by Taki Drake
For an instant, Jenna teetered between slapping the grin off the woman’s face and pulling her gun and eliminating her. Drawing a deep breath, the former Marine kept her emotions off her face and looked the dressmaker directly in the eyes, saying, “I will so inform my Lady. This will remove any guilt she has about not patronizing the local, provincial establishments. She will definitely be relieved that there is no bar to her routing her custom to those that are more deserving of her patronage.”
It was a small, petty victory, but the irate former Marine didn’t care. The satisfaction she got from the outrage and shock on Mycia’s face carried Jenna out of the shop and down the block.
As Jenna walked, her mind was whirling around, bouncing from thought to thought like an out of control rubber ball. These people have no idea what they are setting in motion. Ruth doesn’t really care what they think of her, but the attacks on Pawlik are going to set off a firestorm bigger than anything they can imagine. I never knew how out of touch the nobles are. They don’t think anyone can touch them. No consequences, no danger. To them, it’s all a game.
Walking a little bit further, Jenna started to grin. Ruth plays for keeps. And her game is bigger and more powerful than theirs. They will curse the day they decided to insult Pawlik and tried to intimidate Ruth.
Chapter 23 – Hateful Crimes
Florn Shopping Area, Arkken Port
Mary was excited. It seemed like years since her last shopping trip. Over the last few weeks, she had run the occasional errand in Borachville, but nothing as important as what she was going to do today. Hopefully, Mary would be successful in finding someone to create an exquisite gown for Ruth.
The former slave owed Ruth so much. Even before the traumatic Unfettering that had transformed Ruth into a powerful Mage, the woman’s kind willingness to give of herself had drawn the traumatized Axlen female to her side. Unable to speak, the quadrapedal woman had silently assisted Ruth, Pawlik, and Ruth’s son Cal, as they tried to keep spirits up and stay sane during their horrific ordeal.
Armed with the second name from Steward Harril’s list of recommended gown designers, Mary entered the bespoke dressmaker shop of Chraha Erson. Named the Silken Swan, the establishment was located in a bustling area of Arkken Port, full of intriguing shops and small alleyways.
The quadrupedal woman was looking forward to seeing beautiful fabrics and exquisite gowns. She might even have time to look for something special for herself. It would be nice to have something for dress-up. Perhaps even something that her friend Jack would find beautiful.
“Get out! Get out! I don’t allow animals in my store!” A plump older woman was screeching and running toward Mary waving her hands.
The stunned Axlen female quickly responded, saying, “I am a sentient being and a member of the Alliance.”
Chraha’s screams pulled a horde of people from the studio’s sewing rooms and stocking areas. To Mary’s startled gaze, the storefront was quickly flooded, and she was surrounded.
The dressmaker continued to scream, and Mary could hear the hate in her voice as she yelled, “You are just an animal. I don’t believe you’re a member of the Alliance anymore that I would accept that four-legged creatures are capable of real thought.”
The crowd around Mary was muttering comments that got louder and more emotional as the people egged each other on.
“Nothing but parasites that feed off the rest of us.”
“Go back to your primitive planets and stop trying to get by stealing jobs from the real people of Arkken.”
“Get out of my shop, or I will get someone to dispose of you like the sick creature that you are.”
Mary attempted to reason with the group. It was inconceivable to her that they would be this enraged, this angry when she had never seen any of them before. Raising her voice to be heard, she called out, “Steward Harril sent me here to find out if you would take a valuable commission for the Mage Ruth. Supposedly, the last Lady of Borachland was a patron, and the steward thought that you would like to continue that patronage.”
Chraha responded with spite lacing her words, “Lord Pawlik’s departed mother would disown him if she knew that he was trying to use her dressmaker to clothe his courtesan. I only offer my art to the nobility, and definitely, don’t do anything for gutter sweepings.”
Mary was insulted, immediately springing to the defense of her employer and friend, “Lady Ruth is an honorable woman and is certainly not a courtesan. She is responsible for saving many lives, and Lord Pawlik was the one who convinced her to come here.”
“Hah, a likely story. The tramp probably whimpered and looked traumatized. I don’t know a man, noble or not, that will think clearly if his hormones are involved.”
Responding heatedly, Mary said, “You do them both an injustice. They worked together to engineer our escape, saving countless lives in the process. You have no idea obviously about whom you’re speaking.”
Chraha sniffed disdainfully, advancing until she was only a few feet in front of Mary. Looking the quadrupedal woman up and down, the dressmaker sneered and suggested, “Perhaps you should go down to the docks. They have dressmakers that will make any sort of bizarre costume for people that entertain I’m sure the way that your ‘Lady Ruth’ does. As for the idea that she is a Mage, those people are a myth, and I, for one, don’t have any time for such fantasy.”
Trying once more to calm the situation down, Mary held out her comm-unit and suggested, “Please, you can contact the Borach steward, whom you know. He will verify what I have said. I don’t want you to believe bad things that are untrue.”
The dressmaker snarled in a fury and smashed the comm-unit out of Mary’s hands and onto the floor. Mary made a frantic grab for the expensive device, but it slipped through her fingers and shattered. She cried, “Why did you do that? There is no reason for you to be this hateful.”
