However odd and strange the whole scenario was with the moon, Gilda had a feeling that the strangers would help her, and so she tried her best to stall the men dragging her away. She buckled her body, thrashing and pulling her arms to no avail. The two men were bigger and stronger than her, and she tired out easily. Most of the people in the crowd were too drunk off the ale and nights’ festivities to pay her efforts much mind. They probably thought she was some heiress, snuck to experience Sommersfest in all of its glory and got caught by daddy’s men, to bring her back home. That line of thought wasn’t too far from the truth, she reasoned.
Suddenly, there was a reaction from the crowd not too far off. “I’m going to need this one, folks!” she heard in the distance, and her stomach dropped with dread as she heard the distant whinnying of horses. The throng of people were scrambling to make way. Gilda could see that the dangerous man from earlier had hopped atop a cart pulled by a couple of horses and was running through the crowd and stalls like a madman. People were screaming, and the two men pulling Gilda along started to move quicker. A little to the right side of all the commotion, she could see a faint figure leaping up atop one of the lampposts, and looking to survey the situation. From the hunched figure, Gilda was certain it was the old man who had licked the dirt from off his finger from earlier. Instinctively, she turned her head to her left, scouring the crowds, and was not disappointed. The young woman was shoving her way through the crowd, eyes narrowed and face intense with concentration. There seemed to be some sort of stick, maybe two or three feet long in her hand.
“Come on people, move out of my way!” Came the impatient voice of the madman being pulled by the horses. He didn’t seem to have control of the animals as they stopped heading towards her and seemed to be galloping in a slight curve, turning away from her. People were yelling and pointing at the sight. Before the horses pulled the cart too far off track from Gilda however, the man leaped into the air, and landed on the shoulders of drunken bystanders, who were clustered together to get out of the way of the horses and used them as stepping stones to his destination. He made his way closer towards her and the two men dragging her off. A couple of times, the madman’s black boots pushed off unforgivingly from the face of an unfortunate soul, bringing him closer towards his target.
Gilda couldn’t see the old man atop the lamppost anymore. Just as quickly as he had clambered up, he was gone, mixed in with the crowd somewhere. “Let the girl go!” The sharp voice barked, and Gilda saw that the stick the woman had been holding from earlier unexpectedly grew longer. She somehow managed to close the distance between them and got closer, swinging what looked to be a pike at the three of them. The stick whizzed in front of Gilda and her eyes widened in fear. It swiped above her head, a few inches short of catching the two men still pulling her away. They started shoving through the crowds more quickly, trying to get away from the woman.
The madman was getting closer, bringing the eyes and noise of the crowd with him. His left foot landed and pushed off the shoulder of an unsuspecting man at the cookie vendor that Gilda had swiped a treat from earlier. The poor man’s purchase fell to the ground as the sudden weight caught him by surprise and he stumbled, crying out in pain. “What are ya doin’ ya brute?!” Cried the man in anger. It was too late. The other man had already launched himself off and propelled himself towards the thug to Gilda’s right, a pistol out and in his grip, ready to make his strike. The captor turned around at the commotion and ducked his head just in time to dodge the butt of a pistol flashing past his face. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to dodge the body of a full grown man as he crashed into him. The dark haired madman had finally made it to his destination, crashing into the kidnapper on her right unceremoniously
“Ahhhhhh!” Gilda yelped as the man to her right jerked at her shoulder with a sudden force as he tumbled to the ground. Her arm felt as if it would be pulled out of its socket, but she managed to wrestle it free and stand upright without falling into the mix of two bodies.
“Oof!” As if on cue, the man to Gilda’s left released his hold on her and fell to the ground as he lost his balance, head slamming into the pavement face first. While everyone was distracted by the theatrical display of the madman, the old man from earlier managed to catch up to Gilda and her kidnappers without notice. In his hand was a tiny flask with its cork popped off. He seemed to have poured some sort of liquid on the ground in front of the kidnapper to Gilda’s left. Finally free from her kidnappers and aware of all the attention the rescue mission had gathered, Gilda locked eyes with the young woman that emanated with warmth from earlier and ran into her arms, trying to hide as much of herself as possible into the other woman’s body.
The crowd of people nearby, still drunk off the nights’ festivities seemed to lose some interest after Gilda’s rescue. Some resumed the haggling at vendors’ stalls, some resumed their own arguments and drinking, but Gilda knew there were still others in the crowd that kept a watchful eye on the situation.
“What are you guys doing with the little girl?” His voice was low and deadly. Gilda turned her head to the side so she could see, and felt her stomach churning at the scene before her. The dark haired madman from earlier managed to wrestle himself on top of the other kidnapper, a knee on his back and gun pointed at the back of his head.
“I-I…,” the dark haired man whacked him on the head with the butt of his pistol and stood up, walking around to the front of the man now on the ground. He leaned down and with one hand, pulled the man closer towards his face, and the other hand, shoving his pistol into his mouth.
“Come on now, why are you taking the girl?” He questioned through gritted teeth slowly, eyes glaring holes into the kidnappers face. “Don’t make me kill you.”
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Blood was starting to drip down the side of the kidnapper’s face where the madman hit him with the pistol earlier. “It’s just business, nothin’ personal,” the man managed to say with the pistol still in his mouth.
The madman’s face turned into a snarl, “Then who is your employer?” He cocked the pistol, getting ready to shoot.
“Stop! Please!” Gilda cried, unable to take it anymore. She didn’t realize that her fists were tightly clenched around the skirt of the young woman’s dress.
Sensing her discomfort at the scene, the young woman started pulling Gilda back further into the crowd, “Shhh, I’ve got you.”
