Starving.
I am starving.
“Hey, Merle,” I jabbed his side and pointed to the tavern across the way, “We’ve been on patrol all morning, let’s stop for a bite to eat, eh?”
Usually I wouldn’t take a break this early in the afternoon, but we’d been patrolling the Lesser End. The denizens here wouldn’t approach a guardsman if the world was ending. Which made it the easiest station in the city -and I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. This area of Lesser End was distinctly less dingy than the rest, with multi-story buildings and roads that were, unusually, clear of rocks. After the rough riding this morning, where I had to actively guide Kensington around potholes, it’s a bit of a shame that this is the foot patrol area.
Merle was a new guardsman, fresh out of training last month. His looks were okay for a farm boy. His sword skills weren’t great, before I agreed to have him on patrol with me I insisted on sparring. He only won two out of five matches. Pathetic. But at least I am experienced, with three years as a guardsman under my belt. I figured the kid could learn something under me -despite his lacking skills.
The tavern in question looked good, the sign was simple wood -much like the rest of the façade. Simple was good, especially to me. Anything fancier -or dingier, often had clientele that guardsmen shouldn’t be socializing with in the light of day. The Thankless Flower. It’ll do. Walking in, Merle and I were greeted by a woman with skin a light shade of blue, pitch black eyes -pupil, iris, even where a human would have whites, and thick coiled hair. A bit unsettling, yes. But the rest looked perfectly suitable.
“Looking for food? Or drink?” She had a voice that made me think of a winter day. Not so much that it was audibly cold, rather when she spoke a light chill seeped into my skin. Ah. A ghoul.
“Food, but with a speck a’ drink too, ‘lady.” A sly grin on his face, Merle focused on the curves of the barmaid. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tilted my head to get him to actually follow her. It’d been too long a day to deal with his ogling before lunch.
Setting down a small chalkboard on a table, the woman gestured for us to sit, “I’m Marsha – when you’re ready tap the-“ she paused, looked over her shoulder to the rest of the tavern, nodded and said, “Actually, just yell.” With that, she swiped the chalkboards and grinned. The girl was a bit sinister if I must admit, but she quickly brought us mugs of beer. So, she was perfect in my book.
Looking around, I noticed that the tavern only had a few other patrons. The place only had ten or so tables -three of which were taken up. A couple was settled into the far corner by the fireplace, a group of teenagers was by the bar -something we should probably look into before leaving, and then there was us. Two of the king’s men. Focusing on the teenagers, I saw they were chatting with the barkeep, a taller, lanky man. He was facing the bottles against the wall, but every so often he would glance back to respond to the kids, with animated hand gestures. It seemed they were regulars -and annoying ones at that.
It didn’t take long to order, and it felt like it took even less time to actually get our food. Instead of Marsha, the barkeep brought out our food. As he handed us our plates, his eyes were focused on the table and his severe features were unmoving. Despite how young he’d seemed from the bar, I now saw the salt and pepper of his hair and the aged skin of his face. Looking up, he smiled, “Hope you enjoy.”
It was the smile. Recognition clicked in my head and I had to force a smile on my own face as I nodded thanks. It seemed that it took the man ages to make his way back to the bar, whacking one of the teenagers with a rag as he passed. In reality it was only a few heartbeats before he’d left.
With a whisper I looked to Merle, “Hey, does the barkeep look familiar to you?”
Merle looked over his shoulder briefly, scowled and looked back to me, “Maybe? Why?”
A memory flashed in the back of my mind. A long black cloak, daggers of shadow and blood, a madman’s grin.
“Have you heard of the Elder Berry?”
Merle’s eyes widened a fraction, and he lightly pointed toward the barkeep. Questioning. I nodded seriously, “I saw him years ago, the features match -I’m sure of it.”
Taking a deep breath, Merle closed his eyes. His muscles seemed to settle and when he opened them again, his voice was solid, “We’re two of the King’s men. It’s been years since he retired.”
Meeting his eyes, I grinned, “Even the worst of us can handle one old man who’s past his prime.”
Slamming my mug down, I stood, “Follow my lead.”
With that, we were both up and making our way to the bar, swords unsheathed as we approached.
Berry was trying to shoo the kids away from his bar, simultaneously he also tried to get a stubborn beer line off a glass. Gingerly, he scrubbed circles on the mug -still, his hands shook as he tightened his muscles to keep from dropping it. Frowning, he looked up to find the group of teenagers go pale as one of them -Avern, a name Berry resented he knew, jostled his friends to look behind them. The two guardsmen he’d just brought food to were headed this way.
