To the City
I’m used to making men happy with my smile, willing to do what I want, to trust me even when they should know better.
Sometimes I don’t make that much of an effort, sometimes I even like trying to be annoying. It’s fun to tweak a fool now and then, and I don’t often get a chance.
The petty little man wasn’t happy with me as I spoke my name, and he stumbled through writing my name on the city’s list of entries. The spelling was atrocious, but close enough that somebody else could read it off and pronounce something I would probably recognize as my own. If they didn’t have a thick accent. And if I remembered it was my name, it’d been years since I’d used it.
“My papers, if you please?” I asked, before snatching back the papers off his desk with a confidence that surprised me almost as much as it did the punctilious clerk who had futilely examined them for any signs of forgery. To his obvious disappointment, they’d proven authentic.
His irate glare made me laugh as I moved on, leaving him behind to stew at my audacity.
He was probably upset that he hadn’t found some flaw to justify filing them away, so a new copy could be made. One that he’d charge a fair commission to do. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. They were mine, after all, and entirely legitimate.
I’d seen the High Admiral seal them herself in her own office on the Royal Flagship itself.
“You could be more discreet,” said my companion with a sigh. Sometimes she had no sense of fun. Or maybe it was the poison from the little creature that had stung her hand earlier this morning giving her a bad temper. Good enough fortune for me though. The burning pain was the only reason she’d agreed to travel ahead with me into the city before the rest of our caravan passed the gates.
“I’m walking free where I’d have been hard-pressed to sneak into even a year ago,” I told her, “so pardon me for finding the change in circumstances amusing.”
“Peace treaty or no peace treaty, there’s a lot of folks who might decide you’re still worth knifing,” she replied, “And if you managed to sneak your murderous little ass into this bastion, I would have thought the war even more likely to end earlier.”
She led me off down to a narrow tunnel that ran under the city walls, as I pondered whether that was a compliment to me or not.
Moving through the long passageway, I wasn’t that inclined to argue the point, it wasn’t likely I would have infiltrated this deeply into their territory anyway. The risk would have been high, though the idea of killing off a few dozen targets in a place they believed safe made me smile. It would have been a bit of fun.
The wave of pain that formed behind my eyes told me I was pushing my geas, and I stumbled into the wall before catching myself.
That elicited a laugh. She had to know what I had been thinking.
“Shut up,” I snapped, trying not to think of what else I could do if I weren’t constrained by my oath of peace.
I managed to keep from wanting to kill anyone else until we got out of the tunnel, and even the sudden glare of sunlight at the exit didn’t manage to bother me for long.
The usual bustle of a marketplace awaited us, a few merchant stalls hawking wares, a tavern or two where a thirsty traveler might find a drink. Even a stable, though we’d left our mounts behind, so we didn’t need that service.
A crowd of young street urchins was lined up by a fountain that stood in the center of the square, a statue of a woman stood above it, with a snake wrapped around her. Water gushed out of the reptile’s fanged mouth.
I couldn’t tell what that was supposed to represent. I was tempted to ask, but instead, my partner spoke first, her injury was more important than my curiosity anyway.
“Which of you can lead us to a temple? One not too far.” she said brusquely, “I’m not in a mood to be dragged all over the city or into any back alleys.”
Most of them looked away, unwilling to offer aid. Not too surprising, a pair of dust-clad bravos didn’t offer much chance of a fat purse. They had to know the main caravan was coming with more opportunities, more chances, easier marks whether their intentions were good or ill.
“A temple, brave warriors, I hope it does not offend” spoke one of the scruffier ones, eyeing the weapons both of us were wearing, “but the shrines to the gods of battle are kept beyond the wall, so that the prayers for their attention are kept outside and that the city may stay at peace.”
The downcast face kept me from looking the lad in his eyes, but somehow I sensed that wasn’t the whole truth. Didn’t matter to me though, I wasn’t going to set an offering today.
“Not looking for that kind of worship, need a different service, a healer is what I need,” she cradled the bandaged hand where she’d been stung, “one who can cure a sting from the stupid blue bug that bit me. Burns hard enough I’d almost ask for a butcher to chop it off ”
The lad stepped back at that remark.
“Oh no, if you would forgive me, I cannot take you to a butcher, not me.” he said with obvious discomfort, “it would not be proper.”
“Don’t mind her attempt at humor, she’s just a little out of sorts,” I said, “just lead us to the nearest place that a woman can say her prayers, and not be disturbed.”
“A woman’s temple,” said the boy, “you’re, of course, mistress, yes, yes, such women as you, perhaps you would like to go to the Dusk Maiden’s altar, if you do not mind.”
I flipped a coin between my fingers, hoping the promise would be an incentive.
The boy looked up at that, and nodded. I saw his green eyes flash, and wondered if he’d be pretty with his face cleaned of dirt.