That’s how I got my job with the crew from The Walk Right Inn. Despite the rather unusual screening process, I came to appreciate the people I was working with. Cate with her trained chicken was out and about most days, only dropping by the tapproom in the evenings. We continued a low level flirtation I think we both enjoyed but probably didn’t have much intention to ever consummate. I saw a lot more of Patrick. He was still the security, but dressed like one of the working girls and blending into the crowd I was his backup. I only had to step in twice, both times late in the evenings when things were on the verge of devolving into a full scale brawl with a crowd. We were both stuck with plenty of downtime in the mornings before the lunch rush and I got to know him pretty well. He was a widower. Cate’s sister had passed in the same incident that got him sent to the fighting pits. No one was ever quite clear on what that was. He was more than happy to talk about his time in the pits though. Apparently convicted felons had there win/loss record on their face for all the world to see, and seven successful bouts in a row had secured Patrick a pardon.
We’d sparred a couple of times and I could tell I’d gotten lucky he’d underestimated me that first day. I didn’t think I was up to taking him in anything resembling a fair fight. From the few times our body made contact wrestling, I could tell he enjoyed having me there on more than one level, but he seemed too shy to ever move past the occasional glance or small smile. It felt kind of weird to be interested in two members of the same family, and I tried not to act on either to keep myself out of trouble. I flirted with them both shamelessly, and enjoyed the attention even if I found myself missing real intimacy. Sexual release could come in the privacy of my own arduously filled wash tub. I was here on a mission. I could only wish other people had the same self control.
The Walk Right Inn was a business in the end, and they needed empty rooms upstairs in order to ply at least part of their trade. I ended up sharing a room with one of the working girls named Gabriel. We had similar frames, and even managed to share clothes a time or two, but that was about all we had in common. I had a thing for soft women or hard men, but Gabriel thought the ideal partner looked more like, well, us. She had moved from heavy innuendo the first night to blatant sexual overtures the next couple of evenings. A carefully calculated display of the physical disparity between us, ending with her on the floor in a wristlock with my foot on her throat and an offer to kick her ass, only seemed to make things worse. Gabby turned out to be a bit of a sub, and apparently I now pushed all of her buttons. Hooking up with a girl who made her living on her back just didn’t appeal to me at all. It turns out it was legal in the Kingdom, if not a popular trade most parents wanted their children to grow into. Gabriel was free to leave at any time and look into some other trade, but the money was easy and the life kind of fun according to her. I tried repeatedly to find a new roommate, but without success. I started to expect that the others found it amusing. I knew for a fact that Zeno laughed uproariously every time he saw Gabriel make a pass at me and get shot down.
That was my life in The Walk Right Inn. Over the course of a week and a half I made friends and became accustomed to this new world. If I found myself having trouble at night sleeping, wondering what had happened to the real world and if the others were just simulations, or pondering what would happen to them once I’d earned the silver, I lied to myself. I pretended that I was just on watch in case Gabriel came to join me for a little ‘comfort’ after a night terror again and tried to push it from my mind. On the 9th day it all came to a head though, because I finally found an opportunity to make some real money and finish the task.
Cate came in earlier than usual, and without her highly trained avian partner in crime. She drifted back behind the bar and came back with a mug of the brandy I had grown to favor as well as a flute of the fruity stuff she preferred. She handed me my drink and came to sit on the same side of the table as me, playfully shoving me over with her ample hip.
“Make a little room there, Julia. A girl has got to sit down.”
“I would love to clear you off a seat.” I replied, carefully brushing my face with a dainty kerchief I’d plucked from my cleavage. She burst into laughter and I grinned at her. Without cheesy movies and the joys of facebook videos, I’d realized I had a treasure trove of one liners Cate had never been exposed to. After one late night semi-buzzed conversation comparing the almost helpless ways men had tried to pick us up, I had started hitting her with them. The cheesier the better. I had been saving this one for just the right moment, and the smile it put on Cate’s face was infectious.
“Oh, that is terrible. No way a man from here would use it either. I don’t know about things in whatever mysterious foreign city you came from, but here in Kantia if your average man was willing to go down on a woman, and knew how?” She shrugged and shook her head. “Well, I’m not sure what would happen, but I bet I would find it a lot harder to get a date.”
I made a show of slowly looking her up and down before I shook my head. “Nope, you’d still get lucky whenever you wanted to.”
Her eyes crinkled in at the corners, obviously pleased but trying not to let it show. “I didn’t come here to flirt, this time. Shameless woman, you’re as bad as Gabriel.”
I flicked a quick glance over each shoulder and hissed at her. “Don’t say that name. You’ll draw her over here.”
She grinned openly this time but shook her head again. “No more antics, Julia. I’ve got a line on a business opportunity. You’re kind of thing really.”
I nodded back with a serious face, and scooted over a little on the bench so it was easier to see her face. I took a cautious sip of my brandy and made a go on gesture with one hand, waiting for her to explain. She sighed and held up her palms in a forgive me gesture.
“This is maybe a little complicated because you don’t know the players here, so I’ll sum up. If you feel like you need more information though to make an intelligent choice that’s fine. You can ask for more details and I’ll probably be able to fill you in.”
I nodded again, feeling a tad like a bobble head doll but I would wait before I had a relevant question before I interrupted her if we were talking business.
