Novel Ashen Ghost. Chapter 23 is up!

3.2 Wanted fugitive, homeless detective.

Cleo woke up once more in the sewers, feeling less tired and starved this time. She patted her robe and sighed in relief, Chaffaud's scroll was still there. The Lady got up to her feet and wandered outside as her mind cleared up. The hunger for drugs was back, and she wondered how long she could ward it off before having to turn to the dreadful smoke again.

Some shouting attracted Cleo's attention, it was coming from further down the street. She could discern a group of armed men, shouldering their way through the docks' crowd. The Lady scrambled to her feet in a scare, going back towards the tunnel. There was no certainty the guards were looking for her, but one could never be too careful. They were heading in her direction though, she noted, perhaps searching for a murderer? Cleo wondered how much of a commotion her crime had brought on. She hid in a corner near the entrance and took a peek. Half a dozen beggars were blocking the path of a couple citywatch men, between the canal and the narrow lane.

"Out of the way, you old fart!" One of the intruders said, grabbing his spear in a threatening gesture.

"Oy, what is you soldier folks doing in these parts?" The elder protested, standing in front of his flock.

"Aye, seems to me here's not clean enough for your like." Another mendicant remarked.

"We're looking for a Lady, one with a burnt face." A watchman spoke.

"Oy its mi, good sir. The lady of flowers, in the flesh." Said the pox marked leader. A concert of laughs and snorts welcomed the jest.

The guards did not seem to appreciate the joke however, for one threw the butt of his spear into the old man's belly. A violent melee ensued but the Lady in question did not waste time watching it, she escaped further into the darkness. She bent down as she treaded the wet, dirty ground, trying to ignore the smell. Cleo had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away. The filthy corridors were a maze, she realized after a few turns, one could easily get lost in them. She paused to gather herself and listened nervously for incoming pursuers. The sounds of the battle were gone now, and Cleo waited anxiously for a long, dozen minutes.

"Little lady?" Came a shaky calling. She recognized the elder.

"It’s just miself, them bastards are gone. You can come out." Cleo kept silent, not sure she could trust the man.

"Oy, you're gonna catch somethin' nasty in there, get out now. I’m too old for this shit, crouchin' here hurt mi back." He complained. Cleo took a few tentative steps in the voice's direction.

"What guarantees do I have that the citywatch is gone?" She answered, weakly.

"Guarantees? Jus' mi word. Can't do nothin' better I'm afraid." He answered.

Cleo was still doubtful and scared, but she was tired. Any watchmen would have rushed inside the moment she spoke anyway. Her only other option being losing herself in a dark labyrinth, she gave up and walked out.

"See, jus' mi and the pals." He smiled when seeing her. His companions were further behind, caring for the bruises and scratches from the fight.

"You have my utmost gratitude." She bowed her thanks. "Though the reason for such a show of bravery eludes me." She asked, intrigued.

"You spent the night here in the stink with us. You begged on the cobbles with us. Makes you one of us, lady or not." He smiled and some of his companions nodded behind him.

Cleo did not know how to feel about being accepted in this new coterie. She gave them a curtsy though, it seemed appropriate.

"You really are a lady then, the way you talk and all." He seemed taken aback.

"I imagine changing my manner of speech could be a good idea." She mused out loud.

"Them guards said you killed a priest. That true?" The elder raised his eyebrow. She did not react to the accusation. "He the one that did those?" He pointed at her scars. Cleo reflexively put her hand over them. "Just saw a bit is all. I imagine what's under the hair is worse."

"I confess to the crime yes, but I assure you the beast only received a long due punishment. He deserved worse, if I may add." There was no guilt in her, only horror at the violence she had been capable of. But Cleo felt like justifying her deed to this strange man, he had stood up for her after all.

"All folks have a past, we don't care much for such things around here. Never liked the white bastards miself anyway." He shrugged.

She was glad for the ancient's indifference. Leaving her new shelter, however crass it was, would not help dealing with her troubles. The citywatch was after her and, according to Ben, so were Chaffaud's retainers. The Lady glanced at her only allies, feeling gratitude, but also shame at her inability to repay them. She steeled herself for another harsh day.



****



"Oy lass, how many times I have to tell you? A proper cough is the secret to good begging. You sound like a kitten sneezin’." The elder scolded her.

Cleo had decided to spend the rest of the morning practicing her new trade. She needed to eat, and there were more names on the list left to cross. The list she had switched for the Emperor's scroll, she recalled. The Lady knew it by heart now, so giving it up did not hinder her investigation. She had done the exchange on an impulse, without thinking about a dreadful consequence. The Parkhat would read it, and together with the church incident, he might deduce her name from the information. In any case, Ben was already working for the man, and there was no certainty the thief would keep her identity a secret.

The Lady and the beggar had been sitting down on a cobbled street for an hour, in view of a noble house. Seeking charity and waiting to see if the owner was connected to her. It had proved rather fruitless attempts on both counts, and she was beginning to lose faith. Cleo was not suited for this kind of work. Thinking back on her life, she had not been good at much but getting into trouble. Her only recent successes were a murder and breaking out of imprisonment. Perhaps the life of a criminal would be a better fit for the Lady, she let out a sad laugh at the irony.

"Oy, laughin’ won't help either. Try the puppy eyes, it works well for you women types, mi tell you." For a lack of a better option, Cleo tried the suggestion. "I think you need to use both eyes for it to work." The beggar said, after considering the result.

She sighed, it was not helping with her mood. Deceiving Ben had weighed on her conscience more than she would have thought, but betraying Brother would be worse. She also had forsaken the thief due to his dangerous relations, and she missed his support. The young man might be dull-witted, but his presence had been reassuring. Not to mention the food he brought, her growling stomach reminded her.

Another worrying matter was the fate of Gravelroy and its citizens, their safety might depend on the information she possessed. Though her hypothesis could be erroneous, she told herself. Perhaps her desire to be reunited with her sibling had made her mistake a coincidence for a scheme. He could just be sailing home, returning to the homeland from war and meeting with their family. The young woman did not know if she had made the right choice. Handing the letter over to the Parkhat would have meant abandoning the only item of value she had. The thought made her feel even more helpless, and Cleo recalled how she had dealt with that particular emotion back in her cell. It gave her an idea.

"Oy, that's what I talked about! Good lass, you have talent, mi tell you." The elder said after a while, when a passerby threw a coin at her feet. "Where did you learn to drool like this? Impressive, it is." He nodded approvingly.

"I learned this peculiar skill in a place you would definitively not want to visit." Despite her words, she could not ward off a smug grin.

Some disturbance happening at the domain's entrance got her attention. Members of the household were trying to clear the street of peddlers, shouting harsh words at them. The merchants did not cower in front of the threats though, and the whole affair was getting rough. Standing up to nobles would mean hanging in most parts of the world, Cleo reflected. But here in the free city, their titles were only remnants of a long forgotten past. They had no rights of life and death over Gravelroy’s commoners. Of course the highborn exploited the poor here like everywhere else, but they had to use a different kind of power to do so: money. The general populace could live and do as they pleased, as long as they could afford it. They could even run the city, she recalled the Parkhat. It was far from a perfect system, but at least everyone had a chance, however small it was.

Cleo suddenly snapped out of her musings, recognizing a face in the commotion. A man of the cloth, a bishop she had already met...



****



Young Cleo was furious. The surrounding tents went by in a blur as she raced between them. She passed bewildered soldiers in a blink, splashing them as well as her blue dress with mud as she did. The Lady did not stop when a bored-looking guard scrambled to his feet and tried to stop her, only too late. The drape door behind him flew open, revealing an austere interior. Brother was sitting behind a makeshift desk, staring at various parchments. Reports, missives, and maps, concentration lines showing on his forehead. He startled at her sudden entry, before signaling the sorry looking guard to take his leave. There was a second man, but he was only another of those white-clad half-wits who now infested the land, so Cleo ignored him.

"Dear sister, I must admit some surprise at your visit. This place is too close from danger, surely a war camp is not a proper..." He stood up in his chair.

"Brother!" She cut him short, shouting. " You cannot do this!" The young woman banged her fist against the wood.

"The process is well on its way, I am afraid." Brother gave an indifferent shrug.

"Do you realize the kind of disaster this would bring to the Empire no, to the world? Please tell me that you don't, or else..." She spoke frantically.

"I must ask you to calm yourself down, this is not how someone of your station should act..." Brother held out his hand trying to soothe her temper.

"YOU SOLD OUR HOMELAND TO FANATICS!" She screamed atop her lungs. Her sibling shrank back into his seat at the outburst. He threw an anxious glance at his guest.

"You are exaggerating. The holy church preaches honor, duty, and loyalty. Values you have long forgotten, or rather never possessed. Do I have to call in my men and have them escort you out, sister?" He said, regaining his composure.

"I am afraid I must report such conduct to my superiors, a lone incident could be forgiven, but this is not the first time..." The Bishop addressed the general, using the opportunity to interrupt.

"I know you think you can use them to your advantage, but you will end up serving as their puppet! They will send you to their senseless bloodbaths called crusades! Then they will creep their insidious morals into the minds of the people, OUR people! How can you be so blind…" Cleo went on, ignoring the religious man.

"Senseless bloodbaths? The heretics and the faithless roam free on the other side of the sea, while..." The holy man protested, outraged.

"There are plenty of heretics to the far West in the wastelands, why have you not sent a single expedition there? Perhaps the lack of gold, silk, or spices put a damper on your fervor?" Cleo shot back acidly, glaring at the man.

She stopped short in her speech as a strong set of hands grabbed her shoulders from behind. Cleo tried resisting with all her might.

"Mind your tongue, these types of words have no place in the Holy Empire now, were you not my sister I..." Brother warned her.

"Please Brother, stop this! Have I not done all which you required from me? I even married that imbecile..." Cleo pleaded, letting herself fall down on her knees.

"And you have yet to produce an heir. You should go back to your husband and do your duty. Make our family and the Emperor proud, instead of throwing a fit like a little child.” Brother scolded her. “You always have done that, speaking your mind without care for consequences. What a foolish, selfish girl your are, duty is a foreign concept to you." He shook his head in disbelief and signaled the guard to bring her out.

"You have started a war that will engulf the whole continent, is it not enough already? Do you have to bring the lands overseas into it as well?" She shouted in her despair.

"You talk as if I was the only one deciding such matters. There are a lot of forces at play, and the Empire must find a way to survive them. And may I remind you that you did not refuse the wedding proposal." He pointed

"I accepted it for you!” She cried out. “You may not be the only one yes, but you could stop this madness! You have sway over...” But her words died out as she was dragged away.



****



Cleo was shaking as it all came back to her. How she had stood up vehemently to the church’s growing influence in her homeland. The countless arguments with Brother and her parents. Some harsh words had been exchanged with her husband too, though she had more difficulty recalling those. YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF. The writings on her cell’s walls had told her. And those were right, she concluded, she had been exiled for causing trouble. The Lady had been an embarrassment to her household, a hindrance to her brother’s plans, and a torn in the Holy Empire’s side.

It was that day she had remembered regretting, the day when the Lady had ruined her relationship with Brother. Her younger self had felt mortified afterward, but she was a different girl now. Cleo had found her enemy, one whose identity was clear: the Holy Church. She had fought them and lost, before being imprisoned by its followers. And now they were coming to invade this city. The young woman wondered if it was worth standing up for, even against her own kin and impossible odds.

Freedom of faith was one of the city’s qualities she approved of. Gravelroy's citizens could revere the one god, its variant from overseas, the twelve old gods, or anything else. It did not stop idiots from believing in nonsense, but at least they could choose which nonsense. And they were allowed to do so without fearing the pyre or the stonings, at least until the Holy Empire would arrive. She liked the idea of a city standing in the center of the world, spitting in the face of the bishops’ and kings’ wars, very much like the beggars did. Gathering her resolve, the young woman stood up. She was done staying in Brother’s shadow, it had gotten her nowhere good in the past.

“Oy, what are you doing?” The elder frowned.

“I found my enemy.”

 

3.3 Turncoat.

Ben was pacing up and down along the pier, scaring away sailors and merchants alike. He was furious. The damn cracked girl had betrayed him, and Mae was in trouble as a result. The worst part was, there was nothing he could do about it but wait and pray Cleo would show up. Waiting and worrying about Mae seemed to be the only things he did these times, it made him feel helpless. The Lady had avoided telling him where she currently lived, he had not paid much attention to it at the time. But now it made sense, she had planned to keep the scroll for herself. He doubted she'd come to the meet, but his only other option would be to wander the streets randomly. The thief perked up, seeing a familiar figure approaching. He clenched his fists.

