Startled beyond measure, Kraghtol spun around, only to come face to face with one of the people he had expected least. Standing in front of him, expensive suitcase in hand and the smile of superiority on his lips, was Valir.
Chapter 12
The City of Tradition
“Valir?! What in the world areyoudoing here?”
Kraghtol couldn’t help but stare at the noble, his open mouth and wide eyes not making the most clever impression.
“Yes, thank you, I indeed had a pleasant journey, Kragh, thank you for asking. It was a tad long, though. I think next time I’ll take the carriage.”
The noble was enjoying this decidedly too much.
Collecting himself, Kraghtol shook his head.
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” he said, and continued in a whisper. “They are still searching for me, I guess. The thing you did at the docks was dangerous enough, but if anyone sees you here with me, they will assume we are accomplices.”
Valir just shrugged.
“You really have a strange way of saying ‘thank you, Valir, for helping me escape the city when everyone was looking for me not once but twice, three times if we count the new cloak’, but I’ll take it.”
He was the one to talk.
“Right.Thank you,Valir,” Kraghtol said, mimicking the not entirely serious tone. He meant it, though. Valir had really gone out of his way to help him when he was in deep trouble, and even though he just had three weeks to roll around that thought in his head, he still had not been able to come up with a plausible reason.
“Why, of course, you’re welcome. Don’t mention it, really.”
Kraghtol didn’t bother replying that Valir had just explicitly asked him to mention it.
“To answer your question, though: With the recent political developments in Winterstone, I thought it best to enjoy a vacation abroad. Get my head out of the whole academia. Perhaps visit the famous sights of Bronzebreak. Did you know the city allegedly has more than a thousand steps? Besides, you still owe me a lot of money — don’t worry, I don’t plan on demanding it back anytime soon — and my best bet of getting it back is to make sure you don’t get yourself caught or killed.”
Kraghtol was far from convinced, but he nodded slowly. He had another hunch, though.
“I see. So, I’m your excuse?”
Valir blinked. “My excuse?”
“You didn’t want to live like this. You had no real friends in Winterstone, and the portrait of your father was always looking over your shoulder. And you had other dreams for your life. You even told meabout them, and when I asked you what you wanted to do about it, you didn’t answer. So, now I’m the convenient excuse for you to break out and go on a little adventure, dip your toe in the water, so to speak. But if anyone should ask, you were just after your money.”
The words bubbled out of Kraghtol’s mouth faster than he could think them. Feeling he should not leave the statement quite as accusing, he quickly added,
“Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mind being your excuse. I’m so deeply in your debt by now that this is the least thing I can do. And I still think you have the voice for it. Being a bard, I mean.”
It was the sincere Valir who answered.
“I… I guess you’re right about this being a bit of a pretense. But I want to make something very clear. You arenotin my debt. The loan is just business that we will settle in due time. And you saved me from those kidnapers in Winterstone, so I would say we’re even. Agreed?”
The noble reached out his hand, and Kraghtol took it, the noble’s smaller hand delicate in his own. It still made little sense to him. He had fought off the kidnapers, yes, but that had been as much self-interest as it had been to save the noble. What Valir was doing for him went far beyond that simple act of brutality. It was a riddle he could not solve now.
“Agreed.”
“Good. Then let’s find you a bathhouse for fey’s breath. You really do reek.”
Even coming from Winterstone, Bronzebreak was a remarkable city. It probably held fewer inhabitants but spread farther, at least with all dimensions combined. The entire city was carved into the mountain and was a labyrinth of stairs and corridors. Some of them were so small and low that Kraghtol would have needed to crawl, but others, the main veins, were so vast he could imagine a whole regiment marching through them without problems.
Most of the people living here were dwarves, which made Kraghtol stand out even more than in Winterstone, and the general opinion regarding half-orcs didn’t seem to differ much from what Kraghtol had experienced half a year ago. The only difference was that now he had money. Well, Valir had. Even though the noble showed no hesitation in using his coins freely for the both of them whenever something had to be paid, Kraghtol didn’t like it very much. There just was not much he could do about it right now, so he kept his mouth shut.
After a thorough bath, they met again at one of the city’s inns. Kraghtol was surprised to see that Valir had not chosen a particularly fancy place. It was far from comparable to Calder’s tavern, but given the noble’s attitude, he had expected him to eat and lodge in nothing less than the most luxurious place available. Now that he paid attentionto it, he also noticed that Valir had changed into simpler clothes as well. Was he running out of money? The thought frightened him. Was he being a burden?