“There is a rich merchant, not one of the guild heads or a peer with any kind of political power. He’s been trying to change that. Applying pressure here or there, bribing clerks to look into old genealogies, that kind of thing. It’s started to piss some people off in one of the political leagues and they’re holding a kind of conference about it. One of the minor nobles is somewhat nervous about attending. Apparently a carriage carrying someone or another was held up by highwaymen, and there was a suspicious fall from a horse when someone else was riding to hounds. This noble is landed, but doesn’t have the rank to bring a retinue to the meeting. It’s supposed to look like an informal affair. Are you with me so far?”
I shrugged at her. “I’ve understood all the words, but I haven’t really caught where I fit in to all of this.”
“I’m getting there. Basically it’s a bodyguard gig. Normally the guy would have a couple of knights or a full levy of infantry he could drag along to make him feel safe, but the social nature of the venue means that would make him look bad. He has an armsman whose something of a badass that goes everywhere with them, but other than that he basically has to go in alone. This guy knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy, however. Patrick is going with as the coach driver, and a guy named Bonito who you might have met will be the footmen. It gives him two extra fighters who don’t look or act like soldiers.”
I pictured what little I knew of Bonito. He was a kind of swarthy looking older guy who was probably a little shorter than me. He had a host of tiny nicks up and down his forearms that said knife fighter, and carried a wicked looking ulu at the small of his back that looked about like a hatchet without a handle. The only time we’d really interacted I’d noticed he didn’t talk much and moved with a kind of liquid grace, and when one of the working girls had knocked a cup off the tabletop he’d caught it in one hand before it had hit the ground. Between that and a walking testosterone ad like Patrick I figured the bases were covered and told Cate so. She disagreed.
“The viscount wants a female fighter that’s still pretty enough to pass as his doxie. That’ll be the only way to get someone inside the venue itself not just cooling their heels out in the courtyard. If things proceed as planned its a chance for rich people food and alcohol, with a pleasant carriage ride on each end. If it goes badly, then the job is to get the viscount home alive with a substantial bonus at the end.”
“It sounds possible but kind of dangerous, what kind of threat are we realistically looking at?”
“No one really knows for sure. There might not even be one, or maybe the whole thing is one elaborate ambush and the viscount isn’t paranoid enough. A lot of it depends on how well he can trust the others in his political league. The minor house’s are always double dealing and figuring the best angles to catch up with the big boys. He’s offering plenty of money though. I’ve already signed on for the role of the doxie’s maid.”
“Seriously, Cate? I thought this was supposed to be a bodyguard thing. I haven’t noticed you out in the sparring yard with the rest of us.”
“Mmmmm, but I’ve watched you a couple times from over in the balcony. I can handle myself in a fight. My sister and I grew up in the poor quarter, Julia. I can take care of myself.” She put up her dukes in a parody of boxing I hoped was meant as a joke before winking at me. “Plus, I hope I have a real hell on wheels friend willing to play the doxie and make sure I come out alive too. You wanted a chance to get some real money. This a real payday. What do you say, Julia?”
I shot the rest of my drink in one long pull and shook my head at her. There were so many ways I could come to regret this decision. In the end I decided to go with my gut though, and I sighed. “All right. Count me in. When and where do we meet up?”
She clapped her hands and gave an honest to God giggle. “It’s on for this evening. We only just managed to finalize negotiations. The good news is, there is still plenty of time to get you dressed. You didn’t think you could play a lord’s mistress in that outfit did you? Gabriel should have the clothes back from the tailor’s by now. Lets’ go get you made up.”
She darted out of the bench before I had a chance to respond. Only the futile wish to keep a little dignity kept me from chasing her up the stairs. I trudged slowly up instead, resigned to the fact that I had somehow agreed to let Cate and Gabby of all people play with me like makeover barbie. This would not end well.
High fashion in this world was definitely different from the old. Apparently cleavage was universally approved of, but a woman’s shoulders was where the naughty happened. I had an ankle length dress in sea foam green that flared out and was pinned up over a couple of ruffled white underskirts. It came in and hugged my derriere a little tighter than I thought period clothing should have, before transforming into a corset that came up into a band of fabric that just barely covered my nipples. Even though it was tight across the chest, the band was thick enough it didn’t quite leave the high-beams on, and it pushed things together hard enough even I looked like I had a full chest. The incredibly risque part of the outfit I was told though, was the fact that I only had an arrangement of lace straps traveling over my shoulders, and apparently most of my deltoid was on full display. They put my hair up in a complicated arrangement of pins and paste jewelry adding at least four inches to my height, and even provided a pair of pale green slippers and some elbow length gloves that matched the outfit.
Gabriel had managed to keep her hands from wandering much, and Cate had been all business as they got me into the whole getup. Even though I had felt ridiculous with all the fussing, when I finally looked into the mildly distorted full length mirror Cate had brought from her room, I sucked in a breath. I had thought I would turn into something that had escaped from a prom somewhere, but they had managed to transform me into something like a princess from a movie. I shook my head in awe and then smiled at them.
“You girls are amazing. I look like a completely different person.”
Cate just shrugged at me, but Gabriel ran a familiar hand down one of the vertical ribs on the front of my corset. “I know the perfect way you could thank me later.”
I had to stifle a smile. Something about feeling hot made me almost ready to take her up on it for once, but I knew if I gave the girl an inch she would want a mile. “Don’t think so, Gabby. I need to arm up though. Where do I carry weapons in this?”
It turns out Cate had already considered it, and that’s why the dress had gone back out to the taylor. She showed me the pin on the right side of my up do first. Apparently the one slightly darker green with the flared bead at the end was a foot long ¼ inch piece of sword steel honed like a poniard. There was a slender punch dagger with a base just wide enough for my hand that slid up to my underboob and left the blade invisible in my cleavage. There were slits in my dress in a couple of strategic places. They looked designed to show off the material of the underskirt below but from the right direction you could reach down and get to a thigh holster. Cate had brought two with a couple of decent sized knives fitted for them, but I insisted on using one for my side handled baton instead.
