The Auric Insignia (18 page)

     Fig burst into a giggle fit, lasting until she saw the scowling eyes that her employer made, fearing that her behavior would be the doom of him.

     - Uh, big, and hairy!

     - Like a wolf?

     - No, nope, no. They were big, like really big. And they weren’t gray either, they were brown, like poop.

     - Truly?

     - Totally. They walked on all four, and then, and then! There was one, who didn’t! Walk on all four, I mean.

     Fig cupped her hands around her mouth before leaning in to whisper the conclusion where Plista’s ear would have been, if he had had any.

     - It walked on two, two feet, just like you and me. Don’t tell Plista though, he’s this guy that’s been harassing me with questions, because, because you know, I’m not supposed to say anything.

     Plista smiled a tragic smile before he leaned in as well, to whisper his reply.

     - I promise, Fig, I promise.

     A loud bang, coming from the floor above, made everyone except Fig on edge. Raised voices and the sound of commotion followed.

     - I’ll go!

     Vaya set off for the staircase leading to the second floor, vanishing as fast as her hooves could climb the narrow steps. They heard a knock. It was Ippan, he was tapping on the window, hunched over so he could see inside.

     - Ippan, where’s Stari?

     Ippan interlocked his thumbs and flapped his hands, finishing off by pointing up towards the upper floors.

     - She flew away!? Up to the roof!? Where were you!? You were supposed to keep an eye on her! I’m in here, acting all professional and you’re out there goofing about. I mean seriously, Fig is looking better by the minute!

     Ippan, understandably, didn’t comprehend Marel’s train of thought, which showed on his face.

     - Marel, why don’t you just go up and help instead? Me and Plista will finish up down here.

     - Fine, fine.

     Marel set off up the stairs that Vaya had scaled just a minute earlier.

     - I am sorry, Mr. Hamarr, Fig, but as you can see, things are not going as smoothly as I would have hoped. We only need some directions and we will be on our way.

     Mr. Hamarr, now concerned that the situation would lead to further confrontation and, most importantly, to further destruction of his property, this concern made him eager to be rid of his increasingly unwanted guests.

     - Fig, go get my map!

     - Map?

     - My map,woman! It’s over there!

     Fig, completely unresponsive to the heightened tension around her, didn’t move a muscle. The escalating situation with the scene upstairs tore at Korri’s patience, pushing her to action.

     - For fuck sake, I’ll get it!

     - It’s in that drawer over there, yeah, that one.

     Korri retrieved a map drawn onto the skin of some animal. She threw it on the counter and rolled it open just as a bell started ringing in the distance. Now, everything happened all at once. Ippan knocked on the windows once more, pointing towards the center of town. Korri felt a new smell in the air, a smell coming from the stairs. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Marel came running down as fast as he could, a human under each of his arms.

     -Smoke...

     -Hey guys, small problem, there’s a, well there’s a fire. On the top floor, or more like the whole top floor is on fire.

     - Fig my dear, can you please mark where you went on your expedition?

     - A fire!? What the fuck happened!?

     - Well, one thing led to another and...

     Marel was interrupted by Ippan, who was once again knocking on the window, this time more urgently than before.

     - Just what I was about to say, Ippan. We should probably get going, just saying.

     - Where’s Stari and Vaya!?

     - They took the scenic route.

     - Marel is right, we should go before the whole town gets here. Mr. Hamarr, I am sorry to say, but I would advise you to vacate the premises for you own safety. The same goes for you, Fig.

     - When did we start having barbeque night?

     Together they made their way outside, Ippan opening the door to lift out a giggling Fig. When they had gotten everybody out safely, the Kappas hurried off, lest they get caught out in the open by a whole town full of people that had been rudely awakened by their nocturnal endeavors. Plista lingered long enough to apologize to the now inn-less innkeeper, before also he hovered away to catch up with the others. He didn’t know if Mr. Hamarr would say anything about his nightly visitors, but they wouldn’t be around long enough to find out. When they had all regrouped, Plista didn’t waste any time, but instead took out a rough direction to their destination, having failed to acquire any more detail from Fig, basing it on their newly acquired map. Eager to put as much distance between themselves and the trading town of Mark.

     Now, due to the circumstances forcing their hand, even if they would have wanted to wait for Roarke, Ama and Refaz, they were no longer able. So they didn’t stop, not even to catch their breath or to discuss what had happened. They moved fast, and in silence. Stari flew above as usual, with singed wings and a singed ego weighing her down, and when she looked back, she could see the aptly named Inn of Poor Portent, now a fiery beacon against the dark backdrop of the night. The whole house now completely engulfed in flames.

***

If you’re not up for it....

She strapped on her belt that held her two knives, pulling it tight. Finally she put on her boots and then she was ready to go. Marielle left the room that been offered to her and made her way down the stairs, on the hunt. Entering the bustling kitchen, she saw that it was already full of people hurrying to prepare the lord’s breakfast. In the stress and commotion, nobody noticed her still figure surveying the scene. She was looking for something, something special, she was looking for the right tool. Heat and steam filled the long room, spewed out from the stoves and from the pots standing on top of them, water boiling with roaring force. She observed every single one in the room, every man, woman and child, currently occupied with their morning chores. She weighed every move and evaluated every expression, looking for an instrument waiting to be utilized. When she didn’t find what she was searching for, she didn’t fret but instead, patiently moved on.

