Vedran's Hand

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

If there was one thing Dragon had learned, it was to repay his debts. Which is how he found himself leaving the palace and walking to one of the poorer sections of the city.

Neat cobblestone had given way to rough gravel, and he kept a close watch on his purse as he adroitly bypassed the clever fingers of thieves. There was the rich scent of heavily spiced meat roasting mixed with the sour stench of improper waste disposal and poverty.

He hadn't been back to this section of the city in years, but after a few minutes of wandering he felt almost as though he had never left. He could see himself once again as that helpless child shivering in an alley, covered in human filth and certain that he was going to die.

It was the easiest thing to go back to a small, thatched roof house he had never thought to see again. The house was well-cared for, though the poorness of its owner was obvious the closer he came. The quality of the workmanship could not compensate for the cheap supplies used to build the small shack.

He drew in a deep breath and approached the wooden door, rapping smartly with his right hand. Then he waited, both hoping and dreading what was to happen.

His sharp hearing caught the sound of movement inside, then the thud of footsteps. The lock clicked over and the door opened to show a tall man with graying brown hair and a scarred lower lip. "Yes?"

"Hello, Master Vonn," Dragon said slowly. He felt as though someone was pressing down on his chest; it was hard to breathe. "Do you remember me?"

Vonn looked around quickly, then met Dragon's eyes. "You are the Emperor's Hand." He scratched the side of his head nervously. "I haven't done anything illegal. I've always tried to be an honest man."

"No, no, it's nothing like that." Dragon licked his lips. "You don't remember when we first met?"

"Have we met before?" Vonn asked in puzzlement.

Dragon shook his head sadly. "No, not recently anyway." He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a black silk sachet that he held toward Vonn. "For you. Each seal is good for one person and a guest. You should wait to open it inside." He glanced around quickly, catching a few eyes that were watching him with a bit too much curiosity. "There are a few too many interested parties out here."

Vonn still looked puzzled, but he took the sachet in both hands. "Thank you?"

"No, thank you for your kind-hearted nature," Dragon said. He gave Vonn one last lingering look, then turned and walked away.

He wasn't quite sure what he felt, but he had to blink his eyes quickly as he walked, fighting back a stinging burn.

He shouldn't have been surprised that Master Vonn didn't remember him. He had been a young boy when he had met the silver smith, desperate and alone. Why should anyone have remembered him?

* * *

As soon as he slid the lock in place, Vonn sighed and leaned his back against the door. He scrubbed a tired hand over his face and couldn't help the way his shoulders slumped.

The minute he had seen that face, he had recognized the boy he had met briefly years before. He hadn't known what had happened to that half-starved child, had never realized that the boy had risen so high in government.

He could still remember closing up his shop and heading home only to hear a strange snuffling sound in an alley as he walked past. Caution would have had him keep moving--noises in alleys were never a good sign--but something had sent him closer to investigate.