Marcius slowly nodded in agreement, feeling a bit red faced at the scolding.
Lian continued, "What concerns me more is this pawn of the Academy. Please be careful around her, even if she means us and Antaigne no harm. The puppet masters might very well mean to do us in. After all, there has to be a reason why they have taken a sudden interest in the dwarf after all these years. Minerva warned me that she sensed trouble brewing, and one must always take Minerva's hunches seriously."
This struck Marcius as odd. Minerva had never stuck out to him as anything more than perhaps an old friend. But then again, he had only seen her once. "What do you mean, father? Is she some seer?"
The trader smiled ruefully. "You could say that, just don't ever let her hear it. She thinks of herself more of an interpreter of events. She's a person whom I helped back when I used to travel, and I learned many times since then to trust her when she gives warnings. She has an uncanny knack for it, even though she has no magical power that I am aware of."
"Does it concern us? Or is it a general warning to be careful?" said Marcius, wiping food from his mouth and taking a small sip from his wine cup.
"I do not know, but she came to warn me, and she also stressed to warn you as well. There is trouble brewing, with all the wars and such, that much is obvious. But she insists there is something going on in the background." Lian shrugged as if that was expected.
"Should I take Antaigne the contract?" Marcius was starting to feel unsure, but he trusted his father's advice explicitly.
Lian's brow knitted together as he thought it over "I would say it probably wouldn't hurt. She can't place a spell on it, because Antaigne would find out easily. Nor can she use a lost object spell since she gave it to you voluntarily. Leave the choice up to Antaigne. I would say it might be a way to get them out of that mess he calls his hair for a bit. I'm sure he wouldn't mind that."
What Alicia had said the night before surfaced in Marcius's mind, and he cleared his throat before asking, pushing away his now empty bowl of potato soup as he did so. "Father, when I was speaking with the Mage last night, she said that when she came two days ago looking for information, you gave her the truth. Why?"
"Ah, there is the trap of it all. Do you really believe she just had information of me being the wizard's last contact? I doubt it. More likely they have an inside source, a spy, if you will. If I had denied everything, it would have placed us all in danger. Antaigne and I went over the specifics yesterday, and he agreed what I did was correct. Sometimes the best way to lie is to tell the truth, Marc." Marcius frowned. One of the things he never got his father to come clean about was the methods of communication he had with Antaigne.
"Well father, I have to get going. I have the apothecary and some magic dealing elf to visit today for the last of the ingredients," Marcius said, waving goodbye to Lian as he made his way to the exit.
"Tell Ken I said hello then." The trader waved dismissively as he directed his attention back to his food. It confused Marcius, since the apothecary's name was Diran. Shrugging it off, he excitedly ran to the stables. Opening the door, he saw a covered box and two large wooden kegs resting on the hay covered floor in the corner. He noticed a note attached to each one respectively. He quickly snatched the one on the covered box as Ruby gave small snort of greeting.
Dear Marcypoo,
Here, as promised, is your animal. I hope your customer will treat him well. He likes meat, and in particular he loves ham. Thank you again for the generous payment. We have decided to name a segment of our business in honor of your family. Please stop by and take a look at the animals in the Realure exhibit sometime. And don't forget us if you ever decide to buy a pet for yourself!
Love,
Freddy
Marcius had to suppress a grin. Freddy was much more likeable on paper, though he sincerely doubted he would ever buy the exotic animals the zoo specialized in as a pet for himself. Crumpling the paper and throwing it carelessly to the ground, he quickly tore off the cover of the box.
It was the same cage he had first seen the animal in. The wyvrr had been sleeping, but with the invasion of the light from outside, he stretched, scales rustling together like soft autumn leaves. Out of impulse Marcius snaked a finger in, which "Dragypoo"(as evident from the nameplate on the cage) sniffed. After a few tense seconds, the animal was brushing against the finger with his eye ridges. Just like a cat, Marcius mused.
