"Gods," Roanan answered with a full mouth of food, causing crumbs to spill out. "It's a traveling storyteller tonight," he said to Flora, pointing his sloppy spoon towards one of the back walls.
Flora could barely see the man's bright yellow cloak as he stood against a back wall his voice belting out the words of a story from the beginning of the war. She had always liked this particular story, and if her brothers had not been around she would have listened to the hearsay. As the story of the fabled Folk race to the East and their heroic Lord from the time of the first king's wars travelled through her mind. It was as if she could see Lord Canein of the Dragons himself in front of her.
"Hmm Gods yes," Dawson said still shaking his head while yawning, his voice cutting into Flora's thoughts. "Do you think the King would mind if his guards start to think they are better than him?"
"Will you shut up?" Lorcel said across the table, fingering a bread roll.
Dawson looked at Lorcel without a word before turning back to Roanan. "Touchy about Flora's capture ain't he? He hasn't let me tell a good joke about last night yet. Who does he think he is?" he said flatly to Roanan, pausing on every word.
Roanan laughed as he watched the bread roll Lorcel had held smash into Dawson's face. Dawson joined in on the laughter as Lorcel dug glumly into another bread roll on the table. Flora struggled to stifle her own laughter and focused on the table in front of her.
Thren glared at them.
"How bad Flora?" He asked, his burly voice cutting through the sound around them.
"I'm fine," Flora said again, crossing her arms over her chest. "I smell worse than I look,"
He grunted and looked at Lorcel. Dawson was meanwhile staring at Flora wide eyed and nodding, his hand moving up to pinch his nose, his mouth forming the words 'pickled onion' in silence. Flora stuck her tongue out at him, which she regretted as it split open her lip again.
"I'm going to have to kick you boys if you don't start believing me," she said to Thren.
"Good luck with that little Flora," Thren said back, bringing a mug of ale to his lips. "I am the one that bandaged you up, so I know of at least half of your current problems,"
"Is a punch in the face the kind of thanks we get for saving your skin?" Interrupted Dawson with a grin.
Flora glared at Dawson, who only grinned back before sticking his tongue out at her and blowing a raspberry. Flora bit down the smile that fought to emerge, losing quickly, before turning back to Thren.
"Thank you Thren. And I know I messed up last night, trust me I learned my lesson, pick your Nobles carefully," Flora joked. Dawson and Roanan were the only ones who laughed while Flora continued. "I'm sorry I dragged you into it, but I'm fine. I've had worse, you know I have," Flora said. "Let's just forget about this one. I'm fine,"
Thren looked at her with bland eyes. She was about to open her mouth to say more when Harriet stomped over to their table, a tray full of bowls of mush and extra bread rolls in her hands. The mush tasted different most nights, it consisted of whatever Harriet scrounged up and fried to a crisp. Last night it was a greasy, white paper-like fish of some sort, and it looked like it was going to be the same tonight. They would eat it, but Flora hoped one of them found money to spare tonight so they could buy some real food with flavor at the market.
"Work tonight, do this one right," Harriet said, flicking the back of Flora's head with the tray balanced against her hip.
Flora bit her lip as she scowled. Satisfied, Harriet set the tray on the table and stomped away, her small frame disappearing from Flora's sight into the crowded room.
Resting among the bowls and bread rolls was a letter. Flora wished she could grab that letter and all the letters they had ever had and toss them into the fire blazing on the one side of the room, but this was their purpose. Thieves for hire, with nowhere else to go and Harriet who kept it that way through starvation, blackmail, and any other means necessary. Perry scowled and grabbed the letter first.
Mission Impossible
"We just had a hire last night," Lorcel said as Thren watched Harriet storm away through the crowds. She flashed smiles at the only people she cared about, wealthy paying customers or the drug addicts that always returned. Flora had always thought those cracked smiles must hurt business more than they helped.
"What is Harriet thinking that we go out again tonight?" said Thren to no one in particular.
