This really has been a fucking day.
Amos strode beside Kiba, as the two of them made their way across the Dargas mid-day scene.
They’d spent about a quarter call in the wagon. The driver had taken them close to the other side of town, given Amos new clothes, and dropped them off in some alley. Now, they were walking back the other way, and Amos still had questions. He looked over at Kiba. What is this kid’s deal?
Amos watched as the wind rustled Kiba’s unkempt hair, while he stretched out his arms and embraced the breeze. His drab clothes looked ill-suited for the weather, but he hardly seemed to mind. That’s the least weird thing about him, Amos thought to himself. Honestly, none of this made sense. A fifteen-year-old having enough money to pay off some guy with a wagon was… unusual but possible. Nothing else was though. How could a kid like him have gotten into one of the Coves? How could he have known the guards’ shift changes? And worst of all— how does he know about Gad? That was too much information for Amos not to take him seriously, but, I’ve let this go on for long enough, he thought to himself. Time for answers.
“So, what is this favor anyways?”
Kiba eyed him for a moment. “I suppose we’re close enough,” he said. “First, you should know that I work for Gad. Sort of.”
Amos raised a brow at that. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a man Gad likes to use for smuggling. I’m sure you’ve heard of Shavur Dal.”
Shavur? Amos thought. That piqued his interest, but the wind came again and Amos turned his shoulder against it. He hadn’t given up his cloak, but his dark boots and brown pants were surprisingly warm. The white tunic only had strings to tighten it around his chest though, and those proved less useful against the cold.
“You’re talking about the Councilor’s cousin?” Amos asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be crazy?”
“He’s… eccentric,” Kiba said. “Maybe a little paranoid at worst, but his routes are reliable and Gad likes him—”
“You mean he manipulates him.” Then Amos thought about it for a moment. “Just like you.”
“See,” Kiba said. “I knew the guards were wrong about you. You are clever.”
Amos gave him a dry look. What’s that supposed to mean?
Then suddenly Kiba stopped. He lost a bit of his youthful swagger as he looked up and to his right. “That’s smoke,” he said.
Amos peered over to where Kiba was looking. A thick plume of smoke was rising off in the distance, maybe a ten minute walk from where they were. Another fire? Amos thought. I figured that shit would be over by now.
They ogled at the smoke for a minute, then Kiba groaned. “That’ll have to be somebody else’s problem.” He kept walking ahead and soon Amos followed close behind.
“So Shavur,” Amos said.
“Yes, I may have some influence over him,” Kiba replied, as he waved his hand in the air. “He’s got a lot of… exploitable quirks, but namely, I’m the one who really plans all his smuggling routes.”
Amos had to stop himself from gawking. “You?”
Kiba still looked unamused. “I’ve been sneaking between the walls since I was eight. I know ways through that old stone that the guard couldn’t even imagine.”
“Ok, ok,” Amos said, raising his hands. “So, you run all Shavur’s routes for him, and in exchange you get what?”
“A nice kickback,” Kiba said. “And an inside look at Gad’s operations.”
Explains how he knows about the opium but, “what’s this got to do with your favor?”
“Well Shavur,” Kiba said, “has been getting a little cocky. Ever since Ethan got the Dal’s back on the Council he’s been cashing in on his newfound influence. Some little group of thugs are acting as his crew now. He’s stopped paying me, and started trying to use my routes without me.”
Amos smirked. “He cut you out.”
“He’s trying to, and now I want you to go and show him why that’s a bad idea.”
That’s simple enough I guess. “I’m sure he has some protection then.”
“He’ll have a couple guards yeah,” Kiba said with a shrug, “but nothing you can’t handle.” Then he tapped Amos with his elbow. “Listen, all you have to do is go in, collect my dues, and bring them back out. Easy.”
We’ll see about that. “Where is he?” Amos asked.
Kiba stopped, then pointed ahead. “He’s right in there.”
He’d motioned toward a tavern, and not a good looking one either. Infrastructure withered away this close to the Inner Wall. The path here was nothing more than strewn cobble and dirt, the building a blend of mortar, wood, and decay. There were two windows on either side of a wooden door, with a metal aperture fastened to it. A few patrons were standing out front, while more chatter leaked out from indoors.
“And what will you be up to while I perform this… easy task?” Amos asked.
“Well, since they know my face I’ll be hanging out right here.” He lightly punched his shoulder. “I’m rooting for you though!”
