Learning a Hard Trade

Jim Webster

Description

When the Urlan knight, Dengan, was killed for the belt he wore his death was swiftly avenged. But some years later his son, Trulor Dengankin tries to discover the secret of the belt. This leads him to attempt to finish the task that cost his father his life. In solving the mystery he has to face such perils of war, savage beastmen, lawyers, and young ladies wishing to purchase ribbon.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 03 juin 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783331413
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
LEARNING A HARD TRADE
Leave them wanting more
By
Jim Webster



Publisher Information
Learning a Hard Trade
First published in 2012
This edition published in 2015
by Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © 2012, 2015 Jim Webster
The right of Jim Webster to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.



Continent Map





Chapter 1
There are safe ways to kill Urlan. No, let me rephrase that, there are ways to kill Urlan that do not lead to their kindred hunting you down like a rabid dog. These mainly involve meeting them sword in hand, face to face, or even in the confusion of a skirmish. That is where Hillan Gor went wrong. When Dengan Dorkin made cutting but probably accurate remarks about Gor’s character, Gor should just have shrugged it off. He shouldn’t have stabbed him in the back an hour later as Dengan helped a lady into her carriage.
Hillan Gor might have been a fool as well as a lawyer but he knew that it was now unwise to linger in North Vale, so he rode north with his three hired bodyguards. He was secure in the expectation that in Colbig he’d be safe. He might even have been right. But he stopped at Colbridge because it was late and they’d seen no sign of pursuit, and he and his bodyguards could spend the night in the Iron Orid. Indeed he felt at home in Colbridge; he was a big landowner along the River Col, mainly due to his skill in writing land contract forfeiture clauses.
But his guards would have to boast about what they’d seen done. So when little Filli heard about it she had to tell Trulor. Filli was a charming little girl and because of this she was regarded by some as the third most dangerous person in Colbridge. Trulor was Dengan’s only son at least as far as is known. He slipped quietly out of the house with a long knife hidden under his shirt, because in Colbridge they dislike blood feuds, even when justified.
Trulor took the path along the river to the Iron Orid, and slipped in through the kitchen door. The guard dog, Grip, half trail hound, half erret, wagged his tail; every dog in Colbridge knew Trulor. No one was about so Trulor picked a bone from off the table and passed it to Grip, who retired under the sink to enjoy this delicacy.
Trulor tiptoed into the corridor that led to the bar, and hearing someone coming, hid behind the cloaks hung on the coat hooks; whoever it was went past him, shutting the bar door behind them. Trulor moved silently down the short corridor after them and was about to open the door when he heard shouts ahead of him in the bar. Carefully, he turned the handle and pushed the door open a little. Looking in he could see Gor’s three body guards running out through the main door; someone had obviously arrived. His bodyguards out of sight, Gor stood up, looked round and spotted the back door. Swiftly he ran towards it, pulled it open, and saw Trulor. At the same moment Trulor saw the broad belt with silver plaques Gor was wearing. This belt Trulor had last seen being worn by his father. With that Trulor thrust the knife forward with both hands, driving the weapon deep through Gor’s stomach and up towards his heart. The lawyer reeled, clutching the hilt, and fell backwards. Trulor stepped forward and pulled the knife out. He was contemplating whether to stab the lawyer again when the main door crashed open and Farrier Sergeant Warbold burst in, bloodied sword in one hand and his battered shield held in front of him. A young Urlan knight, wearing the colours of the Zantkin family followed him. Trulor suddenly felt very alone. Everyone in the bar had drawn aside and there was no one between him and the two Urlan.
Warbold stomped across followed by the young knight. He looked down at Gor, and then carefully wiped his sword blade on the lawyer’s cloak. He looked at Trulor.
“And you are?”
“Trulor Dengankin.”
Warbold sheathed his sword and said to his companion. “Well you cannot say he didn’t have the right.”
The knight knelt down and looked Trulor intently in the eyes. “How old are you Trulor?” He asked, attempting to keep his voice neutral.
“Seven, sir.”