Flora could barely hear what he was saying over the roar of the tavern without leaning in. She was really reading his thin lips as he talked to himself. She glanced down at the table for only a moment, she was so dehydrated that she was finding it hard to swallow, she was glad to see one jug of mulled cider on the table and grabbed up a cup. As she put it to her lips she gagged from the excessive amount of sweetness that she found there.
"Do you really think she cares an ounce if something happens to us?" Continued Lorcel,"She only pays enough attention to us to make sure we are still here."
"And not drugged up on her goods," said Dawson as he deflated.
Lorcel gave Dawson a deadpan look before continuing. "Do you really think she would care if we are too tired to deal with what's out there? The only reason she was so furious this morning is we almost got caught. She doesn't care if we are dead—she would just replace us," Responded Lorcel, glaring at his bread roll in front of him, ripping it into bits, popping one in four chunks into his mouth and wasting the rest. "The only reason she let us walk out that door to go get Flora last night is cause we told her Flora was still alive, and Harriet uses her to get closer to the female targets that we can't reach," Lorcel said.
"Though not for the lack of trying," said Dawson as Roanan snickered.
Lorcel glared at them. "We didn't even know if Flora was alive. We guessed," he finished with a toss of his bread roll at Dawson's head as he slumped over the table and popped the last piece of the roll into his mouth.
"Keep your voice down Lorcel," Thren said watching as Perry wrung the letter between his hands before he grabbed a knife off the table to slice along the seal. "I know its loud in here, but Harriet has her ears around." Thren continued.
That made all of them go silent while Dawson rolled his eyes and Perry rolled his shoulders. Harriet had tried to get her residents to spy on each other, but the bond between them had grown so close she had given up. They knew Harriet watched them still. They had tried to disappear once before, had planned it out in the tavern, and someone had heard and reported them. Each of them had been punished for it, so much so that conversation of doing it again had never come up. The scares from that day still apparent along the side of Thren's face.
Perry's fingers slowly unfolded the letter below the table, reading it, his eyes tracking faster and faster down the page. He was motionless as he read before he looked up at Thren. Thren was staring at him with the most attention of anyone at the table, before passing the letter to him. Thren's eyes widened at the letter, absorbing every inch of information penned there.
"What is it this time?" Flora asked, tapping the table with her fingers.
Thren stared at the letter, and Perry stared at Thren. Thren passed the letter to Lorcel and looked over at Flora, scanning for injuries once again.
"You are sitting this one out Flora," Thren said, looking her directly in the eye.
Lorcel cursed loudly, causing the neighboring table to look over. Thren smacked him across the back of the head, reaching over to tear the letter from Lorcel's hand to give to Roanan as Lorcel rubbed his new bruise. Dawson leaned in to read it as well.
"You are going to find something terribly squishy in your bed Thren if you don't pass me that letter," Flora said, her shoulders tense as she tried to lighten the boy's moods. Not one of them cracked a smile. The boys were looking at each other with hawklike eyes as they sat there in silence.
"Or maybe in all of your beds. Extra squishy," Flora said again, wondering if she needed to rip the letter out of the boys hands, but she kept her grip firmly on the wood table
below her as a convulsion shook the room again causing a quiet to flow through the room, and the table under her fingers nearly creaked as she dug into it, slivers entering her fingers. The pain throbbing with her heartbeat as she waited to find out was written on that letter. The sound in the room picked up quickly as the ground resettled.
Dawson looked between Thren and Flora, with a shrug of his shoulders to Thren. Thren jerked his chin in a rough nod, which gave Flora goosebumps up her arm, as Roanan's large hand passed Flora the small letter and she took it with slow fingers that trembled.
It read:
Lady Miranda Dells
Dead
The letters always had their target and their purpose. It was the dead part which changed things up from the consistency she had known her entire life.
Flora looked up at her brothers as she shredded the paper into bits, dropping the pieces onto the floor. Everyone had seen it, there was no point in carrying it about, now. It was evidence on them if they were caught with it, but Flora's hands felt like they had a mind of their own as they went through the motions.
