“I wondered where you’d gotten to.” Shay takes me somewhat by surprise as she drops onto the step a noticeable distance from me, clearly wanting to respect my boundaries right now even though she’s still sitting close enough to be friendly. Prob’ly she knows me well enough to know I ain’t gonna turn her away no matter what kinda mood I’m in, we’re too good friends for that now. And I could use the company. Maybe I been beating myself up a little too much since we got back, and more so after that interrogation …
Fuck, that didn’t go well. I mean it did, I scared the hell outta that nasty bitch in there and she gave up everything she could, even went so far as to agree to draw us a map o’ the tunnels, ‘least as much as she knows about navigating ‘em. Including the route from the Late Bone to the Playhouse, which is helpful. Although it’s still up in the air exactly what the plan actually is there, so I ain’t had much of an idea what I gotta do for prep. So I’m just taking care of everything instead.
After I left the interrogation I saw Darwyn back to the infirmary, leaving her with the healers so they could try and get her back to fighting fitness again in case we really are gonna go tonight. I still ain’t comfortable about the idea of her coming, not so soon after she took that wound, but she’s insistent, downright indignant about it really, and even Kesla found it hard to really argue too hard about it, the way she got. Although she did insist Darwyn at least catch a few hours o’ sleep after, just to give her some peace of mind. Not that I’m too confident she’ll actually do that.
Meanwhile I went back to my own room, having heard the temple’s staff had gone to our hotel to collect the remainder of our gear alongside our horses to bring here since we’re making this place our base of operations moving forward. Finding my own admittedly spartan luggage waiting for me, I sorted through it for my duffle and, having collected my gear, went in search of somewhere good and quiet for me to set up for my prep-work. I thought about going into the library, finding a quiet corner in there to work, but in the end decided against it. Didn’t feel like a clever move setting up my full armoury on one o’ the big tables in there to give my blades a good polish and sharpen, reckon it would’ve sent the wrong message.
In the end I found this nifty little spot in the endlessly surprising environs of the temple’s uncannily oversized architecture, once again baffling me with the way it’s so much bigger than it has any right to be looking at the building from outside. Like the fact there’s a whole open, grassy space somewhere in the middle of it all. Granted, it ain’t really a garden, there ain’t flowerbeds or even any bushes or little trees, just an open cloister with a stretch o’ grass surrounded by raised white-stone paving, with a pool in the middle. It’s a glorified font really, maybe ten feet across with two foot walls round it, but when I had a look in it before I set up I saw weeds and lily-pads in it, with frogs and coy fish swimming about in the surprisingly clear water. Clearly it’s intended to be a calming, tranquil place, for folk to come and unwind when they get stressed. Seemed the right place for me, then.
So I settled on the edge of the clipped lawn and laid my oilcloth out in front of me, then set the entirety of my collection out on it so I could go over all of it, seeing what might need tending to, and what I might wanna give a courtesy clean anyway, for my own peace of mind. Including the my battle armour, now I finally got it to hand again. I’d made a decent amount of headway by the time Shay found me.
She sets her own more modest pack aside and stretches her legs in front of her, giving arching her back a little as she leans on her arms, shoulders back too. I can’t help watching her as she does it, she’s an incredibly beautiful woman and this seemingly casual, mostly unconscious act is a very sexy thing to watch. Then she catches me looking and I turn back to my own work, frowning in frustration as I try to get my mind off such thoughts again. Honestly I ain’t really in the mood for it right now.
Instead I pick up my rag again and the oil bottle, upending it into the cloth before setting it aside and taking up my sword again. I pause for a beat before starting to polish the freshly honed blade, looking down its length first one side, then the other, one last check for any nicks I might’ve missed. I don’t put the rag to it until I’m entirely satisfied. Not that it’s doing my mood any more favours …
“How are you finding my old sword, by the way?”
I give her a quick sidelong glance after a beat, sat forward again now, stripped down to her under-armour again, and it’s fitted good and snug, fashioned just as well as that miraculous mail she got from Hurrig Stormshield back in Bavat. She looks as striking out of it as in, the way it’s all been put together.
But it’s her face I’m reading now, I can’t help it. It might’ve sounded like a casual, friendly off-hand query, but I’m getting to know her well enough I can read her underlying mood. She’s worried about me now, I’d have to be an idiot not to pick up on it. After what I did in that backroom I ain’t surprised.
