The Thundering Queen was located in a small, nameless cluster of buildings stretching between the low street and the slum's central square. It was still technically in the slums, but was near enough to the Elysium hills and the main strip that it wasn't defined purely by poverty. From his cottage, Gideon walked east through the slums, then north to the central square.
For some reason he’d half expected to see the skinless corpses still hanging from Kali’s statue, then felt foolish after seeing that wasn’t the case. It’d been weeks since they’d been strung up. It would have been strange if the city watch had left them hanging for so long, and he felt grateful to not have to look at them again.
The square buzzed with activity, with hundreds of moving feet kicking up clouds of dust that rose high into the air. Many passersby hauled small carts with them as they traversed the square, doing for themselves what should’ve been a job for pack animals.
A ring of food vendors had formed around Kali’s statue: selling bread, mostly, but Gideon saw one stall offering dates and cactus fruit. He guessed they’d received a shipment of desert fruits from Kenan recently, and wasn’t terribly surprised to see the stall was quite popular. Spring was still months away, and fresh fruit would be a rare commodity for the next six months.
Hussars were present in the square as well. Most simply marched through to other destinations in the slums, but some were clearly on patrol as they weaved through the crowds. Gideon watched as a squad of hussars stopped a dark skinned Forelian slave and began to forcibly search through his cart, carelessly tossing his things onto the street to be trampled by passersby.
Would Surelin want me to stop them?
Shaking his head, Gideon navigated away from the hussars through the swarms of people and carts, headed north. He remembered visiting the Thundering Queen at some point during his bender, though he couldn’t remember much about it beyond its location and the fact that he’d been there.
After exiting the square he reached the tavern within minutes. It was a windowless white and brown timber-framed building squeezed between two tall manor houses, the kind of place that was easy to miss in the clutter of structures lining both sides of the street. No signpost existed for the tavern, and if it were located on the market street that might’ve meant the place was rather exclusive. But in the slums, taverns rarely saw any need to publicly display their names, mostly because their clientele were almost always locals.
Gideon stepped inside and discovered that the place was quite busy despite the early morning hour. Taverns in the slums sometimes doubled as an inn of sorts, a spot where a person could get a temporary room or get something to eat, if they didn’t want to get a drink. The Thundering Queen was clearly a popular breakfast destination.
Barmaids carrying trays full of food weaved past tables filled with diners underneath the dull yellowish glow of glass ceiling lamps. All in all, the tables occupied most of the tavern’s space, with a curving bar filling out the far left corner. Behind the bar stood a heavyset Losoan bartender, serving drinks to people sitting on stools opposite him. Across from the bar in the far right corner rested a raised dais of sorts, and on top of it sat a young black haired Losoan man, playing a quiet tune on a lute for the diners.
Do I remember this place because of the lute player?
Motion at the bar grabbed his attention. Julian sat at the bar’s end by the wall, waving to him. He was wearing his wingless city watchman’s armor.
Gideon navigated through the tables, and sat down on the stool next to him.
“There he is,” Julian crowed. “Dance’s piss drunk bastard.”
“Fuck off,” Gideon growled.
Julian laughed, then turned towards the bartender. “Bring us a bottle of whiskey.”
Gideon watched the bartender intently as he brought it over with two shot glasses.
“Seems you had quite the day yesterday,” Julian said, smirking.
“I did?”
“Yep. The diviners said you stumbled into their temple and ranted at them about slavery and other random bullshit for hours.”
“...Oh.”
“They called us in after you tried to feed whiskey to their statue of Kali. Made a nice mess of their carpets.”
A quiet, frustrated sigh left Gideon, and Julian let out a dry chuckle as he poured whiskey into the shot glasses.
He lifted his glass for a toast.
“To the slave princess!”
Gideon raised a wary eyebrow at him, but accepted the toast. He swallowed the whiskey, and an intense feeling of relief washed over him the moment it touched his tongue.
“We know about your involvement with the slaves. Hey, relax,” Julian added quickly as Gideon angrily narrowed his eyes at him. “They hired you to free their princess and join the attack on the Capellas, right?”
Gideon stared at him. He thinks they hired me? Huh. Well, I’ve got no reason to correct him.
“But I don’t work for them, I work for the Manicini,” Julian continued. “I can convince my bosses your involvement with the slaves was just business. Also…”
He leaned over to whisper. “We know what happened with the murdered hussar.”
Alarm instantly crashed over Gideon.
“I said relax, kid. His wife and children explained it. You saved them, right?”
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“...Yeah,” Gideon replied warily.
“Then don’t look so upset. Look, if you’re worried about the great houses coming for you over this slave shit, don’t. They know as well as we do that this is just how it goes. One day you’re working for them, next day you’re working for us.”
“...If you don’t care about any of that then why the fuck am I here?”
Julian ignored him. “That win you pulled off at the tourney in Kenan was impressive. What’d you do with the money?”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “I spent it.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah all of it, so what?”
Julian let out some barking laughter. “I’m just curious, kid. What, you got something against two old friends catching up?”
We aren’t friends, Gideon thought, staring at him.
“I killed Romus,” he said conversationally.
