Flora

by Kendal M Lyon

  She always wore her best clothes to this market, usually borrowed from Melinoe, since most of what she had was made out of leather. She would avoid the guards, always keeping a watchful eye on them. Luckily, she was only another drab girl at the market, and their eyes would usually follow one Noble ladies of the city. This was absolutely fine by her as she was left to inhale bundles of fresh blossoms. Sometime she would coming away with a hint of pollen on her nose.

  Thankfully these guards were sweet compared to the guards around Harriets. These ones were all quite soft, barely weathered, with the shoulders on the jackets hanging long over gangly arms. The young and the new guards were stationed in the flower district. Apparently, who ever was in charge believed there was not enough value here to cause too much trouble. The moment they got even a small sniff of their first bit of action they were pulled out. Until the guards eventually grew tough enough to be stationed closer to her district, or the army, if they survived.

  She ducked lower along the edge, if she blew their cover she would have more than the guards to worry about. Especially if Thren had anything to say about it. Her neck snapped back to her brothers as Thren's arm went up on the street. The mark was close.

  Flora loosened the throwing knives in her boots, opening up her bruised eye as wide as she could. She slowly breathed, steadying herself. Stretching her fingers in rhythm with her breath. Drying them off on her cloak, cursing this Miranda Dells with every breath. This had to go smoothly for all their sakes. Thren and Dawson moved over one doorway to the next building. The door creaked open, and they slipped inside.

  "Crap," said Flora to herself under her breath. She uttered words that would even make Harriet's ears burn as she watched them disappear.

  Street robberies were so much easier. Easy to target, easy to hide, easy to escape. Especially when you knew the streets. Anything could happen when they went into unknown buildings.

  She got into the best position she could, ducking low as she jumped the last gap she would need to before the action got started. Now she was on the building roof right across from the doorway. There were some candles lit inside and she could see a group of three people. Though, she had no idea which one was their mark.

  Lorcel and Roanan were close to the building below. Lorcel pulled out her ring and casually walked up to the booth nearest to the door, flicking it through his fingers. Flora wondered what the merchant was about to sell him as Lorcel tried to blend in on the street. Roanan hung out casually beside him with his fingers drifting by his sword handle as he swayed

  An owl was hooting somewhere else in the city. A horse was walking nearby.

  Flora felt a touch on her boot and saw the dark form of the first fairy to show up for the night. Not evening standing as tall as her boot with its black fleshy wings and pale skin, it stared up at her and hissed. Its blood-red tongue sticking out at her. Flora shook her foot and scared it away into the night.

  Perry was on the roof across from her, next door to where Thren and Dawson had gone, with his bow drawn, arrows pointed to the doorway in case some unsavoury soul decided to go in or out without Thren's approval.

  The movement of Lorcel showing the ring to the merchant was the only movement Flora noticed as she stared into the dark windows across her.

  Two shadows crossed one of the windows on the second floor, a wisp of red hair the only mark. So far so good, one more floor till they were at the lit room. Flora reminded herself to breathe as her lungs screamed for oxygen, exhilaration pounding through her.

  Two guards casually walked around the corner, like they were supposed to every night. Making Flora turn her head, the gold stitching on their uniform glistening. They were walking in the shadows cast by one of the buildings, and as they crossed in front of the building her brothers were in, she prayed the guards would hold off for a moment. Long enough for the guards to leave. The guards came underneath a lamp post as they neared the door, and the hair stood up on her neck when she realized that she had never seen these two large, muscular, twitching men before.

  Thren crashed open the door of the lit room. One of the men yelled and made to grab his sword but Flora's arm swung before she registered everything that was happening. Throwing a knife through the glass window, barely missing the back of Thren's head. The knife caught the man's sleeve, pinning it to the wall.

  The man was pale white as his face turned to the window, seeing only a broken pane of glass while blood gushed through his hand. She saw only the smallest white beard, as Thren laid into him. Knocking him out before pulling the knife from his hand as the body slumped to the floor. Thren wrestled with another man as Dawson's dealt with a third large woman, who could only be Miranda Dells.

  Flora shook sweat from her eyes as she tried to see what was happening. She looked back at the street, the two mysterious guards had gone into the building.

  It was all flickering and shadows as the struggle continued. Coming in and out of sight of the window with such fury that it was hard to tell who was winning.

  Dawson and Thren were still struggling when some movement from a dark window across the other side of the building caught her attention. She turned head ever so slightly to take them in. A large group of people were moving across the hallway. By the gleam of the many swords that were being reflected back to Flora, they could only be one thing.

  Dawson and Thren were going to be trapped in there by what seemed like a legion of the king's military. They were already trapped.

  "Thren—" she said sputtering before a knife slid up along her own throat, silencing her windpipe with its cold steal.

  She could feel a slight prick as it slightly cut her, and the warmth of her blood went down her neck as its fresh iron smell reached her.

