Several heads perked up and whispers rippled through the tavern as several men walked over and accepted the deal that solved the problem many of them were trying to drink away.
"Being a soldier of Dragon's Cove, you will also receive recruits' pay on the day of every full moon."
Three more men stood and wandered over to the small group of recruited men who now stood in the doorway.
The Captain went on for several more minutes adding more and more positive information about joining, yet none of the negative was even hinted at. His voice echoed with pride, yet his eyes showed necessity.
"If any of you change your mind, come to the eastern barracks and ask for me." The Captain and the dozen patrons that had joined walked out of the Crooked Stool.
"Well, that might be helpful," Dahak said, finishing off his ale in a fast gulp.
"What you mean?" Shania asked. "You are already soldiers."
"They do not know that," he replied with a boyish grin. "Go back to The Nail's Edge and tell the other what we heard here."
"What?" Shania blurted out, but it was too late, Dahak had already gotten up and ran to the doors.
"Wait! Wait!" Dahak shouted nearly slipped in the mud.
Captain Dugger and the others turned to regard him.
"What is it?" The Captain asked.
"I wish to join you," Dahak replied, as he skidded to a stop a few paces away from the group. "For the sake of my family," he added, seeing a raised brow from the Captain.
The Captain eyed him for a moment suspiciously. "Where did you come from?" the Captain asked.
"The Sheeva River encampment sir," Dahak blurted out, as it was the first name that came to mind.
"And what did you do there?"
Dahak began to wonder if the Captain somehow knew who he was and what he was about. He began to get nervous and his palms began to sweat. "I was a butcher." He could think of nothing else.
The Captain eyed him harder, looking him up and down. "Interesting attire for a butcher, would you not say? Military boots and a standard issue claymore. Might you add how it is you came to own such attire?"
Dahak's heart thumped hard in his chest - he knew his breathing was quickening, no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady. "I…I… they were my brother's sir - he was a soldier at the encampment. But, the first volley of arrows that assaulted the encampment caught him off guard and he was one of the first to die. So I took his boots and sword and swore vengeance."
"And did you stay and fight?" Dugger asked, though knowing the answer.
"No sir, I…I fled like a coward with the rest of the townsfolk," Dahak replied, the stuttering in his voice from being nervous only added to his story as a show of emotion.
"Hard to get revenge when you run away with your tail between your legs boy," one of the tavern's drunker patrons barked out, drawing a laugh from several others.
"Silence!" the Captain snapped, turning a sharp eye on the man.
"I am no soldier, sir, but I want revenge!" Dahak growled. "Only way to get it is to become a soldier!"
The Captain's eyes softened at that. "I thought you said you were doing it for your family?"
"Just ‘cause my brother's dead, sir, does not make him any less family in my eyes!" Dahak barked back. "Plus the rest of my family has nothing now; my brother was always the protector. With him dead, I fear it falls on me to help out more."
"What your name?" Dugger asked.
"Dahak."
"Well Dahak, I promise you here and now, I will help you get your revenge!" the Captain replied. "As for your family, I will send someone to gather them and their things on the morrow."
"Thank you sir."
*****
Shania sat at the table, suddenly feeling very alone and even more vulnerable. She peered under her deep hood and scanned the small crowed that still inhabited the tavern. Her heart began to pound hard in her chest; she could hear it beating in her ears and was sure everyone else could too. She could not help but feel like all eyes were on her now. Each glance thrown her way was like an arrow slamming into her chest. Every creak in the floorboards caused her to flinch and look behind her. Every whisper was regarding her, every grin full of malice.
Shania's breathing quickened, small beads of sweat slid down her neck. Both hands clenched the handles of her twin blades hidden beneath her cloak. It took every bit of her self-control not to draw them.
"You look like you have seen a ghost, Hun," the tavern wench said looking down at her with concern.
Shania's eyes shot up and met the woman's with both fear and rage at being startled. "I fine! I fine!" she stuttered out.
The woman continued to look down at her. "Are you sure, Hun? Where'd that man you were with go off too?"
"None of your business!" Shania snapped back. She jumped to her feet and bolted for the door, drawing more than one pair of eyes her way at the sporadic scene.
Shania jumped off the wooden steps leading up to the Crooked Stool, hit the muddy earth below and slipped, landing hard in the mud. Quickly regaining her feet, she looked around and saw several people walking over to her.
"You all right, Miss?" one stranger asked.
Shania pushed him hard out of the way and ran, her eyes scanning everything around her, trying to take in any abnormal shadows or movement that might be danger.
"What was that all about?" one man asked another.
"Have not the foggiest of ideas," the other replied as he stepped aside giving room for the three men leaving the Crooked Stool.
Shania skidded around a corner into a narrow ally and slumped behind an old wooden crate. Her breathing was hard, her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to fight away the anxiety. How could he just abandon her like that? Just leave her alone in this strange place. He must have known she would not remember the way back to the inn. How could he not? Now here she was hiding in an alleyway, lost, alone and scared.
