-
> Eh, that could’ve gone better, Lear thought pulling the splinter out of his thumb, pressing the blackened nail down to get all the foul blood out. He grunted and pushed himself upright next, his back crackling something fierce and hurting him more than the guard’s sword had.
>
> “You alright there old bones?” He asked his friend and the old fighter grimaced wiping the blood off his blades.
>
> “Reckon I pulled a muscle,” the old mercenary turned bounty hunter and vice versa, at least a couple of times in the past thirty years, admitted.
>
> Same wit retirement, Lear thought. Ye stop and then get back in it all over again.
>
> Bunch of plaguin’ crap.
>
> “That so?” Lear grunted trying to straighten his back and failing. “Where?”
>
> “Everywhere.”
>
> “Good, it’ll spread the discomfort,” Lear teased and they both shared a laugh, the young ranger didn’t much appreciate. Young lads think they’ll get the chance to have a laugh later, Lear thought clenching his jaw, feeling the bones moving weird, where he’d broken it a couple of winters back with a mace.
>
> Not his mace.
>
> “So the priest is holed up in there?” Mark asked them nervously. “A cabin in the fuckin’ woods?”
>
> Lear gathered the spit in his mouth and spat over the leafy branch.
>
> “It’s called a hideout for a reason son,” he rustled and got up sword still in his bleeding hand. “Where cowardly lying scum run to avoid what’s comin’ to ‘em.”
>
> Lots of slain souls weighting that motherfucker down, he thought. Should be slow as all fucks.
>
> “Last one?” Edge queried just to be certain he won’t be doing all this all over again next winter and Lear grunted, his answer one word.
>
> “Living.”
-
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Princess Elsanne Eikenaar
‘Jade Eyes’
‘Fair’ Anne Burton
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-
The Reaper’s Due
Part II
-As long as I draw breath, I shan’t forget it-
The man-sized large torch, built like a side-less bronze oil-fueled lantern right at the center of the watchtower, illuminated the limestone parapets turning them a brilliant white. Elsanne sighed her jade-colored eyes set on the smaller lights gathering across the main gates in the distance. The rest of the city quiet but for the tiny white dots across the docks.
“Is that them?” She asked ‘Bald’ Burton and the tavern keeper, though Burton did dabble in a lot more ‘businesses’ as he called them, hummed sucking at the sides of his mouth.
“They’re fixed on breakin’ through,” he said after a moment of silent contemplation. “But sooner or later they’ll run out of will, or men.”
“What about our injured? Or those killed?” Elsanne asked. “The whole affair is horrible mister Burton!”
“Nothin’ nice about it Anne, that’s true.”
Elsanne placed her hands on the cool flattened stone surface and stared at the patrol marching towards the walls.
“The Bank should never have had the right to hurt those people,” she stated simply.
“Coin does that Anne and the King’s laws,” Burton said. “They are bolder here, since this is another King’s turf and the news won’t travel.”
“Of course the news will!” Elsanne told him. “Everyone will know Mclean & Merck tortured a city to get its hands on me mister Burton!”
“No they won’t,” Burton insisted. “They don’t want you on the throne and they’ll find a reason, or a way to hide their actions. Fight another war for it if they have to.”
“Perhaps getting your people involved wasn’t the best idea then.”
Burton shook his head. “We came here to find another place, a better place for our families. Lord’s Burrow was never meant to be as big as it has become. We are not all Issirs now it’s true but Van Fleet’s family goes back to Reinut and Leona’s mother was a noble lady that loved the sea.”
Elsanne glanced at his wrinkled face. “I thought Vale kidnapped her.”
“Nah, the Captain was young once and not much of a buccaneer, but he had success with the ladies,” Burton replied. “The girl’s father never approved of the relationship, so they boarded a ship out of Caspo O’ Bor to do their thing. Life caught up wit them in the end,” he grimaced and run his hand over the bald spot on his head. “She tried to visit her relatives, but got arrested and the Lord wanted her branded wit the hot iron to spare her the noose.”
