Raptor and Rapture Ch. 03: Sabre Ballet

Vana watched the new, allegedly virgin, jockey, slice into another matt directly after he'd landed from a high jump, "I have no bloody idea..." she muttered as she shook her head.

"His raptor weighs easily fifty pounds more than our own, and it's claws are too widespread to be making such accurate pivots, but even so..." Harold pursed his lips as he watched Tarquin dip beneath a one of the bars, but instead of leaning forward he ducking, he leaned backwards, to an extreme.

"It's not always about how well bred the animal is: there's also the skill of rider and the bond that the rider shares with his mount," Vana said aloud as they looked on. "I have a feeling that this man doesn't need to issue very many commands... I think his raptor is intuitive enough to do most of it on his own."

"Bah, that's impossible!" Harold crossed his arms before frowning, "Still... one can't argue that's it's more than just beginner's luck. Surely he's played mattatti before?"

"No," Vana shook her head, "Look at his form: it's garbage. He's expending far too much energy with his swings, and he keeps himself hunched like he's going to launch himself off his mount at any moment. No, this man is a fighter, a damn good one, too, but he's never played this game before."

Meanwhile, Tarquin was approaching the end of the course and one obstacle remained. There was a bar that was lying over a mud pit, and though the bar was an easy jump, the pit itself was far longer than the height required to clear the bar. To make matters more difficult, a mat was dangling from a beam in the middle of the jump, only it was placed horizontally instead of vertically.

Tarquin realized how tricky the jump was even before they approached it. he would have to slow Axis a bit to make a rearing leap; a move that wasn't difficult for the raptors themselves, but was considered a master's move for riders. "If we make this buddy, I'll get you some steaks for dinner!" The mercenary grinned as he readied the mattatti sword.

Axis slowed at his master's urging and prepared for the jump by moving into a low run. Finally, once the two reached the bar, Tarquin pulled back on the reigns twice and signaled Axis to make the move. The raptor crouched without hesitation and leapt powerfully upwards and outwards. As the pair cleared the bar, Tarquin lifted the blade over his shoulder and cut the hanging matt cleanly, being sure that he didn't use too much force so as not to cut Axis' head. Both rider and raptor landed gracefully, and the last obstacle was cleared smoothly. At the end of the track, three more mats were lined up in a row, with only a few feet in-between them. Tarquin leaned over the side and lopped them in half, one by one, bringing his arm around naturally and letting it swing every time he sliced. Immediately afterwards, he urged Axis forward past the finish line, and the group of onlookers stared at him as he slowed the raptor.

Vana exhaled slowly and turned to the time keeper behind her, "Time?"

The time keeper, and heavier set woman, looked down at the mechanical watch she was carrying and blinked, "Forty seven seconds and some change... that's five seconds faster than your last run."

Vana seemed to take the news calmly as she approached Tarquin, "Who are you, really?" She asked as her eyes narrowed.

"Just an honest to goodness raptor rider," he replied as he dismounted, "Nothing more." He smiled as he handed the mattatti sword back to her and pulled the helmet off his head.

Vana didn't seem convinced as she took the blade, "There are no good raptor riders, or so I've been told."

Tarquin chuckled, "I never claimed to be a good one, just a one. Now..." he paused, "how'd I do?"

She took a deep breath, "You beat me... by five seconds. I'm sure you're just all kinds tickled pink right now."

Tarquin shook his head and took a deep breath, "No, not really. I hate having to prove myself over and over again to everyone who scoffs at my profession, and I hate games, but it seems to be everyone's preferred method of mettle testing, so I find myself playing them more often lately."

Vana wasn't sure whether or not she was offended or impressed by his words, but she smiled slowly, "If it means anything, I apologize for assuming anything about you... it was unfair of me."

Tarquin stepped up to the woman and handed her the helmet, "No such thing as fair: just rich, lucky, or skilled."

Vana laughed, "Can a person be all three?"

Tarquin chuckled once more, "Sure, but most people aren't; most people are just one."

Vana pursed her lips as she looked at him in a peculiar way, "And you? Just skilled?"

Tarquin shook his head, "Nope, lucky... just lucky."

Vana nodded as she looked over her shoulder and saw Harold glaring at them, "Can I buy you a drink? I believe I owe you some information."