“It’s serving real nice, all things considered.” I manage to keep my voice light and level, not clenching my teeth any, at least. “Now I got used to the difference in heft and balance, I’m getting real comfortable with it. To be honest, it’s actually better than my old one, ‘least in terms o’ reach. It’s a real nice piece of smithing. Good as Guild work, even.”
“Yeah, da insisted I have a fine set of blades when I grew old enough for them. He had them made to order, in Hocknar, one of their best forges. A nice family place, they’ve been doing it for quite a few generations, he said.”
That has me grinning, even though I can’t vouch for there being much real humour in it, not right now. “Shit … wouldn’t happen to have been the Merphin shop, would it?”
Shay raises her brows at that. “Impressive guess, how did you –”
“We go there ourselves, they’re real good friends of ours.” I turn the sword over and start on the other side, watching what I’m doing now given how sharp I like to keep my steel. “Kesla’s known ‘em all for years. She says one o’ their ancestors trained under dwarves, in their own forges, so he handed some pretty serious knowledge down the generations.”
“I can see that.” Shay nods, reaching over and picking her pack up again so she can open it in her lap. “Most of my own blades came from there, I’d say. I take good care of them, but honestly a lot of the time I don’t really have to do that much work to keep them keen, this really is almost as good as real dwarven forged steel.”
Nodding along myself, I carefully test the edge with my thumb, giving the blade a gentle flick as I do and listening to the subtle, mildly tuneful little ring it produces. “Yeah, it is. Beautiful work. You’re sure you don’t want it back?”
She watches me for a beat before answering, and I can’t really tell what she’s thinking in that moment. “What, you want to swap it for Ashsong’s blade, maybe? I can’t say I’d be entirely adverse to the idea, this damn vampire steel still makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“Thorin no. No thank you. I handled it enough for one lifetime, I reckon.” I can’t keep the edge out my voice this time, the thought of what I did with it up there in the tavern gives me chills enough to shudder.
Again, she don’t answer right away, looking at me with an even more critical eye now, and I know full well she’s seeing right through whatever flimsy façade I managed to put up before now. She can tell how much on edge I am right now, how little the usual calming process of tending to my steel has managed to dull it. I manage not to crumple the rag in my fist, instead just setting it aside on the step while I pick up the scabbard instead and guide the point into the throat before sliding her former sword home again. Then I have to take a moment to flex my paw before I can draw the long knife again, trying to work the tension out my fingers now I’m suddenly so tight again.
“That’s all right. I suppose it’s like you with my old sword. I am still getting used to it, but … it does serve very well indeed, despite the quirks.” She’s concentrating on her own business right now, at least, although it’s clear enough she’s just going out of her way to make me feel better now, help me calm down some. She starts taking things out her own pack now, producing a cleaning kit and a bundle of rags which she lays out in front before reaching back in, finally coming out with her own tightly bundled oilcloth.
Finally drawing the knife, I look it over for a few moments, trying to use the job at hand to take my mind off what’s not being said right now. I did a decent enough job earlier wiping this clean, but there’s still odd traces of gore from those I killed in the tavern, and I’d be remiss to not give the edge a few courtesy strokes with the whetstone anyway, just to be safe. So I give the weapon a little flip, not really even thinking about it when I do so, letting it spin once in the air before catching it underhand, then again the other way to catch it the right way up again. All while retrieving the dry cloth without even looking for it with my left paw. I catch Shay watching me doing this through the corner of my eye, cocking her brow a little, but she don’t say anything more, leaving me to continue.
We sit as we are for maybe two or three minutes, just getting on with our own work here, me scrubbing at the blade with the rougher cloth after spitting on the stains, while she just starts sorting through her own gear. I sort of watch her do it as I work, mostly out of curiosity, seeing her own collection of blades is more modest but still very well made, and I’m reminded about where she got ‘em all from. Finally she selects one of her longest knives and takes up her own cloth to start cleaning. Meanwhile I can sense she wants to say something again, so I just concentrate on what I’m doing while I wait.
“So, you think the tunnels are the best bet, then?”
Looking up, I find her just scrubbing away at her blade, a subtle frown tightening her brows, almost like she never spoke at all. “Better’n you an’ Kesla going in the front door at the Playhouse. Sounds proper risky, y’ask me. Didn’t she already go there earlier today? I mean if they already know what she looks like –”
“I think Lady Naru’s going to try something, some kind of spell, maybe. To make her look different. Besides, she says they’re not that likely to be looking at her anyway. She says most of those highborn types don’t really look at the Help at these kinds of events, they only have eyes for their own peers.”
That has me chuckling a little, the idea that Kesla could be anyone’s servant. “So she actually agreed to the bodyguard idea, then?”
