said nothing, just squinting at me. But he was the first to toss a quad in the pot. The big guy followed suit. I reached for the deck of cards and spun them in a circle, fanning them from the center. If they’d been smart, they’d have grabbed their quads right then and run. As I gathered the cards back into a pack, I riffled them and separated the ace to the bottom. I did a false shuffle, cut the cards, palmed the ace, and arced the cards from one hand to the other. The barman had wandered over to watch over weasel’s shoulder.
I handed the deck to Long Tall. “Cut?” I asked. He cut the cards. I nodded toward Weasel and he grabbed the deck and shuffled them then pushed the deck to Bellower. He cut and pushed the deck to the center. “Do you want in on this, too?” I asked the barman. “Otherwise you have to turn your back.” He growled and shoved a quad onto the table. I flicked the top card over to Long Tall. “Put this queen with the one in your sleeve,” I said. These guys had worked together for a long time. I’d seen him slip a card into his sleeve when he cut. I knew it was a queen because I’d put it on top. Bellower knew it was a queen because he’d made the last cut. While I straightened the deck, I dropped the ace on top. I placed my finger on the deck. “Beneath my finger is the ace of spades,” I intoned.
“Of course it is,” Bellower said. Weasel said nothing, but I could see his hand near his knife. “The whole deck is beneath your finger. Caught you!”
“Not quite,” I said. “I mean this card.” I slid the top card off the deck and onto the table. Then with a quick flick, turned the ace up. I scooped up the quads and transferred them to my pocket, narrowly missing having my fingers severed as Weasel’s knife stuck in the table.
“Never cheat a cheater,” Weasel’s nasally voice sounded for the first time. “Show us the trick.”
“I just showed you the trick,” I said. There was a scream from the back of the inn. Ariel. I stood.
“Not your concern,” the barman said. He was wearing a sword.
Strange attire for a barman.
“I think it is,” I said, calmly. “That’s my sister.” The sword was three-quarters of the way out of its sheath when the next card in the deck severed his carotid artery and lodged in his throat. My left cane struck center in Weasel’s forehead, knocking him to the floor unconscious. The right cane broke Bellower’s neck as he lunged at me with a knife. To my left, Long Tall was slumped over the table and Lisa was extracting her bone comb from his neck.
Lisa nodded to me and I grabbed Weasel’s knife from the center of the table where he’d stuck it. Foolish to wedge your weapon into wood just to make a show. I slit his throat. I grabbed the barman’s sword and started toward the back of the inn. Lisa was right behind me with Bellower’s dagger and Long Tall’s sword.
It was easy to find the room where Ariel was being raped. A man howled with pain and then fury. We pushed into the room to find him jumping around with his pants off and his cock waving about in agony. Ariel was sprawled unconscious on the bed. Jules was tied to a chair.
The rapist immediately grabbed his sword and swung wildly at me. He was well-dressed, except for his lack of trousers. Even with his cock dangling and in obvious pain from the burning, he was a consummate professional as a swordsman.
“Tend to Jules and Ariel,” I snapped at Lisa. She edged around the room as I faced off with Rapist.
“Sam, Bart, Will, Joe!” he yelled.
“Sorry. They’re already dead,” I said. “Your turn next.”
“You think a cripple can take out the greatest swordsman alive?”
“Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” He made a lunge to my left and I parried it with my cane. A dagger appeared in his other hand and as he stepped back, he threw it. I side-stepped and swung the right cane up, releasing it from my hand. He knocked the stick down with his sword as the tip of my sword buried itself in his heart. He looked down at it in consternation and dropped his sword. “You were watching the wrong weapon,” I said as I pulled the sword and let him topple forward.
“Julia!” Ariel screamed. What? I looked over to where Ariel was waking. She was staring at Jules. A dagger was high in the man’s stomach. Lisa was trying to restrain Ariel.
