The Dragon and Rose

by Gerhard Gehrke

  This was met with a chorus of agreement.

  Digger gestured to Isabel. “Let’s start with the nymph’s story first. She’s the one who plied her spells and dropped more than her share of contestants. How did you do it? And did the queen let you keep your magic wand?”

  Isabel licked her lips, her eyes darting between Digger and Marcus. Then she nodded. “It was like magic. We were outnumbered, only had a few weapons, and then the game master let the challengers into the bedchamber. While our champion got to fight with armor, all I had to wear was that heavy dress which showed too much and wouldn’t protect me from a dull letter opener.”

  While she had everyone’s attention, Digger rushed Marcus.

  Marcus raised a warning finger and shook his head. Gestured towards the kitchen. Made a slicing motion with his thumb across his throat.

  Digger froze.

  He understood in that moment that Marcus had his brother. There was no way to know if Marcus was alone or if he had others with him.

  “Let’s get our guests something worthy of their palates,” Digger said.

  “Agreed, brother,” Marcus said. “Why don’t we do just that? Follow me to the kitchen where we can talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THEY ALMOST COLLIDED with each other as they walked through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  Once out of sight of the bar, Digger feigned a stumble and plowed a fist into Marcus’s gut. He was wearing a leather tunic that absorbed some of the blow, but Marcus grunted from the impact. Digger followed the blow with an uppercut meant to take Marcus’s head off, throwing his body into the punch.

  Too slow.

  Marcus caught his arm. Twisted it, catching him in a hold that sent arrows of pain into his shoulder barely healed from his wound suffered in the queen’s games. Marcus slammed him forward and into a prep table, sending ladles and spatulas clattering. Digger tried to clip one of Marcus’s feet with his own, but Marcus proved too quick. Inch by inch, he leveraged Digger down to the floor.

  “Where’s Monty?” Digger gasped.

  “Safe. For now. Tell me, what’s it like to bow and scrape for your existence? You proved you could beat them at their game and then you content yourself working as a slave? And your brother shares a bed with one of them?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is that simple. On the mainland they hunt our kind. We’re not even able to walk the streets in the duke’s counties. But this island has become the true perversion. Here we’re not only slaves but game pieces for their sport.”

  The pressure on Digger’s arm and shoulder kept building. “We aren’t innocent. We hunted our own kind, remember. We both have blood on our hands from serving the duke.”

  “Criminals and bandit gangs are one thing. Clearing them out was ugly but at least it could be understood. But then with his edict, we’ve become pigs for slaughter. You escaped, and I envied you even as I followed our captain’s orders to surrender to the duke. I couldn’t convince him or any of the others to try to join you. They trusted Duke Tito. Said he’d never forget our years of faithful service. But then came the day they built the gallows.”

  Digger tried again to wriggle but the iron grip holding him only put further strain on taut tendons and joints. “I heard.”

  A roar of laughter came from the bar. Isabel’s voice rose above it, telling some tale the tourists were eating up. Whatever noise he and Marcus had made had no doubt been dismissed as a mad rush to whip up some appetizers.

  Marcus’s voice was a growl. “You’re my brother as much as Monty. We ate, slept, and fought together. I know what kind of prickly pears give you the trots. Join me. Help me.”

  “In doing what?”

  “How can you even ask that? Why isn’t it obvious to you? When I heard about the catacomb games and that one of us actually beat it, I came here. When I discovered it was you, I dared feel hope. But then to discover you content to be nothing more than a city slave? I was sick. Please tell me you still have the heart of a ranger beating inside of you.”

  Among the utensils on the floor was a knife. Monty was normally meticulous with his cutlery. Kept them clean. Kept them sharp.

  Digger grabbed it with his free hand and brought it down on Marcus’s boot, the blade plunging into the foot. The former ranger grunted and the hands gripping Digger relaxed, allowing him to slip free. He scrambled away on his arms and knees. Pinpricks of pain ran down his arm.

