by Alex Aguilar
Somehow, knowing all of their names made them less scary to Robyn.
“Don’t worry. You’re not a prisoner,” Milo went on, attempting a friendly smile.
“Then why am I tied up?” Robyn asked.
“Well…”
“The hells she ain’t one!” Ayisha growled. “What were ye doin’ in that tavern, girl?!”
Robyn became suddenly startled as Ayisha charged towards her and bent to a knee in front of the chair. Meanwhile the orc girl, Yuri, was eavesdropping on the conversation, her eyes drifting to and from her book, a worn-out copy of ‘The Return of Wingless Ehryn’.
“Easy there, Ayisha,” Milo said. “Give the girl some time to adjust.”
“She looks bloody well-adjusted to me!”
“Would you like some bread with your water?” Milo asked Robyn.
“No, I would like to be untied please…”
“Shut it, girl!” Ayisha growled loudly, sending a puff of air that blew a lock away from Robyn’s cheek. “I won’t ask again! What were ye doin’ in that tavern?! Answer or I’ll break yer fingers off!”
“You won’t touch her,” Milo said, not in a defensive way but more so to point out Ayisha’s trickery. Ayisha spat at his boots, but the boy managed to dart out of the way in time. He then turned and spoke directly to Robyn. “She won’t touch you,” he said. “She’s not allowed to touch you until Skinner gets back.”
“Who’s Skinner?” Robyn asked.
“He’s our m-”
“Shut it!” Ayisha interrupted, rising to her feet. “She’ll find out soon enough…”
She was a tall young woman, Robyn realized, not exactly thinly framed but strong and agile nonetheless.
“Look here, kid,” she scolded Milo as she served herself a tankard of ale. “Ye best watch that tongue o’ yers… Skinner may be fond of ye now, but don’t let it get to yer damn head, ye hear?”
“I’m not,” the boy took a seat near Robyn and rested his boots on the wooden dinner table. “I just think you should stop tormenting the poor girl.”
“Precautions, lad…”
“Sounds more like fear to me,” Yuri commented, her eyes returning to her book.
“Fuck off!” Ayisha barked, sipping on her ale.
“Well, that would explain why you felt the need to tie her up,” Milo added.
“If I hadn’t tied her, she would’ve ran!”
“No, she wouldn’t have. Run, perhaps,” Milo said, grinning as he always did when he properly corrected somebody.
“Cute,” Ayisha glared at him annoyingly. “Correct me again ‘n’ see wha’ happens…”
Robyn felt a sudden sense of discomfort upon being the center of a conversation that she wasn’t a part of. “I’m sorry, but… Where am I?” she decided to ask.
“Same place ye was three hours ago,” Ayisha said as she took her last gulp of ale.
“Were,” Milo corrected her again.
With a fierce grunt, Ayisha threw the empty tankard at the boy. Her aim was more than precise, but he somehow managed to dodge her yet again.
“You mean… I’m still in Grymsbi?” Robyn asked nervously.
“The uglier areas, yes,” said Ayisha.
“Hang on,” Milo interrupted again. “Are you implying there are pretty areas in Grymsbi?”
“I swear I will slice yer tongue off, lad!” Ayisha glowered at him, but the boy’s grin did not fade a bit. Robyn could see that he was enjoying himself and part of her believed that the Ayisha woman was somewhat fond of the boy, despite his immaturity and teasing manner. Then again, she hardly knew either of them. They could have been killers, for all she knew. And judging from the dagger straps on Ayisha’s boots, she doubted it very little.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door…
A very particular knock, which Robyn found mildly amusing…
Four quick knocks, followed by two slow ones, and ending with four quick ones again. The sound was almost musical. It reminded Robyn of the drums that would announce the presence of an authority figure in Val Havyn, only without any horns or screaming announcers.
Ayisha opened the door and in walked a tall man with silver eyes, straight black hair that reached his back, and a hairless face that was astonishingly youthful for his age. He was dressed in hunting clothes and carried a thin single-edged blade on his back. He was about six feet in height and built like a blacksmith, arms and chest thick enough to be intimidating without any armor whatsoever.
