It’s been a while, certainly. I take a moment to readjust the lie of my shirt and jack, rolling my shoulders as I do so in the hope that it might temper the acute, warm sting of the pressure on my tender back, but it doesn’t make any discernible difference at all. Frowning, I take another moment to fiddle with my rolled-up sleeves, tightening what I can here and there. I think about the fact that my bracers feel a little strange laced tight around my naked wrists now instead of gently-worn linen, since it’s been a while since I’ve worn them like this, but it doesn’t work as intended to get my mind off the discomfort. It has been a while, then, since I’ve clearly forgotten how much of an irritation wearing clothes got after my last ink.
Shay’s finding it an interesting learning experience, I see. She keeps rolling her own shoulder, even though she’s just got her shirt to concern herself with and it’s only one arm so she can just keep adjusting it until she possibly finds something that works … although probably not. I’ve noticed her casting complicated looks my way more than once since we left the shop, I think they might be well-hidden recrimination, but so far she’s kept her tongue about it, at least. In my current mood I’m not really sure how tolerant I’m actually feeling myself.
Once we’d dealt with the business of our new communications from Darwyn, I suggested to Gael that it might be smart that, after he’d come up with a good spot for us to spring our trap, Art should maybe talk to Big Man, see if he’d spotted any more surveillance. Gods know there was no way anybody’d manage to pull the wool over his eyes without him knowing, he probably already knew everything that was going on inside the shop too. A few minutes later Gael came back to inform me that so far as any of ‘em could tell we’d been lucky, but that if that were to suddenly change he’d do the same thing I’d suggested for any other problems. Since the place didn’t suddenly shake from three or four great, rapid resounding impacts in our remaining time I wasn’t at all surprised to hear that nothing had changed when we finally emerged again.
After that, of course, I picked the conversation back up with Kurnev, trying a different track now we know he knows our elusive orcish “friend”. Like if on those few occasions he’d seen him in the Late Bone, he’d maybe seen him with anyone else of note. Turns out that had been the right train of thought, because while most of the descriptions we got didn’t sound like anything particularly special, it turned out that the last time he’d seen young Granzun was in the company of a particularly pale young redheaded woman. She creeped the holy hell out of him, apparently …
Vandryss. Sounds about right. Since she was the one hired the thugs it makes sense she’d be the go-between for whatever else. Now the question remains whether that means that Granzun’s simply another stooge-for-hire like the rest or if he’s actually genuinely involved. I’m hoping, if we can somehow get our hands on him, maybe we can get to the bottom of this through him, but if we could somehow find her through him too, well, that’s far too good an opportunity to pass up.
There wasn’t much else Kurnev could tell us beyond that. Apparently he’d been going to the Late Bone for several years now, and it changed ownership a few times in that time, lately to an old former ship captain called Jammund. He actually said that he used to be a wily old merchantman, but the way he talked about him convinced me the man definitely can’t have been much on the up-and-up, so he’s either a smuggler or worse. Given pirates rarely live long enough or rich enough to retire to this kind of lifestyle I’m willing to bet it’s the former.
From what I was able to learn about him, this Jammund’s a pretty easy-going bloke all round, pretty relaxed with the rules in his bar and doesn’t tend to be too heavy-handed with punishments if anyone ever does actively transgress. Mostly if there are fights or damages culprits tend to get turned out on their ear, and I’m told he has an impressive staff of muscle to enforce that, so most of the time problems are warded off largely before they’ve even arisen. Transgressors invariably get barred, although the length of that particular sentence depends on how bad they fucked up, and there’ve only been two occasions when something so bad happened the culprits were barred for life. The big rule is no naked blades in the establishment – you can go in armed, but anyone draws it’s an automatic booting. Altogether I imagine this actually makes for one o’ the safest taverns in the whole Untermer dockside, which is one hell of an impressive feat all round, you ask me. I can see why Kurnev’s so happy to keep it as his local.
Once our tattoos were done he slathered my back and Shay’s arm with more of that weird-smelling ointment and pasted some clean, soft linen wraps over the top, told us to keep ‘em out the sun for at least two days, and not to scratch no matter how damn itchy they get. Most important though, he told Shay not to pick the scabs once they form or she’ll just fuck it all up and he’ll have to fix whatever damage she’s done. Given how incredible her finished piece turned out I reckon that’d be a damn shame, so I been just as particular to stress it to her as well.
