The Beggar's Wrath

by J B Drake

“Wait, isn’t that…” he began, but again, his voice died within his throat. This time, however, he raised his gaze to his friend.

  “What?” Thane asked after a spell.

  But Eldred didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at Thane, his eyes boring into Thane. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the pair as Eldred’s piercing gaze held Thane square, his eyes searching, seeking…something.

  “What?” Thane demanded once the silence became unbearable.

  But still Eldred didn’t answer. Then at last, his gaze softened, but as it did so, a sadness shadowed his face, one akin to a broken heart.

  “What?” Thane asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Thane, I need to ask you something,” Eldred said at last, “and I need you to answer me truly.”

  “Look, this isn’t—”

  “Please, Thane, please. Answer me truly. Did you woo her, or did she woo you?”

  Eldred’s voice was soft, and of a tone Thane had never heard from him before, a tone that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall. It was a tone that told him truly, Eldred knew his heart, but while a part of him sorely wished to unburden all before his friend, Thane resisted. And standing tall, he kept his peace.

  “You asked me that question when Thalas first suspected I care for Arenya,” Eldred said when no answer was forthcoming. “You said those words to me, Thane, and so I say them to you now. Did you woo her, or did she woo you?”

  Still, Thane resisted. But as he resisted, Eldred’s eyes bore into him once more, until at last he lowered his head and sat back upon his bed.

  “I know the song your heart is singing, Thane,” Eldred said as Thane sat. “And I know the words your head is whispering. I know the battle within you, with your conscience.”

  Upon hearing that one word, Thane stared at Eldred, and for a moment, his pain was plain for his friend to see.

  Eldred nodded. “I know, Thane, I’ve been there, I’ve felt it too.”

  Once more, Thane felt the almost overwhelmed desire to unburden himself to his friend. But once more, he resisted, gritting his teeth as he stared at his bed once more.

  “I wish I could tell you to listen to your heart,” Eldred continued. “I truly do. I wish I could tell you to go and make her yours like I made Arenya mine. But you can’t, Thane, not this one. She has to die.”

  Abruptly, Thane looked up at Eldred as if his friend had slapped him across the face.

  Eldred shook his head. “You cannot be with her.”

  “But you can be with Arenya,” Thane spat.

  A sad smile parted Eldred’s lips briefly. “Thane, you can’t save her. None of us can. Netari Fairshroud wishes her dead, and that is a woman who will think nothing of destroying you and your family, should you bar her way.”

  Thane gritted his teeth as an open snarl twisted his lips, but he held his peace.

  “And let’s not forget the money,” Eldred continued.

  “Of course!” Thane scoffed. “We mustn’t forget that!”

  “Five hundred gold is a lot of money, Thane,” Eldred continued. “It’s the kind of money Thalas and Neremi have been searching for for a long time. If you try and save this girl, you will make enemies of them both.”

  “And what of you?” Thane snarled. “Will I make an enemy of you too?”

  Eldred’s smile returned. “I, too, have need of that money, I won’t lie, so…yes, you will.”

  “Nice to know who my friends are,” Thane growled as he turned his back to Eldred.

  Eldred sighed as his smile grew. “Were I not your friend, Thane, I wouldn’t be giving you this advice.”

  “Advice?” Thane asked. “Or threat?”

  Eldred shook his head. “Call it what you will, but it is the truth.”

  Then, he rose. “You deserve happiness just as much as the next man. You deserve to love and be loved. But not by her, Thane. Not by her.”

  The silence returned, this time weighing upon both friends like an icy blanket. Then, with no words left to say, Eldred turned and headed for the door.

  “Will you tell the others?” Thane asked as Eldred reached for the handle.

  Stopping, Eldred turned to his friend. “Do I need to?”

  Thane stared at his friend. Though his response was not immediate, it did at last come.

  “No.”

  Nodding, Eldred opened the door and left, the sound of the closing door echoing loudly in Thane’s mind.