“She’s definitely big enough. And it means she’ll be able to explain away her weapons with ease at the door. If they do ask in the first place. I mean, they didn’t say anything about that being an actual rule, having to check your arms at the door, so …”
“But you have to leave your armour behind. Both of you. Kesla can’t be happy about that.”
“She’ll still have her jack on underneath everything else. I suspect it’s better than going in naked.” She frowns a little deeper now as she puts down her cloth and takes up her whetstone. “I’m the one who’s going in there with naught but the clothes on my back.”
“Yeah, but you’re the distraction. An’ I reckon you’re gonna be real effective.”
Cocking her brow again, she gives me a look as she ponders me for a long beat. “I’m not sure if that’s really a compliment, Art. Coming from you I can never really tell.”
Grinning back, I manage a decent amount of humour, at least. More than I really feel. “Enough o’ one, I reckon. You’re real easy on the eyes, Shay. You get scrubbed up and pandered and put on one o’ them fancy rich lady dresses and you’re definitely gonna turn a big bunch o’ heads when you go in there. Which is definitely the point.”
The look she gives me as she proper glares now is even colder. “Better get that mind of yours out of the gutter, Art of Shadows. I don’t think either your old flame or your new intended would appreciate this talk about someone you consider a friend.” She points at me with her knife in punctuation.
That has me frowning, mostly just because, now I’m finally working on getting it clear in my head how I feel, I’m a little frustrated she really can read me that well. I mean I suspected, but still … “I don’t mean it like that. Promise. I mean … hey, I got eyes, and you do wear your gear real tight, Shay. I mean I get it, if it fits well it can be real helpful, but … y’know …” I try not to scowl too much as I take up my own whetstone now and spit on it, wanting to just concentrate on sharpening this blade now.
She starts her own sharpening first, but I’m joining her within a few strokes, and soon enough we’re falling into a comfortable rhythm. And now, finally, the work starts to soothe me, ‘least a little. So I go with the steady beat of what we’re doing, letting my breathing settle in time with it, and soon enough the comfortable silence growing between us seems to finally start to do its intended work on my nerves too.
“Ah, there you are.”
When I look up Tulen’s already sweeping our way across the lawn, holding a large platter before her as she navigates round the pool. I can already smell what’s on it, the mouth-watering signature of bacon, sausages, chicken and roast beef immediately setting my stomach to gurgling. To be honest, I’d entirely forgotten about food in the time since we got back from the tavern. But then I had other, much darker things on my mind …
Trying to push that down into the back of my mind, I turn the knife over and look down the line to inspect the edges, checking for any lingering nicks. Nothing major, but then, like the sword it came with, this is uncannily well forged. Merphin steel … I’ll be damned.
“Good afternoon.” Shay has a slight quizzical tone to match her expression as she watches the young wizard approach. “I would’ve thought you’d be with Sessa again, instead of … whatever it is you’re doing.” She looks down at her own knife, frowning a touch as she inspects it close, then sets down the stone so she can pick up the sheath and slot it home again.
“Kesla came to find me a little while ago, to inform me that we have …” She frowns too as she stops a little short of us. “Um … well, at least the beginning of a plan. She wasn’t particularly clear, just said that she was sorry, but she would very much appreciate if I could be of assistance. She said she understood if I wasn’t up to it, but …”
“She had a tone, right?” I venture, trying not to his with subtle second-hand frustration. “Not exactly unfriendly, just …”
“I didn’t want to disappoint her. And Sessa’s awake again, properly so. She’s still not …” She takes a breath as she must try to order her thoughts, and this just makes her frown even more. “She’s still not out of the woods yet, but … she’s well enough, at least, that she knows her own mind again. And she insisted, after Kesla left. She told me that she understood too, that I’d made a commitment, to Gael at least if not the rest of you, and because I was in a position to help, that I really should. So …” She shrugs now, ‘least as much as she can still holding that big load. Sandwiches, looks like. Not exactly a bunch of ‘em, looking at it I suspect she’s been round some o’ the others before she got here, but there’s still enough for more’n just us two.
“Put that down, Tulen.” Shay finally sighs, pointing with another knife now, the twin of the other one. She indicates the open spot on the steps between us. “Sit. Please. I think you might want some of that yourself. I’m sure Art could.”
As if it’s been listening to her as well, my stomach chooses that moment to produce a particularly prominent gurgle. Not for the first time, I’m real thankful I got fur so they can’t see my face flush in response.