Amos scoffed then shook his head. “Just be ready when I’m done.” He started to walk away.
“And hey!” Kiba called out. “Try not to talk to yourself either! That shit’s weird!”
And I’m ignoring him now. Amos headed in.
The unkempt exterior matched up well with the inside. Five circular tables were strewn before a bar in a dimly lit room. Candles and a hearth to the right were all the light the space was afforded. They added a warm glow to the rustic scene, and to the faces of the spotty crowd within. There were only… eleven people in the room, including the bartender. He stood before an array of bottles on shelves, polishing one in his hands with mindless rhythm. Three others sat on stools around him, while the other seven took the tables instead. The only exits were behind him and a side door to the left.
Now where is Shavur? Amos had only seen him a couple times but— ah, he thought. That’s him for sure.
While most of the other tables had only one or two people, this one had four. Three less than friendly faces around a sniveling little man. He had pale skin and oily brown hair that matted up just before his ears. His sunken cheeks sat beneath glossy brown eyes, and made his chinstrap beard seem more sickly than masculine. He wore a blue vest over a white tunic, with dark brown pants and shoes. At the moment it looked like he was in a heated conversation, or rather he was heated in a conversation that the others felt was overblown.
Looks like they could use a mediator, Amos thought to himself. Let me introduce myself.
He grabbed a chair and dragged it loudly toward the table, before sitting down backwards in it. He crossed his arms over the top and sighed. The table, no the whole bar in fact, grew quiet and looked over at him.
“You must be lost friend,” one of the less than friendly faces said. He had a grimy look with drab dark brown clothes, long hair, and beady little eyes.
“No…” Amos said. “I think I know where I am.” I can’t believe I just used one of his lines.
“Then you must have a death wish,” another of the unfriendlies said. This one was bald and had a scar going down his right eye. He was just fucking ugly.
Amos smiled and let out a laugh. “I came to see Shavur Dal,” he said. Then he nodded over toward him. “Looks like I’m in the right place.”
“Yeah, for an ass beating,” the last unfriendly said. He was just a grizzled brute. Amos would forget him by tomorrow. “Nobody talks to the boss.”
“Does the ‘boss’ not speak for himself?” Amos asked. There were a few bottles on the table, and Amos swiped one and took a swig. He pointed over at Shavur. “I’m very interested in talking to you.”
Shavur perked up sheepishly, then regained his composure. “I-I’m more than capable,” he said, clearly hiding his nerves with a grin. “And you made a mistake.”
“Did I?” Amos asked, as he set the bottle down. “Cause from what I hear you’ve been the one making mistakes.” My God is he sweating? Amos had to hold back a laugh. “Getting your own crew. Not paying your dues.” He clicked his teeth, as he shook his finger in the air. “Very naughty of you.”
An unfriendly was agitated. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“Your ‘boss’,” Amos said. “If you’ll shut your mouth and let me.”
That got the table standing, but not just them. The other tables, the ones at the bar, they all started to stand. Wait a second, Amos thought. Why are all of them men? His hairs began to stand on end. And why are all of them standing?
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Shavur giggled from his seat, because of course he was still sitting. “Like I said,” Shavur quipped. “You made a mistake.” His giggles teetered into cackles as he rocked back in his chair. “I’ve got the coin! That’s all that matters! Shadow men won’t ever get me!”
Amos gawked at that. Shadow what?
“Hey!” Another man came up behind him. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Amos kept his back to him. “I didn’t finish my drink yet.”
The man behind him snarled then went up to grab his shoulder. A ‘couple guards’ my ass. Amos thought to himself. Me and that little shit are gonna have a word when I’m done. The man was a step behind him. But first things first. He cracked his neck.
Gotta clean up.
As soon as the man reached out, Amos grabbed him by the collar and slammed his face into the table. He dropped, nose bloody. On his left one of the others from the table lunged out at him, but Amos stood, grabbed his bottle, and smashed it across the man’s face. As the one to his right went for him, Amos threw off his cloak and tossed it in the man’s face. As he stumbled Amos dropped the broken bottle, grabbed his chair, and brought it down on the blinded man. He crumpled as the chair broke apart, and Amos spun around and smacked the last unfriendly with its remains. Those shattered, and left him with nothing but a stick.
That’s four, Amos thought. Who’s next?
