Thieves at Heart (10 page)

“It’s something all fathers say to their children,” Derk said, shaking his head at her. He leaned over and cleaned her mouth with the cloth, rolling his eyes at her messiness.

“You don’t say it to me,” she said after she swallowed. She reached to pour another mug of ale but Derk’s arm was longer and he did it for her, pushing the mug away from him.

“I do, though not like that,” he said. Derk set his arms on the table and stared across the food, not touching any of it. “What did you think of Hock?”

Tavera took another swallow and burped into her hand before she shrugged. “Fat. Kind of nice. Kind of mean. I…don’t think he likes me.” That wasn’t it, not totally. Hock was important to Derk, she knew that. He had taught Derk about being a thief, initiated him into the Cup all those turns ago and he had come to see what she could do. He smiled at her and bought her berries. And he appreciated her helping him with the card game, she knew that. Had she done something wrong? Were her chances at getting into the Cup and making Derk proud ruined?

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s not that at all,” Derk assured her. “He just…you’re young. There’s only so much you can do and understand. He’s more upset with me,” he said finally, and it sounded like an admission. “When Hock took me on, it was different. I was older, already a bit known.”

“Does anybody want me to be around?” Tavera asked, suddenly feeling angry. Her hands were clenched into fists and she didn’t feel like crying. She wanted to hit something. Hock maybe, or Old Gam or Derk, depending on how he answered. Derk sat back in his chair, startled by her question.

“Of course, Kiff. I don’t throw girls in sacks once a phase to build muscle, girl.”

“I’m not a girl or a boy and I’m not…just your crow, or a watcher or nothing like that,” she said. “I’m…I’m Tavera.” She was frowning now and her heart was pumping harder than when she had run from the village boy, though all she had been doing was talking quietly. She wondered why she felt so hot all of a sudden.

“I know, Tavi, I know,” he said quietly, real names usually reserved for behind closed doors. He got up from his chair and sat beside her, hugging her shoulders. When he did she noticed she had been shaking and when he offered the mug of beer to her she took it, gulping from it noisily. “You still want to stick by me? Even when others think it’s a bad idea? I’m sure some family here would be happy to have another daughter, especially a smart one, Though you’ll have to change your britches.”

Tavera smacked him, wrinkling her nose at him and laughing. He had asked the question but when she looked at him she knew what he wanted her to say. She thought about the people in the town and the villagers and their lives and shook her head. Tavera’s ear perked up as the flute player and the singer started up again, several patrons walking over to the small dance floor they had set up. “Pa, what was you like as a little boy?”

Derk puffed out his cheeks and blew out his breath, seeming to search for an answer he could give. “Well blond, for one.” Tavera sighed with exasperation and tried to smack him again but he grabbed her hand before she could, pushing it away. “Like most children, I guess. And much like myself today. I looked for adventure and disobeyed my pa. Liked to climb trees, hide from people. Liked girls a lot.” He smiled down at her before he pushed her hat back, kissing her on the forehead. Derk stood up from his seat and held his hand out towards her. “Now, the hour of eating has passed, my good sir. May I have a dance or am I going to have to take it from you?”

Tavera laughed and stood on her chair, taking Derk’s hand and jumping off the chair. They both walked to the small dance floor, Derk taking her hands in his and leading her in a lively four-step. Tavera rolled her eyes as the singer began to sing. The song was about rabbits. Tavera danced anyway, stepping and hopping to the beat and laughing uproariously when Derk grabbed her by the hands and spun her around till the room turned into one big happy blur.

CHAPTER 5

Misconceptions & Miscommunications

“By Her paps, girl, what in the hems are you doing?” Derk placed a hand over his eyes and entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Tavera stopped mid motion, looking over her shoulder at her pa, then to the onion in her hand, her face void of shame but instead painted with the annoyance of most adolescents. She took a deep breath and resumed what she was doing, not caring if Derk was in the room or not.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” she asked. “I’m rubbing an onion on my tits to make ‘em grow bigger.”

