Harrow's Wife Ch. 03

Harrow walked ahead of her, half his face bound up in a rudimentary bandage, occasionally yanking the rope that was tethered to her wrists, keeping up the appearance of an impatient slave-owner and his latest acquisition. Skeeter Flats did a thriving business in the slave-trade; the wide, flat-bottomed barges that worked the Skrit river allowed for a constant flow of inventory. She hoped she would pass unnoticed - just another unfortunate soul on her way to an unpleasant fate.

And if they should be discovered? Well, she had renewed the Bond with Harrow earlier that morning, so she'd have her magic available to handle any immediate problems. But magic would draw plenty of attention, and that was the last thing either of them wanted in a place like Skeeter Flats.

They walked for a while, and although Gwen could hear the voices of the villagers, none hailed them, and shortly before noon he brought them to a stop. Gwen peered out from under the cowl and saw they were outside a large stone-and-wood building, but more than that she couldn't say. The owners would have to be well-off to have a stone foundation in the middle of the swampy Flats!

"Whatever happens, say nothing and make no sound. Keep your head down and remain still," Harrow said.

She nodded her understanding.

He banged on the door and she heard it open.

"What's yer business?" said a woman's voice, strong and confident.

"Lana here?" Harrow replied.

"Who's askin'?"

"Old friend."

"Ya got a name?"

"Randy."

"Ha! Nice. Wait yerself right here." The door slammed shut.

Several minutes passed before the door opened again.

"Around back. Mind the drunks," the same woman said, then the door banged again.

Harrow tugged the rope gently and led them around the outside of the building. It was quite a size - perhaps it had been a barn originally. They entered through a back door where they were met by a woman and taken down a long, narrow, dim hallway.

They passed many small rooms, and Gwen could hear low moans and high-pitched, lusty cries through the walls. Boisterous laughter and bawdy catcalls. Men and women together nudged past them in the halls and even from under her low cowl Gwen could tell they were scantily clad, the women in scandalously thin shifts with bare feet, men bare-legged as well. It wasn't long before the truth became obvious.

Harrow had brought her to a brothel.

Finally they were admitted to a cramped room, lit only by a tiny window high on the wall. Furnishings were sparse - a lumpy, stained, straw-stuffed mattress, a rickety side table with a single half-melted candle stub, and a coat-stand. It wasn't difficult to imagine the kind of business conducted there.

The woman left them alone and they stood in silence. All around them, the grunts and squeals of eager rutting were scarcely muffled by the thin walls.

Finally the door to the room opened and a woman stepped in; her plain, gray linen dress went all the way to her ankles. More than that was obscured by the cowl Gwen wore.

"Harrow, you stupid ass!" The woman hissed, clearly wary of being overheard through the porous walls. "Have you lost your goddamned wits?"

"Nice to see you again, Lana."

"Showing up here of all places, with a five-hundred Crown bounty on your neck?"

"Five hundred?" he whispered. Gwen could hear the disbelief in his tone.

"You didn't know?"

"Uh-uh. Been keeping a low profile."

"Everyone in the lower mainland is searching for you. I'm tempted to hand you over myself. I could live like a queen with that kind of money."

"And you'd have The Order to thank for it."

The other woman hocked and spit on the floor. "I'd cut out my own tongue before I'd thank those goat-fuckers for anything. Anyway, is it true? Did you really kill The Hound?"

Gwen was shocked at how quickly the news had spread. Somehow it had preceded them to Skeeter Flats!

"Yup. He was more bark than bite. A magic sword, and not much else to him."

"Did he suffer? Please tell me he suffered." Lana's hushed voice quivered with excitement.

Harrow hesitated. "Well, there were seven of them, Lana. I couldn't take my time. I tried to make it hurt as much as I could."

Lana sighed. "Well, the dirty shit-licker is dead. That's the main thing, I guess. Best news I've had in ten years. And I suppose this is the witch? Gwen, right?"

"Yeah. Gwen, this is Lana, a good friend from way back."

Gwen figured she could reveal herself and pulled back the voluminous cowl. Lana wasn't a young thing, but not yet old - maybe in her late twenties, ten years Gwen's junior. She was voluptuous, with long, dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed alight with a keen intelligence. Gwen gave her a brief nod and smile. Lana returned the gesture, then the smile faded and she turned back to Harrow.