"Cleo, ya got some nerve to show up." Ben stared at her angrily.

"We don't have time to deal with personal grudges.” She seemed desperate. “There is something I must tell you…"

The girl stopped short as if startled, and Ben saw the reason why: a hooded figure had tried to sneak up on her. Right, Brownie was here too, Ben had forgotten about him in his frenzy. The man had not wanted to send the thief alone this time, considering the previous disaster. The lass stepped back in fright.

"I believe you have something in your possession wich interests me." The man said, slowing his approach now that he had been discovered.

"Who is this person?" She demanded.

The Lady stepped back cautiously and shot Ben a glance. He glared at her, ignoring the question while long coat kept advancing. She moved back as he did, growing visibly scared.

"This lad here works for the Parkhat, his right-hand guy or some." He explained.

"I want you to reveal yourself!" She protested.

"Now give him the damn scroll, ya've been enough trouble as it is."

Ben growled, now drawing close threateningly as well, and Cleo grabbed the handle of her knife in fear. Brownie paused, arms stretched out in a show of peace, then he took off the cloth covering his head. Cleo’s eyes widened, before she began running away towards the pier's edge. Both men startled for a second, then rushed after her. The girl turned back suddenly as she pulled out a letter from her robe, and held it over the water in defiance. Both men stopped short, and Ben was terrified. The girl was holding Mae’s life in her hands, and she was apparently scared of brown coat. This made for a dangerous situation, he swallowed hard.

"Do not step any further, else I will throw this away!” She cried out, addressing the Parkhat’s man. She was staring right at him, so Ben used the opportunity to step closer while out of her sight. “Now you will explain me why..."

She was interrupted when the thief jumped on her, throwing the Lady to the ground. He battled against her for a few moments, trying to pull the letter off her hands. She scratched, bit, and screamed at him. But it all was useless for Ben was stronger. The lass was shouting and crying now, as stood back up and handed the scroll to brown coat.

“I lack the time to deal with this situation myself.” Brownie said as he took the parchment eagerly. “I want this woman brought to our place on the docks, she could prove herself valuable.” He ordered as he began reading. That wasn’t part of the deal, Ben frowned. He hesitated, as angry as he was with the girl, handing her over to cutthroats felt wrong.

“You sold me to him! You traitor!” Cleo screamed fiercely at him.

“I did what? Yer one to talk, who betrayed who?” He shot back, furious. How dared she? “Why did you do it?” He grabbed her robe and pulled her back to her feet, glaring at her threateningly.

“I… I could not bring myself to betray my brother…” The lady shrank back under his stare, scared.

“Damn yer brother! He doesn’t give a shit about ya! Why d’ya think ya spent four years in that church? If he wanted ya out, ya’d be free already. I got inside easy, and he has a goddamn army!” He yelled angrily at her, and she seemed mortified from his words.

“It… it’s complicated…” She said weakly after a while.

“Yer pretty stupid for a smart lass, how come ya didn’t figure it out already?” He scolded her, and the look she gave him stopped Ben from speaking any further. She seemed about to break down, tears were gathering at the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t have the time to partake in such a touching reunion.” Brownie interrupted them, putting the scroll away under his coat and seemingly satisfied. “Bring her to the hideout once you’re done here, I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you don’t.” He said before walking away, leaving the two alone on the pier. Ben wanted to punch the smug asshole, but that wouldn’t help his cause.

“Why did you have to give the letter to this man? Now everything is over…” The Lady was sobbing now.

“That was the deal. The guy has Mae, I told ya already.”

She stopped screaming, seeming to notice something behind them, and Ben followed her stare. A group of mean-looking thugs were coming down the docks in their direction, Ben cursed.

“Please do not hand me out to him, this man works for Chaffaud!” She yelled. “I saw him! I remembered my wedding, he was there! He was the Lord’s servant… Now nobody can stop all this…” Cleo was ranting frantically.

“Now, how…”

Ben turned back to face her, but instead of an explanation, he got a foot to his genitals. He fell to his knees from the pain while the lady began running away. It was useless, Ben thought as he scrambled after her, there was nothing but water where she was going. What the heck was happening? A concert of shouting behind him got his attention, the big bastards were in a hurry too. Cleo reached the end of the pier and hesitated, before jumping down. A loud splashing noise ensued, and Ben sped up. The lass was already paddling away desperately, he cursed and dived after her. He surfaced quickly and located her, she was struggling, her robe hindering her movements. The thief was a good swimmer thanks to a life around rivers and lakes, so he caught up swiftly.

“Get away from me…” She tried to protest but she was having trouble keeping her head above the surface, swallowing water with each breath. Ben grabbed her arm to bring the girl back and she resisted. “You work for Chaffaud, you liar…” He took hold of her under the armpit and began swimming back, dragging the woman along. “Please, do not bring me to them… Brother is coming…” She panicked, making the rescue difficult. As the pair was struggling, Ben wondered how to get her out of this mess. There was a ladder emerging from the waters and leading up to the pier, which was now swarming with henchmen. The girl was obviously neither wanting nor strong enough to go up there, he reflected. She was swallowing a lot of water resisting and shouting at him, he had to figure out something.



****



“Maybe you knocked her a bit too hard. Friggin’ brute.” The whore scolded him. She was sitting on the bed next to Cleo, who has been lying there unconscious for hours.

“She’s breathin’, ain’t she?” He shrugged. It was more than the bitch deserved after betraying him and putting Mae in danger. Not to mention kicking him in the nut.

Ben was back at the criminal hideout on the docks, or maybe it was Chaffaud’s, he didn’t know anymore. It was well into the evening and the thief was pacing up and down the narrow cell, racking his brains.

“Damn she’s an ulgy sight. I know you told me about it, but seeing the girl in person is something else.” Mae sighed as she examined the lady.

“So, what do ya make of everythin’ I told ya?” He needed someone to make sense of things, for he sure couldn’t.

“The only thing I know for certain, is that brown coat has figured out her identity.” She pointed.

“Think what she said is true? Brownie workin’ fer the other asshole?”

“It explains how easily he got you inside the church but… I don’t know, lad. It would mean Chaffaud controls everything.” She didn’t seem to like the prospect.

“What is he so afraid of then, if he controls everything?”

“He’s scared of being exposed. If folks learn that he works for the Empire…” She made an ominous gesture with her hand.

“Who cares about who own the city anyway? The Parkhat, lords, or the Empire…” He shrugged, he had to get Mae out of this mess, rich folks could fight for who sat on thrones as they always did.

“And would you care for an entire army showing up at the gates?” Cleo’s voice startled them as she woke up. “I believe my brother is going to invade Gravelroy on his way back from the crusades.” They both looked at the girl wide-eyed.

“Damn, I ain’t letting those friggin’ holy bastards settle down here!” Mae said, her face twisted in anger.

“I thought no kingdom could take the place, else it makes a big ruckus or somethin’.” Ben pointed.

“I think the Holy Empire doesn’t care, they are already at war with half the continent, a few more countries won’t stop them.” Mae spoke.

“But what’s so important about this city?” He frowned, surprised Gravelroy’s stench could attract more than flies.

“Many things. The weapon trade for one, Gravelroy’s smiths are renowned all across the world, their crafts sell a high price everywhere. The Emperor could obtain a monopoly on them.” Cleo explained. “The harbor would also give them another access to the Wilds. Between the Kenmard front in the north, the western mountains, and the free city at the south, the Union’s forces would find themselves trapped. Ultimately, they would control the center of the continent.”

“The port allows the holy bastards to launch crusades further east.” Mae added. “And money, there’s always money.”

“They also could use the port to invade Bomlardy by the sea. Finally, the church want to get rid of a place where other religions thrive.”

Ben tried to wrap his mind around all the political and military implications, it made his head spin.

“It all sounds important, but what can we…” He scratched his hair.

“And you know what happens to a city after a battle, lad.” The whore interrupted him.

Her words gave Ben pause, as much as he didn’t like the place, he sure didn’t want to see it plundered. The thief had seen it happen to villages and it had been ugly enough, but a whole city? He shuddered picturing it.

“Aye, I wouldn’t like it. But what do ya want to do against a whole damn army?” He frowned.

“There must be a way we can warn the population about the impending doom.” Cleo proposed.

“Ya don’t want to do that. It would cause a panic. I’ve seen it in small towns and it ain’t pretty, I tell ya. But in a city this big?” Ben felt sick at the thought. “If the army shows up when folks are running around like headless chickens…” He cringed.

“So we need to know when it is scheduled to happen before making a decision.” The Lady nodded grimly.

“Who said we anyway? I don’t trust ya. And I hate to remind ya, but I don’t see the thugs outside letting ya out.” Ben objected.

“I agree with the bumpkin on this, you kept the information to yourself. And now you just decide to change your mind and betray your Empire?” Mae put both her hands on her hips, staring at the girl.

“I… I am not letting the church roam free. I just discovered they are the reason for my incarceration…” She blurted.

“What about your brother? Ya said it’s his army.” Ben asked, and she averted her eyes.

“We could tell the Parkhat’s men, the real ones I mean. Perhaps we can find him.” Cleo proposed.

“I asked to see the guy, the thugs outside think they work for him.” Ben rolled his eyes at Mae’s words, what was it with her and that damn invisible man? “Trouble is, brown coat is their only way to contact the underworld king. And little ghost here says he’s a traitor.”

The three of them stared at the floor for a while, considering the daunting situation.

“I believe the harbor will be the target of an attack, but we cannot search every one of Chaffaud’s ships. The Lord could take notice and react unpredictably. And as you said, we need to know when the attack will happen.” Cleo broke the silence. “Now, I have studied the Emperor’s message long enough to remember it. I should be able to decipher it, were I to get my hands on the right book from Chaffaud…”

“I could go to Gilbet’s house, the treacherous Lord is still living there…” Mae exclaimed.

“Or ya could stay in yer damn bed, and I’d go get the goddamn book.” Ben scolded her.

“I would have to be coming along. Identifying the right tome could prove difficult and as is my understanding, both of you cannot read.” Cleo proposed, ignoring the thief’s objection.

“What we need to do is gettin’ out of this place.” Ben interrupted. Damn women, going ahead with mad plots and ignoring the most pressing matters.



****



After an hour of mad scheming, Ben exited the chamber under the big jailer’s glare. He was glad Brownie had not given any orders concerning him he thought happily as the thug locked the door behind, before looking at the main hall. The stone walls and wooden floor were covered in dust and a long table stood at the center of the room, a dozen cutthroats sitting around it. They were gambling and drinking loudly, ignoring his presence. Ben sighed, he didn’t like the plan. But Mae had made up her mind, damn stubborn mule that she was. The thief only wished he would not always get the short end of the stick when choosing roles. Who was going to take care of the old woman if he died? He was supposed to create a mess big enough for the girls to escape, while the criminals ran after him. He had been forbidden to burn down the place though, he sighed, fire would make everything so much easier. He turned back to the guard, luckily it was the one Ben had knocked down with a door not long ago. It explained the angry stare and the swollen face.

“How’s the nose?” He gave a teasing smirk. That set the guy off in an instant, he growled threateningly and drew closer, his face inches away from Ben’s.

“Now listen, you little shit. I don’t care what the boss said…”

See, when they are angry, huge folks like to make you feel small. They enjoy making you cower in fear, by seeing up close how big they are. What big guys don’t like, is a knee to the groin. One they didn’t see coming because they were growling in your face. Ben didn’t give the thug time to recover afterward, the man was never going to leave him be anyway. He drew his knife and plunged the blade into the guy’s throat. His eyes bulged out in surprise, and blood gushed profusely from the wound. Ben swiped his victim’s keys and unlocked the door. The mountain of a man fell to the ground beside him, in a loud crashing noise. Ben turned back to the main room, where a dozen pair of angry eyes stared at the commotion. Well that was the point, but there was no need to wait for them, so Ben sprinted like hell towards the outside exit.

“Oy, bastard jus’ killed Fritz.”

“Come back here, you little cunt!”

More angry shouts came from behind Ben, followed by the sound of people scrambling off after him. He dashed forward and threw his shoulder at the door, revealing the docks and their busy evening crowd. The thief pretended to escape, but stopped right beside the entrance. He would love to be running madly on the streets or hiding somewhere already, but he was not supposed to lose his pursuers. That was not the plan, he had to keep them chasing him, making the bastards pissed should work. He waited for the sound of footsteps to grow louder, clutching his weapon. As soon as he saw a glimpse of movement, Ben slashed towards it. He didn’t spare a glance to his victim’s wounds, he instantly resumed his flight. More curses and shouts confirmed his success, but it didn’t feel like a victory. He had just made a dozen of the city’s most dangerous assholes right furious.

