35: Old Man Bakura (Patreon)

“So, where are we headed, exactly?” Vir asked Alda as his leather shoes’ soles clacked on Saran’s cobblestone harbor roads.

Magic Lamp street lights bathed the entire pier in amber light, setting a rather melancholic mood, and the bracky brine hit them full force, now that they were right next to the ocean. Vir didn’t mind it—the many ships docked at the harbor captured all of his attention—but Maiya wrinkled her nose and gagged at its pungency.

Alda thumbed at a nearby wooden building. It was a squat, unadorned structure that burst with light and laughter.

“Wesside pub. Old man Bakura always hangs out ‘ere after work.”

“And you said this man’s a sailor?” Maiya said. “Why would he know where Bumpy is?”

“S’not a question o’ where he is. He’ll be at the Merchant Guild’s corral. Only place in town ‘sgot big enough stables for this kinda thing. It’s just that getting him out’s gonna be hard.”

“The merchant’s guild?” Asked Vir. “Wouldn’t they have taken him to a government stable?”

“The guild’s like this with the uffishals,” Alda said, crossing her fingers. “‘S’not strange at all.”

The pub’s double wooden doors were propped wide open, and upon entering, they found a place that had three times as many people as they designed it for. Some patrons packed in next to each other at the long tables while others stood, mugs of beer in their hands and flagons peppering the tables, no doubt filled with alcohol.

There was an exception to the crowd, though. In the back corner, nestled by itself, was a round table that was nearly empty. It stuck out like a sore thumb in this hive of activity, but the person who pulled Vir’s eyes was the black-bearded giant of a man who sat there, occupying two and a half seats on a bench, straddling his arms around two beautiful women.

Vir had never seen such a glorious belly in his life. He must be rich to eat like that, he thought.

And, of course, Alda walked straight for the corner with the enormous man that looked like a crime lord. He hoped Alda would turn aside at the last minute, because Vir could tell at a glance that this man spelled trouble.

“Old man Bakura!” Alda said, waving as she strode up to the man, crushing Vir’s hope.

Bakura’s eyes lit up in recognition and he raised a paw as large as a bear’s. “Well well well, if it ain’t lil Alde! What brings yer scalliwaggin’ arse to mah humble establishment? C’mere you, take a seat.”

His establishment!? Vir thought in alarm. “He owns this place?”

“Course he does,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She muscled past the woman next to him, giving her the stink eye, then plopped herself on the man’s lap.

Vir and Maiya awkwardly took their place across from Bakura, but though the circular table was quite large, the giant still loomed over them like a predator. A very rotund predator.

Alda giggled happily as the man ruffled her grimy hair with his equally dirty hand, showering her with affection. Vir wondered whether he was like a father figure to her.

“So anyway,” she said after she’d calmed down, “Need yer help, old man.”

“Oho? Do tell,” Bakura roared, amused. The man had ignored Vir and Maiya until now, which suited them just fine.

“Yeah, so. We need to break an Ash’va outta the merc’s guild.”

Bakura spit out his beer, spraying Vir and Maiya. “You WHAT!? Next, yet gonna tell me a Vimana’s parked itself above Saran, ain’t ye! And why do ah gotta do such’n thing, hmm?”

Alda continued, unperturbed. “Because you were a part of this, too. These two were jailed but they’ve done nuthin wrong. Neel o’er there even helped us out. Just tryin’ to make amends, y’know?”

Bakura slammed his mug down on the table and went silent. It felt to Vir like the entire bar had gone silent, but that was merely his fear drowning out all other sounds.

Because when the man stared Vir in the eye, it felt like he was looking at another Riyan. A pudgier, bigger Riyan, but whose gaze was in no way inferior to their instructor. He felt like Bakura was peering into the depths of his very soul, probing him. Judging him.

“So dat be how it like, eh?” Bakura said, leaning back to spit on the ground. The bench groaned under his weight.

Vir finally mustered up the courage to speak. “What do you mean?”

The big man looked angry.

