Hammer and Feather Ch. 52-57

Notes: 1) If you see this story anywhere but Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 2) Because of shorter chapters, this is being posted in chunks.

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*Fifty-two*

Kwes tried not to laugh as one of the deserters thrust a bag of coins at Syreilla.

"You'll need money, Lady Rook."

"You'll need to cover your ears too." The other one swallowed and looked at the ground as she turned an offended look on the man. "I-Not-It's-"

"They'll attack you, Lady," the other one spoke earnestly.

"I know." Syreilla shook her head and sighed.

"She was a legendary thief when she was mortal," Kwes spoke up with a grin. "Lady Rook knows how to keep out of sight."

The one who had been stuttering, found his voice again, "If you-if you go to the right when you get in the gate Lady, those are the inns most people go to who want to join. They're cheap. Merchants and nobles go to the better inns on the left-hand side. It's-there's a market just inside the city gate and you have to go through to-"

"I remember. I've been here before. Can you still walk all the way to the temple if you keep out of sight?"

"No, Lady." He looked surprised. "There are gates and checkpoints."

"She's changed it since the last time my father and I robbed her temple!" Syreilla grinned and the deserters stared in disbelief. "This should be fun."

Kwes watched her peek into the purse and pull out a few coins, tossing them to the men.

"If you have to fall back on thievery again, don't kill anyone and never harm a child. Keep to that and put a feather in your pocket, I'll give you a little bit of luck. I don't expect you to become pious beggars, but you should learn to be better men or you'll have longer than you ever thought possible to regret it."

At her nod, both men bolted. He watched as she smiled at the little brown bird, "See what you can see," and sent it into the air.

"She'll do a little scouting for us and I'll help you as much as I can. You're going to need a distraction."

"Let's get inside and find a meal first." Kwes felt ready to get to work. "You can tell me about how you did this the last time as we make our way in."

She laughed and they stepped out of the tree cover and onto the road. "Last time I had to take a couple of runs at it. They had soldiers watching the streets from balconies but no checkpoints. I had to go up and over the rooftops. They still almost stopped me before I got to the puzzle temple. I like this place, it's a challenge." Her words rang true and he grinned.

Syreilla pulled her hair back making it look shorter and concealing her ears before she pulled a hood out of a pocket and donned it for good measure. He watched her kneel to adjust her boot and then rub her face. When she stood she tugged on her jacket and cloak adjusting their position and making herself look more like a young man than he expected her to be able to. Even her walk changed to a confident stride that looked masculine but still very natural.

"How long did you spend with our father? I don't think he taught me how to do that walk." He gave her a once over as she turned, grinning. Something about her seemed strange, as if she were lying without saying a word.

"I think he spent most of sixty years with me? But he had me learn from every good thief he could find too. I picked this up from a thief by the name of Daethra Vaylin. She used to cut my hair so that I could pass as a boy when I was too young to pass as a grown woman and then she taught me to pull up my hair so I could pass as either the way she did.

"A woman in work clothes gets noticed, a man doesn't. Sometimes you want to be a man to get into certain places or to pass unchallenged, and sometimes a woman can get into places easier. It's harder for a man to pass as a woman than it is for a woman to pass as a man. We had the advantage."

"I don't think I've ever heard of her."

"She was killed by a mage," Syreilla's brow furrowed, "well over a hundred years before you were born, Magpie. Everyone called her Vaylin the Knife, and she was quick with one if you crossed her, but not many knew she was a woman."

A stray thought escaped from his mouth, "I wonder if that was what they meant. They used to say, 'Don't take jobs for mages unless you're quicker than the knife.' I thought they meant don't take those jobs unless you're willing to risk getting killed instead of paid."

"Both I would think. It was a young mage that thought he could kill her instead of paying her. She was a friend and I took it personally."

He saw the flames in the depths of her eyes and nodded. There was no need to ask what had happened to the mage, he was sure he didn't want to know.

No one looked at them twice as they approached the gate and went into the market. Syreilla bought a handful of small dried sausages and happily tucked them into her pockets and he settled on some sort of buttery bread filled with gods only knew what and baked, purchased from a street vendor. Kwes bought two and gave her one.

