“Good morning,” smiled Sergeant Skyler as he approached the counter where the shoemaker transacted his business. “I left a pair of boots to be repaired. You said that they would be done this morning.”
“And so they are,” smiled Artimor. “Wait right here while I get them.”
The sergeant watched the old man disappear through the curtain before realizing that he had not mentioned his name, and the shoemaker would not know which pair of boots to retrieve unless he at least identified himself. He opened his mouth to shout his name so that the old man could hear him, but he said nothing and frowned deeply. He saw Artimor out of the corner of his eye, and the shoemaker was not behind the curtain at all. He was in the main room of the shop slightly to the sergeant’s left. Sergeant Skyler shook his head in confusion. He could have sworn that he saw the shoemaker go through the curtain, but that obviously could not have happened.
The bell at the door sounded again and a man walked into the shop. The sergeant heard Aritmor’s voice welcoming the new customer, and he turned towards the sound. Artimor smiled at the sergeant and pressed a pair of boots into his hands.
“I think you will like the workmanship that I put into these boots, Sergeant Skyler,” Artimor said. “I enjoyed working on them. Make sure to tell your comrades who it was that did such fine work.”
The sergeant stared at his boots. They were not only repaired well, but they looked as good as a new pair of boots would. He was pleased with the work.
“An excellent job,” agreed the soldier. “How much do I owe you?”
“You owe me nothing,” smiled the shoemaker. “You young lads put your lives on the line to keep the rest of us safe. The least I can do is repair your boots for free. Anyone who serves in the army will get free repairs from me as long as I am alive. Go tell your comrades.”
The sergeant’s jaw dropped as he stared at the shoemaker. He had heard rumors in the barracks about free repairs from the shoemaker, but he had not believed them. Such a thing was unheard of in Tagaret, but to be honest with himself, the sergeant had to admit that the rumors had caused him to try the new shoemaker’s services. He had hoped for a discount, but he was ecstatic to find the rumors confirmed.
“I do not know how to thank you,” gushed the sergeant. “For a new merchant, you are the most patriotic one that has ever graced our city. Thank you.”
Artimor smiled broadly and nodded to the soldier. He then dismissively turned his attention to the new customer. The sergeant left the shop with a grin on his face, and the new arrival turned and watched him leave with a sneer on his lips.
“I guess I should tell you that I am also a soldier,” quipped the new customer. “My uniform is being cleaned today.”
“I am sure that you are,” the shoemaker replied sarcastically. “Let me get your boots, Fletcher.”
The Snake immediately tensed at the mention of his name. Any man who knew his name and also favored the soldiers of Alcea was a threat to the Snake, and Fletcher did not leave threats around to endanger him in the future. A knife slid into his hand as the shoemaker moved behind the curtain to get the boots that had been left for repair. Fletcher thought about going through the curtain and attacking the shoemaker in the back room in case another customer entered the shop, but he hesitated. The Snake could not be sure if the shoemaker had confederates in the rear of the shop. He would wait for Artimor to return with his boots. Unexpectedly, Fletcher felt his fingers open. The knife slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. As the Snake bent over to pick up the knife, he saw a boot step on it. He looked up and saw Artimor looking down at him.
“I think your knife must have fallen out of your sheath,” Artimor smiled tautly. “I do fine leather work on sheaths as well as boots. Why don’t you remove the sheath and leave it with me? I will repair it for you.”
Fletcher rose slowly and backed away from Artimor. He was certain that it was not possible for the shoemaker to have moved through the curtain to step on his knife without the aid of magic. Artimor was far more than he seemed to be, and that made the Snake very nervous.
“I would be pleased to have you mend it,” Fletcher replied fearfully. “This is not the first time that it has happened. Did you find my boots?”
“The boots were not lost,” quipped the Claw of Alutar as he stepped off the knife and moved behind the counter. “They are sitting right here on the counter waiting for you to pick them up.”
Fletcher moved forward and picked up his knife. He made a show of sliding it back into its sheath and then kept his hands well away from it.
“Why are you wasting your time mending shoes?” asked the Snake. “I could find more useful endeavors for a man of your talents.”
Artimor laughed. “You have no idea what my talents are, Fletcher, but I know what yours are. The Snakes are nearly worthless. You have failed in every attempt to kill the Warrior King and his Knights of Alcea. Don’t even think of trying your hand against me again. I will not be so benevolent the next time.”
Fletcher’s eyes opened wide in horror. “Who are you?’ he gasped. “And why do you favor soldiers if you are an enemy of the king? That makes no sense.”
“Perhaps to your feeble mind,” mused the demonkin. “Sergeant Skyler is an aide to Colonel Borowski. As such, he carries a wealth of information around in his head, information that is important to the Federation. Is it not worth a bit of leather and a few seconds of time to secure such information?”
Fletcher noticed that Artimor ignored his first question, and he knew that it was not a casual omission. He also realized that the sergeant would not volunteer such information for a free boot repair. That meant that Artimor had the power of a K’san to reach into people’s minds and take what he wanted. That also explained how he knew so much about Fletcher and the Snakes, yet he did not seem threatening any more.
“If you shared such information with me,” posed Fletcher, “my people might be able to make use of it.”
“Your time has come and gone,” replied Artimor. “Not only has the Federation started the attack, but the Alceans appear to already know about it, even though all of the armies have not yet left Zara. What bothers me is that they do not seem panicked by the news, and they should be. Why do you suppose that is?”
Fletcher had not even received word that the attack had started, and the priest usually kept him informed. That the Alceans already knew surprised the Snake. It would mean increased danger for Fletcher and the others because the Federation soldiers would kill everyone without a thought of their loyalty to the Federation. He had to inform Tedesco and the others.
“Forget about Tedesco,” scowled Artimor. “Can you not think beyond your own selfish ends?”
Fletcher gasped. The shoemaker was reading his every thought, even as he was thinking them. He swallowed hard.
“What can we do to help?” asked the Snake.
“Forget about the others,” instructed the shoemaker. “Get a horse and ride like the wind. Go to your priest and tell him what I have told you. If K’san has a lick of sense, he will have his master send more soldiers through the portals to bolster the Federation forces. Warn him that there must be a spy among the planners of the attack, someone with enough knowledge to specify the locations of the portals and the timing of the attacks.”
Fletcher nodded exaggeratedly and reached for his boots. The shoemaker reached for the boots before the Snake could. He tossed them on the floor behind the counter.
“You will not need those,” stated the demonkin. “Just get a horse and race to K’san.”
Fletcher nodded wordlessly and fled from the shop. He purposely kept his thoughts jumbled until he was outside on the city street. Only then did he reflect on his encounter with Artimor. He trembled as he remembered the shoemaker’s words and attitude. Artimor had spoken of K’san and the priest’s master as if they were not his concern. In Fletcher’s mind, that made Artimor an extremely powerful force, and the Snake was not comfortable in the company of such people. He was suddenly glad to have been given a task that would take him far away from Tagaret. He would think hard and long before he decided to return.