Helfer's Busy Day, Chapter 8
#8 of Helfer's Busy Day
Helfer sighed. As soon as he started toward Vin and the bear, the wolf released his wrist and followed him.
The rest of the tavern had turned to watch, some laughing and talking quietly between themselves. They quieted somewhat as Helfer passed by. He reached out to grab the bear, then hesitated and walked around to the bear's head. "Hey," he said. "Let him up."
The bear glared. "He'll run off."
"He won't. Tell him you won't, Vin."
There was a pause. Helfer couldn't see his friend's face, but he knew Vin could hear him. "Vin. Tell him!"
"I won't," Vin said finally.
The bear didn't move. "Come on," Helfer said, "get up. He promised."
Slowly, the bear levered himself up. Vin scrambled to his feet as soon as he was free. He took a step toward the door, then stopped even before the one-eyed wolf moved to intercept him. "Thanks," he said to Helfer. "Owe ya one."
Helfer nodded. "So you do owe them something?"
"It weren't nothin'!" Vin said, a little too loudly. "I jus' walked out an' forgot I even had it."
"You ran away," the bear said.
"You were chasing me!"
"How much does he owe you?" Helfer cut in.
Bichi said from behind him, "One and a half gold royals."
Helfer turned and looked with some surprise at the mouse, who returned a bland smile. The weasel fished around in the pouch he carried while Vin said indignantly, "That's ridiculous, that trinket weren't worth even one."
"It was worth one and a half," Bichi said.
"Not down the street," Vin muttered.
Helfer shot him a look. "Here," he said, holding out some coins to Bichi. "That cover it?"
"Yes, sir," Bichi said. "You and your friend want to stay for a drink?"
Helfer looked at the staircase and door. Whatever was going to happen there had likely happened already. If Volle--or whoever that fox was--was in there, he'd been warned and was gone. Or he wasn't going to leave, in which case he'd still be there in a little while. And he could use a drink. He handed Bichi another silver. "Sure. Two of your best ales."
"Wot?" Vin stared at him.
Helfer inclined his head toward a nearby table. "C'mon. Let's sit down."
Bichi served the ales himself. Helfer noticed the long look he gave Vin, as well as the nervous glances the other weasel shot toward the shadowy corner.
"Wot's goin' on?" Vin said in a low voice. "Why we hangin' around here?"
"I don't think the fox I'm chasing is my friend," Helfer said. "If he is, he'll probably wait next door for me because he knows I'll be there now. If he isn't my friend, well, then, he's long gone."
"I tol' you not to come in here," Vin said. "Look, you really wanna find yer friend, we can ask aroun' a couple other places."
"Apart from the fact that you stole something from here," Helfer held up a paw to forestall Vin's reply, "why's this place scare you so much?"
"It don't scare me," Vin said.
"What's in that corner? The bat?"
"Shush-shush!" Vin nearly scrambled across the table to clamp a paw across Helfer's mouth. He nodded, unable to restrain another glance at the corner.
"What--?" Helfer stopped at Vin's frantic expression.
"Not 'ere," the other weasel whispered.
Helfer took a swig of his ale. It had a dry, yeasty flavor that he thought was reminiscent of his more northern brews. Something from the Reysfields, most likely. "All right," he said. This all felt like politics to him, just in a different setting: people hiding secrets and puffing up their image. The only reason he remained vaguely interested was because it affected his trade in mead and ale, and that might possibly affect his income, but even that connection felt as vague to him as the scents of the other patrons in the bar. They were there, they might one day affect him, but if he just let them be, they would likely go on about their business and not worry about him.
"Please, Hef," Vin said. "Let's jus' go somewhere nice an' quiet an' have some nice uncomplicated fun, eh?"
It sounded very tempting at that moment. Helfer was about to nod his agreement when a small coin landed on their table. It took Helfer a moment to recognize it as the token he'd left on the bar.
"So," a deeper voice said, "you know Hensley." They looked up to meet the steady gaze of the one-eyed wolf. He pulled a chair back. "Mind if I join you?"
Vin looked about to be ill. Helfer gestured graciously. "Our pleasure."
The wolf dropped his six-foot frame into the chair without a thump. He wasn't wearing a tunic under the thick padded vest, so Helfer could see that what he'd taken for a dyed pattern of criss-cross lines in the fur of his shoulders was actually several lines of scars. Even the eyepatch was worn in spots, with some gashes that indicated how the eye might've been lost in the first place. Helfer thought it likely that the wolf had given as good as he'd gotten, to judge from the thickness of his arms and the hard confidence in his posture. He tapped his claws on the table, looking at Helfer and ignoring Vin except for the partial turn of his ear in that direction.
"Yeah, we know Hensley," Helfer said. "Friend of yours?"
"We had occasion to meet in the past," the wolf said. "I'm Stark."
Helfer introduced himself and Vin, leaving out his title. "Hensley didn't mention you," he said. "Just told us to show off this token."
"You're a noble, ay?"
Helfer frowned. "Is it that obvious?"
"Your tunic," Vin said.
The wolf flicked his ear. "Aye. You carry yerself like a noble."
"I thought I carried myself like a weasel," Helfer said. He felt more vulnerable, as if the wolf had lifted a cloak from him and exposed him to the rest of the room.
"Noble weasel, aye." If Stark's grin was supposed to be reassuring or friendly, it failed. Due to a scar that crossed above his right canine, the grin showed rather more teeth than was traditional, and it curled his muzzle into a distinct sneer, at least on Helfer's side. "A noble weasel who is looking for someone, or something."
"Not any more," Vin put in quickly. "We're just preparin' to go have some fun."
"Oh, aye?" the wolf said, raising an eyebrow that seemed to be the only scar-free part of his head. "Well, Stark likes to have some fun too. Besides which, he knows well how to find things that might not want to be found."
"What's Stark know 'bout leavin' things alone what want to be left alone?" muttered Vin, but when Stark turned his eye toward him, the weasel shut his mouth and shrank back in his chair.
"I know what kind of 'fun' you like, Vinstrier Tail-Lifter," the wolf said mildly. "Aye. Wouldn't have offered had I not."
Vin straightened a little, interest gleaming in his eyes. "Stark, you said?"
"We've not met." Stark paid Vin full attention now. "But Stark keeps his ears out and nose up, and there's little he doesn't know."
Vin turned to Helfer. His expression showed a blossoming interest. Helfer had to admit that the wolf's muscles were impressive, though he wasn't getting the tingle and hard-on that he was sure Vin now was. The wolf seemed sincere, but his comment about knowing people made Helfer wonder what Stark knew about him.
As he held that thought in his head, Stark turned his one blue eye on Helfer. "Bichi wasn't lying about the brothel," he said. "You can pay just to rent a room for an hour. Cheaper than one upstairs for a night." He jabbed one rough claw at the ceiling.