After tracking down the merchant who had fled a good two miles upriver with Kathleen on his heel – nevermind finding the horses and mules, most of whom were cut as a loss – they finally had made it back nearly three days past schedule and with Brisen chomping at the bit. But the somber approach with only three of her people had stifled her temper. Not even the hefty bonus the merchant had given had cheered her. Which was unexpected. Proved that Brisen had a heart at least. She had listened to Zoe’s… theatrical telling of the battle and it had taken both Anthony’s vehement reassurance and Payton’s reluctant one that the spunky rogue was indeed telling the truth for her story to be believed. If only Payton had paid attention to the gleam in Brisen’s eye maybe she could have stopped this all. But she had been anxious to get away from Zoe’s fanatical hero worship and the awed respect with a dash of fear that now hovered around Anthony so she didn’t pay attention.
“Make it stop,” she demanded as she walked into Brisen’s office without knocking.
The woman was seated at her desk much in the same position she had been in last time Payton had been asked in. Only now Hitchens was there, sitting on the edge of her desk, a ledger in his hand. Neither of them looked surprised to see her, though Brisen appeared annoyed at her lack of manners.
“Excuse me?”
“Make. It. Stop,” Payton enunciated each word as she came to a stop in front of the desk and placed her hands flat on the wood. “I know it was you who told everyone. Zoe’s not stupid enough to say anything after I asked her not to and Anthony can’t even say manticore without looking like he’s going to wet himself.”
“It easily could have been the merchant or your family,” she challenged, waving her hand to dismiss Hitchens. The man gave her a sour look before exiting.
She hadn’t thought of that. Her brothers would never gossip about such a thing. Equal parts jealousy and concern most likely but she hadn’t considered the merchant. “Don’t try and deflect what you did. I want you to make it stop.”
“Stop what?”
“The talk. The looks. The…” She fumbled for the word and just ended up waving her hand about in the air like a madman. “All over the city, it doesn’t matter where I go, whether I’m on the job or not, I hear it everywhere. Uptown, in the lower districts, craftsman district. Hell even at the docks and slums! What did you do? Send out a personalized letter to everyone in the city that one of your members managed to do something really amazingly stupid?”
“I’d hardly call your blind luck in slaying a manticore “amazingly stupid”,” Brisen said as she stood up. “And you know well enough that I would not waste any coin or time on such a thing as sending letters like that.” A confident smile on spread her lips. “But the right word said here and there…”
“Why? Why did you do this to me?”
“Whatever made you think this was about you?”
Payton leaned back on her heels, blinking. Her mind turned over those words, considering them. She had been so caught up in the frustration and embarrassment of all the attention she was getting over something she felt she did not deserve - honestly, she was terrified most of the fight and one move away from shitting her pants – that she did not consider the other side of it. Brisen had seen it as the perfect marketing tool for her precious band of minions. After all, who wouldn’t want to hire the mercenary group who could boast they had someone who had taken down a manticore.
“Couldn’t you have changed the name? The details? Why did you have to keep it about me?” she finally asked.
“Makes it more believable.” At her incredulous look, Brisen sighed and gave a very put-upon expression. “We hire all sorts but lately we’ve been gleaning from the refugees. It has turned some of our wealthier clientele a little more distrustful on whether or not we still provide quality service. What you did is prove that not only do we provide it, we go above and beyond, but you, as a refugee, have worth. I had assumed you would not mind being that sort of proof.”
“I… well…” Payton scowled.
She did not believe Brisen. Or didn’t want to believe her. The woman was trying to placate her or simply play her. But in the end what choice did she have? Storming in here the way she did was an action done out of anger and frustration, not common sense. Brisen could do little but change the name in the story but the very reasonable explanation why she hadn’t only stood to irritate Payton.
“I don’t like it,” she finally grumbled.
“And I don’t like a great many things in life but I have learned to live with them,” Brisen said pointedly.