Another victim came charging, but Amos ducked low and threw him over his back. The next came up with a haymaker, but Amos blocked the blow with one arm and bashed the man’s face with the stick. Bone broke against the cudgel and the man collapsed to the ground. Another one came swinging in, but Amos ducked the punch, smacked his liver, then cracked the wood against his chin. The man thudded to the ground then—
Fuck! A chair smacked Amos’ side. He dropped the stick and fell into a table. The bartender stepped up with the chair. You can’t be serious. He brought the seat down again. Move! Amos roared, rolled out the way, and caught an unsuspecting man in the chin. He fell. Eight. Amos ran forward, swiped a bottle off a nearby table, and hurled it at the bartender. It shattered against his face, and he crumpled to the ground. Nine.
The next one grabbed a bottle too and smashed it against the table, brandishing the jagged edge. He swiped and swung, then swung again, but Amos dodged each one. The man came in wide but Amos caught his arm, tripped him around his leg, and sent him thundering into a table. Where’s this last fuck—
Amos toppled to the ground as a fist sent him flying. He rolled over and found his footing as blood dripped from his nose. The fuck? He looked up at the man. You’ve gotta be shitting me. There must’ve been a back door Amos hadn’t spotted before, because a new face had just walked in, and he was big. Probably larger than that fucking tree. Just a thick beard, stupid eyes, and long hair up to the ceiling. Amos snarled at the man. Why do these motherfuckers run so big?
The huge guy cracked his knuckles and started to stride over. “Party’s over,” he said. His voice was deep. “Time to go home.”
Amos spat out some blood as he brought himself to his feet. “Yeah?” He said. “We’ll see.”
He charged the man, but his reach was absurd. He snatched Amos by the neck, lifted him up, stepped forward, then slammed him down onto a table.
Amos gagged as the blow rocked his bones. Can’t let him do that again! He wrapped his legs around big tree’s waist, pulled himself close, then started battering his neck and head with elbows.
The man roared as he struggled to rip Amos free.
“Yeah! You don’t like that shit do you!” Amos jeered, but big tree wasn’t done yet.
He stumbled then charged toward the wall. Amos’ elbows gained fervor. Don’t you fucking dare!
They smashed through the wooden wall.
Onlookers on the street gawked and shrieked as Amos battered big tree, while he stumbled across the road. Amos beat him relentlessly. Just! Fucking! Go! Down! Big tree crashed into the building across the street then toppled onto the floor.
Amos gagged and nearly spat up his insides as big tree fell on him. Gotta… get… up! Big tree was moaning above him. He’d be up soon. I need something now! He looked around the space. They were in a living room. Maybe? There were bookshelves in front of him, a table just before that. Big tree sat up and brought his hands around Amos’ neck. Something! Anything! A hammer sat beneath the debris, and it was within reach. Perfec—
Big tree squeezed. Amos choked and wheezed as the man’s grip grew tighter still. He reached out his hand. Fucking… come on! His fingers tapped the handle. Then he grabbed it and swung.
The hard end battered big tree’s skull and he screamed then staggered back. He tumbled back through the hole and onto the street, barely holding his footing.
Amos stalked after him as he spun the hammer in his hand. “Let me see them hands now!”
Big tree shook his head then swung again, but Amos thrust the hammer forward and crushed the man’s fist. He cried out, holding his hand, and recoiling back toward the bar.
Amos roared and raced up to him, leapt into the air, and brought the hammer down on big tree’s head. His forehead ate the blow like an anvil, and he toppled back through the hole into the bar. He crashed into a table, cracking it in half and lying still in the wooden debris.
Amos looked around the bar. The last bit of protection had fled. And then there was one. He stepped through the hole.
Shavur still hadn’t left his seat, though the table had fallen over after a man crashed into it. He was whimpering in his chair, rocking back and forth as he raked his fingers through his hair. Amos glared over at him. Now then. He started to approach.
Shavur was inconsolable. He was muttering to himself. “No… no… shadow men… shadow men…”
Amos smacked the table with the hammer, and Shavur jumped up. “My money,” Amos spat, as he brandished the cudgel in his face.
Shavur jumped up, reached into a bag wrapped around his chair, and pulled out a sack of coins. It thumped nicely on the table. Was that so fucking hard?
