Milinda

After the next step there would be no way back, either she went through with it or she'd turn on her heel.The young woman didn't want to go but at the same time she certainly didn't want to find out what failing at the queen's task would mean for herself. Gathering up her courage she approached the gate and knocked three times. After several moments of silence, shuffling could be heard behind the wood, a small slit opened up, and a gruff, old voice answered.

"Who goes there?" Milinda gritted her teeth by the thought of it.

"One under Thanua’s favour."

"Hmm. Pass code?"

The last time she had used one of the gates there hadn't been a specific pass code, hoping to sway the old man, she took a step back and revealed her right shoulder and with it the intricate tattoo on it.

"I don't need a pass code.", she said in a bitter voice.

Once again there was a long time of silence when the gatekeeper mustered the tattoo and then herself.

"He, he, he, will ye look at that the failure made her way back to crawl under the mother's tit. Wait a moment yeah, little runt, I'll open up."

Several locks and chains were loosened when finally a smallish, old man appeared in front of Milinda. The almost toothless mouth was stretched into a derisive grin, but his hand was clutching a blood-soaked tourniquet around his side.

"So what's it ye want girl? Tired of ye cushy life as the queens bitch?" Milinda sneered at the comment, although she had expected this.

"Funny, are you sure it is not just jealousy speaking, Kartor? Because you look like shit, even more than normally I might add. I need to send a message to the masked-man." Old man Kartor's eyebrow arced up at the request, before his eyes stared into the darkness behind her.

"Ye, sure ye weren't followed?" Milinda only shrugged her shoulders.

"Hmm, ye best move yer arse inside." He quickly took her behind the gate and barricaded the entrance with locks and bolts, after looking at it for a second he went around a side, fetched a large wooden beam and jammed that under the contraption too.

"So, now we can talk, ye want to meet the boss, right?" Milinda’s gaze became uneasy.

"No, I don't want to, but I must talk to him on urgent business." Kartor thoughtfully scratched his beard before answering.

"Yeah, ye see last I heard the man decides himself what is urgent, and to be fair he actually is indisposed the moment." At this point the young thief grew restless.

"You don't understand, I'm to deliver a request from the queen!" This time it was Kartor’s turn to stare at Milinda.

"Ahh, fuck it. Ye best follow me, come on ye little runt."

The tunnel system stretched on for about five minutes when the pair came to an elevator that carried them right into the heart of the dust-roads. The cave was so big that the queen’s manor would have fit in at least five times and everything was cram packed with people, ramshackle huts and vendor stalls. In the middle of this flourishing black-market was a large devise to filter the air down here, it was a relic from before the breaches now upgraded with pieced together crystal technology. Rumours had it that a Magi visiting the city had built it in as payment for a secret favour.

During their walk through the crowded market, a lot of the people parted way to let the odd pair pass. Many of the folk knew the gate keeper by name and had a lot of respect for the man, but every once in a while Milinda noticed a few of the younger people pointing fingers at her and whisper in hushed voices, knowing her questionable reputation, she quickly pulled the hood on her cloak deeper in her face. The silence, the two had kept up on their way, was broken when she noticed Kartor wince painfully.

"Ah, I didn't mean to pry but you are kind of, eh, leaking? What happened?" Laughing in a way that was akin more of a dyeing stag than a human the old man faced her.

"Now don't ye worry ye pretty little kisser, got jumped by some young scum yesterday, fuckers got me in me side with a shortblade."

"Scum?” his young escort looked at him inquisitively. "What would a thief see as scum?"

Kartor once again chuckled to himself. “He, ye got me. I wanted to take a look at the new people in town. Who could have known that Sibaliens don't take so well to people snooping in their stuff and also tend to be a bit jumpy."

"Found anything out?”

"Nay, nothing really, cept that them Sibaliens have darn well kept weapons, and enough supplies to wage a war on their very own. They also have these . . ." The old thief stopped mid-sentence and shot her a toxic glance.

"Say, why are you interested in such a thing anyway?" "What, interested!? I . . . was simply striking up a conversation?", answered Milinda while quickly walking a few paces faster, before suddenly stopping and once again addressing her companion.

