Music fills my ears, as I rest upon the rooftop of the old tavern, its lively, haunting tune reminding me of old times. I smile to myself as the voices below match faces in my memory and I hear the lively conversation of the evening crowd, all settling in for a nights gossip over warm ale and stale bread. My foot dangles off the edge of the roof, and my bare toes feel the first hint of summers warmth lingering in the evening breeze. Dusk has just barely dipped beyond the horizon, the sky still showing hints of purple and pink kissing the low lying clouds over cliffs.
I practically flew out of the cave when dusk came, risking the slight tan to gain ground away from that dismal hole in the wall. I wear a tattered cloak over a pale blue cotton dress. I never wore dresses before, they seemed entirely impractical to me. But this one was just my size and I liked the way it flowed, so I helped myself to it.
My lessons were endless and I awaited each night eagerly, wanting to know my full potential, eager to put myself to whatever test Sire set me to. He was, like he always was. Brutal, efficient, thorough. But....as we hunted, as he taught me, as I learned and grew in strength and skill, as I stretched my wings under his constant supervision, I saw something in him that I had never known in all the time in his service. He began to reflect my own eagerness, and once in a while, I would see my Sire actually smile. I had of course, over the years, seen him put on his polished, practiced polite society smile for the elites, and they considered him one of their own. But never had I seen my Sire enjoy himself. I began to see it in him as we trained and it brought me a strange sense of satisfaction.
I was so eager to please him. It was bewildering really. I had always been so sure of myself in his service. I knew my skills and knew how to apply them and did so without hesitation at his orders. It was of course the same way I had conducted myself with Commander Maverick, right up until the moment he was out ranked by My Lord, and in that moment, I had to reveal my true loyalties. It was bound to happen eventually. Colin died for it. I did him a favor if you ask me. He died a hero, they put up a bloody statue in his honor. He was spared the fate of growing old and useless in the eyes of everyone who had once looked up to him.
I let out a contented sigh and pull myself to sitting as a pair of men staggered out of the front door of the tavern, two floors below and I roll to lay on my stomach, watching them pass beneath me, blissfully unaware of my presence. I toy with the idea of separating them but the night is so young and I am in no hurry. My hair is loose and down around my shoulders, and finally clean. My Sire had pointed out a few days ago that I had crawled out of the grave six weeks earlier and had been sleeping in a cave since then after I had gracelessly washed myself in the blood of my first real hunt. I had gone wild with the lust of my new life and my sire had patiently allowed it, letting me revel in the drunken power of my new found abilities.
My leathers were in tatters, my hair was a matted mess and I am quite sure I looked like a nightmare if my prey's reaction to the sight of me was any indication. After a much needed bath and some basic grooming, I actually did feel better. As I bathed, I marveled at the smoothness of my skin, tracing my fingertips over scars that were no longer there. All the brutal lessons of Yuen, the training wounds from Kjyrn, the injuries from my days in the hands of the True Sons, my broken nose, my leathered back where Mother claimed her pound of flesh.....it was all...gone. In its place, smooth, alabaster silken skin...flawless, perfect. I was not certain why I deserved these gifts, but accepted them with a humility and gratitude that was impossible to explain.
The wind lifts my hair up and around my face, and in the same instant I feel my Sire stirring at the edge of my awareness. He is approaching and will be here in a few minutes. Having that sense of him lurking at the boundaries of my senses was very calming. He is so certain in his conviction, so steadfast in his purpose, so dedicated to his cause. There is never any doubt in his mind as to his place in the world and his goals for it. It is a stance I completely respected and could identify with. I once served him with such self assurance in my skills, and yet now, all I wanted was for him to be proud. I feel him closing the distance between us, and so I rise to my feet, and turn to face him. His silent arrival is greeted with my traditional, nodded bow. "Good Evening Sire" I offer him quietly.
"Barely at that" comes the monotone reply as his eyes drift over the last of the deepest purple at the edge of the horizon. "But I understand your desire to be far and away from our current accommodations" he concedes. "it is rather....primitive". His eyes roam over a young couple approaching the front door of the tavern beneath us, and I see the beast flicker faintly in his eyes. "are we to hunt tonight Sire?" I ask him, in an attempt to follow his train of thought and admittedly, my mouth watered at the idea. "No" he replies without turning to me, "tonight you will take me to the Cabal" he announces. "It is time they answer for their part in my misfortune".
He gives me no time to respond and simply moves to the back of the building and leaps from the roof, landing in the alley behind, blending effortlessly into the shadow, knowing full well I would be right behind him. "Lead the way Childe....I think they deserve a visit at home....as was paid to me". I nod again, and move out ahead of him, slipping like a wraith through the streets and up and over the useless wall that surrounds the village. I move as he taught me, using my heightened grace to slip soundlessly through the darkness, traveling the grasslands until the rising walls of the city dominates the landscape. We circle west and approach the western gate, a single guard poised to its left, and a few scattered archers roaming the wall high above. I pause, looking towards my companion, "suggestions Sire?" I muse quietly. "Use what you know" he instructs me, and then waits expectantly.
I look back towards the guard, the wall, and lower my cloak from my face and turn away from my Sire and step out of the shadows, walking up the center of the road towards the guard. The soldier sees me after a short while, approaching barefoot, cloak down and unarmed. It is when I have closed the distance enough for him to hear me effortlessly, that I offer him a soft smile. "Good evening sir" my voice is soft and lilting, and he can not seem to stop his lips from curling into a return smile. "might I trouble you for just a moment?" I ask him sweetly. "Yes miss, what can I do for you?" he seems almost bashful and I could have sworn he was going to dig the toe of his boot into the dirt and follow it with an "aww shucks". I can not help the small giggle that lifts from me as I picture it and this brings a flush of color to his cheeks.
I am barely a few feet from him, while overhead an archer passes by, looking down upon us briefly apparently unconcerned. He moves overhead as I take a moment to wrap a long silken strand of hair around my finger, allowing my dark eyes to settle upon his wide, infatuated blues ones. "I was hoping you see..." I begin, stepping a pace closer, "that I might know your name" I offer. I truly cared not about his name, all I could focus on was the artery in his neck, just below his tanned, healthy skin, pulsing rhythmically. I tear my eyes from his throat and lift them back to his pale blue eyes. He appears caught off guard by my question and stammers a reply, "it's Drunnel" and to this I nod, "You must be new" I smile, and he nods, his confusion clear. "How did you know that?" he asks, "I know a lot of the militia" comes my reply. I simply stare at him then, allowing my lessons to settle in, and I can see his eyes dilate as he returns my unblinking stare. "Drunnel...." my voice is like warm caramel, "be a dear, and close your eyes" I command. He does so, without hesitation. "excellent" I coo, "now, you keep them like that until you can no longer hear my steps, and then I want you to forget me....". He makes no reply, but his eyes remain closed as he stands rod straight at his post. I turn to the shadows and beckon to my Sire, and then pass through the gate unhindered making sure my steps were clearly audible until we were around the corner lifting my hood a moment later.
My companion slips through the gate unseen and follows me northward, the only comment offered was "you are learning". I duck into the entrance to the dump and scale the lower wall, and leap to a warehouse roof, moving north again, keeping to the rooftops until I stop and point at an alleyway that can not be seen by the main road. "that is the entrance" I inform him, but he shushes me in his next breath and points further north, where a loud scream then echoes down the hidden alleyway. In the next moment, swords clash and another cry of pain erupts from the building at the end of the alley.
"That's the Cabal's main hideout" I inform my companion, who is watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. "It appears Childe, that someone may have started the party without us" he informs me. "shall we join them?" I ask, turning my attention to half a dozen guards who have jammed open the wall that leads to the Cabal headquarters and more troops arrive, storming down the alleyway and leaping into the fray of battle. "No....let's just see how this plays out" comes the reply and so from our perch, we watched as the Militia raided the Cabal. "it's Renault" I comment idly, pointing to a particularly enthusiastic participant on the Militia side. "yes, I recognize him from the courtyard" comes a grim reply, recalling the night the Commander had come to arrest him. "I do believe he is in command of this little escapade" he informs me as we both watch the man bark orders at armed militia soldiers.
We remain still, quiet and keenly interested as we watched the Militia decimate the Cabal ranks, slaying them outright in their beds in some cases. My keen eyes follow a slippery little waif of a girl, sprint from shadow to shadow as she tried desperately to avoid detection as the militia cut through her friends. She escapes through a crack in the wall few would have been small enough to follow through, and slips away into the night. "clever girl" comments my Sire, and we allow her to keep her hard earned victory. It is over quickly and when the dust settled, the Cabal had been utterly destroyed. Not a single member remained in the building. Those who had escaped had scattered through the city, those who did not were dead or on their way to the noose.