"We can't do it," Flora said, her voice cracking as she struggled to get moisture back in her mouth. She could hear the tales being told past her shoulder, but she felt deaf.
"That hag is going to take us from thieves to murderers whether we want to be or not," Lorcel said in agreement while the others sat in shock.
The boys were each looking in a different direction. Dawson's eyes followed someone in the crowds and Thren's followed Harriet. Lorcel's eyes were on her, while Perry's fingers were laced and he stared at his palms. Roanan's eyes were glazed at the ceiling, his spoon in his mouth, and Flora gazed passed between each of them. She dropped her gaze, feeling the weight of what they would be doing. A shiver crawled up Flora's spine as she saw the torn scraps of paper scattered below her.
Gearing Up
Flora stared at the bowl of lumpy mush Dawson had put in front of her, taking it off Harriet's tray himself. She had tried a spoonful, but the texture of it made her spit it back out as she stuck out her tongue and pushed it away from her. Her bruised eye throbbed and she put her fingertips on it and tried to absorb what they were going to be doing tonight. They were going to kill someone.
Lady Miranda Dells was on the street tonight, promised by whatever source Harriet used, and whom they had never discovered. That source had always been accurate though, but Miranda Dells was a Noble.
Only last night she had been locked up on route to jail for stealing from a Noble and the boys had saved her. Knowing that she was most likely going to be killed for attempting to steal from a Noble. They stole from anyone else, everyone else, but not the Nobility. Now they were supposed to kill one. It would be torture, followed by death. Flora imagined it while biting her lip, spilling blood, the salty taste coating her tongue.
A shadow blocked out the light over her shoulder and she glanced up to see Melinoe, one of Hare's Tavern's mistresses. Flora sent her a tight lipped smile and cringed down a little, bracing herself for disapproval.
"Oh, my," Melinoe said with her deep voice, raising her light brown hand to stroke Flora's eye. Flora let her, trying to relax into her smooth touch. Melinoe was the closest thing she had to a sister. If she had asked about it, Melinoe would have told Flora that she was the older sister. As the older sister however, Melinoe hated to see Flora bruised up.
Her cool hand was perfectly manicured and soft on her face, while soft dark ringlets of hair followed their own path around her head in a fro. "I heard you got lost last night," she said, dropping her hands to sit on her wide hips. Putting a strain on her clean, light, cherry dress that threatened to push her breasts out of their place, and glared up at Dawson. Even though Dawson was sitting down, he was nearly taller then Melinoe, though, it was easy to be taller than Melinoe. "You lied. She looks dreadful,"she said, lifting a finger to slowly rove up and down Flora's body, just off her skin.
"Thanks, Mel," Flora said as Dawson went red and shrugged from Melinoe's glare.
They both ignored her. "There is only so much we can do when she decides to run off her on own," Dawson replied, his finger tracing circles on the table with his eyes following.
Melinoe rolled her eyes, and gently smacked his shoulder before walking off. Dawson hurried to follow, begging for forgiveness as usual, but with a grin on his lips.
"Those two and their games," said Roanan. "Just like that, all thoughts of the letter are forgotten as he pines after his women, just like last week."
Flora watched Dawson's lips move and Melinoe look up at him through lowered lashes. Soon Dawson's hand went to rest on Melinoe's lower back. She had to force the coarse breath from her lungs as she watched the joy those two had for each other.
"Better that than the other things found in this room," Flora said.
Roanan's eyes glanced to the door to the back room as he moved over to fill the space Dawson vacated. His huge shoulders filled the small space quickly and he grabbed Dawson's bowl of mush.
"How can you eat so much of that?" Lorcel said, his jaw dropped down in disgust.
"Dawson's loss," said Roanan with the spoon in his mouth. "If a pretty woman makes him forget to eat, then he needs to learn better."
Flora smiled and pushed the rest of her half-eaten bowl towards Roanan who grinned with full cheeks as he winked at Flora. Roanan needed it more than she did anyway, being by far the largest of all her brothers. Possibly one of the largest men in the room. Young enough yet to still be putting the food into his shoulders rather than into his belly. He was trim, but he slept less than the other brothers, and someone who moved that much, needed more food than the rest.