Scowling, Payton averted her gaze. “Fine.”
“Excellent,” Brisen cheered. “Now, you’re on patrol of the Maddison-Mahra warehouses tonight. Your team is waiting for you.” She wiggled her fingers in a scooching motion.
With a sigh, Payton turned and left. Trudging down the stairs she indeed found a group of four waiting for her. Zoe was the only familiar face. They were all staring at her when she approached and Payton had to resist the urge to say something snarky or just shout ‘boo’.
“Is it true you took out a manticore all by yourself?” one of them asked in awe.
Or stab them. A nice friendly hello stab. That sounds like an excellent idea.
Zoe, sensing Payton’s building frustration, stepped forward. “Yup and she’s not too keen on telling the story again so if we do a good job then I’ll tell you. Far away from her. Alright?”
Payton wasn’t sure if Zoe was asking her permission or declaring the question to the group. Either way, the answer had to be the same. It wasn’t as if any of them had a choice in the matter. They had a job to do.
A boring, boring job.
Six hours they did rounds walking the length, inside and out, of the damned warehouse belonging to the double MMs who apparently only liked moving merchandise at night. Nothing happened. No one came. It was a dull and horribly boring night and the bloody new people asked four separate times for details about the manticore. By the time one of the Ms showed up to make the sale with some shady looking person, Payton was ready to scream. Money exchanged hands and that was that. Their job was done.
As they were turning to leave the shady lady called out to them. “You’re the Wyverns, right? Is it true what they’re saying? About that refugee who took down the manticore? Heart or Clark right?”
Payton froze, her eyes flaring, jaw clenching. She heard the buzz of Zoe talking, likely answering but she didn’t comprehend the words. Enough was enough. She had to get away from this. She started walking and did not stop until she reached the Pissed Pegasus.
Nyla was not in sight but that might not have been unusual. Payton had only been to the Pegasus once when it was this late and she couldn’t remember if Nyla had been on duty then either. Coming up to the bar she took her seat and ordered a drink.
“Coming right up,” the male bartender said. Ted or Tad. Thomas? Creators why couldn’t she remember his name.
To her surprise, however, it was Nyla who brought her the drink. “Thaddaeus pulled me out. He said you looked like you had been through the wringer. What happened?”
“Just discovering my life is outside of my control and longing for anonymity. Thinking I can find a bandage for the shitstorm of what my life had become in the bottom of your delicious ale,” Payton explained with a tight smile.
Nyla arched her brow and slowly nodded. “Uh-huh. Right.” There was a moment where she stood there, appearing to weigh something in her mind and then she was abruptly circling the counter. “Come on, come with me.”
“What? Nyla—hey!”
The redhead had physically pulled Payton off her stool and was dragging her back behind the bar, barely letting Payton have time to grab the mug of ale. The two disappeared into the back room and then down a set of stairs into what looked to be a larder. It was filled with kegs and bottles of wine and whiskey and—a table? In the center of the room, there was a table with chairs circling it. The table was occupied by t
wo people she immediately recognized.
“If it isn’t the beast killer herself!” Atherly gushed in greeting. “Shall we bow and kiss your feet?”
Payton scowled and tugged her arm free. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”
“No, don’t do that,” Nyla begged. “Come on, stay. We’re playing Dragon’s Luck.”
“We do a couple games a week to unwind from the stress of work,” the Guard-Captain informed.
Payton snorted dismissively earning her a hard look from the dark-skinned woman who sat across the table from Atherly.
“Don’t believe the guard has hard work?” the woman challenged.
“No, I don’t believe that lazy healer has worked a hard day in his life.”
This had Takara break into laughter. “Oh, I like her.”
“Must you always pick on me?” Atherly bemoaned.
“Yes. I believe it has become a new hobby. Every time you flirt I shall find a flaw of yours to sarcastically point out until you learn your lesson,” Payton stated, earning her another round of laughter. She felt some of the tension begin to unwind.