"There's two-hundred Crowns on her neck. You two are a goddamn gold mine walking around together. Don't get me wrong - it's great to see you and I'd love to get caught up - but you better get your hairy ass out of my place. How many people saw you come in here? A dozen? Fifty? God's balls, Harrow!"

"I need help," he said.

"Impossible. You're too hot right now. It's my neck on the block if anyone even suspects-"

"Do you still run a barge up to Radu for the Harvest Festival?

Lana paused. "Of course. It's good money for the girls."

"Can you take Gwen with you?"

"What?" Gwen and Lana said in unison. Lana recovered first.

"Have your brains turned to shit? I can see that witch-brand on her cheek from five hundred paces."

"So keep it covered."

"For four days? On a crowded barge with fifteen girls? Let's be clear - I trust my ladies, Harrow - but for two-hundred Crowns? They'd give her up. They'd be idiots not to. I don't even need the money and I'm tempted to turn the witch in myself. No offense," she said with a quick nod to Gwen.

"None taken. Two-hundred Crowns is more than most see in a lifetime," Gwen said, realizing how hopeless her position was. No one would help her now, and with such a high bounty every man, woman and child in the five lands would be on the lookout. Any sort of travel would be impossible. Ana might actually be safer on her own, rather that being in the company of a witch so aggressively hunted.

Harrow held up his hands, a calming gesture. He faced Lana.

"Have you ever heard of the Drugaan of Dal-Zannigan?"

"No."

"He's a royal emissary from the Dry Lands, east of the mountains. A close personal friend of our own Prince Oakwood. The two of them fought the Reavers together and they've been fast friends ever since."

"Okay. So?"

"He'll be in attendance at the Harvest Festival. He comes down every year - he's an honoured guest of the Prince."

"And?"

"Every year when he visits, he buys another wife. The nobility in the Dry Lands take several wives each, and the Drugaan has a preference for the pale-skinned women of the lower mainland. But he's very particular - the woman has to be a virgin, and can't be touched by a man or left alone in the company of a man after the purchase has been arranged. In fact, if the woman's bare skin is even SEEN by a man, the sale is called off and both the Drugann and our own Prince Oakwood will be extremely upset. It would cause an uproar in the palace for sure. It's a matter of national pride."

Gwen gave a frustrated sigh. "What does any of that have to do with-"

"So the virgin bride would be clothed head to toe at all times, face veiled, and would travel only in female company," Lana said. She wore a thoughtful expression.

Gwen caught on then, a little embarrassed to be the last one.

"Yup. And she'd have a note of passage, imprinted with the royal seal."

"Where would we get that?" Gwen asked.

"Easily done," Harrow said, with a quick wink in her direction.

"Really?"

"No common soldier we'd encounter during the trip would know what the royal seal looks like. We could use anything," Lana explained, with a patient smile. "I'm not even sure there IS such a thing as a royal seal."

"Wait...wait. I don't want to go to Radu, that's way too far north. Plus, everyone in the world will be there during the Harvest Festival," Gwen said.

"I'm hoping it will be easier to go south from Radu than it will be to get north from here. The Order will be watching the northern routes because they know we're down here. They might not be watching the southern routes from Radu since they have no reason to suspect we'd be coming from up there," Harrow said.

"Well...perhaps," Gwen said.

"And they won't think to look in Radu during the Harvest Festival, since they know we'll want to avoid crowds and keep a low profile. Radu is the last place they'd search for us."

"What if I get spotted by an ordinary citizen?"

"If you stick with Lana's ladies the risk is small. Most of the men they see are either drunk or in a hurry, and most want to keep a low profile themselves."

Gwen paused, thinking through Harrow's reasoning, searching for a flaw. After a few moments she had to concede that his plan wasn't too bad. There were no safe options anymore, and his plan was perhaps the least dangerous of the lot.

"It'll take four days to get to Radu, and we'll be there a week," Lana said.

"I'll meet you in Radu before you have to leave."

"How will YOU get there?" Gwen asked.

He shrugged. "I'll stick to the wooded areas and travel at night. If I'm alone I can be fast and quiet."

"Didn't you just say they'll be watching the northern routes?"

"They'll be looking for two people travelling together, not a lone person. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I should be able to manage. It won't be my first time sneaking through dangerous territory."

There was a silence then as the three of them mulled the plan. There was one part of it that still bothered Gwen.

"Forgive me, Lana, but what do you get out of all this? You'd be taking an awful risk. I'd like to believe it's out of the goodness of your heart, but..."