  Marcus pulled the knife from his foot and flung it aside. From his sleeve he produced a metal bar. His jaw set as he headed for Digger. Digger kicked the prep table into Marcus’s path. Marcus shoved it out of the way.

  Then the sheriff appeared at the door.

  Digger struggled to stand. “Look out!”

  Marcus turned and sprang at the sheriff, knocking him into the doorframe and shoving the bar against his throat. The sheriff grasped feebly at Marcus’s hands. Digger grabbed for the nearest weapon and settled for an iron pan. He headed for Marcus.

  “You’d side with them?” Marcus asked. “Look at the face of one of your masters.”

  With the slightest pressure, the sheriff’s neck would snap. Already the man’s face was turning red as he gasped.

  Digger stopped short. “Let him go.”

  “He’s a cop, isn’t he? One who would arrest you and me and anyone else he might suspect of any number of crimes.”

  “It’s not that simple here. Don’t kill him.”

  “And why not? Is he a kind master? A lesser evil who affords you a few courtesies? You think it’s possible to weed out the bad and be left with purebloods who will treat with us? Perhaps you believe the queen is somehow better than Duke Tito. You believe your livelihood here is worth preserving.”

  “All I know is ending his life will make it worse. And if you do that, I’m going to kill you.”

  “We were both trained together. Didn’t we learn that you never parlay with the enemy when you don’t have anything to offer? It’s impossible to hide desperation. I have your brother and you won’t risk what will happen if you don’t back off.”

  “So what are you going to do? Wage a one-man war against every pureblood on the island?”

  “I was hoping for an ally. Seeing you beg for this man’s life hurts my soul. Does every fel here have a broken spirit?”

  The laughter in the common room was replaced with the voices of the guards. Someone was coming. The kitchen door pushed in but Marcus kicked it. Whoever was on the other side crashed backward and groaned. For a brief moment, Marcus was distracted.

  Digger threw the pan. It was a clumsy throw, the object oblong and heavy. But it struck Marcus and he faltered from the impact. The sheriff managed to push the metal bar off his throat. When he tried to grab Marcus, Marcus backhanded him and knocked him down.

  Marcus gave Digger a final reproachful glare before bursting through the swinging door.

  Digger charged after him. “Wait! Where’s Monty?”

  A pair of guards had come in through the back entrance. Marcus plowed into them, knocking one to the floor. He punched the other, kneed him, but a third watchman emerged from the back room with his sword drawn.

  Marcus was trapped.

  Some of the tourists were rising from their tables and pulling out their weapons. The bearded man cleared his rapier but Digger grabbed it and tossed it aside.

  “No one else needs to get hurt. Marcus!”

  But Marcus barely paused to survey the room before moving. He leapt for the ladder and clambered up into the loft above the common room. Digger made it to the ladder and started climbing, but Marcus threw a chair down. Before Digger could try again for the ladder, Marcus pushed at a board covering the hole in the ceiling. The nails were holding the makeshift piece of roof down shrieked as the panel was pushed free. Then he vanished through the hole.

  Two watchmen seized Digger. One began pummeling him even as Digger knocked the other aside. But when a third guard tackled him, it
proved to be too much. He was wrestled to the ground. Digger kept jerking against the arms holding him. But the room was turning as the dizziness reasserted itself. He was having a hard time telling which way was up.

  Isabel was shouting at him and motioning for him to stop.

  He then realized more guards had arrived. He was surrounded. But the newcomers weren’t wearing the tunics of the city watch, but rather the orange-yellow of the castle soldiers. And standing behind them near the door was the queen of Loom Island.

  The eager tourist hooted and clapped his hands. “Great show! Do you guys do this every night?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  THE QUEEN STRODE IN and made a quick inspection of the bar. “And what games have we interrupted here?”