The scales were like sand to the touch and surprisingly dry, yet still soft. "Now what should I call you?" Marcius said out loud, feeling foolish for talking to an animal. "Dragypoo is an insult to both our sensibilities, eh?" The creature gave a contented sigh, which Marcius took as agreement. It withdrew from his finger and curled up in a corner of the cage, the green eyes still on Marcius as it rested its head on a pile of straw.
"We can figure it out later," he promised as he took the note off the kegs of dwarven stout. It was short and written on the back of a brewery order form with very scraggly writing. Marcius had a hard time deciphering it.
in repayment for helping out Anthony. free of charge. remember my brewery for all ale you need
thank you
Marcius left a message with Lars, asking Clarissa to give some meat cubes to the wyvrr since he expected to be gone most of the day. The stable boy had just gotten in when Marcius got back to the stables, and in no time Ruby was ready to go. As the horse stomped the ground softly with impatience, Marcius gave the stable boy a small tip and mounted. At a relaxed trot, he headed to the Rhensford trade district, anxious to see what awaited him.
Chapter 05
The visit to the apothecary went off without a hitch. In less than an hour, Marcius had everything he needed from the store. He was soon on the familiar worn path of Cobble Street, feeling rather optimistic about life in general. He soon spotted the elf at his fruit stand, handing a small box of fruit to a kind faced woman. As if sensing Marcius watching him, the sharp eyed elf turned around, throwing Marcius a welcoming grin as he closed the distance between them. "Greetings my Lord, the usual I assume?" He had already started navigating around the pile of apples on display, deftly selecting the kinds he knew Marcius liked.
"Ah, no, I've come here for a different reason. I don't believe I caught your name before? I am Marcius Realure," he said, eschewing the normal formalities in class by extending his hand in greeting.
The idea that someone would take an interest in him must have come as a surprise, his catlike yellow eyes widened. The shock was quickly replaced by suspicion, the pupils narrowing, giving him even a more feral like appearance.
Marcius watched the transitions take place in an instant. It ended with a very guarded expression of indifference as the elf cautiously took the proffered hand. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I'm a mere fruit vendor trying to make a living. Whatever reason, besides fruit, could you have to visit me?"
Marcius decided to act on a suspicion he harbored ever since he read the message from Antaigne. "Really? Is that so? Well then, I will have to tell my dwarven friend to get his supplies elsewhere." Marcius made sure to leave it vague, in case he was wrong. No sense in broadcasting that he knew magic to the whole community, especially after the discussion with his father.
The words had the intended effect, for the eyes grew wide again though the elf was quick to rein it in. "Ah, well then, you must be one of my other customers. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kenelevialry de'Yonliacfrag," he said with an air of pride, bowing, the vestiges of etiquette seemingly vanishing with the action. "But I know how you humans are with such long-winded titles, just call me Ken. It would be bad humor, indeed, to discuss these sorts of business dealings out in the open, considering the circumstances. Please follow me to my dwellings."
He started packing up the cart, easily throwing up the wooden side boards. The cart was designed to be a mobile store, taking only mere moments to prepare. Marcius followed the blonde elf through the now mushrooming crowds that packed the street, as the elf artfully but quickly weaved his path around the denser areas. After a few moments, they came upon a meager dwelling within a impromptu cul-de-sac, located somewhere between the trade district and the slums. The elf promptly deposited his cart outside, pulling a padlock seemingly out of thin air in which to secure it.
Ken's knock was answered by a boy with dirty ash-brown hair, the tips of his pointed ears barely visible. He boldly looked Marcius up and down and said a few words to his father in the pleasant-sounding language of the elves. Ken gave an irritated shrug and the boy hurriedly moved aside to let them pass.
At Marcius's questioning glance, Ken explained, "Fenriel was just curious. We don't get many guests."
The elf gracefully moved his way through the piles of books and papers that littered the narrow hallway, coming to stop in front of a tapestry. It was a rich design depicting a poignant scene from a well known legend. "Pact of Jaylynn" was a popular fairy tale about an old man who made a pact with demons in order to achieve happiness, but as with all stories involving demons, the man's life unravels to a tragic end. Marcius thought it served as a very pointed reminder to tread carefully around things you don't understand.