They ate them as they made their way to the shabby inns on the right-hand side of the gate. He started toward one of the cleaner places but she grabbed his arm and steered him to the worst of them. Disreputable-looking men were loitering close to the door and he heard someone boasting about how many elves his brother had killed as they paid a few coppers to get a single room for both of them.

The floors were filthy as they were led to their room by a skinny boy of perhaps ten. Syreilla gave the child two coins and whispered in his ear before he left smiling.

"What did you say to him?"

"I sent him to get two of those bread things and told him to eat one himself. If he brings one back I'll split it with you."

"One was enough." Settling onto the bed he grinned at her, "To be clear, you're not going to drop me in a cell or-"

"That was Father, Magpie." She gave him an exasperated smile. "I do things differently."

"I want your word, you're going to let me steal these stones."

She broke into laughter and then inclined her head, "I give you my word, they're yours to steal. I'll be the distraction and keep her eye on me as much as I can. And to help you..." Syreilla gave him the coin back.

Kwes turned it over in his hand with a smile, knowing she meant it, "You're sure it should work now?"

"It will. Call for me if you need me, Magpie. I'll come, I promise you." The words rang true but he would have guessed as much, she'd come when he called and he hadn't had one of her sigils.

"It does look different, but..." He looked at it more closely. "You added a wreath and the hammer is blackened?"

"That's my dwarven banner. It should be blue, and the wreath green, but leaving the coin mostly without color makes it easier for people to see just a normal coin. The important part of it is the feather. That is my sigil."

He grinned at her, "The feather in the picture is the sigil and not the hammer and wreath? You can do that?"

"Why not? I have a feeling your daughter might turn the feather I gave her into a bracelet. The feather is what's important, the form or the designs with it can vary as far as I'm concerned." Syreilla laughed as he put on a thoughtful expression.

"It would be easier for her to carry around, not everyone sticks things down their fronts like you do."

"You can steal a bracelet off of someone's wrist, you'd have a more difficult time reaching your hand down my front."

"I'd call you dwarvish but I don't think they'd have two husbands and share a bed with both at once." Kwes tucked his coin away as she shrugged.

"I know a dwarf who has a few wives, I've never asked if he's gone to bed with more than one at once, but it does sound very elvish doesn't it? My husbands are deeply fond of elves. They picked up all kinds of perversions from associating with Rielle's priestesses when Vezar was a King."

She grinned at the flat look he gave her. "I'll explain to you why I don't like brothels sometime, little brother. Teasing you about being an elf while my ears are the ones with the points on is too much fun right now."

"I remember you once said you had an unpleasant personality, I see that now." He tried not to smile as she widened her grin and nodded enthusiastically, it made her look foolish and at the same time he could tell that it was a lie, an act being put on, like the way she'd adjusted her clothes.

The sparrow returned to the window and eyed them curiously.

"This will be your guide. Listen to her and to your instincts. The huntress might leave a window open but there will be something deadly on the other side of it. Think before you work-"

"And don't rest-"

"No. Find a way to rest safely. Sometimes a little rest is what you need. Don't tell the old man I said that, he'll blister my ears, but it's true."

The words had a peculiar resonance and he nodded with a smile. "I'll remember. I have your sigil, if I run into trouble I can call you."

She'll take that sigil and use it against you if she catches him. You shouldn't give it to him. The little brown bird fluttered into the room eyeing them.

"Is it that dangerous?" Kwes frowned and looked at Syreilla.

"In the hands of a god or a well-trained mage? Yes. But you need it in case something goes wrong."

"Take it. I can't put you and Father both at risk." He drew it back out of his pocket.

"Keep it." Syreilla pressed it into his palm with a reassuring smile. "When you hold it in your hand you may be able to see things a little more clearly. But if you get too worried that you're going to get caught with it, call on Father. He can take it back. I can't leave you to do this alone unless I know you can call on me."

He took a deep breath and then gave her a curt nod, she was speaking the truth. "Be safe, Syreilla."

"I've never been good at that part, I'm better at being hard to kill." She grinned again almost viciously, "You be safe and if you can't be, be fucking cunning."