  Her guards formed a circle around her. With her stood her nephew Jamie, the man-boy whom Isabel claimed to love. The last time Digger had seen him was in the catacomb games. Digger had knocked him out.

  Digger couldn’t get the men holding him to let go. When one struck him across the back of the head with something heavy he almost passed out. He struggled to keep his head up even as his vision blurred.

  “That’s enough,” the queen said. “Get him up.”

  Digger was brought to his feet but the watchmen kept a firm grip on him. All he could think about was where Marcus had fled and what he had done with his brother.

  Isabel approached the queen. One of the guards pointed a sword at her.

  “Leave her alone, silly. This one is known to us.”

  Once the guard dropped the point of his sword, Isabel curtseyed. “Lady Claudia, we welcome you, but it isn’t safe here right now.”

  “Not a safe place? I have my soldiers who will protect me. And what makes your little dive so much worse than any of the other places on the waterfront? Why, I remember when the Temperance District was where a woman could go to get the best wine and food. Where the entertainment would always be. And it appears you were all having a grand time.”

  One of her men was helping the sheriff out of the kitchen. He was placed in a chair, where he sat erect with his eyes closed. His face was bleeding.

  Claudia handed him a frilly handkerchief. “It seems there’s more going on here than an after-hours carousing. Here I was expecting to find my missing champion and have a conversation, but I’m shocked to see he’s once again involved in a breach of the island’s laws.”

  “He was helping me,” the sheriff said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Digger was helping me. Perhaps my lady has heard the reports about the murders. My investigation led me here. The suspect just escaped. We have to go after him.”

  “In a moment. You’ve been injured.”

  “There’s no time to waste.”

  Claudia sighed. “My sweet sheriff, you’ve suffered a blow, so I will allow your bold tone. But I didn’t come here to do the city watch’s job. I see they’ve once again called on you for assistance.”

  “Which I offer gladly.”

  She waved his comment aside. “Then to your task, once you recover. My business is with my champion.”

  Her guards pushed aside the watchmen around him. Digger fought to clear the fog from his head. Getting arrested now would be a disaster.

  “Why?” Digger asked.

  “You know, my mother once told me that if I kept my face and brow knitted like yours, it would stay that way. It appears you’ve also suffered injuries.”

  “Never mind that. The sheriff’s right. There’s someone in the city who’s killed five people. I can catch him.”

  “And perhaps you shall. But don’t underestimate our esteemed city watch. With the sheriff lending a hand, I have faith they’ll apprehend this fiend. But I was hoping you and I could talk. Seeing how you’re intent on not listening, I’ll have to wait until you’ve cooled down a bit. Bring him.”

  The guards began moving Digger towards the door. The queen and her nephew stepped aside. Jamie wore a scowl, his eyes fixed on Isabel. Through it all, the tourists sat in rapt attention as if the whole affair was part of a show.

  The sheriff rose and shoved a castle soldier aside. “My lady, on what grounds?”

  The queen appeared shocked. “Excuse me?”

  “None of the men here are leveling charges against Digger. You can’t arrest him.”

  “You don’t tell me who I can and can’t arrest on my island. And don’t go quoting my own statutes. He assaulted guards of the watch.”

  “A misunderstanding. We’re trying to stop a murderer.”

  “And I need him to return to my games. Seeing as how I’m behind in my catacomb preparations, I have something in mind for him. With his help, I’ll remind this island why it turns to me for its distractions. It seems there’s an upstart company who’s siphoning off my revenue stream. Perhaps you should be investigating them.”

  “You’re talking about entertainment. What about the safety of your subjects?”

  “Oh, dear sheriff. You’ve been a guest here for months now, haven’t you? And still you fail to understand this place. I’m afraid there’s no helping you if you choose to remain so obtuse. Who’s the ranking city watchman here?”

  A guard with collar-length gray hair stepped forward and bowed his head. “That would be me, my lady. Corporal Dario.”