Elsanne let out a horrified gasp.
“So he marked her for whoring?”
“Never whored a day in her life,” Burton explained. “Nor did she sleep around and she wasn’t going to bear the shame on her face,” he paused smacked his lips and then added. “So she opened her veins wit a nail, killed herself instead. Vale never was the same after that aye. Wanted revenge so bad of the lords responsible, he ruined himself and killed a lot of people. That’s the real story Leona hates to remember, without all the embellishments.”
Elsanne could see this being more likely, than a pirate attempting a raid on a large port out of hubris, or some ill-conceived sense of valor. Revenge is a powerful motivator. Same as grief. She stared at the distant lights and Burton seeing her emotional grunted.
“You’re the first Eikenaar we got to see up close,” the pirate district’s tavern owner said. “We never ascribed to the fancy name, it’s just what a port the fleet stopped at some point was called. This port. The fleet will come again Anne. It will come for you, not the Princess. You can see beyond the lines and need no laws, or a throne to tell what’s fair. And what isn’t. You are one of us and we are your people.”
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Elsanne walked inside Sen-Iv’s lavish bedroom half an hour later to attempt to rest, but found Sigurd waiting her there with Katers. The Lord of Cole appearing nervous and still in a bad mood.
“You have news?” Elsanne asked and Sigurd signaled for Katers to stand outside the open door before replying.
“They are attacking again,” Kaltha’s Minister of the Interior, among other things, said. Sigurd hadn’t been irrelevant a day in his life, for such a small lord. He’d shaved his head again and oiled it, which made him appear even balder than Burton. “The mercenaries might stop them, but with the way they are killing each other, who knows?”
She’d seen enough of the casualties these past weeks, to need a reminder.
“I sure hope you do,” Elsanne retorted austerely. Sigurd had always been a tutoring figure in her life. Not always pleasant.
The older man grimaced. “I have plans in place to get you out.”
What?
“We can’t abandon those people fighting out there,” she told him. “They’ve taken a great risk!”
“I can’t save a whole town Elsanne,” Sigurd grunted. “Why do you even care?”
Elsanne stood back not expecting his words. “We talked of this. They’ve provided a safe haven for me in my hour of need.”
“Those are fancy words,” Sigurd said. “But your problems won’t go away because you made friends out of a bunch of criminals,” Elsanne narrowed her eyes. “Now, you know I’m right. You had your fun, but there are things we need to do to ensure we’ve equal footing with Lord Anker, starting with a legitimate heir.”
Elsanne gulped down, felt her throat made out of gravel and walked to the nightstand where she had left the silver decanter. Sigurd watched in disbelief as she poured herself two fingers of wine in a goblet.
“I’m not pregnant,” she told him and downed the contents inelegantly, her eyes watering.
“I wasn’t talking about a Cofol offspring,” Sigurd hissed. “Don’t play the fool with me Elsanne.”
“Your grace,” Elsanne said sternly, looking at him.
Sigurd breathed out exasperated. “The moment you have an heir, a male to take the throne after you, the fake baby Antoon is worthless for the next decade or more, even if he makes it that far. You will rule since day one.”
Elsanne licked her lips, tasting the sweet wine and placed the goblet on the nightstand, before replying measuring her words.
“I’m still married to Radin.”
Sigurd snorted. “I’ll draft a dissolution of marriage right now. Use the war in Raoz as a reason, no one will bat an eye. It was a contract, they’ve broken it. All it needs is my signature and yours as an heir.”
Elsanne breathed out slowly.
“Say you do that, I can’t produce an offspring out of thin air Sigurd, nor I’m in a state to look for another husband before I’m free of my current one.”
“What’s your state got to do with anything?” Sigurd snapped unable to control himself. He sucked air in and kept it for a moment to calm down, before adding. “I know you Elsanne. Your mind is wandering, so don’t play these games with me.”
