Cleo was sitting on a stone pier, staring at her hand and feeling conflicted. She was holding her last coin and trying to fight the hunger, pushing back the time she would spend it. Paying for her sustenance was a new experience for her. She had probably not used her funds at their best capacity. But the Lady could not be expected to shop for food as well as commoners did, could she not?

Since the chaotic night of her escape, she had walked the streets of Gravelroy in search of shelter. Cleo had put personal quests on hold, judging her basic needs more pressing matters. She had searched frantically through the slums, trying to find Ben's home. But the hundreds of rotten, wooden shacks had all appeared the same to her eyes. The Lady had pitied the people living in them at the time, only now she was not really in a better situation. She had wandered aimlessly in various parts of the city afterward, barefooted and pondering where to spend the night.

Finally, bleeding feet and exhaustion getting the better of her, she had crashed under a porch. Nightmares had assaulted her during her sleep, twisted visions of brother Gregory in a crimson pool. The waking call had been welcome then, however rough it had proved. A kick to the ribs from an angry tenant and some yelling scared her away. The young woman had later gone to investigate the list, looking for her mysterious visitor. Most of the names were known to her, so she had spent the morning hovering in front of their houses. Cleo had hoped that seeing the man's face would trigger some recollection, it seemed to be the way her memory worked. Her past was like a great hall with many closed doors, each requiring the right key to unravel its secrets. Nothing had come out of those inquiries so far.

Here she was now, tired, hungry and desperate. Like the day before, the Lady has been waiting for Ben since noon, spending her time trying to decipher Chaffaud's scroll. Its secrets were beginning to give her headaches, so she decided to hide it back under her robe. What was the cursed thief doing, she wondered. Cleo had left him the simplest note she could think of. The scoundrel could not read, so she had carved him a boat next to a sun crossed in the middle. Surely, even him could deduce that she would be waiting on the harbor at midday. Would he think of looking for the message in the right location though, under the lid of her cache? It had almost been two days now, soon would come the time to start hunting for a place to spend the night. She sighed and stood up.

Cleo went to the docks, her eyes scanning the busy crowd for a quarry. She went through it difficulty, fighting her newfound aversion for human contact. Hoping as she struggled that no one would notice the dried blood on her robe. Trying to scrub it off with her broken knife had only managed to create more holes in her garment. Another worry she had, was her face. Hiding it under her mane had worked so far, but the trick would not stand against closer inspection. Cleo's body began to fail her, growing weak and frightened. She altered her course towards a less populated area, in order to avoid a panic attack. The Lady rested in a side street against a wall, gathering both nerves and wits.

Cleo perked up and began her chase, she had found what she came for. A man, aiding his walk with a cane and wearing filthy rags. Her former adventure finding a shelter having proved itself a disaster, she had admitted her ignorance on the topic. Now she had decided to rely on professionals, thus the Lady was following a homeless person. She stopped short in a narrow alley when he turned to face her suddenly.

"Oy! If you're looking to rob mi, you must've hit your head some. Ain't got a copper on miself." The beggar scowled.

His appearance startled Cleo for a moment. She was not expecting a comely man but still, the view of him made her gasp. He was not old, he was ancient rather. His face was a tanned and leathered hide, sprinkled with pox marks. A few strands of white hair were standing alone and defiant on his scalp, imitated by the last two teeth in his mouth.

"My apologies for disturbing you. I was only hoping you could indicate me a shelter for the night. I find myself in quite the desperate situation... as you can see, and I..." She blurted, and put out both hands in a show of harmlessness.

"Oy. Jus' say you wanna sleep. No need to spin mi a tale. Come now, on with it." He cut her short.

The old beggar went back on his previous path, gesturing for Cleo to trail behind. She hesitated, her idea was only to tail the unknown man, scouting for a refuge. But accepting his invitation could be dangerous, in many different ways.

"I ain't gonna hurt you, lass. You prob'ly walk faster than I run miself." He said, sensing her hesitation and indicating his lame leg with his stick.

For a lack of a better option, the ragged woman went on. Their destination had not been far, it took the pair of vagrants only a couple minutes to reach. The lady escapee was now standing before the entrance to a sewer tunnel, staring at an uncanny assembly. Its members were a sorry sight. They wore tattered, worn-out clothes and showed more filth than skin. Their respective ages were indiscernible for they all missed teeth, hair, or even limbs in some cases. Sitting under the stone archway, the mendicants talked with each other, unconcerned of her arrival.

Cleo steeled herself and entered the tunnel, ignoring both foul smell and dampness. She did not have the strength to find another sanctuary for the night, and having a roof over her head was progress. The young woman considered the drugs in her bag, wondering how long she could last before consuming some. Ben had told her the weeds were valuable, so using them in front of her current company could be a dangerous idea. Instead, she sat away from the beggars in a corner. The elder gave a frown, before signaling her to come close to the rest of the group. Cleo shook her head and lit a candle. The Emperor's scrolls would keep her company.

