The Blade Witch: Songs of Eldrin, Book 0.5

Chapter Twelve - Fortune of the fool

Brennan used all the strength his starving body could muster to throw a man to the ground who'd stepped into the path of his escape. He stumbled forward, nearly losing his footing before he caught himself on a crate, sending its contents rolling across the pave stones. The guards made an awkward dance that brought a smirk to the boy's face as he watched them stumble over the cabbages. The city guards were older, faster and stronger, but he was smarter and brains were what counted. He tossed them a parting wave and turned to scamper away.

He'd only taken a pair of steps before a hand entangled itself in his hair with a grip like frozen iron.

"Oh no you don't you little fucker," an angry voice growled in his ear, wrenching his head back to look at the man he'd shoved. The middle-aged man's hair was already entirely grey with a scrawny beard that made him look more like a goat than a man, but despite his weathered appearance, there was no lack of strength in his hold. "Think you can just-"

"Stop where you are!" the guards shouted, having regained their footing and some of their dignity.

"You women want something with this one?" the man asked, tugging at Brennan's lice-ridden mane to move him towards the two panting guards.

"Aye," one of the guardswomen answered. "Caught him peddling contraband on the streets again. First time's a warning, second time's a night in the jails, but the eighth time? Even for a kid that's worth a good lashing."

The goat man looked down at Brennan with a grey eyebrow raised. The boy tried on his few most innocent smile, only to see the man shrug and toss him towards the guardswomen.

"Thank you, sir," the other guardswoman said, digging in her pocket. "Captain would have had our arses if he'd found out we let another one get away. Especially this one, caught him kissing on his daughter behind the schoolhouse last week," she said, producing a few tokes in offer to the man, which he politely declined.

"No need for a reward, just an old man doing his part for the twelve."

The guard hesitated, her kind grin dropping from her face. "You one of those dogs of the Faith from the convent up on the cliffs?"

"Can't say that I'm a dog miss," the man chuckled. "Still, I am an ashah of the one true faith and I firmly believe in the Enlightened, if that's what you're asking. Hopefully that isn't an issue?"

The woman drew her hand back. "I suppose not. Free city means all faiths are allowed. But you better not go around preaching yours or there'll be trouble," she advised the man.

He nodded, his warm smile never faltering. "Good to hear then," he looked down at Brennan with mild curiosity painted on his face. "What was the boy selling anyway?"

"Just some stuff I found lying around is all," Brennan yelped, struggling to free himself from the larger woman's painful hold on his wrist.

"Aye, lying around in the catacombs to be exact," the woman said, twisting his arm all the harder. "Right piece of shit you are, stealing from the dead."

A glove walloped him across the back of his head, dropping him to his knees before he was promptly hoisted up again. "I'd love to have a chance at you myself for all the trouble you caused us, but the caps made it clear he's gonna beat you till you piss red."

The woman's words gave Brennan an unwelcome image, making his legs weak at the thought. He suddenly found himself regretting ever having met Emelia Voucher and her beautiful black hair. He'd known she was a temptress and the Madame had always said stay away from the girl's who'll give it up for free, but he'd been too dumb to listen. Now the only hope he had was praying that her father only knew about the kissing and she'd managed to stay quiet about the more dastardly things.

The big woman led him forward, forcing him towards his dreaded sentence. An outstretched arm impeded their journey and Brennan was surprised to find that it belonged to the goat man.

"The catacombs you said?" the man looked down at him as if he were appraising a mule at the auctions.

"Aye, that's right pillar man," the other guard answered.

"Hmm," the man stroked a hand through his beard thoughtfully, seeming to struggle with some crucial decision before he found an answer. "My fair ladies, would you two be willing to consider a deal?"

The guardswomen exchanged a glance at each other, then looked back towards the man. "Depends on what kind of offer you're suggesting." The shorter guard said, rubbing two fingers together to make her meaning clear.

"And it'd better be a damned good one, with the way the captain would chew us up," the larger guard added.

Brennan looked about in confusion, not understanding exactly what was going on. He could see that his freedom was being bartered for, but not exactly why. He watched the goat man reach down to dig in his boots, wondering if he intended to use him as a toy for some sort of twisted pleasures. He'd heard of that happening to many of the other orphan boys.

"Oh, I think you'll find my offer more than acceptable," the man said, presenting three golden tokes.

Never in his life had Brennan seen so much wealth in anyone's hands outside of the brothel. His mouth watered at the sight and he forgot about his fears as the aching in his stomach took over his thoughts. The goat man placed a toke in each of the guard's hands, their eyes leering with excitement, even wider than Brennan's.

"One for each of you," the man said. He placed one gold coin in each of the women's palms and held up the last for them to drool over. "This one is for your captain. Now if you two are wise enough to make sure it gets to the man, you'll likely avoid the worst of his wrath. I'll also throw in the assurance that he won't have to worry about the boy breaking any more laws, though I can't promise anything about the likes of his daughter."

He placed the toke into one of the guard's palms and Brennan could tell from their wolfish glares that they'd rather take a lashing themselves than give up that much money.

"Good deal then sir," the big guard said, releasing her death hold on Brennan. "The whelps all yours and we'll make sure none of the others bother him for a good while."

"I thank you kindly and may the twelve go with you in your endeavors," the man said. He moved his finger in a circle over his chest, tracing the twelve-pillar symbol his faith, ignoring the guard's half-contained looks of disgust as they shambled away quickly to waste their newfound wealth.

Brennan watched them leave, amazed at his sudden change of fortune before he turned to face the goat man. "I'm not sucking any worms if that's what you had in mind."

The old man erupted in laughter, patting Brennan on the shoulder hard enough for it to hurt. "Can you not hear boy? I'm a servant of the Faith. You've got no such things to worry about."

"Then why'd you pay off the guards for me?" Brennan asked.

The old man waved his hand through the air, dismissing the question. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. Until then you owe me boy and I'm going to make sure I get every toke I spent back out of you," he pointed towards an elderly woman grunting as she bent over to retrieve her dirtied goods from the ground. "You can start by helping that nice woman clean up the mess you caused."

Brennan huffed but moved to help the woman anyway. He thought about taking off for the brothel, wondering if the old man was quick enough to catch him. Instead, he decided that the Madame could do without his lute for a night or two. It was better to be a servant to a rich man for a while than to spend his days being coddled over by whores and his nights scuffling in the catacombs. What was the worst that could happen?