Elsanne blinked not expecting it and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“That’s not true,” she gasped.
“Bah, I’m not blind,” Sigurd dismissed her excuse. “But I can be understanding given your age. All you have to do is set your sights on something appropriate.”
“Set my sights…” Elsanne murmured and placed a hand at the opening of her collar, felt the heartbeat under the tips of her fingers.
Sigurd sighed deeply and then shook his head disappointed. “You can avoid all the headache, rid yourself of any risk and secure an heir today your grace.”
Elsanne couldn’t believe her ears. “You are not suggesting,” she paused unable to wrap her mind around it. “I’ve listened to you all my life—”
Sigurd stepped forward and took her left hand in his. “Don’t stop now Elsanne,” he told her staring into her eyes intently. “I don’t need your love, just your trust. I’ll do the rest—”
He stepped back, a hand covering his face. Elsanne stared at her own hand she’d just used to slap him. She had caught him hard enough to leave an impression on his left cheek, just under his still bloodshot eye.
“How can I trust you?” She hissed, equally hurt and sickened. “You’ve watched me growing up! You’re like family to me!”
Sigurd grimaced. “Even better,” he told her and Elsanne blinked, the shock still too big to think clearly. “I have secured a ‘caravan’ out of the city. You’ve done it before to come here. We will do the same, leave and head towards Devil’s Cove.We’ll secure a ship to Colle, the Royal Guard is stationed there. This is the time to strike. I have men waiting for us—”
“No,” Elsanne said and stepped back. “I won’t do it.”
“Elsanne,” Sigurd rubbed his forehead. “You’re being selfish.”
“Because I don’t want to bed you?” She snapped not knowing whether to laugh, or cry.
“Think of the throne,” Sigurd argued patiently. Elsanne felt her arms shake so much, she had to clasp them together. “An heir with your name, no lord will risk his title, or line with the baggage you carry, but I don’t mind. I’ll fight for your rights—”
“They are fighting for me right now!” Elsanne screamed cutting him off.
“Those are criminals. How can they give you legitimacy?” Sigurd argued and made to approach her again, but she stepped back.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned him. “Don’t ever touch me again!”
Sigurd puffed out exasperated. “Fine, let us revisit it at a better moment,” he relented and Elsanne recoiled in outrage.
“How about we don’t?”
“Elsanne.”
“It’s your grace for you!” She snapped and turned around furious to leave the bedroom as she couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. Katers blocked the door and she paused to stare at him. The Priest of Oras grimaced as if in pain, glanced at the silent Sigurd behind her and then stepped aside to let her through.
Without a second look back Elsanne run down the stairs, reached the first floor all flushed, found no one waiting there and too frustrated to find it curious, she rushed outside the tower.
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The Princess run out on the street, the early morning light shocking to her eyes, almost blinding. She made it to the edge of the thick wooden fence surrounding the watchtower’s yard and someone yanked her by the neck so hard she almost fainted on spot.
Elsanne tried to scream, her heart lodged in her throat, but she was bodied through an alley, the tall man smelling of horse, sweat and smoke. His long weathered leather coat covered in fresh and still dripping blood. She put a hand on his armoured chest, another around his thick wrist trying to dislodge the suffocating grip on her hurting throat, but failed and the hand just closed tighter on her windpipes in turn.
On and on the man was dragging her, easily overcoming her resistance, beyond the end of the alley and into the ruins before the outer wall of Garth’s District. Elsanne panicked and tried desperately to free herself again, when she spotted the first slain bodies. There was blood everywhere, severed body parts and discarded weapons.
A fight inside the walls, she thought shocked. They are inside, gods help us!
A minute, or twenty later they reached the shade of a large building and the man pushed her inside and into a still standing wall. Elsanne crashed on it, hurting her shoulder and then collapsed on her knees sniffling.
