“I don’t know,” she said, focusing on Reid’s heart. She fought back a lump in her throat. “Like you said, he must be…delirious”
“I see—”
“Roe,” Reid shouted again. “Our parents are wrong! The One-King must die!” His heart fluttered as the boulder shagged slowly to the pit floor.
“How disappointing—”
“Reid,” she screamed, piercing her own sensitive hearing with her voice. “Reid, please, say something!” She could still hear his beating heart, slow and labored.
Count Sago straightened himself from the pit. “Commissioner. Take the girl back. Compensate her village with one of my ox. Pick an older one, the boy isn’t worth a young bull—”
Roe lunged for the Count only to be caught in mid-air by her chains, slamming her her back to the ground. The chains pulled again, dragging her on the ground away from her brother, dust mingling with tears. “He’s still alive,” she shouted. “You have to help him! Everyone…we can all go lift that rock!”
Count Sago laughed. “Silly girl, no one can lift that rock.”
She shut her jaw tightly, that snide laugh setting off a rage inside her, all the while the dirt and rocks scraping at her back. She didn’t know how, but one day she would—
“I’ll kill you, Sago! I’ll kill all you,” she screamed, suddenly waking up in a dark room, soft beddings under her. She panicked, pushing herself up against a wooden wall, making herself as small as possible, searching the room for anything—
A large figure stood silhouetted by a warm light behind him, arms crossed about his chest with an orange and jasmine aroma coming from him. No, it wasn’t a ‘him.’ It was a ‘her.’
“You’re going to kill who now,” a woman’s voice said, sounding unamused.
“Where am I? Who are you? Where is—”
“Your boyfriend? Outside, eating.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You’re right. He’s not this ‘Reid.’”
“Wait, you sound…. I…I think I know you.”
“Damn right you do, girl,” she said, revealing a candle from behind her and placing it on a table in the center of the room.
“Rochelle?”
“Lady Davenance, you dumb girl,” she said, crossing her arms again. “They used to teach you Shadows to respect for your elders.”
Roe let her head thump on the wall behind her. This had to happen, coming to Faf’r. The Night Lady Rochelle found her, and Rochelle’s crew was probably swarming the place. Roe knew very little about them but judging by how incompetent Rochelle’s little idiot Mend was, leaving shouldn’t be a problem.
Deciding not to linger any longer, she jumped off the bed with surprising easy, landing on her feet. Her knees bent slightly too much but they held up pretty well. Pleased, Roe made it for the door—
Rochelle blocked her, looking down from her towering height “You really don’t think you can just walk out.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
Rochelle pointed at her. “Since it’s your first time—”
“First time?”
“I saved you, so you owe me, little Rowena.”
“How do you know who I am,” Roe snarled. “You’ve never seen me outside my outfit.”
Rochelle grinned, opening her hand toward chair at the table. “Questions go one way here, little Rowena.”
But Roe stood there, mimicking Rochelle’s crossed arms, even though her knees quivered from fatigue. She wasn’t going to let Mend’s hen-mother tell her what to do. “Do. Not. Call. Me. That,” Roe said, pointing her finger back at Rochelle.
“Fine, I won’t, but you have to tell me what’s with the Islander you’re with.”
Roe glanced around for a way to make it passed Rochelle, but she blocked the door too closely. And by her build, Roe doubted she could push her over.
“I don’t have to tell you anything. I don’t work for you. And it wouldn’t be smart keeping me here. You know who I work for. You’ve heard about what we can do. They’ll come for me—”
“Don’t. Stop,” Rochelle splayed her hand at her. “You’re embarrassing yourself. If you’re going to threaten a woman your senior, you should not sound like your about to cry.”
“I am not about to cry!”
“Then why the face full of tears?”
Roe shot a sleeve to her face, wiping away stray tears. She had been crying. “A bad dream, that’s all,” she sniffled.
Rochelle, again, opened a hand toward the chair. “Then tell me about it.”
“Are you going to let me pass, yes or no?”
