Caj tapped Rai firmly on the back of the head with his own club.

“I win.” He said tersely. Rai shot him a dirty look.

“Nae,” The boy said angrily, “Really? I had nae noticed that ye took me own club from me hand and ‘it me with it.” Rai rubbed at his stump angrily, “At the least ye could use only one hand. It’d be fairer.”

Caj forced away the sympathy he felt for the boy in front of him. He had trounced Rai the same way three times in the past ten minutes. He would continue to do so until the boy either learned to defend from it for himself or asked Caj to tell him. Caj looked Rai in the eyes.

“There is no honor in combat Rai. No fairness. You seize whatever advantages you can to kill your enemy. Reset.” Rai grumbled under his breath, but reset like he was supposed to. Before they started again, Caj asked his question, as per their agreement. Any time he trounced the boy, Rai would answer an etiquette related question.

“Tell me Rai, what is the correct way for a knight to refer to a duke?” Caj smiled at Rai’s relieved expression. He had picked a question that he knew the boy would be able to answer.

“Yer Excellency.” Rai replied succinctly, looking proud of himself. Caj decided to pop his ballooning pride.

“How do you address a duke?” Caj asked pointedly. Rai deflated.

“I don’t.” he grumbled, “I just hold the door and keep me mouth shut.” Caj patted him on the shoulder consolingly.

“That’s alright Half-head,” he said affectionately, “A good fighter is silent.” Rai perked up a bit, despite the lack of any connection between the two subjects. Caj had found that Rai was often more comfortable with his nickname than real one. Any time that Caj wanted to be encouraging to the lad, he used the moniker. Emma, unlike her brother seemed to hold no particular affection towards her alias, and also seemed to have adjusted better. She used what little pay she received to purchase storybooks, while Rai obsessively hoarded his as an emergency fund.

Part of the reason that Rai was being quizzed on how to treat a Duke was that Caj was expecting a visit from Adarian MacNeil any day now, and he didn’t want to give the man any reason to hate or fear him. He had seen the Duke’s personal men following him. Like Caj, they were ‘knighted’ in the service of a member of the nobility, although the one who held their leash was a Duke rather than a Lord. Caj already had a performance planned for the benefit of the Duke of the Sea on his part, but he didn’t want to draw his charges into it. Rai needed to be the perfect servant for that meeting.

Caj put errant thoughts out of his mind, focusing on the moment. Rai was getting decent with his club, and Caj was thinking that the mace might be a good weapon for the boy, but he would like to give him more capability than just thwacking someone one the head. They squared up once more. Finally, Rai asked the question Caj had been waiting for.

“Oi, big-man?” He said hesitantly, “What have I been doin’ wrong-like?” Caj smiled at his pupil, making the lad shift uncomfortably.

“You worry too much about your left side,” Caj replied, “It’s no wonder, considering that you are blind on that side, and have quite a lot of injuries over there. However, while it might be expected, it is still something you need to work past, and learn to adjust to. Learn to use your hearing and smell to judge things some.” Rai nodded thoughtfully. “So,” Caj continued, “I’ve bought you a gift.” He walked over to the crate that sat perpetually in the training yard, and pulled out a strange looking shield, followed by a weapon he knew that Rai wouldn’t recognize.

The shield was made of dark steel, and had a cuff that would fit snugly over Rai’s stump rather than a handle. The cuff had straps which could be tightened over the boy’s forearm. The weapon was called a Jitte, and was frequently used in the Vencheng Empire. It was a simple affair, just a metal rod slightly thicker than Caj’s thumb set into a blackened metal hilt. The top of the hilt flared out on one side, forming a guard that ran along the bar that could be used for ensnaring armor or clothing. The shield had been commissioned a month ago by Caj. It wasn’t anything special, but it would do for now. Rai gasped as he took the items into his own hand, running his fingers over them, enamored. Caj smiled to see it.

