Black Cross

by J. P. Ashman

  ‘But no cleric has searched the scroll’s writings?’ Orix asked.

  The old cleric shook his head and headed for the door. ‘I’ll see to that myself.’

  ‘And I’ll join you,’ Orix said, as he hopped down from the bench and hurried after his colleague. ‘Stay here and see if you can find out more,’ he added to Morri and Elloise. ‘We’ll come back with anything we find.’

  The metallic rustling of maille followed Orix down the corridor, and Morri’s heart sank to think of the old gnome being escorted everywhere he went by the guild’s own guards.

  ‘You really think there could be something in that?’ Elloise asked Morri, a hint of annoyance in her tone. ‘Orix seems to have gotten his hopes up,’ she added, gesturing with her thumb towards the door.

  ‘I hope there’s something in that, Elloise, because we’re getting no further here and we need answers. And I say hope, because I don’t actually believe the plague is a coincidence, but neither do I believe from what we’ve seen here that it’s a mutated strain of Master Orix’s potion either.’ Morri sighed heavily. ‘We’ll carry on looking here and who knows, they may find something on Severun's scroll.’

  Elloise nodded unconvincingly and continued checking her samples.

  Morri silently hoped again for there to be an answer within the writings of Severun’s arcane scroll, for Orix’s sake if no others.

  ***

  Elleth wept into Mother’s arms as the two of them sat by the glowing fire in the kitchen, a steaming pot of dandelion tea hanging above the embers.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because, my dear, it’s how we live. Some folk bake bread, some butcher animals; others pick pockets or even kill for a living.’

  Elleth’s head lifted then, her tear streaked face turning towards Mother’s, who nodded.

  ‘Oh aye, assassins, guardsmen, knights even. They’re all paid to kill ye see. People need money or trades to eat; to have a roof over their heads. And for us dear, we spend time with men, sometimes other women, and fulfil a role and a service they greatly desire.’

  Elleth’s head shook slowly from side to side as she spoke. ‘But ye said it’d stop hurting me down there.’

  ‘And it will, my lovely.’ Mother stroked Elleth’s black hair. ‘Was that man not better than the first?’

  Elleth moved to shake her head then stopped. ‘A little, but he was younger and not as…’

  ‘As what dear?’

  ‘Big, ye know, with his thing,’ and I’m still hurting from the first. It’s not been long since him, so how could the second be better? Elleth didn’t dare say that out loud.

  Mother laughed and Elleth pulled back a bit. ‘Ye’ll learn there’s benefits, my lovely, to all kinds of things. Look at the girls up top floor…’

  Elleth noticed a change in tone then, as well as Mother’s mirth falling away, but only for a moment.

  ‘…they learnt… have learnt to know exactly how to please a man, but more importantly, how to get pleasure from it themselves, no matter who they’re entertaining.’

  ‘I don’t think I can, Mother. I just don’t think I can.’

  Mother’s grip tightened on Elleth. ‘Ye will girl, I tell ye, ye will. Did I not give ye two handsome men as yer first ones?’

  ‘Handsome? Is that pretty?’

  ‘Aye lass, for men it’s pretty. Did I not though?’

  Elleth nodded.

  ‘Then count yerself lucky, girl, it’s only because I love ye I do that for ye. Some of the other girls don’t get that from me when the men come.’

  ‘Like Coppin?’ Elleth’s intense, grey eyes locked with Mother’s.

  ‘Don’t question me, girl,’ Mother said, and it was clear the question had angered her. ‘Did I not throw him out and tend to yer sister miself?’

  ‘Aye Mother, ye did, but—’

  The slap shocked Elleth. Mother hadn’t shown her such anger in the days she’d been there. She’d shouted, sure, what mother didn’t, but this? Mamma would never have hit her. She pulled from Mother’s grip then and stumbled backwards into the room, facing the older woman with raw determination, Coppin’s voice in her thoughts.

  ‘Dear, I—’

  ‘She told me!’ Elleth shouted. ‘She told me they pay ye, pay ye to hurt us! Told me before it happened, for I ain’t seen her since, have I?’ Yet I couldn’t believe it, not then… Coppin, I’m so sorry.