“Ariel Songbird of Cassandra,” I said. “I am Hero Lincoln of Earth and I have come to rescue you.” Ariel tore her eyes from Jules and stared at me.
“Save her! Save her and take her to the bank!” she screamed. Lisa let the damsel go and she rushed to Jules. “Julia Innkeeper, my love. Our hero has come.”
“It’s too late for me, my Songbird,” Jules said. “It is a mercy that he is here to take you.”
“We can get you to the bank!” Ariel said. “They’ll heal you.”
“I would never make it to the bank, and they can’t heal the cancer that is eating me. Ariel, my sweet love, it is better this way.” Jules coughed and thick black phlegm mixed with blood dribbled from his lips. Her?
“Hero, please,” Ariel wept. “Please help Julia Innkeeper of Cassandra.” My god! All these years she had been disguised as a man caring for her countrywoman. I knelt beside the innkeeper.
“Julia Innkeeper of Cassandra. I am Hero Lincoln of Earth and I have come to rescue you,” I said. Jules jerked in pain and put her hands on the dagger.
“Thank you, my Hero. Thank you for rescuing my precious Ariel. Take care of her. Thank you, my Hero.” With that, the berserker emerged and she twisted the dagger up into her heart.
Ariel wept.
It wasn’t going to be a quick escape. Ariel was devastated and in pain from the rapist’s semen. After Lisa convinced Ariel that she was a woman, she prepared a douche with vinegar and soda for Ariel. It helped, but did not ease her mourning for her lost love.
I dragged Rapist out of the room and let Lisa tend to Ariel and prepare Julia for burial. I stripped the five ruffians of a pretty fair amount of money, more good daggers and the Rapist’s high-quality sword. I also took all of their clothing. It was good quality and I wondered who these dudes were. I stripped them naked, and in an act of sheer hatred, I sliced Rapist’s cock and balls off him and stuffed them in his mouth. Then I began the tedious job of dragging them out into the street. Outside, I also found five good horses and tack with provisions and extra weapons. Whoever these guys were, I had a bad feeling.
Rock Canyon City was pretty good sized—maybe a couple thousand all told. It was big enough that it had an undertaker of sorts who dragged a cart through the streets with a muffled bell. There were two other bodies on the cart when he got to me. Rock Canyon City had decided that it liked the stench of rotting bodies less than the reek of shit in the street.
“Rapist, eh?” Undertaker said as I helped him transfer the bodies to his cart. “Everyone knew, but the Mayor won’t like it. That’s his youngest son. Don’t have to worry about the older brothers. They hated the little bastard. Don’t be surprised, though, if the old man doesn’t come to get revenge.”
“Thanks,” I said. I gave him a quad apiece for disposing of the bodies.
“Yer generous. I’d a done it for two quad.”
“It was their money,” I said. He laughed.
“What about the innkeeper and his wife?” he asked. “She lives. We’ll bury him ourselves.”
“There’s a plot east of town where folks put those who were important enough to remember,” he said. “Ask anyone directions.” He hauled the cart away, its muffled bell softly ringing.
In spite of the damsel’s distress and burning, we couldn’t rush to the bank. I now owned an inn and needed to find an innkeeper. Ariel and Lisa had to prepare Jules/Julia for burial. And there was the mayor to deal with when I reopened the inn later that afternoon.
“Where is the sod who killed my son?” a pompous man in tight pants that might have looked good on him thirty years earlier demanded from the doorway. Behind him stood two young men who looked like they might have been that younger version.
“Was the son in question a murderer, rapist, and cheater at cards? Aside from the innkeeper he killed, those are the only ones who have died here today,” I said. I stepped around the bar and laid my crutch across the stools where I could reach it as I put my hand on my newly acquired sword.
“You’ve taken the jewel of my crown,” roared the man. “For that you will die.” We drew our swords at the same time. The old man got a surprised look on his face and toppled forward. One of the two behind him wiped a dagger on the old man’s pants and sheathed it.