My Sire finally stands from his crouch and leaps down into the alleyway, the entire event taking place in less than an hour. The building had been cleared, four guards were posted at the busted wall where the secret entrance used to lie, the rest were combing the city trying to pick up the stragglers that had escaped. He looks up to me and signals to remain where I was, and so, from my perch I watch him approach the Cabal headquarters and pluck a torch from the alley wall and enter the front door. He was gone only a short while before he emerged again. In his wake, a soft orange glow was beginning to fill the room. Soon, smoke began to plume out the front door and before I knew it, the entire main floor was showing signs of catching. He returns to me and sighs, "I may not have the answers I sought" he muses, "but I do have the results I wanted" he adds as a small, satisfied smile plays upon his lips. "The Cabal is a bloody memory, and the Militia were polite enough to get their hands dirty doing it and any link to me they may have found within that building is now beyond their reach".
He turns away from the growing inferno now attracting the attention of this end of the city, as alarms rise and shouts begin to fill the air and we quickly put distance between us and it. He does not look back as we race silently through the night, our steps mere whispers upon the roof tops. It is he who leads now and his path is true, and I quickly realize where we are headed. We land upon the roof of a familiar building and I look across the wide, brightly lit roadway. We were truly in the lions den as it were. Before us, the rise of the Delmarii City Stockade, directly linked to the Militia Barracks and the palace itself. While behind us, dwelt the towering presence of the imposing Goliath of white marble, known as the Temple of Vitas, a place my Sire had warned me intensely about. Beneath our feet, was the Delmarii City Courthouse. I am not left long to wonder why he would risk coming to such a hostile place when the entire city was on high alert. He casts his eyes to a balcony not far below, "now then" he murmurs thoughtfully, "about my ledger".
Friday, April 3, 2015
Monday, March 30, 2015
By His Command, Thy Will Be Done
'shhunk'. It was a distant, unidentified sound that served only to disturb me. 'shhunk'. I was content to ignore it for now. The agony that had consumed every inch of me only hours (or was it years?) before had slowly, mercifully faded away to memory, and a deeply peaceful silence had replaced it. I was so utterly grateful for that fact. It was dark. I couldn't see a damned thing, but then I was not even certain my eyes were open. I remember trying to see, but instantly my eyes felt as if they turned sand the moment I did and since it made little sense to me at the time, I was content to remain still and stop trying. It was quiet here. I liked it very much.
'shhunk'. There it was again. It seemed like an eternity ago that the sound started, but the fog in my mind refused to make sense of it and once again it flitted away from me. 'Where am I?' I wonder inwardly and yet I feel no urgency to answer the question. There was such an alluring attraction to the cool darkness that I could have laid there forever and been content to do so. But there were three little problems that were beginning to make that feel impossible.
'shhunk'. Yep, that was the first one. That noise was beginning to strain on my hard earned calm. Oddly it was beginning to annoy me that it's relentless presence was appearing to grow louder and did not appear to be stopping any time soon. 'shhunk' Yes...it was getting louder, how odd. This fact alone disturbs me enough that I feel my fingers twitch, and for the first time I since my arrival into this situation, my mind and body reconnect. 'shhunk'. Yes, it was indeed getting on my last nerve. Without that blasted noise, I might have been able to ignore my other two problems.
Without a doubt, my next problem appeared to be quickly becoming my most pressing. My stomach growled. At least, I think it did. It wasn't an actual sound, or that typical grumble feeling you get when you skip a meal. No, this was something else. It was like the annoying noise that grew louder as I lay there, except this was a feeling. It started like that little pang of hunger when you could use a quick bite to refuel, but it took very little time for that pang to morph into pain. It started in my stomach, but as the noise grew closer, 'shhunk'...and I swear I could feel the noise now, not just hear it, my belly tightened and I felt my fists clench. I could...smell something now, something....delicious. Oh how that smell enticed me.
'shhunk'. Yes, that one I definitely felt. And something new. Distant, muffled voices, and the grunt of labor rising from above me. I was confused. I wanted the noise to stop, it was infuriating me. I just wanted the quiet, but it wouldn't stop! It was making me angry, which too was odd. I rarely got angry, nothing seemed so important as to require my rage, but this incessant noise was doing the job as nothing in recent memory had been able to do in all my years in the Queen's service. I tried to logically reflect on that fact, but both the noise and my rising need for sustenance refused to allow me to concentrate.
'shhunk'. At the same moment the noise reverberated around my resting place, I felt a sharp punch of metal tear into my leg. I felt it and yet it was as if it had happened to someone else. There was a dulled, distant pain that was not nearly so urgent as the one rising in my head, the one that was consuming me. I felt it push out all other matters from my brain, one by one putting aside the silly little details that muddled my mind and left only one message echoing over and over again in its wake. FEED.
The voices that drew me finally to a sense of alertness that I had never before experienced in my entire life, were close now. "I hit sumthin" I hear clearly, and this wrings a strange, perhaps drunken giggle from another, "bout time too" followed by a snicker and then I feel two solid boots hit the ground very close by. "whatcha got?". It was the first again. I still can not see a thing, but I can smell them both now. Dirty. A disgusting mix of body odor and booze. "dunno, but lets make dis quick, don't like hangin out here at night". This wrings laughter from the other one, the one who is down close to me, "what's de matter? Ya afraid of ghosts?" he chortles, but something in his tone, the flutter of his heartbeat suggests to me, that he too is afraid to be here. It dawns on me then that I can hear his heartbeat, and the sound is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. A rhythmic, alluring crush of blood through muscle as it pumps through his veins and I find myself entranced by the music of it.
By hand, I am uncovered as the music thumps and pulses above me and I am driven to madness by its call. ~Wait~ I command myself, but the music and the need were rising together, it was difficult to do so. Finally there is a flicker of light through my eyelids "what the....she's not even in a box" he calls up, "yah, but what's she got?" is returned down the hole, "better be worth it" he adds from above, sounding as if he was losing his patience with their little adventure. I feel hands pushing dirt off of me, and then digging at my belt, and I hear a familiar jingle. "hah! Payoff!" And with that, I feel my coin pouch cut off my belt, but it was not until his next words do I respond. "hey....nice daggers" and he greedily helps himself to my blades. He looks up, showing the pair to his companion as his grin is reflected in the torch light that had been thrust in the ground at the top of the grave.
It was his partner's expression that confused him, his horrified face as he watched my hands rise out of the dirt and reach for the blades his friend was holding. "those are mine" I inform him, but I admit it might have come out more of a coughed mumble as my mouth was full of dirt at the time. The dusty words tumble out from between my teeth as he scrambles backwards, scrabbling away from me in the very close quarters. I sit up, as he retreats, his face is one of pure fear and for some reason it delights me. The music of his heart has hit a crescendo of hammering terror and it insights me to a frenzy. I leap at him, and before I know it, I have sunk my teeth into his soft flesh at the base of his neck. He screams in a panic known only to the hunted, and as he does, his blood flows over my lips and washes my tongue clean. Oh the taste, the lustful, sinful, exotic flavor of salt and iron, of life and breath all flowing down my throat.
I take my fill of him and leave him in a slump. I find my coin purse still clutched in his other hand and I leave him to it, the coins seemingly meaningless to me at the moment. I look up to the edge of the grave and of course, find myself alone. His friend has made it nearly to the edge of the graveyard, I can hear his panicked heart racing like a symphony. The man never makes it home. I kill him quickly and drain him as I nourish myself again, leaving his corpse in the tall swaying grass, letting the animals to finish off what I leave behind.
It is late, or early if you prefer as I start to see the first hint of purple at the horizon, the sign that daylight will soon be arriving. This sends a little jolt of panic through me as I realize that I am not what I was before and I had no where to go. 'What now?' I wonder to myself, and for a moment, I feel more free than I have in my entire life as I stand seemingly at a crossroads. I stare out over the darkened grasslands and listen to the life teeming within it. No one knows I am here. It is then that my third and final problem reinserts itself into my psyche. One that had been ever present in my rest, one that I could push away so long as the cool, protective darkness remained. Just as the noise had pestered me awake, there is also another persistent, inescapable splinter in my brain that, try as I might, I can not ignore.
"Return to me".
'shhunk'. There it was again. It seemed like an eternity ago that the sound started, but the fog in my mind refused to make sense of it and once again it flitted away from me. 'Where am I?' I wonder inwardly and yet I feel no urgency to answer the question. There was such an alluring attraction to the cool darkness that I could have laid there forever and been content to do so. But there were three little problems that were beginning to make that feel impossible.
