Jinx

Best merc company, in town

Maybe a small cut, Jinx thought. Just a tad more force here and the skin will pierce. Make him all pliable. More receptive to reason. Seeing him pale and sickly in color, she decided it would also do wonders, for his complexion.

Hmm.

Maybe here?

Clack…

…went her elbow locking up, her wrist snapping.

Ouch.

It was an old archer injury.

Well that, or she got it playing tie my tits up with that Lorian girl.

Was it… Moira?

“ARGH! UHER, YE CUT ME!” The cashier cried out, head banging on the small window, as he tried desperately to pull away from her. Blood run down his neck, right under the left ear, where her blade had nicked him.

A bit.

“Put some pressure on it,” Jinx advised him, the rest of the wagers stepping back, behind her. “It will get better soon.”

“I’m injured, you crazy bitch!” The pale man snapped, hand painted red to the wrist.

“Pfft. Tis nothing.”

“I’m bleeding!”

“And I bet on the fourth. Twas yer fuckin’ fault.” Jinx insisted, giving him a pass on the bitch part. Guy was injured. “You wrote it down all wrong.”

“Someone call the guards!” The cashier shouted. “Arrest her!”

“Arrest me?”

“Yes. You.”

“Are ye trying to rip me off?”

“I don’t know, what you’re talking about! Uher, I’m bleeding badly here!”

“ADMIT IT!” She snapped and made to grab him again, but he pulled away in full panic, retreating further inside his small enclosed office. Some of the taller men made to come near, but she snapped her head around, red rim on her eyes growing, all fired up and they paused, to talk it over instead.

“Hey… girl.” One of them said. Bushy brows, black hair, all unruly and not washed for a month. At least. Jinx puffed a pink curl out of her eye, smarting something fierce, twisting the side of her mouth upwards.

“Yes?” She responded politely.

Caught him unawares.

“Ahm… well—” He started unsure.

“Bet two gold on four,” Jinx deadpanned. “Gentle Gustav something, or other.”

“Which race?” The man asked with a frown.

“Second of this morning.”

He nodded impressed.

“Ye got good odds there. Big surprise. Horse looked half-dead, at start.”

Jinx pointed a thumb behind her shoulder.

“That cunt wrote me name wrong.”

The man, scrunched his nose. Seeing she was in the right.

“So he won’t pay.”

“Aye.”

A couple of the others appeared to come around now.

“Did that to me as well, the other day.” One of them said.

“Yeah, sneaky fucker,” Said another, the general mood taking a turn against the cashier.

“There’s a coin box,” Jinx explained, seeing them coming around. “Just under there. I get in from that small window, you boys help me out after. Keep my earnings, the rest is yours. Swear it, on my tits.”

Five times out of ten, this crap didn’t work, as people saw through her.

But she got a good roll.

Soren made to grab her coin purse next she tossed it up, but she flicked his large mitt away with one hand, caught it with the other.

“Hey!” The large Northman griped. “Where did ye get dis much coin?”

“Dante paid me,” She replied, moving out of his reach, in the small room their Captain had rented. Probably the cheapest, he could find.

“Didn’t give me as much, I can tell,” Soren said thoughtfully.

“I sucked his cock yesterday,” Jinx blurted, with a smack of her lips. “There, now ye know.”

“She’s lying,” Zola ratted her out, from her bed, shoulder still bandaged, but mostly healed. You wouldn’t know it, had you heard her complaining earlier.

“No I’m not.”

“You lie all the time Pretty.”

“She does?” Soren asked, too thick to remember, what they had for dinner yesterday.

Beans and sausages.

Stale for the most part, mouldy in others.

Curtesy of the venue.

“Zola, I think you need to change those dressings honey,” Jinx offered syrupy, turning her attention on the lying down Issir. “I can have it done in no time. Just undress for me, while I send Soren to buy wine.”

“Why not order from the tavern?” Soren asked, with a frown. As stated afore, yesterday’s meal forgotten.

“Tis not that good,” Jinx reminded him, adding with a suggestive look at the bountiful Issir woman. “What do you think?”

“Think I’ll shoot a bolt, through your teeth,” Zola replied dead serious, which Soren found terribly funny for some reason.

It was at that very moment that Dante Blackwood, all dashing in his fine leather armour, red belt with large silver buckle gleaming, sole Captain of the… somewhat depleted, Gallant Dogs company; entered the already crowded room.

“You’re late,” Zola said, diluting the effect of his somewhat grand entrance.

“City guard had blocked East Street,” Dante explained sounding worn out, looking to sit down himself. Zola was in one bed, Soren sat at the head of the other, with Jinx opposite him. No one moved to create space, or even offered; so the man gave up. “Took me two hours to sort through the bloody mess. Some scoundrel or other, robbed the clerk at the racetrack, injured the man; was the word.”

“Well, this city’s gone to hell, no surprise,” Jinx agreed, scratching around her non-existent nose with a finger. She had an itch there, since morning.

“Yeah,” Dante said. “Still, the sheer gall… bah, anyways. Rejoice brothers!” The latter delivered, with a patent toothy grin over his well-groomed goatee.

“High Magister Kelholt is dead?” Jinx probed hopefully. She hated that prude racist pig.

Dante blinked once surprised, himself a religious man, weather permitting; then stilled his blue eyes on her, a warning to pay attention.

“Now, I know we are somewhat well off, after our last job—”

He never got to finish his sentence.

“I don’t know. Kinda runnin’ low on coin meself,” Soren, the large Northman blurted.

“Are you jesting now? The twins are dead!” That was Zola, sounding mad. “And I got fucked up bad.” She added, pointing at her bandaged shoulder.

Jinx said nothing.

It came as a small shock to all.

Dante sighed deep and long, as if the weight of the world was on him.

