The Beggar's Wrath

by J B Drake

  “Yes,” Eldred replied, nodding, “regret. That creature claimed Durlin right in front of us, yet we blamed Tip for it. When everyone turned on him, when only Magister Meadowview stood behind him, we laughed and derided the Magister for his stupidity. Then, earlier today, when Thane and I reminisced about the past, we realised one thing; Tip is going through the same hardships we went through, and through no fault of his own. And we’re partly to blame. It was a shameful thought, but it made us see what we had to do. So, we came looking for Tip the first moment we could.”

  “So, what, he supposed to forget what you used to called him?” Maline snarled. “Because you feel sorry for yourselves?”

  “No,” Eldred shook his head, “One can never forget something like that so easily. But I would hope he’ll allow us prove our words.”

  Tip stared at the pair, unsure what to make of Eldred’s words.

  “What you think, Ani?” he thought after a spell.

  “They’re noble words, Tip. It would be quite something were they true.”

  “Think he’s lying?”

  “I…well, I’m struggling to believe him, if I’m honest.”

  “But maybe it’s like you said. Maybe they starting to like me now”

  “Perhaps, yes. What will you do?”

  Tip stared hard at Eldred, his heart screaming one answer, but his mind whispering another.

  “Going to believe them, Ani,” he said at last.

  “Then, I shall trust them too.”

  Smiling, Tip looked at Eldred. “We got to make some deliveries, then we heading back to the Tower.”

  Eldred smiled. “And we shall accompany you.”

  Setting The Bait

  With the last of her strength, Marshalla closed the door behind her and dropped her belongings where she stood. Resting against the door, she stared at the heavens as a deep sigh escaped her lips. As she stared, she saw in her mind’s eye the events of the day, events at the Summoner Pens, and as she stared, she smiled.

  “That good, was it?”

  Startled, Marshalla stared towards where the voice had come, and leaning against the main pillar in their home was her room-mate, the light in the room giving her long silvery hair an almost divine shimmer as it hung braided across her shoulders.

  With a sheepish grin, Marshalla pulled herself to standing.

  “Hey, Amala.”

  With both seeming of similar age, the pair had become firm friends almost from the moment they’d been paired. It was as if some higher power in the Tower had seen the nature of the two and had known they would bond quickly.

  “Hello to you too.”

  Smiling, Marshalla stooped to pick up her belongings, then she realised something.

  “You not walking Gray today?” she asked as she looked about for her beloved panther. The moment she saw the frown upon Amala’s lips, though, Marshalla sighed.

  “What did she do this time?”

  Crossing her arms about her, Amala wandered over to Marshalla.

  “How bad was it?” Marshalla asked, her worry plain. “The scent bracelet failed again?”

  Pursing her lips, Amala nodded.

  “Damn it!”

  Patting Marshalla on the shoulder, Amala picked up her room-mate’s belongings and headed towards Marshalla’s bed chamber.

  “Where did she go this time?”

  “The hound pens,” Amala replied. “I have no idea how she got past the wards at the entrance, or even how she managed to open the gate, but by the time any of us realised what was happening, five of the hounds had attacked her.”

  Marshalla winced. “How bad?”

  Amala stopped and turned to stare at Marshalla, smiling. “She didn’t kill any, thankfully. After what she did to Archmage Penwood’s gelding, another killing’s the last thing we need. But I will not lie, there was a lot of blood in those pens by the time we reached it.”

  “Gods…is she okay?”

  Amala nodded. “A few cuts and scrapes, but she’s fine. I think she got more wounds from us trying to get her out than from the hounds. The good news, though, is I’ve been granted leave to have her stay with us for the rest of the week. We can’t leave her here alone, of course, but still, it’s better than having her roaming the stables.”

  Sighing, Marshalla nodded. “Suppose, yeah.”

  Amala grinned. “And if she behaves, it may become a permanent arrangement! I left her sleeping by your bed.”

  Marshalla shook her head as she rested against the door once more. “What we going to do?”

  Sighing, Amala turned to stare at her room-mate square.

