Restriction

by CM Raymond

  Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the giant door leading into the decrepit tower and convinced herself that she was close enough to the magician’s fortress.

  The little crunching of feet on the forest floor was easily heard as Sal came scampering across from the building and jumped into her arms. She absentmindedly rubbed his scaly body as her eyes scanned the woods.

  He wriggled around as she ran a fingernail down his back, outlining the base of each of the peculiar spikes. He then crawled up onto her shoulder, “Ouch!” She tried to move around as his little claws bit into her shoulder. “I’m not your pincushion.” He settled down, his tail draped down her back.

  Hannah let the pain recede into the background as she considered just how much her life had changed in a few short hours. If it weren’t for the Hunters in the square, or even for William’s seizures, there was a chance that none of this may have happened.

  Life had dealt her a shit hand, and it seemed that she had finally drawn a lucky card.

  Now, the question lingered in her thoughts: Would the luck remain?

  The answer to her question came sooner than she expected. As she stepped further into the trees, a series of grunts echoed around the woods, and she heard what sounded like city goats pawing around in the dusty square of the market.

  Looking up from the pine-needle-covered earth, her eyes fastened on a creature that looked like one of the pigs the farmers brought to Arcadia for slaughter.

  “Oh… this is bad,” she whispered, eyes flitting left and right before locking on the pig.

  Only this pig was twice as big and had tusks jutting from its jaw. Thick black hair ran down its back. The animal continued to kick and snort and roll its massive head as it stared at her, saliva dripped from its tusks.

  While Hannah gawked at the creature, she backed up slowly, until she stood still with her back planted against the tree, Sal moving his tail so it wasn’t squished.

  “It’s OK, boy, girl, whatever you are,” she said in the most soothing voice she could muster, but her words did nothing to calm the beast. Hannah’s eyes cut to the tower’s door, and she wondered how fast the animal was.

  From the looks of the tusks, she assumed the thing could deliver significant damage. She tested a step in the direction of safety and its grunting increased to a frenzy. And then, without warning, the oversized war pig jumped towards her and ran head down in her direction.

  A lifetime of instincts honed by the dangers of the Boulevard pushed Hannah to action. She turned and sprinted back toward safety.

  Sal’s claws tightened on her shoulder.

  Branches whipped across her face and arms, but she ignored the pain. She could hear the pig closing in on her. The tower was just ahead, but she was afraid she wouldn’t make it. She turned to see how much time she had, but as she did, a root caught her foot and sent her sprawling on the ground.

  She landed hard but quickly rolled so she could see behind her. The large beast seemed nearly on top of her, its tusks like two spears. Hannah raised her arms in defense, a pitiful attempt to block the creature’s charge.

  She refused to give up, but she knew in her heart that death was upon her.

  Her eyes caught movement from her left streaking through the air and striking the beast in the head. The animal dropped rolling to a stop just a few feet in front of her, its skull crushed beyond recognition.

  The projectile, a giant metal hammer with a spike on the handle’s end, lay bloodied on the ground to her right.

  As Hannah stared wide-eyed at the weapon, she heard a branch snap behind her shoulder.

  “What da hell is a little lass a doing out in da forest by her lonesome?” a gruff voice with a rearick dialect asked.

  A man with a thick beard and long hair falling over his leather armor approached and passed by the pig to pick up his hammer. He grunted as he took in the pig before he turned to Hannah.

  He was half as wide as he was tall, and his face held no hint of what might be considered kindness as he eyed her up and down.

  He didn’t seem impressed.

  Hannah stammered at her savior. “I…”

  “It ain’t safe out here, as ya now know. And who da hell are ya? And what’s dat?” he asked, pointing to Sal with the balled head of his hammer.

  The strange feeling of power under her skin enveloped her, and Hannah breathed deeply to stifle it. “That is my pet. And I’m not sure if anyone of your stature should be calling anyone else ‘little,’ sir.” She cracked half a smile and raised an eyebrow at the rearick who would be a few inches shorter than her.

  Without warning, the man pulled a knife from his belt. Hannah jumped backward on the ground, thinking the man was a little monster, saving her from the war pig only for his own vicious pleasure.

  But before she could react, the rearick flipped the knife over and extended it toward her. The blade was made of silver, and its hilt was ornately crafted.

  He spoke while she stood up, knocking the worst of the dirt and needles off her.

  “Ye might not be very smart, but ye sure got some balls, and I like dat. And sassy, too. This is for the next time ya decide to do something as stupid as ye did this day.” He jerked the blade a couple of times in the direction of the pig.