Caj helped the boy to strap the small harness and leather case for the rod to his hip, and then fasten the shield on his arm. Rai was absolutely enamored with the items. Caj had gotten the Jitte from Bietre’s arsenal after gaining permission for his young student to use it.

“Big-man… Caj,” Rai gulped, “I can nae take these… they have tae cost a fortune.” He rested the Jitte across the crook of his shortened arm, running his fingers across the amazingly smooth and polished surface of the metal. “This club alone…” Caj rested his hand on the young boy’s shoulder.

“Half-head. You are my student. It would be a disservice for me not to give it to you. I promise that the money spent on this project was well within my means.” It was true. Caj’s salary as Bietre’s ‘guard’ and a knight in the man’s service was considerably larger than that of a senior undertaker at the boneyard, sitting at over 300 royals a year. More than enough to support the frugal lifestyle of Caj and his wards. He would need to ascertain suitable clothing for Rai before the Dukes visit though. Rai had been given a manservant’s uniform of course, but it was in the colors of Bietre’s house. For what Caj desired, that simply would not do. He pushed aside errant thoughts and looked at the young man. Rai looked nearly set to cry. Caj slapped the boy’s shoulder. “C’mon, Form up.” Rai did so without issue. Caj grinned at him. “Your problem is that you don’t have adequate defense for your left side. For now, we will train with the shield, although I will eventually expect you to go without one. If you need further advice on what to do about a weak side of your body, talk to Undertaker Narm. He has been dealing with the issue for longer than you’ve drawn breath, sure as sure…”

***

Caj inhaled deeply, standing outside the entrance to The Torn Bodice. It had been two years and a week since he had last seen it, since Narm had entered and bought the clothing he was now wearing. Clothing which was starting to become a little too tight for comfort.

Caj judged that he had just finished with his last bout of growing, putting him at a solid few fingers taller than Narm, and a solid hand or so shorter than Bietre. That still put him at a height with almost any other man in the city, the exception being the burly Forgemaster he had also visited this morning. He had left his weapons behind to have some maintenance done on them. It was purely aesthetic, and not something he would normally bother with, but he was still expecting his visit from Adarian MacNeil. The man had taken considerably longer than Narm’s estimate of a month to ask for a meeting. Caj was expecting the man towards the middle of next week, and everything needed to be ready before then.

Caj puffed out his cheeks resignedly, and opened the door to the shop. A small bell that hung over the door jingled upon his entry, and he looked around curiously, unable to find the source of the sound. The interior of The Torn Bodice was dim, but clean and well kept. There was a single round table in the middle of the room with four well carved chairs. Across the room from Caj, there was a booth. It looked like the payment stalls he had seen at the lower docks, the places where one would go to book passage. Curiously, there was a door within the booth, opening into whatever was beyond the back wall. It was the only door in the wall, meaning that to enter or exit, one would have to go through the booth itself. Bottles and flasks lined every wall, in all shapes and sizes, and Caj was duly impressed. It was not a tavern or inn as he expected, but rather a liquor store. He examined the room closely, lost in thought. A low, growling voice dragged him from his thoughts.

“G’day mate, can I help you? Or are you just going to gawk about for the next century?”

Caj jumped, face flushing embarrassedly. He looked again at the booth, and blinked. Sitting on a tall stood behind the counter of the booth, was quite possibly the strangest man Caj had ever seen. If the man was standing, he could’ve been no more than four and a half feet tall, but he was as broad in the shoulder as Narm. His had a thickset waist and burly, strong-looking arms. The short man’s brown hair was shaved on the sides and long on the top, pulled back and wound around a round piece of wood. Two long braids started at his temples, and looped back to join the strange stick-bun he had at the back. In contrast to his complex hair, he had a simple, if thick, beard that went to the center of his chest, braided with small iron rings. He had surprisingly large, round ears.

“What’s the matter mate? Never seen a midget before? Or are you just a Bludger?” Caj blinked. He didn’t know what a Bludger was, but based on context it didn’t sound like anything good.