Derk half succeeded in stifling a laugh, almost dropping the cigarette he was starting to roll. He finally didn’t bother to hold back but instead let out a highly amused guffaw, crossing the small room they were sharing as he did. “You mean to say to make ‘em grow at all,” he chuckled, avoiding the evil look that Tavera gave him. Her pa laid on the bed and brought the end of the cigarette to his mouth, not bothering to light it but letting it dangle there as he spoke to her, a look of contentment on his face.

Tavera had grown quite a bit since he had taken her under his wing. Her limbs which had once been gangly and too long for her body were now better proportioned and muscled lightly. Her mouth had lost its pathetic drooping and now was pert and full, more apt to be quick with a quip or joke than a sigh or a whimper. Derk had told her she’d be beautiful in a few more years, though more than likely she would lack in the womanly endowments she so desperately wanted. Tavera was doing everything in her limited power to prove him wrong and she continued to rub the onion on her chest, turning her bare back towards him. “That’s as big a load of shit I’ve ever heard,” he offered her at last, and she could see his blond eyebrows raising on his face in her head. “Who told you that?”

“Old Gam did, last time I seen her,” she said, her voice rich with false wisdom. The sound of Derk’s laughter made her purse her lips in anger and her face grew hot with annoyance at him.

“Old Gam? I’ve seen what she’s got ‘tween her neck and belly and I wouldn’t put any stock in what she’s got to say.” Tavera heard him try not to laugh and she slammed the onion onto the table and hurriedly pulled her blouse back in, fumbling with the ties as she knotted them. She could see he was trying to take her concern seriously but the smile threatening the corners of his mouth just made her angrier. Derk sighed, loudly. “Besides, why’re you so keen on growing before your meant to? You’re still young, I think, you’ve time enough.”

Tavera didn’t say anything but kept her back to him, staring at the wall. She could feel his eyes set on her and all the humor draining from his voice “What, is there some boy you’re looking after?”

Tavera whipped around, her short, dark hair flying and the look on her face betraying her, although she was already protesting loudly. Derk shook his head and made an exasperated sound, looking around the room for something to light his smoke with. “No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want you running round with boys or doing stupid things just so they like you. It’ll end badly, take my word.”

“Take your word?” she half shouted, her voice squeaking as she did. “I ain’t never seen you with any women ever, save ma and Old Gam. What d’you know ‘bout relations?”

“Relations?” Her father found a match in a pocket of his pack an struck it on the table, lighting the lamp first and then his cigarette. Derk took a deep drag, holding the acrid smoke in his lungs as he spoke to Tavera. “This ain’t about relations, this is about young people acting foolish and getting into shit they shouldn’t be.” He exhaled quickly, almost choking on the last bit of smoke and pointed a finger at her, ignoring the face she made at him. “You start liftin’ yer skirts for boys who like big tits, you’ll get into the kind of trouble I won’t be able to help you with. You’ll wind up like Daffy Helk.”

Tavera blinked and leaned back a bit. She didn’t understand what her father was implying. “What d’ya mean? He’s crazy ‘cause he’s old. That’s what the priestess said.”

“She just said that because she thought you was too little to know,” he said taking another drag, laying back in the bed once more. “But obviously, the truth would serve better in this case. He’s like that because he’s plowed too many women.”

Was he telling the truth? Tavera kept her dark eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her flat chest as she looked over her father’s face, trying to read him. Sometimes he did just say things in jest to her but this time he looked sincere, his blue eyes shining with earnestness. Tavera thought about the old man who wandered the town of Greenmire. He was disgusting and seemed to be wasting away, sores on his fingers and face a clear sign that he was to be avoided. Helk was always mumbling to himself and falling over things, the people in the alleys he frequented staying away from him. How could that be caused by women? She shook her head no. “You’re just saying that to scare me.”

“I ain’t lying. Everybody knows when you sleep with too many people, you give away too much of yerself and you fall apart. His brain ain’t right because he’s got too many women in there and not enough of him to keep himself together.”

“That don’t make no sense,” she said. “Why don’t faithful folk go mad then? Wouldn’t they be giving themselves too?”

“They give themselves to the same person though, so themselves is already there. They’re just changing it back and forth and coming home to it every night.”

“What are they giving?” she asked, her voice more filled with curiosity than disbelief. Derk took another drag, his face tranquil and looking rather pleased with himself.

