A New Dawn Coming

Chapter Four

“Well lads, looks like we found the stinkin’ bastard after all.” One of the soldiers, wearing a helmet with a yellow plume, growled. The floor creaked as the other two guards fanned out through the shop, chuckling.

They were all wearing identical leather armour. The boiled and cured leather had been died a familiar, deep blue and had Baron Keswick’s soaring golden eagle embroidered on the left breast. All wore sodden capes over their shoulders that dripped water. All three carried stout short swords in their gauntleted fists.

Faux steadied himself against the table with one hand, guiding Ahanna behind him with the other. His rapiers were laid against the main counter of the shop a ,million leagues away.

“Sense might have to wait a bit,” Faux muttered over his shoulder to Ahanna. He faced the captain while eyeing the other two as they attempted to flank him from either side.

“Captain, there really is no need for this. In fact, I had just decided that it might be best if I left the city. No hesitating, right now. I can be-”

The guard cut him off with a dry, grating laugh.

“No, I don’t think you will. You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble and the only way you’re leaving this city is at the bottom of the river. After you’ve dangled from a rope. Showing up at the magistrate’s estate was the wrong move. The ‘Silver Shadow’, ha!” The man spit on the floor. “You’re no better than the guttersnipes stealing table scraps.”

The two guards flanking Faux were closing in, working their way through the haphazard clutter of benches and tables, knocking over jars and vials as they approached. Faux backed away, one hand still behind him gently prodding Ahanna towards the back stairs. His arms and legs were almost back to normal and his thoughts were clear. Good timing, he thought.

“Maybe you’ll dangle right next to your pretty little friend there,” the captain sneered, eyeing the apothecary apprentice.

Faux tensed. He hadn’t considered what the guards being here would mean for Ahanna. He couldn’t bolt past them and leave the innocent girl behind. These guys weren’t giving him a lot of options.

“She’s got no hand in this. Why don’t you go hit up one of the taverns on the docks for a drink? I’ll supply the coin. Enough to last all night.”

“Doesn’t work that way lad. She’s helping a known murderer, she’s got no more rights than you do. You’ll both swing from the gallows. If Norward don’t sell her off that is. She’s a pretty little thing, might fetch some good coin for his lordship.”

Faux’s eyes flicked behind him, they were just about to the stairs, a couple more steps. He’d tried.

“Remember,” he said to the man leering at him and the girl, “I gave you a way out.”

Ahanna staggered behind Faux, her heel tripping on the bottom step. It was the movement he’d been waiting for. He turned and gave her a quick shove up the first step.

“Your room, bolt the door. Now!”

He stepped to his left, his back foot hooking under a low stool amid the clutter. Swinging his foot around, he slung the stool straight at the nearest soldier, who’d been only a few paces from them. The small seat hurtled straight at the guard. He raised his arms, knocking it away. It skittered across a low table, knocking a stack of parchments flying.

“That’s pathetic,” he growled. A confused expression crossed his face as the half-elf was nowhere to be seen.

Faux had lithely danced around the guard as the stool had sailed through the air, drawing a dagger from his boot top. The knife made a soft hiss as it slid along the man’s neck spraying blood across the floor. He tried to scream, but only gurgles escaped his lips as blood bubbled along his exposed windpipe.

The other soldier rushed in, seconds too late to save his partner. With a grunt and a shove, Faux pushed the dying guardsman into the path of his comrade. Despite tripping over the body, the soldier still managed a lunging s***h at the half elf. Faux stepped back and dove over another low table, arcing through the air and landing in a tight roll. He sprung back up next to his rapiers, managing to put some distance and objects between him and his remaining assailants. He swept up one of the swords and crouched, creeping to his left, as the two guards warily closed in on him, doing their best to flank him.

“You’re running up quite the bill,” the captain snarled. “It’s time for you to get cashed in.”

Faux ignored the jibe and continued to try and outmaneuver the two angry men. He was already breathing hard, the effects of the long night wearing on him.

The banter stopped. They’d known that he was dangerous before going in, and they’d witnessed firsthand how any small mistake could be their last. Faux had regained all feeling in his body, including a dull throbbing ache in his shoulder that intensified with each blocked thrust or sideways parry. It was beginning to wear on him more and more, threatening to drag him down. As his back bumped into the main counter he took a deep breath and tensed. There was nowhere else to go.

The soldiers each shoved a table to one side and opened up a small space in the cluttered shop fronting their quarry. The three combatants took stock of each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. The guards licked their lips, eyes darting quickly as they sized him up. Firm grips on their swords kept the blades from wavering, they didn’t look ready to break.