Kwes smiled despite himself, "I can do at least one of those things."

She slipped out of the window the way the bird had come in.

"Do you have a name?" He looked at the bird who was staring after his sister.

Itia. She's really leaving you?

The name made the hair rise on the back of his neck. "She is. She trusts me to do what I say I can. And you... She trusts you to guide me?"

I won't cross her. We struck a bargain and we understand one another. If I guide you to where you need to be and keep you safe, I'll have peace. If I can offer more help than that... I won't have to remember any of my life or after it and I can try again. I want to redeem myself.

"I trust her vision, if she thinks you can... Forgive me if I'm a little wary."

My mother warped me, but it's no excuse for the things I did. I can see that now. Death... It gives you a new perspective.

"I can see where it might." The bird's words were true, he could hear it. "Using your name might draw attention, is there anything else I can call you?"

I had a sister, a mortal sister, named Ilyn. I loved her... Call me by her name.

"Alright, what's the layout inside, Ilyn."

You have to get there first. This is the outer city. Only soldiers can go into the inner city, at the center of that is the temple. That's where she kept the stones. But...

"But?"

She had talked about wanting to put them in a garden that belonged to the King of the gods. There was a larger stone there with more power that she could tap into if she put them close enough. She needed to find something before she could do that though.

"Can you take a peek and see if what we came for is still there? If they aren't then..."

They are. I looked. But they're not in their fittings anymore. She has them laid out by the window.

Kwes took a moment to think, "Are they the stones or do they just look like the stones?"

I don't know. I'm not... I'm a bird, I can't feel the power anymore.

He beckoned her over and when she landed on his wrist on top of the bracelet he smiled faintly, "Do you feel anything now?"

Yes. It feels like a sigil.

"If you didn't feel anything from the stones, and she knows my sister is using rooks..."

They're a trap. She's moved them.

"Yes. I suddenly feel very unsafe here. Let's go."

Tucking the bird gently into the brown cowl he was wearing and grabbing his bag, he headed for the door. There was a sound like feet shuffling on the other side and he turned on his heel heading for the window. He slipped out of it the way Syreilla had. She must have known or suspected that things weren't quite right.

As he made his way down the ragged woodwork, it took only a moment, he was thankful that none of the loiterers were in the cramped alley. He grabbed a damaged basket lying discarded in the alleyway and headed for the gate, blending in with the farm peasants straggling back out to go home for the day. It would be safer to find a place outside the walls to decide his next move.

Kwes walked with them as if he knew where he was going until one girl gave him an odd look.

"You, who are you and why are you walking with us?"

"I went to the city hoping to find some work but..." He shrugged, "My name is Edun, Edun Rocan. I'm hoping-"

"You're hoping we'll take pity on you and feed you, maybe let you sleep in a barn for the night?" She gave him a scathing look.

"I can sing for my supper and I know a few stories, good ones. I had an uncle who was a traveling storyteller. Mum just called him a-"

"Good for nothing?" The girl's expression relaxed into amusement.

"He was her brother, if he hadn't been she'd have chased him out with the broom when he'd spend the winter with us. My elder brother got the farm and he was always angry that our mum coddled me a bit-"

"He tossed you out?"

"He did. I've been looking for work since. I've found a few small things but I'm finding out why my uncle took up storytelling. When there's nothing else, people always like a good story or two and a meal isn't too high a price."

"You could join the Iscan Army."

"I thought about it." He winced. "But there was a man at the inn boasting about cutting off the ears of a little elf girl. I wouldn't last a week. It doesn't matter if it's an elf or a human if it's a child. I'd have to say something or try to keep them from harming the poor thing and I'd end up dead or worse."

She nodded. "You're too slim to fight anyway. I bet your mum coddled you because you were sickly."

"She called me delicate." He let his shoulders slump slightly as the girl laughed.

"You can follow me home, Edun. My da would enjoy a story or two, I think, and I can feed you for the night. You'll have to be on your way in the morning though."

"That's fair. What's your name?"

"Evecia."

"What kind of stories would he like to hear? My uncle liked to tell stories about the gods, about thieves, about-"

She started to laugh again.

