by R C Gray
Renna turned her eyes towards the two men as the red-haired woman stepped around the side of the table and kicked the coins on the floor, scattering them under the nearby tables and drawing the attention of several of the people seated nearby. “No. As far as I’m concerned, you can take those coins there and shove ‘em right up your ass.”
“Looks like we got us a feisty one,” the man with the mustache said, stepping up beside his friend.
The smirking man stepped up closer to the woman, his face nearly touching hers. “Looks that way, don’t it? And we know just what to do with feis-”
The red-haired woman slammed her forehead into the man’s nose, breaking it with a loud snap. The man stumbled backwards, tripping over his friend as blood poured from his nose. The mustached man stepped forward, his fists balled and ready to fight. Behind him, two more men from the back table stood and stomped towards their downed friend, prepared to jump into the brawl if one broke out.
Renna stood and pushed the table over on its side, creating a barrier as she reached for the dagger in her boot.
The red-haired woman looked over at Renna and winked, putting her hand on her arm before she could unsheathe her weapon. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
Stepping forward, the red-haired woman held her hands out to her side, palms facing the men. Blue-green flames erupted on the tips of her fingers and spread up her arms. “The first one to step up is gonna be the first one to get burned. You ever see what happens to a sausage that gets cooked too long over a fire? Because you’re about to see it firsthand.” The woman looked at the four men in front of her, their eyes wide and glaring. “What about it mustache, you want a go with me? I didn’t think so. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be walking the lady home. And thanks for taking care of our tab.”
The woman started backing towards the door, glancing over at Renna as she moved back. “You ready to go?”
Renna gave the men one last look before she turned her back to them and strolled out the door, holding it open for the woman behind her.
“Thanks for the exciting evening, gentlemen. And if any of you decide to follow us, I’ll torch the prick off your body so fast you’ll have to squat the next time you need to take a piss. Now I suggest you clean up this mess and sit back down. Understand?”
The men nodded as they looked around the room, not saying a word. The red-haired woman nodded in return as she backed out the door, letting it slam closed as she stepped out into the black night.
A Reason for all Things
Braig leaned his back against the cold stone wall as he looked up and down the dark alley. The orange glow of the flickering lanterns lining the city street cast dancing shadows on the walls around him, setting him on edge. Most of the shops had closed for the night, and aside from a few stragglers stumbling out of the pubs, the lane was nearly empty. But being alone in an alley with gear that could be sold for a good bit of coin made him a target for any thief or cutthroat looking for a mark, and he had noticed more than one suspicious look in his direction as he sat outside the inn. He had no idea what dangers might be lurking in the quiet darkness that loomed around him.
It had already been several hours since he had sent the stable boy to find Ferhani, and he wondered if she would bother to show up or had even gotten the message. What reason did she have to help him now? After all, their business was almost done. All he had to do was show up in the morning, find out when and where to board the ship, and be on his way to the Grey Wastes to find the stone; although he didn’t know what good it might be to him. But if it was important enough for the brothers to keep him caged and torture him to try to find it, he’d rather have it be in his hands than in theirs. But leave it up to the drunk elf and the goblin to get into trouble on their first night in town. And where in the hell was Renna when you needed her? At least she could have kept an eye on things.
“Or maybe if ya had stayed down there with ‘em this wouldn’t have happened,” Braig mumbled, giving his beard a slight tug. Glancing down at the supplies thrown into a pile beside him, Braig kicked at Faine’s bag of clothes, cursing under his breath. “And what am I supposed to do with all this junk?”
“Why don’t you just leave it there, old man. I’ll take it off your hands.”
Grabbing his sword and shield, Braig looked down the alley and squinted his eyes, trying to see where the voice came from. “It’s not yours to take. And if ya think you can shake me, you should think again.”
“We’re giving you a choice, dwarf. We could have easily killed you where you sat,” a low voice said from behind him.
Turning his back to the wall and pulling his shield closer, Braig crouched and looked at the cloaked figures approaching from each end of the alley. “You could have tried. Now, why don’t you turn and head back where you came from before you get into something you can’t handle.”
Pulling back her hood, a tall, broad woman stepped forward, eyeing Braig as she cracked her knuckles. Her blonde hair was short and disheveled, and her face was covered with small scars and smudges of dirt and oil. Undoing the clasp on her cloak, she wrapped the thick material around her left arm, keeping a tight grip on the remaining fabric that hung loosely from her hand. Unsheathing a dagger from her belt, she looked over at her companion and motioned for him to advance and flank the dwarf.
Removing his cloak, the man wrapped it over his arm and pulled a small, curved dagger as he crept forward, keeping his eyes on Braig. His footsteps were quiet, and his clothes were dark and loose, blending smoothly into the darkness around him. If it weren’t for the glow of the lanterns on his blade and the buckles on his vest, he would have looked like nothing more than another shadow. “You hear that rattling coming down the street? That’s the sound of our wagon comin’ for us...and to carry your corpse away to the docks if you don’t step aside.”
