Chapter 14

To his credit, Alois managed to avoid throwing up until after Alex set him down outside of Gimsburg. It had been a heroic effort given how rough the ride must have been for the boy, constantly being bumped up and down on Alex's shoulder at such great speeds for hours on end. It was why Alex was giving him some leeway now, crossing his arms and tapping one finger impatiently while waiting for him to finish emptying whatever he had eaten for breakfast that day into the grass and dirt beside the road.

"So where's your uncle live?" Alex asked once it seemed like the boy was done.

"O-over there." Alois hitched and doubled over again, vomiting some more. Alex sighed. "Over there," he said again, more firmly this time as he pointed to a mansion on a hill on the far side of town. "He's the lord of the town, the Count of Gimsburg."

Alex nodded. "All right. Let's get going." He moved to pick Alois back up, but the boy hastily retreated several steps away from him, waving his hands in front of himself frantically.

"No, no," Alois said. "Please, let me walk. We're already almost there, so let me walk the rest of the way on my own."

"Walk fast, then," Alex growled as he pulled his arm back.

As they entered the town, Alex was instantly struck by the smell of coal and charcoal. It was everywhere here, and columns of white smoke rose up towards the sky from every direction.

"Gimsburg is famous for its thriving smithing business," Alois explained when he noticed Alex glancing this way and that at the many people working with hammer and forge. "Blacksmiths, goldsmiths, silversmiths, they have them all here. Many young apprentices come this way to learn from the greatest masters of the craft Germania has to offer."

"Hngh," Alex grunted indifferently. Some of those whom they passed were giving them odd looks, though this had less to do with Alex than it did with Alois. The boy was still dirty and ragged from his earlier flight from the bandits, which created a strange juxtaposition given how fine his clothes were underneath the layer of filth. They ignored these stares as they pressed on through the city, until at last they arrived at the mansion on the hill. They were stopped by armed guards at its gates, each wielding a musket with a bayonet.

"Halt," one of them said in a commanding voice. "Who goes there?"

"Tell the count that his nephew, Alois, has come to see him," the boy replied.

The guards glanced at each other, raising eyebrows. Even without consuming them, Alex could practically hear what they were thinking: Is this filthy kid really the nephew of our lord? "Wait here," one finally said after a moment, before going into the mansion. After a few minutes, he returned and said to them, respectfully, "Please go on in. The count awaits you."

The two men stood aside and let them pass. Alex and Alois found the count of Gimsburg waiting for them in the mansion's antechamber. When he saw Alois, he spread his arms wide open and smiled broadly.

"Alois, beloved nephew," he said, stepping forward and seizing the boy in a great bear hug and lifting him several feet off the ground. "When my guards told me that there was a boy at the gates claiming to be my nephew, I wasn't quite sure what to think. But you are here, indeed, and how good it is to see you."

"I am gladdened to see you too, Uncle Griswold," Alois wheezed. "Please put me down. I cannot breathe."

The count obliged, grinning sheepishly, and firmly patted Alois on the shoulder. "When was the last I saw you? A year-and-half ago, I think? You've grown so much since then."

"Thank you, Uncle," Alois said. "Unfortunately, though I would love nothing more than to sit and reminisce with you, we have much else to discuss. As you can see, a great ordeal has fallen upon me, and I must ask for your aid. But before that, might you lend me a bath so that I may refresh myself first?"

"Of course," Griswold nodded. "I'll have the servants draw up the bath for you immediately."

"Thank you," Alois said. "Now, there is someone I must introduce to you as well. This is Alex Mercer. He is the reason why I am here dirtied rather than dead. He is my savior, and I believe he has something to ask of you."

"Anything for the man who saved my nephew." Griswold turned to face Alex. "What is it that you need?"

"I'm searching for a man," Alex said. "Tobias the Goldsmith. Do you know where he lives?"

"Of course," Griswold nodded. "How could I not? But will you not sup with us before you leave? Allow me to show you my gratitude."

"If you tell me where to find him, that'll be thanks enough."

"I understand," Griswold said. "A pity, however. You there," he pointed at a nearby guard, "show this man to Tobias's shop."

