Dragon-Ridden

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Dragon-Ridden Page 8

by White, T. A.


  “Let’s get goin’, girl,” Leader snarled.

  She gave one last lingering glance at the harbor behind her.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Leader shouted, spittle flying. “I said get moving, or I’ll send someone to make you move.”

  Tate gave him a slow look, the kind a predator gives its prey when it’s wondering what it’ll taste like and how much effort it would be to catch it. Just because she was doing what he wanted, didn’t mean she was prey. He paled slightly and took a small step back, before remembering he had her outnumbered. With a stubborn jut to his jaw, he violently motioned her forward.

  This time she obeyed.

  She walked purposely towards the city, her head held high and on guard for the slightest possibility of escape.

  Leader led the way while the others surrounded her, hemming her in. They were careful to not draw attention though Blade kept a knife touching her back and maintained a grip on her arm. There’d be no escape as long as he kept that knife against her. Still, Tate remained alert and watchful. You never knew after all. Opportunity came at the strangest of times.

  By this time, people had begun to fill the streets in a thin trickle. Despite the festive air hanging over the city, men and women hurried to put in a days work. There’d be time later to play.

  Nobody spared a glance for Tate’s gaggle. Why would they? Her escorts’ clothes were neither too fine nor too ratty. No one looked overtly threatening except Behemoth whose size was enough to persuade others from looking too closely. For all intents and purposes they looked like every other group going about the day’s business.

  Got to love city anonymity, Tate thought wryly.

  There was no talking as they headed to the eastern side of the city. Before long, buildings showed slight signs of wear and tear as they made their way into the poorer section of town. Trash littered alleyways where the collectors hadn’t come and paint peeled from shutters in little curls. There were few people here hurrying to work. From a stoop nearby a trio watched Tate’s party pass with hostile boredom.

  “How much further?” Tate asked inserting a slight whine into her voice. She wanted to sound annoying. “I’ve got things to do today. I don’t have time to be traipsing all over the city with you.”

  Leader pulled to a stop, his shoulders tightening as he bowed his head. From the right angle, it looked like he had no neck. The rest of them stopped too. Tate hid a satisfied smirk as he strove for patience that was quickly slipping from his fingers. Besides giving him a nice beating for the irritation he had caused, annoying him into doing something stupid took a nice second place.

  “First you drag me away from finding breakfast; then you make me walk for hours in the shady part of town. Do you even know where you’re going?”

  His shoulders tightened even further to the sharp tenseness of a violin’s string. Tate had been told she could annoy even the most patient of men, and Leader didn’t strike her as someone who went through life turning the other cheek. She didn’t like him very much and that made it all the more fun to drive him crazy.

  With her stomach still growling for food and a headache winding its way down her neck, she was in a nasty mood. All she needed to do was needle Leader a little further, just get him to snap.

  “Bet you don’t like having to follow someone who can’t find his ass, even with shit dripping from it,” Tate told Blade.

  With an incoherent cry, Leader’s control snapped with an almost audible ping. He whirled, pulling a dagger from his waist and rushed Tate headlong.

  Blade let go of her arm and stepped to meet him.

  “Are you crazy? He wants her alive,” Blade said coldly knocking him back.

  It was the chance Tate had been looking for. She dropped into a low stance, joined her hands into one fist and punched with all her strength into the side of Behemoth’s knee. It crumpled under him. With a cry of pain he tilted to the side and fell, barely catching himself before he face planted into the street.

  Tate didn’t wait for Blade or Leader to recover from their shock, instead spinning and sprinting back the way they’d come.

  She nearly ran Dewdrop down in his surprise. She shoved him out of the way and dodged Bones’ scrawny arms, ignoring the cries to stop.

  Her legs pumped as she widened her stride, fighting for every inch she could. Should have taken more time to run but being on ship wasn’t the best place to train. You could only run around the ship in a big circle before you felt like your head would spin off. Air burned her lungs as her chest heaved. They pounded after her. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up to her.

  “Stop her,” a man, Tate thought it might be Blade, shouted behind her.

  The men on the stoop from earlier watched the crazy redhead pound down the street toward them. They straightened slowly as she neared. One ambled into the street carrying a wooden beam. Several others joined him.

  No way she’d make it through all of them, not while being chased. Cursing under her breath, she darted down an alley, barely evading one of the men.

  She hurtled over trash and dodged obstacles, not daring to look behind her, afraid if she did, she’d trip, and they’d catch her. It was hard to tell how close they were with the adrenaline pumping through her system and her heart a deafening beat in her ears.

  She fought not to slow down, pushing herself even harder as she broke onto another street. She darted around the corner almost crashing into a couple. She didn’t pause to apologize instead rushing past them amid cries of anger.

  Seconds later the lady screamed as Blade bowled her over in his rush.

  Another alley opened up on her left, and Tate flew down it.

  Her luck ran out when the alley dead-ended into a brick wall. Before she could back track, Blade ducked into the alley behind her.

  It was over.

  Tate bent, placing her hands on her knees as she sucked in breath after ragged breath of air.

  Blade stopped too.

  She was trapped.

