《Terminia : Cults and Courtesans》42. The Women He Knows (Part 1)
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If you are to find this letter,
find this tome in which it lies.
Then I beg of you to read on.
-Note within the hidden journal.
Vallerian called back into the small Southshore home as he attempted to slink out, saying anything and everything that came to mind that would get him out of there. He let his words slowly fade away as he closed the door behind him. Resting his back now against the closed wooden door, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Finally free.” He whispered to himself.
With the effort he had gone through to get back into Gardinal's home, he almost felt it odd that he was so desperate to get out now. Or he would have been, had it not been for the past three days spent with those nattering, giggling girls. Even now their whispers and giggles haunted him. With Gardinal going off to do the gods know what again, Vallerian figured now would be a good time to sneak off as quickly as possible. Besides, after that little conversation with Arabella, he had some business to take care of. He pushed off from the door and ventured into Southshore.
Sauntering down the mud-covered street, Vallerian shook his head. Had those foolish girls really all trounced down to the Red Curtains to find a slum lord? What were they thinking? Of course, when he had started lecturing them on how bad of an idea that had been, Celeste had completely ignored him. Ever since Gardinal had left, that girl and Kriss had done nothing but look at each other awkwardly and blush.
Vallerian pinched the bridge of his nose, he had been trying to reunite old friends, not play matchmaker with a representative of the divine. Vallerian could only imagine what Gardinal would do to him if that lad did anything foolish with Celeste. A problem for another time, he decided.
Now, once again, it was up to Vallerian to clean up the mess left in the Prophetess's wake. Valleresa had assured him that their conversation with Tabitha had gone well. Though he trusted her opinion about as much as he trusted her to keep Celeste out of trouble. He remembered how badly she had failed as a child simply convincing the kitchen maids to give her a pastry. That was her problem, always asking. He had simply swiped the pastries while Valleresa had failed at asking. Still, he thought, he did not believe her that the negotiations with that tiny tyrant had gone well. Tabitha had likely tricked the girls into getting what she had wanted. That all left him here, sneaking out against Gardinal’s most grumpy wishes, to clean up their mess.
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Well, that and make sure that his mother-in-law’s orders were met. Now that he was back in Celeste’s favour, he could go get Tabitha’s support for the girl. Well, that and get some dirt on the devious little Jöln. After a simple little endeavour like ingratiating himself to a man-hating slum lord, he could finally return home with a slightly smaller chance of getting stabbed in the throat as he slept. Maybe he'd even get to bathe, now wouldn't that be nice. Vallerian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose until it hurt. What had he done to deserve this? No, wait, he didn't want to think about that. Ignoring those memories, he began the long trek to the Red Curtains. Again.
The rain was only a light sprinkle now, a few straggling clouds still hung in the sky as though they just couldn't work up the effort to float off. Looking up at them, he whistled loudly. Lazy birds didn't get to rest while he did all the hard work. In moments, Charlotte came swooping down to rest on his shoulder.
“Any good hunting out there?” He asked. Charlotte cawed back. “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” At least it was nice to have her back on his shoulder, his only friend's presence proved a comfort. He rubbed under the falcon’s gilded beak and she let out a low, satisfied caw.
Vallerian walked down the cramped street for some time. The thick soupy mud had made a mess of the walkways. Old carts were littered across half the streets, too stuck to be worth pulling free. A thousand muddy footprints made pockmarks in the mud, and Vallerian tried to stick to the most well packed areas to avoid ruining his boots too much. He was quite fond of this pair.
As he made his way through Southshore, he kept his eye out for the people. All sorts made the slums of his fair city their home, and Vallerian observed them all with equal concern. Leaning against a half submerged-in-mud barrel sat a boil covered beggar, his cupped-hand held out with only a pair of dirty copper coins in residence. Across from the man sat a scrawny Fershya, his gaunt face half concealed by a frayed linen cloak. The hooded man eyed the beggar’s coins hungrily, likely waiting to run across and steal them from the wretch of a man. It reminded Vallerian of a hungry wolf, watching an emaciated deer trying to drink water from a barely trickling stream. The wilds of Southshore may not look the same as the woods, but they acted remarkably similar.
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Leaving the two beasts to their stand off, Vallerian heard a familiar sound. A short whistle followed by two tongue clicks. He responded in turn, then tapped his left thigh. Before long, a little girl appeared behind him. The kid couldn’t have been more than four or five, but she kept a good distance and didn’t look right at Vallerian as she spoke.
“I got some in for motion.” The kid spoke a tad bit too loudly. “I do got good in for motion I do.”
Vallerian rolled his eyes. “The word is information, not... whatever it is you said. Besides, where’s the other girl? I only deal with her.” Vallerian responded.
“She’s clean, just getting her eyes on those robed ones.” The kid rubbed her runny nose as she spoke. Good, Vallerian thought, clean to these kids meant healthy and safe. The other part, he assumed, meant she was keeping an eye on the cult for him.
That girl had turned out to be a great help, and she had even gotten her friends in on it. Once he had purchased a small structure nearby the wall for them to live in, that was. He was still looking for a caretaker to look after the place. He could only imagine how disgusting it would already be in there with just a bunch of kids looking after the place for a week now. He had tried to poach Gardinal's old Jöln one, now that Arabella did most of the work in that home. But he had cursed Vallerian out when he mentioned kids. Who wouldn't love to be surrounded by a bunch of dirty little ingrates day in and day out?
“What you got for me then, girl?” Vallerian asked, dispelling the image of the angry Jöln.
“A hungry belly.” She responded. Vallerian stopped, turned, and looked at the her. He was not about to get sassed and shaken down by some dirty urchin.
“Look, I give her food when I have some. Do I look like I have anything on me? But I always give coin. You should know that.” They stared at each other for a moment, and Vallerian felt several eyes turn to him as they did so. Damned Southshore people, if there noses were a tiny bit longer they'd be poking into his arse.
“Coin don’t taste no good.” She stomped her foot into the ground.
“Dammit girl, tell me what you know and I'll buy you some food.” Vallerian would have to talk to the other girl about only sending the older kids to talk to him. He liked young kids well enough, but only when there was a nanny to hand them back to.
“You told Heretta who told Tem, who said to Yano who told…”
“Kid, this wasn’t funny when the other girl did it and it’s not funny when you do it. Just tell me what you have.”
“The Jöln is bein at the place with the red curtains. Where the nice ladies let us sit in the cold days.” The kid finally told him, and Vallerian nodded in understanding. Tabitha seemed to have a habit of spending time at the Red Curtains. That meant her tower was more for show than for business then. Made sense, the creaking monstrosity would be a nightmare to climb for her little Jöln legs.
Vallerian bought the girl a Fershya meat pie off a shady street vendor. The thing was stale and had likely been sitting in the man’s cart for three days, but she seemed to enjoy it.
“If you hear anything else about the scary people with silver pins, you let me know, okay?” Vallerian told the kid, handing her coins. She attempted some semblance of a response, but a mouth full of stale meat pie made it unintelligible. These street kids and talking with their mouths full, he shook his head. After Vallerian dismissed her, the kid was off as quickly as she had come. Watching her run off, squeezing through a crack in a fence to disappear, Vallerian figured he'd better disappear as well. Too many eyes, and he didn't know which belonged to Tabitha or the Cult these days.
Vallerian brought his own stale meat pie to his lips, but Charlotte nipped it away before he could have a bite.
“Why is it I never get to eat?” He asked the bird. She just swallowed his lunch and cawed at him.
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