Cate’s own hair went up in a much simpler arrangement, and she tied a miniature apron much too small to be of actual use over her normal dress. I reached out and tweaked the frilly edge.
“What in the world is that for?”
“It’s monogrammed. This is livery that shows I work for the viscount. Haven’t you noticed all the maids wear them? It’s supposed to keep them from being accosted by any of us rough common folk in the street, but I imagine it's used more like branding cattle. A keep off sign to keep from getting poached by another noble.”
I nodded and followed her downstairs to collect the others. I was curious to see how Patrick was dolled up, and wondering what could cast a guy like Benito as a hard working servant. As we waited for them to pull the carriage around, there was that familiar flutter of doing undercover work again. One part danger, one part thrill of Halloween, not much else can compare and the rush can be addictive. I had to fight to keep myself from fidgeting. When the carriage rolled up, I couldn’t help but elbow Cate and giggle like a schoolgirl.
Patrick was decked out in a crushed velvet vest in a delightful yellow color, over a shirt with puffy green sleeves and green tights. I’m not sure what the tights were made of because there was apparently no elastic here, but I grinned when I saw him up on the driver’s box because he filled them out nicely. I couldn’t help but whistle at him, and Benito’s change had been almost as dramatic. His clothes were a reserved green doublet over his regular pants, but he’d had a haircut and a shave that dropped 10 years and a million sins from his appearance. A fresh faced almost naive looking Benito had definitely not been what I expected.
I noticed an appreciative look from Patrick up top, and heard Cate tell Benito to quit stairing at my ass as he held the door for me, so I was feeling pretty cheerful as the carriage pulled out. Benito had folded the steps up and was perched on a little platform at the back of the carriage as Patrick drove, so it was only Cate and myself as we headed out of town. I ran an appreciative finger down the carved scrollwork near the window and smiled across at her.
“If this is the way the other half lives, I could definitely come to appreciate it. This coach is straight from Cinderella.”
“From where?”
“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”
“About that, Julia. I don’t know where you’re from and I haven’t pressed. You obviously don’t want to talk about it. Sometimes though, the things you say completely give you away. Some of your mannerisms are definitely out of the ordinary too. Going into tonight, any mistakes you make they’ll probably put down to a common woman trying to fit in above her station, but I have some advice for you if you’re willing to listen.”
“You’re a friend, Cate. I’m always willing to listen.”
She smiled at me and kind of wrinkled her nose in a gesture I was pretty sure wasn’t concious. “Thanks, dear. When you’re dealing with quality, the rule of thumb is the less you talk the better. A woman should be seen and not heard in these kinds of social events. There will be snacks and they’re not quite finger foods for women. Look for a tray of little wooden skewers so you won’t get your gloves dirty. When you’re done with the skewers you can just drop them to the floor, that’s what the servants are for. Sip your drink, and stick to wine. The harder stuff is supposed to be too much for a lady. I’ll be with you at first, so try to keep an eye on me now and then and I’ll offer a few discreet hints if necessary. After the initial meet and greet, us maids and such will stay behind while the rest of you move to a second location. You’re on your own there, but mostly just stand by the viscount and stare up at him adoringly every once in a while. If it’s something serious, the menfolk will be separated out yet again and move to a third location for the serious talk.”
I rolled my eyes at that and she shook an admonishing finger. “You’re expected to wait patiently for him to finish. Some of the ladies will gossip, but don’t get involved. You couldn’t handle that level of catty without killing someone and you don’t know the players. Odds are good if its a doublecross it will happen before that point while they can still get a large group in close without being noticed. If it goes wrong, get the Viscount and make it to me, I’ll help you make it to Patrick and Benito, and they’ll get us all off the grounds.”
“Sounds boring but doable. Where are we off to now?”
“To pick up the viscount of course, a quick run by his estate and then off to the meeting. It would have been a shorter trip to actually get him before us of course, but you can’t expect gentry to wait for the likes of us. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, we’ll get there eventually.”
I nodded but even a sprung carriage like this on a relatively smooth road couldn’t approach the comfort of a car. After a while the lurching motion became almost hypnotic really, and I was almost startled when the coach started to slow. The window was actually terribly placed for anyone wanting to see out, and I started to get up to take a look before Cate caught me with a look and pointed back towards my seat. I went like a good girl, already trying to fill a role.
The door opened and I saw Benito’s quick grin as he fastened a pair of steps into place. He dissapeared and was replaced by a thick, heavily muscled man with scarred knuckles and a busted nose. I was guessing this was the viscounts regular bodyguard, and I immediately marked him as a brawler. His cauliflower ear seamed to clash with a crushed velvet yellow surcoat reminiscent of Patrick’s and I wasn’t impressed. He had the look of a guy who’d been in plenty of fights, but something about the arrogance of his body language made me wonder if he’d ever actually won any of them. He climbed into the carriage without actually saying a word, gave me a thorough eyeballing before flopping down in the seat next to Cate, taking up a good deal more than half the bench. A much more finely dressed gentleman followed him. Still in the green and yellow but with real silk to the vest, and a refined look to him in spite of the simple infantryman’s sword belted high on his side. It kind of reminded me of Sean Connery in that movie with Katherine Zeta Jones, but clean shaven, and I relaxed a little bit. It was nice that my pretend date wasn’t completely repulsive. Then he opened his mouth and I realized I might have judged too soon.
