Free Shadowblade by Tom Bielawski

The light snow that drifted down in flurries also hindered his sight. Once he even thought he heard the sing-song accent of the Ayresman, but found only a grumbling captain of a fishing vessel bound for Obyn, muttering about stingy fares.
    He suspected his mind was playing tricks on him, then. It was very unlikely that his companions escaped from the lands of the Black Baron alive. He felt a slight stirring of guilt then, but quickly squashed it with the knowledge that he survived. Considering that it was far more likely someone else would try to kill him, the person he had been following may well have been someone paid to lead Zach into a trap. He decided it might not be a bad idea to create a little confusion among any who might be trying to track him, and knew just the sort of place to start.
    Brothels were a highly regarded source of information for those in the business of collecting it, visiting a brothel might prove a good way to spread disinformation.
    The port area seemed to be the least affected by the roving patrols of Red Dragons. Zach wondered about that phenomenon. It was unheard of in his many years of traveling that a monarch would employ mercenaries, cutthroats at that, to protect the citizens instead of his own soldiers or constables. While the Red Dragons had proved to be effective in their dispensation of justice, they were certainly not liked by the people of Powyss.
    The port area was not unlike its counterpart in Dockyard City, except that the street that paralleled the coastline and the docks was made of stone. The great wooden piers and dockways ran out over the water to his right. Great ships and small boats were docked in various places, the waters of the Port of Powyss were very deep and capable docking great ships. Sailors scurried among the riggings of ships and along the piers and harbor masters walked the docks collecting taxes from those using the port to unload goods or passengers. Gulls and pelicans squawked in great numbers, hovering above a fishing boat as it returned from sea, diving down to catch scraps of fish guts as they were thrown over the side. A giant osprey sat atop a light pole, staring about regally as though he alone were permitting the rest of the world to entertain him. A chill wind blew in from the sea, ruffling the feathers of the regal bird which was apparently immune to the cold.
    Zach was not immune to the cold, however, and pulled his coat tighter about him. He needed to buy some warmer clothes, the dead of winter was approaching and he knew that despite his desire to remain in Powyss he might eventually have to trek farther north to the Everpool.
    On the left side of the main street were the shops and business that made Powyss thrive. Many of the shops were connected, sharing a common building. Some buildings were separated by tiny alleyways that could barely accommodate a waif, yet others were large enough to be a viable escape from trouble occurring on the main road. He certainly hoped that such trouble would not find him before he had a chance to scout the alleyways and see where they led. It was folly to run down an unexplored alleyway when fleeing from trouble and he vowed to himself that he would undertake a thorough exploration of all the alleyways and hidden routes of the Port of Powyss.
    “The greater folly would be to face a danger you cannot conquer in the first place,” came the unwanted opinion of the invisible voice. Zach allowed his usual stoic countenance to engage in a great sneer. The voice seemed to have a habit of intruding on his thoughts of late, offering unwanted opinions. It was a habit that Zach was finding more and more detestable, possibly because the voice often made excellent points.
    “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he growled.
    “I am your opinion!” returned the voice. A few passersby gave him strange looks and one made an age old sign to ward off evil as he passed Zach. Zach shook his head and returned to his semi-private