The Tattooed Woman Pt. 15

THE TATTOOED WOMAN - Chapter 15

I hope folks are enjoying the story so far. Please leave comments, as criticism both positive and constructive is inherently useful. Plus, I like reading comments, so that's cool.

The Tattooed Woman Volume 2 - Chapter 1: A Quarrelsome Spirit

The Dark Elven City of Emain was as spectacular, as it was ancient. The Dokkálfar were known as a devious and cunning folk, but they were also artful and had an appreciation of beauty that could sometimes penetrate even their cold hearts.

And so, within the sanctuary of its surrounding walls, with their many towers and crenelations, the city boasted finely kept gardens and orchards among its dark spires and winding streets. It was also a place of strange and alien contrasts with statues lining broad avenues, and majestic plazas with elegant fountains where the flowing crystal waters sounded almost musical, as well as less salubrious and more mysterious quarters, with strangely twisted lanes and narrow passages that led to baroque cul-de-sacs and alleys, where ominous shadows seemed to shift and flicker of their own volition and hooded figures oft lurked. It was a queer place, with back streets filled with hidden taverns, fleshpots, theatres, alchemists, workshops, tinkerers, bestiaries and all manner of shops and stalls from which strange items, books and any number of artefacts, compounds and tomes could be found, as well as services to sate even the most discerning or gross palate, all for the right price.

Darkness and gloom posed no barrier or impediment to the acute senses and night vision of Dark Elves and so there were few witchlamps set to illuminate the narrow winding alleyways and pavements away from those larger central thoroughfares, thus those slaves and freefolk who went abroad in the evenings would oft carry lanterns and witchlamps of their own and here and there a spell-crafted wisp would be conjured to follow or lead those who travelled these byways.

If one knew the way, then towards one end of a particular cul-de-sac could be found a well-appointed gate of silver and iron. It was set into a high wall, illuminated by an old decorative lamp of gnomish design and usually guarded by a Half-Orc, of significant size and formidable aspect, who typically bore an iron-bound cudgel. Beyond this gate was the House of Yellow Silk

The House of Yellow Silk was a fine bordello where Ashunara was known, and it was to this establishment that she led Hildegard on this particular evening. To accommodate the night blindness of her human companion the Captain had paused at a stall to dicker with a hedge-wizard who had his familiar conjure a small floating wisp and set it to float above the couple as they strolled along the narrow streets. Hildegard gasped as she spotted the small imp that assisted the mage with this trivial enchantment, and it in turn had leered at her with glowing yellow eyes as it caught her stare.

The streets were busy with throngs of revellers and passers-by, but beggars and other ne'er-do-wells avoided the Captain and most moved aside when they saw her. Hildegard was uncertain whether it was because she was known, or simply that she had her hand on the deadly shortsword at her side and walked with the obvious air of someone who not only knew how to use it but would happily demonstrate her competence if given cause.

Ashunara forbore wearing her mail this evening and instead wore a dull cloak over a stout jerkin that was belted at the waist and a pair of comfortable leather troos, while Hildegard still wore the tattered remains of the habit she had worn as a novice sister. The garment had seen significant abuse and wear these last days and though it was at least now clean again, it was distinctly threadbare and even after much repair was more than just a little tattered and torn. However, as a collared slave, she had no coin or even opportunity to replace the ruined garment, especially as she had spent the last few days and nights in a small, but oddly comfortable and clean cell at the slave market while Ashunara had gone off to conduct her business.

The overseers had not been particularly warm and kindly, but neither were they cruel, and they had not abused her in any way. She had been provided good food and allowed to walk unescorted and unshackled in the enclosed, and guarded, courtyard. There was a communal bathing area for those enslaved that she had used without embarrassment for it was not particularly different from the distinctly spartan and simple facilities back at the convent, though at least here they had hot water and soap, which to her mind was a significant improvement.

