CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
*~~~**~~~*
Jameson Wicket
*~~~**~~~*
20th of Decepter, 935 PC
----------------------------------------
Cora’s knees were bent just enough to put some speed in her feet if she needed it. She held a wooden dagger in each hand, one tip up, one tip down like he’d taught her. A matching sword hung from shoulder to hip across her back because it was too big to hang at her side without dragging on the ground. All the bouncing around like a little ball of energy had left her cheeks flushed a rosy red.
“She looks like a fighter,” Garth Buxton said. Big old boy, Garth was. The kind that had to duck when he entered a room. Sometimes he even had to turn sideways going through the skinnier doors. He was intimidating enough to make a child find somewhere else to play when he came around – tattoos all over his massive arms, bald head that showed the veins, and an axe across his back at all times – but for the little ones who were brave enough to get to know him, he treated them like brothers and sisters. He’d give them rides on his shoulders and do things with his powerful magic that no child could possibly witness and not lose control of their excitement. He was like a fun uncle that came around during the new year. The one you never had to warm back up to because the warmth never cooled off in the first place.
Somewhere deep down, Wicket wasn’t sure how he felt about Cora’s interest in fighting but he couldn’t deny the proud grin that had been on his face for the last hour.
“He sure don’t,” Wicket whispered and pointed sneakily.
Maddy stood on the other side of the room, breathing heavily and holding two wooden daggers of his own. He’d taken them by the blade when Garth had handed them to him. An honest mistake right now, but one Wicket didn’t let slide. Not since the boy was heading off for the most dangerous place in the empire in a few hours.
Maddy was at least a foot taller than Cora and had the first signs of muscle in his arms but so far, he’d taken shots everywhere but the head. No way to know how many times he’d died already.
Shade Loe strolled up to Maddy with his typical grace and put the boy’s arms in a position that might actually do something. Then he said something only the two of them could hear and walked away. Wicket was yet to see the man without his black hood but even so, he could tell there was no hair underneath. There was no hair anywhere on his face either except his brow. He was kind of innocent-looking if you could get past his eyes which made him look like a predator lurking in the night. The rest of his clothes were black too, leather from head to toe. The perfect get up for a man that did his work in the shadows. If there was anyone that could teach a kid how to use a dagger on short notice, it was Shade. An assassin of assassins is how Alaric had explained him and Wicket couldn’t argue after he’d seen the man sparring with Diedro in the snow the night before. What a sight that’d been, one man performing a deadly dance that kept your eyes from looking anywhere else, another moving quick enough to be his shadow. There’d been spins, flips, and lunges no man should be able to do. Young things. Things that made Wicket’s body sore just thinking about them. Still, as impressive as Shade was, he’d put his money on Diedro – can’t kill what you can’t touch. He’d left Shade panting and shaking his head in disbelief.
“Let’s see it,” Shade said to the young bucks.
Cora came out quickly, too quickly in his mind but they weren’t there to work on her. She’d be safe in the inn while Maddy walked right into the lion’s den. She lunged, fast and low, swiping her blade at Maddy’s legs. He lurched back just in time and swung clumsily at the stumpy arm in front of him but it was gone by the time his dull blade moved through the air. Cora spun out of the attack and brought her other arm around long and strong. At least, for a child with seven years to her name. The tip of the blade caught Maddy in the side of his neck. The groan was the closest thing to words he’d said since getting dragged into this mess.
“Oh!” Garth threw his big old arms in the air, almost catching Wicket’s head on their way up. “Atta girl! Knock his head in!”
“Oh. Ouch!” Cora said. “I thought ya was gonna duck. I’m sorry.” She might have looked sorry with her open mouth and wide eyes but Wicket knew she was bursting at the seams with excitement on the inside.
“He has to learn,” Garth said. “Them Lotus won’t take it easy on ya either, boy. Gotta think fast and move faster or the next blade that hits your neck will go right through it.”
Shade stepped between the young ones. “Don’t be sorry. That was an excellent combination.” He looked at Maddy. “You’d be dead if that blade was real.” The silent boy nodded his head at the assassin like he was well aware. “You have to do what I tell you. You won’t stand a chance otherwise.” Now, Maddy looked annoyed, like he thought all this was unnecessary. Shade guided him toward the door to lecture him some more.
