by Brad Carsten
Plight, this really was a bad idea.
The current song flowed seamlessly into another. Men cheered. One climbed unsteadily onto a table to dance, while those around him roared with laughter.
Arise, arise ye men of old,
And don your cloak with care.
For time is short, and we must trot
To Madam Dankwood's lare
The beds are warm,
The girls are large
The wine's the deepest shade,
For Madam Dankwood knows your name
And how we should behave.
Men stamped their boots in time or drummed their mugs against the tables, but far too many watched Kaylyn brazenly. She was a beautiful woman, and even more so in a place like this, where the women were just as dirty and just as unrefined as the men.
A hard-looking man with a nest-like beard shouted something at Liam, but the singing was loud enough to mask it.
You'll lose your heart a thousand times
But find a thousand more.
For Madam's house of ill repute
will never close its door.
The girls will grant your every wish
They'll scrub your back with pride.
And when it's time to pay your bill
They'll fleece your cursed hide.
Well, there was no backing out now. They were all in, and Liam had to press on with their plan and hope for the best, but his mind began throwing up everything that could possibly go wrong.
He decided not to stumble again.
All he needed was someone pulling a knife, not as a criminal, but as a man with too much ale fighting over a pretty woman.
No, Liam had to come across as strong and capable if he wanted to keep these men away from him. He reached for his money bag, throwing back his coat to reveal his belt knife. He let it hang open for a time, and he kept his head high. He wasn't a drunk who had lost his way, but a man who knew where he was and didn't care.
He drew out a gold coin and flicked it over to a serving maid. “Your best wine for me and my lady, and keep it coming.”
The bearded man was still watching them, sizing them up, but the knife would have given him reason to pause.
The serving maid gawked at the coin for a moment, before giving an awkward curtsey, and scurried off for their drinks.
Liam went ahead of Kaylyn to a table at the edge of the room. The tables were all busy, and some people were sitting two to a chair, but there was little that money couldn't buy and all it took was a handful of silver to clear a table for them.
The eyes around the room hadn't left him, but were now accompanied by frowns, as people tried to figure out why he was here.
He sat with his back to the wall, alert and ready. Anyone who was looking for trouble would be gauging his abilities, taking everything into account. Good, let them look, let them talk.
His drinks arrived in a filthy cup, and he tossed the barmaid another silver coin. He wiped the rim of the cup with a handkerchief before taking a sip. The wine was disgusting. It tasted like sour sweat, and he couldn't help pulling a face. He had heard that the wine in a city was often of poorer quality, but he hadn't expected it to be that bad.
Across the room, that fellow with a large beard was getting more agitated with them, as though their very presence irritated him.
Liam was calm on the outside, but inside, his stomach was doing flips. The last thing they needed was some hot-headed fool drawing them out of cover. What they were doing was already dangerous, with many ways that it could go spectacularly wrong, and he was beginning to see just how spectacularly wrong it could be.
He took another sip of wine, keeping an eye on the fellow without looking at him directly.
Kaylyn wrinkled her nose, saying something about the smell, or perhaps it was about the drink, but her voice was all but drowned out by the singers and the people banging their mugs on the tables.
The place smelled like a mix of cheap tobacco and stale wine, and was filthy. The straw on the floor couldn't have been changed for months if not years, and dirt and spilled drink had congealed on the table.
As soon as the tavern owner heard that there were people in his tavern handing out silver, he pulled the serving maid off of the table to serve them himself and brought over another drink for each of them and a small bowl of stale pumpkin seeds, and grinned a gapped-tooth grin when Liam tossed him a silver.
His knuckles were sunken and his nose crooked as though it had been broken many times over the years.
Liam couldn’t speak to Kaylyn without leaning over the table, as it was too noisy inside, and so the next time the tavern master came over to fill up their mugs, Liam asked for a trinkets board to help them pass the time. Truth be told, he was struggling to find anything to say to Kaylyn, and he needed a distraction, apart from the singer fluffing her skirts and showing more leg than he was used to.
She had started a new song about a lad that tried to swindle the dock workers by dressing up as a lady of the night before leading them off into an alley to rob them.
Trinkets was a favourite back home in Lyndwon. It consisted of a box with holes drilled into the bottom in different patterns: a dragon, flames, a face. This one was crudely drilled into the shape of a donkey. Some of the holes were painted red and the others black. And all you had to do was throw in the trinkets, which were worth different values, and see where they landed. Black added points and red subtracted them. Master Blithe had always said that the game was simple enough for a light head to follow.
The tavern master hadn't given them a cup, so Liam finished his wine and dropped the trinkets inside.
They played a few rounds, each lost in their own thoughts, as darkness crept across the windows. Liam was almost reluctant to call it a night and head out into the thickening fog and darkening sky, but they were here for a reason and had to get back before that cursed hunter sent anyone else after them.
Kaylyn hadn't slept much over the last few days, not since leaving Brigwell. Her eyes had dark lines under them, and she was yawning constantly. That was another reason to get back. She couldn't keep pushing herself like this.