  *****

  Sighing, Marshalla rested an elbow on her raised knee as she gazed upon the outer walls of the Shimmering Tower, the tree she rested upon granting her ample cover from the evening sun. With the soft grass beneath her, and the songs of the birds about her, Marshalla soon found herself staving off sleep. It was peaceful there, within the woods, and the more she came the more she found herself thanking Amala for suggesting it. Even though she’d ridden countless coaches through the woods to Merethia and back, she’d never once thought to walk into the woods and simply…sit. Though she was not the only one to have thought of it on this day.

  Stifling a yawn, Marshalla tore her gaze from the Tower to stare at the cloister of students in the distance, their laughter drawing her gaze. Just then, a rustling came from behind her, and just as she was about to turn, a black feline sauntered out of the trees.

  “Ah, run yourself tired already?” Marshalla asked as she turned to stare at the panther square. It was then she noticed the creature in the panther’s maw.

  “What you got there, then?” she said, leaning towards the panther as it stopped by her. It was then she realised the creature yet lived

  “Gray!” she exclaimed. “How many times got to tell you. Don’t play with them like that. If you going to eat them, eat them. Don’t make them suffer like that!”

  In response, Gray growled at her mistress as she backed away from Marshalla’s hand.

  “Don’t use that tone with me, girl!” Marshalla warned. “Now, come here.”

  But Gray was having none of it, and instead simply bounded away, turning to race towards the Tower.

  “Gray!” Marshalla yelled as she leapt to her feet, but it was too late, the precocious panther already disappearing from sight.

  “That girl,” Marshalla sighed.

  “She is what she is,” came a voice from behind her.

  Yelping, Marshalla spun around, her gaze falling upon a familiar shadow in the trees.

  “Stop doing that!” she exclaimed.

  Her words were met with laughter.

  “No, seriously, stop doing that!” she snarled as she glared at the shadow. “Why you always sneaking up on people like that?”

  “Because I enjoy watching them scream and jump,” Drake replied.

  “Not funny, Drake,” Marshalla growled as she sat back down. “Not funny.”

  “It looked pretty funny to me.”

  “Well, it’s not!” Marshalla snapped. With a deep frown, she stared at the panther in the distance. She was still playing with her prey.

  “How is she, anyway?” Drake asked.

  He was close now, on the other side of her tree. And she never even heard him. It was a thought that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand ramrod straight. Forcing her thoughts where her gaze lay, she wiped her hands on her trousers.

  “She’s…” Marshalla began. “Gods, she’s getting worse, Drake. Don’t know what to do with her anymore. She fights anything now, doesn’t matter how big.”

  “The scent bracelet’s not helping?”

  Marshalla shook her head. “It’s useless now. Only thing that helps is bringing her out here, let her run wild some. Calms her down for a few days.”

  “Did you enchant it properly? If it’s not properly enchanted it won’t carry your scent.”

  Rolling her eyes, Marshalla turned to glare at the tree. “Not stupid, Drake. Did just what you showed me.”

  “I’m not calling you stupid, my girl,” Drake replied. “But the last one’s different to the othe
rs, takes more to enchant it and—”

  “The bloody bracelet’s working fine, okay? She just pulls it off moment my back’s turned.”

  “Hrm,” Drake replied. “That is a problem.”

  “Yeah,” Marshalla sighed. “Big one, too.”

  Shaking her head, Marshalla turned to her panther once more. “You keep saying she’ll grow out of it. When?”

  Drake sighed. “It seems what happened to her has left a deeper scar than I’d thought. But we’ll find a way, my girl, we’ll find a way. It’ll just take a little longer than planned.

  “Bloody hells,” Marshalla muttered.

  “Are those the kind of words they teach in the Tower these days?”

  “Oh, shut up, you.”

  Drake chuckled, but did as she’d bid. For a spell at least.

  “So, how fares your task?” he asked at last.

  Taking a deep breath, Marshalla let it out slowly.

  “It’s done,” she said at last, her voice soft and anguished. “Thane’s mine now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh for gods’—”

  “I don’t mean to doubt you, Marsha, but with what’s at stake, we need—”

  “He brought me flowers yesterday, damn it! The bloody fool stayed behind without me asking and helped muck out three whole stables, and didn’t complain once! What you think?”

