Richard Tudor

I had come in earlier than usual, today. Dunno why, but I hadn’t been able to sleep all that well, the lumps and bruises I had gotten from my little tussle with the fox kin had ached all night and when I had finally nodded off, I had woken again within minutes. Grumpy and hurting, I had carried my sorry ass to the tavern and ordered a generous amount of the universal antidote: whiskey. Before the sun had completely risen in the east, I was well into my third glass and I was starting to feel better. Not exactly hearty, but strong enough for another round with whatever idiot thought he could earn a quick coin by trying to kick me from my throne. Mordred had been the first one in a long time who had given me a run for my money and I didn’t think I was going to encounter a similar challenge, any time soon. How bad could my luck be, after all?

The morning had passed as always, whores and other late night workers coming in for a drink before they turned in for the day. The most recent gossip was exchanged but I only listened halfheartedly, mainly focused on my own troubles. The conversation I had had with Mordred had made me restless. I hadn’t said much back then, but truth be told, some of what he had said had struck a chord. I was stuck, stuck in a pit of garbage I had been wallowing in for so long I had already forgotten that I had promised myself to only stay for a few weeks. But one thing had always followed the other and with my gormless brother, running around and risking his neck every single night, it just never had seemed like the right moment to move on.

Brooding, I spent most of the morning staring into my glass and downing one after the other. The regulars knew me well enough to keep away, when I was in this mood and the newcomers were told quickly enough. And the more adventurous crowd, I managed to scare off with a single glance. The art of the stink eye was one, I had perfected over the years and most people were sensible enough to heed the warning. That was, until the door open around 9 and a foreboding silence filled the tavern.

Curious, despite myself, I raised my droopy eyes from my, I didn’t know how many it had been, glass and stared at the door. Within an instant, I was wide awake, anxious, happy and somewhat surprised, all at the same time. Four, or five, depending on whether or not you wanted to count the animal, newcomers had just made their way into the bar and I recognised two of them. The black tailed kitsune and the silver fox on his shoulder, I had seen before, but I couldn’t imagine whatever Mordred might be looking for in this place. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected to see him, ever again. Judging from his expression, he wasn’t here for shits and giggles, though.

The two girls he had brought along were a revelation. I’d be lying, if I claimed I had ever seen more beautiful creatures. While I had already known that he was a pretty boy, it had never hit me as hard, since I just didn’t give a shit about the looks of a man. But those two… anyways, they were definitely of the same race, their tails and ears were a dead giveaway and if I had been forced to bet, I would have put my money on one of them being his infamous sister. Probably the dark haired lass. There was something in her posture and her gaze that reminded me of him, but I could just as well have been wrong. Especially with just how… magical they looked.

I had never seen a fey before, but with their huge, glowing eyes and the way the light seemed to dance around them, they reminded me of the stories I had heard. No wonder the boy had trouble with his self esteem. I wouldn’t, most likely, have done any better, if I had been in his shoes. Even from a distance, their presence was something I could feel, quite literally, and if magical strength was as highly regarded in their culture as it was in ours, I understood why he had been moping.

And then, there was the child. Another kitsune, with a veritable foxtail who seemed about as confused as I felt. She was clinging tightly to the dark haired woman, her eyes roving across everything that caught her fancy, as if she had never been in a tavern before. When she spotted me, she tugged on the hand she was holding and pointed me out, prompting me to act.

With a grin, I raised my arm and called out to them: “Mordred, yah rascal! Have yah missed me that much a’ready? Come ‘ere! Have a drink with us and bring yah ladies along.” I didn’t expect much, maybe a wave or a smile, but when their faces turned towards me and the weight of their gazes settled onto my shoulders, I couldn’t help but gulp. Why ever they had come here, it definitely wasn’t for social reasons. For a moment, the thought of running away crossed my mind, but I didn’t think I could have lived with the shame. A mighty fighter, escaping like a weasel from the presence of two girls, a child, and a slip of a boy. I already knew that they could probably wipe the floor with me, but still, I couldn’t very well act like a quivering maiden and keep my reputation in tact, could I? Besides, I hadn’t done nothing to them, so why would they even want to start a fight? Shaking my head, I motioned for the barkeep to add three more glasses to my tab while they slowly made their way through the almost empty tavern. Mordred seemed relaxed and even somewhat glad to see me, but the two girls… their eyes were icy and didn’t waver from mine, not even for a second. Even the child stared at me as if I was some kind of sea urchin or something similarly unworthy. I felt like a rabbit, when the glowing stare of a predator had settled on it, in the dead of the night. Prey, that would be devoured soon enough. Stop it, I chided myself.

