The Republic of Selegania Boxed Set: Volumes One through Four

by Daniel Lawlis

  Then, for around twenty minutes there were no turns at all. Tats noticed there were no business establishments in the area, only houses. And it seemed the farther Rose went, the larger the houses were, for there was a continually greater gap between each one.

  Finally, when it seemed this would continue until morning light, Tats noticed Rose slowing down. Tats instinctually brought Valiant to a complete halt and moved a bit to the side of the street. Sure enough, Rose stopped too and began to adjust her hair, as promised.

  Tats would have been content to call it mission accomplished, but he noticed a little farther up the road there were some horses moving in Rose’s direction. With that peculiar instinct that criminals are born with or acquire quickly in their careers, he reached into his stash of Green and extracted some. He felt for some odd reason that Rose might be in danger, and as he was no Mr. Brass, he thought he just might need every advantage he could get. Plus, another part of him rationalized, he just might need that extra boost figuring out how in the hell to find his way from here to a place of lodging.

  He inched ahead slowly, keeping far to the side of the road, seeking refuge like some solitary creature in the shadows afforded by the trees. He could see now that there were two horsemen approaching Rose. One of them attempted to make conversation, and he could hear Rose mutter something while attempting to steer clear of their pathway.

  They manifestly diverted their course to stay in line with hers. One of them whistled, and the other one cackled.

  Tats sniffed the entirety of the portion he had grabbed in the dark from his stash, grabbed some more, and gave it to his horse. Then, he hopped back on and removed his large dagger from his boot. When he heard Rose scream, he threw caution to the wind.

  He dug his knees in hard to Valiant’s side, prodding him forward, a superfluous act, as Valiant had already sensed the interest his master had in the young damsel’s distress. Valiant galloped forward viciously. Tats could see that one of the men had grabbed Rose and snatched her from her horse and placed her on his own. Tats noticed a buggy speedily heading their way, and he knew this was an organized kidnapping.

  Valiant seemed to have formed his own plan of attack, independent of whatever instructions his master might give him, and so impressed was Tats by the conviction with which Valiant went charging towards the horseman not holding Rose that Tats felt obligated to at least let his noble beast demonstrate his strategy.

  Tats barely held on to the reins as Valiant suddenly reared up, kicking the man savagely in the neck and face repeatedly, while standing on his hind legs. Blood shot from various wounds, and the malefactor went tumbling backwards, the back of his head softening his body’s fall against the concrete. Valiant then went charging towards the man holding Rose.

  She was trying to kick, scratch, and bite, but the man seemed imperturbed, as he resolutely brought his victim near the carriage, which, Tats could see, now had an open door, looking like the inside of a tomb into which Rose was to go.

  Tats decided it was time to show Valiant he could take the offensive as well. With the reins still tightly clasped with his left hand and his dagger in his right, he leaped up on top of Valiant’s back, and when he got near to Rose’s abductor, he jumped through the air towards the man and sliced across his throat with his dagger.

  Blood began to spurt out, sprinkling all over Tats’ face. Tats landed awkwardly on the neck of the horse and quickly let himself fall to the ground—thankfully, feet first.

  He then snatched Rose forcefully off the horse, lest it crash into the side of the buggy and hurl her to her death.

  He directed her to Valiant and had her climb on top, as her own horse was about halfway down the block still, although it was sauntering sheepishly in the direction of the tumult.

  Tats then noticed a man step down from the buggy seat. He reached for a cane, which Tats had no doubt would prove to be a formidable weapon against his short dagger. He had no intention to allow the cane to enter the contest.

  He slashed viciously at the man’s wrist and then quickly plunged his dagger to the hilt in the man’s throat. The next thing Tats knew the buggy was taking off, being driven by someone who did not wish to take part in the gladiatorial contests.

  When Tats turned around, however, he noticed that there were about thirty men surrounding him on all sides. Instinctually, he sensed they were not combatants or in any way involved with the would-be abductors.

  “What’s all the commotion for?” one of them asked.

  Tats felt instinctively that a bold approach here was not only the best, but the only, course, especially considering that if he did not state the purpose of his business now he was sure to be seen as a threat if and when he returned here.

  “The lady was being abducted by a group of villains. I merely did what any gentleman would have under the circumstances.”

  “Is that so?” asked a large, moustached man. His compatriots grinned and looked at him reverently, suggesting he was their leader.

  Then, as suddenly as the man’s snide sneer had reached its zenith, it disappeared.

  “Wait a moment . . . come closer you!” he said, looking directly at Rose.

  Tats pulled gently on Valiant’s reins, bringing Rose closer.

  “I know her,” said the moustached man. “She works for the boss.” Then, with his face softening considerably, he said, “Son, you just may have earned yourself a reward. Those men probably work for Howard Helmes, the boss’s biggest competitor. Or, they may have just been predators. Either way, the boss don’t like her goods damaged.” He turned a hardened eye towards Tats as if to drive the point home.