  Yes Lord

  She froze as she felt the chilling touch of metal along her skin as the knife turned, the flat edge now pressing along her throat. Swiftly followed by the feeling of a bristled cheek along hers as her eyes stared forward. She could feel her heart trembling as the soldiers busted into the room, quickly overwhelming her brothers. She was unsure if they had called out as she heard nothing but the beat of her own heart, but the last sight she saw of Dawson was him being hauled to the ground, his red hair disappearing from the window.

  She pulled her eyes as far as she could without pressing the knife farther into her skin to where Perry was, his dark skin helping him blend into the night had him barely noticeable. Though his eyes were wide and his bow was trained on her, specifically on the man behind her.

  Her view of the street was limited, as she leaned back into the man, away from the knife. She held her breath as she tried to turn her eyes to see if her brothers could get away. Her hope dwindled as sounds of battle came up from the streets below. The screaming of the people of the flower district raising up above all of it as they caught sight of so many drawn swords.

  "Go," She mouthed to Perry. Praying he would see and listen.

  "None of that now," said the soft voice of a man scraping the knife along her throat.

  "I don't know what you are talking about," Flora said, she breathed, stifling her bodies quivering.

  The man laughed. "There are only so many ladies who would be crouching on the rooftop dressed in leather and knives, scouting for some known gang members who were sent to kill Lady Miranda, and my Lady needs one of them."

  "Sounds like a rare creature," Flora said. "Are you sure such a person exists?"

  A chuckle was her only response.

  "If you let me go I won't tell anyone," Flora said again.

  "But this was all for you my dear, I have worked hard to make it happen," he said, causing her heart to stop in its tracks. "I see your man over there," he continued, still brushing the flat of the knife along her throat, up and down, he shoved her to the edge of the building and the drop reared up towards her. "So, let's not start out this relationship with you playing stupid Flora."

  Flora's toes dug into the brick in front of her as she pushed against
him. Her arm moving for her knife. "You've got the wrong girl," Flora said, trying to turn. "I can not help you."

  Only to be grabbed by the man's arm, pinning it to her body.

  "Be smarter than that," he whispered into her ear, now able to see the hook of his nose, only an inch from hers. "Men!" he shouted to the guards below, his mouth so close to her ear she would normally have flinched had there not been a knife pressed to her throat. "Another is on the roof across the way," he said with a nod of his chin. Nodding right to where Perry stood.

  Perry's eyes met hers. "Sorry," he mouthed before disappearing into the night. Relief wanted to shimmy down her shoulders, but she muffled that feeling too.

  "It took a lot of persuasion to get help to hunt down a harlot such as yourself. For so long, I couldn't," he said into her ear as he pressed his body against hers. She leaned into him. It was either that or the edge of the building. "I was almost worried I would not find you," he finished, yanking her back from the edge.

  Flora let his voice go in one ear but she would process it later as she tried to use the momentum to grab a knife of her own but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it around her as she shouted out in pain.

  "Stop stop stop," Flora said as she gasped. He was going to break her arm, and it kept pulling tighter and tighter. When Flora screamed out, she finally felt the Lord stop pulling on her arm. He kept her pinned, and her arm throbbed, but it was unbroken.

  The Lord stretched his head over the edge of the cliff, Flora on the inside of the building beside him. Flora flinched at the roaring that came out of his mouth, echoing along the inside of her head.

  "If that man gets away, you will all be whipped," the Lord screamed, his grip tightening with every breath. "Sir Oswald, get the men together."

  Flora's gaze darted down, seeing nothing. She could hear guards floundering around down below and she felt hope flicker in her that her brother could get away. He continued to shove her towards the staircase to the streets, never taking the knife from her throat, breaking the lock on the outside of the door so he could take her down to the streets and his other men.

  Shattered Hopes

  Flora saw only the lips of the steps, lit by a meagre ounce of light that came through a single glass window farther down, with every other corner shrouded in darkness. She stumbled, ever conscious of the knife at her throat. When Flora's feet dropped the first step down the staircase she let her body weight fall, her stomach going into her throat with the movement, and slid against the Lord. The silence that followed made Flora's skin creep, as Flora come out from under his knife, tumbling farther down the stairs.

  "You need to learn," said the Lord finally, his voice cutting through the quiet.

  She could hear the Lord laugh as she slid downstairs, hitting all the bruises she had from the other night and she cursed with ever bump until she caught her momentum and righted herself. Flinging her hands up in front of herself to catch her face from hitting the wall beside the filthy window pane.

  She turned quickly, pulling out the knife along her inner thigh, as she saw the Lord's silhouette standing with his arms at his side, still at the top of the stairs, the knife reflecting the little light from the world outside back to her.

  The door opened up from below and the stomping of feet reached her ears as more soldiers joined them in the stairwell. With ever drum of a step the Lord's grin grew wider.

  "What are you going to do now?" The Lord asked. "I'm curious."

  Flora grinned with tight lips back up at him. Flora crouched her way slowly back up the stairs, with a knife in her hands, watching the Lord for any twitch.

  "You are outmatched," the Lord said, waiting with patience at the top of the steps.

  When Flora was within feet she made a lunge, which he blocked with his own knife. Which was what she had been hoping he would do.