The tavern master was just as reluctant to see them leave, and after he couldn't talk them into hiring a room for the night, he made Liam promise to tell his friends about the tavern.
Liam handed another silver coin to the keeper assuring him that he would. He gave some more to the minstrels as well. If anyone didn't know by now that he had coin, they were either too stupid or drunk to do anything about it anyway.
He drew a deep breath before stepping outside. This was it.
The fog was much thicker outside. The buildings appeared flat and gray, and he could hardly see more than ten paces in front of him. They may have left it too late already. By the time night settled over the streets, the fog would be too thick to see a fly on your nose.
He tried to think of something to say, just to draw the attention of anyone who may be looking for them, but his mind was too busy throwing up all that may go wrong. A man with a bow or crossbow could kill them before they knew he was there. Plight, they hadn't thought this through.
“The streets are quiet,” he said. They had almost emptied completely.
“Well, that's what we wanted, right?” Kaylyn said, through a yawn. “I hope we can find our way back. Do you know which direction we're meant to be heading in? I can hardly think straight anymore.”
“I think it's up here.” His ability with directions didn't work quite as well in a city. Perhaps it had something to do with all the buildings packed so tightly together. The Sage had called it “communing with the land,” and there wasn't much land around here, but he had paid attention on the way over, and failing that, could feel the outer gate through which they had first entered the city. From there they could find their way back easily enough.
Liam hummed one of the tunes from the tavern. It was a haunting sound in the quiet streets.
He was aware of the sou
nd of their footsteps, and then more footsteps behind them. He touched Kaylyn's arm and she nodded. His hand trailed down to his belt knife. Someone was running. Liam could hear him crossing one of the side streets, and a few moments later, figures emerged from the alley in front of them. Behind, six figures were approaching. Liam could barely make out the shape of them in the fog. Those in front spread out across the street blocking the way, and the other six men came in from behind.
“Is this them?” one of them said.
“Yeah, that's them alright.”
Shapes formed into rough looking men carrying knives and cudgels.
Liam was half expecting to see the man with the beard, but he wasn't among them.
“Good evening, fellows,” Liam said. His voice was strained, and that wasn't put on. “We're not looking for any trouble. We're just going to step past you and we'll be on our way.”
“You're not going anywhere,” a man said, wiping a grimy sleeve across his nose. “This is our quarter, and you come here, moving people from their tables, throwing your coin around, thinking you're better than us.” He spat at his feet. “You ain't better than us.”
Liam raised a hand as he directed Kaylyn behind him. “No one thinks anything of the sort.” A few more steps, and the men would be on them.
“And who's your little lady friend? The whore is pretty, she is. Once I've gutted you, I'm going to get nice and familiar with her. Oh yes, nice and familiar. All of us are, ain't we lads?” The man licked his lips.
The others made crude gestures. Another, a giant of a man, just stared at them with malice.
“This really is turning out to be quite a night,” the fellow shouted, exuberantly, like a performer.
“I’m afraid you won't lay a hand on her,” Liam said. “A fellow like you, you wouldn't know how.”
The smile vanished instantly, and his lips curled in a snarl. He pulled a dagger, spinning it between his fingers. “I'm going to enjoy this.” By the way he handled his dagger, he would have been a formidable opponent, but not against a wretched.
His dagger slashed out for Liam's face, and it hit an invisible barrier. The man blinked in surprise a second before he and the others were thrown back.
Kaylyn had her hands out, but there was something strange about her—her eyes in particular. He couldn't place it.
They slammed into the opposite wall, and she held them six feet above the ground.
Kaylyn glided up to the leader, and when she spoke, her voice was distant, almost dreamlike. “What did you say you wanted to do to me?” He turned like the hand of a clock until he hung upside-down. His face twisted in terror, and he thrashed to get away from her, but her power held him tighter than a noose around his neck, and was more effective. He tried to speak, but his mouth clamped shut.
Kaylyn, who was eye level with him, put her face right up to his. “Speak up. I can't hear you.”
The other men fought just as much to break free, but they couldn't move any more than a rat in a fox's jaws. If any of them could speak, they'd be screaming; Their eyes were screaming and they watched her like those rats would the fox.
“Can you feel that?” she said. “The air around you is getting a little stale isn't it? A little warmer. You see, I've put a bubble around your head that traps the air inside. I could fill it with water and watch you drown. I could heat it until the skin peels away from your face, or I could just watch as the air runs out and your body begins to convulse.”
Liam shifted awkwardly. She was trying to scare them, but some of that was rubbing off on him.
“Yes, I think I will go with the first option, and then a moment before you die, I'll bring you back and then I'll go with the second. I'll tie it off. Your friends will watch you heating up slowly. They'll carry buckets of water to you to try to cool you down, but the water will simply wash off of you without doing a thing. It'll take four hours before they smell the meat cooking. You'll still be alive, but your voice will be too hoarse from screaming.” She laughed.
The man's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and sweat beaded across his forehead. His breathing quickened, but he couldn't get enough air.