"Flora," Thren said, grabbing Flora's attention, his eyes tracking Harriet as she moved throughout the bar. "You are staying here tonight." His face a cool mask as he sipped at a large mug of ale. Breakfast mush now was long forgotten for him as well. Roanan would probably eat it.
"That sounds like a rule that was made to be broken," Flora said, her eyes doubling in size. "Not happening, this is big, who knows what could happen," Flora finished while crossing her arms and leaning away from the table.
"Exactly and you are in worse shape than all of us. We are tired enough after yanking you out of that wagon," Thren said leaning back and crossing his arms as well. "The streets are going to be on high alert and we don't need to worry about you being too broken to function Flora."
Flora stared at him for what felt like a full minute before leaning forward on the table, her arms now resting again on the worn wood in front of her. "You can't exactly lock me in here, so which way do you plan to do this?" Flora said casually, playing with the cutlery on the table. Its metal grounding Flora to her goal. "Cause I have a fear of missing out on the fun, as you well know."
Thren leaned farther back in his chair taking the front legs off the floor. Balancing as he thought. Watching Flora spin the knife through her fingers. Lorcel bit his lower lip hard while his sombre eyes stared at Flora, and he leaned over the table to rest his hand on his jaw.
He looked back over at Thren. "My money is on Flora," he said. "We can't lock her up. It is better if you know where she is. Otherwise, we will just worry wondering how far back and what trouble she got into without us?"
Flora smiled. "Thanks, L—"
"If she is going to screw everything up—" he interrupted her to finish, meeting her eyes. " It is better to know where she is. She didn't follow your orders last night so I would be shocked if she followed them tonight."
Flora turned her head back to her knife.
"She can be on building look out," Perry chimed in, his voice light. "No risk to her. Unless she's rusty and misses a jump between buildings," He finished, tossing an object at her face.
Flora's reflexes caught it in her palm before she even registered what it was.
"Oh yeah, she's fine," said Roanan. Or at least, that is what Flora was pretty sure he said over the spoon in his mouth.
Flora narrowed
her eyes at Perry before looking into her hand. It was a ring. Small and silver with a smoky gem set at the centre of a delicately shaped blossom. She smirked at Perry, who smirked back, as she slipped it onto her pinky finger, which was the only finger it would fit, as it was thankfully not currently swollen.
"You kept back another one?" Flora asked. "Not that I mind, but Harriet will start stealing these from me instead if you keep so much back from her loot."
"How greedy can she be. Pawn it for some food and make her really angry," Roanan said back tossing a wink at Flora.
Perry turned his head to Thren and released a slow sigh. "She is sharp enough, even with one eye. I'll be on the up top with her. I can train my sights on you and still cover for her."
Thren scratched the side of his cheek, rocking back and forth on the back legs of his seat, before throwing his hands up and rolling forward on his chair with a loud thump conceding defeat. Resting his hands back on his ale, he took a large swig, small droplets rolling down his neck.
Flora's skin chilled quickly as she thought about the night ahead. The smell of the crusted blood on her clothes bringing her back to reality.
"Why murder though?" Flora quietly asked Thren who was now only focused on the mug in front of him. "We are thieves, but we haven't killed anyone before. I thought that was the only reason the guards haven't dragged us out of here by now."
"Maybe that's not it, we cause just enough trouble to stay off the warrant lists. Well, at least before last night anyway," Lorcel added with a glare at Flora. "Maybe she wants to kill us."
"Enough already" Flora spat at Lorcel who turned green as another quake bounced him in his seat. "You can't just bring it up again and again."
Lorcel raised his eyebrows, looking like he was going to explode. After a breath, Lorcel looked back at Thren. "Or maybe the old bag is tired of us. Sometimes, we are more trouble than we are worth and she wants us dealt with," he finished, dragging a finger across his neck.
Flora Page 2