"Where are we going actually? We already passed a shop selling parchment. I could just write my message and be on my way right? Right?"

Kantor didn't even bother looking up when he gave his reply. "Nay, we're going to see the big man."

Upon hearing this, her initial courage faltered like a card-house. She had disappointed the masked man before and as punishment was almost made a deadly example. He would look not kindly on her returning into the Dustroads, or upon her crawling back to ask for a favour.

During the next few minutes the silence once again returned deeper than before and fuelled not by distrust, but a grave fear radiating of Milinda.

The duo stopped in front of a granite altar depicting the cloaked figure of a beautiful female construct, Thanua the thieving god. Both of them dropped to their knees whispering a common prayer, before they had even ended their psalms, a deep, melodic voice joined them in, finishing with the words.

“Your everlasting servants, in life, in death, in shadow.” after a moment the voice went on. "Milinda, my child, do tell what has brought you to me, don't be shy, do speak."

Milinda’s breathe stocked, and her throat closed up, her voice failing her, she turned around to face the figure. "I . . . the, waah."

Seeing the masked man did only worsen the situation. The man was tall, and broad shouldered, but instead of being hulking he moved with the elegance of a dancer, when he reached out and slapped her across the face, hard.Taking her by surprise and impacting with such strength, the timid girl crashed to the ground, her head hitting the hard stone floor with an audible crack. Blood pulsing from her forehead, her vision blurred the masked man looked not like a human but a demon.

"I told you to speak! So speak!" The eyes behind the mask were cold, cruel and they sparked with a disturbing intelligence. Kartor stood behind Milinda, whispering quietly.

"Stand up, Milinda. It will only get worse." Her muscles tensed and ignoring the pain she pushed herself to her feet, she would not fail the masked man again. One eye bloodshot by the impact and blood flowing freely down her face she stood tall before her worst nightmare.

"Fa. . . Sir, I apologize, my behaviour was foolish and not worth your presence. It will not happen again." The eyes narrowed almost as if the face behind the mask smiled.

"You know my rules; you were not to come back without a good reason." This was neither a question nor a threat, it was simply him stating a fact, a fact that Milinda knew all too well.

"I had already forfeited my life when I disappointed you, so all I can do is begging of you to hear me out, for the request with which I come to you is not mine but the queen's."

The eyes mustered her face for a moment searching for either a sign of fear or making sure she was honest. When he finally answered his voice was as neutral as before but a hint of interest could be heard.

"Very well tell me of this request, I am listening."

"The queen asks for your organization’s aid in keeping an eye on the Sibalien soldiers, and specifically on the Acolyte by the Name of Sharzade Greengarden." Without giving it even a second of thought the masked man answered her.

"Of the Greengardens, yes, she is an elusive figure, acting as the long arm for a lot of people’s hidden motives and has even more secrets of her own. Milinda the deal is made; tell your queen to expect news once we find out more. Now take your leave. Kartor will lead you outside."

Milinda and her escort had made their way towards the exit of the chapel when she heard the masked man's voice one last time.

"You did well, Milinda."

Shar

Sharzade stood atop the hill Sophia’s mansion was build on and looked down into the cozy town of Talesin. Back home in Ebessa, she had spent a lot of her free time watching the roof tops, but here it was a very different feeling, everything looked different.

There were no spiraling towers of sandstone and marble adorned with flowers and vines, or beautiful rooftop gardens fettering the air with their sweet smell. Instead the buildings were all relatively small, made from wood and dried loam, their tops covered entirely by odd pointy roofs formed of small stone-slabs, they were pretty in a culturally lacking sort of way.

On the other hand what she truly fascinated was the fact that most big streets and even an entire marketplace was cover in chiseled rocks embedded into the mud, almost like the towns in the northern countries. Though it must have been rather time consuming to make, they did help with the muddy ground.