“I already told you, things don’t work that way around here, little Rowena.” —Roe winched.— “The Coming Shadows have been getting pretty bold hanging around my territories lately, and then when one shows up on my back door without a word and, worse still, needs my help, the cost goes high, very high.”
“Other Shadows are here?” Maybe they could help her!
Rochelle snorted. “They ain’t gonna help you. They’re on their own devilish missions shadowing another stupid girl…,” Rochelle regarded her with a deep frown, probably wanting Roe to explain.
“I wouldn’t rat out other Shadows even if I knew what they were up to.”
“Too bad for you,” she chuckled, menacingly. “Get comfy, you know they ain’t gonna help you if they’re from other Shadow sects. Paranoid bastards.”
“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help!”
She bellowed out a hearty laughed. “Don’t need help? Several hours ago, you were hallucinating like you ate something awful, running wild through the streets, yelling about everything, at everything” Roe backed away, trying not to let horror slip on her face. She did all that? In public? What did she say? “Don’t worry,” Rochelle added. “I got to you in time before you did too much damage.”
“What…did I say, exactly?”
Rochelle reached a fist behind her, knocking twice on the door. The door opened, and Roe shielded her eyes from the sudden light. She tried squinting through, but before her sight could adjust, the door closed. Roe caught an aroma of vegetables, warm and sweet, sending her stomach gurgling. Rochelle snorted, setting a bowl of soup with bread sticking out of it on the table. “Go on, little Rowena,” she said. “Sit down. Eat.”
Reluctantly, Roe took the bowl but sat on the bed, instead. Not trying to appear famished, she dug into her soup, a warm delicious elixir revitalizing her back to life. “This is really delicious,” she couldn’t help uttering between bites.
Rochelle took a chair from the table and sat in front the door. “Damn right it is. I never do cheap favors. Bad for my customers. Bad for my crew. Bad for business.”
Roe slowed her eating. She had heard of favors owed to Rochelle before. Josie even owed her. Sometimes paying them back went against a mission and each time, Shadows were excused from their mission to pay her back. Roe eyed the tall barrel shaped woman, more akin to a lumberjack or miner than a matriarch of criminal house, with deep red hair braided in locks that fell to her shoulders, freckles, light skinned face with a strong jaw that reminded her of cursing sailors —a thought she decided to keep to herself. No wonder Mend feared her, though that wouldn’t take much.
She sat against the door with her arms crossed and legs stomped down like tree trunks. Even with her overbearing stature, she couldn’t be that impressive; she didn’t even have any blessing, at least any Roe was aware of. Why didn’t so many of her fellow Shadows just ignore her? It wasn’t as if the Shadows had plans to expand outside of Drakendor.
“What’s the matter,” she asked.
“Nothing,” Roe replied, getting back to work on her soup.
“You’re not the first, and I know what you’re thinking: why should I care about owing me anything? You think you can use me to avoid blundering up your job, get fed and be on your way forgetting all about paying me back?”
“I didn’t ask you for help, and what I was thinki
ng was that you don’t look that impressive. You’re just intimidating; a fake act to keep weak people in line.” Like Commissioners and foremen did to her village, her parents. Like Rochelle did with Mend. Disgusting. It wouldn’t work with her.
Rochelle let out another bellowing laugh, and for a second, Roe thought she had said something funny. “You got a lot to learn, little Rowena. But, reality is, whether you asked or not, I helped you out. The deed is done. So get it out of your head that you can scam me now.”
“Why not,” Roe whispered. “…why are the Shadows so afraid of you?”
Rochelle’s smirk failed, a sad look dawning on her face. “Who’s your sponsor? Josie Summers?”
“Was, but yea.”
“I’m sorry to hear.”
“Oh no, she’s still alive. I just meant that I’ve been made a full—”
“I know what you meant, girl,” she said with a cold edge. “If you really want to know why you shouldn’t cross me. Ask her. But…” She revealed from her pocket a cigar. She reached over and lit it on the candle; a scent of cloves mixed in with the jasmine and citrus. Taking in a draught and exhaling slowly, she continued, “I heard what you were babbling on about while you were out. Made a lot of sense to me. But I don’t know if anyone else heard or understood. Especially your oblivious boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Roe said, almost choking on a piece of bread.