Later, having given up on piercing its cipher, the Lady fought the need to sleep. She was scared of her new neighbors of course, but she dreaded the dreams her slumber could bring even more. The air was getting colder now, and Cleo glanced with envy at the entangled mass of sleeping bodies. She grabbed her knees with her arms to rest her chin, watching the darkness thicken and resisting the chill. The young woman could not bring herself to join the others for warmth, feeling repulsed only at the idea. One of the many scars the monster left her, Cleo reflected, would she ever truly heal?

An eerie chorus of snores and moans rose from the beggars an hour later, like a pauper's lullaby.

****

"Heard some lord's house been burnt." A crackling voice rose her. It was dawn, she observed through sleepy eyes.

"Folks said 'was Chaffaud's." Another wrinkled tone added.

"Oy! That'll teach them bastards. Prob'ly the Parkhat got pissed at the cunt for speakin' up." The elder said. Various grunts and snorts agreed.

It must be some sort of morning congregation, Cleo thought as she woke up, one the elder presided. Her comrades kept talking animatedly while she studied them. After a cold and putrid night, Cleo was beginning to feel a measure of respect towards the beggars. They have been enduring this for years, if not most of their lives, and still they showed more spirit than her after two days. The Lady found in them a strange sort of pride, as if resisting famine and roofless nights were their godly trial. The mendicants were spitting in the face of hardships, and at the one of nobles' too, for they hated her kind. Her poor comrades looked at the underworld king as their hero, fighting the rich in their stead. Cleo wanted to object that he was only another form of tyrant, however romantic and mysterious he sounded.

"I hear the shiny lad is comin' back to the empire."

"Who?"

"The famous guy, you know, the big hero."

"Right, them sailors say he was on a crusade with them Templars. In Pythis or somethin', I think it was. 'Tis on the other side of the sea." The ancient said. He appeared to be their leader, or at least the rest listened to him with reverence.

The news stunned Cleo for a moment. Then, unable to restrain herself, she went outside. She flew to the other end of the narrow street and reached the docks, before staring at the bay expectantly. Perhaps Brother would sail these waters soon, she mused hopefully. She reviewed the possible sea routes of such a voyage in her mind. The most traveled ones should take her sibling dozens of miles away from Gravelroy's port, and sadly, away from her gaze. A thought hit her: the communication found in Chaffaud's study. A ciphered message sent by the Emperor, little time before his Majesty's army passed these very coasts. Nothing suspicious, merely boats carrying troops back to their homes. Until a small change of course, only a couple days before, could take the Empire's fleet right into the port. The surprise and destruction would both be immense. Cleo began pacing up and down the alley as she studied her hypothesis.

Stolen story; please report.

Such a plan seemed possible to her, it was simple and relied mostly on surprise. But then, why risk writing about the scheme, if a rapid detour during an inconspicuous voyage was all it took? If taking Gravelroy only required a fleet and an army, there would be no need for plots. Cleo bit her lip as she was racking her brains. There should be something the Emperor had asked from Chaffaud, a deed necessary to the manoeuver's success. A deed such as opening the gates, or securing landing in the bay, she clapped her hands at her conclusion. Cleo would have to study the City's defenses to reach a conclusion. Her stomach growled loudly, snapping the Lady out of her conjectures.

"Oy. That's the call for work mi just heard." She turned towards the voice. Cleo realized she had been walking from one end of the alley to the other as she was thinking. She had been ignoring her surroundings while frantically talking to herself. The elder had been watching her all the while, seemingly amused by the scene. The Lady coughed to hide her embarrassment.

"Going to start on the job miself, wouldn't mind some company at mi old age." He beamed a disturbing array of missing teeth at her.

"I am afraid I must decline your offer, sir. I have other obligations for the day." There were a few names left to cross on the church's list. She could also imagine more appealing proposals.

"You're not going to obligate much on an empty stomach, lass. You could learn a thing or two about hunger from an old beggar like miself" He winked.

Cleo grasped her last coin, pondering the offer. Refusing useful knowledge, however distasteful it was, only to protect her pride would be silly. As seemed to be his habit, the homeless man had begun walking ahead without her. The Lady had a few hours in front of her before attempting to see Ben once more, so she decided to follow.

"Does your trade have to take place in a particular location?" Cleo asked as she caught up.

"Some streets are better than others, why?" He answered.

"There are a few addresses I desire to check. I would be obliged, were we to practice my begging near them."

****

Cleo was standing on a pier at noon, staring at a sleeping figure, her emotions conflicted. She should feel relieved, but the sight lying in front of her was infuriating. The morning had only brought her a couple copper coins and names crossed off the list. A few rude observations from the elder as well. The Lady's patience now growing thin, she decided to kick the scoundrel.

"Hey... What the heck... That hurt..." Ben sat up on the ground, drowsy.

"I see some people can sleep without a care in the world, while others have to spend their time homeless and starving." She said acidly.