“That her?” Another man asked, his voice strained, but still she could make out the thin Lesia accent. She stared at them through her blurry eyes in a state of shock, her throat hurting her more than her poor shoulder.
“The usurper herself,” the first man replied and this voice she recognized. “Difficult to believe.”
“Anyone saw ye?”
“Too busy looking the other way,” Lear told him, checking outside the destroyed estate entrance. “It’s a matter of time though, afore someone comes looking. I got lucky she run onto me.”
Elsanne tried to get up, but her legs had turned to rubber and the ground twirling around underneath didn’t help her efforts. Lear returned from the entrance with a scowl, grabbed an arm harshly and lifted her up. She tried to punch his face but he moved it aside, raised a calloused hand and smacked her once upside the head. Elsanne went down again senseless, bounced off the cracked tiles and ended up four feet away with a voiceless whine.
The princess had lost consciousness midair, but snapped back into the present upon landing, hurting so much she couldn’t speak, or move.
“Eh, Bolt ain’t coming back from the dead wit that,” the other aged Lorian admonished his friend and Lear grunted, scrunching his face to create even more wrinkles and cracks.
“Stupid privileged people and their fuckin’ lofty ambitions Edge, that’s always the culprit,” Lear rustled glaring at her. Elsanne feared he was about to step on her head with his boots and shuddered.
“Bolt was always goin’ out like that,” Edge told him through his teeth and put a hand on his shoulder. His other arm the man had secured in a custom sling, sleeve torn to make it, the broken bone protruding under the skin at the elbow.
“Can ye make it up those darn ropes?” Lear asked him concerned.
“Ye know I can’t.”
“Not leaving without you old bones!” Lear grunted stubbornly. “Got enough on my consciousness!”
“Ah, but you can’t carry us both up there and you know it,” Edge countered and stood back with a grimace of pain. Elsanne moaned and slowly tried to get up again. “Yer not a young man Captain. It’s the job, same for me and for you as well.”
“Gods darn it Edge,” Lear grunted not accepting it and sure enough turned his hard face on her. “See what you did,” he spat angry. “Good people are getting slaughtered!” Lear turned all mean and Elsanne kicked legs and hands to get away from him still on the floor. “We don’t even have to bring her back whole,” he added thoughtfully.
Elsanne gasped and tried to make a run for it, but her battered body just wouldn’t obey her commands and she collapsed on her knees again half-paralyzed.
“They might not believe you,” Edge told Lear and he snorted.
“Eventually they will,” Lear argued. “They done it afore.”
“Head in a bag?” Edge asked him, his tone reminiscing and Lear nodded unsheathing his sword. Elsanne started sniffling in despair, but stopped when she felt the cold blade under her chin. A nudge and she lifted her dirty face to stare into Lear’s surprisingly sad eyes.
“Have you no dignity?” He asked her. “You’ll cry for yerself but not those you sent to their death?”
“I didn’t…” Elsanne tried to say, fearing to open her numb mouth with the cold steel under her chin.
“Didn’t what?” Lear grunted through his teeth. “Wanted yer nephew’s throne? Had him killed? His mother as well and now you’re plotting to take out his brother.”
“No,” Elsanne croaked.
“Yer lying piece of trash,” Lear growled irate. “There’s a paid army fighting my brethren right now! Did that evil bastard do it? Was it his grand idea? Hmm? Where is he?”
Elsanne blinked, tears rolling down her face, too shocked to reply and having trouble following his reasoning.
“You die here and the civil war is over,” Lear continued, talking more to himself. “No dispute, nothing for the Khan to use to weaken the kingdoms, or the greedy lords dreamin’ of more power and nothin’ for you. But plenty of profit for the innocent people spared your senseless vanity. Hmm?”
“Lear,” Edge said.
Elsanne slowly stood up on shaky feet, feeling so cold the blade following her, always touching the underside of her chin, actually felt hot now.
