The Shadow's Heir

by K J Taylor

  Someone else had appeared in the alley entrance. “What, ain’t ye gonna give me a go, too?” they asked.

  Aled spat. “Sod off.”

  The stranger came closer. “Selfish, ain’t ye? C’mon, give me a piece of the action why don’t ye?”

  Aled’s friend pointed his knife at him. “Get lost, or I’ll stick this in yer gut.”

  The stranger sighed and leant forward, until they were almost face-to-face. Laela heard him say something—she didn’t know what. Whatever it was, it had a terrible effect on Aled’s friend. The man jerked away from the stranger, paused a moment, and then ran.

  That left Aled and the stranger.

  “Found yerself a nice prize, haven’t yer?” the stranger said, in conversational tones. “Got any t’spare?”

  “Clear off,” said Aled, though he was beginning to sound uncertain. He pulled his hand out of Laela’s dress and pressed the knife against her throat again. “Go on, get out, or—”

  “Ye’ll do what?” said the stranger. “Ye want to be a murderer, too, do ye? Wanna know what that feels like?”

  Aled realised his game was up. He abruptly removed the knife from Laela’s throat and thrust her toward the stranger before turning on his heels and running away.

  Laela collided with the stranger and fought to get away from him as he grabbed at her, trying to hold her still. He caught her by the wrist, and held on. His grip was cold, and horribly strong.

  “Let go!” Laela almost screamed at him, half-mad with fear. “Let go!”

  The stranger looked past her, to where Aled had disappeared. “Coward,” he muttered.

  Laela tried to hit him in the face. He avoided the blow easily and pinned her arms to her sides. “Calm down,” he said. “Calm down.”

  She stilled, panting. The stranger was . . . she couldn’t tell who he was. He wore a hood that hid his face in shadows, and his clothes were all-concealing. He was even wearing gloves. He smelled of cold.

  “Let me go,” Laela said again. She started to shake. “Please, just let me go.”

  “Keep calm,” the stranger advised. “I ain’t gonna hurt yer, see? I just wanted . . . want t’know if ye’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” said Laela. “Let me go.”

  He did. “I didn’t mean none of what I said; that was just cover. Are ye all right? Tell me for true.”

  Laela backed away from him and tried to pick up her belongings, but her hands were suddenly clumsy, and they slipped through her fingers. She felt tears prickling at her eyes.

  The stranger came toward her. “I can help . . .”

  “No . . .” Laela tried to pull away from him, but in that moment the last of her strength slipped away, and she started to sob.

  The stranger seemed to understand. He bent and gathered up her possessions, wrapping them neatly and efficiently back up in their blanket. “It’s all right,” he told her. “Ye’re safe, see? Safe. What’s yer name?”

  Laela managed to pick up the sword. “L . . . I’m . . . I’m . . . Laela. Laela R . . .” But she broke out in a fresh wave of sobbing before she could finish.

  “Here,” said the stranger, offering her his hand. “Let me help yer. Can ye tell me where ye live?”

  “Not . . . not here,” said Laela. “I ain’t . . . ain’t from here.”

  “Are ye with anyone?”

  “No. I’m alone.”

  “I see.” The stranger straightened up and looked from one end of the alley to the other, apparently checking if the coast was clear. “Well, I’m on my way somewhere . . . If ye want t’come with me I can get ye some food an’ a warm place t’rest a while.”

  Laela was too weak by now to argue, and she clung to her rescuer as if he were her only friend in the world. “Yeah. Yeah. I’d . . . yeah.”

  4

  Wolf

  The stranger led her out of the alley and away through the darkened streets. He moved like one who knew the city very well, but he kept to the shadows and the side streets, as if he were trying to hide. Laela followed him, keeping quiet and pathetically hoping that he would protect her as he had claimed he would.

  Eventually, he came to a halt outside a modest-looking building. “Here we are. The sign of the Blue Moon. They know me here.”

  A tavern, Laela realised. She followed him inside more than gladly.

  There weren’t very many people within, and they showed only passing interest in the stranger—and given his shrouded face and body, Laela took it to mean that they did indeed know him. That reassured her a little.