Her eyes wandered for a time, taking in the architect and beautiful landscape to boot, when she spied a group of four sibaliens on patrol. Marching around for a while, looking tough and speaking to the populous they didn't do much of interest, until a smaller figure from their group, dressed in the robes of a priest, looked around, quickly scooped up a bit of snow, and continued to dumb it all into the neck of an armored soldier.

The victim of this childish prank began to break into such a ridiculous dance, that the young acolyte was gripped by joyful laughter and didn't even notice the broad shadow approaching.

She pulled her hand away only a split second before the tip of a shortsword pierced the flimsy fence she had been leaning on.

"Wasn't aiming for your hand, otherwise I'd hit it." Sharzade turned around to the owner of the voice, it was Taran, and looked him straight into the eyes.

"Than what is the point of doing it? Afraid to hurt me?"

Her voice was erring and her eyes slowly drifted down to settle on his groin. Taken aback by how shameless the woman before him seemed to be, Taran’s words failed him at first before he regained his composure.

"I . . . am interested to know what is so funny at an invasion. Also I'm not . . . interested in you . . . in that way!" Once again Shar began to laugh.

"Actually I am beginning to think that invasions are in fact a lot of fun! Believe me daddy's boy, I was merely teasing you, I am fully aware that you have a pretty little boy friend, or rather does he own you? I am still not sure on this part."

Taran’s body grew tense and he spat out in front of the Acolyte. His eyes glowered like the ones of an angered animal.

"Do not evade my question and answer already, what are you planning?" A few moments went by in which Shar didn't do much more than look at him puzzled, when she suddenly erupted into joyful laughter.

“Oh, you are adorable and so naive; I understand why the magi keeps you on a short leash. How about this, you will tell me what you are planning and in turn I will tell you what I told the queen.”

While his hand griped more tightly around his blade Taran’s eyes narrowed. “What plans of mine are you talking about!? The way I see it the only one scheming and threatening is you and your soldiers."

Her face held an unreadable smile though her eyes lazily strayed over his hands. "Captain An-Senlin, please do not take me for a fool. Simply tell me what you wrote in your message to your father and I will have no need to see for myself."

"You spied on us! And you openly admit it!"

"Well whatever would you do about that? It is simple, really, tell me what was written in the message and your courier will not be harmed. Do we have a deal, Captain?" Taran who had used the time of their chat to close up the distance between, leaned in and whispered into her ear.

"No deal."

He turned around leaving Shar with a sour grimace, when all of a sudden he drew is sword and lunged for her throat. The blade slashed through the air and hit . . . nothing but tempered steel.

“Wrong move, boytoy!”

Without so much as looking her right hand had drawn an intricate sabre from its scabbard and before the weapon could even nick her skin the Acolyte had parried the blow with the ease of a duellist, the tip of her weapon still facing to the ground she began adjusting her steps to Taran's, who in turn struck out. A side step later, the sword hit only air and Shar used it to switch the blade to her left hand.

"Come on Captain, to you really want to do this?" One step forward, a low swipe with the saber. Not letting her words distract him he saw the attack just quick enough to still dodge it.

"You know woman, you're good, but a noble like you hasn't trained her entire life like me, give up!"

"Cute." Shar didn't waste time, instead rushed forward into his defence. An attack from the left, than a wide swinger from the top, Taran evaded the first but the second he parried, letting her get close to strike back. Their blades crossed, his free hand grappling her sword arm, he stared her down.

"Make a move Missy and you will bleed, you've lost."

Shar looked up at him with a smirk.

"No, I haven't. There are two things you should know. First don't cross weapons with a cheat, and second you move and you will bleed."

He heard an unmistakable clicking sound beneath him, looking down he saw the flintlock-pistol pressed into his crouch. Sharzade only smiled at him sweetly before sheeting her sabre and stepping away. Deciding different she stopped in her track and addressed him for a last time.

"Captain, do not cross me again, or I will not hesitate to kill you." With that she walked out of the garden leaving Taran to the quickly approaching crowns guard.

"The Lady of Greengardens is approaching! Open the doors!" The two Soldiers, a man and a woman, standing guard immediately went into a salute as they saw Sharzade approaching.