Her cell was one of several situated in a particular wing of the slave castle where she was kept and there were others enslaved alongside who occupied some of those other cells. The wing was above and overlooked the courtyard where she could exercise and walk at will, and there was a well for fresh water. She had seen other slaves who had used this same space being taken off for auction but apparently, the occupants of the cells where she currently resided were for the moment immune to this fate. None of the guards prohibited her from talking to these unfortunates and she had learned many things by doing so. And at least she was not alone, for Muriah, a Dark Elf who had fallen to slavery and whom she had met on the journey to this place, now occupied the adjacent cell, and though the wing was locked during the hours of darkness the individual cells were not, save for a simple bolt upon the inside that she could employ as she wished.

The guards permitted and for the most part, ignored conversation and association between the occupants of the cells and provided they caused no disturbance some of the enslaved who had become close to one another chose to share a chamber.

She and Muriah were not so close, but even so, it was heartening to have someone familiar to speak to for despite these few freedoms this place was a fearful one.

She recalled the first day when she and Muriah had been left by Ashunara and they had been taken before another Dark Elf, garbed in stout leather, carrying a sturdy rod and with a whip fixed to her belt. She had a scarred face and the coldest eyes of any creature Hildegard had ever encountered, save one.

"I am Overseer Falsara Kur, you will address me as 'Overseer' or 'Mistress'. Your owner has left you in my care while she conducts her business. You may be gratified to know you are not to be sold and that she has intimated to me that she will return to collect you in due course. Clearly, you are of some value to your owner for she has paid coin for you to be kept here in comfort. This is a thing we sometimes do, and we have a place set aside for you."

She pointed to a scarred, worn-looking wooden fixture situated in the centre of the courtyard with sturdy metal rings attached. Hildegard thought it had an ominous look, and the overseers' words confirmed her suspicions, "That is a whipping post. If you cause trouble, you may become familiar with its function. I assure you it is not a pleasant experience. However, behave well, be respectful, cause no trouble and keep yourselves and your rooms clean, and you will in turn be well treated and there will be no reason for you to ever find yourself hanging from those rings. I take it I make my meaning clear?"

Hildegard saw with horror Muriah draw a breath for some angry retort so she swiftly stamped on the girl's foot and blurted her reply, "We understand Overseer, and we will cause no issue. I thank you for your kindness."

Falsara stepped close and she had a wicked smile on her face, "You are the one they call Muriah Fel, yes?"

Muriah nodded, and Hildegard almost sighed with relief when she wisely remained silent, though her eyes blazed with anger. The Overseer shook her head with a smile, "I am reasonably certain Muriah that in due course you will be ransomed back to your family and with a little luck you will be able to put this unpleasant experience behind you, perhaps you may only be here for a few days, mayhap a week or two. But for now, you are enslaved, and while your Mistress has paid coin to ensure favourable treatment, I will have you stripped, hung on one of those rings and whipped until you cannot stand if you give me cause. Show some wisdom girl, don't let your anger get the better of you and make you say or do something that you will regret. This is the only warning I will give you."

Turning to Hildegard the overseer tilted her head as she regarded her, "Captain Ashunara said you were a clever one, human. Do you need further warning also?"

"No, Overseer."

"Good, one of the guards will show you to your cells. There is a common room off this courtyard where meals are taken. A bell is rung when they are served. Now go, wash and rest, it will soon be time for the midday meal."

Hildegard swallowed and took a risk, "Overseer?"

The woman turned back to her, "You have a question?"

"Do you perchance know when the Captain will return?"

The Dark Elf grinned, "Are you so keen to be reunited with her?"

Hildegard blushed but nodded. The overseer pursed her lips in thought, "I do not know precisely, but take heart, she did not give the impression that your stay here would be overly long, and I suspect that at least part of the business that she engages in is to arrange more suitable accommodation for you both. Take your rest, be at peace and cause no trouble, and your time here will pass swiftly enough."

As the overseer turned to go again Muriah spoke and Hildegard held her breath expecting some new disaster to spill from her lips, "Overseer?"

Slowly the woman turned, "Yes?"

Muriah blushed and looked down to the sand for a moment before raising her eyes again, "Captain Ashunara had me training with the sword, might I.. please... be permitted to continue my training while here, I have a wooden practice blade so there would be no danger."

Falsara stepped closer to the woman, "That politeness cost you I think, well done, it's no easy lesson to master yourself. And you can kill with a wooden blade if you have a mind. Still," she pondered and scratched the tip of one of her pointed ears, "if you do not mind rough tutelage, I will spar with you. I may not be as gentle as your Captain, but I do know my way with a blade and may teach you some things not found in any fencing manual. Are you game?"