  “Perhaps you can talk to Anise again,” she offered. “If she can follow you into the Pens, this whole conundrum would be solved.”

  Marshalla shook her head. “Got bit twice today. If Gray saw that, she’d go mental.”

  Sighing, Amala nodded. “Yes, she would, bless her.”

  Marshalla stared at her bedroom door. “Don’t know what to do here.”

  “Well, first,” Amala replied, “you are going to have a bath, and then have something to eat. Preferably in that order this time.”

  Marshalla stared at Amala and pulled a face.

  “And then…I don’t know. But I will tell you this, if she goes on a rampage around here, well…”

  Marshalla closed her eyes as she shook her head, then stared at Amala once more.

  “She wasn’t always like this, you know.”

  Amala nodded. “I know, you keep telling me.”

  With a deep sigh, Marshalla turned to stare at her bedroom door once more. “They keep telling me ‘She’ll get over it, she’ll get over it’. When?”

  Taking a step forward, Amala placed a comforting hand on Marshalla’s shoulder. “No point fretting over it now, we’ll work something out. Go bathe and eat. We’ll talk more afterwards.”

  Frowning, Marshalla did as she was bid, but as she reached the central pillar an excited knock came at the door. Stopping, she turned to the door, but before she could speak, Amala sighed behind her.

  “It’s probably for me,” she said as she dropped Marshalla’s belongings and headed for the door.

  “Oh?”

  Amala nodded as she reached the door. “I left the stables in a hurry, to get Gray home. Left a few things behind.”

  “Oh,” Marshalla replied as she turned to head to her room.

  As Amala opened the door, however, both she and Marshalla quickly realised she was wrong.

  “Oh, hello there,” Amala said as she gazed through the open doorway.

  “Ah…hi, Amala.”

  It was Maline’s voice, and as Marshalla heard it, she spun round and hurried to the door.

  “Uhm…Marsha around?” Maline asked just as Marshalla reached the door. Turning, Amala stared at Marshalla, arching an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” Marshalla mouthed.

  In response, Amala pursed her lips before spinning round and heading for Marshalla’s bedchamber, picking up Marshalla’s things as she went.

  Shaking her head, Marshalla stepped into the doorway.

  “Really, Mal—oh.”

  Maline was not alone.

  “Hi, Marsha!” Tip exclaimed, beaming as he always did.

  “Greetings,” Eldred added as Thane nodded, both smiling at her.

  Marshalla stared in silence at Eldred and Thane for a spell before turning her attention back to Maline.

  “You got to stop acting like Amala’s a demon spawn.”

  “Hey!” Maline exclaimed. “Well, how you know she’s not?”

  “Maline!” Marshalla cried as she chanced a glance behind her.

  “Not natural, Marsha, having silver eyes like that. Not natural!”

  “Not natural, nonsense!” Marshalla cried. “She was born like that! Told you! Many times!”

  “Yeah, because she told you,” Maline replied. “But how you know she not lying, eh?”

  “Hey!”

  “In Maline’s defence,” Eldred sp
oke up, “her eyes did unnerve me first time I met her. The only creatures I know with eyes like hers are vampires.”

  “Vampires?” Maline and Tip exclaimed in unison.

  “Oh gods,” Marshalla muttered as she stared with quite some pain at Eldred.

  “Mhm,” Eldred replied, nodding as he stared at Maline, completely oblivious to Marshalla’s glare.

  “How many vampires you know work outside in broad daylight?” Marshalla demanded.

  “Vampire day-walkers aren’t entirely unheard of,” Eldred replied, turning to Marshalla as he spoke. “Rare, I grant you, but not unheard of.”

  “Really?” Marshalla asked, crossing her arms. “And you think Tower’s going to let a blood-sucking monster live here? In this place? With so many people?”

  “Well—” began Eldred, only for Thane to place a hand on his shoulder.

  “We mean no offence.”

  “Oh, right, yes,” Eldred added, a sheepish smile upon his lips. “Apologies.”

  “Mhm,” Marshalla replied. Then, a thought struck her. “Why you here?”

  “They my friends now!” Tip exclaimed, grinning.

  “You what?”