     She walked back the way she had come until she reached the main entrance, where she opened one of the large doors leading to the yard. Stepping out into the still somewhat gloomy morning, she continued her hunt. The courtyard was, in comparison to the keep’s kitchen, almost deserted, save for a few servants. On one side, the same young boy that had prepared her horses when last she left, was putting out fresh hay in the boxes. Marielle noticed that the boy, in contrast with all the servants she had previously observed, carried out his tasks with a smile on his face. If this was because he was too young to have experienced the hardships of the world he was living in, or because he truly enjoyed, and had accepted his lot in life, Marielle did not know. Whatever the answer was, he was not what she was looking for, and therefore she moved on. The only other servant visible was a small shape by the large kennel on the far side. Put as far away as possible, as to not spook the horses, Marielle had to move closer before she could see the servant more clearly. Steeping out on the gravel, Marielle moved with intent against the shape by the dog yard, presently bent over two large wooden buckets.

     It was a child, that much was clear. The long dark hair, matted and dirty from neglect, led Marielle to also assume that it was a girl. The girl was attempting to lift the two buckets, filled to the brim with precious water for the dogs. The buckets however, proved to be too heavy for the girl’s thin arms and just as Marielle was approaching, the girl’s frustration got the better of her juvenile patience. She let go of the handles and proceeded to kick one of the buckets in her anger. Her leg and foot, being no more sturdy than her arms, just ended up hurting whilst the bucket remained still.

     She cried out in pain as she hopped around on one foot, tears threatening to start running. Finally, she sunk to the ground, sobbing into her hands. The reaction seemed overly sensitive to Marielle at first, but then she recognized who it was that was crying in front of her. It was the girl from the cave hall, the screaming, crying child that had lost her mother. The girl who had refused to leave her dead mother’s side, even when Racka had ordered it. Her stubbornness and pain had gone so far that she had had to be carried away, screaming at the top of her lungs, by the other women. It was this behavior that had probably landed her with the task she was now currently trying to perform. Tending to the pack, the least desirable position for a servant keen on living a long life. Marielle watched the girl’s face, seeing her grief and anger on involuntary display.

     And there it was, what Marielle had been searching for. A desperation, a hatred, and perhaps, perhaps, the folly and guts needed for what Marielle had in mind. Wasting no time, she moved in on her prey. She squatted down beside the child who had, up until now, thought she had been alone. Looking up from her hands, she recoiled when she saw the woman sitting beside her.

     - Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s fine.

     Half expecting to be beaten for her unauthorized break from work, the girl reacted with confusion to Marielle’s kind words.

     - Hey, my name is Marielle. What’s yours?

     Marielle sold her words with the sweetest of smiles, not sure if the girl knew who she was.

     - I’m Offa.

     - Why are you crying, Offa?

     Rubbing her swollen eyes at the mentioning of her tears, Offa assumed a defiant expression.

     - I’m not crying.

     - Okay.

     Marielle sat down in the gravel next to the girl with the puffy cheeks.

     - But if you were, I’d understand.

     - You would?

     - I would. I would also understand that it’s not because you hurt your foot.

     - You would?

     - I would.

     They sat in silence, Offa making shapes in the gravel with her bare feet, Marielle patiently waiting at her side. On the other side of the courtyard, the stableboy was finishing his task of putting out the hay, after which he ran off to get his breakfast.

     - I hate him.

     - Who?

     - The lord.

     - I get it.

     - I hate him, I hate him so much!

     Offa dug her heels into the ground even harder than before, her feet leaving deep tracks behind them.

     - What if I told you there’s a way to hurt him, hurt him like he hurt you?

     Offa’s feet stopped moving and she looked up at Marielle with eyes showing the determination of someone older.

     - How?

     She had, like Marielle had guessed she would, taken the bait. Now, the only thing Marielle had to do, was to reel her in.

     - What, in this keep, is the most valuable to the lord?

     Looking around, Offa racked her brain for the correct answer, when something caught her eye.

     - The dogs?

     - Good, Offa, very good. Now, tell me, do you know what Water Hemlock is?

     Suddenly looking concerned, Offa shook her head.

     - That’s okay. Water Hemlock is a plant that grows in these marshes. It’s the one with small white flowers that grows in bundles, it also has purple spots on the stem. Do you know it?

     - Yes! I do!

     - Great, you see, Hemlock is poisonous, so if you pick some of them,  the roots are the best, and give them to the dogs, they will die.

     Marielle saw a sliver of doubt flare up in the girl’s eyes and quickly set out to extinguish it.

     - I would do it myself but they’re watching me. Besides, you already work here at the dog yard, so they won’t suspect anything if you were to give them anything, or put something in their water trough. But if you’re not up for it....

     - I am, I promise I am!