'shhunk'. Yep, that was the first one. That noise was beginning to strain on my hard earned calm. Oddly it was beginning to annoy me that it's relentless presence was appearing to grow louder and did not appear to be stopping any time soon. 'shhunk' Yes...it was getting louder, how odd. This fact alone disturbs me enough that I feel my fingers twitch, and for the first time I since my arrival into this situation, my mind and body reconnect. 'shhunk'. Yes, it was indeed getting on my last nerve. Without that blasted noise, I might have been able to ignore my other two problems.
Without a doubt, my next problem appeared to be quickly becoming my most pressing. My stomach growled. At least, I think it did. It wasn't an actual sound, or that typical grumble feeling you get when you skip a meal. No, this was something else. It was like the annoying noise that grew louder as I lay there, except this was a feeling. It started like that little pang of hunger when you could use a quick bite to refuel, but it took very little time for that pang to morph into pain. It started in my stomach, but as the noise grew closer, 'shhunk'...and I swear I could feel the noise now, not just hear it, my belly tightened and I felt my fists clench. I could...smell something now, something....delicious. Oh how that smell enticed me.
'shhunk'. Yes, that one I definitely felt. And something new. Distant, muffled voices, and the grunt of labor rising from above me. I was confused. I wanted the noise to stop, it was infuriating me. I just wanted the quiet, but it wouldn't stop! It was making me angry, which too was odd. I rarely got angry, nothing seemed so important as to require my rage, but this incessant noise was doing the job as nothing in recent memory had been able to do in all my years in the Queen's service. I tried to logically reflect on that fact, but both the noise and my rising need for sustenance refused to allow me to concentrate.
'shhunk'. At the same moment the noise reverberated around my resting place, I felt a sharp punch of metal tear into my leg. I felt it and yet it was as if it had happened to someone else. There was a dulled, distant pain that was not nearly so urgent as the one rising in my head, the one that was consuming me. I felt it push out all other matters from my brain, one by one putting aside the silly little details that muddled my mind and left only one message echoing over and over again in its wake. FEED.
The voices that drew me finally to a sense of alertness that I had never before experienced in my entire life, were close now. "I hit sumthin" I hear clearly, and this wrings a strange, perhaps drunken giggle from another, "bout time too" followed by a snicker and then I feel two solid boots hit the ground very close by. "whatcha got?". It was the first again. I still can not see a thing, but I can smell them both now. Dirty. A disgusting mix of body odor and booze. "dunno, but lets make dis quick, don't like hangin out here at night". This wrings laughter from the other one, the one who is down close to me, "what's de matter? Ya afraid of ghosts?" he chortles, but something in his tone, the flutter of his heartbeat suggests to me, that he too is afraid to be here. It dawns on me then that I can hear his heartbeat, and the sound is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. A rhythmic, alluring crush of blood through muscle as it pumps through his veins and I find myself entranced by the music of it.
By hand, I am uncovered as the music thumps and pulses above me and I am driven to madness by its call. ~Wait~ I command myself, but the music and the need were rising together, it was difficult to do so. Finally there is a flicker of light through my eyelids "what the....she's not even in a box" he calls up, "yah, but what's she got?" is returned down the hole, "better be worth it" he adds from above, sounding as if he was losing his patience with their little adventure. I feel hands pushing dirt off of me, and then digging at my belt, and I hear a familiar jingle. "hah! Payoff!" And with that, I feel my coin pouch cut off my belt, but it was not until his next words do I respond. "hey....nice daggers" and he greedily helps himself to my blades. He looks up, showing the pair to his companion as his grin is reflected in the torch light that had been thrust in the ground at the top of the grave.
It was his partner's expression that confused him, his horrified face as he watched my hands rise out of the dirt and reach for the blades his friend was holding. "those are mine" I inform him, but I admit it might have come out more of a coughed mumble as my mouth was full of dirt at the time. The dusty words tumble out from between my teeth as he scrambles backwards, scrabbling away from me in the very close quarters. I sit up, as he retreats, his face is one of pure fear and for some reason it delights me. The music of his heart has hit a crescendo of hammering terror and it insights me to a frenzy. I leap at him, and before I know it, I have sunk my teeth into his soft flesh at the base of his neck. He screams in a panic known only to the hunted, and as he does, his blood flows over my lips and washes my tongue clean. Oh the taste, the lustful, sinful, exotic flavor of salt and iron, of life and breath all flowing down my throat.
I take my fill of him and leave him in a slump. I find my coin purse still clutched in his other hand and I leave him to it, the coins seemingly meaningless to me at the moment. I look up to the edge of the grave and of course, find myself alone. His friend has made it nearly to the edge of the graveyard, I can hear his panicked heart racing like a symphony. The man never makes it home. I kill him quickly and drain him as I nourish myself again, leaving his corpse in the tall swaying grass, letting the animals to finish off what I leave behind.
It is late, or early if you prefer as I start to see the first hint of purple at the horizon, the sign that daylight will soon be arriving. This sends a little jolt of panic through me as I realize that I am not what I was before and I had no where to go. 'What now?' I wonder to myself, and for a moment, I feel more free than I have in my entire life as I stand seemingly at a crossroads. I stare out over the darkened grasslands and listen to the life teeming within it. No one knows I am here. It is then that my third and final problem reinserts itself into my psyche. One that had been ever present in my rest, one that I could push away so long as the cool, protective darkness remained. Just as the noise had pestered me awake, there is also another persistent, inescapable splinter in my brain that, try as I might, I can not ignore.
"Return to me".
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Loose Ends
I am wandering around the manor like a caged panther, roaming from room to room looking for something, anything to distract me from horror of my bordem. My Lord has been couped up in his office all evening, and as per usual, did not join me for the poached fish the cook made me for dinner. Not that I expected him to. He rarely indulged in such formalities, which was odd considering his social status. Of course with his position, he would from time to time be forced to fake it for the other elites, so that he would not risk his coveted position among them. He knows the golden rule. You must play the game or lose what you hold. He was better at it than one would think, blending easily amongst them, so long as he was not expected to sway the ladies. In that...My Lord, simply lacked the neccessary skills. I suppose in that way, we were alike. I was never impressed by romance and considered time wasted upon its pursuit.
I trace my finger along a shelf upon the bookcase, finding not a speck of dust upon its surface. I am not surprised as the dull faced woman who cleans the place was puttering around underfoot most of the afternoon before she let herself out the servants door at dusk. I roam past the thick mahogany door, and I pick up the faintest sound of Lord Sendon's quill dragging over parchment, and I sigh. He knows I am out here, but clearly has nothing for me to do. It is a waste of my skills and we both know it, but for now, I have been ordered to stay put. The rebels have upped the pressure upon the Crown since my removal from the Militia and attacks are up. Even here in Vermidian they have grown bold, but my Lord insists I stay off the streets while the violence against women who dare challenge the status quo grows in its frequency.
"Your place" his voice was smooth, cool and bearing only the slightest annoyance as I broached the subject yet again with my Lord just yesterday. "...is where I say it is" he reminds me. "yes My Lord, of course" my response is automatic and earnestly spoken, "but its been over a month" my voice remains steady, but he can see my frustration in my eyes and it draws a uncommonly sympathetic expression in return. "I know you are climbing the walls" his voice grows more stern, like a parent chastising a child, and somehow I am soothed by it, "but you Nakieri, attract entirely too much attention at the moment and I need you here, ensuring my continued safety." The last part was a bold faced lie and we both know it, but it draws a smirk to my lips for his effort. "As you wish My Lord" my response is respectful and accepting as I move to depart his office, but as I do we both hear the ring of the bell, as the cord in the foyer announces the arrival of someone to the courtyard.
"It is rather late for a social call" My Lord states as he steps into the door frame and looks to the front door, his brow crinkling and something about his stance grows wary. "Allow me My Lord" simply happy for the distraction, as I approach and open the heavy barrier. I must say, I did not expect what I found on the other side, and my expression must have stated as much.
"Good evening Nakieri" Commander Maverick's voice was tired, and his expression was as unhappy as I had ever seen it. He was standing in full uniform upon the top step, his features clearly displeased. Not only was he looking rather stern, but he did not come alone, as four fully dressed soldiers had accompanied him, standing at his back in the small courtyard. "Commander?" my response was instinctual, and within a heartbeat I realized my error, but it seemed pointless to correct it. "What can I do for you Colin?" I asked my former mentor, deliberately returning with his first name. It was a risky move, the man was still a duke after all, but at the moment, I didn't really care. I tried very hard to seem disinterested in his answer, but I admit, I was blind sided by what came next.
"I am here to bring Baron Jayson Sendon into custody for questioning" the Commander announced, and he must have been expecting my stunned expression, because he immediately had more to add, looking towards my Lord, who had closed the distance between the office and the front door. He maneuvered himself in such a way as to guide me further out the door, and force Colin to back step, if decorum was to be observed. My Lord stepped fully into the door frame, and Colin retreated to the bottom stair, I took my place at his right hand, upon the top step and waited, having absolutely no idea what this was about. I looked to Lord Sendon expectantly, then back to the Commander, as it was his voice that broke the silence first, "excellent, Baron Sendon, thank you for your cooperation in this matter" Colin's tone was practiced, nobility polishing his tone and words.
