The Gully Snipe (The Dual World Book 1) (6 page)

Gully’s mind snapped out of his fond memories and he realized his hand had once again gone to his neck, feeling for the pendant hanging there under his tunic. The pendant and the throwing knife were the two things that had belonged to his father and now to Gully, the only two relics of the man that had disappeared. His father had taught Gully to use the throwing knives well, even as a small child, and when Ollon disappeared, it was the one weapon of defense the nine-year-old boy knew to take as he finally abandoned the small cabin that had been his home.

The pendant, though, was more of a mystery to Gully. From his earliest recollections, barely a week went by that his father didn’t instruct him on where the pendant was and his command for Gully to take it if anything ever happened to him. His father had told Gully, if it came to it, to put it on and never take it off for anyone or for any reason. And Gully had done exactly that. When he gave up on his father returning, he took the round symbol of cut crystal with its leather cord from its safe spot behind the loose stone next to the fireplace, put it around his neck, and had never let it from his sight in the ten years subsequent. He had never understood why it was important to his father, nor why his father hadn’t simply worn it himself to keep it safe.

Finding the pendant in its rightful place around his neck, Gully scratched at the itch that sprang up in the palm of his left hand and forced his mind to more practical issues.

He thought about what Roald had said the night before, about joining up with the Kingdom Guard. He had considered that advice more than once. Or part of it, at the least. He didn’t have the heart to tell his foster brother that, for a while now, he had been considering leaving Lohrdanwuld, but not with the intention of coming back to join Roald in the Guard one day.

The idea of being a part of the Kingdom Guard, protecting the aristocracy that viewed the people in disdain even as it rested on their backs, was impossible to Gully. Preposterous, in fact.

What
was
true, though, was that Gully’s ability to ply his trade, to pilfer money and goods and to move through the city unnoticed, was getting more and more difficult as more of the guards were recalling his face with greater accuracy. It had been convenient to use Lohrdanwuld as a source of income, even if ill-gotten, while still searching the woods and bogs of the Ghellerweald for any signs of his father. And his foster brother’s love for him had caused Roald to look the other way when he wasn’t on duty. Gully felt the pang from taking advantage of his foster brother’s misdirected affections this way, but had continued to ply his trade in the city anyway.

And in doing so, he put Roald at risk, and his own risk was increasing every day. So, the thought of leaving Lohrdanwuld once and for all was becoming less of an option and more of an imperative. His leaving would hurt Roald no end, bless him deeply, but it was far better than Gully one day actually getting caught by the Guard and likely dragging Roald down with him.

His options were the town of East End, in Lord veBasstrolle’s fief on the eastern side of the Ghellerweald. Another was perhaps north, up to Wilch’s Post, which was the seat of Lord veOusthendan’s fief. Wilch’s Post, though, was more than a half-day’s journey from the northern edge of the forest, which would make it difficult for Gully to continue his searching from there. He could also possibly try settling in Kindern in Lord veKinn’s fief. But as with Wilch’s Post, Kindern was over a half-day’s journey to the forest, to the southwest of Lohrdanwuld. East End truly was his best option, and had the benefit of being very close to the part of the Ghellerweald north of the South Pass Road, which Gully had thus far spent little time searching. The searching there would go faster since it was drier and the forest was thinner and didn’t have the dangerous bogs that the southern half of the wood had. The downside was that there were more dangerous animals in that part of the wood — wolves and bears and even some large cats — and Gully had less experience with them. There were also supposed to be the gypsies there, the ones rumored to be behind the vanishings. Gully had never run across any gypsies in the southern half of the Ghellerweald forests, and he suspected that the rumors were just that — rumors. Besides, he had less fear of coming up against people in the forest than he did of the wild animals.

In the meantime, and as he had been since the first night he waited for his father’s return that never happened, Gully was a lost soul. Since that first afternoon spent alone and expecting his father’s approaching whistle in the woods, since that first night listening for any familiar sound of his father’s and hearing only the sounds of the forest that seemed foreign and frightening, since the second day sitting in the doorway of the hut, watching and waiting. Waiting until he could wait no longer. He had been a lost soul now for ten years, even around a family, a foster mother and brother, who loved him and whose love he failed in his ability to return adequately.