As if on cue, a brilliant flash of lightning set everything in motion. The guard to Faux’s right took a step and lunged. Faux sidestepped, using his rapier to guide the stabbing sword away from his body. It also brought him out of range of the captain, putting the attacking soldier between them. Lashing out with his foot, he caught the lunging guard across the face. His nose exploded in a shower of misty blood. The soldier staggered as Faux quickly slashed out with his sword. The thin blade slid harmlessly across the man’s armored shoulder, missing the exposed neck.

Stepping back alongside his partner, the soldier dabbed at his ruined nose with the back of his hand. His face hardened, eyes narrowing, as he spit a gob of blood onto the floor. The guards each took a couple steps away from one another, before suddenly bull-rushing the half elf. Taken back by the sudden shift in tactics, Faux took a step towards them before dropping into a tucked roll, taking him between the two men. They swung at him as the three converged, both swords missing and clanging off each other. Faux popped out of the roll and spun quickly, dashing back at the two guardsmen before they could fully recover.

His rapier darted, fast strikes, seeking and probing like a snake attacking two much larger predators. He couldn’t set up a killing or even a crippling strike though. There wasn’t enough space to maneuver. The two guards had quickly moved to box him in against a high table littered with powders and small wooden boxes. His energy continued to flag, and the two larger guards were starting to gain some confidence. Instead of attacking and looking for an opening in their armour, Faux had resorted to parrying and dodging. He twisted in the limited space as best he could, trying to avoid being penned in one spot for long. When he did get lucky, his rapier and dwindling strength weren’t enough to penetrate the guards heavy leather armour. The blade would either deflect away, leaving a thin s***h along the boiled leather, or bring up solid, unable to punch through the hardened hide.

His frantically searched for something to use as a distraction. Anything to help him open some space and catch his breath.

A sharp ‘twang’ split the room. The captain jerked towards Faux. His sword arm dropped, the blade clattering to the floor. His eyes bulged as his mouth worked, making no sound. He stared at the half-elf with a stupefied expression before collapsing forward.

The remaining guard paused, staring dumbfounded at his leader. He spared a quick glance for Faux and then turned to look behind him, towards the source of the released bowstring.

Ahanna stood about halfway down the stairs, a thin short-bow held in one hand. Her other hand still in mid-air, next to her cheek. She looked as surprised as the remaining two men. Her wide, bulging eyes stared, fixated on the guard captain sprawled across the floor. Two thirds of a goose-fletched arrow jutted from the center of his back. The bow wasn’t much but at such short range it had plenty of power to drive the bodkin-tipped arrow through leather armor.

Not wasting the opportunity, Faux lunged towards the startled and distracted guardsman. His rapier stabbed, driving through the guards exposed neck, straight to the hilt. The soldier tried to twist, to look back at Faux, but wasn’t able to move as Faux held the sword in place. Blood bubbled at the back of his throat, spilling over his chin to run down his chest. He gurgled something unintelligible at Faux before his body went limp. Faux yanked the blade free, letting the body crash to the floor. A widening pool of blood spread across the floor.

“You’ve got the Blessed One’s own timing Ahanna,” Faux panted, staring down at the dead guardsmen. “That was starting to feel like a rather tight situation.” When she didn’t reply, he looked up at her. She was still frozen, staring at the captain, her draw hand hanging limply by her face, bow arm extended.

“Hey now,” Faux recognized that look. He laid his sword on the reddening floor boards and edged his way towards her. “It’s okay Ahanna, you didn’t do a bad thing. You saved my life. This man would have taken yours too, if he’d gotten through me.” He spoke in a calm, reassuring tone. He held his hands in front of him, as if approaching a wild animal he was afraid might bolt. “It’s okay. We’re alive. You saved us both.”

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were depthless brown pools in the flickering lamplight, rimmed with tears. “The Blessed One says to never raise your hands in violence. I...I...killed a man.” She shivered, her thin night dress billowing gently, as the winds continued to invade the small shop through the shattered door.

“I think she’d understand,” Faux cooed. “You saved a friend, you saved your own life. You can continue to help and heal people. These men would have killed me, had you killed, and probably your father too. They didn’t give you a choice.” Faux reached out a tentative hand, his fingers brushing her shuddering shoulders before wrapping her into an embrace.

Rain still hammered the ground outside the shop. The uneven and arrhythmic pounding of the drops on the slick stones, mimicked her erratic and wild heartbeat. It pounded hard enough to make him think it’d burst from her chest.

She let the bow clatter to the floor, resting her head against his chest. Wracking sobs began to course through her body as the adrenaline flooded out, leaving a void that guilt threatened to overwhelm. Faux stroked her hair awkwardly, whispering soft shushing noises and gentle reassurances. After a moment, Faux could feel her regaining control of herself. She clung to him, tightly at first, but as the sobs subsided her grip loosened. She swiped at one eye, leaning back to look up at him. Her normally serene and pretty face was streaked with grime and blood. Tears had made twisting paths along her strong cheekbones and her lower lip still trembled.

