Chapter 19

Farewell Father

Mercy sat slumped in an expensive, uncomfortable chair and watched her father pack away his things. She allowed her bloodshot eyes to wander over the rooms Zanzo had given him. They were identical to her own but in far greater condition than hers after last night's visitors.

Everything was as clean and untouched as the day they had arrived, pristine bed, spotless floor and untouched wine cabinet. Ugh, the wine cabinet, she grimaced feeling her head pound and her gorge rise. She looked away and her eyes rested on the bath, even worse, she thought. She could still taste bile in her mouth from all the puking she’d done through the night and not all of it had been drink related.

She’d never had to kill men before and had been sickened by how easy it had been for her. She’d replayed what had happened over and over in her head but still couldn’t come to terms with it. Her head pounded and she thought of it again.

***

The Wedding Night - Mercy

Mercy giggled to herself as she ran through the castle, her head swimming pleasantly from all the wine. She kept thinking of the look on Zanzo’s face after she’d kissed him at the feast.

He was the one all the women were after tonight, even Lady Elaina had been unable to take her eyes off him. But it was she who would be getting him tonight.

With that triumphant thought in mind she reached her room. The aroma of rose water and incense met her nose as she entered and she saw that her bath had been filled, the servants had done this for her last night as well as per her request, having spent so much of her life on the road she was now taking advantage of every opportunity to be clean. Plus she’d never had a bath as luxurious as this.

But first why not another glass of wine? She grabbed a glass and poured herself a generous measure from the decanter in her cabinet and left it out on top of the cabinet for easy access.

She drank that glass and bathed, she poured another. Time passed.

Where is he? She wondered as she redressed. She was just putting her wooden sandals back on to go back out and look for him when a knock came at the door. Finally!

She rushed over to it, her sandals clicking on the tiles as she went. She threw open the door “you’re finally here!” She exclaimed, with a wide smile on her face that quickly soured to a confused frown.

Two heavy set men stood in the doorway. Both wearing mercenary leathers and cudgels hanging that at their hips.

One looked to be in his middling years, he was portly and balding and as such had a patchy head of auburn tufts. The other was a muscular younger man with jet-black shoulder length hair. They smiled at her confusion.

“Expecting someone else little love?” The older one sneered as he shouldered his way past Mercy into her rooms.

“What in five flames do you think you’re doing?!” She yelled. The younger thug pushed her out of the doorway and into her room, closing the door behind him as he entered.

She backed away from them both, putting her back to the wall. She reached instinctively for her daggers but she hadn’t strapped them back on after her bath. It galled her now that she’d worn them for the whole wedding and feast but had left herself short in her own quarters. She stared over to the bath where they lay by its side, but the patchy haired bastard was between her and them.

The older man laughed, “don’t you worry none about what I think I’m doing. You should be thinking about yourself right about now.”

He unslung a pack onto a chair by the wine cabinet and pulled out some rope. “Now sit yourself in this chair and we’ll get you tied up nice and proper.”

She looked to the other man who was blocking the door, his hand resting on the handle of his cudgel.

“Don’t worry about me either darling, I’m just watching the door.”

“What the fuck do you two want?!” She raged, feeling her panic rise. They both were unperturbed by her tone.

“Well we want you of course,” the fatter one said.

“Someone’s willing to pay a lot for pointy eared fucks like you. Now stop gabbing and get over here, this’ll go a lot easier if you don’t resist.”

Mercy looked around, the daggers were out of reach, her bow and arrows were in the next chamber by her bed. Out of options she nodded and slowly walked to him.

“That’s a good girl, no reason we can’t be civilized bout this now is there.” Mercy’s eyes alighted on the crystal decanter which still sat atop the cabinet, he followed her gaze and his eyes widened, “Oi now d—“

Mercy lunged past him ducking a blow from his cudgel, she grabbed the decanter and smashed it into his face, he cried out as it connected and would have staggered back but Mercy caught a fistful of his shirt with her other hand. The decanter hadn’t smashed as she had hoped it would but it had certainly dazed him; she hit him once, twice, three times more before it actually did break, shards of crystal shredding into his ugly face. All this happened in a matter of seconds, patch head howled and swung his cudgel feably at her, she pushed him away and dived over to the bath where her daggers lay.

She landed just short of them and reached out for one before feeling a heavy boot dig into her side. She cried out and rolled away before she could suffer another blow. She looked up and saw that it was the younger man. Well what did you think? He’d politely wait his turn? Her fathers voice admonished. The older thug was still howling, clutching at his bloodied face and staggering around.