With swords.
Briefly, Berry weighed the likelihood it was for one of the teenage delinquents in front of him. But, no, they may be annoying but it’s unlikely a guard would recognize them on sight. The young men and women weren’t even real criminals. Well, not to Berry. Who, for various reasons, was highly recognizable. And was likely the men’s target.
Sighing, he set down the mug and snapped his fingers. Looking back, one of the boys, Avern, had a questioning look. The other two who looked back had hard eyes, saying they wanted to fight. One of them was a young woman with deep red hair and a sharp smile, the other was a younger boy -no more than fourteen, who wore a too big shirt and often couldn’t pay for the food Berry fed him. Berry waved them away, “What? Are you looking for trouble now? Get lost -or at least out of the way.”
The girl, Berry thought he remembered her name -Mitch? Madge? He wasn’t certain. Although, if he took more than a half second to think of it, he would have remembered her name was Karta. And that names are not his forte. At his words, Karta reluctantly grabbed the younger boy and whacked the other three, “Come on. Headmistress’ll kill us if we get into another spat.”
Dragging the younger boy away, farther from the bar and closer to the fireplace, she looked back to Berry -though not really speaking to him, “We’ll wait it out.”
His eyes already focused on the guardsmen approaching the bar, Berry didn’t even notice Karta’s words. Calmly, he walked halfway out from behind the bar, and leaned against the outer edge, one arm casually laid, slowly reaching for something hard. With a smile he met the stern faces of the two King’s men, “Can I help you, friends?”
With a grunt, the taller of the two, pointed the tip of his sword at Berry, “You’re under arrest. Relinquish yourself to us without issue, you’re to be taken before the Grand Tribunal.”
“Ah, I see.” Berry smiled lightly and raised his hand from the bar.
It was only a few years ago now that the Elder Berry retired. So, it still looked natural. But his age betrayed him -as he held his knife out to us his hands were shaking. I suppose it makes sense then, that toward the end of his career the Elder Berry saw a lot less physical fighting. It’s rumored that even the King hadn’t seen his face for years.
But how could this… meek man in front of me be the legendary Elder Berry. For all that he was, now he appeared just elder. Still, he stood a head taller than me, but he had practically no muscle definition and looked barely functional. As I looked closer at him, I could see how the defined crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes were nothing compared to the lines marking his brow and mouth. Deep set lines. Not quite wrinkles. It was more like a reminder of the severe expressions of his youth. And for all that, he had aged well. It was odd, to me, to see such a dangerous man in such casual clothes. The boho style seemed suited for retirement -but this man had been a true villain. He had galivanted around Balad for years donning a slick black outfit and trench coat. Seeing him in loose brown pants and an equally loose cotton shirt didn’t jive with my impression of the man.
Well, in the end, I suppose that was my mistake. I had thought his appearance and generally cordial disposition meant he had gone soft. But, the Elder Berry, despite the shaking in his bones, pulled back his arm and flung his knife -directly into Merle’s eye.
Striking true, his blade brought the man down. Berry let a grin slide onto his face. It had been a while since he’d had a good, old-fashioned brawl. Maybe the two guardsmen could put up a decent fight. ‘One could hope,’ Berry muttered to himself. Surveying the two men seriously this time, Berry took in the strong build of the taller guard -he stood a decent bit above the other, now bleeding, man. He looked as if he was in his earlier twenties. In contrast, the other one didn’t look a day over eighteen. Likely, they were both green guardsmen. How unfortunate for them.
Berry sighed as he saw the younger guardsman, Merle, grip his eye -not quite keeping the blood from spilling onto his freshly cleaned floors. At least he’d dropped his sword in the process. That was something.
Still, today brought an even more unfortunate series of events for Berry himself. Being found by two of the King’s men in his own tavern? Annoying. Unexpected? Not really. What had really irked Berry is that the men started the fight before they had paid. Berry knew it would be several years before the King forgot the large sum Berry had taken from the national treasury. Still, it’s rather rude to stiff a small business owner. And, in Berry’s defense, he had given some of the gold to the Church of Oshad.
‘Not a lot, but some,’ Berry thought to himself before another knife slid into his palm. If it wasn’t for his aesthetic, Berry would have always worn flowing bohemian clothes when he was younger. Lots of hiding places for the things that really mattered -knives. And daggers. And, occasionally, a poison dart. Well, that and the fact that casual clothes were just so comfortable.
