Mountain of Daggers by Seth Skorkowsky

Author:Seth Skorkowsky [Skorkowsky, Seth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, Anthologies, Epic, Anthologies & Short Stories
Amazon: B00UF4PAHY
Publisher: Ragnarok Publications
Published: 2015-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

Thieves Duel

A warm salty breeze blew across the harbor, carrying the sounds of ship bells and squawking gulls. Thousands of seamen chatted and shouted curses along the dock in half a dozen languages. Docksmen hurried along the piers lugging barrels and crates to and from the ships and cargo wagons along the wharf.

Adjusting the leather straps digging into his shoulders, Ahren sauntered down the pier. The fifteen silver the captain had paid him was more than they’d originally agreed. But the bribe to keep him aboard as a member of the crew wouldn’t work. He slipped the jingling cloth bag into his vest and away from the greedy hands of beggars and thieves. The heavy chest on his back rattled as he followed the boardwalk to the cobblestone streets. His eyes wary, Ahren made his way to the nearest harbor gate. He melded into the bottle-necked crowd and passed under the high stone archway and into the busy city.

It had been a decade since Ahren had boarded his first vessel to escape Lichthafen. He’d sworn to never return. As Mordakland’s largest port, Lichthafen was difficult to avoid. But he had. Until now.

Blue paint still flaked from the tailor’s shop. Plump gray pigeons lined the shoulders and outstretched arms of the green copper statue in the square. Ahren wondered if anyone ever knew the monument’s true identity. An ugly boot-shaped sign still hung above Kamler the Cobbler’s. Nothing had changed.

Weaving through the winding, narrow streets, Ahren plunged deeper into the city. The tall buildings loomed high above, their peaked roofs leaning across toward one another. A pack of children played dice in the alley beside an unpainted tavern. An older boy with a filthy blue cap carved his name into the wall with a short knife, not ten inches from where Ahren had put his at that age. A small bell jingled as Ahren opened the tavern door and stepped inside.

Fresh stew bubbled in a cauldron hanging inside the fireplace. A square-jawed man with gray temples peeled potatoes on the bar. Ahren crossed the narrow room and put his back to the counter. He lowered himself until the chest thunked onto the bar top and then he slipped off the shoulder straps.

“What can I get for you, sailor?” the man asked while wiping his hands on a dingy apron.

Ahren said nothing.

The barkeep glanced to the hinged box on the counter. “Are you selling something? ‘Cause unless you got a pair of goats in there, I ain't interested.”

Ahren grinned. “That’s a shame.”

“That it is. So now that we’ve cleared up that I ain’t interested in what you’ve got, why don’t you tell me what you…” The man’s eyes widened. “Saint Vishtin,” he gasped. “Ahren?”

“Hello Griggs.”

“I can’t believe it!” He slipped around the counter and gave Ahren a strong hug. “How long’s it been?”

Ahren smiled trying to hide his discomfort at speaking to the man he’d once considered a father. “Ten years.”

“Katze,” Griggs shouted. “Come down. Ahren’s home!” He clapped Ahren on the shoulder.

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