Soren slipped out of the Academy early and stopped at a silversmith’s shop on his way to the Sail and Sword. He had Alessandra’s name engraved on the reverse of the huntsman’s amulet he had been given in Ruripathia. Aside from the block of Telastrian steel that would not have made an attractive gift to anyone other than a swordsman, it was the only thing of value that he owned.
The prosperous looking merchant was there again when Soren arrived. He regularly bought rounds for the other sailors at the bar. His sailors, Soren assumed. As he had been on the previous night, he was propped up against the bar, joking with Alessandra every time she was there, watching her hawkishly when she was not. He was the focus of attention at the bar, the type of man who was friends with everyone. Money was the key. Without it, charm was useless. It was the only way he could keep Alessandra, to show her that he would be able to give her a good life. As he watched the merchant another man caught his eye and a solution to his problem formed in his mind.
‘Mr Braggock?’ Soren asked.
‘Just Braggock, lad,’ he replied, his face breaking into a smile that did not seem to suit him.
‘You mentioned before that you might have some work. I’m a student at the Academy,’ said Soren.
‘I did indeed. What’s your name then?’
‘Soren.’
‘Soren?’ asked Braggock.
‘Yes, just Soren.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll tell you what, Soren, come back to me in a day or two, and I should have something for you. The work pays well, lad, but I’m not going to lie to you, it’s dangerous,’ said Braggock.
‘I know how to handle myself. I’ll see you here in two days then.’
Braggock turned back to his drink at the bar and Soren cast a look to Alessandra, who was still laughing with the merchant, although he thought he caught her give him an unusual look. He waited for some time to talk to Alessandra, to give her the gift, but as was always the case these days, the tavern was busy and she could not afford him anything more than a warm smile.
It grew late and he could not remain there any longer. On his way out, he gave the small paper packet that he had put the amulet in to her uncle, the tavern keeper, and asked that he give it to her, which he said he would. He left the tavern and walked out onto the street. The air had more of a chill in it than he had noticed recently, the bite making him think fleetingly of Ruripathia.
He had only gone a few paces up the street when he heard a voice calling his name. He turned to see Alessandra standing by the door.
‘Going already?’ she asked, smiling.
‘Your rich merchant friend seems to be keeping you occupied. I need to get back to the Academy to train,’ he said.
‘Oh, don’t be like that. You know I have to be nice to the customers. My uncle would tan my hide if I wasn’t,’ she replied, detecting the sulky tone in his voice.
‘Well, I need to go,’ he said.
‘Will you come tomorrow?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I promise that I’ll have some time for you tomorrow.’
‘I’ll try,’ he replied. He turned again to walk away, but she called out to him again.
‘Promise me you’ll stay away from that man you were talking to. He’s bad news.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, ignoring her request, before walking on into the darkness of the night.
He did not go back to the Sail and Sword the next night. Instead he spent it with Bryn in the salon, channelling his frustration into each attack, discarding his flourishes for determined thrusts. He tried desperately to find a way to consciously bring on the Gift, the Moment, or whatever it was, but it seemed that the harder he focussed on it, the more nebulous that it became. He felt that the Gift was influencing him, but he could never clearly identify how much, and no matter how hard he reached for it, he could not bring on the Moment, if that was in fact what he had experienced when fighting the belek.
He attacked relentlessly, without rest or fatigue, constantly willing on his ability to envelop him completely, so that he could demonstrate to Bryn exactly how good he could be, and in some way prove to himself that he was enough for Alessandra. His determination was such that he had even earned a grudging nod of approval from Bryn as he left to return to his room.