Homage

Shanked.


"You're bleeding quite a bit," Basle's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should see a Physician."

" It's nothing," I tried to answer calmly, my voice was sounding stark. " Get me to the Tabidian," picking up stride.

It was late as we walked. The streets were empty. The others were looking at each other, and at me. Two of the others were wounded. I wasn't in much pain but, my vision was beginning to blur. I needed to stay focused until we got to the apartment. I had to make it to the apartment. The blood was pooling in the fingers of my gloves and running in streams down my leg into my boot. I could hear drumming sounds in my ears as we rounded the corner.

" Dispose of the bodies, leave nothing in the alley," I sent the four I thought most capable, " Take Herschel and Castor to the Caste Physician." Basle refused to go with them, " No trace, do you understand? " The pounding in my head was getting louder. I swear I heard Basle say, " He's going to kill me for this."

We entered the double doors of the towers foyer. Behind a desk was the manager of the residences. His eyes widened with the quiet spectacle. He nodded his head once, and the elevator opened. Before the doors closed behind us, I saw three slaves with buckets and rags mopping up the spattered footprints I left behind. " Send the doorman a satchel, Basle, " I remembered to say. Once the doors closed, I began to feel the wounds. I slumped against the elevators wall. " Get a signal to The Cleaner, " I managed to get out with great labor, " For the trail on the streets." The last brother, Aradorus, exited the elevator on the second floor, and went to carry out my orders. Managing the situation seemed to help me retain focus.

Basle had acquired an apartment here in the Tabidian on the fourth floor. That is where we headed. I did not argue, it was closer. We stepped out of the elevator, the hallway seemed to stretch out to an impossible length. I was starting to feel cold. After what seemed ahns, we reached his residence. I leant against Basle, trying not to touch the walls. Basle slung my good arm around his shoulder. " I've got you, not to worry, " there was great angst in his voice.

I looked at him gravely and grabbed fist fulls of his shirt and cloak, " Do not let them see my face Basle, promise me." He was resolute and again the moniker for honor and ethics, " I will not allow it. I swear." He unwound my fists and brought a first aid kit. Tearing off lengths of gauze. "It's sterile, " he assured me. His hands were steady as he pulled the glove off. The blood had congealed some, making it stick and tear from the open wound. When he reached for my wrist I saw stars. He pressed the gauze firmly. I heard the door open quietly, " I think you'll be needing new gloves, She," Ibrahim had arrived with his caravans doctor, a man named Farrakan. " All is well, do not fret, " he nodded to me. He held my eyes a long while, without words I knew he would see me safely through this. " Mind her wrists, there are trigger daggers, " I heard Ibrahim warn the Physician. Basle made sure to unhinge them and unbuckle the mechanisms. I saw a bright light shine into my eye, and all faded to a haze. " The wound at her hip is a simple flesh wound, though there is still a shard of glass in it. This arm looks worse. I think the weapon nicked her artery, " was the last thing I heard.

I was standing in the meeting halls of the Black. Beside me, my sponsor. Before me sat three men their eyes filled with malice and judgement. Dragon, Ralton, and the eminent Captain, Surbus. I swallowed back my youth and inexperience like a hard lump of reality. My sponsor spoke, " I bring to you this pledge. She comes from years at the training schools of Ar. I have personally seen to her education further. She will be the one." He was held fast with conviction. The schools he spoke of were where I spent the entirety of my youth. When my family had died, my brother and I were sent there. Our tuition paid by a small estate. We lived under constant scrutiny and vigilant discipline. My brother was sent to the Red four years previous. The teachers had a different set of intentions for me.

I was not the first Woman to grace the presence of the Chairs. If I did not overcome that adversity, I could have been the last. An argument broke out amongst the four men. It was fueled by fists pounding the arms of the chairs. Raised voices became shouts. I did not move or flinch in time we stood before them. They would not see my fear, even when Surbus jumped from his chair with vehemence, I held still. In the end, the decision was that I was a necessary evil. A woman could open doors no man could. They would allow me probationary status. I could not take away coin from the Brothers, so they would throw me a few test contracts. Tests indeed were to be my lifes work and greatest chore. I would carve the way for the next. I would not falter. I would not fall victim. I would rise. Within the next hand, I had a Sister, Aspyyre, amongst the Brotherhood. She would walk this path with me. She and I would show them the error of their judgements. It was not long after, that the Chairs occupancy changed. They knew our dedication and zealous loyalty to the Caste. For this we were rewarded with the most difficult to obtain trusts. Tasks that took great patience and subterfuge. Soon we were no longer two, but twenty.

My mouth was dry when I awoke. It was daylight. I was still in Basle's residence. I sat bolt upright and felt my face, the wrapped coverings still there. The doctor fussed over me, making me drink thick juice. I asked for tea and was refused with mumbled comments. " Your defensive wound will take some time healing. I removed the glass from your side, it should be healed within a few days, " The Physician Farrakan said while packing his satchel, " See to it she favors that arm. The cut was quite deep. I can see by the scarring over the rest of her, she will know what to do. " He handed Basle a bottle of antibiotics. I laid back down. Yes, this was not the first time I'd jumped to meet a shank. Nor, do I believe it would be the last. As the fog of drug induced sleep came over me once more, I saw them. My trio of ghostly companions, ever present, rarely seen. Earth, Air, and Fire were there in the full length hallway mirror. The laudanum smelled sweet on my breath. I heard the Beloved speak. Darkness. Damned Mercenaries and their make-shift weapons. I had just broken those gloves in.