“This is who they picked to play my mistress? Maybe the house of Clayborn has fallen on harder times than I figured, ehh, Jaxon?”
The thug in the clown outfit grinned at his bosses joke, and I gave both of them the fisheye. Benito swung the door closed and the carriage jerked into motion while I was still considering throwing them both back outside. Cate was better at handling a casual insult than I was, because she merely smiled politely and coughed delicately in one hand clearing her throat.
“Excuse me, gentleman. My name is Allison, and this is my associate Jezebel.” My head whipped around at her choice of name, but she kept talking as if I hadn’t reacted. “We’ve received the deposit for our services, with the rather generous portion of the retainer being held in escrow by our mutual friends. Jezebel will be joining you for the duration of the evening, while I mingle with the estate staff on the inside. I believe your companion will remain with the coach, as well as Peter the driver, and Benjamin the footman.”
I nodded in response as that matched the plan as I knew it, well all but the names at least. The viscount wasn’t as receptive to her little recap. “I don’t know why in hell I let my wife convince me to participate in this mummery. You’re here now and might as well come along, but if it all goes to shit and blades come out I can’t promise I’ll be able to get you back safe behind the lines. Your men looked sturdy enough, and Jaxon here could hold a line against all the devils of hell, but I doubt the three will be able to storm the doors in time to rescue you.”
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His sword, bearing, and word choice all seemed to click at once in my head, and I hurried to respond before the situation was beyond saving. “Excuse me, Allison, I believe I should handle this.” She looked mildly concerned but gave me a dignified nod to continue and I turned to face the count squarely. “You seem like you’ve seen a battlefield or two so I’m sure you’re aware of the problems with a split command. I’m not sure why you took your wife’s advice and brought in an expert, but since you have I recommend you listen to them. Once we’re inside if things get violent, I will take tactical command. I’m not a soldier, but I am a bodyguard and a good one. If you listen to me I can get us all back out alive and that is the mission here. Not holding ground or putting on a show for honor. If you can’t agree with that we perhaps should terminate this mummery as you called it right now.”
He gave me a long hard look and I just watched him calmly, waiting to see which way the wind would blow. Eventually a ghost of a smile played across his lips and he nodded. “Hah, this one has a mouth on her, ehhh, Jaxon? All right, little bodyguard. We go inside and if it gets rough I will follow your orders like a good soldier. If you get me killed though, my wife, she will be pissed. She could give you lessons in being a hard as nails tough woman, ehhh, Jaxon?” Through it all his official bodyguard Jaxon sat stoically, maybe even looking a little bored. He didn’t seem to talk much, but it didn’t seem to slow the viscount down from pouring a steady stream of observations at him. The nobleman continued to chatter about the carriage, the quality of my dress, a new Ethiopian gladiator who’d been making a name in the pit fights, he even managed a little soliloquy on the weather. Cate managed to prime him a time or two whenever he seemed to run dry, while I sat in silence and tried to let it all just wash over me. After a while I shot Jaxon a slow look of commiseration, and I understood why he looked like he liked to fight. If I worked for this guy on a daily basis I’d look forward to the chance of someone putting me out of my misery too.
After a while though, the carriage started to slow and Benito’s voice called through the wall of the carriage. “There’s men out along the edges of the estate. They’re wearing the right colors and everything looks peaceful though.”
The count rapped a heavy ring on his right hand on the roof of the carriage, sending a thump thump that should have been audible even to Patrick. “Carry on, up to the main house.” The carriage continued to roll along, but at a slower place that minimized our josteling and I was able to relax in my seat for a while instead of bracing to absorb the impacts. A few minutes later we pulled to a stop in an area full of people, judging by the noise. Benito opened the door to the coach with a solemn look on his face. The viscount went out first, then extended his hand and helped me out of the carriage with a formality that seemed stiff rather than galant. I followed him outside and saw a low walled courtyard, with a half dozen other carriages and a score of hangers on milling about and looking bored, with a couple of roughly dressed teens scurrying back and forth carrying buckets of water for the horses and generally looking like they were being run ragged. Jaxon and Cate disembarked next, and she drifted over to stand behind my shoulder and murmured in a soft voice. “It looks like we’re the last to arrive. It should cut down on the waiting time quite a bit.”
A finely dressed woman wearing one of those ridiculous tiny aprons came up to greet the viscount then, carrying a gilded finely engraved ladle I assumed must be some kind of badge of office. She seemed almost nervous as they exchanged greetings and she bid us leave our men here and follow her into the estate. I put it down to serving in some out of the way country villa and not being used to carrying out her duties in front of a crowd of strangers. The count tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led off after the woman, choosing a stride that was manageable but not exactly decorous with the slippers and ball gown type get-up I had on. I matched his pace without complaining, conscious of the eyes of dozens of people on us already.
There were wide stone steps leading up to a massive arched entryway with wooden double doors that seemed too heavy to actually be practical. The doors were propped open by a man in livery on each side, and they stared straight ahead instead of watching us as we passed through them. Inside was a long hallway, with hanging plants and a couple of low tasteful benches for visitors to wait if they’d arrived unannounced. We continued past following our guide towards the low sounds of conversations through to the open area at the end. It kicked out into some kind of solarium with tiled floors but no roof. There were more plants here in carefully sculpted arrangements and even a few fountains adding there burble to the low buzz of conversation. The room was full of men dressed like the count, with young women who were my own counterpart providing a bright contrast to all the grey heads. People with the plainer dress of Cate playing chaperone and maid seemed to be thinner on the ground, but they compensated with a few dozen men in white, carrying trays and circulating throughout the room.
