The Dragon and Rose

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “I thought we could sneak out together. Like we did from the castle.”

  He leaned forward and sniffed. Smelled the ripe aroma of the sewers. “Is that how you got here?”

  She nodded. “I brought help. Mudo and Tonto say they like you and want to get you out of here.”

  “Did they, now? Are you certain they told you that?”

  Another nod.

  “Well, I’d hate to disappoint them. It’s good to have a couple of big boys like that on our side, isn’t it? But without a key I don’t think they’d get this cell open either. And attacking those men out in the theater might get both of them hurt. We don’t want that. And you can’t leave them unattended.”

  Vinca shook the cell door again. Reluctantly looked at the door leading outside.

  “You did your best. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. Time to go hide, bug.”

  As she turned to leave Hellard reached out through the bars.

  “Vinca, do you have any of Mudo and Tonto’s chew toys?”

  “Of course.” She reached into the bag and showed him one of the fish-emulsion-infused sticks.

  “Both Mudo and Tonto have pretty good noses, don’t they?”

  “The best sniffers.”

  “And they can follow you through a stinky sewer, can’t they?”

  “Yup.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Then maybe there is something you can do to help. Give me one of those sticks, more if you can spare them. And tomorrow night, we’re going to have some fun.”

  THE HEAVYSET WOMAN who came to feed him set the bowl far enough away that Hellard had to stretch his fingers to drag it over. Then he realized the bowl wouldn’t fit through the bars.

  “Hey! A little help here?”

  Clearly frightened, she hurried off, leaving him to wonder how he was supposed to eat soup through the bars without a spoon. With thumb and forefinger he managed to pluck a few morsels of sweet potato out of the broth. It wasn’t half bad. There were also a few limp green beans that reminded him of his mother’s cooking. He ate those too.

  “Well, this won’t do,” a man at the door said. He was one of the guards from the other night. Muscular, with narrow eyes that were hard to read, and a gold ring piercing the flesh of his faintly green cheek.

  A halfblood, Hellard guessed.

  The thug waved him back. “Up to the far side of the cell with you.”

  Hellard didn’t have much room to comply but eased himself away from the cell door. The man produced a key, unlocked the cage, and shoved the bowl inside before closing it back up. Hellard noticed a forearm tattoo of a starry-eyed skull, the same design he wore and kept hidden with his sleeve. The tattoo meant one thing. This thug belonged to Hellard’s former gang, the Karanog.

  But why was he here with Red Eye?

  “You smell of fish,” the gangster said.

  “Haven’t had a chance to make it to the showers after my fight.”

  “Hah. Raw deal, sticking you in here. Small cage for a big fellow.”

  Hellard took the bowl and sipped the broth. “Not so bad, if you’re comparing jails here and other places. But it seems the Karanog’s standards keep slipping.”

  The gangster raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would you know about that?”

  “Just your gang’s reputation is all. This whole fight theater seems a bit high-profile.”

  “We’re branching out.”

  “Didn’t used to be on the island at all. Karanog used to stick to the wilds to the east and away from all the duke’s soldiers and their patrols.”

  “Loom Island is where the profits are lately.”

  “Didn’t used to allow purebloods either. Saw a few with your crew out in the theater.”

  The man grinned and showed a pair of missing teeth. “Maybe they’re not my crew and only my associates. If Karanog was in charge here, we’d probably do things a bit different. But it’s best to be patient. Let’s say I was assigned here by my boss to learn the ropes of a new business. What makes you such an expert, anyway?”

  Hellard gave his usual smile. He’d have to be cautious. The gang didn’t allow its members to walk away, but that was precisely what he had done, ditching what was left of his crew after they voted a pureblood in.

  “No expert. It’s just your gang is a legend among my kind.”

  “Ogres, right? Not many of you left.”

  “Not since the duke started hunting us even before his edict. Karanog at least left us alone. Sometimes even took care of us.”

  “Maybe that hasn’t changed. You have your soup, don’t you?”