He shouldered his way through the crowd, glancing anxiously behind him. A good number cutthroats were following and pushing passersbys aside, their faces twisted in rage. If the sight was not enough, there was another worry on his mind: the girls. Ben couldn’t manage to get a head count of his pursuers, maybe some had stayed back there. Well, there was not much he could do about it but pray, he had enough trouble on his hands already. He cursed, and took a sharp turn into a side alley.

 

3.4 Girls night out.

Meanwhile, Cleo was waiting inside the cell, ear to the door and listening anxiously to the commotion outside. When things grew silent, she nodded to the whore and opened the door cautiously. The sight welcoming them made the lady freeze in shock, an heavy-muscled and tattooed man was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Had Ben just killed such a scary person? And he was now followed by a dozen similarly shaped beasts? She swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Come on lass, you should have the stomach for such things by now.” Mae pushed her aside impatiently. She knelt down beside the corpse and picked up the man’s knife. “Ben left this to us, though the idiot is probably going to need it more than we do.” She grunted and stepped in the main room.

Cleo steeled herself and followed in what seemed like a poorly maintained tavern. Luckily the place appeared empty but for chairs and tables scattered on the dusty floor. The women advanced swiftly and paused at a corner before the entrance’s hallway, hearing some voices in that direction. They took a peek and saw a bleeding criminal sitting down, while his comrade cared for his wound next to him. The Lady watched in surprise as Mae walked out of hiding and towards the bulky men, seemingly confident in the knife she held behind her back. The healthy one turned his head and startled at the newcomer, before the whore stuck the weapon in his eye in one fluid motion. Cleo stared wide-eyed, as Mae pulled the blade out and went on to kill the wounded one. How could she do that without flinching?

“What?” She asked, seeing the look on Cleo’s face. “Oh come on, girl! They didn’t get those scars baking friggin’ pastries, you know. The bastards probably deserved worse than a quick death.” The young woman nodded weakly and followed her fellow murderer outside.

“I heard about the mess you made at that church. They said nobody could recognize the body.” The older woman pointed. “Didn’t think you’d startle at a simple murder.”

“I would argue not being in the soundest state of mind at the time.” Cleo averted her eyes from the old woman’s.

The night was falling and torches were lit up on the docks, as the two made their way through the dark and the crowd. Cleo considered her new companion, the whore was not what she would have expected. She had trouble reconciling Ben’s depictions with the stern-looking woman who had slaughtered two criminals in cold blood moments ago. He had talked about that woman like she was the most kind and beautiful individual. The Lady wondered how different a person could be, depending on the viewer’s eye. It reminded her of her old image of Brother, the brilliant and handsome man her former-self used to follow seemed not so perfect from her new perspective.

“Anyway, now you know what to expect if you screw things up, once we get inside Gilbet’s house.” Mae’s voice pulled her out of her considerations, and the young woman shuddered at the threat.

“I assure you that I have no intention of adding you to the long list of people who wish me harm.” She tried to appear confident saying so.

“I’m still not convinced about your story. Seeing brown coat once with Chaffaud is no proof.” The whore scowled.

“Then why help me?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you could be right. Plus I’m curious about...”

The whore was interrupted by a violent coughing fit, it lasted a good minute. Cleo shot her a worried glance but the woman ignored her concern and walked ahead.

“Don’t you tell Ben about that.” Mae shot over her shoulder.

“I very much doubt he will be willing to have a civil conversation with me anytime soon.” She pointed, recalling their argument in the harbor.

“Well, he sure was furious.” Mae nodded. “Though to be honest, I’m surprised you’re still alive after what you did. I don’t know what he sees in you.” She shook her head in disbelief.

Cleo was stung by those words, but refrained herself from answering. The whore had a strong temper, and she had a knife to accompany it. The Lady wondered if their scheme could work with such lack of trust, the plans had many uncertainties already. The pair paused at a street corner, in view of a rather big and wealthy domain, Gilbet’s home she assumed.

“Perhaps we should wait for Ben, in case something goes awry.” Cleo proposed, seeing the numerous guards tending the gate.

“We don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“If he escapes…”

“Bring him around soldiers? He’s likely to cause more trouble than help.” Mae snorted. “A lot of Chaffaud’s men have already seen his face anyway. What worries me is that, if you’re right about brown coat, he could have told the councilman about me.”

Cleo bit her lip with anxiety.

“Stay here while I find a way to sneak you inside unnoticed. Try to hide somewhere, you stand out with your… Well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The whore said and left before Cleo could voice more doubts.



****



Cleo’s resolve was wavering as time passed, waiting in the shadows for the other woman. She wondered what her shaky alliance with Ben and Mae could do to help the city. If the Holy Empire was coming, it meant it was willing to face the whole continent to capture Gravelroy. Maybe letting her brother take it swiftly would mean fewer victims? But the Lady did not want to let the ones responsible for her four-year nightmare to win. She wanted to fight that cursed church with all her might. If she could foil the initial attack it could force the invaders into a siege, leaving time for potential allies to intervene.

Cleo had waited for the better part of an hour when some movement at the gate attracted her attention. The whore was back, carrying a basket and accompanied by a well-dressed man. The lady carefully stepped out the shadows and signaled her presence to them. She had not expected Lord Gilbet to come out in person, she recognized him despite the years and the added weight. His face was still as gentle as she recalled from the times she had met him as a young girl, during her visits to the city. She saw no signs of him remembering her though, time had been less kind with her looks. Mae handed her loud out, revealing an assortment of clothes. The Lady tried to overcome the shame of disrobing on a street corner.

“Don’t change now. Clean up first, you idiot. There’s so much filth on you the guards won’t let us in, even with their Lord beside us.” Mae scolded her.

“Listen Maeva, I have been more than helpful with your insane requests, could you please explain me…”

“Now shut your trap, Gilbet. You let friggin’ thugs take the kid from you, you cunt.” She retorted acidly.

“Dear God, but what was I supposed to do? They had a knife to Sebastian’ throat!” The councilman protested, it sounded like they had the conversation many times over.

While the two argued, Cleo cleaned up her face and arms as well as she could manage without a mirror. She winced at the rag once finished, its filthy state didn’t give her much hope about the condition of her skin. She proceeded to undress quickly to put on a dark servant robe and a shawl. She congratulated the whore for her thoughtfulness, Cleo could hide most of her face under the fabric. There was also a pair of leather shoes, and her wounded feet were grateful for those. Mae inspected the overall result and did a few corrections here and there, before nodding, satisfied.

“I guess it’s as good as it’s going to get. Let’s go, Chaffaud is out for now but there’s no telling when he’ll get back.”

“Are you sure you are not mistaken in your suspicions? I know he has been quite… paranoid lately, but I cannot believe a fellow councilman and friend to be selling out Gravelroy to the empire.” The Lord spoke.

“Wake up you damn fool, everyone has a price.” Mae rolled her eyes.

“You told him?” Cleo exclaimed.

“Don’t worry it’s only Gilbet, he ain’t part of no plot. The idiot thinks everyone is ‘nice’.” She spat the word. “The whole city knows Chaffaud is rotten to the core, but that guy here can’t believe it.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Could you stop speaking about me as if I’m some place else?” The man protested. “And yes, I believe that given proper chances, anyone can…”

“Holy tit, will you shut up? Let’s go.” Mae sighed.

The three went through the gate and into the residence’s courtyard unchallenged, much to Cleo’s relief. The darkness and the disguise would not work against a close inspection, but guards didn’t pay attention to servants. More soldiers wearing Chaffaud’s livery welcomed the trio inside, they seemed frantic. Both women followed Gilbet upstairs, before stopping in a corridor.

“The room at the end is where my fellow councilman stores the goods he salvaged from the arson.” The Lord said, indicating a door guarded by two armsmen.

“Well, you know what to do.” Mae said, and the Lord nodded weakly, not looking very confident.

Cleo watched together with the other woman, as Gilbet advanced towards the two men. She raised an eyebrow at the whore but got no explanation, so she tried to listen to the conversation.

“Good evening gentlemen, may I ask for a moment of your time? I know your occupation to be tedious and Lord Chaffaud might not be always the most… generous man.” Both men startled at the declaration. “As a reward for your services in bringing safety to my household, I have arranged for a little token of my gratitude.” The two perked up. “Nothing fancy I’m afraid, simply an evening meal.”

“That’s… very generous of you, my Lord. But we are supposed to stay here and…” One tried to protest.

“Of course, of course. You have big responsibilities. Worry not, I will have my own men replace you while you take a well-deserved break.”

“Well…” They looked at each other, seemingly reluctant.

“You surely deserve it after all, you are doing difficult work, important even. People often forget to show appreciation for it, I believe. Permit me to demonstrate my gratitude in the name of the city.”

“…”

“Please, I insist. Think of it as doing me a favor. There’s some ale waiting for you, or so I heard.”

“Did you say ale?” The speaker’s companion coughed to interrupt.

“Can’t really refuse doing his lordship a favor now, can’t we?” He said with an innocent air.

He dragged the other guard away and bowed his thanks to Gilbet. The two women waited for the soldiers to be out of sight before joining the councilman.

“I dare hope my own retainers would not let themselves be bribed so easily.” He sighed.

“They’re only men. Tell them what they want to hear and they do anything you want. Their work is hard, their boss is treating them poorly and they deserve better.” Mae was wearing a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t some coin work easier?” Cleo pointed.

“Now THAT would be a bribe. Whereas the meal and the ale they felt like they deserved. Plus offering coin to make them go away would look right suspicious.”

Cleo marveled at the whore ingenuity, before the trio brought their attention back to the door. Mae was first through it, followed closely by the Lord. The both of them stopped as soon as they entered, and Cleo had to squeeze herself in to understand why. The room was small and dark, but in the mess of crates and boxes laid a human form. Gilbet quickly lit a candle, revealing a man, sitting and the floor and tied up with ropes. The Lady gasped. His face was unrecognizable, covered with bruises and blood, but the coat was unmistakable.

“What is the Parkhat’s right-hand doing in my house, and in such a sad state?” Gilbet exclaimed.

“He seems to be unconscious…” Cleo knelt beside the wounded man.

“Holy twat, you guys are useless. Gilbet, go get your own guards and close the door. You, start looking for your friggin’ book.” Mae ordered.

The two realized their bodies obeyed before their brains could object, and Cleo envied the whore’s authority. She began searching, sorting all the books she found in different piles for further inspection. She was looking for signs of frequent use, or works commonly found in the Empire. Perhaps inconspicuous tomes deserved a closer look, she started a pile for them too. The councilman came back minutes later, having dealt with his task.

“How is he faring? God, what are we to do if…” She heard him panic behind her.

“Gilbet, it would be of great help if you could go through Chaffaud’s room and bring back all the books you’d find there.” Mae spoke.

“Right, of course. But how…”

“Just go. Figure out something.” The prostitute shot back. The sound of the door closing informed the Lady of his leave.

“You believe the scoundrel to be keeping the tome in his chambers?” She raised an eyebrow at the older woman.

“I don’t know, I just want to keep him busy. I can’t stand him fussing.” She shrugged, before bringing her attention to the unconscious man. “Damn, he’s been beaten hard. Makes you question whose side this one is on, doesn’t it?”

She slapped him a few times, and quite rudely so, but he did not wake up. Cleo went back to her investigation for a while, until the sound of footsteps made her jump in fright. The tome she was holding fell from her hands, startling the whore. Both stared at the door in fright, before sighing in relief when Gilbet’s face showed through the entrance.

“Here.” He handed a couple more volumes to Cleo. “I believe I proved myself rather ingenious to get these.” He smiled at Mae smugly.

“Good man. Now can you look after our guest, he seems in bad shape.”

“What if you find nothing?” He said now looking at Cleo, who had no idea how to answer.

“And what if we do, then we’re in a friggin’ ton of shit. Better start thinking about that.” The whore pointed dryly.

“Well of course, if Chaffaud is plotting we have to stop him.”

Cleo let out a small cry of victory, having found a suspicious book. It was one she knew well, ‘History of the Empire’, and its pages were numbered. She took out ink and quill from her pouch and knelt, before setting herself to work on the floor. Hidden in the letter amidst the phrases were numbers. One number for a page, the next for a line, and the last was a word.