"You've been hanging around with mercenaries too long, love," Lana laughed and patted Gwen's shoulder roughly. "Three things. I get to fuck The Order in the ass, dry and hard. I'd be sorely tempted to help you for that reason alone. I owe a debt to Harrow and I'm happy for a chance to pay it off. And finally...I assume there's going to be some gold coming my way as well?" Lana looked meaningfully at Harrow.

He grinned. "Twenty Crowns. Half now, half when I pick up the goods in Radu."

"Where did you get twenty Crowns?" Gwen asked, incredulous, ignoring for the moment that he'd referred to her as 'the goods'.

"Twenty-five years fighting wars for other people."

Lana nodded slowly. "For twenty Crowns it's worth the risk. I've got a couple of conditions."

"Go on."

Lana turned to Gwen. "First, you do what I say at all times, no fuss. I'm going to have my hands full herding fifteen girls and handling a thousand little details. I don't need problems from you added in."

Gwen didn't say anything right away. The idea of being separated from Harrow when danger pressed on all sides was uncomfortable. Putting her life in the hands of a prostitute she'd only just met made the feeling worse. But she didn't see any better options. It was either this or abandon her daughter to the Guardsmen that hunted her.

"I agree," she said.

"Good. Now, tell me about your magic. What can you do, exactly?" Lana asked.

Gwen glanced at Harrow and got a nod in return.

"Not much, really. The witch-brand seals the magic inside me."

"You said 'not much' - you still have some magic available, then?"

"A tiny amount. Why do you want to know?"

"If we get in a pinch I want to know what the options are," Lana said.

"She can form a magical Bond with me and draw on my power. Through the Bond she can summon and control water and flame," Harrow said.

Gwen was both unnerved and reassured that Harrow felt comfortable sharing the information so freely. He believed they could trust Lana, and surely he was no fool.

"Not only water and flame - it has dozens of uses. But the Bond only lasts until dawn the next day, and Harrow needs to be close by to use the magic. Probably not too useful for our purposes," Gwen added. She didn't want Lana relying on magic to keep them safe.

"Hmm. Well, good to know in any case." Lana turned to Harrow. "Okay, we'll do it. Leave the gold and get gone. Every moment you're here I age a year from worry. And do NOT let anyone see you leave."

"Wait...so soon?" Gwen said, shocked at how quickly the decision had been made. They'd only met Lana a few minutes ago and Harrow was leaving? She felt fear welling up - things were moving forward at a terrifying speed.

Harrow grabbed Gwen and pulled her into a tight hug. "Be brave and do what Lana says. I'll be in Radu in eight days. Nine at most. Keep your wits about you."

"Travel safely, Harrow." she whispered, returning his embrace in full measure.

And then he was gone.

*

In all the times she'd pictured how she'd rescue Ana, Gwen never imagined she'd be naked in a dirty shed around the corner from a brothel, being dressed by a prostitute. But she stood still as Lana carefully wrapped her in white linens, tying and pinning the fabric so it hung in folds and bunches from her hips and wrapped around her bare legs.

"We want it to look foreign and exotic," Lana explained. "You're to be a bride in faraway Dal-Zannigan after all. Being all in white makes you look more...virginal."

She had to be fully dressed before Lana 'presented' her to the girls. Hopefully none of them would suspect the truth.

"It's lucky that Harrow knew about the friendship between the Drugaan and Prince Oakwood," Gwen said, hoping conversation would make her feel less awkward.

Lana chuckled. "I doubt there is a Drugaan. Harrow likely made him up."

"Who could make up a story like that? It must be true."

"Harrow can do three things better than any man I ever met: kill, fuck and spin tales. That bastard can tell a story that would put most bards to shame."

"But...I know he's been to the Dry Lands. He brought back seeds..." Even as she said it, Gwen was questioning whether he'd been truthful about the rydel leaves.

"Oh, I'm sure he's been. He always weaves a couple of truths into his yarns to make them more believable." Lana was smiling; Harrow was clearly a favourite topic. "Whenever he'd pay us a visit, back in the day, we girls would gather around him and he'd tell stories of faraway lands, bizarre people and terrifying monsters. Even the old house Mistress would be there, hanging on every word, only dragging herself away when a caller came by. I'm sure it was mostly horse-shit, but we'd gobble it up like cherry pie."

"So you first knew him in a...professional capacity?" Gwen said, trying to be delicate.

