by Arden Ellis
"I have traveled outside of the keep before, ser knight. I assure you, I can look after myself." Preston's voice was mild, but the sentiment was clear. He drew his long staff from his saddle in a firm grim. With a final nod of farewell, he turned to follow the man and child towards the center of town.
"We'll need to resupply," Wright said to her remaining companions. "Once we cross the border, we'll be limited to what we can forage."
Kai nodded, hardly listening. Her eyes scanned the building fronts clustered around the main street with a hungry expression. "Divide and conquer, yes? I'll take care of our provisions and meet you back at the inn."
Before she could spur her horse onwards Wright maneuvered Farstride in her way. "We move on when the sun is four hands from the horizon."
"No inn, then?"
"Be at the gate, or we'll leave you behind."
"As you say, ser." With a mocking flourish and half-bow from the saddle, Kai rode off down the street, undoubtedly to duck into the first establishment that promised a draught of ale. Wright resisted the urge to shout some kind of admonition at her back. Kai was little more than a liability, and Silva—Silva was an outright threat.
When she turned, she found the old sellsword watching her with an eyebrow cocked in askance. "And I?" Silva asked.
"We are going to gather information as to current activity at the border," Wright said. "Your knowledge of the land will be useful."
"Don't you trust me to wander off alone?"
"I don't make it a habit of trusting those who kill for the highest bidder." Wright dismounted and led her horse to a nearby hitching post, Silva following behind. From within a nearby building, the smell of cooking meat and the sound of raucous laughter suggested the kind of inn where information might be exchanged for a coin or a drink. Wright did not drink, or smoke, or enjoy paying bribes—entering such a place set her teeth on edge, but it was a necessary evil.
"I am not your enemy," Silva said mildly as she tossed her horse's reins over the post in a loose knot. "If you truly believe I plan to betray you at the earliest possible instance, I'm uncertain why you agreed to follow me into the perils of Tintagel's domain."
"Because my lord ordered me to," Wright grunted as she finished tightening Farstride's reins to the post. "I may not trust you, but I trust that you will want to collect your fee." Silva only chuckled, the feathers and bones strung in her hair rattling as she tossed it.
By the time they left the smoky air of the tavern a few hours later, Wright was begrudgingly impressed. When she would refuse any offer of a drink or cigarette, Silva obliged and put their potential informants at ease. She knew the terrain well enough to ask the right questions, and afterward could explain the significance of the travelers' answers to Wright. They had learned that the road patrols had slackened off on a road known as the cliff passage, and that a recent resurgence of the curse had swallowed up a village where they might have hoped to steal supplies.
They found Preston at the well, his leather coat removed as he wiped his hands with a cloth. A lump partially covered with a strip of canvas lay nearby, distinctly human. Strips of colorful paper were laid on the stone rim of the well, along with glass tubes and some kind of powder. A small crowd had gathered around him; when he saw Wright coming he broke into a tired smile.
"A false alarm," he said with clear relief. "It appears our unfortunate friend here had collected water from a stream and decided to take one final drink before refilling it. The contaminated sediment had sunk to the bottom of his waterskin. With his final draught, he swallowed it."
A shudder moved down Wright's spine as she glanced at the body. The crowd gave it a wide berth, and Wright immediately saw why. The man lay on his back, eyes gazing sightlessly into the cloudy sky—most everything below his nose was a mess of twisted, melted flesh, his lower jaw melted into his neck and covered in the hardened iridescence of the curse's touch.
Wright looked away. It would have been quick, but not quick enough. The grisly sight seemed to bother Preston not at all; he flicked the cloth over the corpse's face and began packing up his gear. Wright watched him with newfound wariness. Clearly he was more familiar with death than his bookish appearance made him seem.
As Preston hoisted his pack and gripped his staff, Wright realized there was one face in the crowd around them that she had yet to see. "Where is Kai?"
At once, the smile disappeared from Preston's face. "Ah. Yes. I was about to get to that."