  Hannah accepted the blade and turned it over and over in her hand, eyeing the craftsmanship. To her trained eyes, this knife had some value.

  Holding out a beefy hand, the man said, “Da name’s Karl.”

  Hannah took his hand. Suspicious or not he had just saved her from a proper goring. “Hannah,” she replied with a smile. Looking down at the beast and back at the knife that she wiggled she commented, “I really don’t know what to do with this.”

  Karl shrugged and pointed to the pigs head, “With an animal like dat, always aim for da throat. Works with a man, too, but a wee bit harder to land it.” He winked in fun.

  Her eyes looked back toward the path he had approached from before asking. “Do you live around here?”

  “Around here? Bah. No.” He stretched his arms, “I’m from the heights. But I can make a lot more scratch escorting farmers and traders through these woods to Arcadia. Just dropped a group off, and I’m picking dem up again tomorrow.”

  Though he didn’t say it, Hannah could ascertain from his armor and weapon and the description of his work that he was a mercenary.

  Most rearick made their living from the mines, but Hannah knew that even the young among them had a reputation as fierce warriors. If Karl was someone that the rearick themselves paid to fight for them, then he must be quite the fighter indeed. Her suspicions were aroused again.

  “Oh. Then what are you doing around here?”

  “Have you ever been to Arcadia, lassie?” he asked.

  Hannah laughed. “This is my first time out of Arcadia. Been there all of my life.”

  “Figures. That explains your performance with this boar here. But if you’re from da city, then ya know dat Arcadia is no damn place for a man who loves da shade of trees and da feel of da wind in his beard. Gets so damned claustrophobic in there, I can hardly make it through da gate before I need to get my ass back out of there.”

  “I didn’t know that rearick could get claustrophobic?”

  The man tilted his head. “Under the ground’s different. I trust da earth. People? Not so much. Now, let me escort ye back to your palace, my lady.”

  Hannah flushed a little and tucked the knife in her leather belt that held her cloak in place. “What about that?” she asked, nodding at the boar.

  “Dat’s dinner. If you care to join me.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

  He laughed. “Nope, not gross, good. Damn good meat and she’s a fat one. A little heat and a lot of salt, and I’ll sleep with a full belly.”

  They walked the many steps of the tower.

  She would have been caught by the big pig, boar, whatever for sure.

  The man stopped at the base. “Want to come in?” Han
nah asked, pointing inside. “I could introduce you to my friend if he’s up.”

  Karl’s eyes scanned the tower from top to bottom. “Not in there. No dank you.”

  “More claustrophobia,” she asked with a grin.

  “Sure, kid. Something like dat.” Karl nodded then took a couple steps backward. “Pleasure to meet ya, lass.” He pointed at her hand, “Now do me a favor and keep da knife close and stop being so damned stupid in these woods.” His words were gruff, but Hannah could sense a warmth beneath his granite exterior.

  Hannah watched the man sling the giant hammer over his shoulder and disappear back into the woods before she retreated into the safety of the tower with Sal on her heels.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Come on, one more time, sir? Want to give a boy from Queen Bitch Boulevard a chance to win his money back?”

  “Sure. Once more,” the middle-aged man said as he counted the coins in his palm. His fine clothes and trimmed hair indicated he must have been a noble who had wandered out of his quarter. “But, I’ll tell you, son, if I win, I’m keeping the coins. Only way you boys will learn.”

  Parker placed his hands in front of his chest, palms together, and bowed. “I am always willing to take a lesson from an elder. Especially one who is both wise and refined.” He turned to the crowd that had gathered at the corner of the market square. “What do you think, folks? Should I try it again? He’s good, but I only have a handful of coins left.”

  The onlookers hooted and hollered, pressing Parker on.

  “OK, I don’t want to let the good people down. But I can only do ten this time. My dear Ma still needs her medicine.” Parker titled an imaginary glass of mead and tilted it back, pretending to drink.

  The crowd roared.

  “Here we go, then. Three shells, one ball. As everyone can see, the ball is here, under this one.” Parker tilted back the middle shell, showing a tiny green pea. “Now, sir. Last chance and I need the money, so I’m going to make this one a little tougher. Ready?”

  The man kept his eyes on the shells and nodded.

  Parkers hands moved fast, his mouth even faster. “Keep your eyes on the shell as they go around. Where’s the pea? That’s the plea. Where's the pea? Can you tell me?”