     - That’s great, Offa. See if you can collect some today so you can give it to them with their evening meal, that way nobody will notice until tomorrow.

     - Okay, I will.

     - Here, I will help you with those buckets.

     - Thank you, Lady.

     Marielle took the buckets and went up to the large cage like structure where most of the dogs where still sleeping. When she stopped to pour the water in the trough, two familiar shapes jerked up their heads. Rugeux and Braise looked up at Marielle, waiting to see if she would issue a command, but after a while, when they saw that that wasn’t the case, they relaxed once more.

     - And remember, you can’t tell anyone about this, it will be our secret.

     - Our secret, I promise.

     Seeing that people were starting to enter the courtyard, prompting Marielle’s departure from the kennel, she left Offa the girl, and the kennel behind her. Like a stone splitting a stream, she cut through the mass of people passing her inside of the main entrance. Sticking out in the flow of monotony and weariness that most of the workers emanated, the young woman that had been assigned as her maid, came rushing up to Marielle.

     - I am sorry, my lady! I didn’t think you would be up so early, please my lady, it will not happen again!

     The corners of Marielle’s mouth went up, playing her part as it needed to be played.

     - I was just going for a walk. Was there something special?

     - Oh yes, I’m so sorry, my lady! The lord sent a message to your quarters, requesting that you join him for breakfast in the dining hall.

     - Okay.

     And with that, Marielle left her nerve wreck of a servant behind as she started to climb the stairs. Making her ascent, Marielle could hear her maid calling out to her, asking if Marielle wanted her to join, or if the lady would like help changing before she ate. Marielle however, did not answer, her mind was preoccupied with other matters.

     The dining hall, set up in accordance with the rest of the keep, was gloomily lit. Marielle was let in by another faceless servant standing vigil outside the hall. The room was dominated by a long table, made out of the same robust, dark wood that most of the keep’s furniture was crafted of. The table was filled with the food Marielle had seen as it was being prepared in the kitchen. The food, going with Racka’s constant strive for humanity, lacked the torn up carcasses of cows and sheep that one would expect someone like Racka would consume. In their place stood platters of silver, filled with everything from sliced fruits, roasted meats, and pies, baked to golden brown perfection.

     On the far side, facing her, Marielle saw the lord of the keep. Not looking up to acknowledge her, Racka’s eyes never left the grilled turkey that  was currently lying in front of him, awaiting consumption. She saw that something had put him in a bad mood, even though his normal state was hardly calm. Nonetheless, she was not like the pitiful servants who scurried about the dark corridors like rats, she would not cower before such power plays. Walking up to the table, she sat down on the short end closest to the entrance, as an equal, a notion that wasn’t lost on her host. Like shot from a bow, the old servant with the missing hand, emerged from the shadows where he had been waiting for a signal that his presence was requested.

     - My lady, the lord had made arrangements for you to sit further down.

     He gestured down along the table, towards a spot where cutlery had been put out in anticipation for her arrival. Without taking her eyes off Racka, she answered the servant loud enough so that there would be no doubt about who she was talking to.

     - I’m fine here.

     Like lighting had struck, a bang bounced off the walls as Racka bit down on the leg of a turkey, crushing the thick bone inside. The servant jumped at the sound but Marielle didn’t flinch. Even though Racka’s sickening visage matched Marielle’s intensity, he did not object, and after some time, when he was sure he wouldn’t be punished for doing so, the servant hurried off to fetch the cutlery for Marielle. When he had moved them, he eagerly retreated to the shadows, and once more, there were only the two, the lord and the lady, left. Having conceded the first round, Racka was eager to lash out and proceeded to try his best.

     - So, Marielle, I hope the quarters given to you proved, suitable. I made sure you would have the finery fitting of a lady such as yourself.

     Marielle, as the superior player, saw his obvious attack and did not bite back.

     - Yes, they were perfect. My lord.

     She could see the madness spark as he failed to retaliate, going, almost like ripples through his body. Pretending like this was like any other breakfast, Marielle started to fill her plate with various treats. She ate the food like she didn’t have a care in the world, watching insanity incarnate across the table, trying to keep up his facade. Continuing her role in their play, Marielle guessed that Racka’s vexation had not stemmed from her choice of seating, but instead from something else. Something that pertained to that which to Racka, was the most holy, the master.

     So, as Marielle finished her meal, she nocked her metaphorical arrow, drew, and let loose.

     - Yesterday, while I was enjoying the comforts of the quarters you so generously had made available for me, I got a message.

     Racka tensed up, angry, jealous, and filled with an almost uncontrollable curiosity.

     - A letter, carrying the auric insignia, but you probably already knew that.

     Marielle washed down her last bite with her drink, emptying her goblet, after which she rose to leave. Racka, seeing this, couldn’t restrain himself any longer and rose quickly, turning over the chair behind him.

     - What did the master say!?

     Halfway on her way to the door, Marielle stopped and turned around.

     - He said to give his regards to you, the master’s most loyal.

     Walking out the door, Marielle heard the spark she had seen before, catch fire as Racka, screaming to himself, tore the room apart.

***