I got a glimpse of my own in the mirror just before he put on the wraps and I gotta admit his lad’s definitely inherited his talents. Given he’s still learning he’s already advanced impressively well, the finished piece having turned out essentially identical to how it looked on the page, albeit drawn into my own far darker skin. Still, given the piece was all in black ink it shouldn’t make it any harder to pick out from my own back once it’s fully healed. Shay went for one with a bit of colour, but given her own interesting green skin tone I’m deeply curious to know how it’s ultimately going to turn out once it’s recovered.
In the end Shay’s tattoo wound up costing twelve gold marks, while my own was almost eighteen, and Kurnev was not even remotely interested in haggling, either. In the end I was willing to agree it was worth it, certainly given we weren’t so much paying for the pieces themselves as the information we were given, although the general trade was a good bonus, both for him and his son. In the end I think they both enjoyed working on us. Shay was a little more perturbed, but handed over the coins quick enough, ultimately reasoning at least we’ve still got plenty to spare after our last job.
Besides, as Gael was happy to inform us on the way out, since we paid the money in service to the Silver Order through our current employment, we could easily just write it up as expenses and they’ll be perfectly willing to reimburse us once we’re done. I gotta admit, I love the inherent irony in that, and it made Shay laugh too.
My good mood ain’t lasted, mind. Once the pressure of my clothes on my tender back started to really work on me I got to thinking dark again, I couldn’t help it. I think if anybody were to try and jump on me right now reckon I’d put ‘em in a grave before they ever knew what hit ‘em, I might even enjoy it. It’s a worrying state of mind to be in, dangerous even, because I’ve seen it get addictive in others before. I’m working hard to keep myself from snapping at everyone around me, and it’s looking like Shay shares my feelings right now.
Anyway, Art’s thought of a place. We’ve made a few back-and-forth calls between Gael and Tulen since we left the shop, and the situation don’t seem to have changed much. They got food and made a big show of sitting in one of the smaller public squares while they took their good time eating it, hoping the sheer boredom or perhaps envy of having to just watch them was able to irritate whoever’s shadowing ‘em. Maybe it even put some of ‘em to sleep. Gods know, I been on gigs in my time when I had to spend large stretches of time just watching folk go about their business and it could be some seriously boring shite.
So far Driver 8 still ain’t picked up on anything tracking us, so I’m hoping that means we’re clear. I mean it’s not impossible to suppose that whoever it is might have dispatched that wizard woman again, who’s surely capable enough of coming up with some way of blocking Big Man’s senses, but he can still pick up on that when it occurs. Last time it happened it took us a while to make the connection and it cost us, but we sure learned our lesson since. I asked him to definitely keep an eye out for his long-range senses just going blank, and let me know the second it might happen. So far he’s stayed quiet, which gives me hope.
Thel and the others are making their way in a circuitous route to where we’ve decided to lay our trap, and so far as they can tell for the moment whoever’s following ‘em ain’t any the wiser. Meanwhile we’re making a more direct beeline to it, hoping we can set up ahead of time so when they walk them in we can just spring the trap right behind ‘em. Darwyn’s had Tulen send Cobb a message too letting him know what’s up, on the off-chance he might be able to send a little extra help our way, or at the very least a little extra overwatch. Right now even just a few more of those creepy little kids’ll do me.
Art tells me they’re basically foundlings, young cadets of the Guild, being brought up in their ways but nowhere near old enough yet to be useful for anything more than observation and the odd bit of light pickpocketing. Which means he used to do this himself, back in the day. I’m sure he ain’t the only bakaneko in the Guild, even here in Untermer, but I can’t help thinking he would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, ‘specially a tiny little cub version of him. I’m sure he was absolutely adorable back then. He didn’t like me admitting as much, of course, if I could’ve seen his cheeks I don’t doubt they’d have been red as beets.
