He returned to the tavern the next night to keep his appointment with Braggock. When he arrived, Alessandra was not yet there, but Braggock was.
‘Ah, Soren. I had wondered if you would show, but I see I worried unnecessarily. Come, we have much to discuss,’ he said. He gestured to one of the more secluded booths, and nodded to the barman to bring more drinks.
They sat, and Soren felt a growing sense of unease. Not only of the possible mistake he had made in meeting with Braggock, but also for fear of being seen with this man by Alessandra. The confident determination with which he had set out to make this arrangement was fleeing him, but it was too late to turn back now.
‘Now, my lad, down to business. There is a package being delivered from one of the ships in the outer harbour to my associate on the docks two nights from tonight. He will need an escort to ensure he gets home safely with it. Are you up to it?’
Soren responded in the affirmative, but with a degree of hesitation that he did his best to conceal from Braggock. The barbarian dressed in the fashion of a citizen of the Duchy, but his manner was still that of a plainsman. It both made him fit in and seem out of place at the same time, which unsettled Soren.
‘There shouldn’t be any killing involved, but you might have to frighten off a thug or two chancing his arm. All the same, I’d bring a set of blades if I were you. A fright is all most of them need, and the glimpse of steel is usually enough to take care of that. If it comes to it though, do you have the stomach to draw some blood?’ asked Braggock.
Soren nodded, keeping his face a mask.
‘Good. Forty crowns for you, shouldn’t take more than an hour. Half now and half when you’re done.’
Soren nearly inhaled the ale he was drinking. Forty crowns was more than a dockworker would make in a month. What could be of such value? Then it occurred to him. Dream seed; the zombie maker. The slums were littered with addicts, who lived only to breath in the sickly sweet fumes it gave off when burned. They wandered about all day, like zombies, searching for their next fix. It was also said to be popular among the aristocracy, although the purer, more expensive form they enjoyed had fewer of the unpleasant side effects experienced by the poor. It was imported from the south, one of the many far off lands that Soren was only vaguely aware of. Doctors could import it by special licence; otherwise it was highly illegal.
‘Agreed,’ Soren said, his mind snapping firm to the decision.
‘Meet him by the steps on the slip in Oldtown at sundown. Give him this to identify yourself.’ He handed Soren a small metal disc, not much bigger than a florin coin with some symbols etched onto both sides. ‘My associate will be looking out for you. Wear dark clothes and the best of luck to you,’ Braggock said, with that smile that looked out of place on his face.
There was still no sign of Alessandra, so Soren left with a mix of relief and disappointment swirling in his gut. Relief that she had not seen him with Braggock, disappointment that he had not seen her. He passed the side door of the tavern that led to the residence above and heard the squeak of hinges.
‘I got the evening off,’ said a voice from the darkness that made Soren jump.
He turned to see Alessandra standing in the doorway.
‘I’m sorry about the other night,’ he replied. ‘It’s just that merchant. How can I compete with him, all his money and fine clothes?’
‘Silly boy!’ she said, stepping forward and cupping his face in her hands. He noticed she was wearing the pendant he had given her. ‘Money is nice, but it isn’t everything. I love the amulet you gave me, it’s absolutely beautiful, but I would far rather you had given it to me yourself. It’s the meaning behind it that matters, not the value. I’d trade it in a heartbeat if it meant being able to spend more time with you, but we are so busy, and I have to do what my Uncle asks of me. He’s been so good to me since father left and he desperately needs the help. There’s nothing to be jealous about though. I like you because you’re different to all the others, the merchant included.’ She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder and then looked back to Soren. ‘My uncle will be busy in the tavern tonight. Will you come in?’ she said, and then with a brazen look in her eye and a cheeky smile on her mouth, ‘I’ll show you how little you have to be jealous about.’