Prideful

I did not have to ask Ibrahim if he made the delivery I requested. There was no point, the giant of the deserts always completed requests as planned. Perhaps he leads an ideal charmed life. Lucky then, I have made him loyal.

"Yes of course, my First. It is done. The Crossroads will fulfill your request," I had said standing tall. He was gruff today. Haggard even. The plotting was taking its toll on his chiseled face, making it coarse. " I assure you, one way or another, I will get to him," I was held fast to my prediction. I have no choice but to be. Conviction. " May I ask, what will be the payment to the Woman, should she complete this for you?", I was referring to the Baker of course. I found myself curiously interested in what they would offer her at the end of all of this. They had said she would be compensated.

The First lifted his head he was looking at me, but not seeing me. He lowered his head, " Why do you wish to know? What difference is it to you ?", I should have waited more patiently, for a better opportunity. I answered, " I wish to know what to tell her, should it come to that." Hoping that was simple enough to secure the secret. " We will discuss it when that time arrives, " he answered dully. Moods aside this was the most emotion I'd ever seen this man betray. Was he entrusting me ?

" If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave, my First, " he waved me off only to call out, " She will be offered a position of standing. That is all for now, go."

I had left unceremoniously. No reason to leave with pomp and circumstance. As I walked the streets of the Anbar I thought of that meeting. Savana Vinquient, She Killer. Basle sat where I had put him. I half wanted her to pick him without question. Then I could find dislike for her. But, she did not. He was too transparent. Too young, and perhaps to eager. She had questioned my motives a great deal. It was good, her interest in our intentions. At first I mistook this for loyalty to the Woman. But, I believe it now was her own curiosity. Situations sometimes do need answers, even Black requests.

Tonight I would find the Tabidian Residence more to my liking. I have no need to don the robes and veils of the Apothecary for such a short stint. In truth, sometimes the smells around the stall gave me a headache, made me hallucinate. I had more business to attend, I was after all still painted.

I sat before my mirror, my reflections dancing behind me. The brush dipped in black paint was used. The mask of She stared back at me. The flame on the candles flickered. Two more men of Ar would find the dirt and nap forever. Dust to dust, and all of that. I had used this long respite to reinvent my plan.

No bodies would be found.

To Clement, or not to clement

The Contingency

He had said, "Let it be." Such is the way of men. Cruelest orchestrations set in tablets of salt. So shall it be done.


I am simply the messenger, delivering mortality at its finest hour for the price of a contract. Betrayal that singes the edges of family bonds. The brothers are good men. Just men, in the end. They have a dream that Ar shall return to its glory. Who cares in what kind of paper the present is wrapped? Isn't it the thought that counts? I see their vision, and believe its wholesome. Does this make me a puppet? I think not. I think this makes me a visionary. I am from Ar. Once, before the beauty of black paint I was an Arian Woman. Regal. Now I owe no Home Stone fealty. Deep within the recess of my heart I hold love for the city. Perhaps this is a fault, perhaps this is an asset. Relevant to be sure.



They had called for me, the Red and the Black. To be dutiful I arrived on time. I did not choose to linger at the door and listen, instead I simply knocked and entered. Call it pragmatism, but I am no longer interested in what their plans are, only that I carry out this task and have it be done. They were huddled over the desk, pointing at some plans when I entered. Neither seemed altogether interested in my presence only that the door was closed behind me.


"It seems as though our tides have shifted, my Sea, " the First had said. I nodded a reply. " Make an amendment to our previous order. We shall wait this out, and see what unfolds."

I said nothing in reply. But, didn't I suggest that? Whatever these two were plotting, if they wanted my opinion they would ask for it and they would usurp the idea as their own.

The Red looked at me full on. I think he was pondering a de'ja vu, at least one seemed to wash over his rugged face. I kept stoic, for should he know that he had spoken to me, in truth, stared upon my almost bare face, it might make him angry at the deception. He did drink much that night, also, he was one of those men who tries very hard. It was embarrassing. I did deceive him on purpose. I also, did it with great joy and slight sanctimony. He deserved it.


The two were passionate. Not about the affairs of most men, their passion was played out in a great love of their city and Home Stone. They wanted to rebuild, remodel, and reinvent it. I listened for a while to their discussion. It was provocative, and called for reform. It was citizen friendly, and at least sounded like an even balance of good and evil. Politics never made much sense to me. You must rob the poor to renovate the dilapidated. Seemed like a sad tale of budgets and taxes. To the two of them, it was the things dreams were built on.


I went to leave, and the First called for me, " You will continue on as if nothing has changed. Should clemency be called, I will do it personally. Do you understand? " As patronizing as it sounded, I think he just wanted to be reassured. " Yes, my First."



"You may go," he waved me off to show his control. Everyone in their own way is a thrall to something more important or powerful than themselves. I am no different. This is a profundity to which I will find no answer or end.