The lad chuckled awkwardly, scratching at his cheek. “Well, funny thing, that …”
Dalton snickered and poked Geon’s head with the end of his staff. “This little twat was bragging about being a Raider. Tossing back ale and jarring about in the pub, acting a bloody fool.”
Geon flushed, knocking the staff away. “Bollocks, I was not!”
“I was there, you pillock.”
“Piss off!”
Von grabbed Geon’s coat and growled in his face, “I should toss you back onto the streets where I found you, lad, if only to save your life. Master would have you killed if he learns of this. No one must know he’s in Azure. Being his Raider isn’t for pride. It’s to serve him and him only, understand?”
Geon went pale. “Aye, Commander. It won’t happen again.”
Von released him and glared at Dalton’s smirking face next. “And where were you when this was happening? Sitting back and enjoying this folly?” The guilty mage avoided his hard gaze. “Brainless hellions the lot of you. Always gallivanting about getting into trouble. I should drag you coofs back to camp by your ears and have you whipped!”
The lads winced and dropped their heads.
Von took a deep breath to ease his irritation. This was most likely a trap, but the chance that he may find another Scroll was too much to ignore.
“Elon and I will meet the merchant. If this is an ambush, you know what to do.”
“Aye, Commander,” they replied.
Von nodded to Dalton, “Are you carrying?”
“Always.” The mage reached into his robes and pulled out a canvas bundle. He unrolled it and laid it out on a barrel. Several rows of small glass vials were strapped inside. Each contained a different colored elixir or shimmering powder. He picked a vial with iridescent pearls inside and held it out. “Father says these are potent. Each will last you for an hour.”
Von snatched the vial. “I’m aware of how truth spells work.”
For mages, spells were as easy as waving their hand, but humans relied on potions when in need of magic. He popped the cork and tossed a pearl into his mouth. It quickly dissolved on his tongue, tasting bitter, as was any truth hard to swallow. A tingle spread throughout the inside of his mouth to his lips and down his throat.
For an hour, it would give him the power of extracting information from anyone he spoke to, compelling them to tell him the truth whenever he asked a question. Those weak of mind would be completely unaware of it.
“Both of you wait outside the pub where I can see you. Keep to yourselves. Don’t speak to anyone else,” Von commanded, eyeing them sternly.
The lads nodded and moved to stand by the pub’s front windows layered in grime. Von and Elon went inside. The taproom was packed with people, the lively music blending in the chorus of voices. A haze of smoke hung in the air, smelling of sweat and cooking meat. Most of the patrons congregated at the bar. They jeered at the women serving them food and drink as the barkeep collected their coin.
A barmaid with her fleshy bosom pushed up on display, gave them a wide smile. She balanced a tray of tankards, their frothy contents spilling over the rims. “Take a seat anywhere you fancy. I’ll come to service you in a bit,” she said with a wink then moved on to serve the drinks.
There were no empty tables available. While searching for the merchant among the faces, Von spotted someone in a dark corner of the room watching them. The lone stranger sat still under the shadow of a tattered cloak the color of the woods. The hood hid most of his face, except for his mouth and loose locks of long blond hair.
Elon noticed him too, and his eyes narrowed. “Green elf.”
The stranger wore no livery to prove he was of the Greenwood Kingdom, but Von took his word for it.
Whether it meant trouble, Elon didn’t say. Which meant he hadn’t decided yet. The captain was a red elf, once in service of the Red Highland Kingdom before he was exiled. Elon appeared young, but Von guessed he was well over a century old, so there was no telling how long ago that was.
More often than not, the meeting between a red elf and green elf ended in bloodshed. The fragile peace between the two kingdoms within the Vale of the Elves hung on a thin line of twine, waiting to be snipped.
But the green elf looked away and continued sipping his drink, apparently uninterested in confrontation.
Von resumed searching for the merchant and met the inquiring gaze of a man in a brocade vest with the buttons straining over his belly. He sat alone in the opposite corner at the back of the room.
“Mind the door,” Von told Elon then weaved his way through the crowd to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
“Oh, good. I feared no one would come,” the man said. He smiled uneasily as he wiped the sweat from his greasy head. His red scalp shone under the lanterns hanging from the exposed rafters.
“I take it you’re the merchant?” Von asked. The question activated the truth spell, and the man shivered as the magic worked through him.