  “And you’re going to try to kill me tomorrow night.”

  “Me? No. But I’ll be setting wagers. And this house knows how to cover its bets. So tell me, are you a bare-hands brawler or do you do better with a tree branch like in the stories my da told me? Because last night might have just been you getting lucky.”

  Hellard sighed and drained the bowl. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it. So seeing as how I’m not getting out, how about getting me some more food? Unless of course you want me hungry. But I’ll tell you this for your odds book: I fight better on a full stomach.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  DIGGER WAS HEMMED IN behind the bar. Jumping down into the cellar would only delay the inevitable. Even now guards poured in through the front door and the storeroom exit. The guards had the queen and were rushing her away, bodily protecting her as if Digger and a score of archers were firing missiles. Oddly, she was struggling against them.

  “Let me go! He’s not to be harmed!”

  Another guard had Jamie and was likewise escorting him out the door.

  Other soldiers had Isabel cornered. She held a chair and was keeping them at bay, at least for the moment.

  Digger hurled a bottle at the closest guard. The man deflected it with a raised arm. He wasn’t so fast when Digger flung an empty keg, knocking him and his nearest companion down. A guard rounded the bar with a drawn sword. Digger caught his arm as the man clumsily tried to chop down at him. Digger then punched him in the gut. The sword fell and Digger scooped it up in time to parry a new guard.

  Someone climbed the bar behind him. He was surrounded. Too many bodies blocked the ways out. The men on either side were being cautious, not opening themselves up to an easy counterattack.

  “Think you can kill our kind?” one of them said.

  Digger feinted, got the man to retreat a step, and used the opening to throw another bottle. The soldier shattered it with his sword.

  “Enough!”

  The queen had freed herself from her guards and had stopped at the front door. “Everyone back off or so help me, I’ll have all of you fighting naked in my dungeon against hungry pigs.”

  Digger pivoted between the soldiers and saw both had inched away. Neither took their eyes off him.

  The queen pushed her steward aside and approached the bar.

  “Will you yield to save your life and Isabel’s?”

  Digger weighed whether he could make it to the queen before being struck down. “I’m not letting you arrest me.”

  “You don’t have a choice. And it’s not like you’re being taken to the stockade like a common criminal. You’re to be my guest at the castle. What is it that makes you so stubborn?”

  “It’s like Isabel said. My brother’s been taken. I’m going to save him.”

  “Or die trying? Is that it? Such ferocity. If that’s the barrier to your surrender, then let’s see what I can do to resolve this. Rochus? Have the men spread out and search the district. The missing chef was abducted and we need to find him.”

  The steward only hesitated for a moment before giving orders to the soldiers. They hurried out, leaving three to watch Digger and Isabel. Isabel kept hold of her chair. When Digger tried to move out from behind the bar, the soldier standing closest to him tapped the sword on the wood.

  “You stay put.”

  The queen stepped up to the bar and ran
a finger across it as if inspecting it for dust. “Oh don’t be such a poopy. Our champion here is going to put that sword down and pour us a drink. It’s been too long since I’ve sat in a place like this with my subjects face-to-face, free of the pomp and formalities of my station. Come back inside, Jamie. Bring your girl over and let’s have a round.”

  Before the guard could react, Digger clamped a hand on hers. Pulled her against the bar and pressed the sword to her neck. She gasped and struggled but couldn’t free herself.

  The three guards closed in, weapons leveled.

  “Another step and I cut her open.”

  “Let her go!” Jamie said.

  He moved past the guards, his rapier out, and struck a fighter’s stance as if he and Digger were going to duel.

  Digger shook his head. “I schooled you once already. Don’t make me regret sparing your life in the games. Move away.”

  Isabel dropped her chair and got between them. “Digger, this is no good. Nothing will come of this but you losing your life. This won’t help Monty.”

  “Neither will letting them arrest us.”

  The queen was digging her fingernails into his hand. He ignored the pain. The first thing he had to do was get outside. He pulled Lady Claudia over to the end of the bar. The closest guard backed off but Jamie blocked his path.