Even so, I catch Shay smiling just a little, a cocked half o’ one at least, as she inspects the blade, then simply shrugs before sticking it right back into its scabbard again. Tulen seems mostly oblivious to my embarrassment, at least, but then she’s taking her up on the offer, taking the last few steps before carefully setting the platter down close to me. Then she looks down at her robes for a beat, brushing them off before hitching ‘em a little as she turns round so she can sit down on the far side of the tray from me. Immediately looking over what’s left of the selection before picking one of the substantial rolls up before turning it round a few times between her fingers, frowning again as she just looks at it.
“Y’all right there, luv?” I give her a sidelong look even as I’m reaching out, mostly trusting touch and my sense of smell now to find what I’m after as I make my own selection from the platter. One o’ the roast beef ones, turns out. With mustard, smells like. Interesting.
“Kesla said you found something when you went out again. While we went to the Playhouse, on her little ruse. The distraction.”
Shooting a look at Shay, I see she’s already watching me, wary again. Like she’s being careful reading me, checking if I’m about to break after all. Great …
Again, I take great care with how I present myself as I take a breath, keeping my teeth apart so I don’t hiss when I do it, even if part o’ me want to. “We found a bunch o’ stuff, actually. Maybe a way into that Playhouse, a secret tunnel. And some more prisoners too. One of ‘em was real helpful.” I manage to keep the edge from my voice as I say that last part. Again reminded what I did in that room.
Krakka was on the ball there, at least, but then I had enough presence o’ mind I didn’t cut her too deep, even if I kinda wanted to. She was … she made me angry, sure, and I can’t say she didn’t deserve what I gave her, but … no, Shay was right, what I did was out of order. Krakka may have healed that cut right up in a relative blink, no reason for Shul to find out and start giving me the cold shoulder well as Kesla, but even so … it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I had Gael on my mind, and I was still smarting ‘bout what I did upstairs in the tavern. She got under my skin and I just lost it.
Wanting to distract myself, I take a big bite of the sandwich, hoping I ain’t really lost my appetite just as I found it again. Thankfully the taste alone’s enough to revive what might’ve died, like everything else I had here so far this is also damn fine food. It’s particularly good mustard, not too sharp, but a good accompaniment to the rich, well-done beef, and the rolls are still kinda warm, which just enhances the flavour. I start chewing with gusto now, almost willing this food to work its trick to get my mind back on track too.
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“Yes. She also mentioned that there will be a performance tonight, at the Playhouse. That new play that Hontiresk is so pleased with acquiring. She said you were thinking of using it as cover to get inside.” When I look up I see she’s watching Shay now, and that she still ain’t taken a bite of her own sandwich yet. “Apparently the two of you might be going in the front door? I’m not sure I understood that right, she wasn’t really very clear –”
Shay frowns again as she looks up from what she was doing this time, now going over her armour, it looks like. Thinking about cleaning her own blood and the caked dust from the mail, I reckon. Even though she won’t be using it for this, if she really is gonna go with Kesla’s plan. “She thought it might be clever if I were to attend the performance as a patron, with her as my bodyguard. I understand Cafi Sirsk is setting us up with some tickets, good ones. For the fancy seats, she said. I don’t know what that actually means, I don’t know much about the theatre –”
“Oh, of course …” Tulen don’t exactly put the roll down, but she still lets it settle on her lap, still clutched in her hands, as she nods, sitting back a little now. She don’t seem much reassured, even if she does understand better now. More’n me, anyway. “She means some box seats, with the nobles, I think. That must mean … oh, but that would be foolish. I mean, why would she want to get closer to Hontiresk?”
“That’s not exactly the plan.” Shay finally gets up and starts to move round to the tray now, dusting her backside off as she goes. “While you all sneak your way in, we’re going to try and find a way backstage, once the play’s begun. But Kesla wants to be up there just in case there’s any sign that they might already be onto us, that way if we do have to do anything we’ll already be close to him.”
“But …” Tulen looks up at her with clear worry now while the half-orc just leans forward to inspect the selection, finally picking what looks like one of the chicken sandwiches. She takes a bite while she’s still straightening up. “I don’t think … we can’t cause a major incident in there, the Oceanic Playhouse, it’s … even if we don’t get caught, the Order could still –”
“We’re doing this for Gael, remember?” I speak up for Shay while she’s still chewing, looking down thoughtfully at the wizard. “We know they’re there, her an’ her da, that woman good as said it already. Means those bastards have already fucked with the Order twice now, so if we’re working for ‘em then we’re within our right to do this. Besides, Hontiresk already fucked with the Authority in a major way letting Vandryss pull her shit. This could almost be called payback.”