“Zola, I meant financially, of course…” He put some timbre in, to say the next part. “…we lost some of our people. But are they gone really? Hmm?” Jinx rolled her eyes at his knowing stare. “They’re not… not as long as we remember them.”

“For fuck’s sake Dante,” Zola griped. “I liked Cessara.”

You did? Jinx thought, more than a little jealous.

“Liked her as well,” Their Captain, nudged the conversation forward next. “Perhaps not as much as you, but… financially, we got out well.” Soren made to speak, but Dante stopped him raising a hand, finger waggling theatrically his way. The red-bearded man closed his mouth and the Captain continued. “So when the opportunity arose to make even more, or about the same, for a much easier job, I took it.”

“Wait,” Jinx said, when he finished to a bunch of blank stares. Dante waved her to continue. “You got a contract, is that it?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“I’m too hurt to take another job Dante!” Zola snapped getting up, dark face all flushed.

“You’re not that hurt.”

Zola set her jaw.

“I am.”

“It’s an easy one, an escort job for a rich kid.” Dante explained, pacing the small room up and down, each time having to pause briefly, to wiggle himself past a not convinced Zola. “We take a boat, stay in said boat for a month? Doing probably nothing, but look at the drink and write poems—”

“Fuck,” Jinx added, getting a middle finger as a response from Zola. Dante just went along with it, experienced orator that he was.

“The whole crew, if so you please and that’s about it really. Thirty gold Eagles. Plus what I paid you, for the Zestari job. That’s a lot of coin,” He finished with a hand raised; thumb, mid and index finger rubbing at the tips knowingly.

Soren grunted, preparing to speak, Jinx thought.

Or farting.

“You’re low on coin,” Dante noted sourly.

“Aye.”

“I gave you, five gold Eagles two days ago.”

“Castalor is a bloody expensive city,” The Northman explained, the matter troubling him.

“Actually, it’s not. And I’m paying for this fine room.”

“Paying? Fine?” Zola snapped. “It only has two beds!”

“I’m staying elsewhere with Pale and Pretty…” Dante attempted to fix the numbers, pausing as he couldn’t.

“I only need a bathtub,” Jinx helped him out, with a grin.

“Yes, Uher helps us, can we move on now?” Dante asked, too eager to wrap it up. If it ain’t the money, Jinx thought, it’s the money. Who has that much coin these days? “So concluding, this much drawn out affair, I accepted the contract, so we’re going on… a pleasant journey.”

“Who’s the kid?” Jinx asked, what the others haven’t figured out yet.

Their Captain took a cavernous breath in, sucking half the air out the room, it seemed. Stalled, as long as he could, savoring it. Then he replied, much as the female Gish expected.

“Glen.”

“The lad is a murderer!” Zola snapped, after the initial shock passed.

“Aye, never liked him,” That was Soren, but it was doubtful, he meant Glen.

“What about the Zilan?” Jinx asked, thinking ahead.

“She wasn’t mentioned. I assume, she’s long gone,” Dante explained. “Sir Lennox told me, the lad’s Grandfather sent a ship for him. You know he’s loaded, now perhaps there’s some uncertainty with him being a bastard and all, but who are we to judge, right?”

“So we escort him to Raoz?”

“That’s the long and short of it Pretty.”

“What’s the catch?”

Dante crossed his arms. “No catch. I thought about it, pressed the knight hard, but it’s just an escort contract.”

“Why us?” Zola asked, coming around to the prospect of an easy job.

Their Captain shrugged his shoulders.

Adding hopefully.

“We’re the best in town?”

“Aye, that’s right!” Roared Soren, proud goofy smile on his face.

Zola stared at Jinx.

“I’ve heard worse,” Whisper Jinx said, with a shrug.

They both had a great laugh about it.

Much later, their bags packed, as they travelled with everything they owned in tow, in the time-tested manner of mercenaries this world over, Dante cornered her outside their cheap tavern and inn.

“It’s a risk,” He started. “A small one.”

“Thought it wasn’t.”

“Well yeah. Still I won’t lie that business with the Zilan around, worries me,” The man explained. “A little, was my meaning.”

“People might hang all of us, if they find her,” Jinx agreed.

Dante snorted. “It can’t be that bad. Who cares these days? Remember my grandfather saying how he went on a hunt for one. Forty, fifty years back. Found nothing. The world moved on, I suppose.”

“I don’t.”

“Bah, look at you. No one bothering Jinx, right?”

“The High Magister would.” She noted remembering.

“It was just a query, the man was curious,” Dante laughed it off, “Who cares what you believe? Sure, it’s foolish not to give a pray to Uher, once in a while. But no one will go on a crusade or purge. These things are in the past Pretty.”

“I’m tellin’ ye, man’s a sadist.”

Dante shook his head disappointed. “I know this world Pretty. No King will allow this, it will disturb commerce, peace and the Uher loving people around the realm.” He paused, thinking it some. “Along the non-believers, I suppose.”

A wolf waits for his chance, Jinx thought not convinced. Especially, if he dresses in sheep’s clothes and religious paraphernalia, Pale appeared with their horses, Jinx’s the most laden of them all. Soren and Zola right behind him, arguing about a missing axe, or something.

“You didn’t seem particularly interested in the coin earlier,” Dante said out of the blue.

So you noticed, Jinx thought, with a naughty grin, feeling a little touched.

“Knowing your likes, thought you’d appreciate us coming into such a good deal.” The man continued, angling for a compliment.

Such a sweetheart he is, our captain.

Jinx stooped and patted his leather sleeve gently, felt solid muscle underneath.

“Aww, Dante dear. I am…” She started warmly. Adding, her voice a teasing whisper. “…just came about some extra of my own, is all.”

Leaden motherfucker, almost broke me back, hauling it.