“Took ye long enough,” Ayisha scoffed at him.
“Distractions, lass,” the man’s voice was also softer than Robyn had expected.
“Sounds more like women to me,” Yuri said, her eyes unable to look away from her book.
“Well… All right, maybe,” the man replied with a grin as he began shedding layers of clothing.
“What shoulda taken ye an hour instead took three, eh?” Ayisha asked as she took his coat and hung it on the wooden rack next to hers. “And all for what? A fat arse ‘n’ a pair o’ tits?”
“That’s low even for you, Aldous,” Milo smiled at him.
Aldous, huh? So… not Skinner then, Robyn thought. For some reason, this was a relief.
When Aldous finally noticed the stranger tied up in the corner of the room, his expression changed. His grin turned into a scowl and his eyes moved back and forth from Robyn to Ayisha. “Um… What’s this all about?”
“I found ‘er at the Stumblin’ Hare,” Ayisha said. “She was sittin’ there with ‘er pet snake ‘n’ that shit-eatin’ orc that rides with the reds.”
Aldous’s face grew a sudden wall of distress. “The reds are back in Grymsbi?”
“Seems so,” Ayisha said fretfully. “The nerve of the lot.”
Robyn hesitated for a moment, still out of sorts with her unusual surroundings, but she was damned if she was going to let them talk about her friends that way.
“Y-You’ve made a mistake!” she said restlessly. “He’s not with them!”
“The hells he ain’t!” Ayisha snapped at her. “He wore the leather! And he had the mark on his wrist! I knows it when I sees it!”
“N-No, you don’t understand! He’s not like them!” Robyn argued. “They left him to die!”
“Ahh, and now yer so fond of ‘im, are ye? Who’s to say ye ain’t with ‘em too?!”
Ayisha’s last remark nearly made Robyn implode with rage. She tried to stand but the ropes wouldn’t allow it. Instead she remained in the chair, shivering and reddening with anger as her wrists became sore from tugging on the ropes so often.
“Don’t you ever compare me to them!” she said, her jaw tightening like never before. “They tried to kill my friend… And me, they tried to…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish; the knot in her throat wouldn’t allow it. When the tears began to build around her eyes, Aldous couldn’t help but frown.
“Bloody hells, Ayisha,” he said as he unstrapped a dagger from his belt. “She’s just a peasant girl.”
“What in all hells do ye think yer doin’?” Ayisha stepped in between them.
“I’m untying her…”
“Not while I’m here, ye ain’t!”
“She says she’s not with the Brotherhood,” Aldous argued.
“And?! I could say I’m the bloody Queen of Halghard, it won’t make it true!”
“Then tell me what makes you so right…”
“Many things!” Ayisha’s voice grew into a shout; her eyes were as wide as ever and her brows were raised in a manner more threatening than an unsheathed weapon. “Ye gonna be stupid enough to trust her over me? She’s a stranger!”
“She’s a passerby,” Aldous said calmly.
“She’s peculiar!”
“You’re peculiar…”
“She was armed!”
“Show me one person who isn’t armed in this damned village?”
“A-And,” Ayisha struggled to find more excuses. “Sh-She was talkin’ while she slept!”
/> “Was she, now?” Aldous paused for a moment and glanced at Robyn with a raised eyebrow. “All right, well that’s scary as shit.”
Ayisha glanced at Milo, and just as she suspected the boy was chuckling under his breath.
“But it isn’t a good enough reason to hold the girl hostage,” Aldous added, before he stepped around Ayisha and knelt in front of the chair. He used his dagger to cut through the knots around Robyn’s ankles.
“Stop!” Ayisha tried to protest.
Before any further commotion ensued, however, Robyn muttered, “Pull my sleeve up.”
Nearly every pair of eyes turned to stare at her.
“What?” asked Aldous.
Robyn’s brows lowered, her expression fearless and her hands in a fist.
“Pull my sleeve up,” she said again, this time more sternly, as if it had been an order.
