Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

Duran stared at me as I held up the knife, blade shining. “The most important thing while gutting a fish,” I said, “Is to have the blade sharpened.”

He half-nodded. It had been weeks of effort to catch this fish, his one triumph. On the board, it looked small and disappointing. I tried to look impressed anyway.

“Place it down on the board, then place the tip just above the rear fin-”

Duran was staring. But not at me. I squinted.

If only my apprentice would pay attention. “What is it? What is so interesting?” I snapped.

The fish slid under my hand. I re-adjusted it. He blinked, then turned to me. “There’s lights out there. In the restaurant. I thought we were closed for the morning.”

I squinted through the slats. There was something shining. “Fish! Eyes back on the fish!”

“But what if they want a pie?”

I sighed. “Do you want to eat this fish, or not?” He had caught it only this morning. Certainly the shine hadn’t worn off already?

He pushed the door open. “They’re walking towards us!”

“Duran,” I said. “You got this fish. It is your responsibility now. If you don’t gut it, I am not responsible for what parts of it end up in your bedding.”

He was my first apprentice. I was still working on how to maintain his attention. It turned out that creative threats about fish guts were pretty efficient. “Um-” He stepped back. “Yes, Madam Elysia!”

“Hold the knife towards the fish,” I said, resuming the lecture. “Just above the bottom fin-”

“Excuse me!”

Someone was knocking on the kitchen door. I put down the knife in defeat. “We’re closed! Can’t you tell?”

“I asked the woman outside!” They were turning the knob, to no effect. I’d bolted it closed.“Durandus Petronius the Second?”

“Who’s asking?” I responded for him. This was new.

“Do you mind opening the door? I’ve got something to hand to him.”

“Why?” I said, after a moment. The fish was slippery underneath my palm. We weren’t especially well-protected, even with the slats.

“This would really be easier if we could speak face to face!”

Nothing good came of a face to face meeting. Yet… well…. “Duran,” I said. “Open the door. Only halfway, mind you.” I had a knife. I could fight them off, probably.

The slats rose, very slowly. I listened to the creaking and said nothing. When they finally rose to chest level, I said, “Stop!”

The knife flashed forward. “Well?”

“Durandus the Second?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Avitus and Aelius, Lawyers at Large.”

I darted forward, holding up the knife as I peered into the crack between the door. Sure enough, there were two of them. “What?” Surely that wasn’t allowed. Lawyers were dangerous. If they were allowed to roam around freely, who knew what they could do? Sue at wild? Fine anyone they saw?

“Where is Durandus?”

“What is this about? If it’s regarding the banishment from the Capital, he hasn’t-”

“Not regarding the Capital.”

“Then if it’s about the incident with employment and Lady Sylvia-”

“Our records indicate he’s an adult, madame. Please allow us to speak to him personally.” A hand extended. I couldn’t tell if it was from Avitus or Aelius. “Please take this. Upon dispersal of the estate of Durandus the First, proprietor of the One Horse Inn, you have been found to be the heir to the estate. As such, you are entrusted with the deed, taxes, and care of the One Horse Inn. Do you accept these terms?”

“What?” This time, Durandus spoke. I was too horrified.

“That includes the fourteen years of back-taxes,” continued the lawyer. “Unpaid, with interest. We can speak about a payment plan if such a consideration is needed.”

My world froze. For as long as I’d had Duran under my care- half-attention or not- I had always known that, somewhere out there, his father was waiting. Perhaps he was an inattentive, useless drunk, who ran a low-rate inn… but he was there. When Duran was done training with me, he could go home. If he got sick of me early, he could always run north.

I had never before considered the fact that Durandus the First might be selfish enough to die. “Taxes? I can’t pay taxes. He can’t pay taxes, either!” I thought about the size of the inn. “Oh, absolutely not. Go back. Check again!”

The hand started pulling back. “Do you reject the offer, Durandus the Second?”

Durandus hesitated. He was half-hiding behind me. His eyes were wide.

“Wait!” I grabbed the wrist. Duran deserved that inn. Even if it was horrible, half-rate, and only served warm ale to pilgrims heading to the northern temple. It was his inheritance! “How did it happen?”

If Durandus the first was actually dead, I’d eat the fish on the board, bones and all. This had the stink of one of his schemes.

“Madame, please allow the inheritor to speak for himself-”

“My da! What happened to him!” Duran had finally collected himself enough to speak.

“He was reported missing after a pilgrimage to the Northern Temple,” said the lawyer. He tried to shake off my grip on his wrist. I kept holding on. “Once he had been gone for three weeks, his hired help contacted us for dispersal of the estate. As such, we attempted to find you. You did make it rather difficult, you know.”

The Northern Temple?

The Lawyer shook his wrist again. “Must you keep holding on? Either take the estate or leave it!”

“You don’t have proof he’s dead,” I said. “The Northern Temple doesn’t kill people.” I sniffed. “Besides, he’d never go. You’re sure you had the right person?”

“It didn’t. But now it has. Seven pilgrims disappeared. And, rumor has it, the Voice herself. The doors are shut- no one’s been able to go in since. Rumor has it the Goddess is angry. No matter, really. The facts are the facts. He’s gone. You can take the estate, or you can leave it to the government for re-dispersal. Make your choice.”

I snuck a look at Duran. He was trembling. I had never seen him this pale, this upset before. His father had never been particularly close to him- he had been half-raised by everyone in the village after his mother left- but still. Durandus the First was all he had.

“No,” I said, turning back to the Lawyer. I let go. “He’s not choosing.”

“Pardon?”

“We’re finding Durandus the first. We’ll get him back. What happens then?”I could see the shape of it now. Durandus had obviously seen the tax bill coming, realized he didn’t have the money to pay it. He’d probably run to the nearest bar, lied about going to the northern temple, and hunkered down wherever he could find a drink. It was just his luck that his plan would line up with a set of pilgrims actually going missing.

Well, too bad for him. I was going to drag him out of whatever corner he’d found, and I was going to make him pay. With interest.

“You cannot simply reject the fact of his death!”

“I’ll see you in another two months,” I said. “With Durandus the First. Where are your offices?”

“We travel.” That was the other Lawyer. “Lawyers at Large, if you recall. Simply say our name to any merchant, and you can summon-”

“Too much effort,” I said. “The One Horse Inn. Two Months. I’ll bring Durandus the First. You’ll give up on this.”

Then, before they could say no, I shoved the door closed with a loud clatter. There was a sharp yell (I might have caught a finger) and some objections, but finally they cleared out. In the silence that followed, I stared at the fish. Its dead eye stared back. You’ve done it again, Elysia. Put the cart before the horse you can’t afford.

“Um,” said Duran, finally. “You really think he isn’t dead?”

“Let’s gut this fish.” I re-adjusted the knife. “We’ll figure out the rest when we’re finished.”