Muriah's eyes flashed, "I'm game enough you bi... I mean, er, yes Overseer, I would um, greatly appreciate it."

Falsara laughed, "Oh, I'm going to have fun with you girl. But fair's fair, you might, no you will gain a few bruises, but I'll teach you well enough, and as my old guildmaster used to say, "If you're not cheating in a fight, you're doing it wrong," she gave the woman a wicked grin and pouted, "of course, if it gets too much for you just quit, I'll understand."

Muriah bit back a snarl as the woman strolled off laughing.

Later that evening Hildegard and a few other slaves leaned over the railing looking down on the courtyard to watch the first lesson.

The overseer smiled amiably and nodded at Muriah's stance, "Hmm, you're still quite new at this are you not?"

When Muriah nodded Falsara stepped closer and swiftly tossed a handful of dirt into her face and then slammed the flat of her sword hard across her midriff as she spluttered. Muriah went down instantly coughing, wheezing and puking as the overseer gently tapped her on the head with her blade, "Aaand, you're dead. Lesson one, if someone is trying to fucking kill you there are no points for fighting fair and definitely no points for second place. Watch both hands, both feet and be aware of everything around you in case they have mates who might stab you in the back. Get up! You're not that hurt, and we've barely started."

It was a punishing couple of hours for Muriah, but for what it was worth the overseer was actually damned good with a blade. While she didn't have much in the way of polish, she was deadly enough in her brutally direct way, and she was a really, really dirty fighter. By the end of it she had Muriah using a knife in her off hand as well as the shortsword in her main, "Not much good against armour, but a bloody nasty surprise for some bastard if you get caught in some alley by vagabonds or," she grinned, "slavers."

After sending the girl sprawling for what must have been the fiftieth time, she brought the lesson to an end and wandered off chuckling as she called over her shoulder to the panting, exhausted woman lying on her back in the sand, "That was fun! You're not that bad for a beginner, definitely some potential there. Same time tomorrow? Unless you want to give up of course," she paused at the gate, "hey, you do a lot of that panting and gasping for breath stuff, you know I bet if you did a bit of running; mayhap around this courtyard for instance, that might help eventually. Up to you, I guess. Sleep well, I'm going to have a drink and tell my mates about how entertaining this is. You never know, maybe a couple of them might want to help you out as well."

Hildegard had rushed down to help the battered, sweat-stained woman. Her midriff, back, legs, buttocks, shoulders and arms were bruised, and she groaned as she struggled to her feet, "I fucking hate that bitch!"

"Come on Muriah, let's get you into a hot bath. At least you don't have to go through with this tomorrow, you'll quit right?"

"Not a fucking chance!"

Hildegard just groaned.

The bath helped with the bruising and Hildegard washed the woman's hair before assisting her to her cell and into bed.

She knew the Dark Elf would be sore and stiff the next day, and yet she wasn't surprised in the slightest when in the morning she went out yawning and saw the woman jogging unsteadily around the courtyard. A couple of the other guards were watching, and Hildegard heard one betting on how many circuits she would do before giving up while the other commented sarcastically, "It surely won't be many for she's just some spoiled rich girl playing at soldier, and besides, she's already slowing."

Clearly, Muriah also heard, for she spat vile curses and picked up her pace immediately.

Hildegard sighed.

...

The 'Raven's Nest' was a large, creaking building that had been built, burned down, rebuilt, and added to repeatedly over its long years and many owners. It had been a villa at one time, as well as a hospice, a gambling den, a bedlam house, and many times, as it was now, a tavern and inn.

In recent decades the establishment had fallen into disrepair and misuse as repeated owners had neglected it, and while it was still a hostelry and free house it was such a run-down place that it tended to draw a very rough crowd indeed, soldiers, rogues and vagabonds would drink there while prostitutes and mountebanks plied their trades.

And now there came a new owner, one of many, who had taken stewardship of the premises and had poured their coin and sweat into repairs and refurbishment. While the work was not nearly done, the place was now moderately clean at least, and those few rooms that were still serviceable had fresh bedding, and patrons were no longer like as not to be robbed or even murdered as they slept.