“Retribution, more like.” Shay offers up a kinda withering look.
“Yeah, well … colour me proper unbothered.” I just shrug back at her. “He asked for it.”
“Are you in?” Shay’s turned to Tulen now, and while she’s looking more stoic now, I can pick up a little hope hiding behind her expression all the same. “Lady Naru’s on board, but we could still do with another mage, just in case things get sporty in there. Which they probably will. Especially if those mercs are there.”
Frowning now, Tulen looks from her to me, then back again, before finally just staring off across the cloister for a long beat, seeming to consider. “Yes. Of course. For Gael, of course I am. I’m just … you know, I’m saying what everyone should at least be thinking. This could cause some serious problems if it goes wrong.”
Dropping onto the step right beside her, Shay just snakes her arm round her shoulder and gives her a little crush, smiling now. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. But as long as we get them back it’ll be worth any repercussions. And frankly, I really don’t care very much about that anyway. It’s not my city, I have no stakes here. All I care about are my friends.”
Tulen looks at her now, considering, then finally lets a sigh go and manages a tentative smile. “Yes. Me too.” She looks down at the roll in her hands, turning it over again, and while she frowns again, the smile stays. “Maybe I should accompany you both. I could –”
“No, Kesla would rather you hung back with the others. She already thought about it, and she knew you would ask. Hontiresk and his people already got a look at her, so while she will be in disguise she’d rather not run any more risks with you too. You do stand out, after all.”
“I do?” She turns to look my way now, a little beseeching now.
“Yeah.” I just nod as I offer up my own opinion. “You really do.”
Turning back, Tulen looks the half-orc over now. “So do you, though.”
Giving me a sharp side-eye now, Shay looks ready to hiss now but just lets it go in a heavy sigh instead. “That’s been mentioned too, but I didn’t go to the Playhouse, so they shouldn’t know me. And I’m going to look …” She works her mouth for a beat, like she don’t really like the words. “Different too.”
“A disguise? Like Kesla? Or …” Tulen gives her one more look over, then her brows rise as realisation dawns. “Oh, right. Because –”
“She’s hot.” I almost chuckle as the words just slip out, and as it is I can’t help a wicked grin.
Tulen’s cheeks darken immediately, while Shay just glares round at me now, looking ready to spit venom but holding back instead. “Oh …” the young wizard breathes, then she cocks her brow, more thoughtful now, even in her bashfulness. “I mean … it’s true. You are. Very attractive indeed. Did Kesla not already –”
“She was a little more … diplomatic with her words.” Shay growls through gritted teeth. “It’s not something I’m used to, but … Lady Naru says she can help me out with that.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure she can.” Tulen nods now. “I could as well, of course. I mean, it’s not really my area of expertise, I’m not really …” She falters again, her bashfulness persisting. “But I do understand the concept. Before the Academy, I was born and raised in a noble household. Long enough I learned some of the expectations that might otherwise have been placed on me if …”
“You’ll be welcome, of course.” Reckon Shay might agree as much just to save her from getting any more flustered. Finally she just gives her another little squeeze, more companionable now. “And it’ll be fun, yeah? Like … I don’t know. I suspect you’d have a better idea about it even so.”
Honestly, it’s all I can do to keep a straight enough face while she gives me a rather hot look now, clearly sensing my amusement. In the end I just take another bite of my sandwich, and after a beat she does the same.
“Does that mean the rest of us are all going to be going in through the tunnels then?” Tulen wonders after finally taking a bite of her own sandwich and giving it a more thoughtful chew. “While you and Kesla forge ahead by … I don’t know, hiding in plain sight?”
I carefully set what’s left of my roll on the very edge of the closest corner of my oilcloth and take a moment to give my paws a careful wipe across my thighs. “Some of us. We’re gonna head in in two groups. Me an’ a few others’ll take the tunnels, but Zul’s gonna try an’ find a way in from the back with the rest. Reckon since you are coming it’ll be a mage with either group, but we ain’t worked out who’s who just yet, beyond the leads. You’re welcome to make your own choice there, if you want.”
Chewing on her latest mouthful, Tulen watches me for a moment, considering now. Finally she quirks a brow. “If you’ll have me I’d be happy to come with you. I should imagine going in through the tunnels makes that the most likely route for us to find where they’re keeping the prisoners, so –”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I nod along. “That’ll be where they’re keeping Gael. Be good to have a friendly face coming along for that.”
