“Go ahead.”
“Bardain raiders have come to Estar, Tarna has been razed and they are heading north to the temple at Mount Guul.” Dominic spoke in an almost monotone voice.
“Should I say who it is from?”
“Just mention, Dead-wick sent the message.” The innkeeper went silent and cocked his head to the side slightly with a look that was trying to force a response.
“Kiris.” The innkeeper called over his shoulder again while keeping his eyes on Dominic. “Bring out two plates of food dear.”
It wasn’t long before an attractive young girl in a stained tavern dress appeared with two plates full of food. Placing plates on the counter and leaving without looking up or saying a word. The bartender’s portly wife came from the back with a small brown leather sack and placed it next to the plates, glared at her husband and went back to her stool. Dominic grabbed the sack and hugged it under his arm before grabbing the two plates and stood from his seat.
“That message will need to get the garrison captain soon; the raiders have taken the Wind Gate and may head this way if they don’t find what they are after.” Dominic nodded at the man still cleaning the mug.
Without taking the acknowledgment from the bartender he left toward the stairs with their meals and clothes. The stairs up to the loft area were easier now that he could take them alone, sounds of pleasure coming from the odd room as he passed, walking down the corridor to his room door, he slowed in hopes to make sure that Chyla wasn’t still enjoying herself. After listening briefly outside the door, he failed to hear anything beyond the door and pushed his way in with his back.
Chyla lay naked on the bed with a pile of clothes beside her. She had a hand on one of her breasts with a couple fingers inside of herself, squirming slightly back and forth. Dominic stopped and turned away with the hope she would get things over with before she noticed him. Her soft moans told him that she was a ways away.
“Foods ready.” He slammed the door behind him with his foot. “Cover yourself and eat.”
Chyla’s eyes snapped open and she lurched upright, eyes wide open, looked toward the door. Pulling her fingers from inside her, she swiftly began rubbing her clitoris and her moans got quicker. It was not long before her climax filled the room and the sides of her inner thighs were covered in her juices. With a clench of her entire body and a big stretch, a sinful smile filled her face as she sat back up. Dominic shook his head while he ate from a plate, kick the bag of clothes towards the bed.
“Couldn’t bring the innkeepers daughter with you?” Chyla wiped down her legs and groin with the bottom part of the blankets. Crawling to the edge of the bed she hopped off and grabbed the other plate of food.
“Get some clothes on first.” Dominic pointed at the sack on the bed.
In a huff, Chyla reached over with her foot and pulled the sack closer. Opening the drawstring, she was met with disappointment and her groan filled the room as she pulled out each item and slid them on. Everything was just a little too big and draped around her like a shawl. Swaying back and forth she looked at Dominic with a scowl.
“This is poor people clothing.”
Dominic laughed with a potato in his mouth.
“We will need to get new stuff in the morning.”
“It should be fine for now. There is a little village north of here we can stop at if you need to get something else. We shouldn’t stay long in Dampth.” Dominic mumbled through a mouth full of food.
The crackling fire gave them company as they ate, the fire snapping into the darkened room and reflecting off their faces like the morning sun warming the provinces. Muffled sounds of the tavern down the hall could be faintly heard from under the door; laughter and the white noise of the mob, clinking of mugs on tables and footsteps across the wooden floorboards.
Odd shadows would pass by the door causing Dominic to stop eating and perk up in defense as they passed. The voices of patrons could be heard disappearing into the other rooms, drunken city folk spending their last coin on some pleasurable company before they passed out.
“Thanks for getting me out safely Dom, never a dull moment when we are together, is it?” Chyla put her cleaned plate down on the table and sat back on the edge of the bed, putting her hand back down between her legs.
“Told your parents I would keep an eye on you when they were away. Lucky that you showed up when you did, before the raiders got a hold of you.” Dominic pushed his empty plate into the middle of the small table.
“I would have been fine.”
“Even with a hand down your pants?” He gave her a sideways smirk
“Yes.” She glared back and stuck out her tongue. “Even with my hand down my pants. Any more money in that pocket of yours, get some company of our own tonight?”
Dominic just shook his head.
“Nuts, I could use some breasts in my face, get my mind off things.” Chyla slid further back on the bed and rest her back against the wall.
“We will have more time in Strazen, and you can flirt with the women there.” Dominic stood up to warm his hands against the fire again.
“I’ve never been to Strazen.” Chyla kept her eyes on the fire while she slowly played with herself.
“It’s a small village, little smaller than Tarna; on the edge of the Dranarx Woodland. There is an old friend I know there; he will take us in until we get our bearing’s.” Dominic turned from the fire and pulled off his shirt, exposing his hard features.
His smooth skin reflected the light from the fire, causing the dancing shadows to fill in around his muscled form. Sitting down on the floor to grab the balled-up blanket, he wrapped it around himself and sat back up against the wall.
“Be alright down there?” Chyla giggled through the words.
“I will be fine, just keep things to yourself up there.” Dominic huffed with a laugh and slid down the wall slightly, resting his head against the pillow that slid from under him.