  He went on for another thirty seconds before pulling his hands back from the shells. “How do you feel?”

  Sweat glistened on the man’s forehead. “Good. I got this.” His finger hovered over the shells as it finally settled on the one furthest to his right. “This one.”

  “You sure about that?” Parker asked. “Really sure?”

  “Yes. This one. I’m positive.”

  “Last chance.”

  The electricity in the crowd was thick. Everyone leaned in waiting for the reveal. Parker closed his eyes and let his head dip. Flipping the shell, he said, “Well, they say the nobles are smart, kind, and good looking. At least you’re one out of three.”

  The green pea sat under the shell.

  Scooping up his winnings, the nobleman said, “Get an honest job, kid. Sweeping the gutters is a sure thing, and you’re not very good with those shells.”

  As the man cut out of sight, Parker looked back at the gathering. “Well, I guess my ma will go to bed sober tonight. Might as well give it another shot. Who’s feeling smart or at least lucky?”

  The crowd shifted as a man stepped forward, landing twenty coins on Parker’s crate. “I’m in for twenty.”

  “Sorry, sir. After the noble, I need to be cautious. Are you a farmer or something with all of that coin?”

  The man shook his head. “Trapper, and I just dropped off a cartload of furs.”

  “Ah, and you want to go home with even more. Alright, let’s give it a go.”

  Parker shifted the coins to the side of the crate and started the routine again. His hands flew, as did his mouth. Finally, he came to rest. The man inspected each of the shells. After a moment, he pointed. “This one.”

  “Ah, close.” Parker flipped over a different shell showing the tiny pea. He swiped the man’s coins and stuffed them into his bag. He asked, “Try again?”

  “Nah. That’s all. The wife said no gambling.”

  “Perfect,” Parker cried. “This is a game of skill.” Sliding the pea under the middle shell, he flipped the empty ones over. “You saw it, right? Here, look again.” He tilted the shell back up. “Three moves on this one. No need to put money on it if you’re not sure.”

  Parker slowly slid the shells around, shifting each of them one space. “Last chance for a bet. I’ll let you win it back.”

  The man rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “How about I win it back and more?”

  Parker shrugged. “Guess I’ll give it a chance. Forty coins?”

  The man laughed and pointed. “Stupid kid. It’s here.”

  Parker grinned and flipped the shell. It was empty. “Sorry, mate. Thanks for playing, though.”

  The crowd cheered while he grabbed the coins.

  “You little cheat,” the trapper yelled.

  “Sir, I resent your comment. I am an honest—” Without finishing, Parker kicked the crate into the man’s legs and shot through the thick crowd. He had to circle the whole quarter before he knew he was safe.

  Collapsing on a bench on the edge of Queen Bitch Boulevard, Parker counted his coins and caught his breath. The shell game was always a risky con. It only ever lasted so long before it was broken up by an angry tourist or the Governor’s guard, but he made enough for the day.

  “You want to try again?”

  The nobleman stood over him.

  “Pretty far away from your quarter now, aren’t you sir?”

  Glancing down Queen Bitch Boulevard, the man smiled. “Dunno, looks quainter than I imagined. Maybe I’ll move in.”

  Parker laughed and the man dropped onto the bench next to him. “Can’t wait to get out of this stiff cloak—makes me feel stuffy, like those noble bastards. How’d we do today?”

  “Not bad, Sam. About two-fifty. You did pretty good—almost believable as a man from the Capitol.” Parker dropped half the earnings into the man’s hand. While Parker knew he deserved more of the take, he split it evenly with the man because that’s what he always did with Hannah. And most hustles needed a partner. “It was a good day.”

  The man nodded, grabbed his share, and headed toward Queen’s Boulevard. He stopped and turned. “I know it’s usually you and Hannah running the cons, but if you need me, I’m happy for the work.”

  “Sure thing, Sam. We’ll have to change it up tomorrow, but I might need you again.”

  Parker hid half the coins in his shoes and made his way into the Boulevard. Stopping at the toll, he paid the cut to Jack who would hand it over to Horace, the scumbag manager of their quarter. As if life wasn’t hard enough in Queen’s Boulevard, it felt harder every time he handed over hard earned cash to the “civil servant.”

  Halfway down the boulevard, he heard a hushed voice call his name. His face lightened when he saw it was William.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  “William?” Parker looked around quickly before returning to her brother and hissing back, “Where the hell is Hannah?”