“You’re right of course,” she said in a hushed whisper. “But they were only here because of you.” She paused, her voice regaining its strength. Her eyes bored into Faux’s, “I’ve turned a blind eye to what you do Faux Falaran, somehow justifying it as Jahlenea’s work, removing evil from the city. But no more. I told you earlier that it was the Blessed One’s work sending you to me, to save you and give you a second chance.” She paused, her eyes flicking to the dead guard with an arrow jutting from his back. “I didn’t realize that it’d be proven quite so literally. But, it’s time to move on. Use the gift she’s given you.”

“I will Ahanna, I promise.” Faux laid a hand over his breast. “Come daybreak I’ll be out of the city.” He sighed, “I don’t think I have much choice in the matter anyway.” He kicked the boots of one of the dead guards as he stepped back and retrieved his rapier, wiping it clean on one of the soldiers sodden cloaks. “And I’ll look for a new line of work, everything runs its course. Maybe I’ll grow some herbs and open an apothecary in some spit of a town. It can’t be that hard, can it?”

“You’d just end up killing people in brand new ways.” She grinned, relived that he agreed to her advice. “It’s more art than anything else, and you my friend would need a lot of help.”

Ahanna surveyed the wreckage of her father’s shop; the dead men, and pools of blood staining the floor. She let out a loud, shivering sigh. “How I’m going to explain this, I have no idea.”

“Well, perhaps Jahlenea has sent me to help you too,” Faux smiled, approaching her with a menacing gait. “The evil half elf broke in here. You thought you heard a noise and came downstairs. I grabbed you, and forced you at sword point to patch me up. These heroes of the city had followed me though, and showed up just in time to thwart me killing and raping you; but at the cost of their own lives. During fight, you got away and ran to your father’s room, bolted the door and tried to wake him. By the time you came back down, with father in tow, I was gone, the guards dead.” Faux looked at her expectantly.

“You’re mad,” she laughed. “That’s absurd!”

“Is it? It’s almost what happened. We’ve just changed some motivations around a bit. I think it’s quite believable.”

“Yes, well, you would.” Ahanna extended her bow towards Faux. “You’d better take this though. And these,” she darted back up the stairs, returning with a quiver of arrows. “They match the one in his back,” she pointed her chin at the fallen guard captain. “Not the sort of thing to leave lying around when trying to sell your half-brained story.”

“True. I’ll return them as soon as I can.”

“No, you won’t! You’ll be out of the city by daybreak, those arrows and that bow gone with you. Go home. Get Lydia and leave Estermont.”

He slipped the quiver onto his belt and slung the bow over a shoulder. “I guess I should be off then. I want to be far along by the time the city watch gets here. The mud outside the city walls won’t help much in hiding tracks, so some distance wouldn’t hurt.”

Ahanna hurried over to the main counter and ducked underneath. She rummaged around, popping up seconds later with a clear flask. A blood coloured fluid swished around inside.

“Take this,” she urged. “It’ll help get you going.”

“And what might this be,” Faux asked suspiciously, remembering how a short while ago she’d given him another potion that had knocked him senseless as a dwarf on a seven day bender.

“It’s a revitalizing potion my father makes,” she seemed appalled he’d even have to ask. “It’ll make you feel like you had a full night’s sleep and keep your body going for hours, well into morning. After the night you’ve had, it’ll help you get over the walls and put some miles between you and the city.”

Faux took the potion and stood, staring at the small slip of a girl who’d helped him so often with minor nicks and scratches. She’d went well beyond anything he’d ever expected to help him tonight. She was beaming, her natural tendency to help people, him in particular at the moment, overshadowing her earlier grief.

“Thank you Ahanna,” Faux said solemnly, “for everything. You’re a better friend than I deserve. I’m sorry I brought this into your house.”

“Nonsense, it’s what friends do. I’ll be fine, don’t you worry about me.” She leaned in to give him a parting hug, gripping shoulders tightly. “Although I do appreciate your sentiments, especially since sentimentality isn’t your strongest trait.” She released him and stepped back. “Use Jahlenea’s gift, may she see you safe and grant you mercy.” He clasped her hand and nodded before turning for the door.

The rain hadn’t let up at all, but it had been a while since Faux could remember hearing any thunder or being blinded by a streak of lightning. He trudged along the dark streets, a little surprised that it was still the same night. Although only a couple of hours had passed, it felt like weeks had flown by. He crested a small hill, walking carefully on the rain drenched cobbles. He glanced back once, confirming the small apothecary was out of sight, before ducking into to a narrow alley to his left.

He’d sworn to Ahanna he’d be out of the city and on to a new life come day break. That left him with a few short hours to make a couple of quick stops. Baron Keswick’s sigil had been emblazoned on the guard’s armor who’d come after him in Ahanna’s father’s shop. The same one the brute of a swordsman had worn in Norward’s manse. Faux loved a clear target.