My Lord's reply was equally as smooth, his expression and tone remained calm and open as he spoke, "Colin...please.." he began, ignoring the fact that the Duke far out ranked him, and addressing him casually "there must be some mistake" he insisted, a light smile playing over his lips, his dark eyes lifting to the soldiers flanking the stone gargoyle in the center of the small courtyard. My former Commander shook his head, but his words agreed regardless, "Jayson, that is very likely true" he replied, "this is just a formality. Once we have this sorted out, you can go about your business as usual". There was something in his eyes, something about the twitch in his lip as he spoke and the way he looked anywhere but at the Baron and it was at that moment, I knew the old Duke was lying. He had something on the Baron, I could see it in his eyes, and in an instant my gaze shifted to my Lord, wondering if he knew it too.
"I see" Lord Sendon replied, his tone chilled and it was clear to me, that he saw it too. Colin was a painfully honest man. It was hard for him to lie, I had seen it before, and I was seeing it now. "well, might I ask what it is I am being questioned about?" he asked, his tone was nearly bored as he speaks, his position in the doorway unchanged. "There is evidence of your involvement with a high ranking cabal member" the Commander informs him, "and I will be happy to give you all the details once we have arrived at the Council Chambers. You will be questioned by myself and the Nobles Council regarding your connection to the Criminal known as Sebastion.". There is no betraying the confusion upon my Lord's face, "who in blazes is Sebastion?" the Baron returns incredilously his gaze shifting from Colin to me, and I lean in to the baron to explain "the executed criminal last month, the one I told you about". This wrings a small nod and a flicker of recognition in my Lord's eyes, "ahh yes, the escape artist" he smiles a moment then looks to Colin, his confusion returning, "what about him? I only met the man once" he confessed, "I barely knew him" he adds, leaning upon the door frame, crossing his arms before him.
The Commander ascends a single step, bringing him closer to the Baron, and his tone deepens, and I hear his baritone voice lift in authority. "This questioning will continue in the Council Chambers" he informs us, and I can see a single brow lift upon the Barons face, and he sighs and shakes his head. "I am afraid my good Duke", a single finger lifts between them and he waves it in time with his head as he denies the Commander, "that I am going to have to decline". The Baron centers himself in the doorway, his hand still upon the knob. "I know it is terribly rude of me" my Lord continues, "but you see, I am rather busy, and have no time for this sort of nonsense" he then smiles and shifts his eyes to me. "Nakieri, be a good girl....." his expression darkens, and his tone is as commanding as it has ever been in my presence. "deal with this, in any way you must". with that, Baron Jayson Sendon, offers the Commander a shallow bow, his face bearing a sly smirk, "best of luck" he offers the old Duke before shutting the door and locking it soundly, leaving me to face my old commander and his minions alone.
"Damn it". This lifts from Colin, and he draws a heavy sigh and his head then shakes too as he looks to me. "Nakieri, step aside" he commands, and for a moment, I really think he expected me to obey him. Instead, I take the two steps to put myself in front of my Lord's door and cross my arms, "we all have our orders" I reply coolly, and I can tell Colin was caught off guard, "you can't be serious. Nakieri, you are a good soldier, ..this....this is....treason..." the last word nearly comes out as a whisper. I sigh, my arms still crossed over my stomach, "I -was- a good soldier Colin" I agree, nodding as I speak, "and yes....I suppose this does qualify as treason" I conclude, my eyes lifting past the Commander, to the four men looking incredibly uncomfortable behind him. I had been their Captain, three of them for years, one of them, I had saved his life just a few months earlier. All of them at this moment, appeared to wish to be anywhere but here. My eyes are upon them as I speak again, "you have no idea how much this pains me" I admit to them, and then I look to my former Commander, and I speak as honestly as I ever have, "I truly regret that it has come to this Colin" I tell him.
I do not give him time to reply, I give none of them any warning at all. My fingers had long since reached for daggers in my belt sheaths, and gripped a pair of them between the tips as my arms sat crossed beneath my breasts. My hands came up armed as I leapt. I lunged off of the top step, both swiping my left blade towards Colin's throat while the other plunged into the soft spot beneath his arm as he raised them to defend himself, avoiding all that ridiculous armor he so prized. My first blade dragged over his jugular while the other sunk deeply between his ribs, punching a nice sized hole in his lung. I tucked my feet up and in, releasing the dagger in his ribs and gripping the edge of his armor, and rode the man down as he fell upon his back, his shocked expression screaming out the betrayal that the blood had silenced in this throat. His armor clanged loudly as he collapsed upon the cobblestones at the foot of the gargoyle and for a brief moment I looked into his eyes as he realized in horror that I just killed him in cold blood.
Four stunned guards, stared at me, crouched upon the chest plate of the old Duke, a growing puddle of blood beginning to pool beneath him quickly as both wounds drained the man of life. It was no more than a heartbeat later that I stood straight up, right upon the man's chest plate, leaving one of my blades buried in the old man's ribs, grinning at the guards, "bet you didn't see that one coming" my tone is shrill and maniacal, "how's -that- for treason for you hmm?" I add as my hand shoots up and reaches for a curled horn upon the gargoyle looming over me. As I yank it, the cobblestones beneath the Commander opens up and we both disappear into the dark, yawning hole as the trap door beneath us swings down into a stone corridor below. There is another clatter of armor as the Commander hits the floor below, and above I hear one of the soldiers begin to bark orders, "don't just stand there you idiots!!...FIND HER!! FIND THEM BOTH!!!". I look briefly to the man lying on the shadowed corridor floor, a rectangle of torch light from above framing his body. "my apologies Colin" I whisper to the corpse, "I never meant for it to end this way" I insist quietly, "But...do say hello to Mother for me" I add before I turn from the light and race down the corridor, wondering if I had bought my Lord enough time to escape. I truly hoped so as the sound of distant splintering wood could be heard echoing down the stone hallway as the front door gave up its hinges.
I trace my finger along a shelf upon the bookcase, finding not a speck of dust upon its surface. I am not surprised as the dull faced woman who cleans the place was puttering around underfoot most of the afternoon before she let herself out the servants door at dusk. I roam past the thick mahogany door, and I pick up the faintest sound of Lord Sendon's quill dragging over parchment, and I sigh. He knows I am out here, but clearly has nothing for me to do. It is a waste of my skills and we both know it, but for now, I have been ordered to stay put. The rebels have upped the pressure upon the Crown since my removal from the Militia and attacks are up. Even here in Vermidian they have grown bold, but my Lord insists I stay off the streets while the violence against women who dare challenge the status quo grows in its frequency.
"Your place" his voice was smooth, cool and bearing only the slightest annoyance as I broached the subject yet again with my Lord just yesterday. "...is where I say it is" he reminds me. "yes My Lord, of course" my response is automatic and earnestly spoken, "but its been over a month" my voice remains steady, but he can see my frustration in my eyes and it draws a uncommonly sympathetic expression in return. "I know you are climbing the walls" his voice grows more stern, like a parent chastising a child, and somehow I am soothed by it, "but you Nakieri, attract entirely too much attention at the moment and I need you here, ensuring my continued safety." The last part was a bold faced lie and we both know it, but it draws a smirk to my lips for his effort. "As you wish My Lord" my response is respectful and accepting as I move to depart his office, but as I do we both hear the ring of the bell, as the cord in the foyer announces the arrival of someone to the courtyard.
"It is rather late for a social call" My Lord states as he steps into the door frame and looks to the front door, his brow crinkling and something about his stance grows wary. "Allow me My Lord" simply happy for the distraction, as I approach and open the heavy barrier. I must say, I did not expect what I found on the other side, and my expression must have stated as much.
"Good evening Nakieri" Commander Maverick's voice was tired, and his expression was as unhappy as I had ever seen it. He was standing in full uniform upon the top step, his features clearly displeased. Not only was he looking rather stern, but he did not come alone, as four fully dressed soldiers had accompanied him, standing at his back in the small courtyard. "Commander?" my response was instinctual, and within a heartbeat I realized my error, but it seemed pointless to correct it. "What can I do for you Colin?" I asked my former mentor, deliberately returning with his first name. It was a risky move, the man was still a duke after all, but at the moment, I didn't really care. I tried very hard to seem disinterested in his answer, but I admit, I was blind sided by what came next.