“At ease soldiers. There is no need to salute me, I have gone through the same training regime as you, and so as far as I am concerned we are the same.”

"Yes, High Acolyte, as you wish." As Shar made her way past the two, her hand slid softly across the female soldiers chin, one alluring glance later she entered through the door.

Shar had never liked taverns, watered down drinks paired with undesirable people that lacked the spirit of true friends or the sensual company of a sexual partner. In her mind drinks should be strong, and enjoyed with one or two lovers, not with strangers.

But even with her disposition towards taverns she had to admit, that the soldiers had made a good job of making it feel like their home. Several large sheets of fabric were spun along the walls and the ceiling, imitating rather closely the look of a Sibalien brothel. Just like a brothel the soldiers not on duty were amusing themselves in the various ways of sexual pleasure. It was normal for them to fulfil the act while others close to them were watching and enjoying, having the effect, that the Zembian whores were more than surprised to have others sporadically come over and joined in on the pleasure.

Observing the goings-on for the time being she finally heard heavy boots approaching accompanied by the voice of Blackwell calling out to her.

"Shar, how come you visit us? Did the negotiations go over so badly?" His hair was dishevelled and is face red, the shirt not even closed, seems like he had been busy.

"Hm, it is too early to say that with certainty, but yes, I have need of your soldiers, as there is a lead that needs to be followed." Gellius scratched his head in confliction. "Yeah, that's the thing, Sharzade, as much as I would like to help you; I'm not really allowed to give you any troops."

"What? Under whose orders!"

"Quara's, she still doesn't really trust you." Sharzade let out a sigh of frustration.

"Just . . . just bring me to her; I shall talk to her myself." "Fine, follow me, be warned though, she might be in a foul mood."

"Nothing new there.” She murmured under her breath as she followed the second in command up the stairs.

The upper floor had been decorated in a similar fashion to the tavern-room, making Shar wonder on who had decorated all this, her bet was on one of the priestesses, they were widely known for their extravagant tastes. It was the last door in the hallway that Blackwell was leading her towards and promptly knocked on.

"Quara, Lady Greengarden wishes to speak with you."

A short while nothing could be heard but silence from inside the room, but suddenly the door was yanked open and they both looked into the disgruntled face of the female paladin, who was wearing nothing but a hastily thrown over robe. Quara’s eyes glared at Gellius who suddenly became very flustered. Her voice was filled with dry sarcasm when speaking.

"Does she now, huh? Can't say that I'm surprised, she is known to sometimes have clever ideas."

Shar's face showed no reaction to the words aside from a slight twitch of her left eyelid when she addressed Quara.

"Paladin Quara, would you be so kind to let us speak in private?"

"Of course, Lady Sharzade of the Greengardens, do come in!" As the two were finally alone, and Blackwell too had left, Quara let go of every last bit of faked respect for Sharzade.

"What is it that you want, Shar? I'm busy and the last thing I wanted today was the company of a freak."

Shar didn’t even acknowledge the insult; instead she simply walked further in to the room, and jammed her hands on the desk Quara was sitting at.

"Okay, we both know you do not like me and I do not like you, but despite this we have to work together. So in light of this you will close your mouth and listen to what I have to say." Without giving Quara the time to answer she carried on.

"This morning I observed a meeting between the captain of the city guard, the queen's thaumaturge and a military courier, they are planning something and we need to find out what. But for this I will need soldiers, how many can you spare?"

After a short while Quara looked up and without blinking said. "Four."

"Four?"

"I need some of them to keep up presence in the city, while the rest scouts out the ruins in the mountains."

"The ruins, what is there?" Quara seemed to think about what to say for short while, before she replied.

"We don't know yet, but we intend find out, it is nothing you have to be worry your pretty little head about. When should they leave?"

"As soon as possible, and do keep me informed next time you decide to go grave robbing, yes? Just so it looks as if we would work together, should be simple enough, right?"

"I get it Shar, now if you have nothing more to say . . . Oh, and when you leave send in Blackwell."

Shar indeed did not have anything more to say, and she left without another word.

She could always add another scar to Quara’s face if need be.