  He walked silently up to the bar and spoke softly to the man on the other side. As Laela came to join him, he turned to her, and said, “I’ve gotten us a room. Come on.”

  He took her up a flight of stairs and into a smallish space with a bed and a fireplace. There was a chair in front of it, and he gestured at her to sit in it.

  Laela all but collapsed into the chair and stayed there for some time, soaking up the warmth from the fire. The stranger took another chair opposite her and waited in silence while a woman came in with bread, cheese, and a mug.

  Laela ate ravenously and drank from the mug, which turned out to be full of beer.

  The stranger ate nothing. His face, under the hood, was half-covered by a cloth that concealed everything except his black eyes. But he seemed peaceful enough, sitting there and just watching her.

  Laela put down her mug. “Thanks,” she said. “Yeh saved my life back there, yeh know . . . more’n that.”

  The stranger stirred. “Look at me.”

  Laela had forgotten not to make eye contact. “It’s . . .”

  He examined her face. “Look at them eyes. Ye’re a half-breed, ain’t ye?”

  Laela wanted to hit him. “Yeah.”

  “I see, then. Can I ask what ye were doin’ wanderin’ around the streets in the middle of the night?”

  “I travelled here,” said Laela. “I’m lookin’ for a new home.”

  “Yer accent ain’t Northern,” he observed. “Where are ye from?”

  “Nowhere,” said Laela. “Village in the South. Sturrick.”

  “Never heard of it. How did ye get here, then? They shouldn’t’ve let ye through Guard’s Post.”

  “Bribed the guards,” said Laela. A half-truth was easier.

  The stranger chuckled. “Clever girl. Why did ye want t’come here, though?”

  Laela’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I tell yeh? I don’t even know who yeh are. Why’s yer face covered up like that?”

  “Call me Wolf,” the stranger said briefly. “I’m someone who’s got a good reason not t’let anyone see his face.”

  “Why?” said Laela.

  He pushed the mug of beer toward her. “Tell me why yer came here, an’ I’ll tell ye that.”

  “Deal,” said Laela. “I came here ’cause . . .” She paused. “’Cause who in the North is gonna call me a blackrobe or a darkwoman? Nobody so far. I blend in here, right? So long as no-one notices the eyes, I can pretend t’be a Northerner. Me dad died. I din’t have nowhere else t’go.”

  “I see,” said Wolf. “Not many people like the King, but he gave a home to outcasts, an’ there’s not many can say they’ve done the same. I’m sure he’d be flattered t’hear ye thought enough of his land t’come this far.”

  Laela shrugged. “Who are yeh, then, Wolf? Why are yeh hidin’ like that?”

  “Because I just escaped from prison,” he said casually. “Don’t want anyone recognisin’ me; they’d drag me straight back an’ make sure I never got out again.”

  Laela stared at him. “Prison? Why? What did yeh do?”

  “Enough for ten death sentences,” he said, still calm.

  “Aren’t the guards after yeh?” said Laela, with the horrible thought that if they were tracking him, they might find her, too, and who knew what they’d do to her?

  “No,” said Wolf. “They don’t know I’ve escaped yet.”

  “Are yeh sure?”

  �
��Why, d’ye doubt me?”

  “I just met yeh,” Laela pointed out. “How would I know anythin’?”

  He chuckled. “True. Well, don’t worry; we’re safe. Nobody messes with me if they know what’s good for ’em. Anyway . . . so what are ye going t’do now, Laela?”

  “I dunno,” she mumbled. “Them bastards took all my money. I was gonna try an’ find a job . . .”

  “Got any skills?”

  “Not really. I can cook an’ clean, an’ I know how t’sew.”

  “Hm,” said Wolf. “I dunno, Laela. Maybe ye can pass as a Northerner at first, but as soon as anyone looks closely at yer, they’re gonna notice them beautiful blue eyes.”

  “But they wouldn’t care, would they?” said Laela. “I’m only—”

  “Only a Southerner,” he said flatly.

  “But I never did nothin’ wrong!” she almost wailed.