Pain exploded across Mary’s back, sharp and overwhelming. Repeated blows hammered the woman to her knees. The agony of rent flesh and the sticky, flowing heat of bloody wounds partially smothered the screaming words that surrounded her.
“Filthy animal. How dare you set a single foot, excuse me one hoof, in my store. You are nothing, nothing at all.”
“Kill her!”
“Skin the beast! We can make her into boots!”
“You must’ve stolen this from a real person. You need to be punished.”
“I will have to fumigate the store to get the stench of the farm out of here.”
Mary couldn’t breathe. She struggled to draw air in, but the blows continued. She tried to crawl away, but someone grabbed her tail and held her down. Overwhelmed and panicked, the woman raised in a nonviolent culture had no way of escaping.
“Stop! You have to stop!” The voice was young, and the speaker definitely female. Even through Mary’s agony, she heard the angst in the youngster's speech.
The blows slowed and stopped. Without the interference of the attack, Mary heard the confrontive dressmaker’s response.
“Linie Martek, you forget yourself. How dare you challenge me? Have you forgotten that without me you will have no one to sponsor you as a dressmaker?”
“Chraha, you have hurt her and gone too far. This is not right!”
“She is nothing but a dumb animal masquerading as a person. They don’t feel the same thing that real people do. Besides which, she has no right to be in my shop.”
The young woman moved between Mary and Chraha, pleading, “No one would tell you you have to create a gown for someone you don’t want to do business with. But you’re committing a crime. You’ve destroyed her property and assaulted her.”
“I never realized that you had a sick fascination with beast folk. I suppose that means that you would betray me if I killed her. Wouldn’t you?”
There was a tense, silent pause before the girl named Linie answered in a shaking voice, “Yes, I would.”
Rough hands grabbed Mary’s arms and legs, as she was hoisted into
the air. Only semi-conscious from shock and pain, the woman was carried through a convoluted pathway, crushed into walls, and twisted painfully as those bearing her traversed hallways and stairs.
The metallic sound of a sliding bolt was followed by gentle movements of air. Smells of rot and decay lined Mary’s sensitive nostrils with a slime coating. An angry guttural voice punched through through her dazed state, as brutal twisting force was applied to her tail. “Dump her over here, with the rest of the trash. The garbage will improve her stench.”
The woman felt her body tossed through the air for a short distance before slamming with bone-cracking force onto a jumbled pile of rock and metal. Mary heard a snap as one of her ribs gave way. Pain spiked and the tortured woman felt her consciousness dissolve into gray fog and shadowed light
<< <> >>
“Wake up, please, wake up.”
Mary thought she ought to recognize that voice. Fenced in by sharp agony, the woman did not want to open her eyes. She hurt too much if hurt could be described as pain so intense that it stole the breath from your lungs. All she wanted to do was tumble back down into the comfort of non-feeling, but there was something that drove her to wrestle with her body and pushed her eyelids up.
“Wake up, we need to get out of here. Otherwise, Chraha’s friends might come out and try to make sure you’re dead.”
Linie. It is the girl, Linie. She is the reason they didn’t kill me on the fancy floor of the dress shop. She was the only one to try and save me.
Mary opened her eyes, squinting them immediately in the pain of the dim alleyway light. Blearily, she saw Linie’s face as expressions went from desperate fear to hopeful thankfulness.
“Please, ma’am, I know you’re hurt, but we have to move to someplace safer. I will try to help you, but I’m not strong enough to lift you.”
The quadrupedal woman was incapable of coherent thought but responded to the urgency and concern in the young woman’s voice. Multiple painful attempts eventually resulted in Mary standing shakily on all four hooves.
Trusting her companion, the woman who had survived with Ruth on the Insectoid’s slave ship, allowed herself to be guided through the labyrinth of concealing passages and alleyways. The grating pain of her rib and wounds, the blood that still dripped down her body continued to drain energy from Mary.
Narrowing her focus to putting one hoof or foot in front of the other, the two companions moved further away from the dressmaker shop. To the injured woman, the journey lasted forever, stretching out in time and never getting close to their destination.
Finally, Linie gently pressed Mary back against a moss-covered rock. Whispering close to her ear, the young girl-woman murmured, “Wait here. I don’t know if they sent people to my room, so let me go look. I will be back as soon as I can. Just rest.”
Slowly, Mary lowered herself to rest more fully on the rock. The cold temperature of the stone numbed a small amount of the pain. Trembling, Mary dropped her swollen and bruised face into her hands, letting grief and anguish pour out, riding the vehicle of her heart-rending sobs.
Chapter 24 – Rescue and Succor
Arkken Port
Margot spent several more hours moving from bar to tea room, gathering more information on what was rapidly revealed as a conspiracy against Ruth and Pawlik. There were murmurs and rumors everywhere she went, and the skillful Recon scout gathered them all in.
It appeared that several distinct groups were engaged in this social warfare. The experienced Marine heard multiple references to the aristocratic women that were attempting to disrupt Ruth’s relationship with Pawlik. Margot thought that such a strategy might have worked if Pawlik only had a romantic attachment to Ruth. However, the conspirators had no perspective on a relationship that had been forged in the pain of the slave ship, and certainly had no concept of the bond between Mage and Anchor.