  She reached in with her other hand for his wrist holding the knife, bending to try and propel the Lords momentum over her, and escape back to the roof and into the night. He was one step ahead of her, and when she grabbed his wrist, he dropped his knife. It clattered to the ground and slid down a few steps, while he grabbed her own wrist, and pulled her arm so hard around Flora had to turn to keep her arm in her socket.

  Flora gasped but still kept a hold on her knife as she turned around, knife now aiming for the Lord's gut, but he brought his knee up into her hand, driving the blade away from him. Her momentum had pulled her nearly all the way around. Flora dug her toes into the steps below her as she tried to hurl her momentum in the other direction, her knife slashing back at the Lord.

  The Lord booted her from behind, sending Flora skidding back down the stairs as the knife skittered with her. Flora dodged the sharp blade as it slid to a stop with her on the edge of the stairwell, the Lord still standing back at the top of the stairs, grinning with white teeth.

  Flora grabbed up the knife and pressed her back against the wall, reaching to look over the edge of the stair railing. To her dismay, the first guard was nearly below her. Her lips pinched together as her fingers bit into the rail.

  She kept her knife pointed to the Lord, though he had not moved an inch from the top step. She reached her hand to the rail, gripping it tight as she jumped over. Pulling herself with her one arm over its ledge and kicking the guard below her square in the chest. Her power knocked him down into the other guards behind, sending the lot of them pouring down the well in a tangle of limbs.

  Her momentum had her hanging off the balconies edge and she pulled herself back up by her screaming biceps. Righting herself again on the stairs, only to look up to the top of the stairs to see the Lord had still not moved. He had only watched the events unfold.

  "You're toying with me," Flora said.

  The Lord grinned.

  With a shake of her head and pursed lips, Flora tossed her knife in the air. Catching it on the point and heaved her arm back, releasing the knife to fly towards the Lord.

  "Sorry," Flora said with a smile at the Lord who smiled back, his knife still on the ground below him as her own hurled at his face.

  Until the Lord moved to the side, his arm grabbing the knife mid air and twirling to send it flying down the stairs again at Flora. The knife twanged as it dug into the wood on the side of the window opposite to hers. The Lord was still grinning.

  She looked between the Lord and the guards below as her back slid along the wall, the heat of the window radiating on her hand when she reached it. She pushed her palm against the glass behind her, moving along and blocking the sight of her hand with her body from the Lord's view. The Lord was playing, and Flora cursed loudly when she realized it.

  Flora could feel her heart beat rise as she stared at the Lord until the thumping up steps up the stairway reached her ears again. The guards had finally righted themselves and were headed back for her. "Damn," Flora said as she turned and booted the glass behind her. "Only one option left,"The pane only cracked.

  "Stop," Screamed the Lord as Flora backed up to the railing, and sprinted at the window, not daring to look back at the Lord.

  If the Lord said more his voice was lost as the shattering of glass filled her ears. She kept her hands in front of her, blocking the largest shards from hitting her face.The glass fanned out as she fell, and she caught herself rolling on the paving stones below. The moment she slowed she tried to press herself up into a run, but she was too late. She could feel the weight of a fully armored guard slam hard on her back, pinning her to the ground with a thump as the glass shards around her pricked skin.

  Absently, Flora wondered if it was even possible to feel more pain as she smelt the dust and stone. Numb from the pressure above.

  "You're done for the night," the guard's voice said. Flora could not see him as he put a hand on her head, pressing her cheek into the ground below. She could see the boots of a second guard coming over her with her one good eye, and then the dangling of rope as it was passed to the guard on top of her who tied it around her hands. Then, still si
tting on her, twirled it around her feet.

  The guards rolled her over. She was now able to move her head and look around, squirming as she tried to get out from under the guard's weight. She was facing the dark shattered building she had jumped from, and standing in the window was a shadow of a figure. It stilled her movements as she looked up at the form.

  "It was wonderful to meet you, Flora, you will work well I think," came the Lord's voice. "I'm glad to see you took the landing with ease."

  Flora stared at him as she felt hands grab her under her shoulders and around her feet, picking her up and walking her away. She tried to see where she was being taken, but her view was blocked by the guards milling around. While the street lamp's flames were too small to cover much distance.

  The black block of a prison cart was all Flora caught a glance of when the guards swung her body back and then forward, releasing her to land with another thump against the hard metal floor of the cart. She laid there for a minute, gasping. Her eyes squeezed tight as her body fought to deal with the pain that was shooting through her.

  "Flora, you still alive?" Said a voice.

  It took Flora a moment after she blinked her eyes open to realize it was Dawson, also bound hand and foot, but leaning up against the wall of the cart. She sagged into the floor with relief.

  "Still alive," Flora croaked out, as she spat blood from her mouth. "Thren?"

  "On your other side," Dawson said.

  Flora twisted her body around to try and find Thren, seeing first the opening of the cart, the door still open. Five guards stood there with swords pointed at the opening. In the distance, the Lord was now crouched at the broken window, speaking down to one of his guardsmen. It was the last thing she saw before the door slammed shut.