The Tattooed Woman Pt. 29

Sala had insisted on buying her a silver clasp for her long auburn hair and presented it to her as a gesture of friendship.

She had looked at herself in the reflecting glass and shaken her head, "I feel like a poltroon to be so garishly dressed."

Selene looked up as she eyed the length of the tunica, "How so?"

Hildegard blushed, "Well, some folks say t'is unseemly for a woman to go about wearing trous like a man."

The Dark Elf nodded sagely, "Barbarians say many things, most of it shit. I say you now look the part of a well-appointed Dark Eldar in service to a noble House."

"I'm not a Dark Elf though."

Sala gave her a sympathetic smile, "Well, nobody's perfect."

The Gamesmaster was a hard-bitten Dwarf calling himself Gault. An ex-mercenary, he was about as broad as he was tall, with a barrel chest and arms so corded with muscle and leathery hands so large and calloused that it looked like he could quite easily crush her skull in his grip. He had a great beak-like nose, and his beard was braided. Even in the city he wore a hauberk of ringmail and the iron studded truncheon he carried looked as well-used as it did formidable. He smoked a pipe of carved bone and eyed the Dark Elves suspiciously, "So, t'is a bodyguard ye seek and not some foppish clown for a night of pleasure?"

Selene answered with a wicked smile, "We do indeed Master Gault, one of your finest if you will. Though I see no reason they cannot perform multiple functions for all that, so if they are at least pleasing company and easy enough on the eye then all to the good."

He snarled and waved his pipe dismissively, "Och, away with ye then! I sell fighters, not perfumed and pampered gigolos to decorate some tarts bedchamber."

Hildegard could not help but burst out laughing at the indignant cries from the Dark Elves as he turned to stomp off. Hearing her he turned, "And what the fuck are ye cackling at then?"

Her answer was instant, "You, you cheeky wee bastard."

He sniffed and his brows furrowed as he growled, "Oh, are ye now?"

"Aye! I am."

He eyed her and grinned, "You know, we have cages here aplenty. I'd bet I could find one that would fit ye well enough if I put my mind to it."

She snorted, "It wouldn't be the first gaol I've been in, and knowing my luck it I doubt it would be the last. And I can tell you for a fucking fact that the last time I was in a cell I was put there by someone a lot scarier than the likes of you!"

He chewed the end of his pipe thoughtfully, "Oh, aye?"

She held his eyes steadily and grinned, "Aye."

Stroking his beard, he regarded her a moment longer and she saw his deep-set eyes were the colour of dark flint, "Well, at least you have courage I suppose. Why is it you need a fighter? Is it for a duel? have ye gotten yerself in some predictable trouble with that harridan's tongue of yours?"

She sniffed and gave a chuckle, "No, t'is that I can't fight, and I need a good brawler who can keep me out of mischief, and mayhap prevent these Dökkálfar from taking advantage."

The Dwarf gave a snort, "Little chance of keeping you out of trouble with that gob, but I suppose I can find someone to protect yer virtue if that's what yer after."

"My virtue isn't worth protecting these days," she grinned, "now my life on the other hand, that I'd rather keep."

The Dwarf nodded, "Wise enough. Alright, have a seat over yonder and I'll have a lad fetch ye a refreshment while I gather a few for your inspection. Now, they may not be pretty enough for a Dark Elf, but they can fight."

Soon enough a half dozen ruffians were paraded before her, mostly big tough looking men but with a couple of women thrown into the mix. All had a proven record on the arena sands and despite their smiles they had the cold eyes of killers. To her mind they looked distinctly untrustworthy

She turned to Gault and shook her head, "No."

He growled, "What's wrong wi them? Each and every one has fought and prevailed in several matches."

"Oh, it's not their skill that worries me, but their fidelity. I wouldn't trust any of them to hold my beer, let alone defend my life. What else have you got?"

Sala interrupted, "Mayhap you would show us what you have in the pens, and we can make our own selection?"

"It stinks down there; I'd not think it fitting for a fine lady in that cesspit."

Hildegard gave him a look, "I'm no lady, show me the best of your worst Master Dwarf."

He shook his head and made a sound of exasperation, "As ye will."

The pens beneath the arena were clean enough, but the Gamesmaster was right, they stank of stale sweat, fear and brutality. There were rows of cells lined against the walls each with a cot and bucket. Gault nodded to them, "Here's where we keep the bandits and assorted riffraff. They're bought and collared but have neither use nor temperament for anything save fighting. These are the ones that have not yet prevailed in a match, so I cannot speak for their skill. We have some professional fighters but they're free or indentured and have rooms above. I doubt they'd hire on as bodyguard, for in truth I think they love the applause more than the coin."