“I won’t promise anything.” Chyla laughed and pulled off her baggy clothes, dropping them off the side of the bed onto him. Shuffling herself under the blankets, she listened for any rebuttal from the floor before curling her head against her own pillow.
The snap from the fire gave it a life of its own; filling the room with a soft life that would only be found in darkness. More shadows of patrons jovially slipped past the door in a drunken stupor, heedless of the troubles trying to be forgotten within the other rooms.
The night outside the tavern room window was dark, a lot darker than the night before. The city barely lit from the assortment of torches and brazier throughout the lake town. The sky knew that there was a sorrow that night and was doing what it could to give them a good night’s rest.
• • •
“What can I get for you my lady?” The innkeeper grabbed a new glass from behind the counter in preparation of the patron’s order and set it on the counter.
A tall woman dressed in a long black cloak stood at the bar with her large hood up. Her beautiful face barely seen under the shadow of the hood. The cloak draped all the way to the floor, hiding any sign of her feet. Soft green lips against a pale skin could be seen through the shade of her hood, along with a subtleness of the rest of her features that confirmed her beauty. Her hands were crossed within the sleeves of her cloak in front of her, as if she was trying to hide all potential skin from showing.
“I am looking for someone, she travels with a middle-aged man; tall and muscular. The girl would be quite short comparatively and beautiful.” Her voice was soft, very warming and gentle.
“Lots of people come through here in a day ma’am, don’t think I’ve seen any pair with that description yet.” The bartender kept his hands on the counter, keeping his gaze earnestly on the dark patron.
A moment of silence between the two before she lifted her head slightly and smiled at him, her beautiful and gentle face made him smile slightly.
“Thank you, keeper.” The cloaked stranger tilted her head
back down and slightly to the side like she was trying to listen to something in background.
With a graceful pivot, barely shifting her cloak in the movements, the cloaked woman glided her way through what was left of the rowdy crowd, almost being struck by a flying mug, and out into the darkness of the night.
“Who was that father?” The innkeeper’s daughter stepped out from the back room.
“No idea, but she will likely be back. Kiris, head over to the garrison and give the captain this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and one of the silver coins Dominic gave him.
“It’s late father.” With a roll of her eyes in protest, she reluctantly grabbed the delivery package.
“Be fast Kiris.” The innkeeper grabbed the mug in front of him and started to clean it, keeping his eyes on the tavern door. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter 8
A soft knock at the door jerked Dominic’s eyes open in panic. It was too late for a regular patron to be sober enough to be looking for a room. Another knock. It was not loud, as if they were trying to hide the fact they were knocking. The darkness of the room merged under the door with the lights on the other side being minimal, maybe a single candle in the hall was lit. Another knock. Dominic slowly stood, the blanket dropping to the floor, his curiosity was spurred. Another knock. Making his way over to the door slowly, he clenched his fist, ready to strike.
“Open the door.” The keepers voice softly whispered through the verge.
Opening it a sliver to peer through, he kept his weight against the edge to bar any advance through and gave the keeper a questioning glare.
“Please. Let me in.” His voice was urgent as he kept glancing down the hall to the main tavern area. “Quick.”
Dominic opened the door as quiet as he could and the innkeeper slipped past him, trying not to make a sound. Taking only a couple steps into the room, he pushed the door closed behind him and caught it before it could slam and clicked it into place softly. The keeper was carrying a small satchel and a worried expression, Dominic knew something was wrong.
“Take this.” He handed over the satchel. “It will be a couple days’ rations and some better clothing. You need to leave, now.”
“What wrong?” Dominic took the bag.
“A couple of hours ago, a woman stopped in looking for the young lady and yourself.” His gaze shifted toward Chyla, who was still asleep and curdled under the blankets.
“What did she look like?” Dominic watched the shadows dance across his face from the candle he held.
“I couldn’t see her face; she was wearing a heavy cloak that covered everything.”
“You couldn’t see anything, any markings, any features?” Dominic’s face went white at the keeper’s short description with something pulling at the back of his mind.
“Maybe a pale face, she had coloured lips and was tall, maybe taller than you.” The innkeeper watched Dominic’s expression through the dim light.
“You did the right thing to let me know. Are there any more patrons down in the tavern?” Dominic looked through the bag and shuffled the contents around inside.
“Maybe one or two.”
“A back entrance?” Dominic stepped back and grabbed Chyla’s foot and shook it to wake her up.
“Wha? It’s the middle of the night.” Chyla rubbed her eyes and groggily voiced her disapproval.
“There is a back stair down the hall that leads into the lane, you should be able to get to the next street over pretty quick from there. The garrison is not far.” The innkeeper turned his head to the door as if he heard noises beyond and then back to Chyla. “You might want to cover up miss.”
Chyla had sat up in the bed, exposing her breasts to the cool night air.
“What the hell is going on Dom?”
“We need to leave, now. Get dressed.” Dominic tossed her baggy clothes that had been pushed off the bed.
“Can’t we leave in the morning, like regular people?” She grabbed her shirt and slid it over her head.
