Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [108]
"You've been robbed?" Kendel asked cautiously. It was not wise to inquire too closely into the troubles of others, yet he felt inexplicably drawn by the barkeep and charmed by his grumpy overtures. Such friendliness was rare in Tethyr, especially to an elf
"Robbed? You might say that," the dwarf retorted. "I come in here, same as you, to wet my throat after a long day." A fleeting grin lit his face with an unexpected touch of nostalgia. "Though truth be told, the day weren't no hardship on me. The Foaming Sands-ever beared tell of that place?"
The elf nodded, for the reputation of that exclusive bath and pleasure house stood tall in the city. He did not credit the dwarfs claim as entire truth, however, for the Foaming Sands was well beyond the means of dock workers and barkeeps.
"Had me a pocketful of gold and a fistful of silver," the dwarf continued wistfully. "Earned the gold, mind you, with ten years of hard labor, and the silver were a gift and rightfully mine. Spent every one of them silver coins at the Sands, and counted it a bargain. Then I come here. Afore I even finished one mug the fight started. Good thing I was feeling uncommon mellow, or I mighta done considerable damage."
"To all appearances, you did well enough," Kendel murmured. "Your gold, I take it, went toward repairs?"
The dwarf snorted. "What they took from me was enough to build a new place from cellar to chimney, with enough left over to hire half the girls who work the Foaming Sands to tend tables! Then they say it weren't enough, and the local law of course backs 'em up. So here I am, working off the rest. Been here fer days, and seems like I can't get ahead nohow. Seems like I traded one kinda slavery fer another," he concluded glumly.
Kendel received this pronouncement in silence, for it would hardly be wise to voice his outrage. Slavery was not uncommon in Tethyr, but the thought of this oddly charming dwarfs being held in servitude was particularly galling to the elf. Times were difficult in Tethyr, especially for those folk not of human blood.
If there was any benefit to a long life, Kendel mused, it was the ability to see the wheel of events turn full circle, again and again. This was also, in many ways, a curse. In Tethyr, this was perhaps doubly true.
Kendel had come to Tethyr before the grandsire of any human in the room had wailed his way into the worlft. He had built a home and raised a family, only to have his property seized when the humans in power decided that no elf could own land. By his sword and his strength he had rebuilt another life, his fortunes rising along with those of the royal faction for which he fought. Then the mood of the Tethyrian kings shifted, and vicious pogroms decimated even the most loyal elven folk. Kendel had survived; the royal family had not. For years an egalitarian fervor had gripped the land, extending even to members of other races. Once again Kendel had thrived, only to see the cycle of public sentiment whirl back toward low ebb. Three years ago, he had been a merchant. Now the best work he could find was as a dockhand.
The elf sipped at his ale, but though he was deep in his memories, he did not neglect to watch for possible dangers. From the corner of his eye, Kendel noted the group of men that pushed their way into the room. Five of them, all mercenaries. He knew the breed well enough to recognize them at a glance; they were marked by a swaggering gait that bespoke bravado, but which also suggested a certain lack of purpose or direction. Masterless men, for the most part, looking for a reason to fight and therefore to live.
But these men seemed to be an exception; they had purpose enough. All four of them pushed their way through the crowd, coming straight toward the place where Kendel sat.
The elf surreptitiously loosened the dagger he kept strapped to one thigh. It had been many years since he'd had to use it, but elven memories were long. If he were required to fight, he felt confident he could make a good accounting of himself.
"I know you," one of the mercenaries