  Still, she looked around hoping to find a door or window she could climb through. No luck. Nothing was in the alley except the two of them and a pair of trashcans.

  “What are you?” Blade asked, his breathing not nearly as ragged as Tate’s. “You’re not Kairi, you haven’t the coloring. Silva?”

  “I don’t even know what that is,” Tate said. “I’m me and as far as I know, human.”

  “No,” he shook his head emphatically. “No human could have out run me as long as you did.”

  Tate had maybe ten feet before she would feel the wall at her back. She licked her lips nervously. Something told her meeting their boss wouldn’t be a good idea. Anybody who’d send thugs to arrange a meeting was not someone she cared to know.

  “It’s time to come along now,” Blade said moving slowly towards her. “There’s no sense in you getting hurt, so just give up.”

  Tate flashed him a brilliant smile filled with wry humor and a little bit of wickedness. “That’s the thing. I’m not so good at giving up.”

  She spun and barreled towards the trashcans as a muffled curse echoed behind her. With a leap she landed on the cans and then planted a foot on the wall and launched herself up even further. She gripped the edge and pulled herself up with a grunt throwing one leg over.

  It worked.

  She was a little surprised at her success. It was a good thing she’d learned to climb a mast with no handholds.

  With a smooth grace Blade followed her same path.

  Tate squeaked and planted her hands on the roof of the next building, leveraging herself up.

  Blade missed the wall’s edge by a breath and fell back to the street.

  Tate allowed relief to course through her as he colored the air with curses. Shouts signaled the arrival of his companions.

  She stepped back, turning and running carefully across the uneven tiles as she took the sky path away from her pursuers.

  Looks like she wouldn’t be making that meeting after a
ll. Too bad.

  Chapter Five

  Tate covered quite a bit of city before she was ready to stop running. During her journey, she’d only had to touch street level twice and instead made good use of narrow ledges and long roofs to find her way across the city.

  The tantalizing smell of food and her own lightheadedness from hunger finally drove her back to the streets. Otherwise she might never have come down, content to pass her time with the wide-open sky and amazing views of the city and harbor.

  The alley she dropped into was thankfully free of people. It was cramped, narrow and if she held her arms straight out she could almost to touch either side. She hesitated at its mouth, watching the fury of movement outside. She needed food. Now.

  Her nose led her to a cart with meat turnovers for sell. She inhaled the first two, not even tasting them and burning her tongue in the process. The third she savored, letting the spices burst on her tongue while the dough melted in her mouth. Yum. Finally full, she licked her fingers clean of any remaining juices and took a look around.

  Focused on the food, she’d let the flow of the people take her where it would. The press of bodies had congregated on either side of the street leaving a wide clear space between.

  “What’s going on?” Tate asked the woman next to her.

  “Some of the nobility are touring the Lower City,” was the excited response.

  Not wanting to be pushed any further in the crowd, Tate found a lamppost to climb. The raised base made a good footrest and holding onto the pole anchored her in place. From her vantage point she could see the sharply dressed soldiers in silver and dark blue uniforms marching down the road.

  The soldiers were followed by row after row of men on horses. Dark leather reigns controlled the horse’s heads. All of the horses wore identical silver colored armor protecting their snouts, cheeks and chest. Each horse’s mane was braided in a unique pattern with dark blue metal threaded through the hair. It was the only thing about the horses that differed. Height, coloring and form were all identical. Even the riders looked like copies of each other.

  Open carriages clattered after them, the tops left off to take advantage of the pleasant weather. The paint on the carriage sides was a blue so dark that it looked nearly black. A crest with a serilean serpent coiled into an intricate S was etched into each carriage’s door. The first few carriages held young men and women, most of whom probably hadn’t even seen their coming-of-age ceremony. They waved and smiled at the crowd.

  Older men and women occupied the last few carriages. Unlike the women of the first few carriages whose hair had been left hanging loose, these women had their sleek hair pulled back in complicated knots low at the back of their heads. A few of them had brightly colored pins or hairpieces holding their hair in place. The men, in their darker clothes and hair pulled back into a tight queue, provided a more somber contrast to the butterflies at their side.

  All of them had the same coloring as Umi. They must be Kairi as well.

  For all the gaiety among the party, an undercurrent of tension ran through them. Especially among the older men and women. The guards walking on either side kept their hands close to their weapons and watched the crowd for signs of danger.

  As Tate watched, a guard shoved away a woman trying to approach one of the carriages, causing waves of anger to ripple through the people she was pushed into.

  The women’s smiles had tightened until they appeared to be painted in place. There was none of the usual conversation between the carriage riders. The men seemed entirely focused on the crowd, rather than the beauties at their side.

  Ricky had been right about tensions riding high. Someone new to the city with no background information would probably never have noticed.

  A feeling of unease sank in, and she glanced to the rooftops. Perhaps it was time she headed back up there.

  As she was preparing to step down from her perch, her eyes met the eagle sharp glare of a man seated in the last conveyance. Her breath froze in her lungs as he held her gaze. He did not look pleased.

  He stood, rocking his carriage and leapt out.