"I am here to bring Baron Jayson Sendon into custody for questioning" the Commander announced, and he must have been expecting my stunned expression, because he immediately had more to add, looking towards my Lord, who had closed the distance between the office and the front door. He maneuvered himself in such a way as to guide me further out the door, and force Colin to back step, if decorum was to be observed. My Lord stepped fully into the door frame, and Colin retreated to the bottom stair, I took my place at his right hand, upon the top step and waited, having absolutely no idea what this was about. I looked to Lord Sendon expectantly, then back to the Commander, as it was his voice that broke the silence first, "excellent, Baron Sendon, thank you for your cooperation in this matter" Colin's tone was practiced, nobility polishing his tone and words.
My Lord's reply was equally as smooth, his expression and tone remained calm and open as he spoke, "Colin...please.." he began, ignoring the fact that the Duke far out ranked him, and addressing him casually "there must be some mistake" he insisted, a light smile playing over his lips, his dark eyes lifting to the soldiers flanking the stone gargoyle in the center of the small courtyard. My former Commander shook his head, but his words agreed regardless, "Jayson, that is very likely true" he replied, "this is just a formality. Once we have this sorted out, you can go about your business as usual". There was something in his eyes, something about the twitch in his lip as he spoke and the way he looked anywhere but at the Baron and it was at that moment, I knew the old Duke was lying. He had something on the Baron, I could see it in his eyes, and in an instant my gaze shifted to my Lord, wondering if he knew it too.
"I see" Lord Sendon replied, his tone chilled and it was clear to me, that he saw it too. Colin was a painfully honest man. It was hard for him to lie, I had seen it before, and I was seeing it now. "well, might I ask what it is I am being questioned about?" he asked, his tone was nearly bored as he speaks, his position in the doorway unchanged. "There is evidence of your involvement with a high ranking cabal member" the Commander informs him, "and I will be happy to give you all the details once we have arrived at the Council Chambers. You will be questioned by myself and the Nobles Council regarding your connection to the Criminal known as Sebastion.". There is no betraying the confusion upon my Lord's face, "who in blazes is Sebastion?" the Baron returns incredilously his gaze shifting from Colin to me, and I lean in to the baron to explain "the executed criminal last month, the one I told you about". This wrings a small nod and a flicker of recognition in my Lord's eyes, "ahh yes, the escape artist" he smiles a moment then looks to Colin, his confusion returning, "what about him? I only met the man once" he confessed, "I barely knew him" he adds, leaning upon the door frame, crossing his arms before him.
The Commander ascends a single step, bringing him closer to the Baron, and his tone deepens, and I hear his baritone voice lift in authority. "This questioning will continue in the Council Chambers" he informs us, and I can see a single brow lift upon the Barons face, and he sighs and shakes his head. "I am afraid my good Duke", a single finger lifts between them and he waves it in time with his head as he denies the Commander, "that I am going to have to decline". The Baron centers himself in the doorway, his hand still upon the knob. "I know it is terribly rude of me" my Lord continues, "but you see, I am rather busy, and have no time for this sort of nonsense" he then smiles and shifts his eyes to me. "Nakieri, be a good girl....." his expression darkens, and his tone is as commanding as it has ever been in my presence. "deal with this, in any way you must". with that, Baron Jayson Sendon, offers the Commander a shallow bow, his face bearing a sly smirk, "best of luck" he offers the old Duke before shutting the door and locking it soundly, leaving me to face my old commander and his minions alone.
"Damn it". This lifts from Colin, and he draws a heavy sigh and his head then shakes too as he looks to me. "Nakieri, step aside" he commands, and for a moment, I really think he expected me to obey him. Instead, I take the two steps to put myself in front of my Lord's door and cross my arms, "we all have our orders" I reply coolly, and I can tell Colin was caught off guard, "you can't be serious. Nakieri, you are a good soldier, ..this....this is....treason..." the last word nearly comes out as a whisper. I sigh, my arms still crossed over my stomach, "I -was- a good soldier Colin" I agree, nodding as I speak, "and yes....I suppose this does qualify as treason" I conclude, my eyes lifting past the Commander, to the four men looking incredibly uncomfortable behind him. I had been their Captain, three of them for years, one of them, I had saved his life just a few months earlier. All of them at this moment, appeared to wish to be anywhere but here. My eyes are upon them as I speak again, "you have no idea how much this pains me" I admit to them, and then I look to my former Commander, and I speak as honestly as I ever have, "I truly regret that it has come to this Colin" I tell him.
I do not give him time to reply, I give none of them any warning at all. My fingers had long since reached for daggers in my belt sheaths, and gripped a pair of them between the tips as my arms sat crossed beneath my breasts. My hands came up armed as I leapt. I lunged off of the top step, both swiping my left blade towards Colin's throat while the other plunged into the soft spot beneath his arm as he raised them to defend himself, avoiding all that ridiculous armor he so prized. My first blade dragged over his jugular while the other sunk deeply between his ribs, punching a nice sized hole in his lung. I tucked my feet up and in, releasing the dagger in his ribs and gripping the edge of his armor, and rode the man down as he fell upon his back, his shocked expression screaming out the betrayal that the blood had silenced in this throat. His armor clanged loudly as he collapsed upon the cobblestones at the foot of the gargoyle and for a brief moment I looked into his eyes as he realized in horror that I just killed him in cold blood.
Four stunned guards, stared at me, crouched upon the chest plate of the old Duke, a growing puddle of blood beginning to pool beneath him quickly as both wounds drained the man of life. It was no more than a heartbeat later that I stood straight up, right upon the man's chest plate, leaving one of my blades buried in the old man's ribs, grinning at the guards, "bet you didn't see that one coming" my tone is shrill and maniacal, "how's -that- for treason for you hmm?" I add as my hand shoots up and reaches for a curled horn upon the gargoyle looming over me. As I yank it, the cobblestones beneath the Commander opens up and we both disappear into the dark, yawning hole as the trap door beneath us swings down into a stone corridor below. There is another clatter of armor as the Commander hits the floor below, and above I hear one of the soldiers begin to bark orders, "don't just stand there you idiots!!...FIND HER!! FIND THEM BOTH!!!". I look briefly to the man lying on the shadowed corridor floor, a rectangle of torch light from above framing his body. "my apologies Colin" I whisper to the corpse, "I never meant for it to end this way" I insist quietly, "But...do say hello to Mother for me" I add before I turn from the light and race down the corridor, wondering if I had bought my Lord enough time to escape. I truly hoped so as the sound of distant splintering wood could be heard echoing down the stone hallway as the front door gave up its hinges.
Friday, January 27, 2012
The End of an Era
Upon the back of my little black mare, I ride though the thick forest, the road cutting a swath though its heart, as I make my way towards the Fortress. Gods I wish this man would get an office in the barracks! The ride takes me nearly two hours and for the last few miles I am racing the light as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. As I near the looming old fortress I can see the remains of a recent goblin attack littering the base of the walls. There is a moldy stench in the air around the place as I am passed through the gates, and I am suddenly a little more grateful for the civility of Delmarii.
I make my way through the Fortress and stand before the Commander's door, and for a moment it enters my mind to wonder why I was summoned. I rap loudly upon the wooden surface and I hear his baritone voice bidding me to enter. I know the moment I step into the room, and he settles that stern gaze upon me, he is in one of his moods and something is not sitting quite in his world and I feel myself stiffen and steel myself against whatever it is coming.
"The criminal known as Sebastion has been tried and found guilty of treason against the crown" he announces grimly. I react to this as I am fully expected to, and I nod, "not entirely surprising Commander" I reply, then fall silent, expecting more information. He would not bid me all the way out for that. I am not left long to wonder why, as his voice lifts again, "Captain Dhan'Loria, something of great concern has been brought to my attention" he reveals, "it seems the criminal Zalon, was given a full pardon, all charges dropped, and released from his cell..." he lifts his eyes from the parchment before him and settles them on me, "..by me" he concludes.
I stand there a moment as I try to adjust to the fact, I have just been busted for forgery, and finally all I can offer the man is a sigh. Immediately this seems to infuriate him and he rises to his feet and demands of me, "Damn it Nakieri...why!?!" the disappointment and anger in his voice causes me to inwardly flinch, but I give him nothing but my steely exterior and then give the man the honest truth. "I made a deal with Sebastion....I said, if he stayed put, stayed in the cell, Zalon would walk free". This wrings a heavy sigh from the man I respected, and I feel the pang of regret for the expression he settles upon me. His next words catch me by surprise, and stun me to silence.
"Sebastion was executed at dawn this morning" he informs me, and there carries with his words, a sense of finality in his voice. "He was hung in the courtyard at my order and buried near a distant relative in the graveyard". He regards me quietly as I stand there in silence, processing this information and something in me nods, and yet I feel a small smile curl my lip, "you found his family?" I ask, there is soft desperation in my tone, and it appears for a moment to disarm the edge about him, "yes, a relative, a cousin I believe, he has been put to rest near his own". This does bring me comfort and I suppose it shows on my face, because it is then that the Commander decides to drop the rest of his news upon me.