“He’s not your boyfriend and he’s still alive? The Coming Shadows must be getting soft. Maybe there’s hope for all of us then.”
“Rochelle—”
“Lady Davenance.”
“Lady Davenance, what did I say while I was out?”
Rochelle took in another puff, dancing the smoke in her cheeks before exhaling. She pointed one finger up and said, “first favor: don’t kill the boy.”
Roe’s stomach churned. “Not my intention. I plan on stealing a horse and leaving here without him.”
“You won’t make it without his help. You’ll likely go crazy again and end up lost. Can’t send any one of my people and risk your people ambushing them. Know anyone else in this city you can trust? No? Of course not. Not the Coming Shadow’s creed.”
Roe looked down at her soup. Rochelle was right; she’d need Papp’s help, but if he followed her all the way to rendezvous, she’d have no choice. Her crew waiting there would kill him out of precaution, especially on such an important mission she was on.
“Alright,” Roe said. “I won’t.” She’d have to figure something out.
“Good. To answer your question, you muttered all over the street about your past in Drakendor, but that country is so closed up, I doubt anyone recognized what you were talking about, but if they did, Prince Landrie’s people will be on to you. They know the few people that come and go out of that Almighty-forsaken land are the Coming Shadows. Understood?”
“I’ll have to be more careful,” Roe replied.
Rochelle raised a second finger. “Favor two: a while back I sent a message to your Josie to watch for that idiot brat of mine, Mend. I want you to find out what happened.”
“How the hell would I know where Josie is—”
“That’s your one strike, girl. Don’t lie to me.” —Roe flinched.— “Even if she was your sponsor, she’s your superior. You’re going back to report to her on whatever mission you were doing. I also know where.”
“How do you know so much about us,” she hissed.
Rochelle took in another smoke. “Like I said, ask Josie.”
Roe gulped down the rest of her soup. “Alright…I’ll tell her when I reach her…and I’ll ask her about you.”
Rochelle raised a third finger. “Third…I’ll be saving for the future.”
“A third? No way, I—”
Rochelle splayed all her fingers in a stopping motion. “Words out that an Islander escaped from the jails in Landrie’s new mining town, Ruby City,” she continued. “That Islander outside doesn’t seem too concerned, but he’s helping you out more than I’d expect. That kind of hospitality they usually reserve for one of their own. He even fought us before we could help you.” Roe felt nauseous. He protected her? Damn Islander.
“I told you already,” Roe insisted. “I won’t let him get killed.”
Rochelle grinned. “The real question here is, little Rowena. Are you that little Islander who escaped those jails?” Roe let her expression grow cold; she wouldn’t given any hint to Rochelle, but judging by the grin on her face, she probably already knew the answer. But if she was right, Landrie’s people were searching for her. She couldn’t let herself be captured. For her mission and for her country. And she wouldn’t like the Major’s sacrifice be for nothing either.
Roe leapt to her feet. “I’ve got to go—”
Rochelle batted her hand for her to stop. “Relax, girl,” she said. “Landrie’s guys don’t think you could have made it this far, so no one’s searching for you here —yet. But after that weird act yesterday, news of you is going to spread. So, we’re going to run interference for you, so you can get to where you’re going.” Rochelle reached over and snuffed out her cigar on the table before concealing it with in her shirt pocket. “If your still hungry, now is the time to eat up. Your leaving as soon as you’re ready.” Rochelle did all that…for her? Even if it was for favors, Rochelle had to think Roe would just ignore her since they barely knew each other, and Roe would probably not be sent this way for a long time.
“Wait a minute,” Roe said. “Ro—Lady Davenance, Why are you helping me? What’s Josie going to say?”