Wicket crossed his arms on his chest proudly. Hearing someone like Shade say his daughter was good with a blade made him happy. Poor girl hadn’t been given the gift of magic. A ball of dread in the pit of his stomach had figured she’d end up with her nose in the books like her mother. What a relief it had been when he’d caught Cora playing with his real dagger a year ago. The look on her face had told him right away she wanted to fight someday.
Cora came over to him. “Did you see that?” She spoke quietly but sounded as proud as he felt.
“Reckon I was right here watchin’,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “Your footwork has gotten better, little one.”
“Manaya worked on it with me every day while you was gone.” Wicket held back a frown. He’d thought working on Cora’s fighting was their thing. Of course, you have to be around to have a thing with someone, he reckoned. She glanced toward Shade who was coming back to the middle of the room. His apprentice followed, looking different than before. Determined? Maybe angry? Whatever it was, Wicket knew Cora was in trouble but she was still floating in the clouds, acting confident as ever, blinded by the delicious taste of success. What’s obvious isn’t always so obvious for children.
“Get at it,” Shade said, swinging his palms inward to bring the sparring partners together.
Cora moved first, giving two stutter steps then bringing a foot up with every intention to put a dusty print on Maddy’s chest. To everyone’s surprise he dodged the kick, not smoothly but he’d done it, and let foot slam down on the floor clumsily. Unfortunately for Cora, the surprises didn’t end there. Maddy thrust the pommel of his dagger forward while Cora’s legs were still stretched a bit too far to have her balance. She raised her hands but was too slow. His fist caught her in the mouth and sent her stumbling backward, almost falling.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Sweet hell! What a punch!” Garth said. “That’s more like it boy!”
Maddy looked at Wicket so fast, so wide-eyed, and so nervously he thought the boy might piss his pants and run out of the room.
“It’s alright, boy. Teach her not to get off balance.” He looked at his daughter. “Keep your hands up, sweetie.”
Cora had one hand over her mouth, a frown still clearly visible. Her eyes were on the verge of tears, but none came. Instead, she wiped off her mouth and glanced at the blood on her hand. “Again.”
A nice, big bubble of pride puffed up in Wicket’s chest.
*~~~**~~~*
Wicket handed Cora her red-headed doll then moved her wooden weapons so he could sit down beside her. He tilted her head back to see the damage Maddy had done to her round face; a fat lip and a black eye. The tip of a bruise peeked out from the bottom of her sleeve too. He couldn’t imagine there weren’t more all over her body. The boy hadn’t let up a bit after that first punch, took it to her something fierce until Cora finally broke down and asked to stop.
“I did good,” Cora said, looking up at him as he gently touched her bloody lip. “For my first real fight.”
Wicket chuckled. He wouldn’t have called it a real fight but it was damn close. “You did.” He pulled her close to him, tucking her under his arm. Shade had suggested he teach Cora about not picking fights she can’t win as he’d left with Maddy. Not because the girl had put herself in the boat she’d been in that evening but so she didn’t in the future. Teaching Cora with words of wisdom was tough. She may not have liked books as much as Iris but she’d sure as the three hells gotten her smarts. Sometimes talking to her made him feel like he’d wasted his whole life doing things no one could be proud of instead of putting some knowledge in his head. “You know sweetheart…” He paused, trying to think of how to put it. He liked that Cora wanted to be able to defend herself. He didn’t want to spoil that for her. “You know sweetheart, fighting is fun-”
“The best.”
He tilted his head, smiling but trying not to look too agreeable. “Aye, I like it too. But, ya know… I only fight as a last resort.” He’d heard Iris use that word a few times. Took a couple tries before he got the meaning down but now he liked to toss it into conversation from time to time.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I only fight if I have to. Those bumps and bruises ya got there are fun the first time but they get real old, real quick.”
“Then I won’t let anyone hit me anymore. I’ll move faster and block better.”
If only it was that easy. He reckoned it was for some people, but not a commoner like Cora. Lords, even most Purists didn’t move fast enough to never get hurt. “It ain’t that easy, sweetheart. Ya have to be smart about fightin’. And if I know anything, it’s that you’re smart as a whip.”
“But I want to help you beat mommy.”