After we been walking for a while and I’m sick of trying to adjust my gear without it making any bloody difference, I find myself sidling up to him and pondering. I wanna ask him something but I’m really not sure how to broach the subject, I’m genuinely unsure just how it’ll actually go over. Given how he reacted yesterday I get the distinct impression it’s a proper sore subject for him.
Eventually he must get tired of me just strolling along beside him, saying nothing with my thumbs tucked in my belt and my face likely making a subtle expressive journey that only someone who’s known me for a while, like him, could hope to interpret. So he just rounds on me, not looking mad per se, but he definitely ain’t thrilled by the prospect. Likely he knows what’s coming. “All right, out with it. The hell’s up with you now?”
Sighing, I decide to just plough straight on ahead. “What’s up with you an’ Darwyn?”
Oh, the look he gives me now. If he could kill me with his eyes right now I’d be cold on the cobbles, I swear to the gods. As it is he starts walking again, just turns and walks on the way we’ve been heading without saying a word. Letting go another deep sigh I start after him again, determined not to let this go. I got the feeling now this needs to come out, as much for him as anything else. “Art –”
“She hurt me, all right? It weren’t a great situation, and I was in a bad place, I needed to get out and I wanted her to come with me. I asked her and she just looked at me like I was a fucking idiot. Like it was the stupidest thing she ever heard and I was being a complete moron, I should just get over myself, get over what that fucking bastard Yevnik was doing to me, come back round, toe the company line. Like everything’d be roses if I just let that fucker turn me into a monster. One of his nasty little murderers. That if I just walked out I’d be letting everybody down, her especially.”
“Did she actually say all of that?”
For a long time he doesn’t say anything, he just carries on with his hands balled into fists at his sides, arms rigid now so it makes him walk odd and stiff. He’s so tense right now he’s like a string on some instrument, if I plucked him I could probably produce a nice clear note. Finally he growls under his breath and starts to slump again. “No. No, she didn’t actually say that, but it was there, in the way she looked at me. There weren’t no sympathy, she was just pissed. Pissed at me for rocking the boat.”
“But she didn’t say that either, did she?”
“No.” he admits “She didn’t say that shit either. But it was implied, that look was damn expressive an’ I’d got real good at reading her by then.”
“So what did she say?” I’m really not sure I actually wanna know the answer, but I gotta ask all the same. I was right, this really does need to come out.
He looks at me, finally, and there’s so much pain behind his eyes now, he looks so sad it almost breaks my heart a little to see it, I’m instantly sorry I asked but now it’s too late to take it back. “She said if I was prepared to make the biggest mistake of my life, I could do it on my own, not drag her right in after me. I asked her why and she just looked at me again, worse’n before, and then she said that if I really had to ask at this point then I really didn’t have a clue. She said I should just get out right away if I was going, not say another word to her about it. About anything, really. She never wanted to see me again, didn’t wanna be reminded I even existed.” Abruptly he just stops where he is, hawks up from his throat and turns his head aside just before he spits a great wad of something into the nearest drain with unnerving accuracy. “Then she just walked right out the room. Didn’t see her again before I lit out for good, reckon she was avoiding me.”
“Maybe it was just too hard for her to watch you leave when she knew she couldn’t come with you. You think that might’ve been it?”
“Not once.” He hisses, bitter as a fresh-cut lemon. “I tried real hard to forget about ‘er after I left Untermer.”
“Well maybe you should –”
“Fuck that noise, ain’t gonna happen. I don’t need to give ‘er the time o’ day if it ain’t important to what we’re doing here. She’s nothing to me now, I couldn’t give a bright fuck about her anymore.”
“Then why the hell are you so mad about it?”
“BECAUSE I LOVED HER!!!” He stops again and yells it, right up in my face as he rounds on me again, stopping me on the spot too. He’s furious now, the green of his eyes is flashing like there’s fire behind ‘em, it’d be damn striking if it weren’t so fiercely scary to look at right now. “I loved her more than anyone else I ever known in my life! I wanted to spend the rest o’ my life with her, I wanted us to have a family, to settle down somewhere we could just live, be happy and honest and not have to steal anymore, where I’d never have to touch a fucking knife again! I wanted to give her my heart, all the world I could possibly offer up that was mine to give, I loved her! I loved her and she didn’t give a shit, when I asked her to come with me she thought I was an idiot and I was fucking up and she didn’t want anything more to do with me.” He stands there for a long moment, quiet now but not looking any less dangerous, I genuinely reckon he could actually murder me right now if I accidentally pushed him the wrong way so I don’t do anything, I just stand there and watch him.