  “Maybe we should come in,” Maline offered. “We got a lot you got to hear.”

  “All of you?” Marshalla asked, staring at Eldred and Thane.

  “Please, Marsha.”

  Sighing, Marshalla turned and headed in, the others following her in, with Thane closing the door behind them.

  “Go on, then,” Marshalla said as she led them to the sitting room, “sit.”

  “Amala not walking Gray today?” Tip asked as he hurried to his favoured seat.

  Marshalla shook her head. “Gray’s sleeping in my room.”

  “Did she kill something again?” Tip asked, his worry plain as he sat.

  Before Marshalla could reply, however, a loud huff reached their ears, and as one, all turned to stare at its source, which happened to be the young panther herself, making her way towards them, or rather, towards Tip.

  “Hey, Gray!” Tip exclaimed, grinning.

  But Eldred was not grinning, and neither was Thane. Both stared at the large cat as if it were some advancing calamity.

  “Oh, Gray,” Marshalla sighed as she wandered over to the cat. “What you doing out of bed?”

  In response, the cat stared from her mistress to first Eldred, then Thane, then sat where she was, her gaze now taking both in at once.

  “Not now, Gray, okay?” Marshalla said as she rubbed the cat’s neck. “They not hurting anyone. Come on, back to bed with you.”

  At first, the cat resisted, but in the end, she did as her mistress bid, and, turning, followed Marshalla to her room. Once out of sight, Eldred breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thank the gods for that,” he muttered.

  “What?” Maline said, a smirk upon her lips. “You afraid of Gray?”

  Shaking his head, Eldred turned to stare at her square.

  “No, of course not!” he exclaimed. “But there’s no harm in being on your guard around a creature like that.”

  “Panther,” Maline corrected, “not creature.”

  Eldred scoffed at this. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d seen what she’d done to some of the animals in the stables. That thing’s a menace, I tell you. It’s a wonder she hasn’t ripped Marshalla’s throat open.”

  “Hey!” Maline exclaimed.

  “Perhaps we’d best change the subject,” Thane offered.

  Eldred shrugged. “Fine by me. But you mark me, all of you. That thing’s a menace.”

  Through it all, Tip stared at Eldred as he bit his lower lip, and as Maline moved to rebuke the Mage Adept, Tip finally spoke.

  “Not her fault she like this,” he said.

  “Well, of course it’s not her fault,” Eldred replied, his voice softening as he spoke. “She is an animal after all, and—“

  Tip shook his head. “No, not that. Drake says it’s because she’s sad.”

  “Sad?” Eldred exclaimed.

  With a sadness of his own, Tip nodded. “She watched her brothers die. Drake says she’s sad that she didn’t die with them. And she’s sad because she didn’t stop the Tower people taking Marsha. Drake says that’s what’s making her go mental.”

  “I see…” was all that Eldred could manage.

  A heavy silence fell upon all as they stared at Marshalla’s door. But, for a mercy, it was brief, for soon Marshalla reappeared.

  “Right, then,” she sighed as she walked towards them. “What’s happened?”

  “Well,” Maline began. “Fargus is back.”

  “What?” Marshalla exclaimed.

  “Tried to take Maline,” Tip muttered.

  “What you mean, take Maline? Can’t take a person.”

  “Tell that to Fargus,” Maline glowered.

  “That bastard…”

  “Marsha, language! You got guests!”

  “Oh, it’s quite alright, Maline,” Thane said, leaning against the entrance. “We use far more colourful language ourselves.”

  “Still, she moving up in the world,” Maline sniffed at Thane before staring at Marshalla once more. “She needs to act better.”

  “Sod all that,” Marshalla snarled, “where’s he now?”

  “Marsha!”

  “Where is he, Maline?”

  “Thane chased him away,” Tip said, grinning.

  “What?” Marshalla said as she stared at Thane once more.

  Thane smiled and shrugged. “Much as I’d love to take all the credit, it was a joint effort.”

  “What you mean?”

  “Well, we came across your two friends, with this Fargus holding a blade to Maline’s throat.”

  “Wh—” Marshalla began, turning to stare at Maline.