‘Secure…objective…before…twenty-ninth’ Cleo finished writing shakily, while Gilbet and the whore gasped from behind her.

“That’s in one day! We can’t evacuate the city in one friggin’ day! And the message doesn’t tell us much about the plan.” Mae grunted.

“Nothing surprising here, writing down the scheme would be a stupid risk, we will have to guess it then.” Cleo spoke, and the two shot her an incredulous look. She began pacing the room and putting her thoughts together. “I very much doubt the whole invasion would rest on the shoulders of mere household guards. I believe a small advance party of experienced soldiers should be incoming. Chaffaud’s part would only be to allow them inside the walls unnoticed.”

“So he’ll smuggle an armed force in the city. Or do you think they’re already inside?” Mae asked, looking worried.

“We can’t know for certain, but I would assume them to arrive as late as possible. Hiding soldiers here involves the risk of them being discovered too early, thus foiling the plan.” The young woman answered.

“Chaffaud has quite a few ships, oversea trade is his main source of income.” Gilbet said and Cleo nodded, she had read the ledgers about those.

“And there’s not much traffic through the city gates, most folks come here by boat. If the bastard wants to bring soldiers, the harbor is less suspicious.” Mae pointed.

“Then we can safely assume that one or more of his boats will arrive soon, together with a deadly cargo.” Cleo said, and bit her lip at the prospect.

“This night or tomorrow’s then, I don’t see him trying this during the day.” The prostitute spoke.

“This all makes for a lot of guessing.” Gilbet frowned.

“It’s all we got. If we’re wrong we can all laugh at our foolishness in a couple days. I’d like that actually.” His former lover said wistfully.

“Before we begin planning our course of action, there’s a more pressing concern.” Cleo interrupted. The other two frowned at her. “We don’t know where Chaffaud is at the moment, and the house is full of his retainers.”

“What are we to do if he comes back, he has more men than I, he has been hiring a lot recently. We have to hurry…” The Lord began to panic again.

“Are they more loyal to him or to the city?” The Lady asked.

“Loyal? Ah! There’s not enough loyal people in Gravelroy to fill a carriage. But he pays them allright.” Mae snorted.

“I would like to point out that we are in the presence of my former friend’s coffers.” Gilbet interrupted. Both women startled at his words, and he pointed at the larger crates in the back.

“These could hinder Chaffaud’s efforts and help us fund a resistance, but how are we to bring them outside unnoticed?” Cleo wondered, considering the heavy-looking boxes.

“And there is the matter of the Parkhat’s man.” The Lord pointed out, staring at the sleeping figure.

“I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it, Gilbet.” Mae said with a smug grin.

 

3.5 Battle plans

Ben was exhausted. He had been leading the thugs on a mad chase around town for an hour before they had given up. There had been a couple close calls, and his arms showed a few cuts as a result. He was now hiding at a street corner, in view of Gilbet’s domain and waiting anxiously for the girls to show up. Cleo had told him to wait for their return in the sewers, it was apparently her hideout. But Ben was too worried about the two women to obey, plus he didn’t fancy waiting in the dampness and filth. Some movement a the residence’s gate attracted his attention. He almost cried out in relief when he recognized Mae going down the street.

“Where’s the lass?” He asked as he came out of the shadows, seeing the whore alone. She startled at his sudden apparition.

“I knew you wouldn’t wait where we told you, stubborn bastard.” She answered. “We don’t have much time, Chaffaud could come out any minute now.” Ben opened his mouth to ask what the heck was going on, but she cut him off. “Shut up and listen to me, lad. We need you to take this.” She handed out a leather bag to him. “Get inside, make sure you’re seen, and escape.”

“Now, why woud…” He paused as he took the pouch, it made a familiar jiggling noise. “Coin?” He frowned.

“It’s only mere copper, but it will do the job. Now go, the diversion should start soon. Just make a big commotion, you’re usually good at that.” She headed back towards the house without giving him any time to protest. “Oh, try not to kill any of Gilbet’s men, we’re gonna need those.” She said over her shoulder.

Why was she going back inside, couldn’t the damn woman just stay in bed and heal? Ben sighed, the whole thing sounded like another crazy plan. He considered the walls surrounding the nobleman’s home, when some shouting relented in the night. He ran towards the stone enclave and began scaling it.

Ben landed in the courtyard to a familiar scene. Guards running around and screaming, flames illuminating the house in the dark. Mae’s orders were to make a big mess of things, but wasn’t this enough? He saw a lot more soldiers than he would have liked though, he cursed. He approached the big white house without caring for stealth, and headed for a window on ground level. Some servants were going out from the main entrance, confused and scared. Ben glimpsed the lord, followed by the two girls, escaping in the commotion with their hands full. They were carrying a lot of stuff, he frowned before the realization hit him: the bitches had framed him for their theft!

He grabbed his bag, it was heavy with coin, and used it to smash the window. Ben heaved himself inside, and took a look around him. Squinting his eyes in the dark, he could make out the shapes of shelves and books in the small room. Cleo was probably going to be pissed if those were lost in the flames, the lass loved books after all. But he had other concerns at the moment, so he headed for the door and opened it. It led to a large corridor, with a waxed wooden floor and tapestries lining the walls. What was wrong with rich folks, he thought, carpets were obviously made to be put on the ground. He heard frightened voices from further down the hallway, and headed towards them.

Ben was now staring at a big hall, there was a double door at the other end and some large stairs to his right. The place was crowded with servants and guards running frantically in all directions. One of the later startled at his intrusion in all the chaos, and the thief took a step in his direction, having found his first victim. Ben knocked him down with the coin pouch before the man could react, the soldier landed on the ground in a loud noise, attracting everyone’s attention. A dozen pair of surprised and confused eyes were staring at him now.

“Who are you?”

“He’s a thief, grab him!”

A few armed men had the presence of mind to stand in the way of the exit, so Ben decided to sprint upstairs. More angry screams came from behind him as he reached the second floor, where the smoke was thicker. He ran to the nearest door he found and kicked it open, revealing an empty bedroom. Ben felt lucky when he saw there was a window there, which he threw open before taking a peek outside. It was quite high up and the courtyard was busy with more people. Not the best exit point, Ben thought, but the sound of footsteps drawing close forced him to take a decision. He jumped through the opening and landed on the cobbles, rolling on the ground to soften the impact. The acrobatics might not have been such a good idea, for the move sent coins flying all around in the courtyard.

“YOU!” Came a familiar voice a dozen yards behind him. “Grab him! It’s the arsonist!” Chaffaud ordered his men.

Well that made for a good show, Mae would sure be happy. The thought didn’t do much to lift his spirits though, he was in a dire situation. He looked for the nearest way out, grabbed his bounty and ran as fast as he could, a dozen guards on his heels now.



****



Ben was tired and in a foul mood. The damn guards had not given up chasing him the whole night. It was the second time they had stolen from Chaffaud before burning his house after all. It was dawn when Ben arrived at the sewers, and a strange congregation of sleepy and ragged figures welcomed him together with a foul smell. They were crouching at the tunnel’s entrance and listening attentively to someone. But the biggest surprise was that someone’s identity. The cracked Lady was talking, standing in the middle of the beggars, like a general addressing her troops.

“Ben, kind of you to finally join us.” She said, having noticed his arrival. Not a word of thanks for spending the past evening running away from soldiers, he sighed.

“Where’s Mae?”

“Your friend is resting, she was exhausted after last night’s adventures.” She pointed somewhere behind the group and Ben went over to investigate. The whore had been laid down on an improvised straw bed, and some old woman was caring for her. He knelt beside them and rubbed Mae’s hair fondly.

“Stop patting me like that. I’m not a friggin' cat.” She scolded him, somewhat drowsily.

“Aye, aye. Back to sleep now.” He smiled.

He let out a sigh of relief, seeing the woman safe and sound, before he noticed a familiar figure. Brownie was lying unconscious close by, tied up and gagged. He seemed to have been through a bad night, his face was bloodied and bruised. The bastard was barely recognizable, if not for the signature coat.

“What’s he doin’ here?” He frowned, turning to Cleo.

“This man was found in Gilbet’s home in that state. We could not leave him to burn alive, and he might prove himself valuable.” She explained.

Ben wondered if the real reason was that she wanted to have her revenge against the long coat. The lady had an ominous look on her face, and she had used the exact same words Brownie had when ordering the thief to capture her.

“Could you hand over your bag to this gentleman here?” The Lady said, indicating a pox marked old man, he looked to be a hundred years old.

Ben frowned, despite losing some in last nitght’s chase, he was still holding enough coin to eat for weeks and he had damn well deserved those. Then, seeing the irritated look on the lady’s face, he complied reluctantly. He gave the pouch to the elder, and the man’s eyes widened when he discovered what was inside. He began distributing its contents to the rest of his pals.

“I am glad that you haven’t lost it, they wouldn’t accept silver nor gold.” Cleo spoke as she stepped away from them to join Ben.

“Makes sense, poor bastard woud get in trouble if folks knew they have silver.” He nodded, as they gleefully shared the copper coins.

He had rarely seen folks look so happy, he observed. The old man, their chief Ben assumed, thanked Cleo profusely. She seemed quite content as well, smiling proudly as she observed the scene. Ben thought it was an impressive change in her attitude, from half-crazed prisoner to beggar in chief, he smiled. He yawned and settled down next to Mae for a well-deserved rest, happy with the day’s work.

“Do you believe now is the time for sleep?” He heard Cleo’s voice behind him.

“Come on, I’ve been runnin’ around all night.” He grunted.

“There is so much work to be done, I don’t even know where to begin. Get up and follow me.”

Cleo and Ben went on walking towards the harbor, the girl filling him in on all that had happened the previous night. He felt proud of Mae’s ideas, and the lady’s scheming impressed him as well. On the other hand, he didn’t like what they were about to do, it sounded insane.

“Gravelroy’s port, granary of the city.” She mused out loud, staring at the bay. Ben followed her stare, thoughtful. He had never considered the place in such a way, it had always been the busiest and stinkiest part of the city to him. “Apart from providing a good landing point to the Empire, they must take it or a siege would prove itself costly. Fishermen and merchants could smuggle food forever, forcing the attackers to waste troops and ships for a blockade.”

“I guess yer right. But what can we do about it?” Ben frowned.

“It’s quite simple, really. There’s only one way in, and the stone dam makes it rather narrow. The port’s entrance has defenses on each side, and the main tower should be our point of focus.”

“Ya don’t need to tell me, I got eyes.” He said, looking at the fifty feet stone spire. “How many men we got though?”

“Well… Lord Gilbet is trying to hire mercenaries discreetly.” She said hesitantly.

“So jus’ his soldiers for now? He got what, maybe thirty or so?” He looked wide-eyed at the girl and she nodded, not looking very confident. “Damn, and they can barely hold a spear proper.” Ben sighed, the whole enterprise sounded crazier by the minute.

“We cannot risk alerting Chaffaud by going to the city council for help, nor can we recruit men openly. There is no telling who is on his side.” She explained.

“Were do ya think they will land?”

“The location should be over there.” She said pointing at a wooden pier further down the docks. “I have read Chaffaud’s ledgers, and among the emplacements he owns for his boats, it is the most likely. It is the closest from the port’s defenses and one of the docking spots remains currently empty, it has been so for a week according to our investigation.”

Ben considered the place, wondering how to mount up an ambush. Sailors, traders and fishmongers, were moving barrels and wooden boxes along the planks. Not much for cover, he concluded.

“There ain’t any walls around, but we can probably move some crates over there and hide behind for an ambush.” He said, poiting at his chosen locations.

“I’m opened to any suggestions really, but there’s somewhere else we need to go before we make any preparations.”

The two of them walked on to inspect the main tower, and found the door unlocked. They looked at each other in surprise, before Ben shrugged and opened it. The inside was empty, Ben frowned before going up a ladder, only to find the dusty floor void of soldiers as well.

“Shouldn’t there be at least a guard or two here?” Ben asked, as he looked at the arrow slits in the room. They covered most of the bay, he noted.

“I believe there should be more, even.” She agreed, glancing around her. “I would assume Chaffaud to have bribed the citywatch, asking them to leave the premises today.”

“Why not just put his own men here then?”

“It does sound simpler, indeed. Perhaps the Lord does not want to take the risk, asking his own men to stand watch here would look suspicious. There hasn’t been an attack on the city for a few centuries, after all”

“Right, and Mae said the guy was bein’ paranoid. Reckon a few watchmen forgetting their duties won’t raise any alarm.” Ben said before heading upstairs.