“Their humors, their personality, themselves. Why d’yah think children look and act like their parents? Even if they’ve never been around them, they always act like them, or at least one of them.”

“Why ain’t the brass crazy, then? They sleep with men all the time and most of them have more sense than most.” At this, she saw Derk stiffen, sitting up in his chair more; whenever she mentioned prostitutes he behaved this way, growing graver and always speaking poorly of their profession and behaviors.

“They don’t give themselves to anyone,” he said quickly, flicking the cigarette with such agitation, the bit holding the flame popped out, rolling across the table with its menacing glow. He reached over for the pitcher, pouring more than enough water on it to put it out, the excess dripping off the table and onto the floor. “They don’t put any emotions into it, only desire for gain. But I’ve seen men driven mad by them.”

“Well, maybe I can do the same,” she shot, flouncing her way to her pack, kneeling down to look for the long, blue ribbon Derk had bought her for her hair. She tied it carefully, feeling the top of her head to be sure it was in the right place. “Maybe you got me too late and I’m like them after all.”

He laughed out loud and Tavera cringed inwardly. She heard the melancholy in his laugh and finally she felt ashamed, having made her father think on something sad and maybe causing him grief with his words. She walked over to Derk and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her smooth cheek on his rough one.

“You’re like me, Tavi,” he said finally, kissing her on the forehead like he always did. “You feel things, though you hide it well. You must mind your humors or they may lead you astray. They’re good things to have, as they make life richer but you must temper them with prudence. Do you understand?”

“It’s bad enough when you’re all serious, now you go using big words and such. I hate it!” She grinned at him, her dark face filled with light. Derk’s eyes lit up and he stood up quickly, pushing her off of him.

“Tits, Kiff, you sidetracked me so, I forgot. Shamsee’s outside, a block towards the temple and needing you for a take. By Her ivory tits, seeing you and that onion made me forget! Go to it, now, it’s the one on the left!”

Tavera ran out the door of the room and down the hall, making it to the stairs and jetting down into the tavern proper. The tender raised an eyebrow as she zipped past the bar and darted through the door, almost running into two large guards as she did. They paid no mind to the scraggly girl who shot past them into the busy streets outside.

It was crowded on the street but it was easy to find who she was looking for. The tall, hawk-nosed man called Shamsee was right where Derk had said, a block away from the bar, his small table set up on the tiny sidewalk. Tavera breathed a sigh of relief, seeing she wasn’t too late for the take. The man shifted his brown eyes towards her ever so briefly before focusing on the crowd and in a loud, nasal voice he began his tirade.

It went as planned. He broke out the walnut cups and the pea, placing the pea under one of them and shifting them as he spoke in his hypnotizing voice, the crowd gathering around for a look and a chance to play. To prove his legitimacy and the game’s simplicity he would ask Tavera, a simple child, to play. He would give the cups a few turns, she would say she couldn’t play, as she only had a half piece that her father had given her for an offering at the temple. He would entice the girl, telling her she could make a much bigger offering if she played and won. Tavera would pretend to feign disinterest but play the naughty, poor child and take part in the game.

First she would guess incorrectly. This would cause the crowd to feel bad for her so that when Shamsee offered to double her money if she guessed right the second time, the crowd would become endeared to him for having pity on the poor girl. She would then guess correctly, much to her feigned delight and the pleasure of the crowd. Shamsee will have saved the day and presented himself as a man of honor when in reality he was neither a savior nor an honorable person. She would take the coin and get a bit more of the take later in the day, when he had played what he thought was enough or until a disgruntled and taken patron would turn over his table and try to beat the shit out of him. It was an easy way to help someone out and make a bit on the side.

Tavera laughed out loud, rocking back and forth on the old crate she decided to sit on, pointing at the man who staggered towards her. Apparently the game had been taken too far today and a patron decided to appease his embarrassment by punching Shamsee in the face. He had the beginnings of a black eye and was holding up a dirty handkerchief to his bleeding nose, his hat skewed on his head and making him look even more bedraggled than he already was. He sat down next to the girl and plopped a small pouch on her lap.