  “But”, he said, his face growing suspicious, “there’s still questions to be answered here. Rose don’t live here. And I can’t exactly say I’ve seen you around these parts. So, just what in the heck is Rose doing so far from home, and just who in the hell are you?”

  Tats could tell the goodwill earned by his good deed had had a short but pleasant life.

  “Who in the hell am I?” Tats repeated with authority and a small touch of disdain. “I am your boss’s brother.”

  “Haaaaaaa!” The man let it out almost more like a dying rasp than a laugh before then doubling over briefly in a fit of giggles. “Now, listen, son. I kind of like you. Truth be told, I admire a guy who’ll stick up for a woman, and I can see you can handle yourself pretty well, and I won’t shortchange your horse none either. And if you were to tell me a believable lie—say, ‘I was following this fine lass to her home with the intention of leaving her a rose on her doorstep along with a love note’—I’d let you go on your blessed way, and it would be the lady who would have to do her explaining to the boss as to what in the heck she’s doing around here.

  “But if you insist on getting smart, then I’m gonna start to dislike you real fast,” he said. His eyes had a certain calmness about them that suggested inflicting injury was something he could do out of pure professionalism and without raising his voice.

  “Bring a torch here,” Tats said with authority.

  Moustache beckoned one of his underlings, who came scurrying forward.

  “Now, no funny business, mister,” Moustache warned.

  “None,” Tats agreed. “I just want you to get a good look at me.”

  Moustache gulped once. He could tell his subject had no shortage of confidence, and he was beginning to second-guess his own skepticism.

  Tats moved closer, until he was just six to eight inches away.

  “Hold the torch close,” Tats said, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on those of Moustache.

  The man did as Tats ordered, and Moustache didn’t so much as blink either.

  “Are you going to tell me you see no resemblance?” Tats queried. “My name is David Havensford, although I go by ‘Tats.’”

  Tats could tell he was about seven-tenths of the way there. Moustache seemed a bit unnerved as he looked into his eyes, suggesting he did see an uncanny resemblance to a gaze he dreaded.
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  “Reach into my front left pocket,” Tats calmly, but authoritatively, instructed the torchbearer.

  “Am I gonna take orders from him all night?” Torchbearer groused.

  “Do it,” Moustache ordered calmly.

  Torchbearer reached into Tats’ pocket and extracted a small painting.

  “Look at it,” Tats said. “That’s my sister, and that’s your boss.” Tats was privately hoping his vision had been correct when it had informed him he had seen several of these men issue from the property where Rose had signaled his sister’s abode. If not, he was barking up the wrong tree.

  Moustache blinked once. Tats was sure it had been the first time during their stare down.

  “Take them inside. Secure them, but be gentle.” He looked really calmly at Tats, the most conflicted balance of fear and aggression he had ever seen. He looked like he was about to say some threat like, You better be who you say you are, but bit his tongue at the last minute, perhaps as he thought of the possible consequences of him being who he said he was.

  Several men approached Tats and Rose from behind. They ordered Rose to dismount from Valiant.

  “We’ve got to take our precautions, understand?” Moustache said to Tats and then shook his head at one of his men who was getting ready to tie Tats’ hands behind his back. The man then walked to Tats’ and Rose’s front and tied their hands in front of them gently.

  “Bring them to the main door. I’ll see if the boss wants to see them tonight or if it will have to wait for tomorrow.”

  Tats and Rose were led on foot, with Valiant and Rose’s horse being included in the procession. They went up the street, entered through a large opened gate, and began walking up a road leading to the house.

  It seemed the walk was nearly a mile, but Tats was mightily distracted by the breathtaking array of first-class manicured plants that adorned the sides of the road underneath the spotlight of the moon, as it seemed such scenes existed only in fairy tales.

  As he neared the house, its grandeur quickly eclipsed that of the manicured gardens. Gold adorned the windows, and every angle and every spiral seemed as if they had been designed by the best craftsmen who ever lived.

  “Wait here,” Moustache instructed Tats, Rose, and the dozen or so men guarding them.

  Chapter 10

  Tats noticed he got a lot of hard stares from the other guards while Moustache checked on The Boss. Apparently, they had been less than impressed with Tats’ bold act of claiming to be her brother, and if their looks revealed what was in their heart, they were hoping to beat him silly.

  Rose looked at Tats with a confused countenance. Part of her wanted to smother him with kisses for putting his life on the line to save her from those creeps who wanted to do Kasani knows what with her, but on the other hand if he hadn’t convinced her to signal The Boss’s house she wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place and, most importantly, wouldn’t now be in this situation.