  “Ah…” Drake replied.

  “Yes!” Marshalla snarled, before sighing once more.

  “Never took you for the flowers type.”

  Marshalla shook her head. “Not. Gave them to Anise to mix in the unicorn feed.”

  “And Thane knew?”

  This time, Marshalla nodded. “It was his bloody idea. Tried to give them back to him but he wouldn’t take them. Then he said unicorns like eating them. So gave them to Anise.”

  “Well,” Drake replied, “you have more than proven yourself on this one. With that boy’s reputation, I—”

  “Don’t like doing this, Drake,” Marshalla interjected, shaking her head. “Don’t like playing with people like this. Even if it’s them.”

  “We don’t always get to do what we like, my girl,” Drake replied, the sadness in Marshalla’s voice echoing in his. “Sometimes we do what we must.”

  Staring at the Tower walls once more, Marshalla nodded. “Yeah, we do.”

  Then, she stared at the tree once more.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Now,” Drake sighed. “I report back to our glorious leader of your success and await his next command.”

  “How long got to string him along for?” Marshalla frowned.

  “Ah,” Drake replied. “I don’t think Mardaley’s thought his plan through that far yet—”

  “You what?” Marshalla snarled. “Not going to keep playing this forever, Drake!”

  “And I don’t think you’ll have to. If they haven’t done anything by Baern’s return, they never will.”

  Marshalla glared at the tree a spell.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “This is the best time they’ll ever have to hurt Tip. If they don’t use it, we’ve greatly over-estimated them.”

  Marshalla glared at the tree a spell longer, but at last rested back upon it.

  “Will you be visiting them later?” Drake asked.

  Marshalla frowned. “Who, Thane?”

  “No, Mardaley.”

  “Oh. No, can’t. Tomorrow, maybe.”

  “Why?”

  Marshalla sighed. “Two of our wyverns looking to start a family. Anise wants me to care for them, so got to stay late to get their nest ready. They got to see me put it together.”

  “Ah.”

  Marshalla frowned. There was an undercurrent to Drake’s single utterance. What it was, she couldn’t say.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Well, Mardaley may have failed to convince Tip, but perhaps you can.”

  Marshalla smiled as she shook her head. “Already tried, Tip and Maline both. The way those two saved Maline from Fargus, they got their hooks into Tip good now. Maline too.”

  “Your friends trust too easily.”

  Marshalla laughed. “Tell me about it.”

  A calm silence fell upon the pair as Marshalla watched Gray chase butterflies like she had nary a care in the world.

  “I’d best get going,” Drake said as a rustling reached Marshalla’s ears. “Leaving you a present here.”

  “What is it?” Marshalla asked as she turned to stare at the tree once more.

  “Undergarments,” Drake replied. “From Mardaley.”

  Marshalla shook her head. “Already got enough of those.”

  “Not like these ones.”

  Marshalla frowned. “What’s so special about them?”

  “They’re almost as special as those clothings Mardaley had made for you and Tip.”

  “Oh!”

  “Yes. There are three pairs in here. Don’t ask me why three, but three there are. They will not offer the same level of protection as your old clothings, but they’ll do, I think.”

  Marshalla smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank Mardaley.”

  Marshalla’s smile widened. “Okay, will thank Mardaley, then.”

  “Good. We’ll talk more about Gray once I’ve got time to think.”

  Marshalla nodded. “Okay. Say hi to Kasha for me.”

  But there was no response.

  Marshalla frowned. “Drake?”

  No response still.

  Rising, her frown deepening, Marshalla rounded the tree. There was no Drake.

  “Bloody hate it when he does that,” she snarled, and, sighing, picked up the bundle resting upon the tree before returning to her spot in the shade.

  And upon her spot she remained, her thoughts shifting from Drake’s words to Thane and his visits, and then to Tip, the innocent boy at the centre of it all, until at last, Gray returned to her mistress, her demeanour one of simple contentment.