Rochelle’s hard expression turned sympathetic. “I don’t help people. Not anymore. People help themselves, girl. I’m just making an investment. If you remember anything, remember this: I always get a return on my investment. And tell Josie to hurry the damn up with Mend. Beast, the longer he’s there, the more trouble he’ll get in.” And with that, Rochelle knocked three times on the door beside her. It opened and the light outside blinded Roe again. “That dumb boy can turn an ant hill into a volcano.” She then stood and made for the exit.
“Wait, Lady Davenance.” She stopped, looking back over her shoulder.
“Were there two people looking for me, a man and a woman, older people, one with a cane, maybe, and clips in her hair? Scars on their necks—”
“Scars on their necks?”
“Yes! Did you—”
“No,” she said quickly with her gaze softening to the floor. She sighed, shaking her head. “Your tracks are clean, girl. Eat, refresh yourself up in the bathroom, and get the hell out my place.” She then slammed the door closed.
***
Unable to sleep, Ed decided to hike up to the Seer’s Mound, overlooking the sprawling city. Chilly wind tugged at his sweaty forehead and wrestled with his hair as he sat upon the rocky edge, his legs hanging over the outcrop, and gazed upward. This time of night, sometime after the midnight rotation and the predawn hours, the city was at its darkest, and high above, the stars shinned their brightest. Many of the more spiritually-inclined saw omens and prophecies in those pinpoints and smudges of light from the mundane to the world-changing. But out in the mountains where Ed grew up, life was too hard for such luxuries. Sure, there were rites, prayers, and community-worship gatherings in honor of the Golden Lady —especially when a priest or two happened to stumble into his village, a very rare occurrence— and his parents were very strict on their bi-annual pilgrims to the Holy City Solemnity Festivals —more for the family business than worship, Ed had always thought— but here, where everything had to have a more immediate practical purpose, reading the sky meant forecasting seasons and weather. Religion, spirituality. They were all fine and good to Ed, if the day’s work was done first so that food was on the table and a safe bed secured. But even when he was younger, he saw change coming. Promises of gold, runic, and precious metals along with the search for an easy route through the mountains to the Demos made these mountain lands more populous; life became more
complicated than survival. Glen’s ‘civilization’ won the day over common folk. Otherwise, Ed might have kept selling his strength for hire, working the fields, lumber, and hunting, survival work where he didn’t have to rein in his strength Ed knew it would have been an easier life.
But that’s what Landrie’s forces provided him: a purpose for his strength, and more importantly, the discipline in using it. He and Glen had joined before the kingdom shattered, before that assassin’s poisoned arrow struck Queen Zana and plunged the kingdom into chaos. Ed still remembered that year well. He had just been made Captain with the authority to assign Glen a permanent position with him as his official Chronicler. Sera had been visiting less and less from her studies on the Golden Island, each time speaking more…enigmatically, until the Queen’s death. Then, she never visited again. At the time, Ed thought the escalating rivalry between the princes kept her away, but by the end of that year, he knew exactly why. Prince Siga Ladress had broken from the Ladress Kingdom and closed his borders on the continent and isolating himself on his Golden Island. Sera remained there too.
How long had Sig planned on murdering his mother? How long had he planned to carve up the Sea Roar to spill more blood. “Sera, did you sell your loyalty and betray your people for a chance to dissect a god?” Nothing written in the stars about that.
And he might have to wait longer for an answer, now that in a few days, a week at most, Niklas would come to relieve him. How long before he’s given a command again? Nothing in the stars about that either.
“Gene,” he whispered, wishing he could talk to her. She brought a level of perspective that he had admired. Admired, because it gave his work, his life a wider focus. Ed knew he tended to fixate on the obvious, get lost in the particulars, and mold the world around his solution. Isn’t that what happened with Araa? Him being too focused on his own discomfort? What would that fighting priest say? Trust in the Almighty, probably. Useless words.
For all of Glen’s jeering of her, Ed felt a part of Glen wanted to believe in the Shards, that the Almighty died to save this world and left behind his seven vassals. But what kind of gods destroy a city when they awakened? Or killed someone when they approached? Gene would probably have an answer. The cynicism in him provided a very different answer.
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 49