That makes her frown, looking down now as she swallows a little more ponderously than I’d like. Making the same connection I already did, no doubt. By tonight, Gael will have been gone three days straight, in the clutches o’ some damn nasty folk, Vandryss especially. I don’t wanna think about the kinda hell they been through in that time, but I can’t help it, and I know her oldest, best friend can’t either. I remember what she said before, that Gael … they ain’t soft, but there’s a fragility there all the same, ‘least enough they might be broken when we find ‘em ...
Gods … I hope that ain’t true, but I know how little that kinda hope’s worth. I didn’t get a close up look at that evil bitch like Shay did, but what I heard from her and Kesla’s enough to let me know we’re dealing with a real monster. We don’t really know what she’s actually capable of, but it’s easy enough to guess. Even though I sure wouldn’t ever want to.
So I just pick the whetstone and knife back up, looking the blade over once more before spitting so I can start honing again. Taking a deep breath as I do it, working on centring myself to regain some calm from what I’m doing. Mindful now I can feel eyes on me again.
Even so, Tulen’s a few drawn-out moments speaking again, and when she does she’s hesitant enough. “Kesla said … when we talked, she told me you found more than just what we talked about there. In the tavern. She … um … she said that …”
Letting the breath go in a long hiss, I keep stroking away at that edge, listening to the sharp little scratch and watching the subtle sparking of rough stone over already keen steel. “I killed Gran.”
Again, I hear her gulp, more pronounced now. More worried. “Yeah … that’s … what she said. Um … are you –”
“Y’know I was actually a little older than him? Maybe a few months, ‘least that’s how they reckoned it, back in the Arrowhead. I mean, they couldn’t really be sure, me an’ him, we were both relative novelties among the foundlings. I mean, Zul weren’t exactly from a common breed himself, but an orc and a bakaneko? That was something else here in Untermer.”
Nobody answers that, and I keep my eyes on what I’m doing, but I can imagine the two of ‘em exchanging a look all the same. Concern writ large on Tulen’s face, subtle but still there in Shay if you’re actually looking for it.
“So there was a time, when we were still growing, when I was actually bigger than he was. I mean, not for long, but even so. Early days, I just shot up, while he was still growing, like, a regular amount. Bigger’n all of ‘em, for a while, the ones born round the same time as us, anyway. He got strong pretty fast, orcs got that proper ropey strength when they’re kids turns into solid hardwood when they grow up, but he was awkward with it back then, hadn’t learned how to use it yet. Would’ve been easy for me to win a fight back then. But I never wanted to.”
Turning the knife over in my hand once, then twice, I inspect it one more time before I’m sure it’s good and honed, so I just put the stone down and retrieve the scabbard, sheathing it again before putting it down and selecting the next in line. I don’t even realise it’s the one I used on Sal until I’ve drawn it, catching sight of a few lingering spots of her blood now, deep in the fuller, one just outside the guard. Can’t help a slight tightening of my jaw seeing that, but I pick up the rag all the same. Still oily enough, looks like.
“Art …” Shay whispers now, her tone wary.
“Didn’t last, of course. I mean, sure, orcs only grow fast as humans, but it’s relative, really. I mean, he started getting big while he was still young, even before puberty. An’ then he just shot up. But by then, we’d already been in training for a while, so he got dangerous along with it. I mean, we all did, but with him …” I suck a harsh breath in with a hiss as I bare my teeth. “So when Yevnik got his pick from our class for prowler training, I mean, of course he grabbed the full-blooded orc. He must’ve thought Winterheart came early.”
I’m bent on cleaning the blade now, working the spit-wet rag into the tough spots the best I can to try and remove those stubborn spots, but I can feel the mood all the same, the concern in the other two. I don’t need to look up to know they’re watching me with open worry now. “It was him getting his claws in, I’m sure of it. Cuz he weren’t born like that. When I knew him, in the early days, when we were kids, Gran was a good one. I could trust him, we all did. He had my back, watched out for me, much as I did for him. I loved him, much as I did the others. Zul did too. Darwyn … well, y’know what she’s like, reckon you spent enough time round her by now. I mean sure, he was her friend, but … I guess maybe he scared her a little bit, even so. She was always a bit wary round him, once he got big, but then she’s tiny, so it tracks. I mean she was just being smart. But after Yevnik?” Another hiss, I can’t help it.