Wright's tenuous good mood evaporated faster than the morning mist. A sigh of aggravation hissed past her teeth as she tilted her head back and forced her hand not to settle on her sword. "What is it she's done now?"
Preston led her to a sprawling building near the outskirts of town, its windows shuttered. Its open doorway fluttered with a thin curtain which did nothing to muffle the sound of raucous merriment within. At first she took it for a tavern. A brief inspection showed the customary lace handkerchief nailed to the threshold. Wright ground her teeth as if to crush stone between them.
"Wait here," she snapped at Preston and Silva. The pair exchanged a glance as Wright straightened her shoulders, set her jaw, and strode inside.
A wave of heady perfume nearly swept Wright's legs out from under her as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Lounging on the furniture were figures of every gender and description, wearing the typical linens and leathers of street folk. Those that attended them were dressed much less conservatively. Flashes of skin wreathed in sheer fabric and smoke moved sinuously through the low light. Dozens of eyes watched as Wright stood rigidly inside the doorway. Her plate armor was not exactly inconspicuous. In the back of the room, over the murmur of voices, someone giggled.
"May I help you, ser knight?" The voice was a low purr that crept down the back of Wright's collar, chased by the brush of fingers on her bare nape. A woman dressed in wisps of green godscloth swaying with colored beads stepped into Wright's line of sight, her eyes lined in dark kohl. "I'm Vera. If you've come seeking refreshment, I will be happy to be of service."
Her clothing was very thin. All that was left to the imagination was what the eye had left to wander to. Wright kept her eyes resolutely on a point past Vera's ear.
"I am looking for my compatriot," Wright said stiffly. "I was told she was here."
"Another knight such as yourself? We don't see many here. But we are, of course, happy to entertain."
Vera laid a gentle hand on Wright's armored arm, making to guide her to a chair. Wright took a step back. "My business with her is urgent."
The coins she counted out of her purse presented no small sum. Vera accepted them without a flicker in her smile, counting them in the span of a moment before slipping them into a fold of her garment.. "It will be my pleasure. I'll ensure she's brought down momentarily." She caught the eye of a passing man dressed only in his britches and made a deft gesture towards a curtained doorway near the back of the room. He nodded and ducked out of sight.
"In the meantime," Vera continued, deftly maneuvering Wright into a chair before she could protest, "Allow me to keep you company while you wait. You'll find your generosity well-rewarded in this house."
Unbidden, Wright's eyes flicked to the curve of Vera's hips beneath their veneer of cloth, the way the notch of her waist invited a pair of hands to settle upon it. Her slender fingers rose to Wright's forehead, teasing a strand of Wright's short hair back into place behind her ear. Wright twitched as if the brush of skin were a brand.
"That will not be necessary," she said. Her throat was very dry. "I would prefer to go to her myself."
Vera looked ready to try and convince her, until something in Wright's face stopped her short. After a moment she ran her fingertips down the curve of Wright's breastplate playfully, almost curiously; Wright could practically feel the touch against her skin.
"Very well," Vera said with a slow smile. "This way."
Vera led her behind the curtain, past figures entwined in dark corners that Wright
carefully did not look at. A few rough-hewn stairs led down to a room sunk into the earth, with a pool of water carved from the rocks. From the heavy heat in the air, the spring must have been naturally warmed. Among all the wet bodies lounging in the water, Wright quickly spotted Kai.
She was sitting with her arms slung over the rocks, utterly bare, her full attention fixed on the woman at her side, talking in a low voice as she teased at her companion's hair with damp fingers. They were sitting close enough that the wavering shapes of their bodies seemed to merge together beneath the surface of the water.
"Ser Kai!" Wright's voice rang out sharply over the water and stone. The people in the bath immediately homed in on the object of Wright's glare and gave Kai as wide a berth as possible.
To her credit, Kai did not startle; her eyes flicked to Wright, and she rolled them spectacularly. Turning to the woman beside her, Kai murmured something in her ear which caused her to giggle and slide away; from amid the steam Kai raised her eyebrows. A mocking smile touched her lips.