Shania wiped the tears that streaked her cheeks and took several deep breaths, calming herself a bit. "Calm down Shania, you are stronger than this," she whispered to herself, the sound of her own voice soothing her more. "This is nothing - you been through worse!" she reminded herself.
"Who you talking to?" A female voice said from the shadows several feet away to her left.
Shania's heart nearly stopped and her face paled as she swallowed back bile. The stranger must have noticed her unease.
"I am not gonna hurt you, I promise," the young girl said as she crawled out of the gloom so Shania could see her. "You ain't gonna need them, I swear it," the girl said, looking down at the curved blades in Shania's white knuckled hands.
Shania turned her head to look at the girl and was surprised to see the girl could not have been more than ten or eleven winters old. Her mind eased a bit and she loosened her grip on her curved blades.
"Those are mean looking weapons you got. What are they?" the girl asked, moving off to the other side of the ally wall to sit in front of Shania.
Shania looked down at her curved blades then back up at the girl. "I was told they are called scythes."
"You are not from around here, are you?" the girl asked.
Shania's eyes shifted uneasily, remembering her heritage was not accepted among these people. "No."
"What brings ya to Dragon's Cove?" she asked, reaching in her tattered dark green cloak and pulling out a small hunk of bread.
"Came with friends," Shania said bluntly, not wanting to say too much.
"Would you like some?" the girl asked, lifting up the food.
Shania shook her head. "I do not take things from strangers."
The girl laughed aloud but stopped herself quickly, a look of worry crossed her face momentarily as she looked up and down the alley. "I almost forgot, my name's Keisha. What's yours?"
"Shania," she replied nervously, not sure why she was answering at all.
"Where are your friends?" Keisha asked, biting into the bread hungrily.
Before Sha
nia could answer, two shadows loomed towards the alley's entranceway and the voices of two men could be heard.
"I know she came this way," one of the voices said.
"How can you be so sure?" The other asked.
"I can tell by the tracks she left in the mud," the first voice answered.
"There are a hundred footprints; how can you be so sure you are following the right ones?"
"Because you cowson, she was running and frightened by something and you can see these footprints are longer in stride and her footing was uneven and unbalanced each time her feet touched the mud as they are not clear footprints, more like foot smudges."
"And where do they lead then, oh great tracker?" the second man replied sarcastically.
"Into that alley," the first man said again, drawing a dagger from his belt.
"Friends of yours?" Keisha whispered to Shania.
Shania shook her head, her knuckles tightening on her weapons once more.
"Follow me!" Keisha got up and waved Shania to follow.
Shania sprang to her feet and sprinted after Keisha, nearly tripping several times over discarded garbage and ruble.
"There she is!" The two men yelled and began to chase.
Shania skidded out of the alleyway and searched frantically for where Keisha had gone. She looked down the alley; the two men were nearing the end, their curses, and grunts leading the way through the darkness.
"Over here!" Keisha waved from a broken window frame to a large worn down building.
Shania bolted over and Keisha helped pull her through into the dark warehouse.
"They went in there!" one of the men yelled.
"Come on, we got to keep moving. Here, take my hand - I know where to go." Keisha grabbed Shania's hand and took off through the dark at a steady pace, weaving through dark unknown silhouettes.
Shania's eyes soon adjusted to the near absolute darkness. The small amount of moonlight shining through various cracks and holes allowed her to see her surroundings within arm's length.
A loud crashing sound behind them alerted them that their pursuers had found another way into the building.
"We are almost there!" Keisha called back, as they began climbing a long set of stairs, taking them two at a time.
"Over there, they're going up the stairs!" a voice yelled from the dark.
"We got them now!" the second man called out.
The stairs ended and they found themselves on a rope-suspended walkway. The swaying plank way ran parallel along the back wall; boarded windows lined the length of the building emanating dusty beams of moonlight through their fissures.
Their sudden weight rocked the suspended bridge, making balancing difficult with every quickened step. The aged, decaying wood beneath their feet groaned in protest at the newly given weight of each awkward footstep.
Keisha stopped and pointed to a beam of wood tied down to the walkway and leading to a large hole in one of the windows. "Quickly, get across!"
Shania looked back at their pursuers. The two men were half way up the stairs.
"Come on! We are almost out!" Keisha cried to her.
Shania placed a foot on the beam and then the next, collecting her balance from the swaying before starting forward to the window. Within seconds, Shania was across; she looked back to see Keisha already making her way across.
"I do not think so, you little bitch!" one of the men screamed cutting one of the rope handrails, causing the whole walkway to shift violently.
The beam beneath Keisha jerked suddenly, her footing faltered and she fell forward. Her arms frantically searching for the beam as she fell, she grabbed hold of it in a death grip.
Shania looked down at Keisha dangling from the wooden beam, and looked back over to the men, who were moments away now.
"Just go!" Keisha yelled. "There's nothing you can do for me!"
The first pursuer had reached the beam and began cutting away at the rope holding it in place.
Shania snarled and sprinted across the beam, her blades flashing into her hands. The man looked up just in time to see a curved blade sink deep into his shoulder and neck. The man lurched backward with a scream, pulling Shania's right-hand blade out of her hand and with him as he disappeared over the side.