“Elder Berry, stand down. By the power of the King, you are to be brou-“ Before the prepubescent idiot got another word out, Berry sent his knife into the knight’s sword hand, forcing him to choke out a cry of pain. Well, what Berry thought was his sword hand. It was hard to tell when he had dropped his sword before getting out a single swing.
Although now that he looked a bit closer, Berry cursed under his breath. The kid had another sword on his hip. Who carries two swords? At least both of Merle’s hands were coated in blood now -and likely one was unable to gather the strength to wield a sword anyway. If Berry had measured his strength properly, which he was reasonably sure he had, the knife had gone straight through to Merle’s other eye.
Shocked out of silence, the taller guard looked from Merle to Berry, “I am Ashur, of the Old Moon Knighthood-“ pausing, he took a breath, “As is granted to me as a member of the order, I place upon you an additional charge of assault on a King’s guard. Two counts.”
Berry made a look of mock-shock, “Oh no! Had I known this would happen I definitely would not have done that!”
Ashur, who, in Berry’s opinion, was rather dense, nodded, “In which case, cease now and we will take you-” Ashur paused. Well, stopped talking. Mostly because he had to choke back a yelp as a small knife was lodged into the gap of his armor, landing solidly in his shoulder.
Berry threw a second knife, this time aiming for Ashur’s sword hand. This time, Ashur was unable to suppress a cry of pain as the knife lodged itself between the bones of his hand. With a yelp, the knight dropped the sword he’d been wielding and took a moment to stare at the blood dripping from the back of his hand before looking back at Berry.
It was brief, not more than a heartbeat or two, but my eyes went black with pain. I heard my sword clang against the ground as my grip faltered. As the pain washed over me, I clenched my fist, succeeding in causing it to bleed more -but the short knife dislodged itself from the flesh of my hand as I pulled it to my chest. Still, I had to compose myself. I was a man of the guard. One of the King’s men. I could not die here. I could not let a vicious man get away -Elder Berry or not.
Another heartbeat. I looked to him. The Elder Berry had another grin on his face. A mad man’s grin. Had I been a weaker man, or not already in the midst of the fight, I would have shivered. It was less about what he truly looked like -yes, his face was severe -yes, his aim was unerring -yes, his grin was out of place. But. But still, he hadn’t truly hesitated the whole time. A man who can grin during a fight was a man who wasn’t afraid to die.
Shaking myself, I released my bloody hand. My good hand was slick with blood as well -but that wasn’t enough to dampen my skill. Grabbing the hilt at my thigh, I withdrew a dagger. While not as powerful as a sword, I had the dagger enchanted long ago. It would not fail me. The magic bestowed upon the steel blade created a specter blade three times as long. Whipping my arm out in front of me, I felt the piercing again and let out a growl -trying to suppress the agony. Clenching my teeth through the pain, I refused to let go of my remaining dagger gripped at my side.
As I pointed, the blood –my blood, dripped to the floor, and I could hear Merle stirring to my side. Very well. The time for talking was over.
“Brace yourself, villain. We will be exacting your sentence.” As one, Merle and I went to charge.
And found we were unable to move.
“Oh? Will you now?”
“Tell me how, exactly, you plan to do that?” Berry let his grin slide into an exaggerated frown, “Sorry to inform you Sir King’s Lackey, but it would appear you valiant knights are indisposed.”
Berry watched as both men stood frozen -perched as if the men could spring at him any moment. Berry knew they wouldn’t -couldn’t.
“Tsk, tsk,” Berry took a step away from the bar, unafraid of the men, “It would appear you brought blades to a magic fight. A shame. Truly.”
Frozen, the guardsmen stared at him. Though they could hear him, they were unable to respond. Berry approached Ashur, looking down his nose at the blue-eyed guardsman. He leaned in close enough that Ashur could feel Berry’s breath.
And Berry blinked, all expression sliding off his face as he felt the pain of it hit him.
“Well, shit.”
Berry looked at his abdomen as an invisible force pushed his shirt into his body -all the while red spread across the cloth. Taking a step back, Berry pressed into the stab wound with one hand.
And he muttered.
“I believe I have just been shanked.”