“That’s enough bitch! We tried to be nice about this and this is how you act?!” He kicked her daggers away. “Now, for what you’ve just done we’re gonna have to give you a beating, might lower your price but this is about principal!” He spat at her with his cudgel raised. She quickly put the bath between them, what now, what now? Her mind raced.

Then there was a knock at her door, finally! Zanzo?! father?! She thought not caring which as long as she had an ally.

“Help!!” She screamed at the door, the patch haired man turned to face it wiping away blood from his eyes. The door opened and two boys, Eli and Jax stepped inside. They stared in shock at the scene before them “Are you ok?” Ventured Eli.

“What do you fucking think?!” She yelled back at him. “Ugh..we’ll have to kill these two now,” patch head said, annoyed, taking a step towards them. The boys pulled out their training swords and black hair laughed. “Ah they’ve got toothpicks, watch out.”

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Mercy seized the chance of this distraction and ran for her room in the next chamber. There was crashing behind her as they began fighting the boys. Her eyes darted around her room momentarily forgetting where her bow was then she saw it resting by the huge ornamental wardrobe with her quiver next to it. She snatched them up and rushed back into the main room.

This time she would not forget her teachings.

Back in the room she saw the boys were still fighting but we’re taking a beating. Eli had blood running down his temple and one of Jax’s eyes was closed and swollen.

she nocked an arrow and drew from within her a deep breath of aether and blew it out across the etched scapes scribed into the arrowhead and its shaft, the scapes glowed a cold blue as the aether activated them.

Black hair kicked Eli in the chest and sent him crashing across a table.

She drew the arrow back, the whole thing glowing now.

Patchhead grabbed Jax and slammed his bloody head into Jax's forehead sending the boy reeling to the ground.

The two thugs turned to her, triumph plainly wrought across their smirking faces. Mercy smirked back at them; she had already taken a careful step to her left to line them up.

Black hair was upfront, patch head right behind him. Black hair’s eyes went wide as he took in the fact she had an arrow trained on him, he dropped his cudgel and raised his arms in a warding gesture.

Mercy released the arrow, there was high keening noise as it ripped its way through the air, it first connected with black hairs raised forearm ripping its way through and severing it. The arrow carried on through his chest, blasting a hole as thick as her wrist through him, still it carried on and buried itself deep in the chest of patch head, the aether having fully spent itself smashing through the first man. Black hair crumpled to the floor, blood gushing from his maimed arm and ruined chest. Patch head grabbed at the arrow stuck in his chest ineffectively, he coughed blood and stumbled sideways, falling into the bath, the dirty bath water turned crimson in seconds. The whole ordeal had been over in a matter of minutes. Mercy dropped to her knees feeling drained from the impromptu use of aether. But made herself carry on.

***

The present

From there she’d seen to the boys and got them back on their feet. They’d shouted for guards and had soon found other bloody skirmishes everywhere, guts and bodies littered the long corridors and blood decorated the walls.

She’d never seen men and women butchering each other before and wasn’t keen to repeat the experience any time soon. Her father on the other hand didn’t seem to be phased in the least by any of what had transpired and had by all accounts doled out casual slaughter like he’d undertaken to rid the castle gardens of weeds.

It troubled her that the men who had attacked her had been working entirely independent of the skeletal southerners, but her splitting headache was enough cause for concern for the moment so she would dwell on that later.

She watched her father as he rolled up his sleeping mat instead. “Did you sleep on the floor?” She asked with little interest for the answer. He looked up from his task and met her eye, “slept on the ground for a long time, these days a bed is too much comfort. Being honest, the floor was too level for me to get comfortable.Also, I thought you would have wanted the bed.”

Like there’d been any chance of her getting sleep after that.

He turned back to his beaten leather and canvas pack, tightening the straps and fastening the buckles.

“So you’re really going south with Zanzo then?” She asked, feeling a minute pang of rage bubble in her head that made the pounding there worse.

Greeves sighed and buckled up one more strap, he stood and faced her.

“You know I am, you were there when he volunteered me..” he answered. She looked right into his amber eyes, there was a hardness to them she’d never noticed before.

“Why?!” She demanded.

“More gold to be made from the fool” he faltered, his eyes darting away from hers.

He was hiding something and she didn’t like it, he’d never avoided any of her questions before except on one other subject, she decided she’d ask that as well since she was now thinking about it. She moved closer to him.

“What happened to my real parents?” She blurted out. His eyes flicked back to hers, annoyed, enraged.