  Digger got Claudia in one arm so his sword arm was free. “I said move.”

  “So exciting,” Claudia said. “Are you going to fight?”

  “Shut up.”

  Jamie made a few tentative jabs with his rapier. “Stop hiding behind her and face me.”

  “I’ll wring her neck first.”

  Claudia tittered.

  A guard shoved Isabel out of the way. Digger kept his back to the wall and dragged the queen towards the kitchen door. His head still spun. The closest guard was the biggest threat. The way he stood, the way he held his sword. This was an experienced fighter who had used his weapon outside of the training yard.

  Jamie and the other two were clustered close together.

  Digger shoved the queen towards her nephew. Jamie caught her and pivoted her out of the way as Digger lunged at the experienced guard. The guard kept his stance while retreating behind the bar, parrying the blow. Digger used his size and reach and caused the man to stumble over the open trapdoor. His opponent was off-balance. Digger slashed at him, almost knocking the guard’s sword away, and got inside the man’s reach. He smashed his face with his fist. The guard faltered. Digger drove the sword down towards the man’s chest.

  “Stay your hand!”

  It was Rochus, the queen’s steward. He had Monty by the arm. They entered from the back along with a few of the guards. He thrust Monty forward. Isabel caught him and steadied him.

  “You want your brother? Here he is. He was tied up in the apartment upstairs.”

  The soldier on the floor beneath Digger had his hands up as if surrendering.

  Digger kept the sword hovering. “Monty, are you okay?”

  His brother nodded. “We were just closing up and made it up to Sofia’s apartment when we were attacked. Sofia’s fine. I got hit on the head. What’s going on?”

  “We’re getting out of here.”

  “No, you’re not,” the queen said. “We’ve secured your brother. He’s safe, so you don’t have that as an excuse. Now it’s time for you to come help me. You want to call it being placed under arrest? That’s fine. After all, I just saw a fel commit several acts of violence, which of itself would be a ticket to the gallows. And you also laid a hand on my person. Why, if I were in a less festive mood, it would be a sentence for every one of your kind inside the bar. Fortunately for you, my dear champion, this has been so exciting. Ooh, I do have an eye for talent! Unless of course you want to fight it out now. Messy, but I understand if you have your blood up.”

  Digger realized there was no way he’d make it outside alive, let alone taking Monty and Isabel with him.

  “What do you want from me?”

  She sighed. “The games, of course. While I’m not yet ready for my new season, I need my champion to play for me. Because someone has seen fit to create a new contest. And you are going to win it big or die trying.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  DIGGER ALLOWED HIMSELF to be manacled.

  Monty was taken out front along with Isabel. Lady Sofia was in the storeroom shouting at someone, but Digger was unable to follow what was happening.

  Queen Claudia remained with him. “The restraints are just a precaution. You’re to be my guest at the castle and not a prisoner. If you can keep from smashing in the faces of my servants, you might even be comfortable. And don’t worry. Your brother and Lady Sofia are welcome too. This will be fun for all of us.”

  The corporal of the watch brought him outside to a horse and helped him up onto the saddle. The animal’s reins were held by another mounted guard. A carriage came forward and Isabel and Jamie were ushered inside. Sofia and Monty came next.

  The queen stood by Digger. “I suppose this will be a shock to the nobility when they learn of it.”

  Digger clutched the pommel of the saddle. “I’d do more good out on the street looking for Marcus.”

  “This Marcus is no longer your concern but mine. Let the city watch do its job.”

  “He’s slipped through their fingers enough times. He’s an experienced ranger and knows how to move quietly, hide, and strike without warning.”

  She waved off his comment. To her steward, she said, “Let’s away to the castle. I’m suddenly tired and I’m afraid there’s only a couple of hours of night left. If I don’t get at least a little sleep, it’ll take hours to cover the lines under my eyes come morning.”

