"I was blessed at just thirteen. All my life, they looked upon me with honor in their eyes, and fear in their hearts. But now, they see not a savior, but a traitor."
---------------
Did he know the wanderer? The reaction suggested they'd met before, but his
expression had been more worried than angry. If he'd wanted the wanderer's
location, he could have pressed her for it. Instead, he'd fled the moment she
mentioned a king's blessed.
Bad blood between them? Some old grudge or betrayal? Or was it something
else entirely?
As the door closed behind the mysterious stranger, Nisheena found herself
staring at the spot where he'd been sitting. The conversation had lasted mere
minutes, but it had changed everything. Another player had entered the game,
one whose motives and allegiances were completely unknown.
She looked around the common room, noting how conversations had resumed
their normal volume now that the stranger was gone. But at the table by the
window, Kael and his companions were still debating what to do about the
wanderer, their voices rising with passion and frustration.
An idea began to form in Nisheena's mind dangerous, possibly stupid, but
potentially profitable if played correctly. She'd spent years watching the
currents of power flow through Baelur, learning to read the signs that preceded
major changes. Tonight felt like one of those moments when everything
balanced on a knife's edge, when a single decision could reshape the entire
town's future.
She walked over to where Kael sat, his young face flushed with anger and
determination. Around him, his companions. other farmers and laborers
who'd grown tired of being pawns in the families' games. looked up as she
approached.
"You want to save the wanderer?" she asked quietly.
Kael nodded eagerly. "You've changed your mind?"
"Maybe," Nisheena said. "But not for the reasons you think."
She pulled out a chair and sat down, her voice dropping to barely above a
whisper.
"That man who just left he knew our wanderer. Recognized him the moment I mentioned a king's blessed. And he ran."
"So?"
"So ask yourself what kind of person makes a king's blessed warrior run?
What kind of power does someone need to have to frighten a man who can
cut down four armed soldiers without breaking a sweat?"
The table fell silent as the implications sank in. Kael's face paled slightly, but his
jaw remained set with determination.
"You think they're connected somehow," he said. "The wanderer and the
stranger."
"I think," Nisheena said carefully, "that there are forces at work in this town that
none of us understand. Big forces. The kind that reshape kingdoms and decide
the fate of kings."
She leaned back in her chair, studying their faces.
"The wanderer might be the key to understanding what's happening here. If we're going to survive what's coming, we need to know what he knows."
"And if Tarkun kills him?"
"Then we're all flying blind into whatever storm is heading our way."
Kael looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each of his companions.
Nisheena could see the moment when their resolve hardened, when fear transformed into determination.
"What do you need us to do?" he asked.
Nisheena smiled the first genuine expression she'd worn all evening.
"Get your friends. We're going to need every able body we can find."
"For what?"
"To remind Tarkun that he doesn't own this town. And to make sure our
wanderer lives long enough to answer some very important questions."
As the young men began to disperse, gathering allies and making plans,
Nisheena remained at the table, her mind already working through the
possibilities. She was taking a enormous risk. crossing both the Urartu family
and whatever forces had sent the mysterious stranger. But risk and opportunity
were often the same thing, and she'd built her life on knowing when to fold
and when to bet everything on a single hand. Tonight felt like a betting night.
Outside, Baelur's perpetual twilight pressed against the windows, and
somewhere in the darkness, powerful forces moved according to plans laid
long before any of them had been born. But for the first time since the
wanderer had arrived, Nisheena felt like she might have a chance to influence
the outcome.
The game was far from over, and she intended to make sure she was still standing when the final hand was played.