The other man was clinging to the rope suspended pathway, not being able to get his balance now that one of the ropes was cut. Shania was about to pursue him when she remembered Keisha and turned back to see the street girl had inched her way to the window ledge and was climbing up.
"Come on," Keisha waved her back over.
Outside the window was a thick rope that lead to the ground; they slid down and were happy to be on solid ground once more with a sigh of relief.
Keisha looked up at Shania, shock and awe in her eyes. "You risked your life back there to save mine, why?"
"You helped me get away and had no reason to."
"Ya, but I was just helping you so I could steal those wicked blades of yours," Keisha confessed with a look of shame. "You, you helped me like… like a friend would help another friend."
"You were going to steal from me?" Shania snarled, tightening her grip on the one blade she had left.
"Was, yes, I am a thief - it is what I do, but now…" Keisha stopped to think for a moment. "No way could I rob someone who saved my life, out of simple good will."
"Hey! What is going on down there?" someone yelled out from down the alleyway.
"Come on, let us get out of here," Keisha said, and they melted off into the shadows of the night.
*****
Ursa stood motionless looking out the tavern room's window. Dawn was just beginning its assault on the darkness of night. Pushing eerie shadows back to the gloomy corners and hiding places they had emerged from many hours earlier. A light, morning mist drifted calmly from the cool earth, dissipating into nothingness before it had even reached the lowest of rooftops.
No more than a small handful of people were about this early; most were wandering homeless, using the vacant streets and alleyways to search for fallen coin, or discarded scrapes of food.
"I am beginning to get worried," Zehava said, walking over to stand by Ursa.
Ursa turned to regard him for a moment doing well to hide the fact that he had not heard the man get up from the bed, where the others were still sleeping. "I, too, am starting to worry." He went back to looking out the window.
"Do not get me wrong, Dahak is extremely trustworthy and loyal, and will do whatever you tell him to do if it is important," Zehava said, sitting down on the chair by the window. "Now whether or not he can achieve what is asked of him…" Zehava paused briefly, "that is a different story. What do we do if they do not show up?" But Ursa was not listening, his attention focusing fully on something going on outside.
"What is it?" Zehava asked, looking out to see a military standard wagon pulling up to the tavern with several armed soldiers.
"We have a very serious problem," Ursa snapped around, "everyone up!"
"Wha… what is it?" Meath mumbled, as he rolled onto his side to look at them.
"Get ready to move!" Ursa barked at him as he began gathering their things.
Meath was about to ask why, but stopped himself, he knew better than to interrogate the Wizard on something such as this, and was on his feet in a flash, momentarily forgetting the stiffness and soreness of his present state.
"Meath what is going on?" Nicolette asked her eyes wide and brimming with concern.
"It will be ok - just grab your things. We may have to go soon," Meath told her, strapping on his sword belt.
"What are we going to do?" Nicolette asked.
"Depends on what happens," Ursa replied, still watching out the dirty window. Three of the armed guards had stayed with the wagon, while the other six had made their way into the tavern. "For now, we wait. But be ready to do exactly what I say."
Time seemed to slow painfully. Every heartbeat felt like forever. Finally, footsteps could be heard coming do
wn the hallway to their door. Meath and Zehava gripped their swords tightly, expecting the worst.
There was a light knock at the door. Ursa grabbed the doorknob and took a few deep breaths, being ready to summon his Gift in an instant if need be. He opened the door slowly and peered out into the hallway, to see the young servant girl standing there.
"There are some soldiers downstairs looking for you," she told him.
"Soldiers?" Ursa asked. "Do you know what they want?"
"They said you are to go with them to new housing within the training encampment as part of a deal made with Dahak."
Ursa cocked an eyebrow at the mention of that and smiled to her. "Tell them we will gather our things and be down shortly." She smiled upward and then turned and ran back down to the tavern.
"What happened?" They all asked in union as soon as Ursa closed the door.
"That crafty halfwit did it!" Ursa muttered, shaking his head in utter enlightenment.
"Who did what?" Zehava asked, looking to Meath and Nicolette confused.
Ursa turned to them and smiled, "Gather your things. You two hide your weapons and act like poor farmers. Princess, rough up your looks and keep your hood up, and eyes down and stay by me at all times."
"Okay, what is happening?" Meath blurted out, still confused.
"Dahak and Shania found us a way in," Ursa grinned.
The process was less stressful than any of them anticipated. The Captain and his men had spent most of the evening and morning collecting the families of the new recruits and had grown tired and complacent and paid little mind to those whom they gathered now. Even the Captain merely greeted them - he made sure their things made it into a wagon, and then sent them on their way to the castle with two soldiers to accompany them.
Within an hour, they were set up in a large canvas tent in the midst of hundreds of others. The only furniture in the tent was four cots, a wooden table and chairs, and an ironwood stove for cooking simple meals. They were simple accommodations but it was far better than what most of the refugees had in the city.
"I cannot believe he got us inside the castle walls," Zehava said softly. They were only feet away from other tents on all sides of them and privacy was unlikely.
The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1) Page 26