"Captain Nakieri Dhan'Loria, you are hereby relieved of duty in the Delmarii City Militia. You are here by stripped of your rank of Captain and dismissed from the Queen's service". He looks at me as if his own words have caused him physical pain, and he glowers at me, "dammit Nakieri, you should have known better" he growls. "I have permitted Zalon's papers to go through, as a favor to you so you do NOT end up sitting in one of your own damned cells. Before you leave here, give me your keys and your pauldron and turn in any militia issue you have, I simply can no longer trust you." The last of his words sink into me and I feel it again, that sense of disappointment in him and I lift my eyes and meet his, lifting my chin. "I would do it again Commander" I tell him bluntly, and this causes him to nod. "yes" he replies, his chin still dipping as he speaks, "that is why you are fired".
My ride back is unhurried, and done in the dark so I am in no rush as my sure footed mount carries me back to the city. Sebastion is dead. He hung for his crimes. This is what he wanted. I have to keep reminding myself of that. He made this deal, he came to me, and convinced me he wanted this. I still can not understand why he did it. He did not have to stay in that cell, he had made it out many times before. He felt no fear in what he faced, no sense of regret, and the last time we spoke, he was in a jovial mood. He had skills that I could just not wrap my head around, and constantly pushed the boundaries of everyone he met.
I felt the world a smaller place suddenly, and would miss the challenge he offered. He warned me though, when he died, stop being in the Militia. Well, it looks as if Sebastion gets his wish. I pull my mare to a halt pausing at the turn in the road, looking south towards the unseen city, then instead nudging my mount northwards, "come on Sylky, we don't live there anymore" I say aloud and I turn my back on Delmarii Bastion and head home.
I make my way through the Fortress and stand before the Commander's door, and for a moment it enters my mind to wonder why I was summoned. I rap loudly upon the wooden surface and I hear his baritone voice bidding me to enter. I know the moment I step into the room, and he settles that stern gaze upon me, he is in one of his moods and something is not sitting quite in his world and I feel myself stiffen and steel myself against whatever it is coming.
"The criminal known as Sebastion has been tried and found guilty of treason against the crown" he announces grimly. I react to this as I am fully expected to, and I nod, "not entirely surprising Commander" I reply, then fall silent, expecting more information. He would not bid me all the way out for that. I am not left long to wonder why, as his voice lifts again, "Captain Dhan'Loria, something of great concern has been brought to my attention" he reveals, "it seems the criminal Zalon, was given a full pardon, all charges dropped, and released from his cell..." he lifts his eyes from the parchment before him and settles them on me, "..by me" he concludes.
I stand there a moment as I try to adjust to the fact, I have just been busted for forgery, and finally all I can offer the man is a sigh. Immediately this seems to infuriate him and he rises to his feet and demands of me, "Damn it Nakieri...why!?!" the disappointment and anger in his voice causes me to inwardly flinch, but I give him nothing but my steely exterior and then give the man the honest truth. "I made a deal with Sebastion....I said, if he stayed put, stayed in the cell, Zalon would walk free". This wrings a heavy sigh from the man I respected, and I feel the pang of regret for the expression he settles upon me. His next words catch me by surprise, and stun me to silence.
"Sebastion was executed at dawn this morning" he informs me, and there carries with his words, a sense of finality in his voice. "He was hung in the courtyard at my order and buried near a distant relative in the graveyard". He regards me quietly as I stand there in silence, processing this information and something in me nods, and yet I feel a small smile curl my lip, "you found his family?" I ask, there is soft desperation in my tone, and it appears for a moment to disarm the edge about him, "yes, a relative, a cousin I believe, he has been put to rest near his own". This does bring me comfort and I suppose it shows on my face, because it is then that the Commander decides to drop the rest of his news upon me.
"Captain Nakieri Dhan'Loria, you are hereby relieved of duty in the Delmarii City Militia. You are here by stripped of your rank of Captain and dismissed from the Queen's service". He looks at me as if his own words have caused him physical pain, and he glowers at me, "dammit Nakieri, you should have known better" he growls. "I have permitted Zalon's papers to go through, as a favor to you so you do NOT end up sitting in one of your own damned cells. Before you leave here, give me your keys and your pauldron and turn in any militia issue you have, I simply can no longer trust you." The last of his words sink into me and I feel it again, that sense of disappointment in him and I lift my eyes and meet his, lifting my chin. "I would do it again Commander" I tell him bluntly, and this causes him to nod. "yes" he replies, his chin still dipping as he speaks, "that is why you are fired".
My ride back is unhurried, and done in the dark so I am in no rush as my sure footed mount carries me back to the city. Sebastion is dead. He hung for his crimes. This is what he wanted. I have to keep reminding myself of that. He made this deal, he came to me, and convinced me he wanted this. I still can not understand why he did it. He did not have to stay in that cell, he had made it out many times before. He felt no fear in what he faced, no sense of regret, and the last time we spoke, he was in a jovial mood. He had skills that I could just not wrap my head around, and constantly pushed the boundaries of everyone he met.
I felt the world a smaller place suddenly, and would miss the challenge he offered. He warned me though, when he died, stop being in the Militia. Well, it looks as if Sebastion gets his wish. I pull my mare to a halt pausing at the turn in the road, looking south towards the unseen city, then instead nudging my mount northwards, "come on Sylky, we don't live there anymore" I say aloud and I turn my back on Delmarii Bastion and head home.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
How to Catch a Thief
I find that as I muddle through my days, that this job never fails to keep me interested. The harsh glares I get from those obviously displeased with my continued occupation of the Captain's position in the City Militia, continue to ricochet off my stony exterior. I think that is what annoys them the most. The fact that I'm -still- here and I -still- do not give a rats ass about what any of them think no matter what the material of their cloak is made of.
However, just because they hate me and want me removed, that does not mean we do not have to keep up appearances, on both ends of the social scale. They are required to accept me, and treat me accordingly with the respect deemed my rank, and I am required to pretend to hang on their every word and smile politely as they deliver their inane complaints and demands with a nasal whine. I am not saying they are all guilty of this offensive sound, just the majority of them.
As it is, I am entangled in an rather fascinating game of cat and mouse at the moment, due to one of their complaints. However, I can see the man's point, he was fleeced by a professional, and in public too. I cannot begrudge the man his anger. So now I am back on the hunt for someone who can not be caught and held by ordinary means. It was fine to delegate his arrest to others when he was just a petty criminal, but he upped the ante when he started targeting nobles in public.
To be honest, I enjoy the game, this battle of wits between myself and my quarry. Most people think he is simple minded. I know he is not. They think he is crazy. That part at least, is highly possible. They think he is stupid, but I know a con artist when I see one, and that man has had them all snowed. That in part is how I think he has managed to get away with as much as he has so far, he has them convinced he is some sort of simpleton who needs their sympathy. I think if I hear one more story about how they had tried to help him only to have it turn out miserably for them, I think I might just laugh right in their face.
Something has changed recently however and the search for him has taken on a new urgency. I have been put to the task to bring him in and put him to trial. Certainly the source of the task came from the most unexpected of places, but that does not mean I can avoid my responsibility in this. So I will do what I always do. I will follow my orders to the letter, and I will do my job to the best of my ability.
I was told to take it slow, play it out a while, but that is not my style. Instead I jumped in feet first and began to snoop around his local haunts. It took little time at all to find the one I would use to lure him. Seems my prey has a new, dumber friend. I'm not exactly sure what the point to this man's existence is in my quarry's small world, but he will work nicely in this. He has already got himself in hot water, and it was entirely too easy to get him to walk voluntarily into my cells, and now that I have him, it is only a matter of time before I have my prey as well.
I know this is not justice, I know the charges are trumped up, and I know this man does not deserve to hang, but I made a vow and that is not something I break lightly. All that remains, is to make sure he knows that his friend is cooling his heels in my jail and is going to go down swinging, so to speak. I know him, he will come, and when he does, I will finish this once and for all, just like I promised.
However, just because they hate me and want me removed, that does not mean we do not have to keep up appearances, on both ends of the social scale. They are required to accept me, and treat me accordingly with the respect deemed my rank, and I am required to pretend to hang on their every word and smile politely as they deliver their inane complaints and demands with a nasal whine. I am not saying they are all guilty of this offensive sound, just the majority of them.
As it is, I am entangled in an rather fascinating game of cat and mouse at the moment, due to one of their complaints. However, I can see the man's point, he was fleeced by a professional, and in public too. I cannot begrudge the man his anger. So now I am back on the hunt for someone who can not be caught and held by ordinary means. It was fine to delegate his arrest to others when he was just a petty criminal, but he upped the ante when he started targeting nobles in public.