  “Ah. Well, consider this your promotion, Corporal. See to it the sheriff is cared for, but then pass on to your lieutenant that he’s to be expelled from Loom Island.”

  “You can’t do this,” the sheriff said. “I’m here on orders of Duke Tito. My investigation in the magister’s murder is not to be interfered—”

  She cut him off. “We’ve established you have no formal powers in my city. And your stay as a guest is proving burdensome. My brother the duke will understand. To your task, Corporal Dario.”

  The corporal beckoned two of the watchmen over. They began to march the sheriff towards the door.

  The queen maintained a pleasant smile as she watched them leave. Then she took Jamie by the hand and led him to Isabel.

  “It seems you two lovebirds have been apart for quite some time. Isabel, dear, why don’t you join us up at the castle?”

  Isabel and Jamie embraced. Their eyes searched each other’s.

  Jamie had tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sprite. I tried.”

  “You should have stayed home instead of coming here and risking your life like a fool.”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  “I know. You make me so mad sometimes.”

  But her words held no venom.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the queen asked. Digger realized she was talking to him. “Young love. Hearts intertwined where nothing can pull them apart.”

  Isabel gave Jamie a final kiss before facing the queen. “I’ll help you in any way that I can. But free Digger. This murderer who fled from here has his brother.”

  “You mean the chef? I’m just realizing how intertwined you all are. Simply brilliant. Another catacomb survivor involved with such sordid events. I’ll consider your request. But for now we shall all go back to the castle.”

  The corporal began to shepherd the tourists out the back door. “All right, you lot. Get going. Show’s over. Stick to the waterfront if you want to stay out of trouble.”

  Digger managed not to wobble. The vertigo was easing but not enough to try to break free. The guards on either side of him still had their hands on his arms.

  Unless he did something, Marcus was going to kill Monty. He was certain of it.

  One of the guards escorting him let go of an arm to keep the bar’s front door from closing.

  His only chance.

  He drove his elbow into the guard’s face. The man fell back, stunned. Digger yanked the second guard off-balance and drove the heel of his hand up into the man’s jaw. Something cracked and teeth went flying. The other guards reacted instantly, moving the queen away while drawing their swords.

  An armed soldier stood just outside.
Digger let the door shut and vaulted over the bar. With so many guards, he needed to change the odds. He threw open the trapdoor.

  “Mudo! Tonto! Rise and shine!”

  But as he peered down into the dark cellar, he saw the trolls were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  HELLARD WAS IMPRESSED with the quality of the cage holding him. Why a theater in the run-down section of the city had such an impressive cell was beyond him, but he had given up trying to make sense of the place.

  He tested the movement of his arms. The joints popped but the pain was manageable. He examined his wounds as best he could. Nothing fatal. He could move and fight. But seeing as there was no way out, he decided to make the best of his situation.

  He needed sleep.

  He’d curled up on rocks rougher and more jagged than the cool floor of his cell. Lying back, he drifted away in relative comfort.

  A SCRATCHING SOUND woke him up. Daylight was shining through the crack of the door beyond the cell. He kept his eyes mostly shut as he watched the outside door beyond the bars shake a few times before opening.

  Vinca peered inside. When the young girl spotted Hellard, she entered and shut the door behind her. She tested the cell door but it didn’t budge.

  He sat up. “Hello, little bug.”

  “The door’s stuck.”

  “You don’t happen to have stolen a key or know how to pick locks, do you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then you should probably get out of here. It’s dangerous.”

  “Everyone is sleeping. I could try and find a key.”

  “How many out there?”

  “More than twelve.” She fumbled with a purse and produced a dagger as long as her arm. “I took this from one of them.”

  He showed his massive hands. “Not the right tool for me. I’m better with heavy things or my fists.”

  She screwed up her face in obvious disappointment.

  “But thanks for trying. Now I’m serious. You can’t be seen here. Those are bad men outside who will hurt you.”