They reached the top of the tower and considered the scene in front of them. The place provided with a nice view of the harbor and its walls, bowmen standing here could do a lot of damage. The place was a good twenty feet above all the other turrets, holding it would negate most of the port’s defenses, Ben concluded.

“You have more experience in warfare than I do, could you improve these fortifications?” She said as they headed back downstairs.

“Aye, I would need to do some shoppin’ though.”

“We have retrieved some of Chaffaud’s coffers, so it should not be a problem. I must admit that I like the idea of using the Lord’s funds to oppose his own plans.” She smirked.

“Them turrets sure are important, but what if the bastard decide to just sail pas them full speed? We don’t got enough archers to worry them.” He pointed out.

“We would need a way to block the channel. We can’t stop them if they decide to commit all their forces. But if we can make it costly enough…We could force oncoming ships to spend a lot of time clearing their way. Time we could use to make them pay dearly for a forced entry.”

“That would work. Only other option is to pull their boats along the dam and climb up, hard to do when arrows are raining down on you.” Ben nodded approvingly.

“How deep do you think it is?” She asked once the left the tower, looking at the waters. Ben sighed, before starting to take his clothes off.

“What are you…”



****



Ben was standing inside a smith’s shop, workers and apprentices were working the hearths, sweating profusely in the overwhelming heat. The thief was making a show of drying himself off near a fire, it felt good. A wrinkled greybeard approached him and frowned at his attitude.

“I need a short sword. Knives, lots of them. One large but light shield, about 4 feet high.” He shouted at the blacksmith over the ambient noise of hammers banging against anvils. The old man’s face twisted in a scowl at the request.

He gave Ben a good look-over before snorting in disdain. Well, there was no blaming the guy, the thief was all kinds of dirty and wet, and he didn’t look wealthy to begin with. He made his purse jiggle with the sound of coin under the fellow’s noise. That made for an impressive change of attitude, Ben grinned, the guy was fussing all over him now.

“Do you know what kind of armor they wear? Full plate, iron armor or chainmail?” Ben whispered, turning behind him to Cleo.

“I am not sure about the details, but I would assume the enemy to send their better-equipped men for such an important mission.”

“Steel plate it is.” He winced. “Two heavy crossbows then, and a crank. Throw in a shortbow too, and as many bolts and arrows as ya can.” The shop’s answered the request with glee, and began foraging behind the counter for the requested goods.

“Are you really going to need all this? You could outfit a whole army using all your purchases.” Cleo commented after a while, looking at the impressive array of weapons.

“Do ya know where to buy an army? I reckon’ ya don’t.” Ben shot back. “Now, I wantlight chainmail, steel greaves and vambraces.” He addressed the smithy.

“Maybe a helmet while you’re at it?” The man offered, eyes glimmering with greed, as he showed a plated sallet.

“Aye, but not the stupid ones where you can’t see. I want one that has just a nose piece, and nape protection.” He said, pointing at one he liked more. “Half a dozen spears too, 6 foot ones.”

“Why so many?” The young woman rolled her eyes.

“Did ya come here jus’ to bother me? I can shop alone, thanks.”

“You know very well why, I couldn’t possibly let you leave with so much coin, when considering your profession.” She said dryly.

“Are we talking about trust again? Reckon yer not the best lass to speak of such thing.” He scowled. Behind them the smith made a show of cleaning his wares innocently.

“And I recall that you did not hesitate much to sell me out to a criminal later.” She spoke acidly. Ben wanted to point out that she had been the one to do it first, but gave up the idea, seeing the look on her face.

“Guess that makes us even.” He grunted.

“No it does not. But we don’t have the time to argue further, back to the task at hand.” She pointed at the bunch of spears.

“The damn thing breaks sometimes, or folks grab the shaft when you stick them. Dead folks sure grip hard.” He explained. “I think that’s it then.” He said considering the pile of deadly contraptions arrayed in front of him.

“Good, we have other matters to attend.”

“Wait, we need to buy oil, and see a stone mason, and a carpenter…”

“Do you plan on building your own fortress?” She sighed in frustration.

 

3.6 An army of two

The night was dark and the tension in the air almost thick enough for the touch, as Cleo considered ‘her’ troops. Most of the men standing in front of her were cutthroat attracted with the promise of coin, while the rest consisted of Gilbet’s household guards. Despite their dire need for men, the Lord had decided to send some to escort his family and servant to safety. It left them with twenty soldiers, if you could call them as such for their faces showed more fear than bravery. The pikemen's flashy livery stood out next to the hardened criminals, dressed in dark leathers and holding mere knives. This disparate band was about to face the Empire’s best, and seeing them, the Lady could not help but worry about their chances. The enemy’s numbers were unknown and they acted on orders from a renowned general. She still felt torn about opposing her sibling, but Cleo was done living in his shadow. She clenched the handle of her knife to summon her courage.

The rest of her sad army were the beggars, dispersed around the city in key locations, ready to relay word of Chaffaud’s movements. There was no sign of the Lord so far, and she worried about it. If he decided to come to the harbor at the wrong time, Cleo's forces would find themselves surrounded between his and the Empire’s. She shuddered at the thought. But perhaps she had been wrong all along and nothing would happen, this whole plot being just the ranting of her paranoid mind. A whistling sound came to her ears, snapping her out of her doubts. Ben arrived from the main tower, running in their direction with his hands full of weapons, confirming the signal. The thief had been alone in the spire for most of the evening, working on strentghening his defenses. He joined her on the wooden pier and let down his load.

“How many?” She asked anxiously as he caught his breath.

“Only saw the one boat. I’m no expert but I’d say fifty men at most.” Cleo let out a small sight of relief. She had hoped not to be outnumbered on top of being outmatched in terms of skill and gear.

“Then I will get the men ready and in position, and give the signal to my own ships.” Gilbet said, not looking very confident. Cleo glanced at Ben, surprised their most experienced soldier had not taken command.

“Don’t look at me, never ordered folks around. His guards listen to him, and the rest follows, seems good enough to me.” He shrugged.

“Could you get your work done on the tower?”

“Aye, should give them some trouble if we can’t hold here.” He nodded before holding out a crossbow to her. “Ever loaded one? I guess not, yer gonna have to learn fast then.”

“Surely there are other people, more qualified for this task…”

“Might need ya if all yer plannin’ turn to shit. Why d’ya think I got two of these?” She frowned, she did not really expect to take part in the bloodbath. “Don’t worry, I’ll shoot, ya just reload as fast as ya can.”

Ben took her behind some crates further down the docks, and showed the Lady how to work the crank. It helped taking her mind off the incoming doom. The contraption proved quite simple to use, only it was hard on her arms. After a few tries, he showed her how to position the bolts in the arbalests before telling her to stop. She lifted her eyes and saw the ominous shape of a boat drawing close in the darkness. She glanced around her to find her comrades in arms waiting in hiding, the silence was dreadful. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Calm down, lass.” Ben put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Jus’ do as I tell ya, and run away if things go south.” She nodded weakly.

“Do you think it will work?”

“Well, I don’t know shit about boats. Only that they’re made of wood, and wood burns.” He winked at her.

The silence grew heavier as the vessel approached, and she could discern it better now. It looked like a common merchant ship and wore Chaffaud’s colors. She clutched the handle of her knife to reassure herself. As soon as the ship’s flank touched the docks, a few man dressed as sailors appeared on its deck, ropes in hands. But before they could throw the anchors they startled, hearing some crashing noises. Various pots and clay jugs exploded on the deck, spraying it with thick and dark liquid. Some light on her side attracted her attention, Ben was lighting up a torch which he handed out to her. In one fluid motion, the thief took out his bow, lit up his arrow and shot. Her gaze following the projectile, she noticed a dozen more going in the same direction, before a ‘WOOSH’ sounded in the night. Cries of alarm spread on the boat, together with the fire, making for a ghastly scene.

“Ya were right, bastards wear damn plate.” Ben’s voice snapped her out of the shock, and she saw the shapes of soldiers hurrying to disembark. They looked heavy-armored indeed, and they ran through the flames as if those were of no concern.

“Hand me a crossbow will ya?” Ben took the weapon, turned back and fired. “Next, reload that one.” He exchanged the empty arbalest for a loaded one. Cleo applied the lessons she had taken minutes earlier, trying to ignore the shouts of pain and alarm around her.

The both of them repeated the process a few times, and she did not dare look at the destruction in which she was taking part.

“God with us, for the Emperor!” A voice rose above all the mayhem, welcomed by a deafening chorus of shouts. Cleo risked a glance in their direction and froze. Armor, shields and swords shone in the burning ship’s light, a vision far more impressive than what awaited on the docks. A disparate band of ragtag, scared and inexperienced men. Her chest tightened, despite the surprise and the flames, her plan was doomed.

“One gold coin for each of these bastards’ head!” A familiar female husky voice answered the cries. All eyes turned to the whore, standing beside Gilbet. “The Lord is paying.” She pointed at him with a grin.

“Men, to me! Defend your city, your homes, and your families!” He shouted, raising his sword above his head.

The answer from his soldiers might not sound as impressive as their counterpart, but it somehow lifted the criminals’ spirits. They managed to group up to met the Empire’s charge. More than three dozen Templars in plated steel were running down the pier and towards them.

“Take this, shoot at anythin’ wearin’ white.” Ben handed her his crossbow. “Just point and pull the trigger, as long as it is a good dozen paces away from me.” He added seeing the uncomfortable expression on her face.

She stared at the weapon before a loud metallic noise drew her attention back to the battle. Screams of anger and pain soon followed, and she saw Ben running towards the melee, spear in hand. The lady forced herself to act and reload her crossbow. Once done, she lifted it up and began sighting, the heavy contraption shaking in her hands. How was she to hit a target in this mayhem? Her side was losing ground rapidly, and her fear was growing by the second. She had to do something, Cleo cursed and closed her eyes, before letting loose. When she opened them warily, but could not find any sign of success in the chaos in front of her. She could see Ben, dancing in and out the melee, falling an opponent before moving out of harm’s way and search for a new foe. He seemed methodical and calm, using his allies as shields mercilessly while he dealt death with his lance.

Cleo took her attention away from the ghastly scene to concentrate on her task. She shot a second bolt, it went over her target by a good five feet. Bodies were now lying on the ground everywhere, while the wounded tried crawling over them to reach safety. She inserted one more projectile and took aim, trying to steady her arms before firing this time. She almost cried out in satisfaction as the arrow hit, only to curse when she realized it was stuck in one of the knights’ shield. The next one would work, she told herself, and she set out to repeat the process.

But then a hand landing on her shoulder made her jump away in fright. She reflexively raised her weapon and stopped, recognizing the beggar.

“Oy, don’t shoot mi. I’m just bringing word to you.” He raised both hands in fright.

“Sorry…I…” She relaxed and pointed the crossbow away.

“Chaffaud and his men are on the move, towards the north.” He told her. “Though I guess you’re busy enough here.” He added as he watched the battle over her shoulder.

Cleo felt her knees grow weak. The city’s defenders were barely holding against their current foe, a second one would mean certain failure and death.

“BEN!” She yelled atop her lungs, and before she knew it, the thief was back at her side. He was a ghastly sight, covered in blood, guts and sweat.

“Chaffaud is heading to the north gate.” She told him.

“Damn it was supposed to be the southern one.” He grunted. She had asked Gilbet to post some of his remaining troops there, it was the closest entrance for a coastal landing.

“How could I not have seen it? Securing the gates would only be useful if the harbor operation failed, meaning the plan was discovered. Of course it had to be the least suspicious gate.” She scolded herself.

”Clever bastard, yer brother.” Ben grunted.

“Send word to the men, they have to relocate swiftly.” She told the elder who left in hurry. Or at least as fast as his lame leg allowed, Cleo observed bitterly.

“Won’t be enough, ‘tis too far. They’d have to cross the whole city.” Ben remarked.

“I am aware of that fact, but what else can we do? We are already losing ground here, we have to retreat to the tower.” She cried out in despair.

She had had so little time to mount up a defense, and so little resources. And it would all be for naught if seemed, she bit her lip in frustration.

“Mae!” Ben shouted and got the whore’s attention, she ran out of hiding and towards him. “Buy us five minutes and take everyone to the north gate, fast.” She gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Stay behind this.” He added, giving her his tall shield. The woman took it and headed to the councilman to relay the instructions.

“Us?” Cleo asked.

“I ain’t staying alone with one of them mercenaries. I don’t trust them with my back. Punched a few of Gilbet’s guards too.” He explained sheepishly.