"Cleo!" His eyes went wide in surprise.

"How kind of you to present yourself at the meeting, however late you did. I suppose it took your tiny brains two days to figure out my message." She remarked dryly.

" 'Tis dawn already?" He glanced around in confusion. "Waited fer ya all mornin', then I fell asleep... Hold on, yer drawin', it meant dawn right? Was like the sun when it shows up on the horizon..." He rambled.

"A sun crossed in the center obviously meant half a day, hence noon... Please do not tell me the reason I waited two days is that you misunderstood it?" She refrained herself from screaming.

"What? No, got it last night. Lots of folks lookin' fer ya by the way. There were soldiers at the church and I couldn't get in. Wait, them talked 'bout murder, ya a'right?" He stopped in his ramblings, looking concerned.

"I killed the beast, yes." Cleo said defiantly.

"Damn, it was dangerous, ya shoud've waited for me." He scolded her. She could not help but agree, she had almost died that night. But she tried to hide that fact, keeping he stare hard. "Well, heck. It worked out." He finally said.

Ben's reaction was not the one she expected. He seemed rather impressed despite his first objection. Cleo felt a little better. The deed had needed to be done, she was convinced, but The Lady had feared the consequences. Being a known murderer was no small thing. Perhaps as a soldier, Ben did not really care about such things.

"I suppose it explains the city watch asking around at the church." She remarked.

"Wasn't no damn watchmen. Chaffaud's soldiers, those were."

"Why would the councilman be interested in my case?" She frowned.

The young woman was taken aback. She did not see any direct connection between the Lord and her. He had ties with the empire yes, but what could he want to do with her? Was she to be a hostage against the incoming attack or protected from it? Her head felt heavy at the increasing number of mysteries she had to unravel.

"Dunno. Bastards stayed at the madhouse the whole time. I had to ask Brownie for help to get in and find clues." He paused seeing Cleo raising an eyebrow. "He works for the Parkhat."

"You asked the underworld king for help?" She almost shouted out loud in surprise. Surprise and a little fear.

"Had no choice, wasn't gonna fight half a dozen soldiers alone. Dunno how the guy did it, but he got me inside without problem. Probably threw a handful of coin around, I hear the guy is loaded." Ben shrugged.

Cleo was anxious at the news, the Parkhat was an intelligent man, he could deduce her identity from the situation. The crime king could want to use her for his own ends. Together with Chaffaud and the citywatch, it would mean that a third entity was after her. She felt overwhelmed and powerless. The young woman needed allies, ones powerful enough to help against such mighty forces. The thief in front of her seemed an unreliable choice, he was working for a potential enemy now.

"Everythin' is a damn mess anyway. Chaffaud is pissin' his pants scared, got dozens of soldiers protectin' him and searchin' the city. Long coat is upset about the battle in the church, sayin' the councilman is goin' to respond recklessly. Mae thinks somethin' big is comin' up, somethin' real bad. Anyway what I'm sayin' is, I need them letters, and fast." Ben held out his hand after his frantic explanation.

That made Cleo freeze. Her suspicions about the Emperor plotting to take the city were growing worryingly. It made the scrolls tugged in her robe feel heavier. Cleo hesitated to give it to Ben. The city was facing danger, plunder would be sure to follow an invasion. But warning someone about it would mean betraying her country, and her Brother most of all. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"I am keeping the scrolls on my person, I would need privacy to..."

"Jus' pull them out, lost enough time, gotta go back quick, Mae is waitin'." Ben cut her off, impatient.

From out of her garment, Cleo took the missives out and handed them to him. He frowned when seeing she has kept one.

"I took it from the church, it is a list of visitors, nothing to do with Chaffaud.” She explained, and Ben frowned. “Were you to count them, you would find one too many." The thief verified her claim.

"A'right I guess. I have to hurry up now, the damn hood is waitin'." He stood up. " Where you stay at?"

She considered telling him about the sewers, but decided against it. A lot of people currently searched Gravelroy for her, and Ben could tell her address to its most dangerous resident.

"Ya can sleep at Mae's if ya want. She's at Brownie's place on the docks for a while. 'Tis good, she's in bed with a doctor caring for her, even if there are thugs watchin' the door. Anyway, there's a bed and roof fer ya in the slums.” He proposed. “Might be a bit windy though, since the door broke when the Parkhat's men attacked us."

"I thank you for the generous offer, but I will manage on my own." She did not fancy staying at a place known by the crime king.

"What if I have to see ya? Ya got enough food? Reckon’ I got some left. Here take this, barely got any mold on it." He said, holding out a piece of bread to her.

"You will find me here, at the same hour, if I am ever in need of your assistance."

He nodded before leaving in haste, waving his goodbye. Cleo was alone now she thought, watching him leave, and a wanted fugitive. She needed to stay alive, gather more information, and all this without allies. Her hand tightened on the one scroll she was holding. She had to stay strong, soon Brother would arrive.