Nyx had taken Maggie and Cassie to meet with the new owner, and Cassie had peered about with a mix of exhilaration, curiosity, and trepidation as they passed narrow lanes and dark alcoves as well as buildings with tall fences, shuttered windows and aspects that were both bleak, and strange.

The common room of the inn was large, filled with shadow-filled nooks and crannies that the lamps, candles and witchlights only barely illuminated. There was a long bar, with a cracked mirror behind it and many sturdy, if well-used, tables.

Cassie was amazed when she met the new owner, she was a Dark Elf, which was to be expected, but that she had her sleeves rolled up and was hard at work with a bucket and brush, scrubbing rough tables was not. The woman looked up as they approached and grinned as she wiped beads of sweat from her brow and Cassie immediately noticed the similarity of her features with those of Nyx, and it was clear they were kin. It was mid-afternoon, and a few customers were present, but it was more or less quiet with most folk eating a midday meal. Maggie looked at the fare in the plates as she passed and winced.

"Aha! So, you came. This must be the cook you spoke about in such fulsome terms, Maggie I believe, yes? And the little scrubber that goes with her, I hope you are a hard worker girl! But who is this tall gangly creature that follows, I do not recall you speaking of her, and I do not have the spare coin to purchase another of your miscreants."

"That would be the little one's sister. She came to bid her farewell; I thought it only fair."

The woman plonked her brush back into the bucket and pushed it aside, "Come to the bar then for a drink while we speak, I do not have a decent barman as yet so I cannot take you to a quiet room for our talk," she frowned, "and there are... issues, we must discuss."

Nyx frown, "Oh, that sounds suspiciously like trouble."

The woman nodded as she poured an ale for each of them, "Here, try this, I got rid of the utter pish this place was serving and bought this in, it's an improvement I think, but if I had the coin I would do better."

Nyx tasted it and sniffed, "Had worse."

The woman nodded, "Indeed, you should have tasted the previous swill, well actually you shouldn't for it was thoroughly fucking abysmal," she turned to the two enslaved women, "right, so I've bought you two, and a pretty penny it cost me. Now I want to be fair to you, but the truth of the matter is that I'm almost as penniless as you are, so for now we lack all manner of necessities that might make our lives more tolerable and must make do."

She looked about, "As you can see this place is in a state and requires a lot of work to become what I want it to be. So, I'll warn you now I'll have no time for laziness, and if that's what you are I'll like as not beat the sloth from your backsides with a switch."

Nyx noticed as Adair tilted her head and regarded the fiery little Dark Elf with a peculiar smile.

She swallowed, "Erm, you know I don't think there'll be need for tha..."

The younger Dark Elf smiled and shushed her with a gesture, "Oh, don't fret so, from what you say I doubt we'll have any such problems, but it's best they know where they stand. What I intend is to pay you fair, give you one day off in seven and eventually, once I get to trust you, I'd let you wander as you will. But," she frowned unhappily, "I have not enough workers, too much to do, and bugger all money. So, you'll get no pay, no days off and I'll work you like dogs. But if you stick with it, I'll do my absolute damnedest to make it up to you eventually.

"As it stands you can split the tips with all the others who are working, though at the moment that's basically bugger all, for the clientele here are a right worthless shower, but that's one of the things I'm aiming to change."

Cassie looked about nervously and spoke, "Mistress, what will I be doing?"

The Dark Elf looked at her, "Well, Maggie will run my kitchen for me, I aim to get an assistant for her, but I need to hire a good barman first, so you'll end up working in the kitchen mostly for now. You'll also be cleaning, fixing up rooms, making beds and doing laundry and the like, plus I've been told you have your letters and numbers, and you even speak a little of our language correct?"

Cassie nodded.

"Wonderful, that's a rare skill with new slaves and will be damned handy. In that case, you'll probably be making the runs to various shops and provisioners for supplies and the like. I have purchased a lad from the arena as ostiarius, you know, a bouncer, he's an ex-gladiator and a bit past his prime, but he's the best I could afford. Don't fucking sleep with him. He'll be your bodyguard when you go shopping in case you get robbed."