  ‘Ye don’t listen to that bitch.’ Mother stood and her face darkened, and for the first time, Elleth knew she’d seen Mother’s true face; her true feelings for her girls were showing through.

  Backing away slowly towards the kitchen door, Elleth continued. ‘Is that what’s happened to me? These pretty handsome men have paid to hurt me between me legs, instead of bite me tits?’

  ‘Stupid girl, that’s just sex. Ye wait till one really wants to hurt ye and I’ll damned well let ’em do it for no extra if ye carry on.’

  Elleth’s stomach twisted then and her heart raced as the truth of it all sank in. She turned quickly, pulled the door open and ran for the front of the building.

  Mother followed noisily.

  The fat woman wouldn’t be able to catch her though, Elleth knew that much… until she reached the locked door; a lock requiring Mother’s key.

  ‘Think ye can run, Elleth? Ye be smart and realise how to embrace it like those girls up top did.’

  The girls upstairs!

  Elleth hadn’t met the girls upstairs, but Coppin – who'd been sent on an errand hours ago according to Mother – had always said they were like true big sisters, who taught her tricks of beauty and hair, amongst other things. Elleth now knew what sort of other things Coppin had been talking about, but one thing Elleth was sure, the girls up top would protect her, or so she hoped, for it was her only option now there was no way out of the bolted door in front of her.

  Just as Mother reached Elleth, the girl ran for the stairs and moved as fast as she could up to the third floor, which was richly decorated with thick rugs and papered walls. None of the usual sounds came from the rooms. No giggling, laughing, shrieking or grunts, but knowing how slow Mother would climb the stairs, Elleth stopped and knocked on the first door. She didn’t want to get whoever was inside in trouble if they were entertaining.

  ‘Hello,’ Elleth said in a hushed tone, her heart racing. ‘It’s Elleth, from downstairs. Mother’s angry and I need yer help. Please.’

  No answer.

  ‘Please,’ Elleth said again, fear rising within her as the lower stairs creaked. ‘Open up, please…’ She knocked again and then tried the handle, hoping whoever was inside was asleep.

  The door opened slowly and quietly, revealing a green papered wall, leading to a large four poster bed with…

  Elleth screamed.

  On the bed lay an emaciated girl with purple and black spots covering her bare arms and large tumours here and there about her neck. Her red rimmed eyes moved to Elleth’s and widened as she tried to speak through dry, cracked lips.

  Elleth was stunned. She recognised the sickness for what it was and fear gripped her heart like a clawed hand, squeezing as she tried to take a step forward. Nausea threatened to double her over.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered, sorrow pushing tears from her eyes. She turned suddenly and rushed to the next room along, bursting in and finding the same scene, albeit surrounded by different décor.

  The next two doors held similar scenes, but these girls were dead, one of them looking like she’d been there for quite some time.

  Elleth slumped to the floor then and sobbed, despite hearing Mother reach the top of the stairs. Looking up, she caught Mother’s eyes, eyes that held no love as far as Elleth was concerned.

  ‘They’d black cross the door, my lovely,’ Mother said quietly. She slowly moved past each door, closing them in turn. She eventually reached the girl on the floor, whose thin arms were wrapped around her knees. ‘It’d be the end of us. No one would come, Elleth, and we’d starve
me and thee. Our only hope now is those grey eyes of yours, that shiny black hair and that innocent smile. Even Coppin lost her appeal; her breasts ruined, and no, despite what she said I didn’t let that bastard do that to her, not that.’

  Elleth’s crying came on all the more at the realisation Coppin was gone.

  ‘She made us a lot of money by going, dear. Let’s us eat a few weeks with what he paid for her.’

  Elleth’s swollen eyes widened as she took in the words and watched Mother crouch down beside her. ‘Ye sold her?’ Anger rose in her again and her sobs turned to heaving breaths as she suddenly surged to her feet, knocking Mother over in the process. She stood over Mother then and went to hit her, something she never thought she’d want to do until this moment.

  An iron grip caught her wrist as she swung down, and the much larger woman pulled Elleth to the ground and held her there.