  CASTLE SOLDIERS BROUGHT Digger up the steps and through the main doors. He was led into a giant hallway that echoed every footfall and word. Bleary-eyed servants stared in open shock. Corporal Dario remained with Digger and beamed as if he had received a promotion. Digger’s escorts walked him down to a wing off the main floor and into a cozy bedroom with a bed covered in lacy pillows.

  “You’re not to leave,” a guard said. “We’ll keep the door locked, so you won’t have the washroom in the hall. There’s your piss pot, washbasin, and some soap and a towel. Might want to clean yourself before you sully the sheets. You stink.”

  The door closed. Digger took a deep breath and listened to the sounds outside in the hallway. Someone was getting comfortable on a chair beyond the door. He sagged onto the bed. Except for the pillows and fancy cover, it reminded him of the one he had slept in as a child. It would be too short for him. He pulled back the thick blanket and uncovered soft white sheets. He wanted nothing more than to collapse, but he realized he could smell himself. He was covered in grime, sweat, and dried blood.

  Despite the manacles, he washed as best he could, tried out the bed, and finally slumbered.

  THE QUEEN’S FEL STEWARD knocked before entering. The morning sun shone bright through the shuttered window. Digger sat up as Rochus handed him some folded garments.

  “These are more suitable for dress here inside the castle,” Rochus said. “If I have the manacles removed, will you behave?”

  The guard entered without prompting and took off the steel bindings. Digger rubbed his chafed wrists.

  Without waiting, he stripped off his filthy shirt and dropped it on the floor. The tunic and slacks Rochus had brought were made of softer material than anything he had ever worn. There was even a pair of undershorts.

  Rochus smirked. “Will you need an explanation on how to put those on?”

  “Afraid I’m going to be prowling your castle like a naked animal?”

  “I expect little and am rarely disappointed. The queen wishes to see you. Your brother and Isabel will be present. I believe your brother’s presence will comfort you and prevent an outburst of violence.”

  “If I see him safe, I’ll manage to control myself. Tell me, steward, what’s it like working for her?”


  “First, mind how you address her. Lady Claudia is the appropriate title. Queen, if you prefer, but that’s a recent convention and not a proper expression of noble rank.”

  “You call her that.”

  “I prefer to stay on her good side.”

  “Lady Claudia it is, then. You and so many other fel not only live here but work to make her games and her twisted system keep running. Why?”

  “What would you have us do? She protects us from the worst of the duke’s edicts. She treats fairly. She governs with a just hand. You and I both know how much worse it is in Bahia and the other lands around us across the water.”

  “She hangs our people for petty crimes. And sending us off to murder one another in her games ought to tell you that she’s crazy.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that. Not in my presence, and not here. You’re free to speak your mind in your dingy taverns, but not within the walls of this castle. Queen Claudia has seen fit to have you back so you can assist her. It’s because of her benevolence that you and your brother aren’t dead.”

  Digger unfurled the slacks and was surprised to see that they appeared to be tailored to his size. “Remind me to buy a dictionary the next time we have to talk. Are you going to stand there while I put this on?”

  Rochus turned his back and faced the hallway, where the door sentry and Corporal Dario stood waiting. Dario was now dressed as a castle guard in orange and yellow leather armor.

  As Digger tried on his new outfit he took the time to glance at Rochus to see if he wore any weapons on him, but none were visible. The undergarments and pants fit perfectly but the shirt had too much lacework up the front and it felt too tight across his chest.

  They led him out of his room and into the center of the castle. The corporal, appearing overeager, always remained a few steps behind him.

  From one of the rooms came the chimes and ringing of clock bells. The noise was so busy Digger couldn’t count the hour.

  A sunroom with curved windows had a long table, at the head of which sat the queen. Jamie was at her right with Isabel next to him and Monty seated beside her. Lady Sofia was to Claudia’s left. The table was set with a yellow tablecloth, plates of sweet rolls, cheeses, and thin-sliced ham, and an array of fruit. An attendant held two pitchers of juice, one red and one orange. Another brought out a steaming pot of tea and was filling tiny demitasses.