  But Maline shook her head. “It’s okay, it’s fine. He didn’t cut.”

  “Yes,” Thane replied. “And that’s all thanks to Eldred over there. His marksmanship with a lightning bolt came in handy today, knocked the blade away from Maline’s throat and gave her the chance to get away from him.”

  With a deep frown, Marshalla turned to Eldred, her gaze hardening.

  “Thank you,” she said at last.

  Smiling, Eldred nodded in response.

  “Tell her the rest!” Tip exclaimed.

  Thane stared at Tip with a coy smile upon his lips before turning to Marshalla once more.

  “Well, after that, I chased him away.”

  “No you never!” Tip cried before facing Marshalla himself. “He cast this spell thing, then whoosh! Smashed into Fargus with his hand! Only his hand wasn’t his hand, it was this fire thing with bits of black stuff in it, and…obdisian, yeah, obdisian! No, obsidian! Then—”

  “Obsidian Fists,” Amala said from behind Marshalla.

  As one, they all stared as Amala made her way towards Thane from the entrance at the other end of the room.

  “They’re teaching that to Mage Adepts now?”

  “I taught myself, as a matter of fact.” Thane replied, and though his voice was calm, his tone was not.

  “Impressive,” Amala replied as she reached him, seemingly oblivious to his barb. Tearing her gaze from him, Amala stared at the others.

  “Oh, don’t mind me, I just need to head back to the stables.”

  Then, as she turned to walk past Thane, she stopped and stared straight at Marshalla.

  “Don’t forget to cover your neck up when you got to bed tonight, alright? Who knows how thirsty I shall be when I return.”

  Shaking her head, Marshalla raised a hand to her face, closing her eyes as she did so just as Maline began to turn beetroot-red. None spoke till the front door was slammed shut.

  “Then, what happened?” Marshalla sighed.

  “Uh,” Tip continued. “Fargus fell down and started crying. Then Thane went over and said…and said…uhm…”

  “He said if Fargus hurts us again,” Maline said, coming to Tip’s rescue, “he’
ll end him.”

  “Yeah!”

  Frowning, Marshalla looked at Thane.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why you care?”

  Thane grinned. “Maline asked us the same thing. The reason is simple, we treated you and Tip cruelly, and now we’d like to make amends.”

  Marshalla stared at him for a spell.

  “Don’t believe you,” she said at last.

  “I’m not expecting you to, not right away anyhow. We’ve been cruel to you for quite some time, and no doubt Davian would’ve kept you abreast of all we’ve said about you in his presence. But we mean well.”

  The silence returned as Marshalla stared at Thane. At last, she shook his head.

  “You a liar. You lot will never care about people like us, don’t even see us as people.”

  Then, she looked at Eldred. “You both lying.”

  “When you and Maline first met, did you trust one another?” Thane asked.

  Stunned, Marshalla looked first at Thane, then at Maline. The two couldn’t hold each other’s gaze.

  “Or did your friendship form over time?”

  Shaking her head, Marshalla turned to glare at Thane. “That’s different.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, you dolt! Maline and me fought for food and things, but she never treated me like shite.”

  “But she earned your trust over time, did she not? And you, hers.”

  Again, Marshalla shook her head. “Was different with Maline and me. We was starving. Can’t compare us to you. You lot pick on Tip and me for fun. No, don’t know what game you lot playing, but not playing.”

  “They helped us, though, Marsha,” Tip pleaded. “They stopped Fargus.”

  Marshalla turned to stare at Tip, her gaze softening as she stared.

  “Nobody else helped us,” the little elven boy muttered.

  Marshalla stared at him in silence for a spell before at last speaking.

  “How you know they didn’t send Fargus?”

  “Marsha!” Maline exclaimed. “That a horrible thing to say!”

  “Well,” Marshalla replied, her tone softening, “how you know?”

  “Two reasons,” Maline seethed. “First, how they know about Fargus and me? Haven’t seen or spoken to Fargus since the day Toriel…since the day Toriel disappeared.”

  A foul ichor ran through Marshalla at the mention of that name, but she kept her composure.