“I loved her. And she broke my heart. So now I wish she never existed, so I’d just as soon pretend she don’t. But of course, the world fucking hates me, don’t it?” He laughs now, and it’s a bitter, humourless thing. “Yeah, the world hates my guts, so it decided to just throw her right back into my life again, just to rub my face in the exact same shite I used to put up with. So now I’m stuck with her again cuz we need ‘er, and I’m going quietly insane.” The smile he offers up is a little too wide and way too manic, too full of his sharp teeth, it’s deeply unsettling and don’t convince for a second.
“Art, I …” I falter, there’s not a thing I can think of to say to him now. I’m a complete blank, and it hurts realising it. “I don’t …”
“Don’t sweat it, boss.” He shrugs, his smile turning into something a bit more honest but also awful sad. He shrugs. “We’re here now, and I just gotta weather it, so I will cuz we need this.”
“Oh … fuck, Art. You little shit.” I step forward and pull him into a hug and while he resists me for a moment he quickly melts as I squeeze him as tight as I dare, careful not to suffocate him since I’m keenly aware just how much bigger and stronger I am. After a few more moments he finally reaches up with decidedly shaky hands and returns a hug of his own, and I just squeeze him a little tighter.
“Is this why you’re the way you are?” I ask after a moment “Y’know, with women. All those girls and boys in all the pubs and bars and inns, it’s like you’re just trying to burn through every loose pair of drawers you can find.”
He pushes me away now, but gently, and I let him go easy enough. He ain’t angry with me now, but he’s still watching me with a loaded look. “What you trying to say, Kesla?”
I look at him for a few beats, unsure how to proceed. “Well, I just … I’m … um …”
“Just cuz you don’t like to partake of what’s clearly on offer to you when you got an opportunity don’t mean the rest of us gotta go without too. I mean, how long can you go without some hot number between your legs? That morning we left Hocknar’s the first time I seen you look truly satisfied in almost a year, I was starting to worry about you.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Now I really glare at him, I can’t help it, and he’s starting to smile again and this time there’s actual amusement in it. He’s getting me back, clearly.
“I’m just choosy. I can’t just jump on the first pretty girl who bats her eyelids at me, I have to actually feel something for ‘em first. It takes time, and …” Now, suddenly, I remember that we ain’t alone, that we’ve been walking down a busy street in the fading day as the sky’s darkening above our heads, and we got our friends all round us. It’s all I can do not to turn round and take in all the faces I know are watching us now, not sure I wanna know exactly how Shay’s reacting to this conversation she’s incapable of missing, or Brung. I can see Gael as it is and they look proper uncomfortable right now, entirely incapable of meeting my eyes. “Oh … fuck off, Art.”
That makes him break out in a fresh grin and it’s much happier than the last one, clearly he reckons he won this round. “Well at least you have fun when you do cut loose.”
Wow … I really wanna punch him now, my hands are itching for it, but I keep ‘em down at my sides, flexed and open as I fight the urge to ball ‘em up. So I just breathe, working on collecting myself, and allow him his little win this time. To be honest, after what I just put him through he maybe deserves it.
“Okay,” Shay finally interjects, holding up her hand as she steps into view on my right, and honestly she looks uncomfortable as Gael, which is actually a bit of a relief. “Maybe we could just get our minds back on the business at hand?” She shrugs with her whole arms, hands spread wide. “You know, the trap, such as it is?”
I look at Art again, and he looks right back at me, and there’s a little sheepishness in his face now that I’m sure I reflect, ‘least a little bit. He shrugs, stepping back now, and I take a deep breath. “Yeah, reckon that’s probably best.” I try not to glare at him as I say it.