  “You all tired out now, then?” Marshalla asked the panther as she smiled.

  In response, young Gray sat before her mistress, panting quietly.

  Grinning, Marshalla stared up at the sun.

  “Hrm,” she muttered, her smile fading as she rose. “Best get you back. Come on.”

  Picking up Drake’s parting gift, Marshalla made for the Tower gates, and from there home, her dear Gray falling in step beside her.

  The pair walked on in silence, oblivious to the glances and the mutters. Even Gray was used to them now, her hackles no longer rising with each new voice. Nor was she staring at the sea of faces anymore, her gaze forward just like her mistress. Before long, they were home.

  “Took your time today,” Amala called out as Marshalla opened the door.

  Smiling, Marshalla shrugged. “Nice outside today.”

  “Yes, it is rather,” Amala replied.

  Nodding, Marshalla locked the door behind her before heading to the seating area, Gray already on her way to her bed.

  “You look rested,” Amala said as she came into view. Sat curled up upon the large sofa, she stared smiling at Marshalla as a book lay upon her lap.

  Her smile widening, Marshalla nodded as she sat in a nearby chair. “Yeah. Need to do that more often.”

  As Amala moved to speak, however, her gaze fell upon the bundle in Marshalla’s hand.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Marshalla looked down at the bundle.

  “Oh,” she replied before looking up at Amala. “Present from Mardaley.”

  “What is it?”

  “Undergarments.”

  Amala arched a regal eyebrow at this. “Undergarments…?”

  Frowning, Marshalla moved to speak, to question the tone in Amala’s voice. But as she did so, her own words echoed in her mind.

  “Not what you thinking!” she exclaimed instead.

  “Mhm,” Amala replied. “Far be it for me to judge your friends, but that Ma
rdaley is the strangest of the lot, by a long way.”

  “Oh, like you never had a man buy you things,” Marshalla retorted.

  “Never one that old,” Amala replied, nodding sagely. “And never something as personal as undergarments.”

  “So your grandfather never bought you nothing?”

  “No,” Amala replied, shaking her head briefly before quickly dropping her gaze to the book upon her lap. But she was not quick enough to stop Marshalla seeing the anguish within her eyes, nor was her smile wide enough to mask her pain. Marshalla stared at her for a spell, unsure what to say, the guilt she now felt boring into her.

  Then, there was a knock at the door. As one, both girls stared at the door before staring at each other.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Amala asked, frowning.

  Marshalla shook her head. “No. You?”

  Amala, too, shook her head.

  The knock came again, this time more urgent. With her frown growing, Marshalla headed for the door. As she went, she noticed Gray was in the seating area.

  “Bed!” she gestured as she reached the door. But Gray merely sat where she was, her gaze upon her mistress. Shaking her head, Marshalla opened the door.

  “What you doing here?” she exclaimed as she stared at a grinning Thane.

  “Good evening to you too,” Thane replied.

  Marshalla crossed her arms under her bosom. “What you doing here, Thane?”

  “Well,” Thane replied, “I thought you might be interested in hearing that the Lamplight Fayre is back!”

  A brief silence fell upon the pair as Marshalla held the grinning elf with a blank stare.

  “The what, now?” she asked after a spell.

  “The Lamplight Fayre!” Thane exclaimed in disbelief. “They come round every year! They’re the best fayre for miles and miles, Marsha, believe me, and they’re setting store just outside Merethia right now!”

  “Outside Merethia?”

  Thane nodded. “Yes, setting store this very moment. And, well…Eldred and I were thinking, what better way to introduce you to Thalas and Neremi than at the Fayre!”

  “Thane…”

  “No, truly Marsha, you will love it! And they will love you. Once they see you and Tip the way Eldred and I see you, they will come to like you as we have.”

  There was an earnestness in his words, an eagerness that was unmistakable. But there was something else. What it was, Marshalla couldn’t say, but it was there in his gaze, it was there in his tone, and it was there in the simple gestures of his hands. And it made her feel ill at ease.