Eye of the Goddess

by Cat Wilder

  Both were meticulous about cleanliness, but now they were covered with black soot. They tried to dust themselves off, but only managed to smear it. Giving up, they headed toward the basement stairs the elfmaid promised led to the pirates' treasure room.

  The otherworld creature’s carcass was still where it had fallen, and its stench was fast becoming unbearable. They gave it a wide berth as they headed for the basement door. Creeping up to the door, they first listened at the closed door a long moment, and then opened it to venture a look down. Satisfied that it was clear, they started down slowly. Then they heard voices coming their way from below.

  Tara turned and pushed Ciara back up the stairs to the kitchen. There they jumped into a large walk-in pantry. Keeping the door open a crack, Tara watched a mixed group of ten orcs, goblins, and humans come up. Mostly goblins. They could hear them talking about the two women trapped on the roof and that they expected the trapdoor to give any moment. They all looked forward to capturing the woman, the crude remarks of what they would do to any survivors made her skin crawl.

  When the coast was clear they stepped out and headed for the stairs again. Just as they exited the pantry, more voices came to them from below. Ciara turned and bumped into the pantry door causing it to slam shut. When they heard one of voices below ask, ‘What was that?’ they ran for the hallway instead. They heard the men enter the kitchen and start opening pantry doors behind them.

  As they eased into the parlor, Tara saw several men standing in the entry arguing. One was old and obese and still in his bed clothes. She figured him to be Padraig's steward. He was yelling at the orc she had seen earlier, probably the guard in charge.

  Ciara had been looking back at the kitchen door and ran into Tara. Turning, Tara pushed her back into the hallway and led the way to the great hall instead. A quick peek showed that chamber was deserted, so they entered. They closed the door at their end just as the men in the kitchen opened the door at their end. The two women were standing with their backs against the door listening to the men in the entrance foyer.

  They heard the guards from the kitchen enter the foyer and be ordered to the third floor. Ciara peeked into the hallway again and found it clear. They darted in as the man and orc arguing in the foyer entered the great hall.

  They quickly returned to the kitchen. After checking the stairs again, they worked their way down slowly. Oil lamps bolted high in the rough hewn granite walls provided dim light. The stairs ended in a passage lined with rough-hewn oaken doors. Ciara went down the left side and Tara the right, opening doors. Most were empty, but a few contained stores of food.

  It took Tara a while before she realized what the original purpose of the rooms were. They were cells. The cells convinced her that the building had been used as a slave house at one point. Tara shuddered to think of the misery these walls had witnessed. This was where captured men and women were kept until they were either taken to a distant city, or sold at auction.

  With their search of the cells finished, they continued on down the passage. Both listened intently for any evidence of more men coming or returning. The passage ended into another narrower passage. Looking both ways, they saw that both directions turned back around behind the storeroom cells.

  "Which way?" Ciara asked.

  "Right," Tara said.

  With swords at the ready, they eased down the passage with their backs against the wall. After only a short ways, they heard all the guards returning behind them. They sprinted down the passage and then darted into the first door they came to.

  Breathing heavily, both women leaned their backs against the door and rested. As her eyes became accustomed to the dimmer light, Tara began to make out furniture. She counted twenty bunks, most still unmade. At the end of many of the bunks were small chests.

  "Varissa save us. Ciara this is their bunkroom."

  "What? Shit, shit, shit!"

  "Hide!" Tara said as the voices approached.

  They jumped under the two nearest bunks as the door opened. Each found a bunk with the blankets in disarray and hanging to the floor. The men poured in almost before they were safely hidden. They could hear them laughing, joking, and arguing. Most of the conversations revolved around the intruders. The guards believed they had escaped down the rope. The night guard commander, Baart, was still upstairs being chewed out by the steward. He was furious that they hadn’t sent out men to secure the streets surrounding the building.

  "It’s not like ole Baart to forget something like that," one said. "Strange, he didn’t look drunk tonight."

  "Yeah, but not none of us expected anyone to be fool enough to break in," another said. Several men gave out grunts of agreement at that.

  "Aye, they're outsiders for sure. No Amanans would’ve chanced it. We got us a nasty reputation."

  "And well deserved." The men all laughed.

  "It’s a shame we didn’t get them. I got a close look at them and they were beauties. One was an elf, and you know I got a thing for pointy eared women."

  "Yeah, it’s been too long since last we had any kind of woman completely at our tender mercies."

  "Aye, it has. Maybe we ought to go out and snatch one?"

  "Too risky. That’s why Ron and Josaf were hanged three months back. No wench is worth that."

  "Aw, to the Pit with that. Them there bloody nobles ain’t got no since of humor. Ron and Josaf offered to pay bride price for her, it’s not their fault her daddy was a bloody magistrate."

  The conversations among the men continued for some time along this vein. Being pirates, neither woman was shocked in any way by the conversation or the casual way they discussed kidnapping and rape. What did unnerve them was the knowledge that they would be at these same men’s so called "tender mercies" if caught.