Cleo frowned, but before she could object Ben took both crossbows and signaled her to grab the rest of his gear. Then he began running towards the huge tower at the end of the pier, and Cleo’s eyes widened in understanding. She went in pursuit of the thief, struggling to keep up with his pace, in hope of stopping his mad plan. Ben stopped when reaching the tower’s base, and grabbed a rope ladder to begin his ascent.

“There is a door…” Cleo spoke under him, exhausted with the chase. “…in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Can’t use it.” He told her.

“Why? Wait…” It was far from the most pressing concern. “Are you planning to… defend this place… alone with me?” She wanted to shout at the half-wit, but she lacked the strength.

“Just climb dammit, bastards are comin’.” He said over his shoulder and resumed his ascent.

Cleo glanced behind her and cursed. The defenders were falling back, and a dozen of the Templars were already heading her way. She threw the quivers over her shoulders, and went up after Ben. The climb proved difficult, her frail arms and the exhaustion didn’t help. She heard shouts of alarm somewhere below, making her anxiety grow, but she did not dare to look. Then she let out a gasp of surprise as the rope began pulling her up on its own. Ben was giving her a hand and she soon reached the top, he took hold of her and she went over the parapet. Something flew over her head, an arrow, she realized in fright.

Cleo did not get time to gather her wits though, a clicking sound relented and an empty crossbow appeared in front of her. She took out the lever and set herself to work, while Ben fired a shot beside her. A sharp cry of pain answered from below. The two exchanged weapons a few more times, before a crashing sound came to her ears. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

“How long do you think the door will hold?” She asked, growing scared.

“Dunno.” He cursed. “Hand me that thing over there, they’re startin’ a shield wall.”

Cleo glanced around her, and discovered an impressive array of weapons and amphorae on the tower’s roof. Ben had lit up a torch by the time she brought him a clay pot. She watched him stuff it with a cloth, which he set on fire before throwing it over the wall. A cracking sound ensued, quickly followed by screams of pain. Ben did not waste time to watch the result, he was already back at work with a crossbow.

“This is how battles shoud be.” He grinned. “Me standin’ atop a tower and the bastards fifty feet down cursing at me.”

She wanted to agree, but the loud knocks on the door reminded her that their advantageous position would not last. Cleo went back to reloading the arbalest, it was getting harder each time, her arms were already weak from the previous climb. Every time she inserted a bolt into the dreading contraptions, the Lady tried not to think about the death it was dealing. The death of her fellow countrymen, she observed bitterly. As if the angry shouts and cries for help from downstairs were not upsetting enough. A crashing sound and some cheers made a chill run down her spine. The attackers had broken in, and she glanced at Ben in anguish. The idiot winked at her, before letting another bolt loose. Did he not understand their predicament? She wanted to strangle him.

“Grab your knife and get ready for some cuttin’.” He told her. Cleo was biting her nails now, and looking around for a way to escape. But the only exit she saw was a wooden panel leading downstairs, were armored men were probably swarming now.

“I’m not sure I…” She paused, hearing some angry voices, the attackers were cursing and arguing among themselves.

“Clever ain’t it? Bastards show up and start ramming the door while we shoot at them. But when they finally open it, surprise! ” Ben grinned and Cleo looked at him in confusion. “I walled-off the door. Bet they’re pretty pissed now.” He smiled at her proudly, and pointed at one of the clay containers.

“I am amazed, I would never have thought you capable of such ingenuity.” She let out a sigh of relief before handing an amphora to him. The lid was greasy, she noted, probably a mix of oil and animal fat.

“Ya see, I’ve been in their situation during a few battles.” He lit up the jar before letting it down on the attackers and smiled at the result. “Pissing my pants with other fellows and praying for arrows and rocks to miss as we rammed a door. Then I thought, what if we open it and there’s a wall behind? We’d be pretty screwed then.” He laughed.

“So the only option left to them would be to scale the walls.” She nodded. The Lady had thought the man to be an idiot, but his trick was currently holding at bay thirty of the mightiest living warriors. The relief she felt after the previous tension made her want to embrace him. She took some time to glance at the harbor, and saw the shapes of Gilbet’s ships heading to the entrance. The plan was for their captains to sink them there, blocking the way into the port. The Lady felt as if her scheme could perhaps work after all, and she smiled.

“No time to celebrate, I told ya to get ready. Look out for grapples.” Ben’s voice snapped her out of her considerations. He held out his torch to her. “Jus’ don’t step too close to the edge with it, they’ll see ya and they have a few crossbows.”

Cleo took it and glanced around her, but found nothing. She began walking along the battlement, before a metallic *cling* drew her attention. She hastened towards it and found a steel hook gripping the stone, it was attached to a rope. She heard a few more being launched and taking hold of the rempart. She grabbed one and drew her knife.

“Hold on, will ya.” Ben spoke and she turned back to glare at him, there was a trained killer at the other end of the cord and she did not feel like to wait.

“Give ‘em asshole time to climb a bit, it won’t do much yet. Jus’ a strained ankle, maybe.” He stepped towards a second grapple and drew his sword. “A thirty feet fall in heavy armor is another story.” He said with a grin.

She waited for Ben’s signal then, trying to calm herself down. A minute went by, and it felt like an hour. A few other hooks took hold on the tower’s edge, adding to her stress. Then Ben nodded to her and lifted his sword, and both slashed at the same time. A few cries of surprise rose from bellow, followed by a deafening metallic sound. The thief hurried on to the next rope and she imitated him. Cries of alarm and curses pierced the night as they repeated the process a few times. When there was nothing left to cut, Cleo sat down, feeling exhausted.

“No time to rest, lass. Reload them crossbows.” Ben said as he heaved another jar of oil over the parapet.

“Should they not be retreating? It appears their assault has failed.” She frowned as she set to work with the crank.

“Where would they go? We burned their boat. I think they have orders to take this tower, or die tryin’.” He shot at the attackers, then a sharp banging noise relented. “Damn, bastards got a huge hammer now.” He said after bending over the edge to take a peek.

“But… Can they really break down a stone wall?” She asked, worried.

“Pretty sure they can, seeing the size of their thing.” He said without looking at her. “Didn’t get much time to block the entrance, and the mortar is probably not dry yet.” He handed his empty weapon to her.

With a renewed sense of urgency, the young woman went back to work her lever. Ben kept shooting, pausing sometimes to rain fire down the attackers.

“Run, there’s only one or two up the top, we’ll take them!” A voice shouted from bellow.

“What the heck?” Ben exclaimed and, she shot him a nervous glance. “They split up, there’s still a good number down there, but the rest is running towards the docks.”

“Perhaps they are giving up and escaping?” Cleo offered, hopeful. Surely there had to be a limit of how much fire and arrows one could take.

“Don’t look like folks giving up to me.” He grunted.

“Oh god. They are heading the the gate.” Cleo realized in anguish.

“Goddamit, Mae’s there with the others. Bloody Templars are gonna attack them from behind, and I don’t give Gilbet’s men much chances against them.” He punched the crenelation with anger.

“I think we have more pressing concerns ourselves.” Cleo pointed out, hearing the hammer smash against the stone down bellow.

Ben did not listen to her objection, he sheathed his sword an began stripping off his armor. She gasped.

“Is it hopeless then? Please do not tell me that we’re escaping by diving, the waters are sixty feet down!” She cried out. He kept going, now taking off his greaves.

“Tis not over. I’m going to help them, while you deal with the assholes under us.” He spoke in a hard voice. His calm in the face of their situation infuriated her.

“You must be jesting! Am I to fend off some of the best soldiers the Empire has to offer on my own?” She shouted.

“Listen to me, lass.” He said once finished, wearing only his breeches and sword. “Ya wait for a big, big noise, and you throw a couple of these down the hatch.” He told her, pointing at the clay containers.

“Do you really think some oil will suffice? It had not stopped them so far.” She protested.

“Don’t worry, I left another surprise for the bastards. Now, I will be back as soon as I can a’right?”

“This is insane!” She screamed.

“Trust me. Just be sure to use the fire at the right time. Keep workin’ the crossbows until then.” He told her as he headed toward the tower’s edge.

“How do I know…”

“Wait for the noise, it should work. Worst case, do this.”

Before she could further plead for him to stay, Ben jumped down the harbor. A loud splash of water covered Cleo’s voice as she cursed him.

 

3.7 Hero bumpin

Ben emerged from the waters and took hold of a ladder, before climbing it up to a wooden pier. The fall and the following swim in cold waters had taken a toll on him, so he took a moment to get his bearings and catch his breath. He then headed back to the docks, where the ambush had taken place. A few curious folks were coming out of surrounding buildings and inspecting the scene with him. He sighed with relief when he found his bow in all the mayhem of bodies and discarded weapons. He also grabbed a quiver and strapped the lot on his back, then began jogging north. He wanted to reach the gate before the Templars did, but he fought the desire to speed his pace up, he would need his strength soon. Running was usually the best thing to do against knights, only in the opposite direction. He cursed as he considered the task ahead of him.

He left the docks and their lights and entered the merchant streets, which were eerie calm and dark at this hour. The *flick-flock* of his wet boots on the cobbles was the only disturbance to be heard, it made him feel dangerously noticeable. Other than having to face the Templars alone, he also worried about Mae’s fate. He didn’t trust Gilbet and his retainers to protect her. The rest of their troops were hired thugs and mercenaries, and those were even less reliable. And there was also the matter of leaving Cleo alone on the tower, it made him anxious. But his plan should work, he tried to reassure himself. She was probably going to be pissed at him afterward, but that’ll teach her to betray him.

The characteristic sound of armor clicking drew his attention back to his surroundings, his quarry was not very far ahead. Folks in heavy armor luckily ran slow on long distances. The problem with knights came when you had to fight them. They were jogging a good three dozen yards away and Ben kept the distance even, waiting for them to turn on a wider street. As soon as the Templars did, he sprinted towards the corner and knocked an arrow. He paused, took aim and held his breath. As soon as the projectile flew out, he pulled another from his quiver and shot, he had to make every chance count. Ben didn’t lose time to confirm the hits, he ran back the way he came and into a parallel street. He heard a few shouts of alarm, confusion and… pain, meaning the arrow had hit home. That’ll mess up the bastards good, he thought, and he sprinted as fast as he could.

He went quickly through a side alley and peeked into the main street. Half a dozen knights were standing clumped up together. Ben felt glad noticing one of them was on the ground and moaning, an arrow showing in the back of his leg. They seemed a bit confused, not knowing where the archer was, but their reaction irritated the thief. The bastards were good, many other folks would be running around and screaming in confusion in that situation. But these had quickly gathered in formation behind shields. Ben aimed his bow anyway, and let loose before going out of sight and escaping once more.

He didn’t have much hope of killing the Emperor’s men with a bow, they wore steel plate after all. But a few good wounds would slow them down at least. He ran full speed and further north, his eyes scanning his surroundings for a spot to climb. He lifted himself up a fence and to a roof, then quietly drew close to the edge of it. He squinted his eyes in the dark, looking for his enemies. After a little while, the sound of footsteps and whispers got to his ears before he could see his enemy. He cursed when he could finally make out their shapes, the assholes were in a tight group, hugging the wall and using their bucklers to cover their flank and front. They numbered five now, having abandoned their wounded comrade.

Ben waited patiently for them to pass right in front of him, only ten paces away, and aimed for a gap in the shield wall. At this distance, even a shortbow could pierce a sixth of an inch of steel, and missing was even less likely. Ben’s arrow stuck home, lodging itself in the helm of his target. The four remaining Templars reacted instantly and began running ahead, holding out their protection overhead. Ben fired a few more times and downed another man, whereas the other shots bounced off on armor. They were escaping, much to Ben’s disappointment, he had hoped for the soldiers to go after him. Shooting them as they’d try climbing would have been the end of it, he grunted. When they got too far for him to see, he climbed back down the street, and ran in pursuit.

He was getting alarmingly close to the northern gate now, so he decided to up his pace to help Mae. A faint, ruffling noise attracted his attention to his left. A sword appeared, slicing through the air and towards his head. Ben’s reflexes took over, he bent his body as low as he could and slid on the ground. The blade passed a few inches from his face as he fell down, but it was no time to feel relieved. The three remaining knights had decided to wait in a side alley and ambush him, they were quickly moving in to surround the thief. Ben cursed as he scrambled to his feet, and rolled on the cobbles to avoid another blow from the first attacker. From his low position, he kicked the man’s ankle and winced as his feet connected with the steel greave. The knight fell to the ground in a loud crash and Ben didn’t leave time for the other two to draw any closer, he ran like hell in the opposite direction.

