“Well? What happened? The explanation of why you barged into the room all bloody and vomited right in front of my feet should better be good.”
The half-orc took another moment to collect himself as best as he could. It was like there were two entirely different Valirs. One, the Valir who accompanied him to the Hawkes, was almost unreasonably friendly and open, especially for a noble. And the other was an arrogant asshole. Still, even the asshole deserved an explanation.
His voice faltered at first, but once he had started, the words were pouring out of him like a deluge. He had not planned to tell Valir everything, but he was powerless to prevent it from happening all on its own. The gruesome images, all the disturbing details, were so fresh,so vivid he had to spit them out like the remains of the stew on the floor if he didn’t want to choke on them.
He didn’t stop when he had reached the end of his story. When he got to the part where he fought the near-invisible assassin, he waved around with the now considerably warmer piece of cloth from his pocket like it was a flag, while he recited the events of the solstice evening as well.
The noble-born just stood there, arms crossed in front of his chest, listening to Kraghtol but not speaking a word until he was finished.
“You really are an idiot, Kragh. A good-hearted idiot, but an idiot no less.”
Kraghtol stared at the human, his mind having difficulties to process the comment.
“What?”
Valir’s half-smile was somewhere between sad and condescending.
“So, there’s been a murder.”
Kraghtol couldn’t help but wonder how in the world the noble could state that fact so coldly.
“Someone killed one of the highest-ranking officials of one of the most prolific guilds in the city, probably in all of northern Wardenreach. And you walk — no,run— away from the scene, in all of your green glory, covered in the victim’s blood and with a stolen lockbox under your arm. What do yousupposethe fine early-morning folks you encountered will think?”
“I… I didn’t think…”
“Exactly.”
“But I can explain it. I tried to save his life, and…”
He stopped. A Roderic Hawke wouldn’t even hear him out for a single word. Valir was right. He really was an idiot.
“Do you think I should have told the guild master? About that woman and Dean Quenning?”
The noble considered for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think so. They saw you on the night of the solstice, and would have — correctly — assumed you were involved. You would just have made yourself a target.”
“Perhaps the guild master wouldn’t have had to die then,” Kraghtol protested.
Valir sighed, almost theatrically. “You can’t know that. And it’s no use sitting here and torturing yourself with all the ifs and assumptions. Here is what you’re going to do. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life fighting savages the same color as you on the border, you need to get out of the citynow!”
“But won’t that look like I did it?” Kraghtol protested weakly.
“Probably. But that will not make much of a difference. As far as the Guild of Peace is concerned, there will be little doubt about your guilt, anyway. Now, the problem is how… If you just walk out of the city, they will catch you before you even pass the gate. You need a discreet way out.”
Something inside of Kraghtol’s brain reacted to the words, and a faint memory surfaced.
“Perhaps I know someone.”
Valir looked up in surprise.
“You know a hidden way out of the city?”
“No,” Kraghtol shook his head. “But I know someone who almost certainly does. He just doesn’t… like me very much. But perhaps if I give him all my money, he will help me.”
“Ah. Bribe money. The universal solution that works in nearly all social classes. Sounds like a solid plan. But you really need to clean up first. And stars above, don’t let anyone else see you!”
Without even hesitating a heartbeat, the noble reached into his purse and handed Kraghtol a handful of gold coins. Unable to believe what he saw, Kraghtol just stared at the shiny disks.
“Why?”