Amos snatched the bag and stalked away from the table. He scooped his cloak off an unfriendly as he writhed. Then he glanced back at Shavur. “Don’t let there be a next time.”
Shavur nodded uncontrollably and Amos stalked away. Now where the fuck is this kid?
“Oh Shavur.” It was Kiba, but that was— what the hell’s he doing behind the bar? He popped up and leapt over the counter.
“I tried to warn you Shavur,” Kiba said as he approached him, until at last he leaned in and whispered in his ear. “The shadow men work for me.”
Shavur shrieked then crumpled into the fetal position, as Kiba laughed then walked away. It was kinda sad. Amos might’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so fucking pissed. He walked over to him.
Kiba smiled— smiled!— as he approached. “Nice work!” He said. “I knew you could—”
Amos snatched him up by the collar.
“What the fuck?!” Kiba shrieked but Amos wasn’t having any of it.
He dragged him across the street through the gossip and stares and despite Kiba’s protest, brought him to a nearby alley, then slammed him against the wall.
“‘What the fuck’?!” Amos snapped. “You’re asking me? I’m asking you! What the fuck did you send me into?!”
Kiba grimaced under Amos’ grip. “A situation I knew you could handle.”
“A situation I— that was the whole fucking tavern! And I thought you weren’t going in?”
“I didn’t want to miss the show.”
Amos pressed him harder against the wall. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
Kiba held up a small leather book. “How about… because I just saved… the fucking day.”
“With a little book?!”
“Led—ger.”
What? Amos dropped him. Kiba quickly rubbed his throat as he coughed and wheezed.
Amos looked back at the book in his hands. “That’s—”
“The super secret ledger of Gad’s plain’s flower trading.”
How did— “that’s supposed to be in the archives.”
Kiba cleared his throat again. “And it was,” he said. “But a few days ago Gad got news that spooked him.” He gave Amos a dry look. “I can’t imagine what that could’ve been.” He rolled his eyes.
“Afterwards, he very quietly arranged for the ledger to go to an unsuspecting place, with an unsuspecting ally, who’d just been given some extra coin to buy more protection.” He motioned toward the bar. “And I needed a little distraction to get in there and pick the lock on the shelf, behind the bar, where Shavur keeps his new ‘wards for shadow men’ that he got from Gad… a few days ago, in fact.”
He gave Amos a dry look as he brought himself back to his feet. “And now, we have leverage.” He brandished the book. “Now we have bait.” With a huff he dusted himself off and slipped the book in his pocket. “Let’s go catch a Gad.”
Amos looked him over, incredulous and sore. “Fine. You got the book. Good for you. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.”
Kiba scoffed then shook his head. “You want to know why I did it? Because you needed a reality check! You attacked the garrison! The garrison! Alone! And you expected that shit to go well?! You could barely handle a dozen drunks, but sure, why not try to fuck up thirty guards? What could go wrong?!”
“I can handle myself.”
“No, you can fucking fight,” Kiba said, as he stepped up to jab his chest. “But as has been demonstrated twice now, you can’t take on all of Dargas. You want Gad? We can get him, but don’t be so stupid, or Gad will get away with everything! I can’t live with that!” His face was flush and full of anger. His breath came out heavy and irate.
Amos said nothing at first. Then— “what about the guard?” He asked. “I won’t get far like this.”
Kiba took a breath as the anger slipped back into his past, and he returned to his jovial self. “They’re not coming,” he said, “Honestly, wasn’t even that hard. They already had stand down orders nearby.”
Amos said nothing and groaned. I don’t like it, he thought, but this is a start. He tried to walk, but stumbled then caught himself again. Kiba strode over to catch him too, but Amos just waved him off. “Don’t give me that shit now!”
Kiba threw his arms up and backed away. “Fine!” He said. “Then what’re you about to do? We should make our next move before Gad has time to prepare.”
“I’m tired.” Amos said. “I’m going to rest. Need to lie low.” He sucked his teeth and gripped his side as pain flared all over. Come on! I’m not done yet! With effort, he got himself limping out of the alley. Kiba followed close behind.
“I’ll be back here in two days,” Amos said, sucking his teeth as he slipped on his cloak. “Get your little plan together by then.”
Kiba smirked. “Don’t worry about being here,” he said. “This place will be crawling with guards then.” He started to head the other way. “In two days I’ll find you.”
With that the two of them went their separate ways, and Amos slunk off into the crowd.