Cate gave me a head bob of reassurance before drifting over and joining the commoners who had seemed to clump up near a set of low tables carrying punch bowls and glasses. The viscount guided me onward into the room, navigating aimlessly at first until he seemed to recognize someone at the far wall and headed us in a straighter course. One of the servants in front of us lifted his tray a few inches higher to receive an empty glass from a particularly tall noble, and at the base of his armpit I saw a three inch tear in the fabric, outlined with a blotch of dark brown. That looked a lot like someone had taken the shirt from a man who’d been stabbed directly in the heart so he wouldn’t bleed on the clothing and my grip clamped down on the viscounts forearm. He checked himself in midstep, not expecting the bruising force and looked down at me with an irritated scowl. I hissed at him, any pretense at my character forgotten, just anxious to convey the information quickly without being overheard. “You were right. This is a trap. We need to head back to the door, now.”
The idiot shook his head in negation. “That is my cousin the Earl over there. I’m obligated to at least exchange pleasantries before we make our excuses. Settle down, woman. The risk is what you were paid for.”
I considered a brief knee to the crotch before throwing him over my shoulder into a fireman’s carry, but I wasn’t sure I could make it to the door thus encumbered before someone stopped me. I let my eyes play over the crowd until I made eye contact with Cate and thrust my head in the direction of the exit. Her eyes widened and I don’t know if she caught my meaning, because at that moment a sound like chimes rang out and the room stilled as the host stepped onto the rim of one of the raised plantings near the center of the room. He still held the small knife and champagne flute he’d rapped together to make the sound and held both into the air like a conductor as the crowd quieted.
“Welcome, now that everyone is here I have a brief announcement to make. Death to tyrants!” With the final yell he dove off the platform and stabbed a rather fat nobleman who was dressed almost exclusively in silk and furs. The entire solarium dissolved into pandemonium as at the same time the serving people dropped their trays and pulled daggers of their own to attack targets of opportunity. I was already keyed up and primed for violence which was bad news for the waiter closest to us. He charged forward with his knife outstretched for the back of a man I didn’t know. Without really thinking about it I lunged in from the side and trapped his weapon hand and shoved the back of his arm up in a shoulder lock that I kept rolling forward into a throw. Unfortunately no one had ever taught this would be assassin how to take a fall because what should of knocked the breath out of him ended up with the ground slamming into the back of his head and neck. I straightened back up with his dagger in my hand now, not really sure if he was dead or just badly injured.
To my chagrin Viscount Clayborn hadn’t been idle either. The sword most nobles carried for show was a notched but still fully sharpened infantry man’s short sword in his case. He’d drawn his blade and charged into the fray, cutting down one of the men in white who was busy hacking through the raised hands of a noble who was trying to fend him off with nothing but bare palms. I thrust one hand down through the slit in my skirt, trying to retrieve my baton while I moved forward to corral my wayward charge. The few times I’d practiced in front of the mirror the sheath on my thigh had been easily reached, but walking forward in the moment I was having a hard time getting my hands through the gap in the petticoats. I had to slow down and take little mincing steps and when another man rushed towards me with blade in hand I made a show of screaming with wide eyes. He slowed and smiled as he lifted the blade with a dramatic flourish, wanting me to see the blow coming. The drama wasn’t a good idea on his part, because it left him open when I stabbed him with a straight thrust just above the collar bone, and I stepped wide and missed his return swing. I had my PR24 out now, and flicked it to the full extension as I started to jog towards the count. A hysterically screaming woman with someone else’s blood on her face latched onto my shoulder shouting for help, and I felt terrible as I spun breaking her grip, and watched her fall to her knees alone in a sea of battle.
The sound of metal ringing on metal drew my attention even over the clamor of fighting. A quartet of men in full armor had emerged from one of the side doors and I felt a knot of dread ball up in my stomach as I saw them cut down one of the burlier nobles who had so far managed to hold his own against the assassins. Reinforcements had indeed arrived, but unfortunately they were here for the other side. I cold cocked one of the men in white who was dueling a thin elderly gentleman with a saber as I passed. I had aimed the baton right at the base of his skull which was a red zone in police work, so odds were 50-50 on whether he was unconscious or dead. The old man saluted me with the tip of his already bloody blade, then without warning thrust forward towards me in a deep lunge at full extension and for a split second I thought I had made a deadly mistake. His blade razored past me close enough I might have been cut if this dress didn’t contain a corset, and plunged into the thigh of one of the waiters who’d come up behind me. His cry of pain gave me a chance to spin the baton back along my forearm and block his slashing cut at my face. When the old man drew back his blade a fountain of blood jetted through the cut in my opponents femoral artery and I shouted out “Thanks” as I hurried on.
The armored warriors were cutting through the lightly armed nobles with absolutely devastating effect. Even Clayborn, who’d steamrolled through the waiters like they were a minor annoyance had been forced back, slowly retreating but offering a sort of rearguard for several nobles who were trying to flee the battle. It couldn’t last forever though, and Clayborn had finally been pinned against a fountain unable to retreat. I came up from the side just as he managed to fend off an overhand strike that drove his upraised blade down but didn’t quite make it to his flesh. His return stroke was half hearted and barely seemed to register on the other man’s shield. It was a massive intimidating looking metal affair, like old pictures of what the crusaders would carry without the cross embossed on the front. I let my baton slide through my hand until it was inverted and slid the side handle under the bottom edge of the shield and used all the strength of my shoulders and back to yank it up, fowling the man’s return blow. Even better, it exposed him from the waist down, and without hesitating a lashed out with a sidekick into his knee. It caught him square on the joint, and he had enough weight on that leg to make it devastating, shoving the patella back through the joint and leaving his leg bent in a direction God had never intended it to go. The armored man howled in agony and crashed to the ground. Clayborn, who was a tad more vindictive than me apparently, stepped forward and rammed his sword down with an icepick grip straight through the visor of the other man’s helmet as he lay on the ground.
