The Slime Farmer - 99 A Meandering River Still Always Ends

After eating, Vesia dragged Chomar out of the inn to transport her to her duties. Tennar had finally given her some things to do, even if it was running around the city talking to various officials.

Defi returned to his room, not feeling any urge to go outside.

He put Turq on the table and flopped onto the bed.

Meditation was needed, to regain equilibrium. Use of the Sixth Circle required great amounts of energy both emotional and mental.

Defi took a deep breath and expelled it in a great sigh. He closed his eyes.

It had been months. Months since he took a boat out of Stahlchausses and was deceived then tossed into the Little Treachery by that boat’s crew. Left to drown and die.

He thought he’d gotten over the rage he felt then.

It appeared he hadn’t, if his reaction to seeing that man was to drop into a killing fury.

Why had he been so angry?

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the room.

He didn’t know how long he’d been thinking when a rapping on the door brought him out of his daze. He got to his feet and padded to the door.

Sarel let herself in, greeted him with, “You look better than you did last night.”

She saw Turq and went to pat the slime. “Did Vesia tell you of the excessive commotion you caused among the officials of this city?”

Defi lifted a brow, closed the door. “Is causing a pirate to be caught worth an excessive commotion?”

“Ramad Degaine was planning to expand his operations to include a regular dose of blackmail, according to findings. His initial investment apparently involved Ecthys to the extreme. There are some very embarrassed people in the city’s high towers this morning.” She smiled, sharp and amused. “It is an opportunity for many.”

Defi waved her to a chair and sat down opposite, sighed. “I did not do it for Bluzand.”

“Mm.”

She already knew that.

He tapped his fingers on Turq, frowning a little. His thoughts about last night were not yet in order. So instead of answering the curious look in her eyes, he asked. “What is going to happen to Ramad Degaine?”

“Die, likely. Offended too many.” She studied him. “The greater part of the bounty is yours if you want it. There were several others captured that had bounties.”

Defi shook his head. “Claiming it would bring too many eyes. His death is enough.”

“You’ve met before?”

He looked at her. “You already know that.”

She shrugged. “Turq ripped his arm off. Destroyed his barge. You aren’t one to endanger innocents. It looked personal.”

A corner of Defi’s mouth lifted, humorless. “You might say he killed Desislaf Rimet.”

He had no qualms speaking the name out loud. Sarel would not have come here to talk if the place was not secure. An inn for merchants…there were probably more secrets said and deals made within these walls than he could ever know.

His fingers pressed into Turq’s body. He looked out the window.

“We came prepared to spend the rest of our lives in another world. I expected to live here in much the same manner I always did. Despite all that had happened, I didn’t really expect my life to change that much. An idiotic thought.”

He paused, then smiled despondently. “The thought of a child brought up to see nobility innate within his person, and all the outer trappings to be deserved.”

Sarel was silent, listening. Defi felt his mind come to new realizations as he spoke.

“Ramad Degaine all but destroyed beliefs that I thought to be pillars of the world.” Defi had never thought that all his worldly things being stolen and his life, which he had thought to be precious beyond others, tossed into a churning river like so much trash would engender such a crisis of identity.

“I think that is the reason for much of my anger then. Because he really killed me, Sarel. Left me without reassurance of who I was. Even with my body functioning, what use was it when all reality was wavering?”

Sarel paused. Then her eyes softened slightly, though they were sharp as ever. “I see.”

Defi scrutinized her. She met his eyes, unwavering. He let out a breath, surprised. “You really do.”

“I’ve lived decades longer than you. When I was your age, you think I planned to be a hermit?”

Defi laughed. “Ascharon chefs are crazy. How would I know?”

Sarel scoffed at him. “Brat.”

He understood what she was saying though. “How different is Sarel from the Lady il Camarene?”

She stilled for a fraction of a second. If Defi had not been looking, he would’ve missed it. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that name.”

It wasn’t well-known? “Gylen Dahall called you that.”

She fell into thought, brows coming together in a scowl. “Most do not associate the name with Bluzand.”

The table devolved into silence.

Defi did not mind. This brief conversation helped him understand why last night he’d wanted to kill.

Ramad Degaine had killed the noble who was Desislaf Rimet and allowed the creation of the person who was now Defi.