There were only a couple hundred paces left before he would reach the north gate now, he had to do something. Ben didn’t fancy bringing more trouble towards Mae. AS he kept running, he glanced quickly behind him to confirm he had put some distance between him and his enemies, and knocked an arrow. He swiftly stopped, turned back to face them, and let loose. The man leading the charge was too surprised by the sudden move to raise his shield, and the projectile pierced his throat. The second pursuer stopped short and lifted up his buckler before Ben could fire another once. The young man kept his bow up threateningly and stepped back as his target resumed his advance, only cautiously this time. Ben hesitated, he might not get time for another try if he missed this shot. The thief noticed the Templar he had knocked down was catching up on them, and switched his aim in an instant.

The first armored man froze as the arrow flew by him, apparently surprised it missed. But soon behind him, his companion cried out in pain and the man glanced back. Ben used that moment to pull another shaft from his quiver as fast as he could, and fired without losing time to aim. There was not much need for it, he was ten paces away from a still target, and the missile lodged itself into the soldier’s shoulder. He screamed from the pain, but still held out his shield to protect chest and helm. Ben shot at the guy’s foot and got another yell of pain as a reward, before turning his attention to the last knight. He was lying on the ground, holding his thigh and moaning from the pain. Ben drew his sword, dispatched the two wounded men and headed north in a hurry.

The scene awaiting him at the gate was ghastly. Mercenaries and members of Gilbet’s household were lying on the ground, dead or badly wounded. Ben let out a sigh of relief when he found Mae hiding behind a house, together with the lord and the remaining survivors. They jumped in fright when they noticed him.

“Ben, what are you doing here? I thought you were defending the tower!” The whore frowned.

“I saw some Templars heading north so I followed them, left Cleo to handle things there.” Ben explained.

“Are you saying the Emperor’s soldiers are coming? God, we’re in a dire situation here already.” The councilman exclaimed, and the men around him took the new grimly. Ben noticed the man was wearing good armor, and his face showed a few cuts. Perhaps he was a better fighter than he looked, the thief mused.

“They ain’t coming no more. Took care of them.”

“What about the harbor? You left the little ghost alone there? Holy tit Ben, there were thirty or more knights!” Mae shouted.

“She should be fine, I think. Probably.” He shrugged to hide his concern. “Now’s not the time to scream at me anyway, what’s going on here?”

“Gilbet! Lay down your weapons, you’ve lost.” Came a voice from the gate’s direction, right on cue.

Ben peeked at the corner and saw Chaffaud, together with his men, standing atop the city wall thirty paces away. The big, wooden doors under them were wide open, he grunted at the sight.

“They managed to slip by us during the first battle and take the walls. We tried to assault them twice since, but suffered heavy losses I’m afraid.” Gilbet said.

“Bastards got bows and we only had one shield.” One of the councilman’s retainers pointed. Ben glanced at the corpses further down the street, seeing the tall shield he had given Mae out there in the open. He scowled at her.

“What? I wasn’t fighting, figured one of our guys could use it.” She shrugged.

“I must admit my surprise Gilbet, it seems you have found yourself a spine. After all these years, who would have thought.” Chaffaud mocked him from his perch.

“I cannot believe you would sell the city to the Empire. To think I once called you my friend.” The lord shouted back.

The two councilmen kept yelling at each other, but Ben didn’t listen, he was assessing the situation. Chaffaud and six bowmen stood atop some stairs on the remparts, with as many pikemen to protect them. Another four soldiers were manning the entrance on ground level. The only good point was that the walls were not made to repel an attack from the inside, so they could not hide behind crenelations. Ben glanced at his companions and it didn’t do much to lift his spirits. Most were dead or wounded, leaving maybe ten spears in fighting shape. And he was standing here only on his breeches, having taken off his armor earlier. Things looked bad for their side, he cursed.

“Where's the damn citywatch when we need them?”

“Nowhere to be seen, we sent word out but got no answer. The asshole probably paid them to look the other way.” Mae spoke angrily.

“At least we can be thankful they are not openly siding with Chaffaud.” Gilbet pointed mirthlessly.

“A’right, got a plan. First I need my shield, pass me that lad over there.” Ben said, pointing at a form lying on the ground next to them, covered in blood. Nobody complied, they all looked at the thief in confusion.

“Damn, gotta do everythin’ myself.” Ben handed his bow to Mae and stole the dead man’s helmet, before positioning him on his back.

“What are you doing with Anthony’s remains?” Gilbet cried out.

Ben didn’t listen to the complaining, he took out a deep breath and sprinted out of hiding. As soon as he left his cover, he heard a shout and then arrows flew at him. Ben twisted his body to put the corpse he was carrying between him and his death. A couple of the projectiles missed, while the rest lodged in poor Anthony. Ben let the man drop and dashed forward before his attackers could reload. He jumped towards his shield, grabbed it and knelt behind it. A few loud thumps followed soon after, as a handful of shafts stuck his protection. Ben sighed with relief and hurried back toward safety, where his companions waited.

“A’right. Now can you guys throw spears?” A few weak nods answered him. “Aim for the bowmen then, and move fast, I’m not dodging arrows all night.”

“And how are we going to fight afterward, without weapons?”

“Grab some from the dead.” Ben shrugged, and took his bow and quiver.

He strapped his shield tight on his back and advanced to the side of the house. A quick peek revealed his six targets, standing atop the wall with projectiles pre-emptively knocked.

“Can ya throw a dead guy out there?”

The men seemed reluctant to obey until Mae scolded them into it. A couple thugs heaved a corpse and launched it on the street, it landed on the ground together with arrows. Six of them, Ben noted gladly, and he took the opportunity to shot one of his own. A scream of pain from the rempart relented in the night, and Ben advanced straight towards the gate. He kept a slow, steady pace and eyes on his targets, trying to stay calm as he pulled out another shaft. He waited until the last moment and pivoted swiftly, kneeling down and exposing his back to his enemies. As soon as he heard projectiles hitting his shield there, he twirled and let loose. Four bowmen left, he thought as he resumed his march and reached in his quiver.

“Now!”

He shouted as he whirled and crouched once more, as another volley flew in his direction. He saw his companions rushing out of hiding, and he turned back to the remparts to sigh another quarry. Ben froze for an instant, when he realized there was a bowman staring right at him, the bastard had not fired and waited for Ben to expose himself. Dodging an arrow from twenty paces only happened in songs, and Ben was too late to shot the man down. He stared, powerless, as the incoming projectile flew right at him. He felt a sharp pain and the impact stunned him for a second, before he realized he was alive. The shaft had bounced off his helmet, he thanked god and shot back at the bastard.

The arrow hit home at the same time as the volley from Ben's allies did. A lance stuck one of the bowmen right in the chest, and his comrades jumped down in fright, as other spears hit the stones around them. Ben used the distraction to keep firing, not needing to use his shield this time, and fell the remaining archers before they could get back to their feet. He heard Chaffaud ordering his men to charge, while he hid scared behind them. Both sides soon crashed into each other, yelling atop their lungs and weapons in hands. Ben gave up his bow and drew his sword, before heading towards the melee.

 

3.8 Legends meet.

Some time earlier, Cleo was standing on top of the harbor’s tower and staring at the bay. The scoundrel had dived down there, leaving her alone to face trained killers. She was considering jumping after him to escape her current predicament, but her previous experience in these waters did not encourage her to do so. She glanced at the crossbow lying on the ground next to her and bit her lip. Her arms were incredibly tired now, and she had to use her whole weight on the crank to arm the string. She inserted a bolt and stepped shakily towards the crenelation. She could hear cheering between the hammer strikes, her fear growing each once. The Lady peeked over the stone, and searched for a target amidst the score of shields and armors she saw. A sudden move startled her, before she felt something fly by her ear, her own death missing her by mere inches.

She knelt back behind the parapet, and breathed heavily for a minute. She had to act, staying idle would only mean her death, so she steeled herself and stood back up. The young woman heaved the arbalest and took aim, before squeezing the trigger. She did not dare to look at the result and took cover right after, as a couple of arrows went over her head in answer to her own. God, this was an ordeal, she swallowed hard and set back to work with her lever. A few more exchanges of projectiles later, she heard a loud chorus of shouts, making a cold shiver run down her spine. She glanced carefully at the base of the building, only to find it void of soldiers. The small wall Ben had built had fallen, and soon the knights would reach her floor. She hurried to reload both crossbows, glancing at the harbor all the while, wondering if she would survive the fall.

A sharp banging noise startled her, and she turned to face the trapdoor, weapon at the ready. The fear was overwhelming now, she had only two bolts armed while there were at least a dozen men down there. She stepped back slowly towards the edge of the tower, she would rather take her chance diving than fighting them. She did not expect them to treat her kindly, they were probably furious about all the arrows and the burning oil.

“Hurry up lads, bring the ram!” She heard one of the attackers shout from under the panel, announcing the last moments of her stand.

A deafening noise came from beneath her feet, a chaos of wood cracking and breaking, screams and a loud crash. Cleo felt like the whole spire was shaken, and stepped on the crenelation, ready to jump. She stared at the dark waters below and hesitated, but then nothing happened. It seemed no one was trying to break up the wooden trap anymore. Only distant moans of pain disturbed the eerie silence. The Lady remembered Ben’s words and walked cautiously back towards the trapdoor. She gripped her crossbow with her right hand, and took off the iron bar blocking the panel with the left one. The young woman swallowed hard and lifted up the planks slowly, before gasping at the scene she discovered.

There was no other floor under the one she stood upon, she could see to the very bottom of the tower. Down there, lit by a few discarded torches, laid an impressive pile of broken beams and planks. Two whole floors had collapsed, she realized in shock, and the Templars were buried among the remains. Ben’s trap had worked, she concluded, that scoundrel could be reliable after all. She would gladly kiss him, where he here, for the relief she felt was immense. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted, and let herself rest from her ordeal. Surely she had done her part, the city’s defense was on other people’s hand now. Her gaze fell on the remaining oil-filled amphorae and she recalled the thief’s instructions.



****



Up above Gravelroy’s harbor, on its highest tower, Cleo was gazing at the bay. She was sitting on the rempart’s edge, watching the sun come up. The scene did not help her mood, she was feeling mortified. Throwing fire on her fellow countrymen had been hard on her, but not as much as listening to their screams as they had burned alive. It had proved completely different from the previous times, when the oil had only startled them, their armor and shields absorbing most of the heat. This time there had been wood to fuel the flames, and the result ghastly. She could still smell the stench of burnt bodies, she had not known it would be so foul, and prayed for the wind to make it go away.

It was all to defend the city from plunder, she tried to console herself. She hoped her allies had successfully defended the gates, or it would mean she had killed again, only this time for naught. She glanced at the rope ladder she had used to scale the spire. Ben’s plan might have worked, but it had cut off the main escape route. She was feeling too tired to consider the climb down, or to do anything really. A man’s voice shouting snapped her out of her thoughts, and she glanced at the stone pier below. Ben was walking there in his breeches and covered in blood, he was waving at her. She stared at the rope ladder for a while, gathering her strength for a new ordeal.

After a long and painful descent, she reached the base of the spire where the thief was awaiting her.

“What is the situation at the north gate?” She asked anxiously.

“We had trouble but we won.” He looked incredibly tired despite his smile, and his arms and torso showed fresh cuts and bruises. “Though that asshole of Chaffaud escaped.”

“Is the enemy going to storm the gates?”

“Dunno, but the whole mess made all kinds of noise. Word of the Emperor’s soldiers dead on the streets got to the lords, I heard. Them citywatch showed up right after the fight, acting like they won the day.” He spat.

“So we can expect help from the city council at last?” She asked, hopeful.

“Aye, Mae and Gilbet are taking care of things over there.”

Cleo let out a sigh of relief, it felt like a load of her shoulders, matters were now in more experienced hands. She sat down on the pier’s stones and relaxed, Ben soon imitated her. The two of them stayed silent for a while, resting from the previous night and staring blankly at the bay. Gloom fell once more on the Lady, for what she had done to the Templars.

“Ya don’t look much happy.” Ben said after a while, seeing the look on her face. “I mean we won right?”

“How many men did I…” She said, feeling awful.

“They’re soldiers, lass.” He shrugged. “At least they’re paid to die.” He added with a small grin, but it didn’t help. “I’m glad yer alive anyway.”