To be honest, I enjoy the game, this battle of wits between myself and my quarry. Most people think he is simple minded. I know he is not. They think he is crazy. That part at least, is highly possible. They think he is stupid, but I know a con artist when I see one, and that man has had them all snowed. That in part is how I think he has managed to get away with as much as he has so far, he has them convinced he is some sort of simpleton who needs their sympathy. I think if I hear one more story about how they had tried to help him only to have it turn out miserably for them, I think I might just laugh right in their face.
Something has changed recently however and the search for him has taken on a new urgency. I have been put to the task to bring him in and put him to trial. Certainly the source of the task came from the most unexpected of places, but that does not mean I can avoid my responsibility in this. So I will do what I always do. I will follow my orders to the letter, and I will do my job to the best of my ability.
I was told to take it slow, play it out a while, but that is not my style. Instead I jumped in feet first and began to snoop around his local haunts. It took little time at all to find the one I would use to lure him. Seems my prey has a new, dumber friend. I'm not exactly sure what the point to this man's existence is in my quarry's small world, but he will work nicely in this. He has already got himself in hot water, and it was entirely too easy to get him to walk voluntarily into my cells, and now that I have him, it is only a matter of time before I have my prey as well.
I know this is not justice, I know the charges are trumped up, and I know this man does not deserve to hang, but I made a vow and that is not something I break lightly. All that remains, is to make sure he knows that his friend is cooling his heels in my jail and is going to go down swinging, so to speak. I know him, he will come, and when he does, I will finish this once and for all, just like I promised.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Quiet Reflection
I sit cross legged upon the cold stone floor, wearing brand spanking new leather pants, and a tailored, well made, and utterly comfortable black shirt. They are mine now, and it was sort of a cleansing process for me, to watch everything that was mine, burned and turned to ash, the smoke carrying with it some sort of redemption. Something that attempts to put an end the event that has my mind is such turmoil.
Before me, the surface of the cool black stone calls to me, and I place the palm of my hand upon it as I close my eyes and begin. "Think back" the voice is in my head, its my own, but does not truly sound like me. It is a masculine, calming voice that snakes through my mind, and digs into the shadowed places, "poison the mind, infiltrate their thoughts". My lips move as these words dance over my mind, but no sound is emitted.
A list of questions stand at the ready in my head, and for a moment I resist the process. "I am sick of questions!" I cry out silently against the black backdrop of my brain, the world around me fallen away, the cool stone beneath me no longer felt, now that I have been delivered into the private world of my mind. "Sick of questions! I don't know!!" I insist to the echoing voice, rising around me and drowning out my disobedient anger. The thing is, I do know, I do and I am too angry, too hurt, too wild to focus on the answers and I feel myself raging at the black mist that surrounds me.
"Why did they come at you like they did?" the first question rises in my mind in spite of my best attempts at blatant rebellion. "Why the Soldier second, why the Noble third?" the questions continue no matter how much I resist them. "Why did they attack at the time they chose? Why did they choose where they did to attack?" Finally I sigh, and allow the questions to push out the instinctual rage, the natural disobedience, the urge to rail against them and slice and cut and hurt and kill and force them all to pay. Finally, I let those spinning balls of chaotic memories to be slowed, contained and shelved for reflection later, so I might concentrate upon the questions.
They came at me like they did, because....because.....think woman think! It was the end of my shift, nearly dawn. The streets were practically deserted. It was dark and there was almost no one around to interfere. They shot me first. Not so difficult to calculate, I was the greatest threat in the area. Why the Rookie second? She was simply the next logical target. Her being there was not likely accounted for. More likely...they expected to catch me alone. The guard, the one posted by the corner. He attacked the group that had ambushed us, and then just as quickly, quite unexpectedly, he fled! I remember it, he fled and called the man 'my Liege!'...yes, I do remember it... 'Spare me my Liege'. The words were directed to the one that shot us, first me, then the Rookie and then the Baron, in that order. At least one of the Militia, already in his control. We have already been infiltrated.
I was the target. Why? That one was easy. I am the highest ranking female officer in the Militia. Close to the Commander, the highest ranking female, with access to almost everything he does. They thought I would crack, they presumed because I -am- female, I am automatically weak. They thought, I would bend and cry, and beg and plead, they presumed I would break and they would get usable information out of me before they made an example out of me for the rest of the women in the city. I would be set out there for all to see, to terrorize those who still seek to be free of the repression placed upon them. After I broke, after they had gleamed all the information they could from me, they would display me as a message to the rest. Unfortunately for them, they presumed far too much.
So, why my own home? Why take me there? Certainly it was a calculated risk, that no one would come look for clues in my house, and their gamble paid off in that respect. But no, there is something more to it. Something else, I am missing. But what? The fog roles around my mind, black, cold, cleansing and I take a deep breath far away and redouble my efforts to find the path through. Not...just..my home. Something else...what...else...???
Then it hits me. Why not my house? Where else? They could not use my neighbours house, it might actually be one of theirs! Or someone close to an enemy, or a friend! That's it! I DO know these men. I do! They are our street sweepers, and our bankers. They bake our bread and keep our horses. They tailor our clothing and deliver our milk to our doors. They protect us while we sleep, and fill our plates with food. They are just common men doing common jobs and every single one of them knows about me. They know about the Rookie, they already know where that girl lives. They already know who their next target is. They are already watching the Women who control too much, who take too many liberties against them. They have already chosen the next one to be made example of. They are simply waiting for the right time to set their plans in motion.
My eyes open and without fail I begin to put my thoughts to parchment, the materials to do so had been left here for me before I even arrived. The quill scratches over the page, flowing and continuous until I had it all down so it made sense. I retrieve the parchments upon the stone and rise, turning and moving down the corridor, my bare feet cold upon the damp floor. The heavy steel door opens before me and a tall, blank faced male looks at me. "prepare my things, and ready my horse, I will be leaving shortly" I announce, and to my surprise, he does as I bid him without question and I head to the familiar heavy wooden door, my thoughts in hand. He likely will not be the least bit surprised when I tell him I am going back.
Before me, the surface of the cool black stone calls to me, and I place the palm of my hand upon it as I close my eyes and begin. "Think back" the voice is in my head, its my own, but does not truly sound like me. It is a masculine, calming voice that snakes through my mind, and digs into the shadowed places, "poison the mind, infiltrate their thoughts". My lips move as these words dance over my mind, but no sound is emitted.
A list of questions stand at the ready in my head, and for a moment I resist the process. "I am sick of questions!" I cry out silently against the black backdrop of my brain, the world around me fallen away, the cool stone beneath me no longer felt, now that I have been delivered into the private world of my mind. "Sick of questions! I don't know!!" I insist to the echoing voice, rising around me and drowning out my disobedient anger. The thing is, I do know, I do and I am too angry, too hurt, too wild to focus on the answers and I feel myself raging at the black mist that surrounds me.
"Why did they come at you like they did?" the first question rises in my mind in spite of my best attempts at blatant rebellion. "Why the Soldier second, why the Noble third?" the questions continue no matter how much I resist them. "Why did they attack at the time they chose? Why did they choose where they did to attack?" Finally I sigh, and allow the questions to push out the instinctual rage, the natural disobedience, the urge to rail against them and slice and cut and hurt and kill and force them all to pay. Finally, I let those spinning balls of chaotic memories to be slowed, contained and shelved for reflection later, so I might concentrate upon the questions.
They came at me like they did, because....because.....think woman think! It was the end of my shift, nearly dawn. The streets were practically deserted. It was dark and there was almost no one around to interfere. They shot me first. Not so difficult to calculate, I was the greatest threat in the area. Why the Rookie second? She was simply the next logical target. Her being there was not likely accounted for. More likely...they expected to catch me alone. The guard, the one posted by the corner. He attacked the group that had ambushed us, and then just as quickly, quite unexpectedly, he fled! I remember it, he fled and called the man 'my Liege!'...yes, I do remember it... 'Spare me my Liege'. The words were directed to the one that shot us, first me, then the Rookie and then the Baron, in that order. At least one of the Militia, already in his control. We have already been infiltrated.
I was the target. Why? That one was easy. I am the highest ranking female officer in the Militia. Close to the Commander, the highest ranking female, with access to almost everything he does. They thought I would crack, they presumed because I -am- female, I am automatically weak. They thought, I would bend and cry, and beg and plead, they presumed I would break and they would get usable information out of me before they made an example out of me for the rest of the women in the city. I would be set out there for all to see, to terrorize those who still seek to be free of the repression placed upon them. After I broke, after they had gleamed all the information they could from me, they would display me as a message to the rest. Unfortunately for them, they presumed far too much.
