The Tattooed Woman Pt. 16

Varoona conducted a swift search of the corpse, "There is a key here for the door, but none for the manacles, I surmise this Syros you speak of might have it."

Adair looked at the poor shackled creatures and felt the rage stirring within her, "I can break these chains. Go find this man and do something grievous to him."

Nyx nodded, "Do you need someone to stay with you, in case of attack?"

The woman looked up at her with anger-filled eyes and shook her head.

"Nope, didn't think so."

Elsadore whispered to her as she ascended the steps again, "Will she be all right down there alone?"

Nyx snorted, "Anyone going down those steps to assail her deserves our pity I think for she did not look at all happy."

Soon after they came upon a bedchamber that was well-appointed. The bed looked ruffled and there were clothes scattered about. Elsadore nodded towards an empty armour stand placed by a tall mirror, "Well, he's geared himself it seems."

"Aye, for all the good it will do him," Nyx pointed to a heavy table, "here, fetch me yon table."

Elsadore nodded, "Crossbows?"

"Seems likely."

Not far beyond the bed chamber, the Dark Elves had come upon another short passageway that ended in a door, and their keen ears detected the sounds of hushed whispers and furtive movement beyond, and Elsadore grinned, "Here we go."

Varoona sniffed, "How many do you think?"

Nyx tilted her head to listen, "I'd say mayhap between a half dozen and eight. You up for it lass?"

The younger woman grinned and nodded.

Hefting the heavy table so it formed a shield the three Dark Elves ran at the door. The impact was jarring, but the wooden planks of the thing splintered with a crack as it flew open. Impacts battered the surface of the table as a pair of crossbow bolts and a thrown hatchet thudded into the wood.

With a wild cry, the Dark Elves hurled the table into a cluster of rogues and charged, sword in hand. Nyx hurled a dagger that impaled a man fumbling to reload the crossbow he held, while Elsadore sprinted forward and with a manic laugh she swiftly impaled another thug through the gut with her blade. Varoona looked about and hurled a globe at the other crossbowman. The glass sphere struck him and shattered, igniting the alchemists' fire within, turning the poor fellow into a human torch that staggered about shrieking.

The gang of thugs were brutal, callous folk, but they were used to mugging, backstabbing, or fighting in alleys against other riffraff, and apart from the two ex-gladiators among them they had little experience in dealing with skilled opposition. Unfortunately for them Nyx and the other Dark Elves were very skilled indeed, and they had not come to merely brawl or posture. They mercilessly slaughtered the would-be ruffians with the ruthless efficiency of hardened mercenaries, parrying their wild swings, or slipping past their clumsy strokes to slash and impale with brutal speed and lethal intent. There were grunts and cries as blades sank into flesh and gasps as blood was spilt.

Even so, the rogues had numbers on their side and the vicious and violent swirl of weapons that followed might well have been one-sided, but it was hard fought for all that. Nyx ducked under a blow meant to cleave her skull and deftly sliced open the thigh of a swordsman facing Elsadore causing the man to stumble and slip on the bloody floor, and his grinning Dark Elven opponent took the opportunity to neatly skewer him. Varoona was hard pressed by an axe-wielding Half-Orc until she tricked the thug with a sly feint and planted the dagger she had palmed under his armpit before dancing back out of reach. The Half-Orc staggered forward a pace and swung again but the wound slowed him fatally, and her blade slipped past his guard again and again until blood loss brought him to his knees allowing her to dart forward and stab him in the throat.

Soon enough, most of the gang had been cut down and lay dead or bleeding on the blood-spattered floor, and only one of the gladiators remained standing, doing his best to shield a wounded companion. Behind them was a tall Half-Elf who had remained back from the fighting. He was a handsome enough fellow with dark hair, pale features, and brilliant blue eyes. He wore a rich tunic over his mail and wielded a rapier with a fine silver-inlaid guard that he waved uselessly before him while screaming invectives in a shrill voice.

Nyx stepped back, gesturing for Elsadore and Varoona to do likewise and pointed her sword at the gladiator, "Don't suppose you fancy living through this do you?"

The gladiator licked his lips but refused to give ground, glancing down at his wounded friend, "Me and him both?"

Nyx grinned, "Fair enough, throw down your arms, drag him aside and be done with it, for t'is yon bold fellow standing there and squealing like a damsel that I'm after and not you."