Lana laughed at that. "He'd show up a couple times a week when he was in town. Every girl in the place would be clamoring to get him between her legs."

Gwen blushed at the language. "He must have paid well."

"He paid good, treated the girls good. His men did, too. The Riders were a fine bunch to have around."

"I'm betting you were his favourite."

"I tried to be. Tried real hard. I did things with Harrow they don't have names for - things I didn't do for no one else. Of course, he gave as good as he took - loved to get his hands dirty, as they say. Best part was, he'd pay for the whole night. He didn't just use you and leave, you know? He'd stay after, have a drink, sleep with his arm around you. It felt...warm...and..." Lana trailed off; her expression had become wistful.

"It sounds...nice," Gwen said, not sure if that was the right word. The memory was a good one for Lana, and that's what counted. "How did you end up in his debt?"

The smile faded and Lana's expression turned stormy. "The Order rode into town one day, decided brothels weren't suitable for their holy standards. Grabbed the house Mistress, accused her of being a witch. Said all her girls were guilty of associating with witches, rounded them all all up. My sister and I hid. Maybe we should have run but we were scared."

"Your sister was...in the business too?"

Lana nodded. "The house Mistress took us both in when we had nowhere else to go. Anyway, The Order found my sister. Would have found me too except that Harrow got to me first and took me to safety. I owe him for that."

"What happened to your sister?" Gwen asked, afraid to ask but also desperate to know. Ana would face similar treatment if they caught her.

"They gave her twenty-years of hard labour, but Liz hung herself in her cell before they could ship her out. She had the last laugh, at least."

Gwen hesitated, then reached down and grabbed Lana's hand tightly. "The Order will suffer for this, Lana. With my last breath I'll make them pay for what they've done to you and Liz. To my daughter Ana."

Lana met her eyes and a solemn moment passed between them. Then Lana shook her head. "Don't go getting ahead of the plan. First we've got to get you to Radu. That'll be a little miracle all on its own."

*

Gwen spent a few days lying on a smelly mattress, locked in a tiny, dim room in the brothel, shrouded in white linen and listening to the coarse, profane sounds that came through the walls at her. The full range of business conducted there was clearly audible, and at times Gwen wanted to flee into the streets screaming in revulsion and disgust. If there was one good part to her stay, it was a welcome relief to be off her blistered feet. She was overjoyed when the barge arrived to take them to Radu.

The first day on the single-masted barge passed without incident. Lana had erected a tall tent on the wide, flat-bottomed riverboat and Gwen spent all her time there alone, lying on a modest bedroll, draped head to toe in white linen, listening to the bawdy chatter of the women outside and enjoying the gentle rocking of the barge.

Lana had strictly forbidden her girls from interacting with the 'valuable virgin cargo' and so far none had dared defy their house Mistress. Lana was her only visitor, and even then it was only to bring her a modest dinner of bread, wine and fruit.

In the morning on the second day there was a stir as the barge was boarded by soldiers looking for fugitives, but Lana was smooth-tongued and convincing, and although a solider peeked through the tent flap he didn't risk the "Prince's unbridled fury" by approaching any closer. The barge sailed on unmolested for the rest of that day, with Gwen napping for most of it.

That evening after dark Lana paid a visit and lay next to Gwen with her lips close to her ear.

"There's a problem," she said in a barely audible murmur. "There's a blockade ahead. Red Capes. From what we've heard from fishermen coming the other way, they're searching every boat on the river, right down to the splinters, looking for you and Harrow."

Gwen's heart pounded. If the Guardsmen were rough and cruel, the Red Capes were even worse; tireless in their zealous commitment to The Order and not afraid to transgress both law and custom in pursuit of their "holy" goals.

"Look, I can bluff my way past common soldiers all day, but the Red Capes? I can hopefully talk my girls past them - we've got written royal permission to attend the Harvest Festival - but there's no way YOU'RE getting through without a good once-over. And that's all it's going to take," Lana finished.

Gwen tried to digest what she was hearing. "So...what do we do?"

Lana rested her hand on Gwen's arm. "I can only think of two things. If you like, we can find somewhere nearby to drop you off and you can go it alone, or maybe we can get a fisherman to take you back to Skeeter Flats. That's one option."

"Lana, I can't make it alone. I don't have the right skills, or money or anything. All I have are my clothes and this sword." The Hound's sword was at her side, concealed under the bedroll. Harrow had insisted she bring it with her.