  “No, an’ nor did most of the Southerners the King’s rebels killed here all them years ago. Ye’re young, Laela. Ye don’t understand what that war meant. Us Northerners had been ground into the dirt by the sun worshippers for centuries. Half the people in this city have collar scars an’ memories full of pain an’ hard labour in mines an’ building sites. That ain’t somethin’ ye forget in a hurry. An’ when they see a blue-eyed Southerner, that’s what they think of. An’ ye . . . well.” He sounded rather sad.

  “I know,” said Laela. “I know. I ain’t just a Southerner. When yeh see me, yeh know one of yer own people bedded a Southerner. Betrayal.” She had thought it many times.

  Wolf nodded. “It’s the mixing of North an’ South. Southerners’d see a dirty barbarian, Northerners’d see an arrogant tyrant. Madness, ain’t it?”

  “Madness!” Laela almost shouted. “What am I supposed t’do? Where’m I supposed t’go? Where . . . ?” The hard but unavoidable realisation that he was right, mixed with the deep shock that had yet to fade away, overwhelmed her, and she began to sob again.

  Wolf reached out awkwardly and patted her on the hand. “There, there. Ain’t no sense t’be givin’ up now, is there? Ye’re a brave an’ clever girl, ye are. Ye’ve survived this far; who says ye won’t survive even further, eh?”

  Laela fought to control herself. “But what can I do? Where can I go? I got no money, no home, no family . . . gods, I shouldn’t’ve ever come here at all.”

  Wolf regarded her. “Well,” he said eventually. “I s’pose ye could stay with me for a while, if ye wanted to.”

  Laela looked up, tear-streaked. “What? D’yeh have a home?”

  “Of sorts,” he said. “I’m goin’ back there tonight. If ye want to, ye can come, too.”

  “Would there be room?” said Laela.

  “I reckon so. What d’ye say? I’m sure we could find a few odd jobs for ye t’do around the place.”

  “Where is it?” said Laela. “Is it in the city?”

  “Yeah. Ain’t too far from here.”

  “But what about the guards?” said Laela. “Won’t they know where yeh are?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about them,” Wolf said carelessly. “They’d never find me. I ain’t there t’be found when I don’t want t’be.”

  Laela hesitated. She was still deeply suspicious of this man, whoever he was, even if he had saved her. And yet . . .

  “How do I know I can trust yeh?” she said.

  “Ye don’t,” said Wolf. “But I didn’t have t’help ye, y’know. I was off on my way t’have a good time somewhere, an’ I heard ye screamin’, so I came t’help ye even though I could’ve just minded my own business. Guess I’m just soft-hearted.” He snorted.

  Laela suddenly felt ashamed. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just . . . well, why’d yeh want t’help me anyway? I ain’t anybody.”

  “I’d have helped anyone in that situation,” said Wolf. “An’ how can I just leave ye to fend for yerself? I know this city, Laela. Ye wouldn’t last a day. I ain’t that . . . heartless.”

  He’s only helpin’ me ’cause he knows I can’t look after myself, Laela thought bitterly. But what choice did she have? “I’ll come with yeh, then,” she said.

  He nodded. “Good. Finish eatin’, an’ we’ll go. Ye can tell me more about yerself while ye’re at it, if ye like.”

  She wasn’t thinking of it, but after a while the silence became uncomfortable as he just sat there and watched her eat, so she talked—giving him her story in bits and pieces.

  “Dunno me parents’ names. Mother was a Southerner. Lived in the North. Dad said . . . there was this Northerner. Criminal. Raped my mother. Dad was a guardsman; he chased the bastard an’ saw him die tryin’ t’get away. Then, after I was born, someone murdered her . . . Mum, I mean. So Dad took me away with him out of the North an’ raised me himself. But he died.” She paused to swallow some beer. “Drank himself to death.”

  Wolf sighed. “Yes . . . a lot of Southerners ran away out of the North when the war started. An’ plenty of Northerners got out of control ’round that time. Wouldn’t surprise me t’hear a lot of Southern women were raped like your mother. These things happen.”