He had become like a stray cat that had taken up residence in the home of the Delescers, coming and going as it pleased, taking and rarely giving. There for a night, then gone for a day. There for a meal, then away for a week. Making itself at home when around, but everyone knowing that it would never allow itself to be pinned down and genuinely become part of the family.

It would hurt, but Roald would be better off with him gone away for good. Perhaps his foster brother could manage to find another who was... Gully admonished himself for almost using the crude word “knockered” yet again, something he did far too often around Roald. Perhaps Roald could find another who was sway, as the more polite members of Iisen society termed a still very frowned-upon behavior. Perhaps Roald could find someone who could return the love he had to give.

And the moment he thought of that, the name “Mariealle” crept into his head. The fascinating Mariealle, whom he had only seen on a few occasions, to whom he had never spoken, and who had never even looked in his direction. He put her out of his mind immediately. If he allowed her into his mind, his sense of self-preservation would fly from him faster than the hawks of Kitemount and he’d never leave Lohrdanwuld.

The sound of an angry voice caused Gully to look up through the rain and realize he was blocking the road. He stared up into the large brown eyes of a Belder horse standing there, towering over him. The words “clear the way” and “street vermin” finally penetrated his reverie and Gully saw the driver of the fine carriage urging the horse forward, trying to get it to trample over Gully where he stood. Belder horses, though, were well known for their gentle nature and even dispositions, despite their size and power. The big chestnut horse with its white belly stood in place and refused to push Gully out of the way, ignoring the urgings of its own master.

Behind the horse, a round head and red face, graced by an embroidered coif hat, leaned out of the open side of the carriage to see what the obstruction was and shouted, “If the two-legged donkey is too stupid to move, Fervicke, run the knockered fool down! The loss of him will only raise the collective intelligence of the Iisendom and we’ll all be the richer for it!”

The driver on the front of the carriage agreed, “Aye, your Lordship!” He barked at Gully again, “You heard the noblesir! Out me way, offal!” The driver was waving at Gully with a hand missing a finger and yelling with a mouthful of angry, yellowed teeth.

Gully stared stupidly at the driver of the carriage until the Belder horse took a step forward and nudged him lightly in the shoulder with his big nose. The horse snorted and Gully finally pulled himself out of his stupor. He moved off to the side so the horse and enclosed carriage with its impatient passengers could pass. The driver didn’t even look at Gully as he rode by, but still muttered “starless wretch” at him as they passed.

Gully’s eye was drawn to the door of the cart, which carried the ornate gilded livery of the Watch Tower constellation upon it. He nodded in respect to the occupants as the carriage drove by since it was the stars and livery of none other than Noblesir veBasstrolle himself. But in his mind, he was chafing at the fact that the good horse, an animal, had treated him like a person, while the people in the carriage had treated him like an animal.

He was content to leave it at merely chafing, until the Lord’s conveyance passed him, that is. The back of the carriage was packed tight with all kinds of goods, baggages, and trusses. A cream colored wheel with a distinctive black stripe was the main thing that really caught Gully’s eye, and made him think twice about letting the insult go. A Grand Glenoval cheese wheel sat among the Lord’s accoutrements, right there on the back of the cart; it was practically begging to have Gully’s fingers upon it. Such a cheese would make a fitting apology for the Lord’s rude insults, indeed — a sharp cheese to forgive a sharp tongue.

He had half of a mind to run and catch up to the carriage, snatch the fine cheese and make a dash for it, but the carriage had already pulled over in front of a courtly tavern a half block further and the Lord himself was getting out to enter it. Gully’s curiosity grew as he wondered what business the Lord would have in such a tavern, even a fancy one in a wealthy neighborhood. Usually, the noble families forewent mixing with the citizenry, even the rich merchants, and they kept to the grounds of the Folly while visiting the city.