***
Obviously the law had to intervene and in Colbridge the law looked calmly upon the situation it discovered. Two Urlan gentlemen had been in hot pursuit of a fleeing suspect and this suspect had been killed resisting arrest. On close inquiry it seems that the killer of this suspect was another Urlan gentleman, a fact vouchsafed for by the aforementioned two Urlan gentlemen, who could be safely presumed to know this sort of thing. The law nodded wisely, and regarded the matter as closed. Still this sort of thing takes time, so it was four days later before Trulor’s kindred could gather for a family conference.
Trulor’s father was dead, his mother had died some years previously and he was currently being raised by his mother’s older sister, Erminette, along with her own son, Phisguay.
Erminette was present, along with her husband, Ulfanoray, a merchant, land owner and town councillor. Also present was Telil Zantkin, Warbold having abandoned them all for the delights of the Iron Orid. Here the landlord’s dark cellar ale was nearly as heavy as Warbold’s own. Potentially present, his arrival hanging over the gathering in much the same way that the stench of a tannery hangs over a small town, was the lawyer Mr Gleitz, of Kirthoem, Kirthoem, Gleitz and Kirthoem of Colbig.
It was Erminette who was the immediately practical one; she had sent Trulor and Phisguay up to their room. Once they were safely out of the way she poured small glasses of infusions for the three of them, and pushed a plate of iced cakes across to Telil. Then she asked, “So what do we do with Trulor?”
Ulfanoray tried sipping his drink, made a face and commented, “The boy needs taking in hand. He wants only to be Urlan like his father.”
They both looked at Telil who had his mouth full of iced cake. He swallowed hastily before replying. “If you want I can arrange fostering. It will not be difficult, there is no doubt as to his father, he has been well brought up, and his actions have been perfectly acceptable.”
At this Erminette cringed somewhat and Telil added hastily, “If a little precocious.”
He paused. “He needs two sponsors; Warbold and I will be happy to serve, and Lord Eklin will accept him, especially when he hears the full story.” Ulfanoray, with the pragmatism that comes to every father with experience asked, “What about money?”
“That isn’t a question; he is his father’s son.”
Ulfanoray looked bleak. “That’s what I mean. I liked Dengan, we all did, but beyond his horse, arms and one suit of clothing, I doubt he had an alar to his name.
Telil waved a hand dismissively as he spoke. “Trulor will train as a sergeant, which means he will be supported by Lord Eklin. Later on, if he proves himself, he could win knighthood.”
Erminette looked doubtful, “A sergeant?”
Ulfanoray on the other hand seemed positively cheerful, his voice almost jovial as he replied. “Absolutely dear, think about it, what else can he do? In his reading and numbers he is far behind Phisguay, but on the other hand he is good with his hands and absolutely honest, even to his disadvantage.”
“But surely even an Urlan sergeant ought to read and write.”
Telil nodded his agreement and, realising the other two seemed to expect rather more of him, decided to make a suggestion. “He’s only seven. What if we tell him that I will come and collect him in two years time, provided he can read, write, and cope with numbers. Will that encourage him to greater efforts in the classroom?”
It was now Erminette’s turn to look happier. Not much happier, though; her voice trembled a little as she spoke. “Without a doubt; but will we ever see him again? I realise he isn’t our son, but he’s very much part of the family and he’s good for Phisguay, who’s so delicate.”
Telil reached for another iced cake and spoke decisively. “That isn’t a problem. Once he has his own horse and duties, he’ll be expected to ride up to Colbridge at regular intervals.” He grinned, “We’re Urlan, and family is important, even when family aren’t Urlan.”
They carried on sipping their bitter herbal infusions, making small talk and waiting for the lawyer. Eventually there was a knock on the door and the maid escorted Mr Gleitz into the room.
He was a tall man, still angular but with the spreading paunch expected of a successful lawyer in his middle years. His britches and jacket were of a rich plum colour, the slightly darker tone of his britches indicating that he was a gentleman who habitually bought two pairs of britches with each jacket. His knee stockings were the purest white, his cravat, held in place by an amethyst headed stud, was a cascade of scarlet flowing across a pale yellow shirt. The whole outfit was set off with a cummerbund in cloth of gold. On his right hand he wore two rings, and in his left he carried a large bundle of papers. He was indeed the very image of a Colbig lawyer and an Upper of some distinction.
He bowed slightly in a stiffly formal way, and took the empty seat opposite Telil without waiting to be invited. He laid his papers before him, spre