Crossing Paths
Chapter One

A dark chill moved in with the cloud of smoke that surrounded Arnan as he sat in the back corner of the room. He hated the stench that inhabited the Cree Port Inn, but this was where he had been told to wait. Arnan cringed backwards as another stream of smoke hit him. In a way it reminded him of a vipers tongue reaching out to consume whoever sought to cross it’s path. Something was wrong. He had been waiting in the common room of the Inn for several hours. None of his employers had ever been this late before. Arnan could not ignore the cold tingle that ran up the back of his spine, it was an all too familiar sign that someone was watching him. Looking around, with a studied calm that would not betray the panic welling up inside of him, Arnan identified each of the patrons of the disreputable inn. All the men he saw were regulars; fishermen, sailors, the odd workman. All these men seeking to drown their woes in strong drink and pipes. He knew each by their habits and customs, he had after all been studying them for a year. Each was engrossed in their own personal vice, none of them paid any attention to the unremarkable man who always sat in the back corner of their pub. His green cloak and hidden face was an all too familiar sight to them. Arnan knew this, and yet he could not shake the feeling of impending doom. Someone was new, and someone was fixated on him and his actions. The fact that Arnan could not see the intruder only made him more uncomfortable. An assassin? A spy? He didn’t know, and he had everything he could do to remain in his seat. It had been too long. His new employer must have met his fate by the hand of some angry debtor. Regardless of the circumstance it was time that he left. Turning with a lazy manner, Arnan adorned a grin and signaled one of the barmaids to collect the few coins he owed to the establishment. That was when he spotted her. There was a woman wearing a dark maroon cloak with wisps of blonde hair that would have softened her face if it were not for the cold lethalness of her blue eyes. Arnan relaxed a bit when he identified her. She was not an assassin, and as spies went she was an immature one. Another poor wounded girl pulled into the service of some crazed mad man who wanted revenge. Arnan purposely ignored his thoughts, knowing that the questions of who sent her would only lead him down a devastating path of panic. He needed to focus on nonchalantly leaving and loosing her in the crowded streets of Port Cree. He had learned that even an immature spy could easily sense fear, if he made one wrong move Arnan would immediately loose his upper hand. It was thirteen paces to the door, and they were quickly covered with a firm step and the swoosh of his deep evergreen, traveling cloak. In a few moments Arnan heard the telltale sound of a soft treading woman’s footsteps behind him, she was more immature then he had thought. Quick calculations ran through his mind as he created a virtual route through the city to loose this unwanted follower. He wasn’t sure if her lack of tact would be a liability or an asset as he maneuvered his way home. Loose cannons were dangerous things to behold in the politics of the day. Still, he had never been successfully followed through the ever running circus in Port Cree. It was a blaze of color: red, green, blue, bright fuschias, and deep purples. Arnan moved through the crowds of people and animals calmly, yet smoothly. Stopping to toss a coin at a grateful dancing girl, He slipped between the rows of colorful silk clothing for purchase and on to pass through the many stands boasting bright jewels and gold chains. The object was to be calm, and appear a model citizen who was unintentionally getting swept away in the crowd, and the object never failed. Arnan breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that the woman was nowhere in sight. A sudden spell of happiness came over his heart and he nonchalantly rolled a coin across his arm and down into the hands of a carnival street boy who offered Arnan an apple in return. Yes, It was a good day to be alive. The momentary danger, after all, only added a feeling of euphoric triumph. It was unlikely that he would ever see the woman again, Arnan was ripe and ready to hold to the thieves’ motto that “Once is only a warning from the gods to pay your dues, actual danger lurks in twos.” He would keep a wary eye out, yet how could an amateur really track him? Taking a bite from his apple, he began to skip and dance with the carnival people as he made his way home. It was a good day.

___________

Arnan started from a fitful slumber at the sound of a door slamming and little feet pattering up the white washed stairs. He groaned, and rolled over, knowing that it was only Pepper who came running home. Most likely carrying some little treasure that would be his world for a few days. Of course it would have no real value, but Arnan had quickly learned that to a seven year old boy even a grain of sand could be worth more then gold if it came with a story. Arnan opened a single eye and watched as the boy worked excitedly at something he had placed on the table. Almost on cue, Pepper picked up what appeared to be a cloth picture and brought it over for inspection, and stood impatiently bouncing from one foot to another as he waited for a response. A smile from Arnan was all that was necessary.

“The woman from the circus, the one who gives me milk sometimes?”

“Mother Avia” Arnan patiently supplied the name of the woman they had met just a few days before in a disturbance Pepper had caused among the stands.

“Yeah, Avia, with the funny accent? She had a friend today. He was a man with an even funnier accent then Mother… uh… Abia, and he came with all sorts of pictures like this. He said this belonged to a prince who fought a lot of wars and ruled for a very long time. He said that it was a prince who looked just like me. And, and, he said that maybe I’ll fight in wars one day. Wouldn’t that be fun? Then we’d get to fight the bad guys for real!”

Pepper stopped with a breathless grin and Arnan could see that there was a glorified battle taking place within the boy’s imagination. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he began to think of all the trouble Pepper would get into as the years went by and his imagination went even more wild then it already was.

“Do you like it?”

There was something in the way that Pepper asked that showed a deep abiding need for approval. Arnan grabbed the boy and tousled his hair.

“Very much, now go get some supper and let a poor old man get some sleep.”

Pepper, now satisfied that his new treasure was well liked and hungry as always, ran to the cupboards and began digging around triumphantly coming up with bread and cheese.

“Oh, Uncle? There’s a woman outside who says she has a letter for you from your sister.” This message delivered he anxiously returned to the task shoving food into his mouth.

Unbidden images of Wren flooded Arnan’s mind, and a soft feeling of comfort over took his senses. It lasted only a moment until he realized the absurdity of it all. Wren always sent her letters by way of the falcons, she would have never entrusted any of her letters to a human being, it would be too risky. The letters could be lost, and however small the chance would be news could still be carried back to Duard through human carriers. No, she would have never given it to a woman. A sneaking suspicion dawned at the back of Arnan’s mind that threatend their very exsistence. It forced him to rise from the soft blankets and slowly walk towards the windows. Sure enough, waiting in the street below their dwelling was a woman with blonde hair wearing a maroon cloak. Arnan muttered an oath under his breath and began gathering a few items hurriedly from around the room.

“Pepper, we have to go. Now.”

The little boy stared up at him with unmasked concern and the edges of panic, just enough to show Arnan he had been too hasty. The boy could not panic; above all else, if Pepper suddenly panicked their escape through the rear door would fail. Arnan tried to smile down at the boy in the most reassuring way he could conjure.

“Don’t look so worried Pepper,” Arnan lifted the boys chin and looked deeply into the questioning eyes, “We’re just going to go visit Simon and Mauria, that’s all.”