“You’re Richard,” the dark haired one asked when they had come close, her silvery tails swirling trough the air hypnotically, as if she was agitated… or really pissed. Her voice was cute, though.

“That’s me. ‘N who might yah be?” I looked from her to Mordred, who gave me a tiny nod.

“I’m Cassandra, Mordred’s sister. That’s Ahri, my fiancée, Reia, my little sister and my brother and you are already acquainted, as far as I know. We’re… looking for John. He’s your brother, isn’t he?” Ah, hell no! What had the bastard done now? They didn’t look look like they wanted to share a cup of tea with him and the way Cassandra’s lips had curled when she had spoken his name told me enough to become wary. If they met him, they’d rearrange his features, at the very least. Which put me in a decidedly tough spot. I didn’t want to get on their bad side and if I was only considering my sympathies, I had to admit, the three of them were easily much better company than the moron of a brother, I called my own. Still, blood mattered, didn’t it?

“No point in denyin’, ‘s there? Why? Wha’ daya want from ‘im?” She shrugged and tossed a pendant onto the counter. When I leaned forward, I saw a hammered, broken wheel, made form blackened iron. A shape I had seen before. Most of us, who spent their lives on the streets, had.

“We’re looking for information about the pendant and where it’s coming from. I’ve been told, your brother is one of those, who hand them out. I want to know where he gets them and how long he’s already been using them.” I gingerly picked up the little thing and cast my gaze around the tavern but no one was stupid enough to listen in, at least openly. Even the dumbest drunk had realised that those three were dangerous and not in the I’m going to beat you senseless kind of way. No sir, we didn’t have much experience with powerful mages, but even a blind man would have felt their presence.

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“‘N that’s it? Just a little talk,” I inquired. It was her turn to shrug.

“Depends on his answers.” She didn’t even bother hiding her intentions, it was plain as day that they’d hurt him, badly, if they didn’t like what he had to say. Sighing, I shoved the little gizmo back at her and folded my arms across my chest.

“Sorry, then, ah fear there ain’t much ah can do for yah.” Her eyes narrowed but before she could reply, Mordred spoke up:

“Richard, please, think again. She… we will get the information, one way or the other. Why don’t we stick to civilised means? Let us buy you a drink, or even a dozen, talk amicably and then, we’ll be out of your hair. There’s no need for anything else, is there?”

“Are you threatening me, lad,” I spluttered, even though it was more for show. Of course he was. Still, my exclamation got the attention of everyone around and the barkeep, Oli, was already reaching for his trusted cudgel, as much good as it was going to do him. Mordred didn’t even bother looking around and simply inclined his head, an almost sad look in his eyes.

“Yes, I think I am. Look, this is personal. Very much so. I like you, I really do, but if I have to, I’m going to tear this whole place apart and that’s not even considering what those two,” he indicated the two girls, “would do. They don’t give a rat’s ass about you or the rest of the people here and the only reason they’re not already proving my claim is, that they don’t want to show their darker side in front of the child. But trust me, they will, if it becomes necessary.”

“Ah fear we’re at an impasse then, cuz I ain’t gonna give up me family,” I said stubbornly.

“Well then, there’s…” while his sister had spoken, I had felt something like pins and needles crawling all over my skin and her eyes had begun glowing more brightly. I swallowed dryly.

“Cassandra, stop.” Mordred put an arm on her shoulder and the eerie light in her eyes diminished. “There’s no need for this.” He turned to me and asked: “what would it take for you to talk? Money? A promise that we won’t kill your brother?”

“Both would be a start.” I didn’t intend to sell him out, but if I was going to spill the beans, I might as well make some coin off of it. And frankly, I didn’t know but I could image how much trouble it would be, for four magic users to pry into my mind. Still, I wouldn’t give in without a fight. Which made me think… “and a rematch. Ah don’t care if it’s against yah or one of them girls, but if yah can beat me again without yahr magic, ah’ll tell yah, what yah want ter know.” He eyed me critically, especially the improvised bandages, I had still wrapped around my arm.

“Are you sure? You haven’t even recuperated from our last bout.”

“Tha’? Tha’ ain’t nothin’. So, how about it? Who of yah is going to get a good kickin’?”

“No magic? I guess that would be me, then,” the platinum blonde announced. It was the first time I had heard her speak. Her voice was smooth and velvety, like silk, but still imposing, regal.