  Both were quite relieved when the men finally turned down the lamps and started getting undressed for bed. The guard sitting on the bunk above Tara pulled off his boots. Throwing the boots down, he pulled off his sweat-soaked socks and tossed them under the bed. Tara was startled by the socks hitting her in the face and jerked her head up. She bumped the bottom of the bunk slightly and held her breath, afraid that she had alerted him. But he was busy pulling off his pants and hadn’t noticed. After a second, Tara relaxed and began to notice the horrid odor from the wet socks. She looked over at Ciara, who was barely containing her giggles, and screwed up her face in disgust. Then she pushed the offending clothes away.

  They waited until the room was filled with the loud snores of sleeping men. Then Tara eased out and looked around to ensure no one was awake. Encouraged, she motioned for Ciara to come out.

  Ciara pushed the sleeping guard’s discarded clothes aside and crawled out. When she was halfway out from under the bunk, the guard rolled over and dropped his arm over the side. He hit her in the side. She scrambled back under the bed as he showed signs of waking. Tara dived back under her bunk and hit her head. This roused the sleeping man over her.

  Both women quickly crawled out from under the bunks on the opposite side and then under the next bunks over. The two roused guards looked over the side at the floor and then around the room. They looked at each other quizzically a second and then looked under their bunks. Finding nothing, they checked the other side and found nothing again.

  "Did you feel anything?" the orc in the bunk Tara had been hiding under asked.

  "Yeah, maybe it was an earthquake?"

  "Maybe, but it didn’t feel like one," he said. "Shit, go to sleep."

  The two men lowered their heads and both women sighed in relief. The women both settled down to wait for the guards to go back to sleep. Soon snores could be heard coming from both guards. Then crawling out from under the bunks, they crawled soundlessly to the door. They looked back to survey the sleeping guards. Turning to each other, they smiled. Tara turned the handle and slowly pulled the creaking door open while Ciara watched for any sign of one of the guards being awakened. After waving Ciara through first, she slipped through and eas
ed the door closed. They sat by the door for several minutes listening for any sounds of movement inside the bunkroom.

  Chapter 10

  Once it became clear that they had made good their escape from the bunkroom and no one inside had awoken, Tara let out her breath. Ciara shook her head slowly. Tara couldn't recall why they thought it a good idea to steal the Eye of Varissa.

  "That was close," Ciara said. "And did you hear what they wanted to do to us?"

  "Yes, and it scared me to death. I thought for sure you would surrender, you horny wench."

  "You would’ve thanked me if I had, but I decided to be merciful and hold my tongue."

  "How’s that?"

  "I didn’t think they could handle both of us. The poor things would’ve killed themselves trying in vain to fulfill our needs."

  "Somehow I don’t think they would be too interested in our needs."

  "Their loss."

  "Of that I have no doubt, but enough of our wanton fantasies," Tara said. She stood, and then helped Ciara up. Ciara swayed just a bit. "Let’s grab this holy eyeball and get out."

  Tara led the way down the passage. They heard the gambling guards and crept up on them. Several were warning another that they thought he might be cheating, but he was begging innocence. The door stood wide open, the golden light pouring out into the passage. The women got to their hands and knees and crept up on the door. Tara hazarded a peek inside. Seeing that the men weren’t paying attention, she motioned for Ciara to go first while she kept watch. Ciara pulled her feet up under herself and then darted past the open door. After another cast of the dice, while all the men’s attention was riveted, Tara moved across the door too. After pausing long enough to ensure they hadn’t been seen, they headed for the next corner.

  Looking around the corner, Tara saw the two guards in front of the door. Neither seemed completely awake. The women eased down the dark passage, each hugging opposite walls.

  The two men stood there leaning against the door with their eyes closed and chins resting on their chests as the women moved up beside them. Tara looked them over with a look of distaste as they approached. Both men look filthy, with greasy shirts and pants. The young human’s boots looked fairly new, but the apish looking guard’s boots were falling apart with most of the polish worn off. Tara indicated which one she wanted Ciara to take as she slid up to the other. Ciara went left beside the old apelike man and Tara eased up next to a young redhead.

  Ciara positioned her sword for a thrust straight into the heart, but Tara signaled for her to hit him over the head instead. They brought the pommels of their swords down on top of the dozing guards. The women caught their victims and eased them to the floor. After dragging the men to the side of the passage, gagging them, and binding their hands and feet, the women went to the door to study its lock.

  "The lock will be simple," Ciara said and knelt before it on one knee.

  She pulled open the drawstrings of her purse, where she always carried a few tools for picking locks. The elven pirate could pick a lock almost as fast as Tara.

  "Bloody great," Tara said, looking around nervously. "Let’s hurry and get out of here."

  Ciara hesitated. "What if there’s another one of those slimy guardian creatures?"

  "We run like the wind and may the gods be with us."

  "I was afraid you’d say something like that," Ciara said and turned to the lock.

  They both held their breath as Ciara began probing the lock. After a second both began to breathe easier when no guardians appeared. She quickly picked it and pushed the heavy oak door open. Tara took up an oil lamp from a shelf and lit it off one of the sconces. They entered the chamber after ensuring themselves that there were no magical guardians present inside.