Braig gripped his sword and stepped closer to the pile of gear, putting his foot behind Faine’s bag of clothing, a low growl rising from his throat. “I’m giving ya one last chance to walk away from this. There doesn’t have to be any bloodshed tonight. I have enough on my mind. I don’t want to have to worry about drawing any more attention when I’m riding down the road in your wagon with bits of the two of you all over me and my sword.”
The man looked over at his companion, a brief look of doubt crossing his face.
“Enough talking,” the woman said, inching closer to Braig. “If you won’t give us what we came for, then we’ve no choice but to take it.”
Kicking his foot forward, Braig launched Faine’s bag of clothing towards the woman, throwing her off balance as she held her arms up to stop the bag from hitting her in the face. As the woman stumbled backwards, Braig pushed himself off the wall and charged at the woman, smashing into her stomach with his shield, knocking her hard onto her back. Taking advantage of the situation, Braig raised his sword above his head, ready to strike the woman’s neck when he felt something heavy slap into his arm and tangle around his sword, nearly pulling the weapon from his hand.
Turning quickly, Braig shook his sword, freeing it from the cloak as the man circled around, blocking his path to the woman. The man swung his cloak again, trying to catch Braig off guard as he lunged forward. Stepping backwards out of the reach of the dagger, the heavy material smacked into the shield, getting hung on its pointed edges. As the man pulled hard on his cloak trying to rip it away, the woman slashed at Braig, nearly striking him several times with her thrusts.
Holding tightly onto his shield, Braig thrust his sword upward, stabbing through the cloak, cutting a long slash in the fabric as he stepped backwards, pulling himself free. The daggers thrust and slashed as Braig moved and parried, being pushed closer to the street. Behind him, he could hear the rumble of the wagon as it rolled down the lane, stopping at the head of the alleyway behind him. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he saw two large men jump from the wagon, each with large clubs in their hands.
“By the stone! Where’s th
at damned woman when you need her?” Braig said, pushing forward, swinging his sword wildly and catching the cloak-wielding man hard in the arm, severing his hand with the blow.
The man screamed in pain and wrapped the fabric of his cloak over the muscle and bits of bone protruding from his arm, trying to stop the flow of blood pooling out onto the ground below him. Trembling, he stepped back, moving deeper into the shadows as he stared at his severed hand lying on the ground near Braig’s feet.
“The damned woman is right here!” Ferhani said, sauntering up behind him, her two companions running past her towards the dagger-wielding attackers, clubs raised.
Wounded and seeing that they were outnumbered, the two thieves retreated farther down the alley, leaving the man’s hand behind in a puddle of dark red. “This isn’t over. There are more of us on the way right now. They’ll be here any second.”
Ferhani laughed as she stepped past Braig. “Will they, now? I wouldn’t be so sure about that. We passed them back on the road where they tried to rob us. You like the cart?”
The man and the woman glanced at each other before turning and running down the alley, the man leaving a trail of blood as he went.
“Gilly, Lutnar, follow them and finish the job,” Ferhani said, waving down the alley. “Make it quick.”
The two men nodded and ran off down the alley, following the trail of blood into the darkness.
Braig leaned over onto his shield, trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t think you’d come. I sent the boy after you hours ago.”
“I know. But I wanted more information before I came traipsing down here with no answers.”
Standing up straight, Braig sheathed his sword and rested his arm on his shield. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Ferhani. “Well, out with it. What’d ya find out?”
“Your friends have been arrested for murder.”
“I could’ve told you that. Did you hear where they’re at, or why they got into trouble in the first place? They wouldn’t just start a fight for nothing. They knew we had plans to leave soon.”
Ferhani shook her head. “I don’t know everything, but it looks like there’s a warrant out for all of you. Something about an issue with someone with some power back in Banrielle.”
Braig scowled and clenched his fists. “It’s those damn Brothers of the Flame. I didn’t think there were any left that could have seen us—or any that were left alive that could have made it anywhere to tell anyone.”
Ferhani raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like you can handle yourself pretty well in a fight. And from what I’ve seen here, it’s no wonder you made it out of Banrielle alive. But I feel like it’s more than just the Brothers. I’ve seen their temples in a few towns, but it’s someone else. Someone with a bit more sway. I don’t know who yet, but your bounty is fairly high and being paid out by someone with the initials D.E.”
Braig rubbed his beard and looked over at the pile of gear near the wall. “Well, I’m hoping it’s not something you want to collect on. But if there’s a bounty, why didn’t the barkeep turn me in? He had plenty of reason after what happened there.”
Ferhani laughed and looked over at the wagon. “The barkeep has secrets of his own. Too much attention might get people talking, which might lead the guards to the casks of illegal spirits I sold him that are hidden in his basement. Better to just get you out than risk himself. And you don’t have to worry about me. I have no interest in collecting on it. I’ve been in similar situations a time or two and had to find a way out. It’s not easy, but there’s always a way.”
“And what about the elf and the goblin? Where are they being kept? I can’t just leave here and forget about them.”
Looking down the alley, Ferhani waved and gestured towards the wagon. “Everything finished, Gilly?”
Gilly and Lutnar walked up beside Ferhani, their brown, sleeveless tunics covered in small spatters of blood. “It’s all taken care of.”