Lord veBasstrolle entered the tavern while his driver stayed outside to keep watch over the cart, which now made it harder for Gully to do as he had intended. As he thought about how to approach his prize, his eye caught on another strange sight. There was a man who had been waiting by a side door of the tavern, around the corner from the carriage. The stranger waited a calculated moment and then entered in after the Lord. What had caught Gully’s attention was something that most others probably wouldn’t have noticed. The man was trying so very hard to be inconspicuous that he was anything but to Gully’s practiced eye. This piqued his interest even more, but he was still more interested in spending time with the cheese wheel than with the Lord or his discreet associate.

Gully thought for a moment more and hesitated since the driver was keeping a close eye all around him now. He’d have to be very careful and very stealthy to get away with it. With sudden inspiration, Gully scratched at his left palm again and thought to himself with a grin,
but why be stealthy when brazen gets the job done?

He approached the same side door the other man had used a moment before. Before entering the side door of the tavern, Gully removed his surcoat, turning it inside out so it showed the dark gray color instead of the brown it was when he had been shooed out of the way. He left the hood down as well, and entered the tavern while making sure the driver had not caught sight of him.

Inside, his eyes scanned the room in a second, and confirmed that Lord veBasstrolle and his companion were nowhere to be seen. Gully had assumed they’d take a private room upstairs for their meeting since the visitor wasn’t keen to be noticed and since the Lord was too privileged to bother associating with the commoners below.

He held for a moment, trying to decide how cheap a man the Lord was. A man of nobility should offer a belder coin for the task Gully would claim, but he doubted Lord veBasstrolle was that man. Instead, he pulled two swallowstamps out of one of his pockets, then walked straight out the tavern’s front door and directly up to the back of veBasstrolle’s carriage.

The driver immediately called after him, “Oy! What you think you’re doing, yeh sodden fool? Get away from the carriage there!” The driver threw his wide-brimmed hat on the seat and jumped down to stop Gully. He pulled down on his dirty tunic underneath his vest and straightened up to his full height.

Gully grinned, showing all his teeth minus the one he had lost the day before, and slipped into a country brogue without even thinking about it. He held up the swallowstamps for the driver to see and exclaimed, “Your esteemed Lord, the Noblesir veBasstrolle ’imself, just gave me two spits and bade me a-bring him a few provisions from the cart, sir!” Without waiting for a reply, he began to pull at the cheese to free it from its nest of packages. As he did so, he spotted a jug of fine mead next to it, and wondered if he should press his luck. The mead certainly looked like a good one. He glanced over at the driver, who was looking at him with increasing suspicion and temper. Gully had to think quickly because the two swallowstamps were missing the mark. He added as he freed the cheese from the cart, “I tolds the grand noblesir that two stamps seemed a low price for an honest man like me to risk a beating by the innkeeper if I gets meself caught sneaking the goods up to him!”

Gully put the cheese under one arm and pulled the jug of mead out as well as he continued, “His Lordship kicked me hard and told me to stops me babblin’ away, he did! Said to do as I was told and be thankful!” Underneath where the cheese had been was an empty leather satchel, which was precisely what he needed to complete his thievery. He pulled on the satchel to free it and watched the driver to see how he was reacting to the amended story he had fed him. The driver had relaxed, watching Gully in disgust instead of apoplectic anger now, and Gully knew his extra lie had landed perfectly this time.

Gully put the cheese and the jug into the satchel and continued his explanation, “Ah, yes, can’t forget the very satchel what he described! The Lord would box me ears ’til they bled if I did! He said the victuals in the inn weren’t fit for a starving, one-eyed pig! Can you imagine? Didn’t want the innkeeper to see me a-sneaking these up to him!”

The driver smoothed his leather vest again and spat at him, “Earn yer spits quickly, oaf! And don’t be touching the Lord’s other belongings! Begone!”

Gully bowed towards him with a magnificent grin and said brightly, “Aye, of course! Good day to you, sir! I’ve earned meself two spitcoins today with a good deed! A very good deed! I hope you’ve done as much!”

Gully left the scowling driver and walked back into the tavern, the satchel under an arm and concealed by his surcoat. He strode directly past the perplexed look of the owner of the tavern, nodding to him with a polite “Good day, sir,” and then out the side door.