It crunched home with brutal finality, and the viscount struggled to pull his blade back and free. I put a hand on his arm to get his attention as I stepped forward onto the other man’s chest. My weight held the body in place so it was easier to pull against, and the viscount pulled his sword free with a wet schucking plop sound and just a hint of metal bending on the visor. The man finally looked over at me when he had control of his weapon again and I speared a hand through the chaos towards the entrance we had come through.
“Time to get the fuck out of here.”
He turned his head, scanning the chaos of the room. “We might be able to hold them. If we could rally the principles and take the doors I think we could hold here indefinitely.”
I saw yet another group of armored combatants come through a different side entrance and pointed in their direction. “They’ve got more people and a battle of attrition ends with us not existing. We cut our way to the door and maybe some of your people will be smart enough to follow us. Its the only option.”
He hesitated, but only for the barest fraction of a second before he nodded his head. He straightened out and in a hoarse voice oddly loud for his spare frame yelled over the crowd. “House Clayborn fights toward the door and our freedom, follow me.”
He charged forward then, running full tilt in a straight line for the hallway where we’d entered. He shoulder checked one of the armored soldiers who was battling another noble with one of the dueling blades like the one I had wanted. It rocked the count off to the side more than the heavier man he’d crashed into, but it gave the duelist an opening and that almost katana whipped over the top of the shield with less than a ¼ inch of clearance and took off the man’s head. The man wielding it almost flowed into place on Clayborn’s other side, there isn’t a better way to describe it and the three of us made a wedge that pushed through the chaos and towards the hallway.
The new guy was a tiger with that long blade, making economical sweeping cuts that invariably took arms and heads while he just seemed to be somewhere else when the others cut back. Clayborn was probably the dirtiest fighter I’ve ever seen, stomping feet, cutting exposed fingers on hilts and generally employing every miniscule advantage he could come up with. Twice I saw him kick dropped cups or other items on the floor underneath an enemy to screw with their footing, and follow up with savage attacks that usually ended the fight. I was effective because no one seemed to know what to expect from me. More than once I had an opponent try to shove me out of the way to engage one of the swordsman behind me, and if you ignore me in a fight I can make sure its over pretty damn quick. Most of the guys had apparently never been around jujitsu or judo or anything that relied on redirecting force, because the bum rush designed to overwhelm a smaller opponent seemed to be the preferred tactic. It almost felt like I was back in the dojo practicing my throws with an inexperienced uke, because I was able to get some amazing distance and power into the moves. The same old man who’d saved me earlier had fallen in behind us, and he had taken to smiling and and plunging a half inch of his sword point into throats and groins of the opponents I took down.
Some of the finely dressed ladies had joined the wake of our group, and mostly they just served to block traffic for people who tried to get in behind us, but I saw at least one shove a hatpin into a man’s eye in a lethal blow. Another of the women who was heavyset and enough older I was putting her as a wife instead of a mistress had picked up a sword somewhere, and she was banging away at opponents with plenty of enthusiasm if not skill. A trickle of other finely dressed but armed men joined us as we progressed, extending out the wings of our V. They were all at least competent if not deadly with their blades and I realized all the real non-combatants were probably already dead. Our people were in a functional group now, with swordswmen on the outside and those less capable in the middle. The flood of opponents started to thin, and I started to think we had a real shot of making it out of here.
Then we approached the entrance to the hallway itself. A line of the heavily armored soldiers was blocking the exits. The first row were shoulder to shoulder with their shields forming a wall well a few stood behind to take up a place or strike forward over their shoulders. It was like the formation riot police took up to disperse a crowd and I knew we would play hell making it through. Even Viscount Clayborn who’d moved forward incessantly since we started the charge slowed to a stop, and the sound of his breathing was loud in my ears. I was hoping the line would be dumb enough to come towards us, and be forced to spread out and cover more ground so we couldn’t flank around. They stood stock still just waiting on us to make our play. I was fine with that, in need of a bit of breather myself, but the other half of me was worrying they were just stalling until more reinforcements arrived, and this time it would be bowmen or some other kind of ranged weapon.
The crowd behind me began to stir as everyone got a good look at what we were facing. Some were trying to move up to the front of the line because they thought that only some of us would get through, while other shifted backwards hoping the worst of the fighting would be finished before they engaged. Then Cate showed up. Short, sexy, absolutely amazing Cate had slipped into the hallway right as trouble started and played dead. When we squared off against the line and it looked dire she had come back to life. The first I knew of her was when one of the guys in the middle of the back row screamed out in pain as she drove a dagger into his kidney from behind. She pulled it out in a backhanded slash into the neck of one of the men at the front of the line, then plunged it forward into a stab in the neck of the guy next to him. A gap opened in the line with 3 men dead in less than three seconds, and as they fell forward I saw her in the opening, face drawn up in a frown of concentration, just the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.