"Ser Wright," she said, dipping a hand idly into the water. "I can't say I expected to find you here."
"Get out," Wright said. "We're leaving."
At once, Kai stood up. The water which had before settled at the hollow of her throat scarcely covered her waist now. Despite the moisture beading on Wright's skin, her mouth was suddenly bone dry. She pinned her eyes to the middle distance as Kai walked across the pool, stopping at the edge closest to Wright with her face turned upwards, daring Wright to look down. "Am I allowed to get dressed first?"
"I absolutely insist on it." Wright risked a glance at Kai's face. Despite the silkiness of her voice, Kai's expression was dark with anger. Her neck shone wetly in the dim light, and Wright's eyes threatened to slip lower.
She looked away again, her own anger rising in kind. "If you aren't outside in approximately two minutes, I will come back and remove you myself," she snapped.
Kai laughed, baring her teeth. "I think I'd find that rather amusing."
"I would love nothing more than to prove you wrong." Without another word, Wright spun on her heel and stormed out of the bathhouse, leaving a barrage of giggles in her wake and hoping her face did not look as red and hot as it felt.
Outside the air was blessedly cool. Nearby Preston and Silva stood watching her; Preston's face was carefully blank, while Silva wore a barely concealed smirk. Wright stalked up to Farstride and began tightening her gear, her shoulders hunched against their stares.
It seemed like an eternity before the curtain over the door swished and deposited a grinning Kai outside, her hands fumbling with her belt. She turned back and called something over her shoulder—Wright heard an answering feminine giggle from inside. By the time Kai had turned back, Wright was inches from her face, radiating fury.
"What in the gods-cursed world are you thinking?"
Kai stared at her in faint amusement. Her hair, usually a tangled mess, looked nothing short of debauched. Wright could see the lingering dampness of water clinging to the skin just inside the collar of her shirt. "Provisions were cheap, and you were taking too long. I had time and coin to spare."
She brushed past Wright to the hitching post where her horse Jolie was waiting. She pulled a worn cloth from her saddlebag and began wiping down her face. Wright followed in her footsteps, scarcely resisting the urge to tear the cloth from Kai's hand and throw it to the dirt.
"Your lord has set you on a crucial mission, and you see fit to go... cavorting?"
Kai laughed in her face as she tucked the cloth back into her bag. "Cavorting? It's called sex, ser knight. Perhaps you've heard of it?"
Wright pointed a gauntleted finger inches from Kai's nose. "Your distractions risk both our mission and our lives. I will not allow this to happen again."
The smile disappeared from Kai's face, along with the sleepy look in her eye. "Won't you, ser?" she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "I need not remind you that the only authority you hold over me is that which you can exercise through force."
Eyes narrowing, Wright stepped into Kai's space. She could practically feel the heat from Kai's body radiating through her armor. The air around her still reeked of perfume. "Then I will exercise it, ser. If you give me no choice."
Kai stared at her for what felt like an eternity, a smile on her lips and her eyes as cold as ice. Wright almost began to reach for her sword. But then Kai reached out to clasp Wright's shoulder, just above the pauldron where Wright would feel it most. "The choice is yours, ser. But I do hope you'll try." The promise in her voice did not require elaboration.
Without another word, Kai loosened Jolie from the post and mounted up, turning towards the western gate without another word. For a moment, Wright considered letting her go, watching until she disappeared into the darkness of the evening beyond and resolving to never see her again. But her lord's orders rang cruelly in her ears, and with a gesture to their fellows, she set off on Kai's trail.
She could scarcely believe her lord's orders had even once given her pause. Betraying Kai would be easier than Wright had ever imagined.
CHAPTER FOUR
They made it to the border of Kenilworth's land at dusk. The sullen silence of their journey was becoming a habit. Wright's anger settled over them like a thunderhead, leaving the air heavy and charged, and even Kai wilted under its weight. Not to the point of being at all repentant, of course. She had her own grudges to nurse.