“The fight with your mum will hopefully be over before ya ever have to help.”
He could see the wheels turning in her mind. She frowned at the thought that one of her parents might be dead soon. “I hope you win.”
That felt good enough to pull her close again. “Me too.” A moment later he was on his feet, walking toward the wobbly dresser near the window. “Ya know what, I have a way ya can help with the fight right now.” When he got to the dresser he turned to her. “It’ll take your smarts though. Is that alright?” She nodded.
His knees cracked loudly as he crouched to pull open the bottom drawer. He dug beneath the clothes he never wore until he found a small red box with colorless engravings all over it. It fit nicely in the palm of his hand and was held shut by a basic-looking latch. He sat back down beside Cora who stared at the box like it was a new toy she wasn’t allowed to have yet. “I reckon this is the biggest secret in the empire. Can ya believe that? The whole empire. Maybe the world.”
Cora’s eyes lit up even brighter. “The whole world?”
“Aye. The biggest secret in the whole world, right here in the Black Boar Inn.”
“What is it?”
He curled his fingers around the box. “I can’t tell ya. Not yet.”
She blew air through her lips disappointedly. “Why would you show me but not tell me?”
That was a good question. Sharp or not, he knew better than to put the most important thing Iris had ever owned in a child’s hands but something felt right about giving Cora the responsibility. Like maybe he could get the box out from under the rain cloud that followed him around if he gave it to her. “Because I need t’leave it with ya while I’m gone.”
“You’re leaving again?!” The tears came like a dam had bursted. “No, daddy. You just got back.” She dove into his arms, sobbing something horrible, losing control of her breath like she always did when she got upset. “Please, don’t go.”
He squeezed her. “I gotta go, sweetie. Alaric needs me.” Louder sobs. Tears weren’t far from running down his own cheeks. “It won’t be long.” He tried to never lie to Cora, and maybe he hadn’t, maybe they’d make it back in a few weeks but it sure felt like a lie. The truth was there was a good chance he wouldn’t come back from Locke at all. Maybe that was the real reason he was giving the girl the box. She’d understand what to do with it someday.
“How long?” she asked. “How many nights?”
That did it, that cracked his own dam. A tear fell from his chin into her black hair. She hated nights in the inn by herself. Why wouldn’t she? He did too. The screaming and shouting of drunks. The thumping and bumping of who knows what in other rooms. The Black Boar Inn wasn’t a place for anyone to fall asleep alone. That’s why he hadn’t thrown out the red-headed doll Iris gave Cora when she was an infant. As much as he hated it, Emma was the only thing Cora had on those nights. He had told Cora he’d given her the doll though so she didn’t have any good feelings toward her momma. Not the right thing to do, he knew that, but sometimes being a parent made you do things like that for some reason.
“Two weeks,” he finally said. Guessing. Hoping. “Fourteen nights. Then I’ll be right back here with ya.” She shook her head against his chest until he pried her away from him and looked in her eyes. “Cora. Cora, look at me.” Her eyes were drowning in tears. “I have to go. One last time. Then it’s over, I promise. And I need ya to look after this secret for me until I get back. Can ya do that for me?” She nodded, still teary eyed but working on clearing them up. “Good. Now, do ya think Emma could help ya keep it safe?”
“I never take her out of the room.”
“And you never let no one touch her, right?”
“Course not.”
He pulled his dagger from his belt and handed it to Cora. She looked at it with wide eyes and respect. “Can ya cut a little seam down her back? We can hide the box inside her.”
“Really? I can use a real dagger?”
He nodded and laid Emma down on her stomach, holding her head still. Cora hesitated, realizing just how hard it was to put a blade in someone. Even if that person wasn’t real. “Don’t worry, I’ll stitch her back up. She’ll be just fine.”
She poked the tip of the blade into the doll’s back. When it slid in too deep she stopped as fast as she could and looked at him. He coaxed her on with a flick of his head. She carefully cut a decent-looking line in the fabric until sawdust spilled out around the blade. When she finished she waited for his approval but all he did was hand her the box.
“Once it’s in there, ya can’t try to get it out and ya can’t tell nobody it’s in there. Ya promise?”
“Promise.” She tucked the box into the doll and closed the seam the best she could. “Will that work?”
“I think so.” I hope so.