Red Sales, pt1

I felt insulted

These Akerosi bastards weren't even trying. The ripples of fear and surprise marked their passage through the crowded street. I spotted the five of them seconds after we turned out of the lane. One lounging in a doorway, another pair at a market-stall, another beside a lamp-post, and the last smoking infront of a butcher's stall. Their lazy smiles reminded me of the Vargr, demon-dogs of my homeland, anticipating a new victim. Just waiting for us to run.

"Vargr" I wispered to Ishmael.

His bird-like frame stiffened and his head twitched. It was only a quick expression, but I imagined the memory behind it, of when we huddled around a campfire in the Skovlan highlands watching the grinning teeth of demon-dogs at the enge of the firelight, circling our warband. His eyes grew ever wider as he spotted each of the thugs getting ready to spring their "ambush".

"Bloomin' Lampblacks. Never were subtle. Five?"

"Five."

One dropped the snub of a cigar and crushed it beneath his heavy boot. He rolled his shoulders and swaggered across the street into our path. Finally our little Iruvian snowflake noticed. She gasped at the size of our new friend. Really belonged back in the embassy grounds, but we needed her to open the talks with the Red Sashes. Iruvians and their bloody high-minded manners. I heard her sniff in disgust at the thug. Had to agree with her. His clothing was a studied mis-match of styles, obviously intended to appeal to the "common man". I thought it was just trying a little too hard. But maybe it wasn't working, as the "common man" seemed to clear away from the street right quickly. I could smell the fear.

I casually walked closer. I saw his wink, and his friends sniggering. I looked like a victim to them. My left fist tightened. This bastard was in for a surprise.

***

Kellen's was a little reminder of home. The man Kellen, whoever he had been, must have shipped over some old timers from Skovlan. The whole place was built to feel like an old highlands longhouse. Stone blocks mortared with turf made the solid ground floor, while the steeply angled roof has a layer of soil, with some roots sticking through to add that country look. Even some of the mugs were carved from demon-fish bone. Even under the miasma of stale brew and sour sweat, I could still catch of scent of home.  

Steini sat opposite me, a plate of fermented demon-fish half finished between us. I stole another piece while he considered my request. Immediately the acid taste stabbed my senses, bringing tears to my eyes as it burned down my throat. I grabbed the fungal-brew from Streini's hand and washed down the burning. The aftertaste took too long, this Akerosi brew was too weak.

"You know i hate wandering into these gang tussels." He was picking up an Akerosi accent to go with his choice in clothing. But I could still see, peeking out from collar and sleeves, his clan-tattoos. He adjusted his sleeves and tightened his cravat.

"Jae jae, But still..." I started to quote "...at every doorway open your eyes..."

"...for the foe who sits beyond'. You always want to throw the old words at me Rúna", then swallowed another chunk of demon-fish and chased it with a shot of fungal-brew. He searched my face. "What are you trying to move that makes you so nervous?"

His words were slow, seeming unwilling to leave his mount. He knew that being so direct was rude, but I guess I owed him for letting me squat for the last few months in the tiny room he called home. "We..." I searched for a word, "...found a crate of Imperial goods". He waited. "stamped for the Regiments: long rifles, powder, shot..." his eyes widened "and some alchemical hand-bombs".

He coughed, nearly spilling the shot in his hand. "By the Shrouded Queen. You are not joking!" He considered the names and vulgarities scratched in the table between us, licking his lips and pulling at the mustache that drooped past his chin. He looked back at me frowning. I let loose the breath I'd been holding, now only waiting for his words of refusal.

"Ha!" He slammed the shot onto the table, alcohol jumping over the table. "Your mother was a fox! You know I've been looking for those little pretties for weeks. Give me one. A hand-bomb. Such fires I can make." He grinned. "I'll babysit for you."

There was nothing to think about. I grabbed his hand and pulled him close. The clan bind-rune on the back of his hand touched my nose, and mine his.

"Thank you Brother."

***

"Ello loverly. Where'd a pretty little peach like you be a'goin?" I could smell the spice-smoke on his breath, and the rotten smell from his yellowing teeth. Smelled like rat-coffin.

"I visit to friends, not you." I always hated the taste of Akerosi words. Sly things, always changing meaning. You needed to line them up just right to make them make sense. Like herding cats.

"Oh sweety, such a sad thing to say." I could feel his eyes roaming down. He licked his lips. "Well my peach, lets see if I cant change your mind. Me and my boys can be very friendly." I heard his giggling friends but never took my eyes away from the talking one. An image of jeering Akerosi soldiers standing above me, the cage of their legs not blocking the white face of my dead companions...

His hand came up and stroked across my shoulder.

I don't remember moving, but my hand was suddenly between us, knife only inches away from his eye. His meaty fist clenched around my wrist. The other four still blinking in surprise.

Of course Ish stepped in. He pushed me back and stood between us. But it was Snowflake's silky voice that caught our attention "This will be something to see. They say that your manhood shrivels up just like that" her hand made a very graphic gesture. "I always wanted to know. They say the marked highlanders worship the Lady of Thorns". Khara slithered around the thug, her light touch pulling his eyes along his arm and onto mine. "They say many things, but it is known that the brave Akerosi do not listen to their whispers." Her hand slowly pulled back my wide sleeves, revealing the knotwork tattoos along the length of my right arm. "Lets not get too excited here. She's just a might jumpy, what with surviving the war and all." Ish said.

The thug stared at my arm. His eyes showed white for a second. I started to raise my left hand. The thug pushed me away then turned on Ish. 

I'm still confused by Ish. He never flinched. The thug's weight shifted onto his back foot. His shoulder dropped. Even Snowflake could see the wind up. But Ish just stood there until the thug's fist smashed into his jaw and threw him back onto the cobblestones.

"Skirt sniffing Skov-lover. Does she make you beg? Fetch? Well, now play dead." He spat onto the cobblestone next to Ish's ear. "Waste of time". He circled his finger in the air and the four other Lampblacks began to walk away. I didn't really notice a sixth man join him, dressed more like a sailor in his oilskin jacket. He frowned in confusion, looking between Ish lying on the street and me with my knife in hand. Then he trotted after his companions.

I stared down at Ish. He gave a bloody grin and spat out a tooth. Then I noticed his left arm still held up in a closed fist.

Steini's hold-fire signal.

I didn't understand.