"He likes stories about how the war is going. My brothers went off to fight for King Aleyval. Stories about Lady Rook-"

"Which one?"

Evecia looked at him in puzzlement.

"In the stories my uncle told, the old stories, Lady Rook, Syreilla the Rook, was a daughter of Odos. She was a thief who was so gifted that her uncle, the cursed god of death, resurrected her to serve him. She became a goddess of righteous vengeance and the protector of gentle souls. He said thieves would carry a feather for luck because he let her intervene on behalf of anyone who came to him with a feather asking for her to.

"But that isn't the story I've heard about the Lady Rook at the front. I don't think they're the same."

"She was a goddess but she died? Can a god's children die?" Evecia looked baffled.

"If they're half-mortal. The whole story makes more sense, or it did to me. That was just a part of it."

Itia stirred under his cowl and the girl walking with him stopped him to peel it back.

"You have a bird?"

"Uncle Selles said to carry a feather for good luck, I have a whole bird." He laughed and shook his head. "It wasn't flying well, I didn't know what was wrong with it, so I picked it up to nurse it back to health. The little thing is doing better but it hasn't flown away and it seems to like riding where it's warm and safe."

"I heard some of the soldiers talk about poisoning birds in the city today." She frowned and stroked the little brown bird. "It seemed cruel."

She seems sweet. Don't get her into difficulty. Itia's song was understandable to him but Evecia gasped and looked delighted.

"It sounds so pretty! The poor little thing. I'll make sure it has something to eat and drink too."

"You're very kind."

*Fifty-three*

Syr slipped out of the window Itia had flown in and climbed up to the roof. As she expected, there was a man on a roof almost directly across from her looking at her incredulously. The buildings were too far apart for a human to leap and it would have been pushing it for an elf. She grinned madly at the man, dropping her hood and pushing her hair behind her ears so that he would see them, before she headed toward the hatch in the roof. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the wide gestures he made.

No cry went up but when she opened the hatch she heard people coming as if summoned. Giving the man another grin she closed it and made a show of leaping to the next rooftop on her side. His eyes stayed riveted to her as she tried a hatch two roofs over.

Armed men looked surprised as she opened it and laughed, closing it on them. Stepping back, it flew open and they poured out. Men came from other hatches moments later staring at her incredulously from the surrounding rooftops.

"How did an elf get here?"

"Half-elf and I go wherever I want to go. It wasn't long ago that even elves could go anywhere they pleased."

"We'll see how much you're laughing when we-"

Syreilla grinned and cast a holding ward at his feet, pulling a little from her talons. "I may have forgotten to mention that I'm also a goddess. I am Syreilla the Rook, the Golden Rook, daughter of Odos, goddess of righteous vengeance, and protector of gentle souls.

"You may call me Lady Rook. Be warned, I'm not the False Rook and I don't tolerate rudeness."

"You come here so boldly after what you did on the field?" Isca scowled as she came out of the hatch. "Go back to your posts. Lady Rook and I will have this discussion privately."

"But..." One of the men swallowed as Isca turned a cool look on him and pointed at the man still standing in place.

The goddess of war pushed him and he shuddered, falling over with a whimper.

"That's one of my nicer wards, why do they make those sounds?" Syr folded her arms and put on a baffled frown as the man was dragged away hurriedly.

Isca smirked and shook her head, "Your idea of nice can give men nightmares, my girl. You came here for the stones yourself? And you don't even bother to hide?"

"You're not going to have them somewhere easy, like your temple. If you do, you might as well give them to me now." She grinned as the goddess' face soured. "No, I'm not here about that today. You broke your word to me, Isca. I came to let you know that I went home to have a good hard look at your daughter."

The goddess' jaw clenched.

"She was plenty tarnished but the worst of it all was what you did to her."

"What did you do, Rook?"

"I pulled back the veil and let her look at herself, at her life, at you, and all you encouraged her to do. You cast her aside and left her to me when it would have been so easy to ensure she had peace. All she wants now is to stop remembering, to be able to forget the horrors-"

Isca lashed out with her fist. "I will destroy you and everything you love for that."