"A drink sounds fantastic, but I must admit, your high class wine will be completely wasted on me."

"How about beer?"

Tarquin grinned, "Beer sounds delicious."

Vana giggled, and for the first time since they'd met she lowered her shoulders a bit and her face softened, "It tastes better than it sounds."

The mercenary paused before he laughed, "And she's got jokes, too! Alright, milady, lead the way; if you're going to beer I'll follow you sure enough."

A little less than thirty minutes later, Tarquin found himself sitting at a bar beside the redhead. The bar itself was within the lower class part of town, but it was clean and the beer was excellent. The two had only been talking for about ten minutes, but Tarquin was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"So, tell me about your father; is he as crazy as everyone says he is?" Tarquin asked before he threw back a healthy amount of his tankard.

Vana sighed, "Yes and no. He's a great leader, and he has a deep understanding of our economy and the future of Carthesis, but..." she looked into her own tankard before taking a big swig, "He's starting to become a little paranoid about the race crisis."

"Hm, yeah, I heard about that. So, if I'm to understand it correctly, he's basically telling everyone not to fuck each other?"

Vana looked a little shocked at his words, but she recovered quickly and laughed, "No, not exactly, but he might as well be telling them that. Things haven't been going the way he hoped they would, obviously, and people are still conceiving children... still only girls. It's been nearly five years since the last male was born in Carth, and the oldest male child in the city is around six years old. My father even tried to sleep with the woman who gave birth to that child, but her husband wouldn't allow it," Vana paused, "It didn't do wonders for his credibility in the situation."

Tarquin nodded, "I see. And what about you? Are you not allowed to marry and try for a family of your own?"

Vana blushed slightly, "No, it's not quite that extreme, but..." she shook her head, "I shouldn't be talking about it with a complete stranger, I apologize."

"Hey, no problem, didn't mean to push it. I was just thinking that it didn't seem right for your father to expect all of his daughters to remain single for their entire life; it's not something any good father would ask of his daughter."

Vana stared at the table, "It's more complicated than that. he's not a bad, man, Tarquin, he's just... maybe a little lost right now."

The mercenary took another drink and nodded slowly, "And where do you fall in the endless line of half sisters?"

Vana smiled for an instance, but her smile was quickly replaced by a frown, "I'm the second oldest... just turned thirty, in fact. I'm already an old maid by most standards."

Tarquin went wide eyed, "Wha? You, an old maid? You've gotta be shitting me. You're a world champion mattatti rider, right? On top of that, you're gorgeous as hell, and you drink beer. Any man would be damn lucky to have you as a wife, damn lucky."

Vana blushed hotly, "Stop it," she turned away from him and laughed, "I'm not buying you another beer, if that's what you're after."

Tarquin laughed, "Naw, I'll buy the next round. Seriously though, you're just getting started when your thirty. I mean, look at me."

She glanced at him and laughed again, "Oh, yes, thirty was sooo long ago for you, I'm sure. You're just trying to make me feel better."

Tarquin waved over the bartender and signaled for two more beers, "Well, how old do you think I am?"

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head, "Oh no, uh-uh, I'm not playing this game with you."

"No, come on, really, I won't be offended," the mercenary turned in his stool and gestured to himself, "Come on, lay it on me."

She stared at him for a moment with incredulity before wrinkling her nose, "Shit, let's say... thirty five?"

Tarquin finished tankard and set it down on the bar, "Good guess! I'm thirty four, actually... I think."

Vana grinned, "I see. Young enough to be reckless, old enough to know better."

"I still don't know better, most days," he replied as the bartender set fresh tankards down in front of them.

"So, what went through your mind on the day of your thirtieth birthday," she asked with a coy smile.

"Mostly I was thinking 'holy shit, I'm still alive?'"

The redhead smirked as she reached for the fresh beer, "Well, I appreciate the boost in confidence." She became serious a moment later, "I uh, I suppose I really do owe you an apology."

"Oh, for what, exactly?"

"Well, I did assume some pretty terrible things about you when I first saw you. It's nice to get a perspective check from time to time, and I appreciate you being such a good sport about it."