For their part, Gael and Shay both float off ahead of us, remembering the directions Art gave us earlier so they’re comfortable enough taking the lead for now, while Krakka and Brung are skulking away behind us. Our tengu cleric seems almost as uncomfortable as the others, but far as I can tell Brung doesn’t seem to have an opinion one way or another. Big Man’s simply stood by on our left, stoic as ever, although I think he’s watching me right now so I’m sure he was following close as the others.
Turning back to Art, I wave him on ahead, then start walking myself. Within moments we’ve fallen back into step, and I’m really not sure how comfortable I am about that. I can tell he’s thinking about asking me something now. I try not to roll my eyes and know I don’t succeed.
“You do have a type, at least.” he finally chuckles.
Glaring sidelong, I grit my teeth. “Do I now?”
“Well there was that time before, back in Hocknar, when we went to Murphin’s, you were awful friendly with his granddaughter. What was ‘er name?”
“Janna.” The tension just leaks outta me, I can’t fight it. Just thinking about her makes me feel warm inside, and a little tingly down below too, actually. Damn it, Art, is that your plan? You really want me to make a mess of myself right now?
“Yeah, that’s it. She’s cute, definitely. Very cute. Big as you are, but more …” He frowns for a moment, then traces an hourglass shape in the air with his hands. “Y’know?”
“Yeah, I’m well aware of Janna Murphin’s curves, as you well know.” I give him a dark grin now, full of menacing teeth as I can manage since I don’t have anywhere near so many sharp ones as him. “You’re swimming in some very deep waters right now, Art.”
“Am I?” He offers up another unconvincing innocent smile. “I’ll have to remember that, boss. But, y’know … she is very easy on the eyes, so y’know, I can’t blame you for wanting to enjoy yourself. I take it she was the one put that big dumb grin on your face when we left Hocknar last?”
I watch him for a long moment, unsure whether to reprimand him now or just play along. To be honest I don’t really mind the turn of the conversation now, and I know Janna wouldn’t have a problem with it either, we’re certainly not exclusive or at all private about it. “She was, yeah.”
“Like I said, you got a type.” He nods, seeming pleased with himself now. For a few moments he says nothing, we just keep walking, the mood significantly smoother between us now, and I’m starting to think he might finally have given up on the subject at last when he adds: “So I’ll just have to keep an eye out for another big, sexy girl in future then, shall I?”
“Art –”
“D’you like redheads specific, or is it just the big girls in general? I mean if there’s wiggle room within a certain type then I certainly got some good choices to work with.”
“Art –” The note of warning’s back in my voice now.
“You got to see a bit more of Shay when you were in the shop, o’ course. I mean she’s very pretty. Proper gorgeous if I’m honest, and she’s certainly strong. I know you like that, so I’m deeply curious whether you –”
“Are my ears burning?” We both look up at once to see Shay and Gael have both drawn to a halt ahead of us again, and while I’m not immediately sure if they’ve actually heard much of that the half-orc is certainly smiling with an edged curiosity. Then again it might just be her arm niggling at her. “I just heard my name so I wondered if you were discussing me.”
When I look at him Art genuinely seems struck dumb by having been caught out, and I can’t help grinning a little seeing it. I forge on ahead in his stead. “We were just wondering how you were finding your new tattoo.”
Her smile gets a little sharper. “Oh I’m just loving it. I can definitely see what you meant about them being addictive.”
“Give it time. It’s bloody uncomfortable at first but once it’s healed you’ll never be able to stop touching it.”
Shay frowns now, clearly deeply unconvinced. “I can’t wait. Out of interest, we were just wondering where we should go now.” She gestures to the road ahead, the streets branching off now in three different directions. “Since this is a first time for both of us, but you know where we’re going.”
“Oh.” Art remembers himself at last. “Yeah. Right.” He points down the right hand street. “That way. We’re close now.”
Nodding, Shay gives him a look that could say a bunch of different things, but I’m sure it’s just to let him know she’s onto him, and turns away to head down the indicated path. Gael watches him for a moment, shrewd again, and again I wonder if either of ‘em are even aware how much they clearly like each other. I can tell they’re trying to work out if Art’s doing anything to once again prove how downright base he can be sometimes, and I’m finding it real hard not to laugh at how hard she’s trying not to let it get to her. It really shouldn’t be funny, but these two are completely hopeless.