He scratched the back of his head and spoke in a lower voice. “Dat badrakkin’ chal set me up. Promised me loads ‘o coin ‘n return fer some ‘risto clothing. ‘cept he never paid up. All I got was de advance. I’m in the red on dis one. Pittance ‘o a payout, ‘n now I got a ‘risto family out fer blood, don’t I?” He said, his eyes darting between Vir, Maiya, and the mug on the table.

“So the clothes you used…” Maiya said.

“The old man gave ‘em to us, yeah,” Alda completed. “And get this, old man! Those jailors were rude as heck! Even slapped Neel o’er there. Can you believe that? A Suvir!”

The man furrowed his brows. “Suvir, huh? Dey famous er sumfn?”

Alda looked at Bakura like he’d gone mad. “You don’t know of the Suvirs? Even I know ‘em, old man! They’re huge! Big time ‘ristos in Daha!” The girl said, winking at Vir.

Vir was thankful for her deceptionm, and he wondered whether she really was trying to do right by them. If she really helped them with getting Bumpy out, he was willing to let bygones be bygones. But if she did betray them again… he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his anger in check.

Bakura stroked his bears. “Daha, ye say? Always good ta have sum contacts in de capital. Hmm. Well, if ye were lyin’ ‘bout bein ‘ristos, ye’d have been beaten black ‘n blue. Not a scratch on ye, though.”

Maiya’s patchwork makeup job had done the trick. Vir shot his friend a thankful glance.

“But here’s what I don’t understand,” he said, eyeing Vir and Maiya. “If they let ye go, why’s yer Ash’va still captive, eh?”

Maiya spoke up for the first time. “W-well, we didn’t exactly escape. We couldn’t bear to remain another minute in those filthy cells, you see. When Alda offered to help us escape, we could hardly turn her down.”

“Uh huh,” Bakura responded. “Offered ye, fer coin. I know dis girl. Doesn’t do nuthin’ fer free!”

“Such denominations are nothing for us,” Maiya said, patting her coinbag, which was actually Alda’s old coinbag. Her words earned her a pointed look from the urchin.

“Reckon so. So, I help ya, ‘n ye go ‘n tell yer pappy ‘bout Old Man Bakura, won’t ye?”

“R-right,” Maiya said. “If you help us out, we can put in a good word with our father back in Daha.”

Bakura clapped his hands, then rubbed them together, all smiles. “We got a deal, then! I ain’t even gonna charge ye on dis one. Havin’ a risto fam in me pocket’s worth seric.”

“So, you’ll help us break Bumpy out of wherever he’s being kept, right?” Maiya said. “We’ll be leaving the city as soon as you can.”

Bakura blinked at her. “Boy, ye got no chance.”

“What?” Vir said. “Didn’t you just say you’d help us?”

“Ah’m sayin’ that one does not simply ride an Ash’va outta dem city gates after breakin’ out from de Guild. Too big. Too noticeable. Guards’ll be all over ya. Ye got no chance.”

“Then what should we do?” Maiya said, biting her lip.

If they couldn’t ride out of the front gates, they’d simply have to find another entrance. Vir was sure there were others… But were there other entrances that would allow an Ash’va through? That, he didn’t know.

“Aight, so. Here what we do,” Bakura said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Me ‘n me men’ll help ya break yer Ash’va out. But you ‘n de gal ‘r comin’ with me.”

“With you…” Vir said blankly.

“‘’Sright. Aboard me ship.”

Vir and Maiya exchanged a glance.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Vir said. As much as sailing out into the open ocean filled him with excitement, it sounded really dangerous. That they’d be at Bakura’s mercy on a ship. If the crew turned against him and Maiya… there’d be little they could do. Could they really trust him? “There has to be another entrance to the city.”

The man shook his thick neck, which jiggled. “That’s what ye don’t get, boy. Breakin’ an Ash’va out ain’t like breakin’ out a person. Trust me. Yer safer aboard me ship. We be headin’ south, fer Balindam.”