The gladiator nodded, "Done, and... thanks."

"Don't be going anyplace though, for like as not I'll be wanting a word once this is done with."

The man nodded again as he pulled his friend away and tried to staunch the wound in the man's side. Varoona paused in wiping sweat from her brow, pulled a rolled bandage from her belt pouch and casually tossed it to the warrior who muttered his thanks warily.

The Half-Elf spat at the gladiators, "I paid you good coin to be my bodyguards and you cower like dogs! You cowardly bastards!"

Elsadore grinned at Nyx, "Hard to get good help these days."

Nyx nodded, "It is if you're a cunt I suppose."

...

As Adair tore the chains free from the walls one of the women threw herself over the dead body of the girl next to her and begged, "Please! Don't hurt her, I'll do what you want, but please, don't hurt her no more."

Adair stared down at the corpse of the young woman, seeing her mousey brown hair and scrawny form, "Just like Cassie," and a great burning rage seemed to ignite within her. Her hands flexed, her eyes glittered like those of a wild and dangerous creature, and it took great effort to keep her voice gentle, "I'll not harm you, child, I promise."

Even so, the girl stared in wide-eyed terror as the woman peeled apart the manacles as though they were made of toffee, and not hard-forged iron. She swallowed, "Are you a monster?"

Adair smiled sadly as she gently stroked the girl's face, "Yes."

"Can you not save her, please! I'm begging you."

The tattooed woman crouched and shook her head sadly, "I cannot. She has been gone too long and has travelled too far to hear my call. I cannot draw her back."

The woman wept, heartbroken, and her voice was broken, "But she's my little sister..."

"I know."

Gazing down at the thin body lying on the cold paving stone she felt the Fury swelling within, igniting into a fulminating, searing rage that threatened to overwhelm her. She ripped the last manacle apart with a low growl before turning suddenly, "Stay there, and I will see to your freedom as soon as I may," she strode up the stairs, and as she did the anger within her grew ever hotter and brighter.

Back at the Raven's Nest, the broom in Cassie's hand seemed to twitch and for an instant, it felt suddenly heavy and replete with dreadful purpose. Cassie stared at the thing for a moment and shivered.

Narissa looked up from where she was scrubbing bloodstains from the bar, "You alright there Cassie?"

The girl looked about and then shrugged, "Felt like someone just walked over my grave."

At the shrine of Morrigan's Stone, the Crone looked to the stars for a moment as if listening to something and chuckled as she polished the red apple she held in her hand upon the dark material of her shawl.

Nyx looked at the Half-Elf and favoured the man with an evil grin, "Well, well, it looks like your bodyguards have had a change of heart. You must be the one they call 'Syros the Prick' yes?

"Syros the Pyker," he spat.

Elsadore sunk her fist into the man's gut, and he doubled over, "Prick says I," chuckled Nyx, "now we must think of something suitable to do with..."

Adair stepped past the Dark Elf and with a snarl of rage she tore the man's head off.

"... you."

The tattooed woman held aloft the gory orb in her hands, and as she did her red hair cascaded about her shoulders like a crackling, living thing, the tattoos on her body glimmered, and her eyes blazed with fury. Her voice sounded like distant thunder and she spat, "NO! You may not go! I forbid it. I close the path to you and compel you to remain." She laughed manically, "You think yourself a slaver? I will teach you the true meaning of slavery mortal! You will abide in that shell, an unhappy ghost until time and corruption has turned the bones utterly to dust. Now awaken and see what your cruelty has bought you!"

There was a low rumble as the ground shook and the building trembled.

The man's eyes flicked open and gazed about in horror at sights only he could see, and his mouth worked, but no sound came.

Nyx frowned in disgust while Varoona almost dropped her sword in horror as she whispered, "Queen of Night."

Elsadore shook her head, "I hope you're not thinking of keeping that are you, for it makes for a fucking weird pet if you ask me?"

Nyx looked away and took a heavy breath before she turned her gaze to the ex-gladiator, "What is your name human?"

The big man had paused tying off the bandage he had wrapped around his friend's wound and was staring in slack-jawed terror at what had just occurred, until Nyx prodded him with the toe of her boot and brought him back to his senses, "Ah, t'is Brytaig they call me."

Elsadore stopped to glance at the man, "Brytaig the Barbarian? I saw you fight; I won money on you. What happened?"