“I paid no one,” she croaked, not recognizing her own voice, feeling her nose running and her face wet. “I just asked for shelter.”
“Irredeemable lying piece of crap,” Lear grunted and stepped back keeping the long blade under her neck. “You care about no one but yourself aren’t you?”
Was that the truth? Was all this carnage on her?
Did I cause this?
Nobody wants it as much as me, sweet Ralph had boasted, but he was talking about the princess.
I worked all my life to give you that chance, Sigurd had admitted, looking guilty as sin.
We’re in this together, Radin had assured her, but that was a lie.
Anne should be enough, not the throne, Stiles had argued perceptively, but drown in his own fears.
Cut through the noise.
None of you know me, Elsanne thought bitterly, despair turning to anger and a strange serenity.
“Lear,” Edge warned him again, just as she stepped forward against the blade. Elsanne felt her skin burn at the cut, but Lear reacted fast withdrawing his sword and put his other arm out to stop her.
Oh no you don’t, a haunted eyed Elsanne thought.
“DO IT!” Elsanne yelled at him determined, the blood trickling down her long neck. “You’ve done it afore! This time it will be worth it!”
Lear narrowed his eyes, but stayed the sword.
“Captain, she’s not lyin’,” Edge intervened for a third time and the old mercenary grunted in frustration.
“I bloody know it Edge!” He growled and sheathed that long blade. “Fuck’s sake!” Lear seemed to be besides himself and Elsanne who’d no idea what had just happened, brought her hand on her neck and grumbled softly.
“Give her a plaguin’ towel for crying out loud!” Lear grunted clenching and unclenching his jaw, while Edge approached and started cleaning the cut under her chin cautiously. Elsanne ogled in surprise at his scars up close and Edge forced a pained smile on his weathered face.
“It’s alright lass,” he told her, surprisingly kind given all that had transpired.
Elsanne couldn’t tell whether it was professionalism, or that there was a heart under that harsh exterior.
“How is it alright?” Lear protested still angry, ruining that image and bringing her back to the harsh reality. “If she’s not lying then what are we doing here Edge?”
“We came for the thief,” Edge reminded him. “The company is here to secure the contract from a pretender. A different job altogether.”
“Who’s checking on the other party then?” Lear snapped. “Cause she ain’t pretending none and I’ve seen plenty o’ good actors in my life. She wouldn’t agree, if that brat was the real deal!”
“That’s above my pay grade Lear.”
“So say I had asked for the big heads to look into Lord Anker’s claim as well, because I’m a stubborn distrustin’ motherfucker,” Lear started, before pausing to think it through.
“If they had agreed,” Edge said, afore shrugging his shoulders. “It’s a proper shitshow, but she’ll stand down hopefully. If they tried to bullshit you around it, or talk you out of the need for it, then those boys are here to bury the truth, not uncovering a crime.”
“They said the boy had been checked out sufficiently,” Lear added clenching his jaw so hard it must have hurt him.
“How? The Dottore is in Colle singing a different tune last I heard.”
“I really thought they had him bought to spew his poison,” Lear admitted.
“Ye know sufficiently qualifies for ‘bullshit’ talk right?” Edge said with a tired smile.
“Aye,” Lear grunted and closed his eyes frustrated. “Yer getting over that wall,” he added a moment later eyeing his friend.
“What about the girl?”
Lear looked at her that sadness creeping back in his eyes. “Good people died to keep ye breathin’ lass,” he told her with a grimace. “Had a legit reason for it, I reckon. There’re lofty knights comin’ that won’t be as curious as this old sack of skin,” Lear continued pointing a thumb on his chest. “Those shiny cucks have their hands full of titles waiting for ‘em and promises for future glories and such crap. I don’t see ‘em lifting a finger, if it means jeopardizing their chances of ridin’ under the king’s banner. Look to find a way to save these poor folk out there, because if I’m right, their orders are to wipe this city clean.”