I charged forward, terrified of reprisals and that I might lose her to the rest of the armored men. The rest of our people were close behind me, anxious for escape. Cate spun on her heel and fled up the hallway to get clear of the carnage, and we crashed into the fight. I’d never charged a shield wall before, and the gap was almost closed by the time we’d made it. The viscount had made it in time and stepped into the opening though, immediately capturing the attention of the men on either side. If they ignored him he could have killed them both because he was past the shields, but each struck at him while keeping the line solid to the front. He parried one on his sword and the other with a belt knife, but that one came close enough blood showed up on his shoulder. The man who pinked him was directly across from me though, and he was facing the wrong way because of the count. I jumped over his shield. Not completely of course, while I’m athletic at 5’7” I can’t exactly dunk. I was able to jump high enough to put my knees into the top of his shield. The unbalanced blow rotated him a little further out of position, but more importantly, my momentum continued to carry my body over the shield line and I came down on top of him leading the way with a baton to the exact crown of his helmet with a brutal blow. He fell to the ground underneath, but I popped right back up because I had been expecting it. I took the opportunity to grab the next guy’s ankle while I had been down, shoving my baton up into his ribs as I stood, overbalancing him. As he hit the ground I ignored him and lunged forward to back up the count. He had a limited range of motion now with his left arm from the shoulder wound, and I was just able to parry a strike coming in from that side with my baton. The guy with the almost katana was on the back side of the line now too, and he didn’t hesitate, but spun and charged to the right. It was like watching a weedeater as that entire flank crumpled as he ran along killing the soldiers who were facing the wrong way. The rest of our group started flowing through the gap as my wing started to engage the last of the line to the left. Now our people had become the blocking force and I grabbed at the count as he started back.
“Down the hallway to the door. These people can either hold and fallback gradually or not, but we are leaving.”
He looked frustrated but nodded, and the nobles seemed to be holding their own as they gradually came back towards us. The viscount didn’t hesitate once the decision was made, charging down the hallway shoving his way through our own party that I found myself hard pressed to keep up. Cate fell in beside me as I ran, her knife already sheathed and a wild smile on her face.
“Hey, there Jezebel. It’s good to see you again.”
“I’d never been so glad as when you showed up, Alicia.”
She swatted me on the shoulder as we jogged. “I’m Allison, silly. You’ve got to keep the little details straight on a job like this.”
I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I don’t know if I ever want a job like this again.” There were only two soldiers at the end of the hall, and our group had already engaged them. I took a page from Clayborn’s dirty fighting playbook and threw a dagger into the fray. It pinked one of them on the elbow, but slowed down his stopthrust enough that he took a blade to the gut. The other could see the writing on the wall, and he threw down his sword and called out, “I yield.” One of the nobles calmly stepped up and slit his throat with an ornately engraved short sword. “Not fast enough you didn’t, scum.”
There was a faint sound like knocking at the door, and the sound of fighting still came from up the hallway. Some of the men crowded close, struggling to lift the massive bar that held the door close. I didn’t interfere because shifting heavy loads was definitely more in their wheelhouse than mine. I checked on the Viscount. He had a scowl on his face as one of the serving girls who’d made it pressed a handkerchief to the cut on his shoulder. He had his blade in his hand though and looked ready for anything. I scooted in front of Cate though and breathed deeply to center myself. Whatever was on the other side of the door, I wanted to be ready too.
I caught the tail end of a chant, “and three, heave.” before there was a sound of scraping then a resounding boom in the echoing hallway as the men dropped the crossbar. One of the doors immediately started to open, and I darted forward, ready to pass through as soon as daylight was visible. There was a giant of a man standing there with an axe cocked back, and I heaved a sigh of relief as soon as I saw him. He gave me a grim nod as whoever else it was continued to pull the massive doors.
“Where’s my sister in law and the count?”
“They’re inside, safe as long as we get these damn doors open. What took you so long?”
The door finally shifted far enough I could slip through while turned sideways, again briefly thankful for the corset. As soon as I made it outside I could answer my own question. The giant wooden door had definitely been doing battle with the axe in Patrick’s hand. He hadn’t made it through yet, but there was at least a six inch divot gouged into the surface. There was also blood splashed on the front of Patrick’s outfit, and I reached out a tentative hand and dabbed at it.
“Everyone in one piece out here?”
“It was a slaughter. Most of the nobles chose to bring their A game, even though they had to leave them out here. The courtyard was full of some of the best in the kingdom. Some armored mercenaries hit us a few moments ago, but we sent them off with their tails between their legs. A couple of groups took off to look for another way into the estate, I stayed with the folks trying to force the front doors.”
The rest of the group was filing out now, the door wide enough they could come two abreast and there was a flurry of people on the steps as folks looked to group up with their party. There was a pause in the flow of refugees as a couple of anxious soldiers on the outside shoved there way forward into the building in search of their principals. The slender noble with the katana who’d helped clear the path walked towards me, blade naked in his hand. His hair was mussed and he had blood on his fine clothing, but his face was utterly composed and he might as well have been walking in the park. When he got to me he took my hand in one of those sideways lady handshakes that people from down South insist on, and bowed. “House Verin owes you a debt.” He straightened then and I shrugged, not sure how to respond.
“I’m just an associate of House Clayborn tonight. We wouldn’t have made it out without your blade as well. I say that puts us pretty much even.”
“Never the less.” He pulled a silver metal case from the sash around his waist like a metal cigarette case. He opened it one handed and held out what looked like a slim paste board card. I took it out of reflex and looked down. It had a stylized number 7 in the center with pictures of a battle hand painted around it. There was a complicated version of poker played at the bar with cards like these, and I looked up at the man with a confused expression. He nodded at the card in my hand and turned to walk away. “House Verin pays its debts.”