As we start after them again, I give Art a suitably sharp look. “Shay’s just a friend, remember? We’re helping her out cuz she clearly needs it right now. So none of …” I point vaguely at him for a few moments. “That.”
“None o’ what?” Art glares back at me as he scrambles to catch me up again. “What did I do this time?”
“Nothing. You’re just being you.”
That has him frowning even deeper. “And what’s that s’posed to mean?”
This time I don’t even bother hiding my smile, just enjoying having the upper hand again. “Nothing. You are your own special person and I’d never do anything to change that.”
Art glares at me for a few more moments before growling under his breath and stalking ahead to join the others. I keep my own pace, enjoying the peace now, and start thinking about what he was talking about before. About Shay.
I’m not lying when I say she needs this. This is good for her. All of it, not just the new company and the new climes but even the danger and the violence. She needs new experiences to help her get over what happened in the mountains, the way her heart was broken by the deaths of so many she cared about. Once again I’m deeply pained myself remembering my own part in that, even though there was no avoiding it and she don’t blame us now for any of it. I just wanna see her be happy and move on, and I’ll admit I’m really getting to like her.
And then today, we did this and, like Art said, I literally saw more of her than I perhaps intended to. I was already settled when we were revealed to each other in the backroom before we started but she was still getting comfortable in the chair, and I was extremely aware she was wearing very little from her waist up. I had an idea of how she’s built already, the way she dresses doesn’t leave that much to the imagination since she likes her leathers well-fitted. But watching her adjusting her position on those cushions and seeing her lean, tight muscles move under her silken skin, a body fit for both a born fighter and a dancer, really … I really couldn’t look away.
Then I saw her see me looking and I covered it as best I could … but I couldn’t help thinking about it, ‘least a little bit. How that body might feel moving against mine, her smooth skin slick with sweat, her mouth on mine, would her hand go between my legs as quickly as mine would for her soft, responsive cleft? How wet would she be when I did it? Gods know I couldn’t help starting to get a little wet myself thinking about it, and now …
Fuck’s sake, Kesla. Stop that. That little shit’s just got in your head again.
I’ve never kissed an orc before, even a half-orc. I wonder what it might be like. With those tusks … although they’re not particularly pronounced, her elven blood in particular’s made them so small they’re barely noticeable, especially with the way her lips form a sweet, downturned recurve bow-shape so they sit in those little notches in the inside corners of her cheeks. She’s got a real striking smile, I enjoy looking at it … oh bloody hell, Kesla. Stop it.
“Thinking about home?” Krakka surprises me, matching my pace impressively well with Bloodmoon propped comfortably across his shoulder. He’s giving me the kind of side-eye only a tengu can really do, a subtle smile touching the corner of his beaky mouth.
“What?” I scramble for a place in this new conversation. “Oh, um … where? We ain’t technically got one, do we?”
“I meant Hocknar, of course. I’d say that’s probably the best candidate we have these days, especially given how often we tend to stay there.” He cocks his head a little to take me in from a new angle. “Or maybe for you it’s less of a where than a whom?”
“Don’t you start.”
“You deserve to be happy, Kesla. We all do, none of us have forfeited that right yet. Art’s clearly cut up about what happened between him and that intriguing young halfling girl, but I think you can see just as well as I can that there’s hope in another quarter for him now. As for Shay, I’m sure you saw what happened before we left Heldereth. That young half-elf seemed like a good match to me.”
Yeah, I remember that too. I never did get his name, we barely spoke in the time we had after the battle before we left, but he seemed like a very decent sort, and he clearly thinks the world of Shay. Even more so after that kiss he stole from her just before we left. He’s not my type at all, but he seems to suit her very well. And now that I think about it, the realisation I’m not even remotely jealous of him with her … I’m just thinking between my legs, clearly. Art does that more than enough for the rest of us put together, I shouldn’t start myself.
Then I look at the others ahead and Shay’s backside is very clearly defined in those tight britches of hers and … oh come on! I look away fast and clear my throat into my fist.
“You’re right, of course.” I manage to say, and somehow it sounds entirely reasonable. “I hope we make it back that way sometime. Or at least she does. He was a good match.”