“Which lesson? To stop flirting or fix the flaw?” Takara asked, her brown eyes glittering.
“Both, either,” Payton answered slowly allowing Nyla to direct her to a seat.
“I’m beginning to like this plan,” she declared.
“Don’t I get a say in it?” Atherly objected.
“No,” the three women chorused.
Atherly pouted.
Nyla swept the cards from the center into her hand and began to shuffle. “Today I had three people decide to reenact Payton and the Manticore. They broke my chairs. You’ve become a legend.”
Payton groaned, dropping her head to the table with a thud. “I need a drink.”
“You have a drink,” Takara pointed out.
The raven-haired rogue peeked up at her tankard as if she just realized it was there. After a split second of staring, she shook her head. “I need another one. Or five. Maybe twenty? Anything to get away from this… hero worship.”
“Not liking the fanfare?”
“You wouldn’t either if you had actually faced the beast in question. It was sheer luck I managed to kill it. The stories… they’re making it out to be some sort of…” she wrinkled her nose as she searched for the proper word, “… dashing tale of knightly honor or some such nonsense. There was no shiny swords, no sparkling armor. Just a mean beast with sharp claws and spikes and teeth and a hell of a lot of blood.” She was still trying to get the stench out of her uniform. Her brothers said it was in her mind but she could swear she could still smell that beast.
“Just revel in it a bit, Clark,” Nyla said dismissively. “I get to charge double for the morons who want to come here just to see if you are working. I’m making a pretty profit.”
Payton frown, narrowing her eyes at the redhead over the edge of the tankard. “Somehow I feel as though my fee for being your muscle should go up.”
“Idle thoughts, it will pass,” she said cheekily.
“You’re taking advantage of my sudden and unwanted fame.”
“Ssshh, cards.” Nyla gestured to the game she had dealt out.
Rolling her eyes, Payton picked up the five cards in front of her and quickly organized the monsters on the front in their proper order. Fairly useless hand. Pushing two – were those peanuts? – forward as her ante, then she dropped three cards down for the exchange.
It was surprisingly easy to let herself get lost in the drone of conversation between the other three. Nyla and Atherly were the most animated but Takara was fairly talkative as well. She would not have pictured the Guard-Captain of all people showing up at this sort of establishment. Not that the Pissed Pegasus didn’t have its charm. Somehow Payton had just assumed the guard all had their own tavern. Some sort of upright, snooty place in Uptown where lowbrow people like Nyla and Payton – and Atherly, given his love of socially shocking comments – would stand out like sore thumbs.
“How is it that you three know each other?” Payton had to ask a few rounds into the game. Her curiosity had kept nudging that question to the forefront of her mind and demanded to be sated. She knew little about Takara besides her job and the fact she was a mage. The staff slung behind her chair was the primary indication of the latter.
Takara laughed. “I arrested them.”
“Hey now, you don’t have to go saying it like that,” Nyla objected. “You make it sound like we were in cahoots together. I was perfectly innocent.”
“Yes, you innocently were stealing purses in Uptown while Atherly distracted the women for you by telling a ridiculously untrue tale about saving the King of Malvathar’s life from a raging chimera.”
“Oi!” Atherly exclaimed. “I still maintain my innocence! I had nothing to do with her mischievous dealings. I was wooing those women with…” he appeared to be searching for the right words.
“Outrageous lies intended to make you look like an adult and not a dog in heat?” Payton supplied.
“Yes, out—hey!” he started to agree only to stop when he registered what she had said. He threw a peanut at her. “Just because you haven’t fallen for my delightful charms doesn’t mean they aren’t wonderfully sinful and amazing.”
“I have to wonder where he gets his information from,” Payton idly mused. “Someone has to be filling his head with this nonsense that he’s actually good at flirting otherwise I’d think the collective of women would have struck him down with the sheer number of denial at his stupidity.”