Carefully, Aldous gripped Robyn’s right wrist and used his other hand to slide her sleeve up. He was confused for a moment, until he heard Robyn hiss under her breath from the sting. Her forearm was wrapped in a white cloth that was stained with red. Aldous used his dagger to cut through the cloth until the red scabs were exposed, forming a misshapen scorpion. The blisters on her scarred skin were so unnerving that even Ayisha couldn’t help but kneel for a closer look.
“What I’ll be damned,” she muttered.
“They held me as their prisoner,” Robyn said. “I would have died, if… if…”
“It’s okay,” Aldous said, using his dagger to cut the rest of the ropes. “You don’t have to tell us.”
The tension in the room died down bit by bit, as Ayisha began to question the shield of hostility she held against Robyn. “What of the orc?” she asked, much less angry now.
“He’s not one of them anymore,” Robyn explained. “He’s no threat to you.”
“So I’m to believ’ he renounced his ways to look after a peasant girl?” Ayisha asked.
“Renounced? I’m impressed,” Milo commented. Ayisha nearly punched the boy, had he not run off into the common room to sit with Yuri.
The ropes left red marks on Robyn’s pale wrists; she could almost feel the blood rushing through the moment Aldous cut through the thick knots. “He looks after no one,” she argued.
“Then why’s he suddenly so friendly with ye?”
“He’s not my friend,” she added solemnly. “Believe me, he made that quite clear…”
“Well,” Aldous sighed. “Probably best. The Brotherhood isn’t the type to make friends. You’re all right now. D’you feel okay?”
Robyn nodded slowly, as if the movement only worsened her headache.
“She hit ‘er head,” Ayisha remarked.
“You mean you hit my head!” Robyn corrected her.
“Only once!” Ayisha barked, crossing her arms as she leaned against a wall. “That blood there is from when ye hit the floor. Did no one ever teach ye how to faint properly?”
Robyn had no idea how to even answer such a question.
“Patience is a virtue, Ayisha,” said Aldous.
“Patience is what gets ye killed. Or even worse, captured ‘n’ skinned alive.”
Robyn caressed the scar on her forearm as Aldous strapped the dagger back onto his belt. At such close distance, Robyn noticed something peculiar about the young man. He seemed to be in his twenties, no older than her brother John. His face was symmetrical and clean and though there were a few scars here and there, it looked smoother than a child’s face. But what really grasped her attention were his ears… They were round like a man’s, but the upper edges were wrinkled and scarred as if…
She must have been staring for too long; Aldous cleared his throat and brought her back to her senses. “Don’t worry, they still work,” he said with a friendly smirk.
Robyn stammered and apologized, but his laughter eased her tension.
“He’s a mutt,” Ayisha said.
“A… mutt?” Robyn asked confusedly.
“Half human, half elf,” Aldous explained.
For a moment Robyn forgot all about the throbbing pain in her scalp, she was so stunned. And though she knew it was rude, her eyes drifted unwillingly back to Aldous’s disfigured ears. “Half?” she asked, brows arched with bewilderment. “I had no idea that was even possible…”
“‘Course ye didn’t,” Ayisha grunted with annoyance. “Vallenghard’s living decades in the past, it seems.” It was obvious that Ayisha was not yet trusting towards Robyn, though her shoulders did appear far less tense than before. “Some merchant bloke down in Yulxester bought Aldous off a slave ship when he was a wee lad,” she explained. “Cut off the tips of his ears so’s he’ll… fit in.”
Robyn felt a sudden wave of sickness overcome her. “By the gods, that’s…”
“Awful?”
“Gutless?”
“…Inhuman,” Robyn finished.
Aldous nodded and smiled, a response that was much more affable than Robyn had expected. For someone with a past so dismal, Aldous seemed so jovial and cheerful it was astounding. “You think that’s bad?” he chuckled. “Try being 22 years old with silver hair. I have to dye it black every full moon to keep it from fading.”
“Praise the gods ye weren’t born with blue skin,” Ayisha added.
Robyn had no idea how else to respond. Never did she imagine such a thing was possible, for humans to breed with other species. If it was forbidden in Gravenstone to befriend a nonhuman, only the gods know what they would do if one were to have a child with a nonhuman.