  Snapping back into awareness, Tate jumped off her perch. Of all the bad luck.

  Why was Ryu here? And why was he with the Kairi in a royal procession?

  The crowd swallowed her within steps. She kept her head down as she slid past people, hoping they would conceal her figure long enough for her to get out of sight. She had to push past several people, leaving angry shouts in her wake.

  Reaching the edge of the crowd meant fewer people to fight through, but it also meant less camouflage. She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Ryu was bearing down on her quickly. He looked furious. The storm clouds gathering in his face and his considerably larger figure motivated people to get out of his way quickly.

  She fled before him. All she needed was to get back onto the roofs. He wouldn’t be able to follow her there. Hopefully.

  Tate clambered halfway up a fence, cursing as she went. Why hadn’t she chosen a different direction?

  Ryu grabbed one leg before she could wiggle over it, plucking her off in one smooth motion. The world tilted as she flew through the air. She was caught in iron arms that contained her frantic kicking and punching. Her back pressed against his chest as he kept her wrapped in a bear hug subduing her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  His breath puffed against her ear. Good to know she hadn’t been an easy capture at least.

  “Let go!”

  “I don’t think so,” he growled.

  He dragged her cursing and wiggling form out of the alley. People turned toward them as news of the spectacle spread.

  The parade had paused when he’d leapt out of the carriage and many had turned to see what had caught the gentry’s notice.

  A tall well-dressed man shot him a questioning look. Ryu shook his head firmly and waved them on.

  “Damn you, Ryu,” Tate hissed. “You have no right to do this.”

  Ryu didn’t answer or even pause. Instead, he carried her effortlessly away from the parade, not stopping until they were several streets away. Only when he’d found a low budget carriage-for-hire and thrown her inside did he release her.

  “Colton’s Place,” he told the driver.

  She used that moment of distraction to try to slip out the opposite side. He snatched her back, catching a well-aimed elbow to the face. He found his seat and clasped her tightly to him, making sure she had no room to maneuver no matter how she fought. Escape was impossible.

  He waited as she wore herself out. She gave a last kick to the door before settling against him. He let her sit up keeping one hand on her arm just in case.

  “What are you doing here, Tate?”

  She shrugged not bothering to answer. It didn’t matter now. She was caught.

  “You’re supposed to be on the Marauder,” he said tightly.

  “Well obviously I’m not,” she snapped.

  “I can see that,” he said dryly. “What I want to know is why?”

  “What does it matter?”

  He frowned darkly at her. She tightened her lips and met his gaze with her own. His head tilted slightly, and he gave her a considering look.

  He rubbed his thumb along his jaw. “I suppose I could always send you to the Marauder so you can explain your reasons to Jost personally.”

  Tate sucked in a breath. He couldn’t be serious. “I doubt you even know where they’ve gone.”

  His face was impassive as he stared her down. Tate shifted in her seat. Jost hadn’t told any of the crew their next destination. He never did when they got a job. The first they’d learn about it was when they were out at sea. Sometimes he waited until the very last minute before telling the crew what was going on.

  Ryu’s eyes hadn’t moved from her as he waited for her answer. He seemed utterly convinced that he could do what he threatened. Perhaps it was possible that he knew. Ryu had never been treated like the rest of the cre
w.

  Tate pressed herself against the other side of the carriage, feeling a little sick to her stomach. “You know what Jost would do to a deserter.”

  He nodded.

  Tate folded her arms across her stomach and hunched her back. Did she really want to test him over this?

  “It wasn’t the first time I’d been attacked,” Tate said looking away from him.

  Ryu stiffened beside her until he resembled a very large statue. His face drained of expression, and his eyes became very cold. The rest of the short trip passed in silence.

  The carriage stopped. It rocked gently as the horses pranced in place. Ryu swung out and held his hand out to Tate. There was no choice but to let him help her out.

  Tate’s fear had subsided. There was no way he knew where the Marauder was headed. Even if he did it would take time to meet up with Jost. She had no doubt she’d have devised some way to escape before it was too late. Her palm itched to slap that mocking look off Ryu’s face, but she couldn’t. Civilized people did not go around hitting others just because they were irritating. Unless of course they were stronger than that person and could get away with it. Then the rules changed.

  A two story plain brown building awaited them, simple letters spelling out its name, “Colton’s Place,” just over the door.

  Ryu placed his hand on the small of Tate’s back ushering her inside and into a small apartment that fit a bed, desk and small latrine. Weapons and neatly folded clothes were laid out on the desk. Tate knew without being told they were Ryu’s.

  He pushed her at the bed. “Sit.”

  Left with no choice, she obeyed, glaring at him the entire time.

  There was a lazy grace to Ryu’s movements as his feet whispered across the floor as silent as one of the northern snowcats, not a rustle of cloth betraying him. She’d only seen him in action once, when rival pirates attacked the Marauder. It had left a lasting impression. He’d lashed out at his attackers with a fierce ruthlessness and speed that had left Tate breathless. She had never seen anyone move like he had. A whirlwind of movement, he’d left his enemy dead on the deck. He hadn’t even been winded.

 

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