“We want the same for you as well, you know.” Krakka’s still smiling his little smile. “Old Murphin’s granddaughter always puts a spring in your step. You really should think about your own future sometime. I think you could be very happy if you let yourself.”
“Y’know what I always noticed about you?” I try to keep my voice as level as it was before as I fight to steer the conversation into a more comfortable direction. “Most of the time you’re the stoic, silent type, you and Big Man are very much peas in a pod, but then whenever you do decide to start talking you always just get so bloody insightful. How do you do that?”
His smile becomes a grin, and there’s a twinkle in his brightly dark eye. “I’d like to think it came from my training in the temple in Tabaphic, but if I’m really honest I suppose I’ve always been like this. And I was young once too, Kesla. I’d like to think maybe I’d have a chance of my own to settle down someday, especially now I’m getting old. Although I doubt I’ll be so lucky.”
“Don’t say that. If I had my wish you’d outlive us all.”
Krakka starts chuckling at that. “Oh my … no, I doubt even My Lady would be so generous as to bestow so special a miracle as that upon a worn out old raven like me. My days have been numbered for a while, Kesla, and I’ve known it for as long. I’m constantly amazed I’ve lived this long, so any more is good enough for me. I’ll be happy enough just knowing you’re all of you all right when I’m finally gone.”
Gods … I genuinely don’t know what to say to that, it hurts my heart something fierce to think of one of my oldest remaining friends lying dead after a battle somewhere down our road. If that wasn’t exactly how I know he’d want to go I’d be heartbroken hearing him talk like that. “Thorin’d take you in a heartbeat, I know it. I hear his Valkyries are all proper beauties.”
“Just your type, I’d venture.” He grins up at me. “What are they, big strong strapping shieldmaidens made of muscles like yourself?”
“Some of ‘em, sure.” I return his smile again, enjoying this turn in the talk more. “They’re chosen from the bravest and fiercest of all the women who fall in battle. He loves a warrior woman, I’m told.”
“Well you’d be guaranteed a place amongst them, I’ve no doubt.” He turns to look down the line ahead of us. “Young Shay too, I should imagine.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it too.” Up ahead they’re slowing down, and I turn now to look to Big Man and Brung, who are still bringing up the rear. The goblin’s already watching me, almost as if he’s read my mind, and I know Driver 8’s already evaluating what lies ahead even though we haven’t seen the ground yet. “Looks like we’ve arrived.”
Sure enough, Art takes a few steps ahead before stopping in place and turning back. As the others slow to a stop I forge ahead to join him. “This it, then?”
“It’s that one, across the way.” He points out a long building stretching out from the other side of the street we’re about to step out of an intersection onto, growing dark against the glooming sky. I thought it was turning red before but now that I’m looking I can see it’s gone straight from the pinkish orange of sunset into a fitful purple as a broken and uneven bank of dark and brooding clouds starts to roll in from out at sea. I can’t see any flashes in it yet but I feel it on the air, a low, subtle static charge. There’s a storm coming. In Untermer that’s heavy business.
Well, never say the gods ain’t got a sense o’ humour – clearly Thorin heard us talking about him and, since there’s a fight on the way, he’s decided to set the mood accordingly. Looking at it I can’t help wishing we had Yeslee here with us now, so she could find herself a nice, relatively dry little eyrie somewhere in there ahead of time so she can provide a typically lethal overwatch without getting her bowstring wet. Instead I guess we’ll have to make do. At least I had the good sense to get Yes to fish my own shortbow and arrows out of her bag of holding before we separated this morning, again just in case ...
The building itself looks abandoned. In fact, it looks like it was left to rot a good long while ago, the façade crumbling impressively and I can see nature’s already reclaiming it in places, I can only imagine more-so inside. From what I can tell it used to be a livery stable, a particularly big one I’d guess, when it was operative it must’ve serviced dozens, maybe even a hundred or more mounts, pulling-teams and beasts of burden. We’re into the slaughterhouse district now, I can smell blood on the air, so I imagine many of the animals it tended felt damn glad they weren’t somewhere else a lot worse when they were here.