“What?” Caj said, confused, “No, I’ve seen short people before…”

Just never one like you. He finished in his mind. The Midget laughed.

“Just never one like me, eh mate?” He asked with a grin. He chuckled again at Caj’s bemused expression. “Where I’m from, they call my people dwarves, mate. If I may ask, are you here for business, or just to make me crack the shit?” Caj almost laughed. He had absolutely no idea what ‘crack the shit’ meant, but he would just as soon not find out.

I wonder if it’s unique to dwarves? He snorted, moving forward and trying his best to remain stoic and businesslike. He cleared his throat, but couldn’t entirely wipe the smile from his eyes.

“I have business with Mistress Esha and Master Hoodah today.” Caj said, calling to mind the names Narm had spoken two years back. The dwarf’s bushy brown eyebrows rose. He leaned forward, suddenly aggressively assertive in his posture.

“Look here mate, I dunno where you heard those names, but you don’t do business with Hoodah and Esha unless you know somebody who knows somebody. They’re private people. So. You just turn your stickybeak arse around and walk through that door, or I’ll send you out myself.” Caj was once more dumbfounded. He thought quickly.

“I know Narm!” He spat out quickly, “He made a purchase for me a few years back.” The dwarf stopped.

“Narm?” he said questioningly, “Who the bloody… OH! Old bloke, one eye, covered in scars?” He asked with a grin. Caj smiled back,

“Has a smile like a wild animal but is secretly soft and fluffy on the inside?” Caj asked facetiously. The dwarf let out a bark of laughter.

“That’s the one!” The dwarf crowed. He stuck out his hand to Caj, and they shook. “Name’s Tafldar Coldforge, but my mates call me Tafl. Any man who is friends with Narm can’t be all bad, so I’ll hear you out at least.” Caj nodded gratefully.

“I appreciate it Tafl. My name is Sir Caj Donovan, and my friends just call me Caj. Please feel free to do so.” Caj added the last as an afterthought. There was no reason to be impolite after all. Tafl nodded.

“How can I help you today Caj?” he asked with a helpful expression now. Caj reached into the satchel at his side, pulling out two sets of slightly worn clothing, along with a few sheets of paper.

“Two years ago, Narm purchased these clothes for me,” he began, “I’ve outgrown them since then, although the vests still fit me. I would like to commission four new sets in the same style as well as a new pair of boots to match.” Tafl pulled out a sheet of paper and began jotting down notes. “I would also like to commission four other new sets of clothing in the following patterns and measurements. Two of each.” Caj shoved a couple of his papers across the table. “The measurements needed for all my orders are included in the following documents, as well as the descriptions. I leave the rest up to Mistress Esha. I will also need three bottles of your finest brandy, and three flasks of your hardest Firewater.” Tafl didn’t bat an eye at any of the requests save for the last. He looked at Caj quizzically.

“Normally, Folks want one or the other, mate.” Caj grinned, fully aware of how unnerving it made him look.

“I entertain wide selections of individuals,” Caj replied smoothly. His grin did not have the intended effect of making Tafl wilt. The dwarf just snorted as he continued writing.

“Boyo, I’ve been doing work for Mister Narm on and off for thirty years. I knew him when he still had both eyes. That little toothy grin of yours isn’t liable to bother me.” Caj shrugged, admitting defeat.

The dwarf read over the order in its entirety before telling Caj the price. It was a number that would’ve boggled Caj’s mind a few years before, but now he had more than enough to pay it, although it was still surely an expense. When Tafl told Caj that the Items would be sent to the Noblis estate within three days he was shocked. The cheeky midget just grinned at him and said,

“Priority order mate, because I like you.”

Caj didn’t know how so much work could be done so fast, but he chose not to question it. He also chose not to enquire as to where Hoodah and Esha were, as it appeared to be a sensitive topic. What with him having to ‘know people who know people’ to do business with them. In the end, he paid the fee and left the shop, promising to stop by for all and any ‘clothing and cocktail needs’ he might have.