Alias’s jaw dropped open, and she stood momentarily stunned.
“Well, hello, Alias!” the halfling Olive Ruskettle shouted over the din and their locked blades. “I’d been hoping we’d have a chance to cross swords again.”
Six
Alliances
As Alias struggled to overcome the surprise of meeting Olive Ruskettle, and the shock of discovering that the halfling had pulled a blade on her, Olive took advantage of her. The halfling bard, with a practiced up-and-down jerk of her wrist, was able to bring her short blade to the outside of the human woman’s sword, and with a quick push downward, strengthened by her own weight, was able to smash Alias’s hand and blade into the top of the crate. Pain shot down Alias’s arm, and she jerked backward.
“Olive! What do you think you are doing?” Alias growled as she swung with the flat of her blade, trying to swat the halfling on her legs.
“Same as you, I should think,” the halfling replied, parrying Alias’s blow and delivering a quick, shallow thrust. “Fighting for the good guys!”
Alias extended her sword and lunged, startling Olive into a step backward. Alias leaped onto the top of the stack of crates. “Have you gone crazy?” she upbraided the halfling. “Suppose someone sees you’ve pulled out live steel and decides to follow your example? You want the pier bathed in blood?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Olive said, looking momentarily repentant, but then she shrugged. “No. Everyone else is still going at it with fisticuffs. The only person paying any attention to us is that cute Dhostar lackey in the riding boots.”
Alias half turned her head and caught a glimpse of Victor, standing back from the fray. With Alias’s attention distracted, Olive smacked the swordswoman on the shoulder with the flat of her blade.
“Verily, a touch,” the halfling squealed.
Alias whirled around, furious. Her chain mail had absorbed most of the blow, but she was sure to have a bruise. “That is quite enough,” she snapped. She slid her blade back down along the halfling’s until they were once again hilt to hilt. With her left hand she grabbed Olive’s wrist and squeezed.
“Hey, that hurts,” the halfling complained.
“Release your weapon,” Alias demanded.
“Well, since you feel so strongly about it,” Olive replied, and she opened the hand that held the hilt of her sword.
Alias grabbed the shorter blade with her left hand and turned the blade’s tip on the owner’s throat. “Now, you’re going to behave,” she ordered “until this thing is sorted out.”
“Okay,” the halfling replied with a meek smile, but a moment later she added, “Oops, too late. Fight’s over.”
Behind her Alias heard a high-pitched whistle that she recognized as Dragonbait’s. Alias turned to find the saurial, his scales glistening with water, standing on the pier beside the halfling who had fallen into the harbor. The small servant was sodden, but uninjured.
The others on the pier had also turned at Dragonbait’s bidding, pausing for just a moment from their aggressions.
That pause was all Victor needed. The merchant strode to the wet halfling’s side, shouting, “Please, stop fighting. This gentle being has rescued House Thalavar’s shipping clerk. Should you continue this pointless brawl, we will have to call out the watch.”
The combatants remained frozen, certain that they did not want to be hauled in by the watch, but uncertain that they should abandon the fight just yet. All halfling eyes were on the Thalavar family’s shipping clerk.
The wet halfling glared up at the Dhostar heir. “What about my ruined clothes?” he demanded, indicating his soaked velvet tabard and breeches.
“I will be glad to make reparations,” Victor replied, “once you’ve apologized for insulting my family’s ship.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was your ship, milord. I can see now it’s a bonny little craft,” the halfling replied cheerfully. Then he added, “But our ship still beat it into the harbor and was at this pier first.”
“Agreed,” Victor said.
The Thalavar shipping clerk smiled broadly. Then he turned angrily on his own workers and shouted at them like a drill sergeant. “What do you think you’re doing? I didn’t hire any of you to brawl on the docks! You’re supposed to be hauling crates to the deck!”
The halflings scurried back aboard their ship. Two of Dhostar’s men helped Brunner to his feet. The big man was quite disheveled, and his nose was bleeding, but then several of the halflings sported black eyes and bleeding noses.
“They got here first only because they cut our ship off in the channel,” Brunner growled.
Victor replied with an insistent patience, “But they did get here first. They have first access to the inspector.” There was a hint of warning in his tone.
Brunner scowled and shook off the two men who’d helped him rise.
“Is that understood, Brunner?” Victor asked.
“Yes, milord,” the human servant replied grudgingly. He turned and stomped back aboard his ship.
“Is that what this is all about? Who’s next in line?” Alias hissed to Olive, astonished at the nonsensical reasons people chose to fight one another.
“Yeah,” Olive whispered back. “Thalavar’s ship had right of way, but Dhostar wouldn’t yield. Thalavar’s sails stole Dhostar’s wind, though, and went whipping past. Dhostar nearly grounded out on a sandbar. They just can’t stand giving up anything to a halfling.”
“That doesn’t explain why in the Gray Waste you pulled a sword on me,” Alias growled.
The halfling took her sword from Alias and sheathed it. “It was all for show. The Dumpster’s—excuse me, the Dhostar’s—minions have to be shown they can’t go around stepping on Thalavar halfling toes whenever they want. I had to draw you off before you kicked the Thalavar halflings’ butts. And now Dhostar’s people’ll remember there was a Thalavar halfling who took on Alias the Sell-Sword. They won’t remember which halfling, since they can’t seem to tell us apart, so they’ll have to be more cautious around all of us.”
Alias continued to glare at Olive as she sheathed her own weapon.
“Honestly, you shouldn’t take it so personally,” Olive insisted. “I swung high. I used the flat of my blade. You know I could have hit you if I’d been meaning to.”
Alias harrumphed, but then, with a grin creeping onto her face, she replied, “It’s true, Olive. You never missed a target with its back turned to you.” She sat down, slid off the crates to the pier, and turned about to give Olive a hand down. The halfling took her hand and jumped down.
“Thank you,” the halfling said as she fussily rearranged her cloak.
“You didn’t used to be so gracious about accepting help,” Alias recalled.
“The knees are getting old, my dear,” the bard replied.
Victor finished making financial arrangements with the Thalavar shipping clerk, then he and Dragonbait joined the two women.
Victor bowed to Olive. “Mistress Ruskettle, I’m Victor Dhostar. Thalavar’s shipping clerk just told me who you were. I’m so pleased to meet you. Please, excuse this unpleasantness. Brunner and his people tend to be …” Victor searched for the words.
“Less polite to people who aren’t like them,” Olive supplied.
Victor nodded with a sad smile. “Very provincial, I’m afraid. I hope Lady Nettel will forgive this unfortunate incident.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t hold you responsible, Lord Victor,” Olive replied with a gracious smile. “And may I say, I’m pleased to meet you as well. It’s so refreshing to meet someone whose attitudes are more cosmopolitan.”