A Dramatic Reveal

Martel wished that Maximilian had told him about the gambling in the Chamber of Earth long before. Simply by wagering a bit of silver and spending a few minutes casting spells, Martel had earned as much as one outing with the Night Knives. While he found it hard to respect the young nobles so willing to gamble away their wealth, he could not complain when it benefited him. If he could keep this going, he would not have to worry about earning coin from any dubious sources such as Lady Pearl.

He did notice during the second combat lesson next day, how several of the mageknights scowled in his direction; him beating two of them at the same time without any advantage probably did not sit well with them. But Martel had no reason to care about their wounded pride. If they wanted a rematch, they would have to risk silver.

Moira did not appear, giving Martel a reprieve from the threat of detention as well. All in all, Malday's lessons went well, and Martel had an evening out with his friends to look forward to. But first, before the Four Flagon Tavern awaited them, Martel had another errand.

***

Martel's destination was the harbour, which took him straight through the market. This suited him as well, as his purse felt full, and he was in the mood to spend. He picked out a wooden comb for his first purchase before finding a stall offering honey cakes. His purchases done, Martel continued to the docks and Julia's insula.

She was home this time, letting him in. "I brought a few things." Martel handed over the honey cake first, which she grabbed with both hands and began biting into as she sat down on her mattress.

"Thanks," she mumbled between chewing. "Aren't you going to eat yours?"

"Both for you."

"That's nice." Julia broke off a big part of her current cake and handed it to him. "You should at least taste it."

"Alright." Martel smiled, accepting the piece. "I also got you this." Placing the piece of honey cake in his mouth with one hand, he handed over the comb. "I figured you'd like one of these."

Julia accepted the comb and began running it through her hair, though it immediately got stuck on knots. "I haven't done that in a long time."

"Well, now you can." Martel's eyes fell on the small cauldron in the corner of the room. "Oh, my teacher has taught me a new recipe, though probably it won't be that interesting. It keeps you cold, which we don't really need."

"What about a potion that makes you sleep?" Julia asked.

He gave an inspecting look. "You have trouble sleeping?"

"Sometimes. My dreams aren't nice, so I wake up, and then I can't fall asleep again. Which sometimes makes me so tired, I wish I could sleep, no matter how bad the dreams."

"I understand," Martel said, even if he could not imagine having nightmares so evil, they would keep him awake. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks." She carefully put the comb next to her doll and resumed eating her honey cake.

***

From the harbour, Martel went straight to the bridge district. It took him a little while to find his destination, having to ask the locals for direction, but eventually, he stood before the Four Flagon Tavern. The building was large, certainly able to accommodate a great number of patrons and host festivities. It was built in stone rather than wood, which was typical in the northern part of the quarter, near the noble district. The sun had already set and last bell rung, and the place seemed busy with traffic in and out of the doors.

Entering, Martel found the indoors suited to the outer appearance. Nothing looked to be in disrepair; tables and chairs were in good condition, tapestries decorated the walls, and the serving staff wore good clothing without stains or signs of wear. Plenty of seats were taken by customers in high spirits. It made Martel wonder why he had never heard of this place before, considering he had frequented the bridge district often. Though granted, when it came to visiting taverns, he had never had reasons to seek elsewhere than The River Pearl in this neighbourhood.

He walked around a little while, looking for Maximilian. Sets of stairs led both up and down, which felt unusual. An upper floor was customary, but it looked like this establishment also served customers in the cellars; such a location was typically only ever used for storage.

Just when Martel figured he would have to look elsewhere, an arm shot up and waved to get his direction. Following the signal, Martel found his friend seated at a small table, defending an empty chair from would-be robbers in need of seating. A full mug stood alone, waiting for him; Maximilian had his in his hand.

Taking a seat, Martel grabbed the tankard. "Much obliged." They clanked their drinking vessels together, and both took a sip.

"Any idea who sent you that message?" asked the mageknight.

"I don't see anyone I recognise." Martel shrugged.

"Well, they were not lying. When I went to order, someone asked for my name. Once I gave it, these were on the house." Maximilian gestured towards their ale.

Curious – even though the note had been sent to Martel, they also knew and included Maximilian.

Glancing around, sipping from his mug, Martel noticed a large group of people appearing from the basement. "Hang on, what's going on?" he asked, watching scores coming up the stairs to fill the common room.

"Maybe they closed down the lower room, forcing everyone up," Maximilian suggested.

"Could be." Martel shrugged and continued to drink.

***

With the people from downstairs, the place was packed, and Martel did not notice as someone wove through the crowd towards him. Just as the man reached the two acolytes, Maximilian looked up with a frown; next, their new companion slapped his hand down on Martel's shoulder. "You came!"

Taken aback, Martel glanced up to see a familiar face. It was the leader of the wandering troupe that also employed Regnar. "Theo! So you sent the message!"

The storyteller grinned. "Indeed I did! We haven't forgotten what you did for us."

"Why all the secrecy?"

"For dramatic flair, of course," came the reply, to which Maximilian snorted. "What do you think of our new home?"

"Yours? You own this tavern?"

"Ah, nothing so grand. But the basement has a stage, which the owner has invited us to take over. We are wanderers no more," Theo declared with a grand gesture. "Every night, we perform. You must come and see us!"

"Sure!" Martel looked at Maximilian. "Tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good to me," the mageknight growled. "What about that old codger with his pipe, is he still with you? I rather liked him."

"Regnar, yes," Theo said while nodding. "He is not in the city right now, but he'll join us eventually. Which will be good – lots of plays that rely on his magic."

Remembering his last time spent with Regnar, Martel felt more ambivalent about the hedge mage, but he felt ready to let it go. Certainly he enjoyed the actors and their company; having them permanently in the city would be nice. "Alright. Well, we'll see what you guys can do on your own tomorrow!"

Theo grinned again. "You won't be disappointed!"