“Not thanks to you. You left me alone up there! Did you even consider the whole building could be burning from your mad plan?” She shot back angrily.

“Why woud it burn? It’s made of stone.” He frowned.

“The smoke could have reached the upper floor and… Never mind.” She sighed. “The building might still be standing, but how are we going to use it to defend the harbor now?”

“Well, they don’t know it’s empty inside so…”

“That might not stop them from considering an assault of the harbor.”

“Guess we’ll have to put some ladders in there. I hoped walling off the entrance woud be enough, if we had more men to defend it. I sawed the wooden beams jus’ in case, was better than giving the tower to them, right?”

The sounds of bells relenting through the city made the two stop their arguing. They looked at each other in fright, before glancing at the bay. The sight awaiting there made Cleo’s blood freeze in her veins, the Empire’s fleet had appeared at the horizon.

“God, how are we to face this?” The young woman whispered, between awe and dread.

“Reckon running away woud work.”

“I believe negotiating would be a better option. Luckily your exploits from last night gave us a better position.” Came a male voice behind them.

Cleo turned to face the speaker and gasped. The man with the brown coat, the one she had recalled from her wedding was walking towards her. He looked tired and wounded, and was accompanied by Lord Gilbet and the whore. A group of scary looking thugs followed behind, she noted anxiously.

“What’s he doin’ here?” Ben frowned.

“Calm down lad, he’s with us.” Mae spoke.

“How can you trust him, he’s connected to Chaffaud!” The Lady exclaimed, recovering from the shock.

“I must offer you my thanks for rescuing me from the councilman. It seems we had the same idea you and I, going there to decipher his message. Though I underestimated Chaffaud’s paranoia.” The man spoke.

Cleo still had doubts, and she glanced at Ben for support.

“Mae says he’s a’right, so it's good enough for me.” He shrugged.

“We don’t have a better option anyway.” The woman in question remarked.

“What do you propose we do to stop this then? Will the Empire even agree to a parlay?” Cleo asked, pointing at the incoming fleet.

“Well, their surprise attack has been repelled, and they can see the harbor is blocked.” He nodded approvingly. “Considering the resources at your disposal, I would say it is a miracle. You three never cease to amaze me really, you should consider working for my employer.” She could hear a smirk in his voice. “Now we will make a show of force, manning the defenses with as many people as we can muster. It doesn’t really matter if they are soldiers, as long as they look the part. Lastly, there is a way to ensure your brother will open negotiations.” The man stared at Cleo, and she froze in realization.

“You mean to use me as a hostage.” She said dryly. She glanced around her for an escape, but it was hopeless. There was only the empty tower behind her, leaving only the bay as an option. She was too exhausted for another desperate swim in Graverlroy’s waters.

“Now, I don’t like this.” Ben took a swift step in the coat’s direction, surprising everyone. He glared at the man threateningly, and the cutthroats behind put their hands on their weapons in response.

“Ben, it’s the only way.” Mae said, holding out her hand to appease him.

“Damn.” He grunted, but did not step back. “If she is going then I’m coming along.” He said firmly.

“I don’t think it would be such a good idea, you have a reputation of recklessness. As useful an individual you might be, in the right circumstances, your character is rather unsuited for peaceful talk. I would advise you to step back, or my associates will intervene.” He pointed at his henchmen, whose numbers made Cleo doubt the thief’s chances.

“Ya think they can before I gut ya? I ain’t so sure.” Ben growled, his hand on the handle of his sword. He made for an impressive sight, covered in blood and scars. His body was lean but you could see muscles show everywhere as he tensed.

The young woman felt her back thick with sweat, watching the confrontation. Brown coat as they called him, was looking coldly at the thief, while the cutthroats advanced cautiously toward the two.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ben.” The whore protested. “It’s the only way to avoid the city burning. Why are you defending her anyway, the bitch betrayed you.”

“Aye she did, but she made up for it. See that tower?” He pointed a the spire behind “Them Empire bastards would be standing on top of it without her. Reckon’ she did her part.”

Cleo thought Ben was surely mistaken, his trap was the reason of the Templars’ defeat. She had not done much but reload crossbows or fire harmless shots, trembling with fear all the while. And she finished the job, setting the lot on fire and killing perhaps a dozen men. But the attack had failed at that point, had it not? She did not deem voicing the thought as an appropriate thing to do though. The man with chestnut hair signaled his troops to hold back, and sighed.

“Fine, I must admit she did unveil Chaffaud’s plot, and we don’t have the time for more squabble. But she will be coming to the negotiations. You can come as an escort, though bear in mind what will happen to your friend here, should you cause more trouble.” He finally said, pointing at the whore.



****



Cleo walked down a small creek together with Ben, following the brown coat on the sand with growing anxiety. She had dreamed of her reunion with Brother many times, but not once had she imagined to do so as a hostage. The bonds tying her hands and the cloth covering her mouth were upsetting her, but not so much as picturing her sibling’s reaction. Did he know the part she had played in the city’s defense? She tried to shake the worry away, she had survived much worse situations, breaking down now would be disgraceful. She brought her attention back to her surroundings.

Despite agreeing to a parlay, the Empire was landing forces a few miles away from the city gates, already working on setting up camp. Soldiers wearing the Holy white livery were landing on the beach from various small boats. They joined others in digging trenches and building tents. They appeared to be posturing for a siege, but perhaps it was only a threatening gesture before the negotiations. She noticed a small group of people advancing their way further down the sand, under a flag of truce. Once again conflicting emotions rose inside of her, she yearned to see her brother but feared the outcome of the confrontation. There was a terrible question in the back of her mind, a heavy and painful doubt. It had been there since her argument with Ben, and only the dreadful events of last night had managed to push it away.

In an attempt to avoid it, Cleo considered the hooded man walking a few paces ahead, wondering if he could hold his ground against the famed general. He must feel confident, for he had only brought Ben as an escort. Or was it his way of showing off, meeting an army with barely any guards? The thief was an eerie sight, still shirtless and wearing only leather breeches and a sword. His torso was covered with dried blood, but she could see an impressive array of lean muscles and wounds under it.

“What d’ya want to do? Go back home with yer brother?” He said, meeting her stare.

She wanted to answer him that as a hostage, she did not think she would have much say on the matter, but she couldn’t speak. Could she ever go back home, now that she had been branded an enemy of the church? But her sibling must still care for her, he had agreed to a talk upon learning of her captivity. Ben’s hand on her shoulder made her pause, and she realized both parties had stopped at a careful distance from one another.

The view of her brother standing in front of his men made her gasp. Jean-Christophe was still as tall and handsome as she remembered, though his eyes were a lot colder than before. He looked a lot older, perhaps the burdens of command, she assumed. He was staring at the Parkhat’s man intently, not sparing her a glance.

“Chaffaud, you can’t imagine how glad I am to see you at this meeting.” The hooded man said, ignoring the general. The lord was standing among white-clad knights behind Brother, looking angry and tired. “I must ask, what was it that made you turn against my employer?”

“How dare you ignore me, do not tell me you called for this parlay just to speak with the councilman?” Brother said, he sounded irritated.

“Please, as a leader yourself, you must understand. Knowing why one of your subordinates betrayed you is important, for future reference at least.” The brown coat said calmly, though Cleo was sure the insult was deliberate. “So what was it, some misplaced sense of nobility? Or was it the Parkhat letting you voice your disapproval freely getting to your head?” He continued, turning to Chaffaud.

“You imagined I would take orders from a gutter villain all my life?” The Lord said, his face twisted in disgust and hate.

“You really are a disappointment, all this plotting and scheming, only to trade a master for another? I would respect you more, had you tried to take the Parkhat’s place for yourself.” Cleo could swear she heard a sneer in the man’s voice, and Brother coughed impatiently. “Apologies, now let’s deal with our little problem, General.”

“You call the mightiest army the continent has ever seen a little problem?” Her sibling raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be overly dramatic, soldier.” He spat the word.

“I did not come here to be insulted by a filthy criminal, this discussion is over.” Jean said, turning to his guards.

"What difference is there between a criminal organization and a government? At least criminals dont pretend to serve the people." The hood mused out loud, only managing to anger Brother further.

Cleo felt a pang of fear as the armed men grabbed the hilt of their swords, and Ben tensed at her side. As dangerous as he had proved the previous night, she did not think he stood a chance facing such odds. She swallowed a lump in her throat, did her sibling not care about her safety? She tried screaming but the sound was muffled by the cloth over her mouth.

“Do you want to go back to your Emperor and tell him you conquered a pile of rubble?” The Parkhat’s man voice rose, cold and firm. Brother held out his hand to steady his men and turned back to the speaker. “Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t listen to me. The Parkhat will burn this city to the ground before he lets you rule it.”

“You would not dare.” Jean-Christophe said firmly.

“You underestimated him and paid dearly for it, a good number of your mighty Templars lie at the bottom of the bay as a result.” Cleo was amazed at the man’s audacity. He was blatantly taking credit for the success of others and taking the threat of thousands of soldiers as a mere inconvenience. ”Are you prepared to make the same mistake twice? You know the man’s reputation, do you really think that he’s bluffing? He is quite angry at your betrayal.”

“Betrayal? Strange word coming out of the mouth of a criminal.” Brother sneered.

“You thought you could bypass my employer and use Chaffaud? You overestimated his influence, do you really believe all the work in Polkiad was his doing? Preposterous. He wasn’t able to perform a simple task for you, be it opening the gates or retrieving your sister. The Parkhat only used him because he needed a noble figure as an intermediary with the Empire.” The man shook his head in disbelief. “Soldiers really don’t understand politics.”

Cleo realized she had been right, there had been a conspiracy to start a revolution in Polkiad, one the Empire had used to invade. She would never have suspected her brother to be a part of it though, it sounded far less honorable than her image of him did. And what price had the Parkhat asked for such deed, she wondered. She also understood why Chaffaud has been sending men in search for her, it had been to avoid her being held hostage against her sibling. Jean must still care about her after all, despite what Ben had said.

“You have broken contract with him and he has taken it personally.” The Parkhat’s voice drew her attention back to the exchange.

“A mere merchant making threats.” Brother said. His face looked impassible but the Lady knew him and he was worried, she realized.

“Soldiers play the game of war, eventually they lose and die. Whereas we traders are always there to sell them weapons.” Cleo was a bit surprised hearing those words, was the Parkhat really seeing himself as a tradesman rather than a criminal? The mention of the weapon trade was also worthy of note, it answered a lot of her previous questions. The underworld king had proved even more frightening than she had imagined. The man was pitting whole countries against each other, only to sell more swords.

“Soldiers can easily kill arrogant merchants.” Jean-Christophe pointed out threateningly.

“And a bear can easily crush a man, yet who rules the world?”

Cleo watched the clash of egos take place, wondering if attacking her brother’s was the right approach. He had never taken kindly to people bellittling his military career. Though he respected strength, be it martial or of character.

“You need the port and the city intact, that’s why you had to rely on surprise and schemes. You failed, and you might as well tell your men to stop pretending they are gearing up for a siege.” The young woman was in awe, the man was standing alone against a famous general and his army, and winning only with words. She wished she had his confidence. “Now, I’m willing to make everyone happy. You can put your insignificant little flag atop the Parkhat’s city. You can land your troops and use the port for your next military plays.”

“And what would your employer ask in return for such generosity?” Brother frowned, surprised by the offer.

“You will not interfere with the city’s rule, you can put an official at the council and give him all the titles you want, but it will only be for show. The Parkhat also wants a seat for one of his representatives at the Empire’s council.”

Every man present seemed taken aback with the request. Cleo was angry, handing over the city to the Holy Empire after everything she had done to protect it felt like losing. She tried moving but Ben’s grip on her arm was firm, and screaming over her gag proved useless. She turned to the thief, giving him a pleading stare.

“Sorry lass, but ‘tis the best way to avoid blood, I think.” He whispered to her, looking apologetic.

“The Emperor will never agree to that. A commoner at the high council? Preposterous.” Brother said, outraged.

“As a reward for offering you Polkiad on a platter, and then Gravelroy without bloodshed? I’m sure you can sell this to your master.” Cleo saw him shrug before he turned around and began walking away.

“What about my sister?” Her blood froze in her veins at the question, and her eyes met her brother’s for a moment.

“Since you have broken contract, I will keep her with me, as incentive for you to keep your word.” The hood said and gestured at Ben to grab her and follow.

The Lady watched, helpless, as Ben dragged her away on the sand, her sibling and her hopes of freedom turning their backs on her and moving away.