Berry flicker his other hand, closing his eyes. Mudra. Berry held the word in his mind. He focused on the runic symbols making up the spell. He traced them. Over and over he pulled them into reality -circling them around his free hand until there was a wrapping of repeating runes around his finger -looped around his palm -clinging to his wrist. They glowed orange and should anyone but Berry look at them, they would have felt a stinging not unlike that of staring at the noonday sun. Ashur and Merle could feel the heat radiating towards them, a sweat beginning to break out.
After a moment, Berry replaced one hand for the other. Eyes still closed, his whole body tensed, a deep frown settling onto his face. A tightness was there, in that moment. As the excruciating pain radiated from the stab wound. Berry didn’t know any healing magic. No. But he knew pain, that was one of the skills he earned. And this pain was necessary. After two agonizing moments, he pulled his hand away, leaving a singed shirt practically burned into his flesh.
Now, a tired grin slid onto his face, a grin with a tad too much teeth, “How about we call it a day, eh?”
Between one breath and the next, Berry disappeared. His body faded into a cloud of black dust, blowing in a thousand different direction around the room.
He was gone. Dispersed. I couldn’t move my neck to look around, but still I didn’t feel his presence. We were left here to rot, frozen.
Then there he was. I could hear the creak of wood underfoot as he stepped behind us.
And then there was darkness.
Berry slid his head between the two men, still statues, and with a larger than necessary flourish Berry slid his daggers across their throats.
Pulling his hands away, he dropped the blades in his hands -much like they appeared, they fell away into dust before hitting the ground. Turning to the rest of the tavern, the couple in the corner, the teenagers by the fire, he let a smile take form.
“Sorry about that -as an apology, your bill is on me!” Berry’s smile wasn’t sinister, it didn’t have too much teeth, it wasn’t a mad man’s grin. It was just a smile, and the man wearing it looked like any other man. And, though the patrons of The Thankless Flower looked like any other law abiding citizens, they were unbothered by the turn of events. It wasn’t much different than any other day at the tavern. The couple had done much worse, while the teenagers dreamed of being that vile.
If she could have, Marsha would have forced the men to clean up their own blood. It was bad enough she was the one who had to drag the men out of the city. It had taken her over an hour, even with the charm of invisibility Berry had given her. Marsha sighed as she stared at the pools of blood that had gathered on the floor. Being a barmaid was supposed to mean handling idiots and drunks, sometimes both in one. Not blood. She hated blood.
Berry was in the process of dumping two pouches onto the counter. Pouches he had relieved the guardsmen of before forcing Marsha to drag them out. Pouches that contained money. Marsha looked over to him and he took a moment to meet her gaze and grin.
“At least they didn’t dine and dash, eh?”
Mop in hand, she grimaced at Berry and shoved the mop towards him.
“I’m not cleaning this up. You made this mess.” Marsha’s voice brought a chill with it, and though Berry was unaffected that didn’t mean the other patrons couldn’t feel it. The couple who had been huddled by the fireplace earlier inched a bit closer and the teenage delinquents squeezed a bit closer -trying to sap warmth from the each other.
“Hey – what do I pay you for?” Berry said, trying to push the mop back over to her. He was having a hard time actually getting it to her from behind the bar.
“Whatever you do pay me isn’t enough for all of,” she gestured vaguely around her, “this.”
Though she didn’t have blood per say, if one looked close enough they would see the light blue of her skin deepen at the tips of her ears and on her cheeks. Irritating. She scowled in Berry’s general direction.
“Eh, a mere bar fight.” Berry shrugged and gave up on the mop after it fell to the ground. He would rather count the money anyway.
Marsha sighed, again. And tried to restrain herself. Which was particularly difficult due to the fact that Marsha was a ghoul. Or, more specifically, Marsha was a poltergeist. Meaning she had a bit of temper by default -and a penchant for vengeance.
“I’ll pay you time and a half for your shift today?” Berry let a lazy smile find its way onto his face as he stared at the sum in front of him. He was in a particularly good mood. The guardsmen had left a considerable tip for their disturbance.
Marsha narrowed her eyes, which was disturbing if only for the fact that it caused her face to have two pitch black lines instead of vaguely eye shaped black voids, “Double. You’ll pay me double for today.”
Berry’s voice was energetic, and he clapped his hands together, looking up from the bar, “Deal! Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ Berry stepped back from the bar but he didn’t pull his hands apart -rather, he began rubbing the back of his throwing hand, “I think my arthritis is acting up. Did you see my aim? Embarrassing.”
AlloraLee Writes 