  ‘You ungrateful bitch. There’s only a couple of ye left. These one’s up here’re dead or as good as and I ain’t for letting ’em black cross me door and close me down, so ye’ll have to work for yer keep girl and work hard like the others. No more pick of the bunch for you! Next bastard comes through that door is yours and the next and the bloody next.’ Mother stood and hauled Elleth to her feet easily, dragging her literally kicking and screaming behind her.

  ‘Ye think I ain’t been through it all miself? Ye think I ain’t had men beat me, shaft me however they please and wherever they please? I did me time and I worked for this bastard place and no little bitch like you is gonna ruin it and take it from me!’

  Elleth had been dragged down the stairs to the floor below, where Mother managed to throw her into a room before pulling the door shut and bolting it from the outside.

  A door further down opened and a woman with blonde hair looked out, before pulling her head swiftly back in at the sight of a raging Mother.

  ‘Ye’d do best to stay in there, Aynsa, if ye know what’s good for ye!’

  Mother turned back to the door in front of her and leaned against it. ‘Elleth?’ she called softly.

  Silence.

  ‘Ye do good in that room and ye may be able to heal the wound ye caused between us, ye hear? Ye try to get out or do anything stupid,’ the woman’s voice raised again as she went on, ‘and I’ll offer ye up on the street and believe me, that’s far worse than in that room, for there’d be no break between the bastards who come a-calling!’

  Elleth didn’t even make the bed before she fell and curled up, her returning sobs racking her body as she gasped for air between them. Her life had been destroyed by the plague, but she’d been lucky enough to find a new family, or so she’d thought. This hell, however – for surely that’s what it was – made her wonder whether the sickness would have been better for her; to die in her mamma’s arms, with her dada and brothers beside her.

  Oh Coppin, where are ye? I hope it’s better than here. It just has to be.

  ***

  ‘You left them in there armed?’

  ‘Yes, inquisitor,’ Archbishop Corlen said to the tall man stood opposite him in the corridor. ‘I panicked, but I knew the Grand Inquisitor didn’t want disturbing, so thought it best to lock them up until you were available.’

  Speaking slowly and emphasising each word, the inquisitor said, ‘With…their… weapons?’

  The Archbishop’s jowls wobbled as he nodded swiftly, swallowing hard at the same time.

  ‘Then we shall leave them a while longer, I want them tired and hungry when I finally go in there.’

  ‘Surely not alone though, inquisitor?’ Corlen said, his face flushed and his hands wringing together in front of him.

  What a pathetic excuse for a man you are, Corlen. How you ever made Archbishop is beyond me. ‘Yes, alone,’ the inquisitor said. ‘There’s no reason to antagonise them and I am confident I can handle two guardsmen should I need to, or do you doubt me?’

  ‘No, Inquisitor Makhell, of course not. It’s just…’ the Archbishop looked around for the right way to put his thoughts into words, ‘they seemed very… capable.’

  ‘Trust me, Archbishop, capability is something I have often found the City Guard lacking. Now be on your way and make no mention of this to the Grand Inquisitor or the witchunters, for your own sake as well as mine.’

  Corlen nodded and thanked Inquisitor Makhell, before shuffling down the corridor towards his private chambers.

  Snorting his disgust, the inquisitor turned and walked confidently in the other direction, all the while mouthing prayers to Sir Samorl and slapping his wooden rod into his open palm.

  ***

  Fal slowly opened his eyes and blinked immediately as dust and grit stung them. He tried to raise his hand to rub at them, but it was snagged under something by his side. It was dark and through his obscured vision, he couldn’t make anything out.

  The last thing he remembered were lights out to sea, thunder and then an almighty explosion as the cave erupted with flying debris. He tried to pull his hand free again as someone groaned next to him. Fal’s hand slid free as the weight was removed and the end of his fingers began to tingle slightly. He managed to sit up whilst moving his fingers to get the blood flowing again.

  Someone shuffled beside him.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Fal asked. He managed to stifle a cough as he wiped at the dust on his face. He winced as his eyes stung again. Blink blink blink… he thought, although he did more rubbing than blinking.

  ‘It’s Correia. Is that you, Sergeant Falchion?’