The man still stared at the contorting face of his former boss and swallowed in fear before managing to tear his eyes away, "Th-that must have been a few years ago. I was good enough back then and won more than I lost, but I took a wound, it slowed me, and I was getting on a bit. I wasn't likely to last much longer on the sand, but I'd won enough by then that I could buy my freedom," he shrugged in resignation, "but you know how it goes. It takes coin to be free, and I had only one skill to sell. I needed money for drink so I ended up working for the likes of Syros, doing enforcing jobs, debt collecting and the like."

Nyx nodded and sniffed, "Seems to me that wiping you bastards out wouldn't be the solution I'm after. Some other fucker will just take over and soon enough I'd have another batch of louts in dire need of a good murdering. Now it strikes me that you're a bit handy with a blade, so how do you fancy taking over? You run the gang with your mate here, and in exchange for a few concessions, me and my pals won't come down here and fucking slaughter you," she glanced at the writhing head of Syros, "or worse."

"What concessions?"

"Simple enough, no more slaving, your whores have to be volunteers and you have to treat them fair, no rape or beatings. You keep the streets around the Raven's Nest free of shankers, pickpockets and the like but otherwise, you stay away from the place."

"What if the whores cheat on paying their dues, cos they will if they know they won't get no beating?"

Nyx sighed, "Look, you give them a fair cut and look out for them, and that problem should solve itself, but if some doxy decides they want to be an idiot just exile them from your turf, remove your protection and send them on their way. You know how hard some of those streets are, I doubt many would want to risk it. You might even gain a bit of respect, you never know."

The man mused, "What cut you after?"

Nyx grinned, "Call it twenty percent and we have a deal, just deliver it to the owner of the Raven's Nest."

The ex-gladiator eyed her suspiciously, "Why only twenty, you could have asked for half?"

"Because I'm not a fucking gangster and have no desire to become one."

Elsadore coughed.

Nyx gave her an ineffective glare and turned back to the gladiator, "I'll be blunt, I'm doing this for a quiet life, not to embark on a career as a criminal mastermind, my life is fucked-up enough as it is and I could do without the added aggravation, so I'll keep it simple, if you mess me about, I'll kill you and just take my chances with the next idiot in line, and if they mess me about, well I'll kill them, and so forth and so on, I'm a mercenary sword so my idea of dealing with issues generally involves a lot of stabbing and not so much chit chat, if you catch my drift. But there's an opportunity here for you. So, do you want to take it or not?"

The man eyed the leering head and grimaced, "Well, given the alternative..."

...

"Maybe she's a warlock?" muttered Varoona.

Elsadore sniffed, "Can warlocks do that?"

Nyx took a sip of her drink and shrugged, "I don't know, we've dealt with warlocks before and I know they can summon fire and lightning, conjure spirits and use their magic to strengthen and harden their bodies for battle, but that seemed... different."

Elsadore grunted, "At least she didn't bring the fucking thing back here. Though you never know, it might have brought in a bit more custom if they hung the creepy bastard over the bar like a lantern for Samhain or somesuch," she looked at where the tall woman was sitting at a table morosely staring at her hands with Cassie sitting next to her, "she looks fucking miserable though, not even Cassie seems able to cheer the bugger up."

Narissa had thrown up her hands in resigned annoyance when Nyx returned to the Raven's Nest with the cluster of half-starved wretches they had freed, "What the Hell do you expect me to do with them?"

"They've got nowhere else to go," muttered the sellsword lamely.

"This is an inn, not a hospice and I don't even have money to pay those actually working for me and now you bring me this," she sighed and shook her head, "mayhap we can at least get them something to eat I suppose," she turned to look for Maggie but shook her head as she spotted the woman already dishing up bowls of stew, "thought these slaves were supposed to do what I said, and not just please themselves," she muttered.

Nyx grinned, "It's just Maggie, you get used to her. How do you find her cooking?"

"Well, I can't complain."

"There's a first," muttered Nyx.

"Oi!"

Elsadore wandered across and tossed a bag of coins onto the bar, "While you were all being dramatic and such, I searched the body of yon Half-Elf. Seems he had a weighty purse. I figure if we split half between us, we can mayhap give over the rest to Narissa, or these poor sods, whatever seems best I suppose."

Varoona nodded towards Adair, "She get a share?"

"Don't see why not, she did her part after all, how much is there?"

"Bout forty gold."