Defi didn’t think the person he was before would have stayed in the Lowpool, much less put down roots. He had fought to keep who he was, but going through the Treachery really had been too much an impact on his view of the world.

And now, when he was just stabilizing and building a life, Ramad Degaine appeared again.

The river pirate was the only one who could connect the Desislaf Rimet who fled Stahlchausses and Defi of the Lowpool who was only a farmer.

If he blabbed what he knew and the word got to Ymirin…

He probably would need to leave Ascharon altogether.

Admittedly, it was a slim chance that the pirate would recognize him. Defi had been less than trash to him, once he had robbed him. But he might, and so his very presence was a threat to all that Defi had in this second world.

Who wouldn’t be furious? Who wouldn’t rage?

Fate seemed determined to make them clash.

It was twice now that he met the god-forsaken pirate coincidentally. The first meeting was a betrayal that nearly ended Defi. And now, the pirate was being given the chance again.

Did this world have a grudge against him?

Defi resolved himself. If the fate of one of them was to be destroyed, it was not going to be him.

*

It was Defi who broke the silence.

“Does zaziphos fruit well in the winter?” He wondered idly.

Sarel blinked out of her thoughts. “Not as much. You can have most of it if you want. Too bitter.”

“Won’t Adan like it more then?”

“He’s the only one that buys in winter.”

“Figures.”

“I added a few things to your list of supplies.”

“As long as I can afford it.”

“For your assistance with a company matter, Bluzand will pay it.”

Defi opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. “Was Madame Caria on the barge?”

“A different boat.”

“How did you find her so quickly?”

“There was nothing quick about it.” Sarel leaned back in her seat, and her eyes hardened. “She was running south to Crom, or we’d have lost her. Her hands were all over your pirate’s letters.”

“What’s in Crom?” He didn’t want to think about Degaine anymore.

“Her son’s grave-marker. Her two daughters as well.”

Defi paused. He’d not thought the woman had more children. He disliked traitors, but understood the need to get something back from those who had wronged you.

He said, carefully. “Her son’s death, it was a dutiful one.”

“Yes.”

“Someone pointed her at you.”

“Yes.” It was said casually.

Defi studied her. She did not look perturbed, so he let it go. “Her daughters, are they old enough to care for themselves?”

Vesia would want to know.

“The elder of the two is getting married, and the younger is said to be talented. They will grieve but she has dedicated much of her time to Bluzand in various ways. They know how to live without her.”

Dedication. Yes, that was what revenge was.

He shook his head, and emptied it of further questions. Bluzand did not have much to do with him.

“Thank you for taking care of Turq.”

Sarel sighed. “Be thankful no one would believe that your slime could become a seakrait. Good thing he recognizes me or you’d have lost him.”

Some memories filtered across his mind at her words.

Tennar had sat him in a closed carriage and Sarel had accompanied him to a physicker. The woman Sarel took him to thought he was unresponsive from shock at seeing such a ‘tragedy’.

Then he remembered the way Turq had crushed part of the barge between its coils.

“Is it normal for emotions to run across the summon-bond?”

“For summons you have a strong bond with, yes. In general, then no. Slimes though, their emotions aren’t too complex. You won’t get much bleed-over.” She lifted a brow at him. “Your bond with Turq is that strong?”

“I can feel where it is, generally.”

Sarel nodded.

“You have summon-beasts as well?”

Sarel waved a hand. “A long time ago. They died.”

“I apologize.” If she could speak on the strength of the summon-bond, then did she have strong bonds with her summon-beasts as well?

“You know, you were really lucky that it was the Lowpool you landed in.”

Defi accepted the change in conversation easily. “I know.”

The Lowpool was isolated because of terrain, most of its foreign trade was limited to the south of the town and the marketplace, and it was generally self-sufficient because of the lake. Most other places near the river, he would likely have been found by Ymirin before months had passed.

“His death is really enough for you?”

He smiled. “Are you asking if I want to kill him with my own hands?”

Sarel just looked at him.

He quieted, and the tempo of his tapping on Turq’s back slowed. “I had that chance last night, I think.”

“Did you?”

“Possibly.” She knew he’d not been in his right mind. Creator, he had not been practicing the Circles as often as he could have. “My hands or another’s. It doesn’t really matter. Things would end either way.”

“Mm.” She accepted his answer with a hum. And that was that.