  They were stunned. Never had either seen such wealth in one place before. The chamber was filled with chests of varying sizes full of jewels and coins. Antiques were everywhere, as were bolts of rare cloth. Silver and gold tableware, tapestries, and paintings were stacked against the walls. And various sized statuettes of rare and precious stones and metals were sprinkled about.

  "Kaliope be praised," Tara cried out softly to the Goddess of Chance. "And rumors say Padraig is destitute. No wonder he maintains such a formidable guard force."

  Elves lived a thousand years, and half-elves like Padraig could live upwards of eight hundred years or more. Rumor said Padraig was well into his second century as a pirate. Apparently, he didn’t spend it all on good living.

  "You call that formidable?" Ciara laughed. "We could rob them blind in broad daylight...in our sleep to boot."

  "I agree," Tara said, wagging her brows.

  "I can’t wait to see the look on Lujak’s and Caruso’s faces," Ciara said.

  "I’d rather see Padraig’s face," Tara said, grinning evilly. "I think I’ll send word that it was us. Gods, that’ll kill him for sure."

  They laughed at the thought.

  "Grab what you want and let’s find this Eye of Varissa and split," Tara said.

  They emptied the contents of their purses and refilled them with gold coins and jewels. They could live a long time, and well, on a single gold crown. Few folks ever had the privilege even of holding a gold coin, much less possessing one.

  Few common men earned more than a few silver crowns a year, one crown gold being worth a hundred crowns silver. Most commoners earned between twenty-five and fifty copper crowns a month.

  Pirates on the other hand were considered rather wealthy by most commoners. They sailed into port dripping with coins and jewels. Then they would proceed to throw it all away celebrating their victories. It usually didn’t take long for them to lose it all to the tavern owners, whores, and magistrates. Apparently, that wasn’t true of Padraig Half-elf.

  After filling their purses, they began slipping bracelets on their arms and necklaces around their necks. They took all they could easily and quietly carry. Then they began a thorough search of the treasure chamber.

  They looked everywhere, but failed to find the object of their desires. Every chest was emptied and the contents sifted through in their search. Even the walls and floor were checked for hidden doors or compartments.

  "Where is the bloody jewel," Tara snapped in frustration.

  "The gods only know," Ciara said in defeat.

  "Well...not exactly only the gods," Tara said.

  "You mean...?"

  "Padraig." They shared a long gaze, while a dozen ideas raced through Tara's head. "You know where his bedchamber is, right?"

  "Yes. I would be surprised if it wasn’t in his bedchamber," Ciara said.

  "True, many people hide especially valuable items separately," Tara said.

  "Shall we pay the good captain a visit?" Ciara asked, tilted elven eyes dancing in mischievous glee.

  "I don’t intend leaving without the Eye of Varissa," Tara said. "And nothing is going to stop me either."

  The door behind them boomed closed. Instinctively, both women leapt into fighting stances. They looked at each other wide-eyed as they listened to the lock turning.

  ~**~**~

  The dice, like the night, seemed against Baart. Just when it looked like he would at least get back what he had already lost, the dice would turn on him and he would go even deeper in the hole. In frustration, he turned from the game and walked to the open door.

  "Giving up, Baart?"

  "Have to," he said. "You godless bastards already took all I have and half my next week’s pay."

  The other guards laughed and turned back to their game. He watched them from the door a few minutes. The game of six was simple enough. Each die had six sides and was numbered one through six. The object was to roll two of the same. It didn’t matter who rolled the dice, everyone bet according to whether or not they thought a double would come up. And if a double of the number six was rolled, the losers had to pay double.

  Baart leaned against the doorjamb and wondered why everything seemed to be falling down around him. He ha
d been a successful mercenary officer, well on his way to fame and fortune, and now he would be lucky not to lose his job the next morning. Lousy as that job was, it was still better than most and it sure beat the hell out of sleeping in the streets and alleys. And that was exactly where he had been before landing it. He looked to the heavens and shook his head.

  Damn the Fates for what they’ve done to me, he silently cursed.

  Baart headed for the bunkroom. Opening the door, he was assaulted by the loud snores of the sleeping men. For the thousandth time, he wondered how anyone could sleep in that racket. But then again he would have liked to try. He never would get use to working at night.

  He woke the next relief for the treasure room. As usual, they proved difficult to rouse and surly afterwards. He waited impatiently for the peg-legged goblin, Boras, and half-elf, Mik, to dress and arm themselves. When they were ready, he led them out toward the treasure room.

  Rounding the corner, Baart was surprised when no one was to be seen.

  If those two are asleep again, I’ll personally beat the shit out of them.

  As they approached, he noticed two figures lying in the shadows to one side. With a growl he headed for Masi and Yarus. This would be the fourth time in the last two months he had caught them sleeping on duty. It looked like he had found someone to take out all his frustrations on after all. This would be a night they would never forget.

  But as he approached, he noticed their arms were tied and they were gagged. He signaled a halt and pulled his sword. A quick glance at the treasure room door showed it was open just a crack. He eased over to the door and could hear soft voices inside. Female voices. He pushed it open just enough to look in and saw two women standing next to an upended chest. And as they started to turn for the door, he slammed it shut and locked it.