“Balindam?” Maiya asked. “Isn’t that the capital of the Pagan Order?”

“S’right, boy. So we can let ye loose along the coast just south ‘o town tomorrah. Ye can find yer own way back to de highway east from dere.”

“And you’re doing all of this just to get in my family’s good graces?” Vir said.

“Believe you me, Ah’ve seen sailors get into hot water fer less. Imma businessman, boy. Won’t risk me crew ‘n me business over ye. No ‘ffense, o’course.”

Vir looked to Alda. “Is there any other way to get an Ash’va out of the city?”

The girl shrugged. “Dunno. Don’t think so.”

Maiya turned pensive for a moment, then nodded to Vir. With that, his last reason to refuse crumbled away.

“Alright,” Vir said with a sigh. “If that’s how it has to be, then we’re onboard.”

As long as Bakura believed them to be Sawai aristocrats, there’d be little danger to themselves. Maiya must have come to the same conclusion. That was a big ‘if’, however. Vir would have to ensure the man had no reason to doubt them. That acting was best left to Maiya—she had trained for this, and a knack for it too.

“Good. Gimme an hour or two ta get me men ready. Haven’t pulled a heist like this in a long time. De boys are gunna love it.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for helping us, though?” Maiya asked.

Bakura guffawed and slapped the table so hard, Vir worried it’d break.

“That’s a good one, boy! This ain’t me first heist, no sir. Now, don’t get me wrong, this ain’t gonna be easy. I ain’t promisin’ this’ll work, but ye can trust us. Oh, but uh… akshully, ye may wanna disguise yerselves. Guards be lookin’ fer two black-haired ‘risto boys right ‘o bout now, most like. Best not to be seen. Then ‘gain, I don’t s’pose a buncha ‘ristos like yerselves know anythin’ ‘bout that.”

It took everything Vir had to suppress a chuckle. “I think we can figure something out.”

Alda led Vir and Maiya back to the urchin’s base while the sailor laid the groundwork for their heist. Weaved through the back alleys and broken walls, the girl bypassed the main roads as if it were second nature to her. Vir was thankful, as the path avoided any guards that might’ve been searching for a pair of escaped kids.

“Can we trust him?” Vir asked as they walked.

“Who? Oh, old man Bakura? Yeah, he’s aitte. Mebbe a bit grumpy, but he’s solid. Wish I could say that ‘bout most others.”

As they walked, Vir couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were going about this the wrong way. He thought back to Riyan’s words months ago. About how, with the proper disguise, they could walk into the king’s palace and steal from under his very nose.

The disguises had helped, yes, but they were still sneaking around like criminals. And if Vir had Maiya change his appearance now, the urchins and Bakura would ask questions. It was too risky—they’d worked themselves into a hole that they could no longer dig themselves out of.

If they’d played their cards better, maybe he could’ve dressed up as a stablehand and led Bumpy out under the guards’ nose. At the very least, he would’ve had more options. If nothing else, it was a lesson learned. All he could do now was resolve to avoid this mistake in the future.

They returned to find Barid back with a sack of supplies, beaming like he’d just pulled off his greatest heist.

“Y’see this? Hit the first store. Was in ‘n out just like that bam boom woosh!” Barid said, making animated gestures with his hands.

Maiya burst out giggling in her usual girly voice, but immediately coughed to cover it up. Vir’s heart caught in his throat, but neither Barid nor Alda seemed to have noticed.

Barid held his hand out and dropped a sack into Vir’s hands. Vir peered into the bag to find fifty Imperium coppers.

“You sure you paid for everything you stole?”

The boy shrugged. “I know how much dis stuff be worth. I ain’t gonna shortchange when I’ve got de money, man. Not like we steal cuz we wanna, y’know?”

“Sorry,” said Vir. “My bad.”

Barid waved off his concern. “S’no big. So, you guys ready ta come with, or ya want me to get the rest of the stuff?”

“Let’s go,” Vir said, pocketing the money.

The city thinks we’re criminals. It’s about time we started acting like some.