The younger Dark Elf almost choked, "Bloody Hell, I'm in the wrong line of work," she looked at the frightened figures huddled over their bowls and sobered, "mind you..."

"We should get her drunk," Elsadore muttered as she looked at the tall woman sitting by Cassie, "or laid at least."

Nyx almost spat her beer onto the bar, "Fuck me Elsadore! You saw what she did when she was sober. Can you imagine what mayhem might happen if she was shitfaced?"

The bigger woman grinned mischievously, "Not a clue, but don't tell me you're not curious. I bet she'd be hilarious. Can you imagine someone getting fresh and touching her arse or something? She's like to rip their fucking arm off. I could be convinced to pay a coin or two to watch that."

"You could be convinced to do just about anything when you're drunk."

"T'is true, I'm an amiable lass when I'm in my cups they say. It's not my fault that some meanspirited types are like to take advantage of my good nature and provoke a brawl."

Varoona giggled, and to Nyx, she sounded like an impish child and not a blooded mercenary, "Let's do it!"

"You've been hanging about with this big idiot for too long Varoona, her bad habits are rubbing off on you" she turned her gaze to the tattooed figure, "mind you she does look a bit down in the dumps."

Elsadore shrugged, "She said she like music, and I like music, what of you Varoona?"

"Well I don't mind a tune or two, as long as you don't fucking try and sing again. That was horrible."

"Bit uncalled for, even if true."

Nyx turned back, "Fair enough then, but if she burns the tavern down or kills someone, I'm blaming the pair of you."

...

The sitting room was comfortable, decorated by rich tapestries all depicting detailed maps of various parts of many kingdoms, including The Fae, the nearest of the Human realms, fabled Albios and the coasts of mythical Thule, with its haunted, cold and unknown interior. It was warmed by a fire set within a grand fireplace and lit by witchlamps that cast a flickering light over the tapestries, including the great tapestry that showed the family tree and ancestral line of a particular lineage. The lines of this tree stretched back into fabled antiquity where it looked to root among the Aes Sídhe.

Matriarch Aventine Varro enjoyed this room, for it was a quiet place and she had a fondness for solitude at times, as well as for books and old maps. When mundane events became entirely tedious or her mind overly fretful she would retire to this chamber to think and compose her thoughts, and few were the visitors who were allowed to disturb those few moments of peace.

Today however was different, and as she gazed at her daughter her fingers drummed lightly on the arm of the chair in which she sat as she considered the sight before her. Her face was as imperious and impassive as it always was, her eyes were as cold and unreadable, and her thoughts, of course, were her own. Eventually, she drew a breath and sighed, "Very well Tallis, regale me with an explanation if you please."

Tallis-Mora tilted her head and her lips curled in a knowing smile, "What is it you wish me to explain pray tell?"

She stood before her mother, dressed in a stolas of golden satin. The floor-length garment was gorgeous and obviously expensive, it was tailored perfectly for the Dark Elf and showed off her slender curves, it left her bow arm bare and was belted at the waist by an ornate girdle of gold that held a bejewelled dagger, and it was pinned at the shoulder by an intricate clasp bearing a stone of polished amber. Her hair was braided, and her dark eyes glittered with mischievous glee.

Lily stood behind her and to one side, wearing a dress that was almost identical in style at least, though hers was of finest spider-silk. The garment was as black as night and the radiance from the golden hair of the Sunkissed Elf caused it to shimmer like moonlight reflecting off a dark sea. It was clasped at the shoulder by a brooch bearing a sapphire and the stone glimmered almost as blue and as brightly as the girl's eyes.

Aventine suppressed a smile at the sight, "Well, perhaps we can begin with the reason you have indebted yourself to my sister in order to purchase the creature standing behind you, not that she's not a pretty little thing, though she might be well advised to mask the insolent rebuke for me that I see in those charming blue eyes of hers. And perhaps you may care to explain your dress, not that you do not appear quite lovely, but I seem to recall my best efforts to garb you in a manner that suitably displayed your feminine qualities were met with fiercest protest, indignation, and if I recall correctly, cries of "I will not be forced to wear such girlish foppery," or words to that effect."

Lily did her best to suppress her involuntary giggle at the image of the petulant and sulking Tallis the woman's words invoked, but despite her efforts to mask her thoughts, the ice-cold eyes of the older Dark Elf still flicked to regard her with chilling effect.