Smoke and Iron

Chapter 4-A Surprising Revelation

                                   Andreas

The light of the candle is the first thing I see before I am flung out of bed. Landing on the floor, I hear the unmistakable laugh of Ren. Damn I was hoping he would be out somewhere else tonight. Grunting, I slowly stand up to see Ren arms crossed with a smile of glee stretched across his tan face.

"Thought you would get out of going, but not on my watch you're not," Ren said.

"You got it all wrong," I say, "I was just resting my eyes is all." The lie rolls off my tongue before I can stop it.

Ren rolls his eyes, his face showing that he does not believe me for a second. I sigh, my eyes roaming towards my bed. Body yearning for the comfort of sleep.

"What place are you dragging me to now?" I say, giving into the impending doom that will surely transpire this night.

The corner of Ren's mouth ticks up in a grin. 

"Oh just some little tavern down by the docks. I heard that the locals are celebrating its tenth year since its acquisition. A celebration unlike anything ever seen." 

Standing up he grabs a canvas sack by the door and throws it into my arms.

"Here," he says, "you'll need to wear something that doesn't look like a funeral shroud."

I glare at him as I open the sack. Inside is a dark blue shirt decorated with moons in silver thread with it is a pair of new black pants. Thankfully, these are not decorated in garish designs like the shirt. I put the shirt and pants on along with my boots, a belt and four daggers with sheaths. I place two under my sleeves and the other two in one boot each. Just in case we come into contact with any roaming ne'er do wells.

"So, what place are we going to that requires me to wear such ridiculous clothes," I say as I grab my cloak and put it on.

Ren avoids my eyes, pretending that his attention is solely focused on the wall.

"Ren," I growl, "the name."

"The Coal Inn," he says at last, "but don't worry Merrick is also going so it won't be just us two."

I stare at him, my head beginning to hurt at the thought of what we were about to do.

"Are you saying that you are planning to go to a tavern that just happens to be right in the middle of the most dangerous place in the city? The territory of the most dangerous gangs. Just so you can go to a party and drag me and Merrick along with you."

"Well when you put it that way it sounds like you expect to never return," he replies.

He looks at me to see if I buy his little act. I do not but the only way for me to get any sleep is to let him drag me along or I will never hear the end of it.

"Do you promise not to start a fight that ends up with me dragging your ass through the streets?" I say knowing that my chances of getting out of this are slim.

"I promise," he says as he claps me on the shoulder and steers me out the door and down the hall.

"I won't make any of those thick headed grunts and bilge rats mad enough to warrant a brawl. Though I would love to see how pathetic they fight." His face reveals the temptation to do just that.

"As long as we're back before dawn," I say,  "I would like to enjoy the rest of my time off you know."

"Don't worry," Ren says, "We will be back here before the soldiers do the morning drills. Now let's go and make that frown of yours disappear."

Shaking my head, I follow him down the stairs and out the back of Headquarters. Covering our heads with our hoods we make our way quietly across the courtyard. The noise of the day has been replaced by the sound of crickets and the distant sound of music. The stars overhead struggle to shine their light through the thick clouds. We head to the gates, the soldiers seeing the cloaks and our hidden faces let us pass without a word. 

Heading into the city, we enter the maze of alleys and streets making our way towards the docks. When we find Merrick leaning on an alley wall a few blocks from the Iron quarter, do we take off our black cloaks. We stuff them into a bag and put on brown leather jackets that the folk around here wear. After hiding the bag under a stack of wood, we make our way down the street and into the bowels of the quarter.

The buildings here are old and squat. Some of the windows are boarded shut with the remnants of paint peeling of the walls. Even at this hour there are people everywhere, some heading home and others walking in and out of taverns, shops, and brothels that line the street. Illuminated by coal dusted street lamps that give off a hazy yellow glow. 

Eyes alert we make our way towards the docks the smell of saltwater and the sound of music getting stronger as we walk. After dodging a wagon as we cross the street, we find the source of the music that now permeates the air.

The street is lined with buildings of gray wood and stone. However, one stands out from the rest. A large two story black wooden building takes up most of the space. At the entrance there are sailors leaning against it, their feet tapping to the beat of music. Inside the tavern blazes with light and a roar of laughter and singing can be heard.

Ren takes off and I have to run to catch him. Merrick close behind me as we enter the tavern. Inside we find men and women dancing on tables and two acrobats jumping across them. On the small stage at the back, a young man beats on a brass drum. With him, a girl in a red dress plays a pipe while she spins around much to the crowds delight.

