Page 54 of Swordheart
But the hallway was empty. Sarkis followed Bartholomew past an open door to what was clearly the heart of the house.
The room was simple enough, a long table covered in haphazard stacks of papers, with two benches on either side. A spot had been cleared in the papers for a person to eat dinner. But it was not the furniture that attracted the eye.
The walls were covered in…things.Swords and knives, axes and daggers of curious design. Not only weapons, but dozens of objects: strange skulls, the stuffed head of a two-headed calf, masks carved into fantastic shapes, woodwinds with a dozen shafts that no human mouth could possibly have played.
He remembered what Halla had said of this friend. A collector, like Silas. One that she might be able to bribe with strange objects.
When one was oneself a strange object, this took on an unexpectedly sinister life.
“This is Sarkis,” Halla was saying. “He’s a—”
“Friend,” said Sarkis firmly. “Of her great-uncle’s.”
Bartholomew looked briefly puzzled. “Of course, of course. Though, forgive me, but Silas never mentioned you.”
Sarkis shrugged. “It was some time ago. He did me a favor. Probably he thought less of it than I did.”
Halla was looking at him with frank astonishment. Sarkis gave her a brief, hard look.Play along.
She recovered herself, smiling broadly. “Yes, well. Sarkis heard he’d passed away and came to pay his respects.”
Her great-uncle’s friend put a hand over his heart. “Yes. I’m so sorry I could not attend myself.”
“Fortunately,” said Sarkis, “I was able to offer her assistance. And my escort away.”
Bartholomew frowned. “Away?”
Halla groaned. “It’s a really long story…”
Bartholomew gestured her quickly to a bench. “Forgive me. Please, sit!”
He called and a servant girl came out of the kitchen. She was much more neatly kept than the rest of the building, and Sarkis doubted that she lived there. Certainly she seemed a bit embarrassed to have guests. She wiped down the table in front of them and brought out mugs of cider, murmuring apologies as if the clutter was a reflection on her.
Halla waited until she was done, then told Bartholomew the story, heavily abridged. Sarkis was pleased to see how quickly she picked up on the fact that he did not wish his status as the sword to be known. In her version, he had been a guest in the house and had come to her aid when he heard her arguing with Aunt Malva.
Parts of the story strained credibility, but she put so much passion into the bit about sleeping in hedges that it would have taken a harder man than Bartholomew to call her out on the other bits.
Sarkis liked watching her. She waved her hands a lot and her face was never still. It was an odd performance to find pleasure in, perhaps, but he found himself wanting to smile. He scowled fiercely to prevent any trace from escaping.
“And so we’ve been on the road for days,” she finished. “I’m so sorry to barge in on you, Bartholomew, but…”
“No, my dear, not at all!” He waved his hands fretfully. “Of course not! You’re entirely welcome. But how may I help you?” He blanched suddenly. “Ah… you don’t wishmeto marry you, do you?”
“No!” said Sarkis, more forcefully than he intended.
Halla smoothed over the awkward moment by bursting into laughter. “Oh dear! No, no. That’s very sweet of you, but no.”
Their host looked relieved. “Not that you’re not a fine girl, my dear, but… well… I am rather set in my ways, and…”
She giggled. “It’s all right. No, I just hoped we could stay withyou for a day or two. We were on our way to Archon’s Glory and the Temple of the White Rat. I’m hoping that they can help me to get my inheritance.”
“Oh, an excellent thought. Some fine legal minds at the Temple.” Bartholomew nodded. “Not that there should be a problem, of course. Oh dear. What was Silas thinking?”
“If you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t.” She propped her chin up on her hand. “Weren’t you one of the witnesses to his will?”
“Was I?” He thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, I suppose I was. But I didn’treadit. It would have been rude, wouldn’t it? Like I was asking for something.”
Sarkis, who had negotiated mercenary contracts with kings, did not scream,“Always read before you sign!”and shake anyone by the neck. He was rather proud of that.