Tarquin waved his hand, "Don't worry about it. It's always the same pretty much everywhere I go, and most people are just scared of pretty much everything, so they stay away from me based on rumors. I don't lie to anyone," he paused as he took a sip of his drink, "I'm a mercenary: I get paid to kill people and fight wars on behalf of causes which I don't know or care about. Just because I'm a soldier for hire doesn't mean I'm automatically a dick, but I've met plenty of other raptor riders and some of them are." He shrugged, "I've met poor people, rich people, demons, elves, dwarves, gnomes, shit... the list goes on. My point is, some people are just arrogant prigs and others aren't; I don't think it has as much to do with culture, money or upbringing as people think it does. You're proof of that."

Vana cocked her head, "Proof of what?"

"Well, you have money, I'm sure, or you can ride on your father's fortune, but you're not a total asshole."

Vana smiled softly, "Why thank you, Tarquin; you're not a total asshole either."

"But a partial one?" He lifted his tankard and smiled.

"Probably, yes, but everyone is at some point."

The two talked for a few more hours, but it felt like mere moments to Tarquin. he'd never actually sat down and had a few drinks with a woman, and it was one of the most refreshing, invigorating conversations he'd ever had. Finally, as the sun began to set, Vana reached into a pouch she wore on her hip and slid a paper ticket over to Tarquin.

"Hm, what's this?" Tarquin took up the ticket and read it.

"It's a ticket for a box seat at the Carthesis grand theater. The performance starts at eight, and you're going to want to get there early. My sister will be performing tonight. I can't guarantee that you'll get a chance to speak with her, especially alone, so the rest is up to you."

The mercenary looked over the ticket several times before pocketing it safely, "Thank you. Out of curiosity, what kind of performance is it?"

Vana looked slightly surprised, "It's for the sabre ballet; Ashey is a headliner in it."

Tarquin had never heard of the sabre ballet, but then, there were many cultural and country specific events that he'd never heard of, "Your sister's name is Ashey?"

"Yes, she is the one with stark blue eyes and silver hair. I was going to see her this evening... I think we all were, but I should be able to get in without a ticket. You on the other hand," she pursed her lips, "No offense, but the ticket is the only hope you have of getting in short of sneaking in."

"No offense taken, I appreciate your candor," Tarquin smiled, "Anything else I should know?"

"Well," Vana looked over him, "It's a high class event... your clothes will probably get you kicked out, regardless of the ticket."

"Damn. Duly noted," The mercenary furrowed his brow, "I guess I'll have to invest in something a bit nicer."

The redhead nodded, "There's one more thing I'd like to say to you before you leave."

Tarquin gave her his full attention, "Yes, of course."

She faced him squarely, "I'm not very close with Ashey. We had a bit of a falling out a few years ago and now we tolerate each other when we have to. Even so... please don't do anything to hurt her. Even though she's only a half sister, she is my sister none the less, and if I hear that you hurt her in any way, I may have to take steps against you."

Tarquin nodded, "I promise you that I won't do anything to harm your sister; you have my word, if its worth anything."

Vana nodded and smiled slightly, "I believe you. Now, before you go, I'd like to say goodbye to your raptor, if I could."

Tarquin smiled genuinely, "I think he would like that." The two stood from the stools and Tarquin left some money on the counter, "Assuming her hasn't tried to take advantage of your she-raptor."

Vana laughed, "She's not in heat right now."

"He wouldn't do that anyway; Axis is a gentleman."

She cocked her brow and grinned, "I'm guessing he didn't get that from you."

Tarquin agreed with a smile, "No, definitely not."

"You want how much?!"

The gnomish taylor eyed Tarquin with scrutiny and nodded, "That's a discount price, normally I'd sell it for half the amount!"

Tarquin frowned at the suit he was currently wearing and looked at himself in the mirror once more. The gnomish taylor was his third stop, and it was nearly seven, which meant that he was running out of time to find a proper outfit for the ballet, "What do you think?"

The gnome, a scruffy, wiry haired old man, winced, "The legs are too long and your arms are too big for the sleeves. This is the only outfit I have that will even come close to fitting you properly, and I know you're in a rush, so let me make a deal with you. Ten percent off the price I just quoted you, and I'll hem the legs and sew a gusset into the armpits so you can have your range of motion. I can't do any better than that or I'll lose money on the material."

Tarquin sighed as he looked at himself once more, "That sounds fair... I'll take it."