  ‘Yeah it’s me. Are you injured?’ He tried to wipe away the tears so he could make out the woman beside him. Although the sky was clear and the moon bright, it offered little light in the tunnel at the back of the cave.

  ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Bruised in places, but I’m alright. What about the others?’

  Fal thought he could make out her faint outline now.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Sav mumbled. ‘My bloody lip hurts though.’ No one replied and Sav sighed. ‘Get it, bloody lip? I split my lip?’

  ‘Yes we got it,’ Correia said, ‘now shut up if you’re not hurt, and help us find the others and Errolas’ star stone.’

  Fal imagined Sav rolling his eyes and smiled to himself. He could always count on the lanky scout to try and boost morale, even if Correia didn’t appreciate it. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and felt a slender yet firm hand on his arm as Correia pulled herself up next to him.

  ‘Mearson?’ Correia shouted. ‘Gleave?’

  ‘Starks, you there?’ Fal asked as loud as he dared considering his head was still tender from Execution Square. ‘Errolas?’

  The sound of someone moving came from Sav’s direction and then the scout cursed. As he did, someone else grunted and then moaned.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Fal asked, ‘Starks?’

  ‘It’s Mearson.’

  ‘Sorry Mearson,’ said Sav, ‘I think I trod on you.’

  ‘It’s not that, it’s my head, it’s banging. It felt like half this flaming tunnel came down on us. Ma’m, you injured? Where’s Gleave and Tom?’

  There was a pause before Correia replied. ‘Tom’s dead and we can’t find Gleave. He was near us before the cave-in…’

  Mearson fell silent for a few moments before grunting and muttering something about his arm. ‘Cave-in? It was that bloody ship—’

  ‘Mearson!’ Correia hissed and the man held his tongue fast.

  ‘What’s he talking about?’ Errolas’ voice came from Mearson’s direction.

  Correia’s feet shifted audibly. ‘Errolas, you’re not hurt, thank goodness,’ she said, clearly avoiding the elf’s question. ‘Do you have the star stone? We need to find Gleave and the crossbowman.’

  ‘Starks,’ Fal added.

  ‘Starks, of course, we need to find him.’

  ‘I have the stone here, Correia, and you shall have it when you explain what your man meant?’ Errolas’ voice was deadly serious, and Fal wished the elf would shine the stone
so they could see Correia’s expression.

  There was silence for a few moments and then Correia sighed. ‘Very well elf, if I must. We are currently testing a new type of ship off this shore. Its presence may have attracted whatever that thing was that attacked my men… and brought this tunnel down on top of us.’

  ‘You think whatever you’re doing out there may have attracted that thing?’ Fal asked, incredulously.

  ‘Well, it could be a coincidence of course,’ Mearson said. Correia shifted again, as if wanting to shut the pathfinder up before he gave anything else away.

  ‘What are you are testing then, Correia,’ Errolas said, his tone as deadly as before, ‘that could bring such a creature from the depths? For in all my years I have never heard such a sound, and my bleeding ears are testimony to that.’

  ‘I need your stone, Errolas,’ the Spymaster said, clearly losing her control. ‘We need to find the other men. We have a mission to press on with and we don’t have time for a debate. I’ve already lost damned good men here today and we’re not even away from the bloody coast yet.’

  ‘This is no debate,’ Errolas said quickly, ignoring her attempts to shut him up, ‘nor is it a coincidence as your pathfinder claims.’

  Both Fal and Sav were shocked to hear the elf sound genuinely angry.

  ‘They’re testing cannons, elf. Now give me your stone or light this tunnel up yourself, either way we need to find my pathfinder and the crossbowman and move on with our mission. I’ve lost too many, Errolas, I’m not losing another under this rubble.’ Correia’s temper was rising and Fal could sense her impatience.

  ‘You mean a bloody ship blasted this cave to bits around us?’ Sav shouted.

  ‘Yes, it seems they did,’ Correia said, a heavy sigh leaving her lips.

  ‘Sound travels far in the sea, Correia, and many creatures communicate or navigate using it. The repeat firing of cannons in this bay most likely drew that creature from the depths and enraged it!’ Errolas was furious and everyone in the tunnel knew why.