“Ahri, wasn’t it? If yah insist. But ah gotta warn yah, I ain’t gonna go easy on yah, girl or not.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, either way,” she replied with a steely smile that showed her sharp canines. “Cuz I won’t, either.” Mordred looked at me with something close to pity in his eyes. I tried to ignore his stare and asked brusquely:

“Now, we know wha’ happens if yah beat me, but if ah beat yah, what then?”

“Name your price,” Casandra answered immediately, without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”

“A wish then,” I said. “Once ah’ve thought of somethin’, ah’ll tell yah.”

“Sure,” Mordred told me, “A fair warning, though, she’s much better than I am or most likely ever will be. You don’t really stand a chance.”

“We’ll see about tha’. Come on then, lass. The ring’s over there. Give us a good show, will yah?”

“With pleasure. No scratching, biting or tattling to mommy, though,” she said with a teasing smile. Normally, I’d have answered with my fist, but it didn’t struck me as the best idea to start a fight without any rules. I’d just have to deal with it. It probably wasn’t going to get any better, once the lass had wiped the floor with me, anyways. And I wasn’t stupid enough to truly believe in another outcome. I’d still try my best, of course, but if she really was that good… I hadn’t even managed to beat the boy, now, had I? Well, maybe I was going to get lucky. And if not… at least I had tried to put up a fight before handing over my good for nothing brother.

“Jus’ ter be clear, then. Ah win, ah get a wish. Yah win, ah get a promise yah won’t kill ‘im and a sack of coin, then ah’ll tell yah where the mongrel is hidin’.”

“Sounds about right,” Cassandra replied. “Will your friends,” she circled her head, indicating the screamingly quiet tavern, “also be able to live with our agreement?”

“They’ll have ter, don’t yah boys?” A resounding aye was my response and old Oli started cleaning his glasses again, his hands well away from the club under the counter. Quickly enough, everyone present slouched over to the improvised fight rigging. There were no bets going on, yet, since the bookie wasn’t around, but as the always active entrepreneur, Oli seized the chance and got a pool going. From what I could hear, while I made my way across the floor, the odds weren’t in my favour. Not that I begrudged them their assessment, I wouldn’t have put my money on me, either. Especially after the last time, I had tried my luck against a kitsune.

Within minutes, the slip of a girl was facing me across the creaking, dirty planks, while the crowd around us slowly became agitated. Only the kitsune remained quiet, silently watching the proceeding from one corner. None of the other patrons had dared come close to them, so they could watch in relative peace and quiet. Good for them, the patrons that was. I couldn’t imagine, the beast kin would have appreciated a half drunk bozo approaching them and how they would have reacted was for anyone to guess. But I imagined a friendly conversation wouldn’t have been it. More likely, there would have been another fight that hadn’t been properly announced.

“Yah ready,” I asked and tossed away the filthy bandages, pickled in every drink I had had.

“I am. Last chance, are you sure you want to do this,” the lass asked. Her voice was incredibly low, but I could still understand her perfectly. The others hadn’t, though, except the fox kin.

“Yep. Ain’t no way in hell ah’m givin’ up me brother without a fight and this way, yah can get what yah need and ah can still look into a mirror. Ah’ll still give it all ah have, though. Don’t take me lightly, lass.”

“I’d never dream of it,” she said and then, she flashed across the distance, separating us, faster than the eye could follow. Her foot connected with my already damaged elbow, sending tendrils of liquid fire through my arm. Grunting, I whirled around and tried to catch her, once I managed to drag her to the ground, my weight and strength should provide me with a considerable advantage, but my fist closed around empty air. She had already retreated, her steps light and fluid, like a dancer’s.

“Yah’ re even faster than the boy, aren’t yah,” I mumbled and caught my balance. “But that won’ be enough.” Puffing like an enraged ox, I stomped towards her, arms outstretched. For all intent and purposes, it looked like I wanted to grab her again, but in reality, I expected her to easily dodge to the side, which would position her perfectly for a devastating kick to the middle.

To my chagrin, she didn’t react as I had expected. Instead of slipping away, she caught my arm and somehow slithered through my guard, her knee connecting with my chest. I was winded in an instant but now, she was directly in front of me. Grinning like a mad men, I swung my arms forward to trap her in a bear hug. Once I had her, all her speed would be for naught and I’d be able to squeeze the life from her limbs, at my leisure. But yet again, I was foiled. I felt her tails brushing against my legs and then, she pulled. She didn’t manage to trip me, but the resistance was enough for her to slide through, in between my legs. Once behind me, her slender arm snaked around my neck, choking me. My blood thundered in my ears, like a drumbeat, while a sweeter fragrance, almost like pine trees, entered my nostrils.