Before she had enough time to take it all in, however, an upstairs door slammed against a wall and a cluster of voices overlapped in argument as the wooden stairs creaked with every one of their steps. Robyn was startled; the cabin was much more crowded than she thought it was. And, much like Ayisha and Milo, the group of misfits that stumbled down into the common room were arguing and mocking each other relentlessly as if they were all siblings.
“Do try and season it right this time, will you, Gibbons?”
“It’s chicken, stupid. It ain’t veal. Chicken’s all the same goin’ in.”
“It’s not the goin’ in I’m concerned about, it’s the comin’ out.”
“You disgust me.”
“Your smell disgusts me.”
Four children, all of them dressed in patchy secondhand clothing, walked downstairs in a single file line. The only one that Robyn recognized was the youngest, the boy she’d seen sitting in the stairwell when she first regained consciousness. The cook, presumably named Gibbons, was a husky kid of about fifteen. He didn’t seem surprised to see Robyn and neither did the others, suggesting they’d caught a glimpse of her while she was unconscious; at most, Gibbons seemed surprised to see her free of the ropes while in the presence of Ayisha.
The one that was arguing with Gibbons was a blonde boy of about thirteen wearing a hat made of a raccoon’s fur. And the last one was a girl of about fourteen, a rather quiet girl with caramel-colored skin, a dagger belt similar to Aldous’s, and chestnut-colored hair.
“Hey, watch your step! I just bought these shoes!” Gibbons shouted.
“Oh, calm your pits. They only cost you two coppers.”
“Keep it down, the lot of ye!” Ayisha barked at them all. “I’ve a headache.”
Robyn almost scoffed out loud. You have a headache?
“Oh… sorry, Ayisha,” said Gibbons. “Skinner’s back! He looks impatient. And nervous.”
“How can ye tell? It’s pitch black out there.”
“Skinner always hits the reins with a sort of limp when he’s nervous or impatient.”
“I’m telling him you called him a limp,” said the boy with the raccoon hat.
“Piss off, Tails!” Gibbons growled back.
“Alright, all of you, in position. Now!” Ayisha said in a shout.
The group scattered like mice, rushing to a formation in the middle of the common room. Meanwhile, Robyn had no idea what to do, and so she simply stood
near the corner where she’d been tied up and observed.
Ayisha was nearest to the door, standing firmly with her hands at her sides like a soldier. The rest followed in what appeared to be a descending order according to height, starting with Aldous and Yuri the orc girl. Gibbons was beside them, and there was an empty space where Milo should have been. And finally the quiet girl, the boy with the raccoon hat, and the green-eyed boy stood at the very end.
Milo took Robyn’s hand unexpectedly and pulled her towards the empty space in the formation. “Quick now!” he said to her. “You can stand here next to me.”
Robyn hardly had the time to protest or say anything. She followed Milo and stood in line with the rest, when suddenly the front door opened with a slam. A shadow stood at the doorframe, the shadow of a weary but intimidating man in a large hat.
Before the man could take a single step inside, Ayisha shouted “Attention!” and the group of misfits raised their right hand to their foreheads and stomped the wooden floor with their right foot in unison.
“At ease, wardens,” the man at the door replied with a salute, as he stepped into the cabin and dropped his bags by the door. The group did not move, however; they rested their arms at their sides and remained in place as if awaiting further instructions. The way they were all behaving gave Robyn the impression that this Skinner fellow was an authority figure of some sort, which made her feel even more out of sorts when she finally was able to see what he really looked like.
Skinner certainly did not have the bearings of a knight or a guardsman, not in the slightest. He looked like any other middle-aged man, save for his unique flashy style. His coat was a vibrant blue and his black hat looked like the type of hat a ship captain would wear, decorated with three feathers; a red one, a black one, and a white one with black spots.
“A pleasure to see ye again, sir,” Ayisha spoke first.
“Anything to report?” the man asked, his voice petulant but wise nonetheless.
“We’ve reason to believe the Rogue Brotherhood has returned to Grymsbi, sir,” Ayisha responded.
With a raised brow, Skinner took slow steps down the line formation, locking eyes with every one of his protégées one by one. When his eyes reached Robyn, however, he paused in his tracks. His expression wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t entirely welcoming either.