  Although the guards looked fiercely at Tats, they didn’t dare make any threats, much less physically mistreat him or his accomplice in mischief. As for Tats, he kept his trap shut. He was brimming with energy on the inside, and it was torture to stay passively in this situation, but his mind felt clear in spite of its abundant energy that demanded an outlet, and he realized that he had appropriately seized the moment for oratorical audacity with Moustache and that the most prudent thing would be for him to wait until Moustache or Becca came outside.

  Suddenly, a dozen more guards came spilling out of the mansion, all holding torches. They pulled Rose to the side, and several of them grabbed Tats from behind, holding him wholly immobile. Their torches, held near, illumined his face brightly.

  “Heads will roll if this is a prank!” Tats heard a voice say. The Sodorfian pronunciation was pretty good, but he could spot exactly four slight giveaways in this short sentence alone that marked the speaker as being from Sivingdel, notably the rolled “r.”

  A frightening woman issued from the house, glasses on her face, her hair in complete disarray.

  Then, she and Tats made eye contact.

  “DAAAAVEY!!!!”

  The woman went running towards Tats and gave him a bear hug.

  “My little brother! I thought I’d never see you again!” she said, switching to Seleganian without even realizing it.

  The malevolence in the guards’ expressions turned to deference with a touch of fear. They were glad they had shown restraint.

  “Well, you picked a strange time to come and visit, little brother!” the woman said.

  “I wasn’t exactly sure how to time the journey, Becca,” Tats said. “It’s my first time here. Heck, it’s my first time outside of Sivingdel.”

  “Come, come inside. Who is your lady friend?”

  “Oh, Rose is her name. We met tonight at a certain establishment, and I convinced her to allow me to escort her home. It turns out Rose has a bit of a sense of humor, so she decided to take me to what appears to be the finest neighborhood in the whole city, and one by one, she kept telling me, ‘That’s my house.’ I almost fell for it a few times, since I had a bit to drink tonight, but it didn’t take long for me to realize she was just having some innocent fun with a foreigner.

  “She didn’t mean any disrespect by it, Becca. She had no idea we were related. Well, I thought I’d play a little joke on her and pretend to be leaving her, so I turned around and started to ride away. Just at that moment, I heard some shouting, and I realized some guys were trying to kidnap her. Things got a bit ugly,” Tats said, showing the blood covering his hands and shirt, “but we came through. That was where your men came outside, as there was quite a hullaballoo. I wish I could have made a smoother arrival.”

  Becca cast a glance at Moustache that more than sufficed to ask her unstated question.

  “There was quite a scrap, Boss. Mr. Havensford can handle himself real well. Those men aimed to do Miss Rose here some harm. They were taking her away. Mr. Havensford’s horse dealt with one of them. He took out another. The carriage took off though, so there must have been at least one of them left.”

  Becca shot a quick glance at Tats that told him the lie would suffice for now, but that she would need the real story as soon as they could speak in private.

  “Well, my house is your house, brother, plus that of your guest—for tonight,” she added, and Rose had no doubt whom the qualifying language was for. She also knew she had no prudent choice but to accept the offer.

  “We’ll have much to talk about tomorrow morning, brother. You are invited to a sumptuous breakfast at 9 a.m. I suspect more than fondness has brought you such a long way,” she said with a shrewd smile.

  “Frederick,” she said, addressing Moustache, “send a dozen men after that carriage. Whoever’s in it, take them alive if possible. Don’t let your men come back empty-handed.”

  Moustache whistled sharply and began calling out names, all of whom then leapt on top of swift-looking horses and took off galloping.

  The Boss then instructed Moustache to show David and his lady friend to the finest guest room.

  As soon as the door was shut, Tats told Rose, “I’m sorry I got you into this, but everything’s going to be fine. I know my sister, and I know she didn’t believe the lie I told. That was just for the benefit of the guards because it didn’t make her lose face. I’ll tell her the real story, just as it happened, and I promise you no harm will come to you. I know my sister.”

  He noticed Rose was sweating profusely. She seemed in fear for her life. Tats, like many men in an awkward situation with a female, felt he had two options, both of which were doomed to fail. He could offer her money for her troubles, but that would possibly insult her, given that he had already paid her for what she agreed to do, and it might make it look like there was no part of her being that could not be purchased.

  Yet, if he offered her no compensation for her troubles, she would think him a thoughtless savage.

  He decided he would
go for some hybrid approach. “Look, Rose, I’m really sorry,” he began while casually going for his wallet. “This is way more of a mess than what you agreed to get into. Please let me make it right,” he said, extending her a few thousand falons.

  “I agreed to do a task for a certain price, and you’ve already paid that price. I knew it had risks. That’s why it had a high price. If I accepted that money you have in your hand, you would turn me into your debtor.”

  Tats noticed a few tears roll down her cheek.

  “In fact, I’m already in your debt,” she said. “I’d be well on my way towards becoming a murdered, raped corpse if those men had taken me. Thank you.” Rose approached him and gave him a hug.