He clapped a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”
“I can.”
“Anyway,” Takara said loudly. The cards were handed out and they anted again. “I had them both in my cells and they are both trying to charm their way out. Then they try to charm each other to help the other out. I nearly broke a rib trying not to laugh. Ended up cutting them both loose because she happily gave up the money and he was too much of a pain in the ass to keep around. I swear, ten guardsmen swooned over him and his magic.”
“See,” Atherly said haughtily.
“After that they just... never left. Nyla showed up and decided I was her pet project. Atherly had caught the notice of the Arbiter because he was making a name for himself by hiring out as a healer so suddenly I had to deal with him because he now had a contract with the guard. And thus…” Takara gestured to the table as if her words explained what was in front of her.
“They do just sort of decide to adopt people, don’t they?” Payton snickered.
She lost the hand, badly. Atherly was happily sliding his winning pot of fifteen peanuts toward his pile. A new hand was dealt, this one slightly better. At least she got a few higher cards in a row. Not in the same suit but maybe she could go for a Coat of the Beasts. Deciding it was worth a shot, she dropped four peanuts in and placed two cards face down.
“How are you liking your new job?” Takara asked as their replacement cards were dealt.
Payton made a face. “It’s... I don’t know. Okay, I guess? Better than lugging boxes around. Not as boring sometimes.”
“Killing a manticore with your bare hands definitely can’t be considered boring,” Atherly muttered under his breath.
“Oh for Creators’ sake, it wasn’t with my bare hands!” Payton snapped. “It was with a knife. A knife to the throat as it tried to kill me. You can even see the claw marks on my armor where it almost succeeded.” It occurred to her that Brisen not replacing her armor might not be because of financial tight fisting but because as it was, Payton was a walking reminder of what she did. She was beginning to regret not punching the woman for spreading the story like she had.
“But the story is true?” Takara asked with a raised brow.
She closed her eyes and counted back from five. When she opened them all three were staring at her eagerly. “Because you two are my friends and you didn’t arrest my brothers and me, I’ll share the story but only this once. And you all have to promise n
ever to ask me about it again. I just want this stupid thing to die down and go away. I have no desire for fame.”
“Agreed!” Nyla chimed happily.
Huffing, she slowly began to tell them the truth of what happened. Not whatever ridiculous story was floating around that had gotten garbled in translation. The gritty and bloody truth that saw three people killed and her nearly devoured. When she was finished she took a long drink from her tankard.
“Alright then? I don’t want to hear any more questions about it.”
“Holy shit,” Nyla said in disbelief.
“You’re… you’re not hurt, right? I mean, you’re walking and everything but…” Atherly’s steel gray eyes were darting over her as though he could do a magical scan with them alone. She was surprised that his question wasn’t laced with a joke or flirtation but instead had genuine concern.
“I’m fine. Really. The worst I got was a few couple scrapes and some bad bruises,” she assured. It was clear he wasn’t certain if he wanted to believe her but she wasn’t going to submit to a healing treatment so he finally nodded. “So are we done with this? Can I go back to trying to drink away the fact everyone is gossiping about the thing that nearly killed me?”
For a few rounds of cards, the conversation happily did shift off her. Nyla and Takara talked a bit about whether guards ought to make rounds near the taverns in the city or if employing hired muscle like Payton was the better way to deal with unruly customers. It was on their fifth round, one where Payton was certain she was going to win when suddenly Takara turned to her.
“Your… recent triumph did award me an opportunity I did not have before,” she said as she folded during the second ante.
“I thought we were done talking about that,” Payton muttered.
“I’m still not allowed to hire you or your brothers but I’ve been given leave to offer you the chance at the guards’ training grounds,” she explained.
“What? Why?” Payton asked only to realize why a moment later. “Because of what I did. Someone above you wants to see me in action?”
“Yes. But I do believe you might enjoy it nonetheless.”
Shattered Page 12
