CH 8.1 Breaking Down the Brothel

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Raba was Alex's guide through the base of a rocky hill east of the camp. She wasn't afraid of flying, earning Alex's respect. The path to the brothel was worn down, but the rocks were rough and jagged, the route treacherous to walk upon. The path was twisting and rough, making it difficult to tell what was ahead. Raba also wasn't afraid approaching Flint's brothel, earning more respect.

The dark stone structure was built into the side of a hill, with no windows at all. The only light entered from the top and illuminated a narrow, winding staircase that twisted upwards. A musty smell pervaded the air but Raba pushed Alex back from the entrance.

Raba walked in but wasn't gone long. Her normally grim expression deepened and she nodded at Alex.

Alex drew her sword. "How many guards?"

"Four. More to keep the girls from running away, though. I don't think you'll have much trouble."

Alex entered the narrow doorway and the floor felt gritty under her feet. The steps were narrow and roughly cut, causing many a slip as she climbed.

At the top of the stairs, Alex faced the first brothel guard. He was only average height and his sword was short and dull, his armor was fashioned of simple plate. He smelled of leather and stale beer.

"It would be embarrassing to fight you," Alex said with a plea in her voice. "Please, throw your sword down the stairs. In fact, would you please roll down them as well?" Alex drew her gleaming Guardian sword. "I can use this and throw you down them, but you would be hurt a lot more. A lot. And I'll still win."

The guard gave a piteous cry, threw his sword down the stairs, and then screamed as he rolled down them. Alex grinned briefly until a second guard popped into the hallway. His face was broad and crude, his features savagely ugly. The left side of his face was covered by a scar. He was a head taller than Alex and his armor was thicker and more durable than the first. His sword was very plain in design and well maintained. His heavy boots stomped the dirt and his steps echoed around the brothel.

"You're going to give me a fight, aren't you?" Alex said. "Surely you aren't going to make me kill you, are you?"

He huffed and spat in the dirt. He drew his sword and rushed Alex. She side-stepped him and kicked his rear. He turned with a deadly grace, his sword was angled to cut her throat. She parried and tried to stab at the side of his neck, but he ducked and the blade sliced across his temple. Blood flowed down his face and he staggered, almost falling. The smell of blood was so thick in the air she could taste it and it seeped into her nostrils. She landed her most powerful push kick in his middle and he fell down the stairs.

Before she could catch her breath, she felt, more than heard, the swoosh of a sword behind her. She dodged to the side and tried a spinning kick, which, as usual, did nothing to the more solid reptiles. Once again, she briefly wondered why she ever tried it.

The sword was cold as it pierced her right ear, cutting into the cartilage and bruising the flesh so that it felt like her head was full of jelly. She felt the hilt against her cheek, so she brought her sword up to parry and kicked his knee at the same time. He went down hard and his sword spun out of his hand.

"Stay down," Alex said. "I prefer not killing you."

He nodded, breathing hard and holding his crushed knee.

The last guard stood at the door, sword drawn. Alex spun, ducking into the motion and letting the blade rise up with her, almost as if she had been swinging it herself. Her eyes widened and she thrust the extension of her arm towards the guard's head. The backhanded cut whooshed through the air and landed on his temple.

He jerked back so the wound was superficial. She then slashed behind his forward hand and cut the top off of his left thumb. He let go of his sword, which she kicked. He held his injured hand against his chest and backed away from her, then ran.

Alex walked down the hallway, kicking open each door. There was a frightened girl behind each one, and occasionally a frightened customer, who ran at Alex's ferocious and bloody appearance. She couldn't find Flint, the brothel owner.

Probably out luring more young girls. Bastard. But now what do I do?

Alex realized the enormity of what she had done. There were a half a dozen girls and she had no idea what to do with them. She walked down the stairs and yelled out the door for Raba.

"Wait here for me." Raba walked past her and up the stairs.

She was gone a long time and just when Alex was about to go in after her, she came out, trailed by the girls, a sort of female Pied Piper. They each clutched a small bag of possessions, probably all that they had.

"We're going home," Raba said.

"Home?" Alex asked, intimidated.

"Yes, Dola and I will care for them. We will share our mercy with them."

"Who's brave enough to fly out of here?" Alex asked.

Every girl stepped forward and volunteered, as if they were starving to fly free, being released from the cage of the brothel. Alex squeezed a few girls' arms, hugged a few more, and winked at a couple more.

"Everybody hold tight to each other and you won't fall," Alex said. "I'll hold onto Raba and you, the oldest." She smiled at the largest girl, who nodded somberly.

Alex flew slowly, gently banking back and forth over the rocky hills. She glided in an arching turn, like a loving parent, who floated over the children's cribs in the middle of the night--to soothe the girls.

When they set down at the Mercy Tent, Dola welcomed them with a warm grace that set the girls at ease.

"I'll fetch supplies," Alex offered and walked back to camp, wondering both how that small tent could hold all those abused girls and how she was going to buy enough supplies.

***

A/N

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