The guard saluted, then motioned for Alex to follow him out the door. "This way."

Alex was led back down into the branching streets of the town, until about twenty minutes later they arrived in front of a glass-windowed shop.

"He's in there," the guard said. "I'll wait out here for you, in case you need anything else."

"Don't bother," Alex said, and pushed the door open.

The store reminded Alex of a modern day jewelry shop. Rings, necklaces, earrings, and other baubles and trinkets were displayed in glass counters on dark velvet sheets. A thin man with equally thin hair stood behind one of these counters, as he painstakingly polished a brilliantly cut ruby.

"Tobias?" Alex said.

"Indeed," the man replied without turning around. "How may I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for a man," Alex said. "Thin, blond, about this high. I'm told he bought a ring from you before. Ring any bells?"

"It is store policy to never reveal the personal details of customers," Tobias said. "Confidentiality can be quite important for certain people, you realize."

"Your customer sent assassins after someone I know," Alex growled. "I need to find him before he sends more."

"I sympathize with your situation, truly I do," Tobias sighed, though he never took a break from his work. "But if what you say is true, then I dare not involve myself in the matter. Suppose you find this man you are looking for and fail to stop him. What would happen to me if word got to him that it was I who sent you there? I will not put my life at risk for the sake of a stranger. If that is all, I must ask you to leave."

Alex scowled, took three strides forward, reached over the counter and forced the goldsmith to turn towards him. The ruby slipped from the man's hands and dropped to the ground. "Look at me," he snarled, causing Tobias's eyes to widen in surprise. "I'm not asking you to tell me what you know. I'm giving you a choice. You either tell me or I will kill you myself."

"With a soldier standing right outside the door?" Tobias scoffed. "I think not. I told you my decision. I want no part in this affair. Now leave, before I have you arrested."

"You don't need to die today," Alex growled, "but I'm running out of patience."

Tobias glared back at Alex. His breathing slowed and his expression became angry and defiant. Then he opened his mouth and suddenly cried out, "Guards! Arrest this man!"

In an instant, Alex pulled Tobias clear over the counter and drove his hand into the man's belly like a spear. A gush of blood spilled out onto the floor, splattering Alex's ankles and feet. The goldsmith's eyes went wide with disbelief, as he glanced down to where Alex's arm had fused with his stomach. Tendrils connected arm and body, and there was a terrible wet noise as they dragged Tobias completely into Alex, until nothing but the initial bloodstains were left behind.

Alex moaned loudly and seized his head as a painful headache suddenly attacked him. The life of Tobias the Goldsmith flooded his mind, but with some work he was able to extract the information he needed. The identity of the blond man. There were a few that Tobias had served, but only one that both matched Ingemar's description and had the power and wealth to send assassins after a princess: Jonathon Seymour. He was in the palace of Wesboden, the capital of Hessan, as a trusted retainer to the prince.

Somewhere, seemingly at a distance measured in miles, the door to the store slammed open. Dimly, Alex was aware that it was the guard who had escorted him here; the same one that Tobias had called upon in his final moments. There was smoke trailing from the end of his musket, and Alex realized that he had just been shot.

"Monster!" the guardsman cried when he saw how, as Alex's body regenerated, the musket ball was pushed out of his body and fell to the floor in a disquieting clatter.

Alex shook his head as his headache at last faded away. He stepped over to the soldier who was frantically trying to reload, but gave up halfway when he saw Alex move and took a ready stance with his bayonet affixed instead.

Alex grabbed the musket by the end of its muzzle and squeezed. The wood cracked and steel groaned as the firearm was bent irreparably. With a quick jerk, he then pulled the gun free from the guardsman's hand and cast it aside. Now disarmed, the soldier began backing away until he was pressed up against the wooden door. Alex reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, then roughly pushed him aside. He went out into the streets, where a crowd had gathered in front of the store, and were now giving him a wide berth. Some even turned and fled.

Guess I made too much noise, Alex thought.

Shrugging to himself, Alex jumped and landed clear on the other side of the crowd. Then he ran until he left the town.