“Why are you asking me this now?” He replied icely, gritting his sharp teeth. Mercy put her hands on her hips and stared back at him, meeting his rage and annoyance with her own. “You’ve never told me anything about them. It’s always been, ‘I don’t know’ but I don’t think that’s true.” He looked at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but her and walked across the room to stare into his great mirror.

He stood there for a long moment studying his reflection, his eyes sad.

“I just don’t know.. I found you in the wreckage of a cottage bundled up in blankets. A squalling, helpless baby, hungry and cold.... I made you my daughter, I gave you a name and I’ve protected you since.”

His eyes were faraway now and forlorn.

She felt guilty for asking, just because she was angry about Zanzo. He turned back to her slowly and gave her a strange look then moved to his pack. He opened a side pouch and pulled a small slab from it then presented it to her. It was a box as big as her foot, wrapped in black cloth, fastened neatly with white string.

“What’s this?” She asked hesitantly as she took it from him. “I was going to give you this later, but since you asked about your parents..” her heart began to beat faster and harder, her hands shook as she pulled the string to loosen it. The string fell away and she unwrapped the cloth. It was.. it was a wooden block? The object was smooth and wrought with intricate symbols and patterns. Painted in places with burgundy and others in jade. Was it even wood? She knocked on it inquisitively, it felt cold and dense like marble. “What..what is this?” She asked, baffled.

“It was with you when I found you. Amongst your blankets. I don’t know what it is, the symbols mean nothing to me” she looked up from the block to him, he looked uneasy and was still having trouble meeting her eye. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Thank you da.”

“It’s fine, should have given it to you sooner.. anyway, let’s get going before the Torren woman decides we were involved in all of this” he grabbed his pack and swung it over one shoulder, and they made their way out.

They walked through the busy hallways of the keep. Guards moved in small squads with purpose, some gave her father dark looks as they passed but nothing more, the ones that had seen him fight last night acknowledged him with nods of respect. Her father treated them all to bland indifference either way.

Servants scrubbed and mopped the tiled floors where large pools of blood had congealed or where the bodies of the victims had been dragged out leaving a gruesome snail trail in their wake. Mercy struggled not to vomit again at the sight if not the smell.

Her father came to her rescue by distracting her. “If you’re heading north Mercy, I’d leave soon, this town will be pandemonium soon.”

They turned a corner and saw up ahead three furious guards were kicking a fourth guard who lay on the floor curled up in a ball screaming.

“You drunk shit!” One of them yelled “falling asleep on duty?!” Bellowed another one as he ploughed his boot into the unfortunate man's groin, he wheezed and groaned piteously from the abuse. Mercy flinched and grimaced in empathy, but followed her father and carried on walking, leaving the disturbing scene behind them “pandemonium?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

He grunted “well things move fast these days”. Mercy smiled, things felt like they were back to normal between them, despite the grisly environment and the bitter argument of yesterday. “I’ll head out soon, no doubt there’ll be work with some of the nobles returning to their homes,” they exited the keep and made their way along the collonaded walkway towards the stables.

“That’s a good plan” he patted her on the shoulder warmly. She was getting a lump in her throat and a scared, excited feeling.

“I’m sorry for what I said before—“ her father waved a dismissive hand at her. “It’s fine.. maybe I needed to hear it. I’m sorry as well for my part, I’ve treated you like a child long enough, you’re a grown woman now, and old enough to make your own choices.”

Mercy practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly, her nose full of that familiar burnt leather smell he had. He hugged her back just as tight for a long moment then released her. She took a step back wiping a tear away. She caught him doing the same but pretending to shield his eyes from the sun. They carried on and approached the stable, a boy came out to greet them and her father barked a few orders at him, the boy winced in fear and before long they were mounted up on their horses and ready to leave. Mercy looked over at her father “Good luck in the south Da, I hope you find whatever you’re looking for there”

“I told you I’m going for the gold!” He snapped back.

“Yea right, you gave me half of what we made off Zanzo and all the fur, I know you’ve got plenty of money. Enough that you don’t need to go into a desert with someone you hate.”

He gave her a sad little smile. “I do have other reasons but they’re nothing to trouble yourself with. Now go on, go look for a caravan or convoy heading north.” He said with a finality to his words. Then there really wasn’t much else to do but part ways, she felt like she was cutting off a part of herself as she began to walk away. She turned one last time, “thanks for everything Da… I love you!” She choked out the last as she moved her horse off at a trot from the person she had spent her whole life with until now.

“