Elsanne still numb and aching everywhere at the same time, utterly shocked she was still alive, stood back holding the bloody towel under her smarting chin.
“Aye, ye get it. It’s a plaguin’ relief, shockingly refreshing,” Lear grunted and clenched his jaw. “You have any allies left breathing, see to find them soon. Frankly I don’t see ye makin’ it out of this shithole alive,” He looked to his hands for a moment and then sighed, raised his aged face and returned her questioning stare. “My apologies for yer loss. It is what it is.”
> D’Orsi’s second grand assault lasted a whole day. At the end of it, the mercenaries that had managed to push through against the stubborn defenders were met by a wall of spears and collapsed in disarray. They left behind hundreds of their dead, but had hurt the heroic defenders so much that the outcome of the struggle seemed predetermined. D’Orsi ordered the men rested, sent for the first division that he’d kept in reserve to bolster the two that had been bled dry and planned for a third final assault a day later. With Captain Ramos killed facing the Gallant Dogs fighters on the main street gates, no one disputed his orders.
>
> Lear Hik’s plan, whatever that was, had failed and the infamous former commander of the unit disappeared from the city, originally presumed lost. Speaking of losses, the shadowy criminal known as ‘Nine Lives’ and Captain Ottis were killed during the day long struggle and whatever was left of the Dogs coalesced around the spirited Rollon Martel, who assumed command and rejected D’Orsi’s late afternoon offer to surrender the Princess, with one more of the infamous now quips of the hardened unit.
>
> While D’Orsi couldn’t bring himself to ‘pleasure’ the painted on the banner ‘Dog’s protuberance’, the battered ‘Three Hundred’ were intent on leveling the district if it came down to that. The day of the final attack two new forces appeared on the horizon. The pirate fleet arrived at Eikenport in the middle of the night under the aging ‘Red’ Atterton and the infamous ‘Yellow’ Dawson.
>
> At least fifteen smaller, or bigger ships were added to those blockading the port. The pirates attempted to land under the cover of darkness on the north beach near their docks initially, but D’Orsi sent the second division to block their advance into the city proper.
>
> It’s impossible to count the number of fighters involved in the night struggle that erupted amidst the dwellings and the alleys, or if the local populace revolted against the mercenaries. D’Orsi had to send the mauled third division in as well, the ferocious fighting spreading and engulfing whole neighborhoods. He had to eventually abandon his plans for another morning assault altogether, as Martel took his chance and brought the aggrieved Dogs outside the barricaded part of the city to assault the still preparing first division. With every unit at his disposal involved, the mercenary commander missed the pirate ships slipping into the port and assaulting his galleons moored there, just as the sun started rising over Eplas and the ancient city.
>
> Fittingly, it was during this general uproar that the Raven of Dawn arrived at Eikenport.
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Captain Martel eyed her limping slowly, clenching her teeth stubbornly to combat the jolts of pain. The rest of the Gallant Dogs -barely two hundred strong- about to charge out of the half-repaired barricades standing behind him, resting over their shields. Elsanne blinked at some of the depictions of the company’s banner on those shields and stepped on a relative flat part of the collapsed gatetower to be able to see all of them. To her left, a large group of armed and bloodied civilians waited as well and behind those a crowd that had heard the Princess was the reason for all the horrors of the past month.
Burton pointed towards the docks, the distant roar of the fighting reaching their ears, or perhaps it was just the wind. Behind her the fires still burned the piles of the slain. No prize could ever justify it, in her mind. No reasoning, could placate the aggrieved. No man, or no woman who brought that manner of destruction should ever be forgiven.
