Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) (5 page)

I kept my hands up, palms showing. “Rimethil, I know this looks bad, but it wasn’t entirely your fault… things can happen in a panic situation, but you’ve done a good job of minimizing the damage. Nobody else needs to get hurt, okay?”

“Don’t give me that headology bullcrap. Back up. I mean it!” The knife drew blood. The girl sobbed.

The younger elf screamed. “He’s gonna kill her! He—he’s gonna kill her!”

There were half a dozen things I could do from where I was standing. Three would disarm. Three would kill. None had a good chance of leaving the girl alive. I lowered my hands. “I believe you.”

“Then get out of here, cunt!” Rimethil said. “Yeah, get out of here!”

I walked backward slowly. When I was far enough I turned and looked.

“Go on, get out of here!”

I turned a corner and disappeared.

“Heh. Ah-heh. We showed her.”

“I don’t want any part of this, Rimethil. We should let the girl go.”

Rimethil pointed the knife at the other elf. “Shut up, man. I came here for pussy and by the gods I’m getting it.” He licked the girl’s cheek. She whimpered.

“Is it true what they say about halfling girls? That you’re all sooo tight?”

“Let her go or—or you’re on your own!”

“Shut up, Berothien, or you’re next!” He pointed the knife at him again. That’s when I punched through the wall and grabbed him by his hair. I knocked him against the wall and he let go the girl.

“You like tight holes?” I asked. “Tell me, pretty boy, do you remember being born?”

He screamed. I pulled him through the hole in the wall. He wasn’t very pretty after that.

I kicked the hole wider and stepped through. Something squished under my boot. I ignored it. I took out a tube and pulled the pin. The flare hung in the sky.

The girl ran into my arms. “Oh gods! Thank you. Oh, thank you.”

I held her. “Miss, you’ve suffered an emotional shock. Do you have any family in the city?”

“N-no. I just got here.”

“There’s a homeless shelter not far from here. It has doctors and healers. I’ll take you there once the watch arrives.”

“Thank you, oh, thank you.” She started crying. I wrapped her in my cape.

“Do—do I have to be here?”

I looked at the boy. “Berothien, wasn’t it? House Larenn?”

“Yes. Oh, gods, don’t tell my parents.”

“That’s the least of your worries. You’ll be lucky if you don’t go to prison for this.”

“I didn’t know! I’ve never done anything like this! We were looking for hookers.”

“You thought this girl, all bundled up in homespun, was a lady of the night?”

“Rimethil saw her! They chased her in here. I just followed.”

The girl was still shaking, but hadn’t denied any of it.

“You have poor taste in friends, but I don’t think you’re guilty of anything else. Get out of here.”

“Thank you. Thank you!”

I silenced him with a look. “I’ll remember this, Berothien Larenn. House Elanesse has ears everywhere.” I lifted my boot and peeled off his friend’s ear. “See? So, if I learn you’ve tried it again, you’re gonna find out what else I can tear off. Now go home to your mother!”

It was near dawn when I returned to my father’s house. I made my way to my apartments and ordered breakfast through the speaking tube. The kitchen staff would be doing the morning bake but I deserved a fry-up.

“We’ll have it up there in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks, Joyce. Appreciate it.”

I went to the mirror to take stock. I removed the bracers and slipped off the gloves, then sat down to deal with the greaves and boots. The shoes came off with the help of a boot jack but I had to pull off the socks by hand. Straightening up, I unbuckled the harness of belts, straps, and pouches. I stripped off my kneepads. The leather wasn’t cracked, thankfully. I also inspected the pieces from my shoulders and elbows—they needed cleaning.

I unstrapped the leather cuirass and frowned. The punk’s knife had damaged the outer leather. Enchanted mail glittered through the cracks. It would have to be repaired, which meant a visit to the shop. I had spares though, so it could wait. Unzipping my jumpsuit, I peeled off the last of my armour. I was left wearing the same bodystocking that royal guardsmen wore. I stepped out of the bodystocking and tossed the protective cup to the carpet.

Looking into the mirror, I saw a young elf-woman in her underwear. She was perhaps a little taller and more muscular than was fashionable. If the underwear wasn’t as flattering as it could be, that was because they were meant to be practical, not pretty. They might be drab, but they were comfortable.

There was some bruising around the ribs and upper arms. I also had a split lip and a black eye. None of it worth a doctor’s visit, so I undressed completely and stepped into the shower. The hot water was plentiful and I allowed myself fifteen minutes of steamy, soapy luxury.

I was in my dressing gown when someone knocked. I said come in and the breakfast trolley entered.

Followed by my father.

CHAPTER 5:
MEERWEN

“Room service!” he said. “Tip generously—I’m working my way through mage school.”

“Daddy!” I hugged him. He hugged back and I gasped.

He let go instantly. “Ribs bothering you?” He gently tilted my face up. I pursed my lips, but there was no hiding my injuries. He looked at them for a long moment, then sighed.

“Sometimes I wish you were like other girls. If a boyfriend had done this to you, I would have known what to do.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Ah, the glamorous life of a vigilante. I would say more, but this splendid meal grows colder as we speak. Coffee?”

I shook my head. “I’m going to bed afterward.”

We pulled the trolley to the breakfast nook and sat down to eat. I loaded my plate with bacon, ham, and sausages, everything greasy and crisp. I attacked them with a fork. The side dish was yesterday’s rice, fried with peppers and topped with egg. I demolished that with the spoon. There were fried tomatoes, fried potatoes, and triangles of golden fried bread. There was coffee, chocolate, and watered wine.

It was many long minutes before I looked up at Father. He was sipping coffee and munching a dry waffle. “It’s been four hundred years since I had an appetite like yours. A pity. Joyce is an excellent cook, as halflings usually are.” He looked out the window. “Are we ready to continue our discussion?”

I drizzled a waffle in cheese and birch syrup. “Not a vigilante,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“You called me a vigilante, but royal guardsmen are authorized to make arrests.”

“But they usually leave that to the Watch, which is drawn from the city guard. They certainly don’t lurk in alleyways looking for hoodlums to beat up.”

“I do not lurk. I patrol.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you put half as much effort into your love life… I’m simply looking out for you. Your mother and I were expecting you at the opera.”

“Heh. I told you I’d be there, didn’t I? It’s not like you’re having Angrod followed.”

He said nothing, only steepled his fingers.

“You are having him followed, aren’t you?”

“I am aware of him, shall we say. It’s nothing personal—Angrod is a nice enough boy. It’s what he represents that’s dangerous.”

“A nice enough boy?”

“He’s a decent boss and a brave man in an emergency. He also has a hard time taking his duties seriously. I disapprove of his taking the throne, to say nothing of dating you.”

“You don’t think he’ll make a good king?”

“I have no idea. The point is, the realm has plenty of good leaders and decent men. Some of them are even in government. Meanwhile, apart from Angrod’s questionable ancestry, there’s nothing special about him. Somehow, he deserves to run a kingdom?”