City of Ruin - Mark Charan Newton [85]
‘You won’t find any more drink,’ Randur said.
Munio glared at him. ‘And just who is this young parvenu who comes storming in from the past to invade my house like this?’
He slumped onto a stool at the table.
Randur ignored the tantrum and, slicing some warm bread, buttered it and slid the plate across to him.
‘Why’re you all here anyway?’ Munio asked.
‘Because you invited us, you miserable sod,’ Randur replied. He grabbed a mug of something hot and sat down opposite.
‘You’ve done all right, lad.’
‘Is that a compliment?’
Munio grunted a laugh. ‘The petulant child still exists, inside this glossy exterior. So how did you get away from this shithole of an island and come to meet the likes of those two posh lasses?’
‘I managed to steal a name from a dead man who was meant to be sword and dance tutor to Lady Eir. Originally I was there to get a cultist to help my poor mother, but I found cultists only helped themselves. My world then took something of a drastic turn and my priorities changed. Eir’s sister was due to become Empress. Then the man who’s probably now Emperor set them up for a crime of treason, and I helped get Eir and Rika out of the city. We’re now on the run to Villiren – since Rika’s got a plan, which is more than the rest of us have.’
‘Bohrsakes, child. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me this at first.’
Randur shrugged.
‘Well, makes no difference to those of us way out here who runs the Empire. And so having the burden of such responsibility – is it eating away yet?’
‘People can change,’ Randur replied. ‘And I’m not who I used to be. I can choose to be different if I want.’
‘People never really change,’ Munio declared, a statement of intent regarding his alcoholism, perhaps.
‘Look, there’s likely to be a big price on our heads, and that level of bounty can change a man’s thinking.’
‘A big price, for just you lot? You would’ve thought the Council had better things to be worrying about than a couple of kids.’
‘Money’s no problem to that man, Urtica – he’ll have a regiment or two spreading out across the Empire. Don’t forget, we’re fugitives. I have to keep looking over my shoulder, but I never let my concern show to the girls – I prefer to carry that burden myself. So we’re on our way north, to Villiren, to meet the commander there, and we’ll leave here as soon as we feel up to it.’
‘Why bother?’ Munio asked.
‘Rika wants to be able to clear her name – strangely, she actually wants to serve her people, to help them. She reckons the commander of the military – you must have heard of the legendary albino? – can help her out. Seems he brought her to Villjamur in the first place. We’re focused on that as our objective, and it’s all we’re living for at the moment.’
‘Long journey you have in mind.’
‘I think you should come with us. In fact, I want you to.’ Sudden, thrusting words.
Munio glanced at him in disbelief. ‘At my age?’
‘We could do with the extra protection. Also I only half remember the routes north from this part of the island, so your assistance in getting there would be bloody useful. You reckon you’d be up to it?’
‘Pah, I’m too old. People like me never change, like I said.’
Randur didn’t buy that. Like he deployed his sword strokes over the years, Munio had more than likely repeated the habits of his misery until he knew, by heart, how to shun the real world.
Randur pressed him further, more persuasive blows. ‘I know you’ve talked about money, or lack of, but when you’re on the road with us you won’t have to worry about that. Maybe we can catch up a bit, because there are so many years to talk about. I used to respect you so much, old friend. After all I didn’t have a father, and . . .’ Randur trailed off, as if expecting Munio to say what he then said.
‘Well, I never had a son.’ With these words Munio disarmed himself, let his guard down, and no longer had anything to parry Randur with.
A pause, and Randur said, ‘Or at least none that you knew about, you filthy old scrote. So you’ll join us, will you?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
The two of them laughed and Munio looked