“You’re sure about this place?” I ask Art now.
“We used to come here a lot when I was younger.” He cocks a brow when I do, giving him a curious look. “Well, younger’n I am now, anyways. Guild kids play here, older kids come here to fight. There’s been a whole bunch o’ duels fought here over the years. More’n a few ambushes took place here too, folk lured here by honour thought they were just here to fight a duel and got proper murdered once they turned up. That’s why I thought of it. It’s perfect.”
Ain’t sure I like the way he put that, but I let it slide. Art’s been trained well, he may not be a soldier but he knows tactics almost as well as I do so if he thinks this is the right place then I’ll take him at his word. I look back at the others and they’re all taking it in too, making up their own minds now. “Okay then. This is it. Let’s get set up.”
With a nod, Art immediately lopes off across the street and right in through the gaping, doorless entrance. Turning back again I point to Diver 8 and beckon him over, and the others have the good sense to spread out fast to allow him to pass as he approaches at his usual intimidating stalking speed. He stops a few feet short and bends forward enough to look down at me. “How can I help you, Kesla?”
“I want you to head on in with Art, scout it out. Let him do his thing, he knows the ground and he knows what he’s looking for so just stay out his way. You just settle in and do that scanning thing you do, work us out some good angles. We’ll be through presently.”
“Very good.” He straightens up again and I step aside so he doesn’t have to walk round me as he follows the same beeline Art did. Thankfully the entrance was clearly built big enough for massive, fully-laden wagons so he’s able to walk straight in without even having to duck, and once he’s disappeared into the deepening shadows beyond I set my feet before starting to check my gear.
Shay sidles up so quietly I almost don’t notice her coming. “You’re sure about this, then?”
“I thought this was your idea?” I draw Hefdred enough to check it’s riding smooth through the throat of the scabbard, then snap it home again. I cleaned and sharpened the bastard sword early this morning before the others got up, so I’m comfortably aware the blade’s in good nick right now. “Hole up somewhere we can control and wait for them to walk right up to us, wasn’t it? Damn good plan, you ask me.”
“That’s not what I mean … I just want to be sure you’re comfortable with what we’re about to do.” She looks up at the building again. “This is what I used to do for a living, remember? This isn’t like storming into some enemy stronghold or jumping in to back up someone who’s already under attack. Sure, it’s going to be a fight, but if we do it right those first few poor bastards we kill won’t even know what’s hit them. That’s pretty much just straight murder in some people’s books.”
“Relax.” I check my axes one at a time, then each one of my knives just like the sword. “Ain’t my first time doing this either.”
That makes her frown, and the way she looks at me now is very complicated indeed. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with the conflicted emotions I see warring behind those dark eyes. She doesn’t say anything more, though, simply nodding a particularly curt little nod and stepping back before starting to check her own gear. I find myself watching her for a moment, and I’m not sure if I’m hopeful or conflicted now.
Gael joins us, and they’re ignoring the building, instead looking up at the sky. “I don’t like the look of that at all. It’s going to be dark soon, and that’s bound to make things even more murky. If we end up fighting, especially after dark …” They look down to me now. “I’m all right, so’s Shay and Art and Brung, and Big Man can see without any light at all. How are you going to be getting on? I’m not sure I can promise fire when it starts raining.”
“I’ll be all right.” I flip open the small satchel I kept with me after handing my coat off to Yeslee earlier, rummaging for a moment before pulling out the bundle I’m looking for. Taking care as I unwrap the soft cloth, I find my fancy new goggles are in the same fine working order they were in when I packed them yesterday. Just in case. “Janna’ll help me improvise.”
This brings a smile to Gael’s face, and I’m glad to see it there. I reach out now and give their shoulder a very gentle squeeze. “This is all for you, y’know. We get this right, ‘specially if that bitch is with ‘em, we just might have found your da.”
“I know.” They keep smiling, but there’s a wan hint to it now. “I just hope we can make it work. This job hasn’t gone that well for us so far.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I let her go, then slip the goggles on over the top of my head, allowing them to rest just over my brows. “But now we got a chance to bring the fight to them, and by Thorin I’m taking it. Even if I gotta carve that bitch to pieces to do it.”