Seven forty five came around and Tarquin looked a sight as he rode up to the grand theater atop Axis. He'd managed to rush back to the inn and take a quick bath, then he'd hastily done is hair and put it up in a tight ponytail. The suit he wore was completely black, and his boots didn't match it, but he wasn't willing to pay for another pair of shoes that he would probably never wear again. The suit itself was fitting him much better than it had earlier, and it was complete with a white cravat and coat tails that ran down past the back of his legs.

Hundreds of people were pouring into the grand theater as torches burned everywhere. The theater itself was a massive structure, and Tarquin stared up at it for a moment as he slowed Axis. It was rectangular in shape, but slightly obtuse, and the outside of the building looked as if it were coated in glass.

As Tarquin rode closer, dozens of people stared at him. Most of them were human, but there were a few gnomes and dwarves thrown into the mix, and all of them were well dressed and rich looking. He nodded back to many of them and he smiled as he cruised at a steady pace, and he slowed once more as he approached line of carriages in front of the building.

"Uh, excuse me sir, but... this is a private event," a nervous looking valet attendant told him as he approached.

Tarquin stopped smoothly and dismounted, then produced his ticket and showed it to the man, "It's funny, that's the second time I've heard that today. You folks sure do have a lot of private things going on."

The valet looked at the ticket and his eyes widened, "Oh, I meant, well, what I mean to say, is that..."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Tarquin laughed as he handed Axis' reigns to the valet. "It's about his dinner time; he's going to want some steak, but go ahead and give him whatever fresh meat you have on hand."

The valet took the reigns before he really knew what was going on, but he put his hand out as Tarquin began to walk away, "Sir, wait! the stable is for hors..."

"I appreciate it, thanks!" Tarquin raised his hand and waved without turning, "I'll pick him up after the show!"

The valet lowered the reigns and stared at Axis with wide eyes. The raptor just stared back expectantly.

"Your ticket sir?" A stuffy looking guy in a tight fitting suit looked at Tarquin with open judgement as he made his way up to the gate leading into the theater.

"Here you are, fine sir," The mercenary handed his ticket to the man confidently.

The man took the ticket and looked over it slowly, glancing up at Tarquin several times before he punched it with some sort of device, "Enjoy the show, sir."

"I will, thank you very much," Tarquin strolled through the gate and pocketed the stamped ticket as he felt the eyes of many upper echelon Carthians on him.

The inside of the theater was even more ornate than the outside, and it took Tarquin several minutes to get his bearings. He asked a few employees where his seat was, and he eventually found the box he was looking for. A large curtain blocked the entrance to the balcony, and he moved it aside and slipped in quickly.

The inner theater was actually smaller than he thought it would be, given the size of the building, but it seemed like every seat in the house was taken, and the loud chattering of the audience could be heard echoing throughout the amphitheater. In front of the stage, a large orchestra was already set up, and a maestro was standing atop his pedestal flipping through his sheet music.

The balcony was made up of four rows of staggered seats, and each row contained about a dozen seats. The seats in the back-most row were completely empty, and Tarquin made his way to one of them and sat slowly.

He assumed that the show was going to start soon, but since he had nothing better to do, he took a moment to look around.

There were several other balconies, but there was one in particular that was slightly higher than the ones off to the side, and Tarquin looked over it to see if his suspicions were confirmed. Sure enough, in the front row, he spotted eight women, all sitting in a row, and at one end, a man that had to have been none other than Havro Neilson.

Tarquin smirked to himself as he looked over the line of women, "You've built quite the empire for yourself, Havro," he muttered to himself as he took a good look at each of them. All of them had different hairstyles and different skin tone, and each of them wore a different outfit. Tarquin wondered if some of the rumors he'd heard were true, and he questioned how just of a man Havro was. His eyes fell upon Vana particularly, and even though he couldn't see her very well, his heart beat faster as he stared at her for a long moment. She was wearing a bright red dress with a plummeting neckline, and her hair had been curled loosely. She wore a single red flower in her hair, and Tarquin exhaled slowly as he shook his head, "They don't make them like that everywhere you go," he told himself as he sat back and averted his gaze.

Before he could consider Vana further, the orchestra began to play, and the crowd quieted almost immediately. Tarquin had never in his life been to such a grand performance, but he'd seen plenty of peasant plays and talent shows, and he thought it humorous that there wasn't any clapping or cheering at the start of the show.