  These things happen. That’s all very well for you t’say. “Yeah, I’m sure they do,” Laela muttered, and drained the beer. “So that’s me,” she said. “Parents didn’t love each other, father was a criminal, foster dad died. Buried him myself. After that, I sold our house an’ came North, hopin’ t’find somethin’ better. An’ I found you.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself somethin’ better,” said Wolf. “Better than those two scum, maybe.”

  Laela’s feeling of shame returned. “Yeh did save me. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met yeh, Wolf.”

  There was a smile in his eyes as she said this. She wondered, suddenly, if his mouth was smiling, too, and what it would look like. She wished she could see his face.

  “Are yeh ever gonna take that hood off?” she asked. To her embarrassment, she realised she was blushing.

  “Maybe later,” he said. His voice was a little muffled by the cloth.

  “Right, right,” said Laela, looking away from him and wishing she hadn’t asked.

  Wolf waited politely until she had finished eating. “Are ye ready t’go now?”

  Laela stood up. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Can I have my stuff back?”

  He handed over the blanket roll. “C’mon, then. Stick close t’me, keep silent, do what I do. I ain’t taken anyone this way before.”

  Laela adjusted the sword in her belt. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” He strode over to the window and opened it. Then, to her astonishment, he climbed out of it. She hurried after him and put her head through the window, but she couldn’t see him anywhere on the ground. Where . . . ?

  “Up here.”

  She looked up and saw him perched on the roof. “What the . . . ?”

  “I told ye t’keep quiet,” he said. “Pass yer stuff up t’me, an’ I’ll give ye a hand.”

  Laela pulled herself together and passed up her bundle. He hauled it up and dumped it beside him before offering her his hands. She took hold of them, and he pulled her through the window and up onto the roof though his fingers seemed clumsy.

  Up on the roof, Laela straightened up and surveyed the view. Rooftops spread in every direction, studded with chimneys whose smoke drifted in front of the crescent moon.

  “The Bear’s moon,” Wolf murmured. “Protection. Now, pick up yer stuff, an’ let’s go. Don’t put a foot wrong, or ye’ll fall.”

  Laela slung her bundle on her back. “I’m ready.” She sounded more resolute than she felt.

  Wolf set out. He moved with the balance and certainty of someone who had done this a hundred times, leaping from roof to roof like an alley cat. The gaps were small, but Laela still felt her stomach lurch when she reached the first one. She hesitated, but her companion was already leaving her behind, so she gritted her teeth and jumped.

  She made it. Feeling a little more confident, she sped up. Wolf made
it look easier than it was, but though she stumbled a few times, she managed to keep up one way or another.

  They travelled this way for some time, and eventually Laela was chilled to the bone. Her legs were trembling with fatigue, and she felt as if she hadn’t slept in months.

  Wolf stopped and waited for her to catch up. “We’re ready t’go back down,” he said. “Just follow my lead.”

  Laela nodded mutely and watched him climb down through the next gap, bracing himself against the walls on either side to stop himself from falling. When he reached the ground, he stopped and waved at her to follow.

  Laela sighed grimly and began her own descent.

  It was easier than she had expected, but her nerves kept her from relaxing, and she pushed against the walls so hard that once or twice she stopped herself altogether and had to rest before she could make herself continue. By the time she reached the ground, her mind was blank with exhaustion.

  Wolf patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re almost there. No more climbing from here on.”

  Laela groaned and fell in behind him. They passed through a gate in a wall, and then had to cross a large, open space before they reached a building. Wolf opened a small side-door with a key, and ushered her inside. Once they were in, he closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Now,” he said. “Nothing left but a few stairs.”

  A few!

  After the first ten flights, Laela was having fantasies about killing him. Stairs, stairs, and more stairs, up and up and up, on and on and on. She trudged along stoically, until white spots started to flash in front of her eyes. Wolf kindly relieved her of her possessions and went ahead of her, stopping occasionally to let her catch up.

  “Nearly there!” he said, more than once.

  Laela ground her teeth. She was too tired to say anything, but her mind was full of possibilities, each one ruder than the last.

  Finally, Wolf said, “All right, let’s stop for a rest.”

  Laela leant against the wall, then slid down it onto the floor and stayed there.

  Wolf sat beside her, hugging his knees. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have far to go now.”