So, why my own home? Why take me there? Certainly it was a calculated risk, that no one would come look for clues in my house, and their gamble paid off in that respect. But no, there is something more to it. Something else, I am missing. But what? The fog roles around my mind, black, cold, cleansing and I take a deep breath far away and redouble my efforts to find the path through. Not...just..my home. Something else...what...else...???
Then it hits me. Why not my house? Where else? They could not use my neighbours house, it might actually be one of theirs! Or someone close to an enemy, or a friend! That's it! I DO know these men. I do! They are our street sweepers, and our bankers. They bake our bread and keep our horses. They tailor our clothing and deliver our milk to our doors. They protect us while we sleep, and fill our plates with food. They are just common men doing common jobs and every single one of them knows about me. They know about the Rookie, they already know where that girl lives. They already know who their next target is. They are already watching the Women who control too much, who take too many liberties against them. They have already chosen the next one to be made example of. They are simply waiting for the right time to set their plans in motion.
My eyes open and without fail I begin to put my thoughts to parchment, the materials to do so had been left here for me before I even arrived. The quill scratches over the page, flowing and continuous until I had it all down so it made sense. I retrieve the parchments upon the stone and rise, turning and moving down the corridor, my bare feet cold upon the damp floor. The heavy steel door opens before me and a tall, blank faced male looks at me. "prepare my things, and ready my horse, I will be leaving shortly" I announce, and to my surprise, he does as I bid him without question and I head to the familiar heavy wooden door, my thoughts in hand. He likely will not be the least bit surprised when I tell him I am going back.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Hostile Environments
I pace the stone room I have been locked in for the last few days. The woman who tends to me is just as sick of my face as I am of hers, but we both know neither of us can leave and so we try not to offend each other. Still, she is not the one keeping me here, its that damned Templar outside the door. Twice I have managed to get up, and past the bloodhound healer as she snoozed in her chair, only to find myself barred by a large, intense looking, red armor wearing, wall of inflexibility, and soon I am back in my cot bitching under my breath. I went from one prison to another.
Pain has become a familiar companion of late, one that motivates me, prods at me, a handy tool the body provides that reminds me to keep breathing. It plagues me still but I simply do not give a damn. I have to get out of here! The Rookie has been sitting here like a mother hen since my rescue and she is almost as annoying as the dusty old healer. She at least has paperwork to do, I am left with the entertainment of staring at the walls.
The Commander came in yesterday and officially relieved me of duty. I was calm when he told me, I understood perfectly. There was likely to be a full debriefing soon, and once again I would be put to questions. They are going to want to know, what I said. They will want to know everything I do about who it was that took me in the first place. The first part is easy, I didn't tell them shit. The second, part, is a bit trickier.
The fact they took me to my own home, just a few blocks away from where they nabbed me, was a stroke of genius. The fact that I was rescued by the Rookie and the most unlikely of allies is utterly baffling. I have to admit, the Rookie is impressing me, and apparently the Commander as well, because she was made temporary Captain in my absence, over a few men with seniority. I hope the kid realizes how that might affect her, and that its not just the Rebels she needs to watch for, but our own men. Sure, most of the men that serve under me, do so willingly, but I know there is one or two in there, that I would just as soon not turn my back on.
Finally, I was released from the infirmary! The old battleaxe after enough pestering from the Rookie, saw the wisdom of my departure and called off the Templars. I was out of that place like a shot, in each hand, my trusted blades, the Rookie managed not to lose them, and for that I was grateful. I was barefoot and moving down the center of the street, not caring a lick for the stares I got, people parting before me their mouths agape. I must look like death warmed over. My face is still a kaleidoscope of purple and black, the beginnings of faded yellow around the edges of my bruises, the cuts upon my brow and lip, red and angry. I had no pride to worry for, none at all, I was simply too pissed off to give a rats ass about what any one of them thought about me.
I make my destination without incident, and without hesitating, I land a solid kick to my own front door and splinter the wood around the latch, sending it slamming to the wall behind. Stepping into the room, I look around and assess the damage. My house, was a write off. Rebels had come and gone from this room for days, using it as a temporary holding cell and hideout. I could see evidence of their presence everywhere and the longer I looked, the angrier I became.
Finally my feet move, and I go to my bedroom door and stand in the open frame, staring at the empty chair at the foot of my bed. I spent nearly five days in that chair give or take the time I spent silently begging to be back in it again, and the old hunk of junk looks as if it was finished. It lies upon its side, broken, blood staining the old wood. The carpet too, all around shows blood stains, heavily pooled in a few places, somehow those make me smirk, and I revel in the memories of how they got there. "He had it coming." manages to find its way past my teeth and somehow my own voice jars me from my thoughts.
I move quickly, now wishing to be anywhere but here, and I cross to the chest in the corner, sighing with relief when I find my armor intact. I quickly dress, leaving nothing behind but my Captain's pauldron, tucked away safely in the chest, and I lock it again. My sheaths at my belt, feel the familiar presence of my daggers and I turn, pausing again at the door, looking back at the little house that had for years offered me quiet sanctuary, and I stare at the disarray the place, and I can not bear to think of staying another moment. I close the door, lock it, and tuck away the key and lift my hood, cloaking my face and disappearing to the west, moving up into the slums. It's another less than friendly place to lurk, but hell, now that I am relieved of duty, I am free of all sorts of restrictions aren't I? So this, is where I will begin.
Pain has become a familiar companion of late, one that motivates me, prods at me, a handy tool the body provides that reminds me to keep breathing. It plagues me still but I simply do not give a damn. I have to get out of here! The Rookie has been sitting here like a mother hen since my rescue and she is almost as annoying as the dusty old healer. She at least has paperwork to do, I am left with the entertainment of staring at the walls.
The Commander came in yesterday and officially relieved me of duty. I was calm when he told me, I understood perfectly. There was likely to be a full debriefing soon, and once again I would be put to questions. They are going to want to know, what I said. They will want to know everything I do about who it was that took me in the first place. The first part is easy, I didn't tell them shit. The second, part, is a bit trickier.
The fact they took me to my own home, just a few blocks away from where they nabbed me, was a stroke of genius. The fact that I was rescued by the Rookie and the most unlikely of allies is utterly baffling. I have to admit, the Rookie is impressing me, and apparently the Commander as well, because she was made temporary Captain in my absence, over a few men with seniority. I hope the kid realizes how that might affect her, and that its not just the Rebels she needs to watch for, but our own men. Sure, most of the men that serve under me, do so willingly, but I know there is one or two in there, that I would just as soon not turn my back on.
Finally, I was released from the infirmary! The old battleaxe after enough pestering from the Rookie, saw the wisdom of my departure and called off the Templars. I was out of that place like a shot, in each hand, my trusted blades, the Rookie managed not to lose them, and for that I was grateful. I was barefoot and moving down the center of the street, not caring a lick for the stares I got, people parting before me their mouths agape. I must look like death warmed over. My face is still a kaleidoscope of purple and black, the beginnings of faded yellow around the edges of my bruises, the cuts upon my brow and lip, red and angry. I had no pride to worry for, none at all, I was simply too pissed off to give a rats ass about what any one of them thought about me.
I make my destination without incident, and without hesitating, I land a solid kick to my own front door and splinter the wood around the latch, sending it slamming to the wall behind. Stepping into the room, I look around and assess the damage. My house, was a write off. Rebels had come and gone from this room for days, using it as a temporary holding cell and hideout. I could see evidence of their presence everywhere and the longer I looked, the angrier I became.
Finally my feet move, and I go to my bedroom door and stand in the open frame, staring at the empty chair at the foot of my bed. I spent nearly five days in that chair give or take the time I spent silently begging to be back in it again, and the old hunk of junk looks as if it was finished. It lies upon its side, broken, blood staining the old wood. The carpet too, all around shows blood stains, heavily pooled in a few places, somehow those make me smirk, and I revel in the memories of how they got there. "He had it coming." manages to find its way past my teeth and somehow my own voice jars me from my thoughts.
I move quickly, now wishing to be anywhere but here, and I cross to the chest in the corner, sighing with relief when I find my armor intact. I quickly dress, leaving nothing behind but my Captain's pauldron, tucked away safely in the chest, and I lock it again. My sheaths at my belt, feel the familiar presence of my daggers and I turn, pausing again at the door, looking back at the little house that had for years offered me quiet sanctuary, and I stare at the disarray the place, and I can not bear to think of staying another moment. I close the door, lock it, and tuck away the key and lift my hood, cloaking my face and disappearing to the west, moving up into the slums. It's another less than friendly place to lurk, but hell, now that I am relieved of duty, I am free of all sorts of restrictions aren't I? So this, is where I will begin.
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