“This can’t wait, hurry. It’s not safe anymore.” Dominic was rushing around the room to gather their other backpack and pulled on his own shirt.
“Please take this as well.” The innkeeper pulled a small blade from behind him and held it in an outstretched hand. It was barely a dagger, more of a kitchen knife than anything.
“We won’t need that; you may need something to protect yourself if she comes back. These people are not to be taken lightly.”
“What people?” Chyla sat with her legs spread on the covers as she was trying to grab her leggings.
“Dangerous people.” His tone was enough for her to sober up, she knew he meant it.
With more effort than her shirt, she pulled on her pants and tightened the drawstring. Sliding to the edge of the bed, scanning for her footwear and found them tucked under the bed. Dominic had already put everything together in one pack and tossed the new one over to Chyla, almost hitting her with it.
“That one has rations and a new set of clothes for you. Thank you, keeper. Stay safe.” Dominic made sure his own pack was secure over his shoulder and checked to see if Chyla was ready.
“Who is this woman that was looking for you?” The innkeeper questioned.
“She is from a tribe far off the south coast, a village of Lamia who typically don’t leave their island.”
“What’s a Lamia?” The innkeeper whispered his curiosity.
“Without going into a lot of detail? Blood drinking witches.” Dominic checked to see if Chyla was ready again and headed for the door.
“The stair is down the hall; I have darkened your path down the hall, just in case.” The innkeeper pulled the door open, exposing the darkened corridor.
Silence engaged the night air again; the feeling of death had been welcomed to the building. The darkness of the corridor embraced them save for a single small flame, dancing in the black of the hallway near the railing to the tavern, waving at them like the coast was clear.
“If she shows up again, I will try and delay her.” The innkeeper whispered.
“If you value your family and your life, do not.” Dominic sternly responded and pulled Chyla through the doorway. “Thank you again.”
The further they got down the corridor, the darker it became. There were no windows to let the moonlight in and with the innkeeper extinguishing all the other candles in the hallway, it was difficult to see. A small extension to the main hallway sent them toward the stairwell that the innkeeper mentioned. Dominic crept through dark with Chyla in tow, double checking behind them for any movement, any noise of threat, any reason to stop being quiet.
The innkeepers voice carried through the black, the Lamia had found him at the bottom of the stairs in the tavern. No clear words could be heard in their conversation, but it was obvious he was trying to buy them time. With a slight pull on her clothing to speed her up, they descended the stairs down to a small landing with a door which had been propped open slightly with a stone.
“Into the lane and head north.” Dominic turned his attention to the top of the stair as he opened the door and ushered Chyla through.
The alley was bright with all the lanterns hung outside the odd door frame to shops or homes. The odd pile of trash or broken object could be seen pushed off to the side of the cobbled ground. A drunken man further down the lane stood under a light, throwing up his evening indulgence. Dominic pointed in the other direction towards a better lit street that the rest of the city could be seen beyond.
“North until the bridge, then we zig zag our way out of the city. This damn place has no good straight way out of it.” Dominic spoke under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear.
“I don’t think that is what they were thinking when they built a city on a lake.” Chyla shook her head and started off in the direction he pointed.
Sounds of death and destruction erupted into the night air, from the doorway leading back into the
inn. The Lamia had made her way to their room and in her frustration, trashed what she could. The night came alive with the calamity; dogs barking, lights began to appear in the odd window and the people walking around, stopped to speculate what the disturbance was.
“We need to hurry; they will be on our heels before we know it.”
“You keep saying they, I thought he said it was one woman?” Chyla spoke a little louder, trying to get her voice to catch up to his pace.
“Lamia never come with just one. There will be five.”
Their pace quickened even more as they sped along the streets. Well-lit roads were lined with a stone railing that could be seen all over the city, keeping the lake from billowing into the homes. Bridges spanned all over, connecting platform to platform with lanterns on plinths, lighting the connection. The odd resident holding a lantern or torch, or shop or home held their own fire that made the city live at the late hour. Nearby soldiers patrolling the streets that heard the destruction in the inn had started to make their way closer, calling back to inform others.
Dominic and Chyla skirted here and there, around people and guards; the city was busy for being later in the night. Their path was far from the straight line they wished for. Crossing bridges and ducking into alley’s, things slowed down slightly with having to constantly double back to get onto the next platform. The odd time that she checked behind them, Chyla could not make out anyone out of the ordinary or suspicious in their pursuit.
“Hold up you two.” An old man’s voice called over a small gathering of people who were standing next to the lakes edge.
Dominic slowed slightly to check the familiar voice and where the request came from. An older looking guard was leaning against one of the light posts at the bottom of the last bridge the crossed. His uniform was obviously of a high-ranking officer; medals across his shoulder belt that glinted in the lamp light. A clean red hat with a small emblem of a bridge over water; the city crest.
“Roden!” Dominic skidded to a halt when he realized who called out to them. Chyla bumped into him and caught herself before falling backwards to the ground.
Age of Souls Page 13