In the end I just toss the rag aside and spit right on the blade, then start working my thumb over the toughest spot. Mindful of the edge as I do it, but my frustration’s getting to me now. It ain’t coming, I just can’t seem to get it …
“Sal … that woman, she said it was Glyn. Sparkheel. Now him … he ain’t stupid, I’ll give him that, but puffed-up prick or not, ain’t no way he’s in this alone. Uh-uh. No fucking chance o’ that. Besides, him an’ Gran, they were never close, ‘least not that I ever saw. They had no real business ever working together, even after what Gran got himself mixed up in. So I don’t buy him being the way they got in. Is he the contact? Sure. But there’s gonna be somebody else behind him. I’m sure of it.” Finally I just give up, instead picking up the whetstone as I take a closer look at the edge itself. Shouldn’t need more’n a pass or two, mostly I just need to oil it.
“No other way I can look at it, really. It’s gonna be Yevnik. When we get word to Cobb and he gets his sneaky little network on it, that’s the only possibility that makes any sense to me. Cuz Glyn’s his little bitch, one of his favourites. Little shit ain’t got the balls to do this without that old man’s say-so. Except it don’t make any sense, that’s the part I can’t let go of. I mean … I don’t get it. Yevnik … he’s a fucking snake, the man has no moral backbone at all, he’d sell his own kin out to get ahead, but the Guild’s his life. It’s the only thing he cares about, besides his own skin. So why? Why the fuck would he do this?”
The first I realise that Shay’s crouched down in front o’ me is when she reaches out with tentative hands, not taking hold of my own while I’m holding the knife, I realise, just showing her open palms to make it clear she’s trying to be gentle and very careful. She speaks in a low, cautious tone, like she’s still holding her breath as she does it, and when I finally look up at her I realise how tense she actually is. “Art? I need you to chill. Can you do that for me?”
Seeing that finally checks me mid-stroke, so the stone don’t quite spark the steel this time as I run it over the blade. I’m a beat answering her, slowly realising how tense I am too … then I just let a heavy sigh out as I breathe: “Oh … shit … yeah, I guess …”
When she reaches for the knife now, I just turn my paw over to let it rest inert in my open palm so she can pick it up without resistance. She’s careful about it all the same, and doesn’t really breathe again until she’s got it, passing it into her other hand before finally settling back onto her haunches. “Good. Art, I’m …” She falters again.
“We’re worried about you.” Tulen answers for her after a beat, and her cheeks darken immediately, letting me know she mostly just blurted it out without thinking first.
Sighing, Shay takes care as she folds her wrists so she can lean onto her knees while she’s holding the knife. She looks so solemn right now, and while she can hold my eye I get the impression she’s squirming a good deal on the inside right now, but she’s muddling through it all the same. “Look, I get it. That was an impossible situation. It was fucking chaos up there in the tavern, we were all going through it, and it was just shit luck that it had to be you that killed him. If I could have spared you from that, if I hadn’t gotten myself messed up, maybe it wouldn’t have –”
“Hey, no.” I give the whetstone a little squeeze as I draw in a deep breath, but it’s just so I can focus myself, just centre myself as I sit forward, reaching out to let my empty paw settle on her wrist now. “No, that ain’t on you either. That was all his fault, but even then not really. Maybe it wasn’t anybody’s fault, it was like you said, just shit luck. I mean he was already dying, you already started that when you took his hand off. I just put him out of his misery.” I look down for a long beat, letting that sigh go now. “Shit … ‘least I got to say goodbye. He was lucid enough for that in the end. Made it hurt more, but … wasn’t his intention. It just happened that way.”
“We just don’t want you beating yourself up over this, it does none of us any good, least of all yourself, and worse there’s no reason for you to do it.” Shay sighs, and when I finally look up again she’s just regretful. “At least you got to say goodbye.”
Yeah … honestly, I can see where she’s coming from now. When we all met, when she first became one of us after that mess with Ashsong and what she helped us prevent up in the mountains, she lost three friends, close ones, all in less than an hour of each other. Every death was a swift, sudden one, they were just gone almost before she had time to register it even happened, which just made the loss hurt so much more, because she never got to tell them how much they meant to her.
I remember on the road to Bavat after, while we were first getting to know her, there were times when she would just go somewhere, just shut down for a while, close herself off and suffer for a few hours, sometimes cry but more often just soak. Wallow in the fact that death could be a cruel, heartless bitch sometimes. I dunno how much control Corvina really has in how that all works, or maybe it was Thorin, or maybe neither of ‘em actually have any real say in these things, that it’s … yeah, it’s like she said, and I ran with before. Just shit luck. Which makes death even more cruel precisely because it’s just pointless.