Patrick shrugged at me, and I tucked the card into my dress. I would worry about it later. He and I cleared out of the way by heading over towards where the carriage was parked. He started doing horsey things and checking harnesses and whatnot, as I surveyed the crowds looking for our people. Soon enough Benito ushered Cate over toward as as a disheveled Jaxon escorted the viscount, gore still dripping from his blade. They were discussing options as they approached and it was the first time I’d ever actually heard Jaxon speak. He had an oddly pleasant tenor that seemed at odds with his thuggish appearance, although the words themselves fit right in.
“Leave me here to mark trail in case they flee, milord. You can have a full company on the way in moments after you arrive home. I’m sure some of the others will have troops at the ready as well. We’ll put the estate to the torch and I’ll have answers from the survivors before you hang them.”
“Mobilizing without the king’s blessing or a call from parliment is forbidden, Jaxon, and I’ll not face those accusations at court. We both know who is behind this and these are merely hired blades. The real battle will be fought in the halls of power and we should return now and begin marshalling our forces. That’s the end of it, I have made my decision.”
Jaxon looked pissed but he jumped up into the coach without waiting for Benito to put the steps down. The viscount sheathed his blade before he followed suit. I noticed Benito was favoring his side where he’d taken some kind of wound in the battle on the outside and I waved him away when he came around to attach the steps. Instead I put a hand on each of Cate’s hips, and she instinctively reached up and braced herself on my shoulders. I yanked her in and up before I used both of our masses to pivot and thrust out along the same line. It swung her up into the air and over to the door of the carriage, depositing her feet gently on the threshold. She gave a startled yip in the air and stared down at me. I gave her hips a brief squeeze before I released her, pleased that skill had let me duplicate what it should have taken the brute strength of Patrick to accomplish. She chuckled and disappeared into the coach and I gathered my hem to a height that must have been fairly scandalous but would assure I didn’t face plant right after showing off, before I leapt up to follow.
Patrick set the team into motion, and we rocked out of the courtyard before I’d even managed to take a seat. Everyone was silent at first, I think we were all a little stunned that it was all over. Predictably enough, it was the Viscount who broke the spell, and he was fulsome in his praise. He recounted each of our roles in the battle to Jaxon, and if I don’t recall quite so many flying kicks to the face on my part, or Cate nee Allison actually beheading one of the soldier’s on the line, if anything the Count downplayed his own accomplishments. Jaxon responded to the Viscount’s repeated questions fairly plainly, summing up everything that happened in a couple of lines. “A bunch of sellswords and some gutter trash like you’d find with a press gang tried us, couldn’t stomach the butcher’s bill to let their numbers wear us down. Better led troops or some bowmen might have done it, but they didn’t have either.”
The viscount offered both Cate and I the pick of his enlisted men to marry, I think with one eye to breeding his own super soldiers like some lords did with hounds. We both demurred, Cate more politely than I, and he promised to throw in a little extra with the bonus being held in escrow. He seemed oddly energized by the battle even though I was exhausted, and was still chatting away animatedly to Jaxon as they both disembarked when we reached his home.
The carriage seemed much quieter when the men had offloaded, and Cate hit me with a wan smile. “That was a bit rougher than I’d expected, but overall went quite well I believe.”
“That was raging clusterfuck, my dear. I can’t believe none of us wound up seriously wounded or dead, Cate. We were so lucky it’s not even funny.”
“Don’t be modest. It wasn’t all luck. If you hadn’t warned me beforehand I don’t know if I could have made it to the hallway in time. The way you were going through the crowd, too. How did you learn to throw people like that?”
I chuckled in response. “Mostly by getting thrown myself, lots and lots of time. It’s an art from one of the eastern kingdoms.” I temporized, trying to stay truthful without giving enough details I wouldn’t be believed. “I started taking lessons from a master of it several years ago. What I can do is nothing compared to a real expert.”
“Hmmn, well its certainly useful. I have to say I didn’t expect to get manhandled like that when you put me into the cart.”
At the almost serious tone to her voice I leaned over and hesitantly placed my hand on hers in apology. “I’m sorry. I was trying to hurry but I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Darling, I wasn’t offended.” She leaned in and kissed me then. Her lips tasted like the faintest hint of strawberries, and were utterly soft and full under mine. Her wet strong tongue slipped between my own parted lips and I was lost in the moment, incapable of thought. A wheel of the carriage struck a pothole and we were jarred back to reality and I drew back to my own seat. We were both breathing heavily and I’m sure the desire I saw in her eyes were mirrored in my own. The traitorous part of my brain though, spoke of reality. A cold thought I desperately wanted to ignore stole through to the forefront. 3 silver coins and this task would be finished. I would go back to my cell and never see her again. Part of me ached to embrace her again anyway. Maybe I could cheat the system somehow and refuse the money. Maybe I could pick Cate up and take her back into the cell with me. Tear her away from the only world she’s ever known to force her into a life in prison with me. Yeah, that sounds like something you do to someone you care about. I took a deep shuddering breath, and exhaled slowly. Repeated it yet again, somehow unable to find my center.
“Cate, I’m sorry. I enjoyed that, oh God, did I ever enjoy that, but we shouldn’t be together. It’s complicated, but us, there is just no way it would ever work out.”
Her face shifted, for the briefest moment there was a look a look of pain and a little girl lost and my heart broke inside, then it hardened before a mask of good natured composure came back and she gave a brittle laugh.
“I know that, Julie. Just thought you deserved a little surprise of your own in revenge for the one you gave me. Don’t read anything into it. I’m exhausted after all this excitement, think I’ll catch a few winks on the way back to the Walk Right Inn if you don’t mind.”
She leaned back into the plush leather seats and the rest of the ride passed in silence.