“I asked for shelter from the people of this city,” Elsanne started, her eyes stopping at a sniffling Clint and almost losing her words. “A city of refugees, of those less privileged and the abandoned, offered me that which others wouldn’t in my hour of need. A city of outlaws and gentlemen of the high seas, lend me a hand and put a roof over my head. They didn’t have to do it. You didn’t. You brought pain and harm over your families and your livelihood. I don’t deserve your kindness, but these murderers don’t deserve it either. They are not here to punish a stupid girl that reached for more than she should. They are not here to protect the realm, or the people back on Jelin. They are not here to fight the Khan either,” she paused gulped down, her throat feeling like the inside of her boots and then continued trying to keep her voice steady, but failing. “They are here to ensure I’m forever silenced and their crimes swept under the rag. They are here to punish you for helping me. For helping Princess Elsanne. If we fail, I’ll die next to you all before the day is over. If we don’t and the gods spare us, then as long as I draw breath, I shan’t forget it. Not these days, not all of you. This isn’t just a princess empty promise. This is your Anne talking from her heart. I wouldn’t have challenged for the throne,” Elsanne gasped, her voice turning hoarse and too emotional to continue. “Never thought of it, it isn’t in my nature, but by all gods,” she finished and wiped her nose a little embarrassed. “After what I’ve witnessed here, I can’t allow them to take it.”
The crowd roared underneath her and she felt dizzy, her knees weakening and barely managed to climb down the small height. Burton helped her, men and women touching and cheering her on. Mostly sang Anne’s name, but she didn’t mind. Near the watchtower where she had returned to watch the Gallant Dogs depart and to catch a glimpse of what was happening to the rest of the city, with the sun coming up again, Elsanne realized she hadn’t slept at all.
Clint standing next to the entrance stopped her. He had a hat in his hands all roughed up and bloody at spots. The man offered her the hat and Elsanne took a long moment to accept it, realizing who it belonged to. She nodded once, the hat clasped in her hands and tried to smile reassuringly at Burton who was watching her.
Up in the early morning sky a raven croaked flying over them, its shadow appearing huge on the walls of the watchtower and the ground as it circled once, before heading for the funeral pyres.
“I’ll have it cleaned,” the tavern keeper muttered and took the hat from her, scrunching his mouth this way and that. “I have something for the blood. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, mister Burton,” Elsanne replied and wiped her eyes. “Would that be your rum perchance?”
Burton stood back pretending surprise. He glanced right and left to spot anyone listening in and seeing there were plenty of bystanders doing exactly that, gave her his ‘secret’ wink, whilst denying it sort of.
“It’s a trade secret Anne. Not for public knowledge.”
Someone chuckled, another outright called him a liar and Burton offered to have him taste his rum for free someday in the future, by the way of ‘visiting me tavern and even sampling the goods at the big place.’
“What big place?” Elsanne asked perturbed.
“That would be the court,” someone said, seriously considering taking Burton’s offer.
Elsanne frowned, Clint divulged he had a barrel of the stuff outside the stable he was giving away since he’d gotten a bunch of ‘better stuff’, much to Burton’s annoyance and most of those present decided to take the opportunity of a ‘free’ drink despite the early of the hour. It helped their mood improve somewhat and she even smiled at the men’s shenanigans.
A boy standing watch on the tower, poked his unruly head out of the parapets and yelled as loud as he could, just as the small crowd that had followed her was dispersing.
“Riders coming!”
“Where?” Burton asked him and the boy showed him using his spyglass all proud and smiling.
“Beyond the walls,” the boy replied and the smile froze on her lips. Elsanne thought of the large bird from earlier, the hairs on her arms rising. “The side of the desert. Darn lot of horses Burton!”
“Anne?” Burton asked, sounding worried. “What is it?”
“Where’s Sigurd?” Elsanne asked him.
“Sulking inside,” Burton snorted.
“Tell him Kaltha is here,” Elsanne said and breathed out slowly.
“Is that a good thing?” Clint chanced seeing the pensive look on her expressive face. Elsanne wished she could learn to hide stuff from people.
Since she couldn’t really lie, Elsanne told them the truth.
“I have no idea.”
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