Ren yanks me by the arm and drags me to the bar, pushing past rowdy men and women dressed in shocks of color like my shirt. Many of them have blades tucked into sleeves and boots, making me uneasier by the second. As we sit down and take off our coats at the crowded bar, we catch the eyes of none other than the owner herself. 

I have heard of Miss Cole, who is said to be as kind as a cat and mean as a sea demon. She is tall and muscular, eyes the color of storm clouds, and hair dark like iron. Known for her reputation as a seller of stolen goods. Items that her band of pickpockets steal. Once homeless orphans that are now practiced thieves and liars. Said to be able to blend in and not be seen until their marks are left with empty pockets and purses. Wondering where their money had gone.

"So what will it be for you lads," her voice teasing, "how about some of my family's recipe it  will put some hair on your chest." Her eyes rake us up and down as if deciding to let us stay or throw us over the nearby docks.

"Three ales should do the trick," Ren says, placing some coppers on the counter. He smiles at her as if he does not realize she could have him pierced with a knife and thrown out at any moment.

She turns and heads to get the ale. When she is out of sight, I look at Ren with a face I am told has caused some to quake at the sight.

"Do you realize she could have us robbed or murdered at any moment? She's not just some tavern owner serving ale. She is one of the most dangerous crime lords in the city."

"I don't think that has ever stopped him before," Merrick says. 

I turn to him a confused look on my face as Merrick barely ever talks. Even when facing down gangs of thugs in the dead of night. Merrick laughs quietly, a chuckle barely audible over the din.

"It is his nature to be reckless. As your nature is to be cold and calculating. And mine is to sit here quietly and watch both of you make fools of yourselves."

I am speechless, never have I been told that I was cold. Though at times I knew I was. 

Before I can answer though a flash of green cuts through the corner of my eye. Quickly I turn in my seat to find the object that has turned my thoughts away from murderous tavern owners. On one of the long tables spanning the room I see a girl clad in a skirt made from scraps of brightly colored cloth. She dances along the hard wood, leather shoes seeming to float above it. Her arms move gracefully as a swan's wings and her dark hair shines in the candle light. The thick strands seem to be woven through with thin threads of silver. Threads that shine like molten metal.

When the music slows down, she slows as well while spinning in a slow graceful circle. Turning ever so slowly only stopping once she faces the bar. Eyes of green sea glass stare at me across the loud room. I am struck at how different she is from when I first saw her in the alley. 

Gone is the dust and dirt of the street. Her eyes now outlined in kohl draw me into their greenish depths. Her arms are lithe and defined against the sleeves of her blouse as well as her legs beneath her skirt. I even catch the flash of a knife hilt hidden beneath the many strips of fabric. The men seated at the table that she now commands stare at her in awe and longing.

In an instant one of them reaches out to touch her leg with a dirty hand. A fatal mistake for the dimwitted lowlife. As if sensing him she spins, her foot making contact with his face. He cries out in pain and falls backward hitting the hardwood of the floor. Shock and anger paint the faces of his friends. 

Rolling her eyes she goes back to dancing making her way down the table in small leaps and dizzying spins. With the music still beating the many onlookers, now wary of her dancing feet, watch with rapt attention. At the end of the table she jumps across the floor to the stage never missing a beat as the music increases its tempo. 

Three other girls join her and together they dance to the sound of pipes, drums, and the grand piano in the middle of it all. Faster and faster the beat goes until everyone is out of their seats dancing and stomping their feet to the rhythm. Ren practically pulls me from my seat to drag me into the fray. Swallowed by the crowd I hold onto him for dear life as well as trying to keep my feet from being stamped into the floor. 

Thanking the gods for Ren's nagging for me to learn how to dance, my feet fall into sync with the crowd. 

Hooking arms me and Ren join others in a circle as the music continues to get louder and faster. As we circle I can make out the figures of the four girls on stage. They sway and shake their hips laughing they jump off the stage causing the crowd and the circle to make way for them. 

Ren stumbles into me nearly tipping us over as the crowd moves. Soon they are joined by four guys all dressed in bright shirts and pants. With belts that hold an array of small knives and metal disks and when I look closer the girls do too. 

Suddenly my arm is grabbed and all I see of the person is their long red hair. I am pulled into the person's arms coming face to face with a girl whose cheeks are covered in freckles and eyes the color of jade. As soon as she puts her arm around my shoulder I'm whisked into the mad dance. 

I let my feet take control, the memory of nights spent inside taverns and music halls embedded in them keeps me from falling over as we glide across the floor. I glance towards Merick hoping that he will save me from this chaotic form of torture.From his perch at the bar I can see him chucklin so much that his blond braids shake widely against his chest. 