The dark haired man raised his head to look at them, rolling his eyes, “Ugh!” He turned his attention back to the kidnapper, shoving the pistol deeper into his mouth. “Look, you had better tell me now or I will shoot you right here, man.” The kidnapper was trembling in fear, and managed a muffled reply. “What? I didn’t hear you!”
“He said it was a Dr. Manheim,” crowed the old man. He was so silent and patient, Gilda had forgotten he was there at all. It looked like the dark haired man forgot about him too, because he looked up at him, startled. The old man had made his way over to him during the questioning and was now only a few steps away. He had drawn a sword from what looked like the handle of a cane he was holding, and was poking it lightly into the back of the kidnapper, menacingly, as if telling him not to try anything.
The dark haired man paused slightly at the answer. Then slowly, he pulled the pistol out of the man’s mouth. “P-p-please,” the kidnapper begged. Once the pistol was fully out of the kidnapper’s mouth, the dark haired man quickly raised it and smacked him on the head again, this time, knocking him out.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” the young woman said to Gilda, squeezing her shoulders before letting go. She weaved in and out of the crowd quickly, searching the pockets of the first kidnapper to be knocked out, before heading over to the next body.
Gilda felt uncomfortable in the crowd, and could hear people gossiping about the incident already. From a distance, she thought she could hear the whistles of constables. Her heart started to pound faster at the thought. She pushed her way past the crowds and to her newfound companions. The young woman was still searching the pockets of the second kidnapper, while the other two men stood silently, watching. “W-we… we have to go! The constables will be here soon.”
The young woman stopped her search and stood up immediately. The dark haired man pocketed his pistol, and the old man… snored? The three of them turned their attention to him and looked more closely. Sure enough, the man was asleep, eyes closed, still standing in an upright position. The sword was nowhere in sight, and he was leaning slightly on his cane. The three looked back at each other, speechless. Finally, it was the dark haired madman who spoke first, “Alright fine, I know a place. Follow me! Wait… but first…” he picked up the kidnapper who he had knocked out, and carried him a couple of steps before tossing him into the nearby gutter. Then he walked back and tossed the old man over his shoulder in the same fashion as the kidnapper, making sure to grab the cane in his other free hand. “Come on, hurry up!”
As they slipped past the crowds of people, eyes were still on them, but none dared to follow after the chaotic display of violence. Gilda could only hope that no one would notice her for who she really was. She nuzzled herself into the woman from earlier, trying to melt herself away from the drunken eyes of festival goers. She kept her head down as they moved, eyes locked onto the dirty cobblestone floors. It hadn’t rained in weeks, yet some parts of the ground were wet - drenched in spilled liquor.
“My name is Lexa Demins,” came the warm voice. Lexa, she liked the sound of that name. As a response, Gilda squeezed her hand in acknowledgement. She was growing tired. They were traveling through dark alleyways and back passages now. Rosenheim wasn’t normally a dangerous place, but Gilda learned the hard way that alleyways should be avoided when traveling alone in the dark. They passed by a couple of groups of men huddled together, but their pace never slowed, and neither Lexa nor the madman leading the way showed any caution.
A few minutes later, they stopped behind a metal door. The passage they were standing in was empty and the sounds of the festival and the whistles of the constables were barely audible. “Alright, here we are. Don’t go around telling anybody about this place, got it?” The man glared at Lexa and Gilda before giving the door a tug, and leading them inside, the old man still on his shoulders and fast asleep. If he was tired, he didn’t show it. “Watch your steps,” he called behind him as he entered. They walked inside the door, and immediately it slammed shut behind them. Gilda gripped Lexa’s hand even tighter in the darkness. There were steps leading down in a short spiral before they reached a room lit by the moon and street lamps above on the main street. They were in a basement of some sort, and she could smell the strong scent of liquor. As her vision stabilized, she could see barrels and barrels of the liquid in the room. The madman laid the old man down on the only table in the room and rounded towards Gilda, “Alright, now speak. I want to know what happened back there tonight. Who are you and why did those men want you?” His menacing form caused Gilda to shrink back into the shadows of the room, afraid that he might hurt her.
“Hold on a second!” Lexa stepped in front of Gilda protectively, arms crossed. “Before you go around demanding to know about other people, why don’t you introduce yourself, first?”
Gilda peeked out from behind at the dangerous man, and could see him rolling his eyes at the request. “The name’s Auron, and I just busted my behind to save that girl, so I think I can demand whatever answers I want,” he retorted.
Lexa stepped forward, advancing towards the man angrily, “You didn’t have to help her, so don’t you hold that over her head. You seem to be a grown man, you can make your own choices. And it will do you well to remember that you weren’t the only one involved in saving her!” By the end of her rant, Lexa was right in front of the man, finger stabbing into his chest.
Just before the man - Auron, was it? - had a chance to reply, Gilda decided it was best to speak up before things got violent. Her voice was quiet and soft as she looked towards the ground, “My name… it’s... Gilda.” Her eyes darted up to lock with Lexa’s. “I’m Gilda Roosa.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. You’re Gilda Roosa? The Gilda Roosa? Of the Ardent Rose?” Gilda jumped as Auron barked madly with laughter. “We just saved the most important religious figure in the city! Aren’t you supposed to be holed up in a church somewhere or something?”
Lexa’s sympathetic eyes narrowed once again as they snapped back towards Auron, “You! Just shut up, for a second, will you?” Suddenly without much warning, Gilda felt like she couldn’t keep up with the excitement of the night any longer. Her head was growing heavy, and her balance was off. The alarmed voice of Lexa seemed far away, as the world around her started to spin and grow dark. She could feel herself falling in slow motion onto the cold cellar floor painlessly before everything became black.