Hildegard nodded, "I know the type," she pointed, "what's over there?"

Towards the far wall were a number of heavy rings bolted to the floor where a few unfortunates had been manacled and chained.

Gault grunted, "Those are the condemned."

"Condemned?"

He spat, "Aye, they're murderers and the like, sentenced to fight in death matches until they fall. No good for civilised use, or much else for that matter. I'd stay back if I was you."

One of the figures stirred at the sound of voices and looked up. She was a tall creature, Half-Orcish by her appearance, with an unkempt mane of dank hair that hung down and all but obscured her wild features. Her face had a battered look and was swollen and bruised.

Hildegard nodded towards her, "What happened here?"

"She bit a guards ear off. Bitch wouldn't let go till we clubbed her unconscious."

"Why?"

He snorted dismissively, "Who cares?"

The woman snarled, "Fucker promised an extra crust if I let him make free with his hands. He cheated me so I took his ear. Bastard's lucky I couldn't reach his balls."

Hildegard eyed the Half-Orc. She was rangy and tall, lean like whipcord and even chained to the floor she emanated a feral wariness, like some coiled beast.

"Why is she condemned?"

"Strangled her Mistress."

"What for?"

"Huh? Again, who cares, is it not enough that she did?"

The Half Orc stirred, "Bitch lied to me, promised to see me free if I killed some lover that cheated on her. I did the deed in a fair fight like she asked, and instead of upholding her part she sold me on. So, I escaped and went back, and wrung her pretty neck for her."

Hildegard looked to the Dwarf, "Can she fight, like she says."

He drew on his pipe and eyed the woman warily, "She's survived more than a dozen matches, the bitch just won't fucking die," he shrugged, "mind you, she's starting to pull a crowd at least."

"What's her name?"

"Garrow, but look, she's insane. She'll kill you first chance she gets."

Moving closer to the woman Hildegard crouched, "Garrow, can you be trusted?"

Selene moved to intercede, but Sela held out a restraining hand and shook her head.

The Half-Orc looked up at the question.

"Huh? Fuck no!"

"No? Are you certain?"

"What do you want woman? Can you no just leave me in peace?"

Hildegard chuckled, "Oh, do you have a prior engagement then?"

"Very fucking funny."

Selene sniffed and winced, "God's she's ripe."

"Eat shit, you pointy-eared strumpet," she looked at Hildegard, "and as for you, why don't you just piss off and go back to whatever perfumed shithole you come from, you pampered fuckwit."

Gault hefted his cudgel, but Hildegard waved him back before addressing the woman with a grin, "Funnily enough, not that long before I fell in with this lot I was chained up as a harlot in a place much like this, right before being whipped from my village by the priests and turned out into the wilds to starve, but that's a story for another day. I'm looking for a bodyguard, and I want one who will literally scare the living shit out of anyone seeking to harm me, and who can't be bought out from under me."

"Anyone can be bought."

"Even you?"

"Especially me. I sold my body to an asshole just the other day for the price of a crust of bread."

Hildegard shrugged, "I've done the same, and if it's that or starve I'd like as not do it again if I had to."

Turning to the Dwarf she nodded, "She'll do."

"Are ye mad? The bitch will cut your throat as soon as look at you, besides she's condemned, and not for sale."

Looking at Selene, Hildegard queried, "Did you say I could speak with the voice of the Matriarch at times? Like perchance when she's set me a task, and it's for the purpose of accomplishing that task?"

Selene nodded with a wicked smile, "You are a quick study it seems, that is so, though if you cause her embarrassment by your proclamations, you will likely not enjoy the result."

"Fair enough," she turned again to Gault, "I speak for House Varro in this. I want her. Do what must be done and see her taken to the manse."

"But..."

"Today, Master Dwarf."

"Fine! But don't come crying to me when she murders you."

"I won't," she turned to the Half-Orc, "we'll talk after you're fed and washed. I'd ask you don't run off or escape until you've heard my offer."

She sniffed, "You'll feed me?"

"Aye, even if we disagree, I'll still see you fed at least, and if you behave there will be a room, a bed and a bath for you."

"Then I'll listen, but I make no promises beyond that."

Hildegard nodded, "Fair enough. I have further business today, so I'll see you at supper."