“Is that what you want?” she screamed, and even Liam jumped. The man next to him, the giant of a man, flew forward and back, forward and back, hitting the wall over and over, like a doll, until his blood painted the stones behind him and his head flopped around limply. “Is that what you want?”
Liam touched Kaylyn's shoulder. “Kaylyn, that's enough.” She was taking this too far, but she ignored him.
The knife slid out of the leader's hand and floated in front of his face. The point slid towards his eye, and when she spoke there was nothing dreamlike about her. “Or perhaps I should take the gift of sight from you, so that my face is the last thing you see, and you can spend the rest of your miserable life thinking about this moment and the choices you made.”
The man's chest heaved up and down. His skin looked gray and clammy. Sounds issued from his throat like he was trying to breathe, or speak, or scream.
“Kaylyn,” Liam said. Her eyes were more than hard, they were cold.
She looked down at the man's hands, trembling so badly he wouldn't have been able to hold an empty mug. “Now these are the hands that you wanted to touch me with. Perhaps I should keep them from touching anyone ever again. His back arched, and he screamed in his throat. His fingers bent back and Liam heard the bones snap. His wrist twisted, breaking, and his arm snapped to the side.
She was killing him, and Liam suddenly realised what was happening. She hadn't slept for who knows how long. She was too exhausted to handle her power. It was taking over her.
“Kaylyn,” Liam shouted. “Kaylyn!” Stepping in front of her, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
The knife turned red hot as though it had been in a fire. It slid down the man's cheek, melting the skin.
The others gasped for air. Their eyes bulged and thick tongues squeezed out of their mouths.
Kaylyn had a distant look in her eyes. “Kaylyn you need to snap out of it!” Liam turned her head to look at him. “Kaylyn, look at me. Look at me. This isn't you. Look at me.”
The coldness left her eyes, and she suddenly blinked. Whatever was holding the men vanished and they collapsed to the floor. She took in the blood and matted hair on the wall and staggered back. Her mouth opened as though to speak, but she didn't say anything.
The leader cradled his broken arm but even so he fell back against the wall to get away from her as though trying to climb into it. “You're her. You're the princess. His words split off into a garbled prayer in a language Liam didn't recognise.
“What are you talking about? What princess?” Kaylyn had turned and was walking away in a daze.
“That's her. That's her. That's her. That's the princess they're looking for. It's her. Light help me, it's her.”
“Who's looking for a princess, talk to me man.” Liam had to grab the man by the coat to get his attention, but he screamed and shielded his head. Kaylyn had really gotten to him. She had gotten to Liam as well. For the first time since meeting her, he had seen that darkness inside of her. Perhaps that’s what the Sage was speaking about. “What do you mean they’re looking?”
The man's shoulders shook, as he began to sob. He was too far gone to answer.
Liam cursed, and turned on the next in line. “What is he talking about?”
“The—the watch heard—” He had to swallow. “The watch heard the princess was in the city somewhere m'lord, and they offered a good reward for her they has, but I'm a loyal king's man m'lord.”
“Grout!” How in fate's name did they find out about her? No one knew she was still alive.
Kaylyn was already halfway up the street, and Liam hurried after her. As soon as he turned, the thugs scattered.
Two blocks away, Kaylyn's resolve broke, and she collapsed onto a low-lying wall. “Liam, I didn't mean to. I didn't. When I thought about the things that they wanted to do
, and may have done to others I—I lost control.”
“You don't have to explain. They didn’t feel anything for you. They got what they deserved.” While that may be true, Liam couldn't unsee the body lying in the street, or forget that cold look in her eyes.
“Liam, you don't understand. I lost control of my power.” She shut her eyes and tears squeezed onto her cheeks. “Gaharah is filthy, and I have to fight it constantly, or it takes over—and—and I let it take over just for a moment. I didn't just want to scare him, I wanted to torture him. I wanted to hear him scream. I wanted to smell his flesh burning and taste his blood. That's who I am.” Her face twisted. “That's the kind of monster you're with...” Her shoulders shook, and Liam drew her into a stiff hug, with a thousand thoughts going through his mind. He had seen evil in her, but she seemed genuinely upset about it. He didn't know what to think. He just didn't know.
“Kaylyn, we can deal with this later, but right now we've got worse problems to deal with. They know about you. The watch is looking for you. We have to leave.”
She looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“They know that you're the princess. They know about Gaharah.”
She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “But how can that be? Only a handful of people know about me?”
“I don't know, but they said the watch was looking for you, and so right now, we have to try to find a way out of this city before we run into any patrols.” If Kaylyn was forced to use her power again, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop her. As soon as he could be done with her the better. He considered walking away right then and there, but those thugs had seen him, and if they caught her, he'd be next, and they'd hang him right alongside her.
Chapter 22
The cold night wind pummeled the wagon, and Quinn held Fayre to keep her warm. She was battling to breathe, and every cough brought spasms of pain wracking through her body. Keeping her upright seemed to help a little.