“Sorry, Minstrel. You’ll have to kill both of us if you wish to inherit the old man’s estate. As the victors in this battle, we claim all that belonged to the Mayor.” The two stood facing me. They were comfortable in their stance and had their swords within easy reach, but made no threatening moves. I sheathed my sword.
“Unless you wish to defend the honor of your late brother, I have no quarrel with you.”
“Well, I would defend his honor,” said the one on the left, “if he had any. If you will permit us to remove this rubbish to the street, though, I could use a drink.” I nodded and they hauled the mayor out the door and stripped their own father of everything. I poured two flagons of ale and heard a call from the street.
“Dead cart! Dead cart to the Inn!” A few minutes later I heard the muted bell ringing. The brothers came into the room and I handed them their drinks. They sat at a table and shortly Ariel came in with bowls of stew for the brothers.
“Ariel, are you all right?” the first inquired softly.
“Your brother killed Jules and raped me,” she scolded.
“Raphael, did you kill the innkeeper?” he gasped. “Not I, Gabe,” the other answered.
“Your other brother,” Ariel hissed. “My Hero took care of him and his cronies.”
“I have no other brother,” Gabe said. “Your Hero has my thanks for protecting your honor.” He raised his tankard to me. I nodded back.
“What will you do with the inn?” Raphael asked. “Plan to stay in town, Minstrel?”
“How do you know I am a minstrel?” I asked.
“Tossed you enough to pay for a room last night,” Raphael laughed.
“Well, you know how traveling minstrels are,” I said. “I need someone to care for my business.”
“You know, I always thought I’d like seeing an inn from the other side of the bar,” Gabe said. “I’ve no mettle for politics. Don’t think I’ll follow in Daddy’s footsteps.”
“Though we might plow the same furrow that yielded that bastard you killed. See if we can plant something that grows straight.”
“Speak for yourself, Raphe. Molly would kill me if I dipped my wick in that cesspool.”
“Perhaps the two of you would know where I could find business partners who would like to run an inn. Could provide a pretty good income if what I saw last night is true,” I said.
“You know, Molly is a wicked good cook,” Gabe said. “And that bitch you want to fuck would be a fine scullery maid, Raphe. Don’t you think so?”
“Hmm. That would leave us to work on the bright side of the bar!” Raphe said. “What terms would you be wanting from your partners, Master Minstrel?”
“Fifteen percent of profits. And I would expect you not to pay yourselves until profits are figured. I will visit periodically and do a little entertaining,” I said.
“Let us seal this deal before the bank closes and the night crowd comes in,” Gabe said. “I think we have a new partner.”
The trip to the bank was uneventful. Lees and Raphe stayed at the inn to keep it running while Gabe, Ariel, and I went to the bank to straighten accounts. The bank manager looked sympathetically at Ariel when he heard Jules was dead and then transferred the innkeeper’s private accounts to my name and the inn to the partnership of Gabe, Raphe, and Minstrel Lincoln. I made sure the inn account had enough money in it to bridge the transition to new profitability and rented a box according to the instructions Persephone had given me.
That night, we held a wake for Jules. It might have been a new custom for the City of Rock Canyon. He lay in state in the common room and by the end of the evening there was standing room only in the crowded room. I finally sang and did a little dance. Then Ariel asked if I played the cithara and brought me one of the strange instruments. I plucked at the strings and Lisa picked up the rhythms on the blocks.
I sang the song of Jules Innkeeper.
I started with the arrival of a stranger in a strange land falling upon hard times. I did not let on that Jules was a woman. They had all known her as Ariel’s husband. He had been taken into slavery and sent to the mines. But rather than breaking his spirit, the spirit of a deep mine demon I called Balrog inhabited him and gave him strength. It was not, however, until the fair Ariel appeared at the mine that the berserker demon took control and freed the miners and the damsel.
By the time I was finished, there were no dry eyes in the house and people raised their steins in silent salute to the hero innkeeper who had given his life protecting his wife.
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