I wonder if part of the problem is that the nobility’s relationships are not based on affection but are instead all part of a game of plaques. Advantages and disadvantages, power and weakness, these are the things that they look for, but honest emotion is not factored in.
The second group of rumors and attacks seemed to be originating from the current heir to Borachland, a man by the name of Stefar Zentro. Margot had heard that he had petitioned to accelerate his control of the House of Borach on the basis that the estate needed to be managed by someone who was invested in its success. Pawlik’s return had stymied that effort, and the gossip was the heir was not amused.
According to the rumors that Margot collected, Stefar had not reacted well. He had immediately responded to the Lord’s survival by spreading rumors that Pawlik had been damaged by his experience, intimating that the Lord of Borachland was no longer in his right mind. He also betrayed Ruth as someone who was after Pawlik’s wealth and had played on the nobleman’s sympathy.
Margot almost laughed when she first heard echoes of those rumors. I wonder what that idiot would say if he realized that Ruth is the wealthier of the two. It is evident that neither Pawlik nor Ruth cares about who has the most money. However, the idea of Ruth pursuing Pawlik for that reason is credible in this society and could be a danger.
Continuing to gather the traces of the whispering campaign that Stefar was executing, Margot was also entertained by what appeared to be a third threat vector. The Arkken Council was involved in this effort, specifically in the person of the head Councilor, Fergali Hawin. The man was a vicious business competitor and had been ruthless in his efforts to control the Council. Now that he had control, he was attempting to erode the nobility.
Trying to discredit both Pawlik and Ruth, Councilor Hawin had people asking questions on why Ruth claimed to be from a planet that was not part of the Alliance, and why that planet was unknown. Questions were posed such as, “Where she really from?” intimating deception and disbelief.
Margot knew that their group was under attack from multiple enemies. She hoped that the information she had collected would be useful in the fight against their opponents.
<< <> >>
On the other side of town, Jenna left the dressmaker shop determined to salvage something out of her task list. Deciding that the overall dressmaker community was a lost cause, the woman shifted to the rest of her list of acquisitions. Moving from merchant to merchant, Jenna examined trims and other items in the list. Repeatedly, she was requested to leave the shop or refused when she tried to purchase something.
No one wanted to sell to the House of Borach. It didn’t matter who or what Jenna visited. Cobblers, jewelers, notions vendors, and others, the merchants that depended on the nobility to buy their luxury products had been forced into blocking out Ruth and Pawlik.
What a stupid group of idiots! At least in the military, I got to work with some competent people. These three groups don’t seem to understand that they’re going to end up losing. I would feel sorry for them, but I have the feeling that they have done this many times before. Perhaps it’s time that the tables are turned on them. I don’t see either Ruth or Pawlik knuckling under to this type of pressure. Heads are going to roll, and I’m going to be in the cheering section waving explosive pom-poms.
<< <> >>
It was time for the four women to touch base. Jenna and Margot were heading back to the bar, both of them discouraged. The two former Marines found themselves approaching the Force X Bar at the same time. Jenna was the first one to comment, stating, “I hope you had better luck than I did. Did you find anyone that would work with Ruth on her dress?”
Margot responded immediately, “Nope. I found plenty of evidence of multiple conspiracies to cause problems. I don’t think we are going to be able to counter the damage and vulnerability in the few days that are left before the dinner party. On the other hand, this has revealed efforts that could have been far more damaging if we didn’t know about them this early.”
“I think these people have a nasty surprise coming. What you do think?”
“They real
ly don’t know who they have just poked with a sharp stick. All three groups are used to being able to intimidate others to get their way, and I really can’t see either Ruth or Pawlik rolling over for them.”
“Me either. However, there is one thing that I know.”
“What is that?”
“I’m ready for a drink.”
Margot just nodded silently in agreement as they walked through the doorway to the Force X Bar.
<< <> >>
The stone was cold. It formed an anchor in the chaotic environment that surrounded the injured Axlen woman. Mary floated in a cloud of mind-numbing pain and increasing weakness. The woman had no energy for anything but existing. Waiting passively for death or rescue, she found poisonous pools of regret in her mind that escalated the hurts of her body.
I have never told Ruth how much I love her for being my lifeline, for saving my soul as well as my life. I hope she knows, but if I get past this challenge, I owe it to her to acknowledge that debt and tell her that she has my gratitude.
The Axlen woman was weakened by blood loss and her wounds. Unable to keep her protective walls up in her own mind, she found the second, more dangerous regret.
Jack. I know he’s attracted to me and I feel the same way in return. If I die now, I will never know where that might lead, and he will carry the pain of what might have been for the rest of his life. That’s not fair to him, but I am so afraid.
Rapid footsteps interrupted Mary’s slow thoughts. Starting to tense in fear, the Axlen female allowed her weary tenseness to dissipate at the sound of Linie’s voice. The contamination of sadness and anxiety in the very young woman’s words as she announced herself pulled Mary out of the well of her own pain.
“Linie, what has happened? Why are you frightened?”