The smile on Julian’s face briefly faltered, and he tried to cover it by moving to pour himself another shot.
“Did you?”
“Yeah. He tried to rob me after the tournament.”
Julian shook his head before swallowing his drink. “...What a stupid asshole.”
“Weren’t you two friends?”
Gideon heard a hint of anger in Julian’s voice. “Friendly enough, sure. But that’s the business.”
“That’s the business,” Gideon agreed.
“He got angry over the strangest shit. Took offense to things other men wouldn’t even bat an eye at. Even leapt to the wrong conclusions sometimes just to get mad, it seemed. Pretty sure he thought you were getting special treatment from Dance.”
A burst of surprised laughter left Gideon. “...Dance hated me.”
“I know,” Julian said, then shrugged.
A moment of silence fell between them, and Gideon looked down at his empty shot glass, thinking.
It feels like he’s trying to get something from me, but I can’t tell what.
He looked over at Julian. “So what’d you do after Forelia?”
“Me? Didn’t do anything nearly as interesting as winning a tournament. I took a caravan back here and joined the city watch. Got married, too.”
Gideon’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Oh. Congratulations.”
Julian grinned at him. “The honest life is just as fucking boring as campaigning, but going home to the same bed and same woman every night isn’t so bad.”
“Hm,” Gideon grunted.
“Why don’t you join up?” Julian abruptly asked. “The great houses pay hand over fist for experienced mercs like us.”
“What,” Gideon scoffed. “Wait, that’s what this is about? You’re trying to fucking recruit me?”
“Yep. And why not? You’re clearly out of a job. And you said you’re out of money too, right?”
Gideon frowned.
“This kinda life really isn’t so bad. And the Manicini won’t give two squirts about your time working for the slaves if I make it clear it was just business. They’ve also got deep fucking pockets, Gideon.”
“So you’re just offering me a job out of the goodness of your heart? That’s what you’re expecting me to believe?”
“I’ll get a commission if you sign up,” Julian replied bluntly.
They stared at each other for a moment, gauging one another.
“A pretty big one. Since you’re an experienced swordsman,” he added.
I think I actually believe him. He’s not really the conspiring type. But joining the city watch? Nah, fuck that.
“No thanks,” Gideon said firmly.
Julian seemed chagrined for a moment, but shrugged it off. “I thought that’s what you’d say. Wife and I have been looking at moving out of the slums, and a big commission would’ve helped, but…”
He shrugged again. “In any case, the offer will stay open. Though, if you do go back to working for them it would probably close this door for good. Know what I mean? Also, don’t think you can get drunk and go around harassing people again. Last night was a one time thing, so long as you’re not with us.”
“I get it.”
“Do you?” Julian asked with a furrowed brow. “Hey, you do know that Dance had other bastards, right?”
Gideon’s mouth fell open with shock.
“So you didn’t know? Yep, he sure did. Whenever we’d stop back here or at any other shithole out on the trail he’d get drunk, and nine months later some poor woman would pop out a kid. Well, he was always popular to a fault with women. You're far from being the only one, you’re just the one who caused us the worst problem.”
“I don’t, uh…” Gideon trailed off, flabbergasted. Some part of him didn’t want to believe it, but another part of him knew for certain it was true.
“I can probably track some of them down for you,” Julian said. “If you want. I’ve got some connections in the city watch I can use for that. Won’t do it for free, though.”
“...No,” Gideon said, shaking his head quickly. “I don’t want to know anything about them. It's better if I don’t know.”
Julian gave him a careless smile. “Suit yourself. Hey, word of advice. If you’re not gonna come work with us, try to get out of Loso. Or out of the slums, at the very least. The resistance is making things bad. Kali knows what’s gonna happen, but it’s only gonna get worse before it gets any better.”
Gideon got to his feet. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
“Alright then. Here—”
Julian snatched the bottle of whiskey off the bar and handed it to Gideon.
“Take this with you. Call it a reunion gift.”
“Thanks,” Gideon said with sincere gratitude as he accepted it.
“Sure. I'm here most mornings, so come see me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t. See you around.”
“See you,” Julian grinned.
Gideon turned away from him then and left the tavern, bottle in hand.
----------------------------------------
He took the walk back to his cottage slowly, thinking over their conversation.
Why’d he tell me about the others? That fucker…
It was an entirely unwelcome wrinkle to his situation, one he didn’t want to think about.
I wonder how many are out there.
He shook his head, and forced himself to think about something else.
He’s right about leaving Loso. How should I do it, though?
After pondering it for a while, he remembered Kara.
She offered me a job, right? Or wait, didn’t she say something about being done with it? Ah, fuck it. Maybe I’ll sign on with someone else. A caravan going east, maybe.
The longer he seriously considered leaving Loso, the more Surelin began to crowd into his thoughts.
That’s over, he told himself. It’s done. There’s no way for me to ever see her again.
An unusually warm breeze began to blow down the street he was walking on, pushing away winter’s chill for a moment.
Gideon looked up at the warming sun, and surprised himself by suddenly offering the first prayer of his life.
Kali or…Kaan, whoever you are or whatever they call you. If you do exist, then please help her bear her burdens. She needs all the backup she can get.