All that stood between them and Tintagel's land was the godsroad which marked the border. Their party lay in on their stomachs the deep foliage near its edge, bodies sinking into the moss as they waited. Silva had skillfully guided them to a section with no broken-down cars that might have carried the curse. Across it lay leagues of overgrown fields once thick with crops, a spider web of roads once thronging with moving automobiles. And beyond all that lay the coast, and all that might await them. But first, they had to get there.
They'd tethered the horses behind them, out of sight as they scouted the border. Silva had assured them that the border routes she'd garnered at the tavern were good; they couldn't risk blundering out into the open just as an enemy patrol rounded the corner. For minutes they had watched the road and seen not so much as a fly buzzing across it. Wright's legs were beginning to cramp. Kai was ready to vibrate off the forest floor.
"Can't we go?" Kai hissed. She made to get up. Wright grabbed her arm and yanked her back down.
"Wait," Silva said calmly.
A moment later, the patrol emerged around the bend in the road. Wright immediately tensed. They had dogs with them, mangy things with their noses to the ground followed by three soldiers ahorse. If Wright's group of infiltrators had crossed the road shortly before, they surely would have picked up their scent. All of the riders were armed with bows and swords. She felt Silva's hand lightly on her shoulder and glanced to the side. Silva made a gesture flowing towards them, and then tapped her nose. The wind's direction was cloaking their scent for now. But if it should change... Slowly, soundlessly, Silva drew her pistol.
Wright scarcely dared breathe as the patrol continued on its way, drawing even with their position. The dogs tugged at their leashes down the road, ears pricked forward, but there was no sudden bay, no rush of teeth towards them. Wright didn't dare move, not even to press herself deeper into the moss. At last, the final rider passed them by, moving down the road, out of sight.
Kai let out a faint sigh. Silva slipped her gun back into its holster and rose. "We bring the horses now," she said. "The next patrol won't be until full dark. There's shelter less than an hour's ride farther where we can stop."
As Kai turned to follow her she met Wright's eyes with a grin. "Looks like we're lucky to have her after all, eh?" she said, slapping Wright's back as she passed. The blow landed slightly too hard to be friendly.
They found shelter just as Silva said, a run-down godsruin with no sign of the curse. Moss and leaves had already invaded through a gaping hole in the ceiling, turnin
g the hard floor spongy and moist. They built a fire in the stone hearth and ate a meager meal in silence, while Wright used a stick of charcoal to sketch the details of their journey into the cloth map she kept folded in her belt. Kai made her way to farthest corner of the one-room house, unrolled her bedroll with a flourish, and threw herself down on it with her back turned to the rest of the party. If the lines of tension in her back were any indication, she was only pretending to sleep.
Wright glared at her back a while longer, watching as inevitably her breathing smoothed out, became low and deep with unconsciousness. Visions of wet collarbones and damp hair sprung unbidden into Wright's mind. Her hands tightened into fists, as if these pangs of unsavory hunger were something she could fight away.
"You two should pull the trigger already."
Silva's voice was low, too soft to disturb Kai sleeping a short distance away. Preston was absorbed in one of his scrolls, pretending not to listen. "What do you mean?" Wright said.
The woman shrugged. The darkness and firelight playing in measure over her dark face sharpened every angle, turning her expression hawk-like. "It's no good facing enemies if your allies cannot stand together."
Wright snapped a handful of small twigs and tossed them into the flame, one by one. "My conflict with Ser Kai is my own business."
"Not if it gets us all killed." Silva leaned forward. "It's obvious you two have a history."
In spite of herself, Wright pondered the question. Her relationship with Kai was as complicated as it was difficult to explain. Their paths had been crossing for years; in some ways Kai was as close as Wright had to a friend, but perhaps that said more about Wright herself than it did about her relationship with Kai. They could hardly stand to be in the same room as one another without breaking into an argument, yet the days Wright spent in Kai's company was always brighter, sharper, than the months she spent without.
Distantly, she became aware that Silva was still waiting for an answer. Wright shrugged and tossed the last of her sticks into the fire. "What do you suggest? That I turn a blind eye to her reckless debauchery?"
