Heden came back to the Hammer and Tongs to find the heavy oak doors standing open. He’d left the doors unlocked and was happy to see that whoever’d come to confront him about whatever hadn’t broken in and cost him a crown for the repair.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t bother unwrapping the sword. He stepped up onto the boards of his inn, and walked through the doors.

Inside, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust, Heden saw a thick, heavily muscled man standing by the bar on his right and the cat Ballisantirax sitting on the bottom step of the stairs to the rooms above. Balli was licking a paw and then washing herself.

The man’s face was scratched and bleeding. He was someone’s muscle, Heden had an idea whose, and he probably didn’t feel much pain. It looked like his nose and cheekbones had been professionally broken a few times so he probably couldn’t feel the razor-thin cuts. Blood streamed down his cheeks and onto his neck and shirt. It looked bad but it was just a cat scratch.

Heden took note of where the cat was sitting and felt, though he could not see, someone watching from the top of the stairs.

The man turned as soon as he heard Heden’s boots, and bellowed; “Is that your fucking cat?”

Heden smiled and looked at Balli. Ballisantirax went into what Heden thought of as her “cat statue” pose, sitting on her hind quarters, paws placed together in front of her. Her eyes were squinted half-closed, prideful and happy.

“I’m gonna kill that fucking cat!”

Heden looked from the cat to the muscle and said, “No you’re not.”

“You get up there,” the man tried ordering Heden, “and get me that fucking trull.”

Balli, assured that her Master had things well in hand, turned and trotted up the steps.

“What’s your name?” Heden wondered, looking askance at the big man. Trying to place him.

“My name don’t matter, get the girl,” he said.

“You work for Miss Elowen,” Heden said. He leaned the wrapped sword against a chair.

“That’s right,” the man said, on firmer ground now, the cat forgotten. “And she says ‘Morden, you go find that bitch and bring her back here.’ And here I am,” he said proudly. “Found you myself.”

“Sure you don’t want to tell me your name?” Heden asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck you!” Morden said. Heden was quite a bit shorter and smaller than the big man. Morden sensed something was wrong. Small men didn’t usually give him any lip.

Heden shrugged. “Vanora?” he called out. “There’s a man here wants you to go with him. You’re free to go, if you like.”

“It ain’t up to her!” Morden said, angry and getting confused. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Heden stared at him and waited in the silence for a moment. When no response was forthcoming, he said, “I don’t think she wants to go with you.”

“She’s a fucking whore,” the tough said deliberately. “It don’t matter what she wants. She belongs to Miss Elowen.”

As he spoke, he walked toward Heden until he was standing within an arm’s length.

“I hate to say this, but I don’t think you’ll last long at the Petal,” Heden said.

“What?” Morden asked, confused.

“I mean if Bann finds out you came over here and tried to act tough with me, he’ll say ‘I’m going to have to fire that pigfucker because he’s too stupid to be muscle even at a brothel.’”

“Fuck you!” Morden said again, and swung a thick fist at Heden. A great roundhouse swing with his right.

Heden easily and efficiently ducked out of the way, put his foot out, and pulled on Morden’s right shoulder, half-tripping, half-throwing the heavy man into the table on which he and Gwiddon had drinks earlier.

There was a crash and a grunt. Morden was making a lot of noise.

“Did you come up with this idea?” Heden asked, looking at the man sprawled on his floor surrounded by the remains of the table. “Take the initiative? Or did you talk to Bann first?”

Morden turned over. He was trying to figure out what had happened. He looked up at Heden, a little stunned.

“You took the initiative, didn’t you?”

Morden pulled out a dagger. Heden sighed.

“Really?” he asked.

Morden lumbered to his feet and came at Heden in a kind of crouch.

Heden quickly lashed out with his right palm, turning his whole body and driving the heel of his palm into Morden’s face as the man ran at him. There was a loud crunch and Morden dropped the dagger. But Morden’s body kept coming, smashing into Heden.

Heden stumbled back against the bar, but Morden had collapsed on the ground. He was on his hands and knees, blood and spit pooling on the floor. There was a huur, huur sound as he tried to breathe.

Heden straightened up. “Alright,” he said. Huur, huur.

“You broke my fucking nose!” Morden yelled. Huur.

“It’s ok,” Heden reassured him. Huur. He waited. He went behind the bar and got a small glass and some port.

“Come on,” Heden said helping Morden to his feet. Morden shook off Heden’s arm and stood, swaying a little. “Here, drink this,” Heden said.

Morden took the small glass and drank the rich port. It wouldn’t do much except taste good and get Morden’s mind off the pain.

“Now,” Heden said, slowly. “You’re going to go back to Miss Elowen and tell her you couldn’t get the girl. Tell her I was, ah, you know, waiting for you. Ready. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. But you didn’t get her,” he spoke like he was explaining something to a child, “and I beat the shit out of you.”

“She’s going to fucking kill me!”

“Nooo,” Heden said. “She didn’t know it was me. You tell her the girl is at the Hammer and Tongs, and she’ll know it’s me. Probably feel bad she sent you. She won’t kill you. I promise.”

“What?” Morden said. It was getting hard to understand him as his face swelled up. When he talked, Heden could see his white teeth stained red.

“Tell her I promised she wouldn’t kill you.”

“Why am I, uhh…” Morden began, but didn’t continue.

“Ok,” Heden said. “Time for you to go.” He took the now empty glass from the stunned muscle, and guided him to the door. He opened it, and the man stepped outside and looked around, confused.

Heden stood in the doorway. “Find someone to take care of that nose,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd walking by. People were studiously avoiding looking directly at Morden, while just as studiously glancing covertly at his ruined face.

“What?” Morden said, holding his nose.

Heden closed the door.

Chapter 10