Giving her wrist a little squeeze, I try my best to smile, but I know it comes out real sad and completely empty of humour right now. “They knew you loved ‘em, though.”
Managing something of a smile herself, a little wobbly but still there enough to serve, Shay just shrugs. “I’d like to think so. And you’ve all been there for me since, helped me get through to where I don’t feel like shit about it all the time anymore.” She unfolds her arms now and takes hold of my paw in her empty hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of her own. “So you can be damn sure we’re going to do the same for you while you have this to work through. Have you got me?”
Tulen must reach out then, cuz I feel a hand grip my shoulder before slipping over onto my back and start to rub gently, just under the base of my neck. I take another deep breath and nod, not for anything in particular, just going along with the general mood now. “Yeah. I got you.”
“All right.” Shay frowns for a beat, like she wants to say something more, but then thinks better of it, maybe. Finally she just raises her other hand again, still careful as she opens it up to offer my knife up to me now. “Just calm down, please. I don’t want you hurting yourself because you’re getting worked up.”
Nodding again, this time with more commitment, I reach out, a little more tentatively than I’d like, maybe, and just as carefully pick the knife up again. I frown as I raise it in front of me, taking a beat to examine it again more closely, and I realise now I don’t need to sharpen it anymore right now.
“I’ll be there tonight, anyway.” Tulen’s voice is soft, her tone reassuring now, and she keeps on with that gentle, soothing rubbing motion between my shoulder-blades. “In the tunnels, I’ll be with you. If you start to feel … I don’t know, if it gets too much for you down there, or after, when we’re inside, you know you can tell me, I can help you.”
“Thanks.” I set the whetstone back down on the oilcloth and pick the oily rag back up again, turning the knife over between my fingers for a moment before starting to polish. “I’ll try to remember that, when we get down there. But I hope … I dunno, I always been pretty good at focusing when shit gets crazy. Kesla calls it my game-face, I never really got what she meant by that. Must be some kinda soldier thing she learned from her da.”
“I don’t know,” Shay speaks with a half-chuckle now as she straightens up, stepping back as she takes a moment to give her back a little stretch. “My mother used to say something similar, when she was training me. Although I suspect she got it from my da.”
“Well I still mean what I said.” Tulen stops stroking my back now, giving my shoulder one last little squeeze before taking her hand back, and when I look to her she’s sitting up again, looking down at the sandwich she must’ve been holding this whole time. Still with only a few bites out of it. It only takes a short beat for her hunger to return, making her dig back in again.
“Shay?” A familiar voice breaks our reverie, and the half-orc in question turns quickly towards the other side of the cloister, starting to frown a little.
Lady Naru’s making her way over now, skirting the edge of the lawn as she approaches. She’s already homing in, I notice. “Are you ready?”
“Am I …” That makes her frown a little tighter. “I’m sorry, I don’t –”
“If you want to be ready for tonight, we should really get started.” She looks past her at the rest of us now, then everything else. “Ah, well … perhaps I should give you a little more time, if you –”
“Oh, no.” Shay takes a step back our way, then pauses, looking down at her stuff. “Although … yeah, I don’t know. I suppose I can’t really take my sword in with me, can I?”
“No, I don’t think that would quite work, under the circumstances. Kesla will be armed, but you …” Lady Naru turns to ponder Shay’s collection as well. “That’s not to say you shouldn’t still bring a few weapons with you all the same. Anything that you could easily conceal, I mean.”
“You wanna borrow any of mine?” I pipe up now. “I got a bunch that’d suit this kinda job.”
Cocking a brow my way, Shay start to smile again, a little more of a cocked, mischievous one now. “No, I think I’m good. I have a few of my own in mind, I think.” And she takes a few quick, easy strides over with her long legs to bend down and pore over her collection.
Mindful of the sorcerer’s eyes on me now, I make a conscious effort not to watch Shay’s backside as she does this, instead turning back to find Tulen’s getting to her feet again.
“Yes, of course … I thought I might help, is that all right, my Lady?”
Lady Naru blinks as she looks to her now, then starts to smile, warm but, I notice, a little mischievous like Shay, now. “I think so, yes. You’re most welcome.”
Tempting as it might be for me to enquire if I could tag along too, mostly just to satisfy my curiosity, I hold my tongue, instead turning back to my own work as I start oiling my blade. Much as I’d like to see Shay get all gussied up, ‘specially if they’re planning on dressing her up like one o’ them highborn ladies, I got my own part to play in tonight’s plans, and I wanna be ready for it.
For Gael …