Thankfully I'm not the only one that has been coerced onto the floor. Ren got grabbed by a girl dressed in purple, her face spread in a catlike smile.  Hopefully he remembers to watch her hands or he will go home with pockets empty of coin. The other dancers pick out their partners from the crowd until all are matched with both willing and unwilling partners. 

We then switch, and I'm paired with a blond with fingers encircled by rings of silver and gold. Her clothes are the color of seafoam and shells. Swirling designs of waves and dolphins decorate the fabric. 

The sound of the drum grows louder and my legs are on the brink of giving out. As the music nears its end the blond spins me and I'm sent across the floor towards another female dancer. As soon as my hand encircles her waist and hers my shoulder the music stops and is replaced by the roar of applause. 

Instantly my head goes up until I'm staring into eyes that threatened to draw me in just as they did in the alley. Gasping for air, our breath heaving, she smiles, her lips drawn back revealing a small dimple on her cheek. My eyes roam across her face committing every detail to memory. From her dark curls and soft cheekbones, to her small nose and full lips I find it hard to look away. 

Remembering the knives on her belt I drop her hand and step back only to have her move closer till her lips are a breath from mine. 

"Afraid of something," she whispers her eyes peer at me through her lashes as if looking for my very soul.

"No I'm not, I just need a breather is all," the words slip from my mouth in a rush.

She chuckles at that, a dark chuckle making my body tense and still.

"Well then I guess I better let you go," sighing she continues, "a pity really we could have so much fun together." 

Her eyes light up at that and her smile widens into a feral grin as she traces a line down my throat with her fingers. I can feel my pulse beat faster as they make a line all the way down to my collarbone.

 "Enjoy the rest of your night and watch your pockets. If you're not careful you will find them empty in the morning," she says. 

Taking her fingers from my skin she walks away, skirt swishing back and forth as she makes her way towards the glass doors leading outside to a dark stone courtyard. 

I head to the bar slipping past women with eyes that rake across my skin and men who look at me with a mixture of jealousy and contempt. Sitting down next to Merrick I grab the mug in front of me and drink the frothy liquid. Setting down my mug I reach for the metal band of my pendant. A pendant that was the last gift my mother ever gave me before she died. 

My hand touches bare skin. The star shaped disk, now gone from its place at the hollow of my throat. Of course she took it,  me being such a cow-eyed i***t I didn't even feel it come off. 

Jumping from the stool I head towards the doors that she went through. Praying that she hasn't made a run for it, I push the doors open with a bang. They lead to a stone courtyard connected to the docks that seem to float on the water. Wooden bridges illuminated by the light of torches and lanterns.

Three paths lead to the yard. The two alleys on either side and a water drenched sidewalk. Which lies between the buildings and the dark water beneath the docks. My stride never breaks as I spy her leaning against the building as if she had been waiting for me all night. 

As I get closer I make out the glint of a knife as she throws it in the air. The hilt coming to rest in her hand. I stop a few feet away from her, my blood boiling in rage at the mere sight of those green eyes. Raising an eyebrow she grins those same eyes brightening in challenge. 

She reaches for another blade hidden behind the cloth strips of her skirt. Fishing it out she pushes off the wall and stands before me, a dagger in each hand and a smile on her face.

"Finally now the fun begins," her eyes never wavering from mine. 

Heart beating loud in my ears I pull out my own daggers. Metal sharp enough to cut flesh and dark as night. I return her smile, my mouth widening in a wolves' grin showing teeth.

"Ladies first," I say, my legs craving to leap and attack.

As soon as the words leave my mouth she moves viper quick towards me. I duck her dagger missing me by an inch as it slices through the air. I tuck into a roll and turn, boots skidding across the stone. Without a moment's hesitation I charge forward daggers at my side. Ready to end this before she makes her off with her stolen loot.

We collide our blades ringing out, the sound muffled by the noise inside. Neither of us seem to land a blow as we doge and duck each other's weapons and feet. A dance both deadly and graceful. After what feels like an eternity I find my opening and take it. 

Using the hilt of my knife I knock hers out of her hand leaving her with one lethal blade. I then push her into the wall and press my knife to her throat. Trapping her right arm between her stomach and mine I quickly sheath my other knife onto my belt and grab the wrist of her left in a vise like grip pinning it to the wall. Causing her to drop her dagger onto the stone.

Her eyes widen in shock, but not from the anger on my face. Following her gaze I see that my sleeve has been cut open during the fight. The light of the lantern overhead reveals a jagged cut into my arm. A cut dripping blood through the image of a white roaring lion with a sword through its chest. The symbol of Valdev. The royal crest. s**t, this could be a problem, a very big problem.