“Perfect. Now let’s get this loaded and get out of here.”
“Wait,” Braig said as he stepped towards the pile of gear. “I asked a question, and I need an answer.”
Ferhani sighed as she held up her hand to Gilly and Lutnar. “Your friends are fine for now, but they only have a couple days before a ship comes for them. Unfortunately, they’re being held in Stonekeep—or as people around here call it, The Fist. And before you ask, it has high stone walls and only a few doors, making it a bit tricky to get into. But now’s not the time or place to talk about it. Let’s load the gear and get out of here before it gets light.”
Braig looked over at Ferhani as Gilly and Lutnar loaded the cart. He wasn’t sure if he could trust her, but at this point, he had no choice. If he stayed out on the streets, he could be killed, or picked up by the guards and thrown into a cell alongside Faine. “I know you’ve done more than enough already, and I don’t know how to repay you, but there’s one more thing in my room, and I can’t get back in to get it.”
“And what’s that?”
Braig pulled at his beard and looked around the alley. “I have the pouch of coins from our business earlier. It’s under the mattress. Upper level, last room on the left.”
Sighing, Ferhani ran her hands through her hair and walked past the cart and onto the street. Braig rubbed his eyes and began loading the wagon, tossing his sword and shield into the back when heard footsteps thumping against the cobbled street behind him.
“Braig? What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Renna said, running up to stop at the wagon, the red-haired woman following close behind her.
Braig held up his hands and looked up at Renna. “There’s a problem we need to deal with.”
“What kind of problem? Where’s Faine and Skara?” Renna said, breathing heavily as she ran around the cart towards the street looking for the other two. “Where are they, Braig?”
“Now hold on. They’ve been arrested for murder. There’s a bounty on our heads, and they got into some trouble. They’re at Stonekeep for now. And someone’s bound to be coming when they get word they have ‘em.”
Renna put her head into her hands and leaned against the wagon. “That’s it, I have to go. We have to go there now. We can’t leave them there.”
The red-haired woman stepped up to the edge of the wagon and looked over at Renna. “It’s a fortress. If you tried to barge in, you’d barely make it ten feet before you were filled with swords or arrows. I’m sure there’s a way in, but it won’t do any good if you die trying.”
Braig looked over at the woman before looking back at Renna. “And who the hell are you? Renna, you know this woman?”
The red-haired woman looked down at Braig and put her thumbs under her belt, letting her arms relax. “The name’s Aenwyn. I was just walking the lady home from the pub. You can never be too careful out here...and I’m only trying to help.”
Braig stared up at Renna as she vaguely nodded and looked over at Aenwyn.
“You’re right. But leaving them there isn’t an option. They wouldn’t think twice about coming in for us,” Renna said, looking over at Braig. “You know what it’s like to be in a cage. We have to do something. We can’t just leave them there to rot.”
“And you won’t,” Ferhani said, handing Braig his pouch of coins. “Here’s your coins back, less one for my troubles. Now, everyone on the wagon. We can discuss this in a safer place. I have a proposition for you that can work out for all of us.”
THE NIGHT AIR WAS COLD and calm as Skara stared out the barred window in his cell. The two moons hung bright in the sky, one large, one small, blotting out the nearest stars with their light. Thinking about what led him here in the first place, he wondered if leaving Banrielle was the right decision. If he hadn’t gone to the cave or into town, the inn wouldn’t have been burned, and Mary would still be alive. But then again, so would Gregor. Maybe if he had gone back home and waited after killing the brothers, he may have been able to go back to the way things were—or at least something simila
r. But those weren’t the choices he had made, and now he was stuck here with no idea what was going to happen come morning.
Rubbing his hand over his tunic, he loosely traced a symbol on his chest as he mumbled to himself. “You’re supposed to help me find my way and keep me from getting lost. Some good you’ve been.”
“Talking to yourself over there?” Faine said, not moving or opening his eyes. “I hope it’s a good conversation.”
Skara leaned his head against the stone wall and looked over at Faine. “Do you ever think about what got you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“The choices that got you here. Don’t you ever wonder what would’ve happened if you stayed in Murwood?”
“I think about it from time to time. But I think this is where I’m supposed to be,” Faine said as he sat up, leaned his back against the wall, and looked around the barren cell. “Well, maybe not here exactly. But you get the idea.”
Skara turned his head and looked back out the window. “I just wonder if things would have been different if I had stayed at home instead of going out that morning.”
“Of course, things would be different. I most likely wouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for you, I would have died in that cave and been shat out by a spider.”
“And if it weren’t for me, Mary would still be alive.”
Faine rubbed his hand on his knee and looked over at Skara. “That’s not on you. You can’t blame yourself for what happened. The brothers abused their authority and used it to manipulate and torment others. I don’t have to tell you about that, though. You lived it.”
“I know, but-”
“But those things happened, and you can’t change it. But you did change what could happen in the future. How many more lives could you have saved by killing Gregor? How many other families had he broken before your paths crossed again? I’m not a big believer in all that fate bullshit, but every now and then, for whatever reason, I think we’re in the right place at the right time.”