Part 3 Chapter 4

CHAPTER 20

 

 

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oira listens to it all from Bevil’s bedroom. At first she can barely hear anything but once she thinks Sertia and Bevil won’t hear she quietly opens Bevil’s bedroom door. She hears what definitely sounds like movement from a single person; it could be Sertia as she tries to get into a more comfortable position to show as much or as little of herself as she want. Or it could be Bevil nervously going back and forth trying not to let Sertia get to him. Moira hears Sertia’s constant questioning in that sultry sexy voice about Moira and Bevil and what they are planning (planning?), and about Olraym and him going to Burden. She hears Bevil’s stuttered replies to them (some truth but mostly lies).

  In Moira’s opinion Bevil is doing well keeping himself in control, giving what she feels is good answers to Sertia despite what she is doing. But she cannot see what exactly Sertia is doing and has no idea how long Sertia may grill him for answers or how long Bevil may last.

  By the end when Sertia finally leaves just moments before Bevil is about to relent Moira feels like throwing up, she knows the way Sertia sometimes is with people, she knows about her affair with her maiden Kaila, but she never knew it to be like this.

  She leaves the bedroom and re-enters the sitting room where she finds Bevil sweating and almost out of breath. Sertia certainly knows what buttons to push.

  Bevil, for Moira’s benefit, repeats all of what both he and Sertia said, minus the sexy comes-ons to get Bevil riled up. While Sertia left with some information Bevil and Moira still know more and therefore are ahead. But all this still begs the question of why and what. Why is Sertia doing this? And what is her end game?

  Moira leaves Bevil to recuperate comes to the conclusion that the only way to know the answers to these questions is to confront Sertia, the sooner the better. But she cannot just go up to Sertia asking questions of her own. No, Sertia might tell some big lie with a little truth mixed in just as Bevil has done. But she cannot go looking for more about what Sertia is doing in case she finds or worse gets what she wants (whatever that is) before Moira can stop her. She has to find a way of confronting her where lying to Moira or anyone else is against her best interests.

  Halfway between Bevil’s house and her own an answer to this comes to her but she immediately rejects and almost hits herself for thinking it.

  In the lowest level of the dungeons is a single cell known as the Highguard Cell. It is slightly wider than all the others but is less hospitable. There isn’t so much a bed as just an old pillow and a torn up mattress. The walls are a dirty brown that are faded in some areas giving it a look as if someone literally wiped dirt and mud all over them, and they are thicker than other cell walls, no one will hear screaming coming from that cell. 

  The dungeon guards are actually ordered to hurt and abuse in any way the prisoners in that cell. Men sent there are beaten regularly by a lone guard or a group of three or four for at least an hour, and the women are the same but in smaller groups for about twenty minutes. Unless they are raped by the guards, then the groups are large and the length of time is doubled.

  The reason this cell is so much worse than all the others is that it is reserved for those who have committed what is believed to be the worst of crimes: royals who have betrayed Tov’ra and the Highlands.

  ‘How can I think of this? She hasn’t committed that big a sin has she?’ As far as Moira can tell Sertia hasn’t committed any kind of sin, not as far as she knows anyway. But even if she hasn’t it still might shock enough to talk.

  Without realising it she has made it back to the castle entrance with the door already open for her. She rushes inside; once there she thinks of her dilemma some more but then quickly makes a decision. One she hopes she will not regret.

 

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Olraym opens his eyes and sees darkness, he looks around but still the darkness persists. He forgets where he is and moves around. He feels soft covers on top and an equally soft mattress under him. More importantly, he feels naked. Not metaphorical sense but in a most literal sense. As he moves his feet the soft mattress ends but the soft cover seems to go on for a while longer.

  “Good, you’re awake.”

  That voice stops him. A female voice, she sounds indifferent. Trugaime…it is Trugaime, coming from across the room. Olraym stops and lets his mind come back to him, lets his eyes adjust.

  He is still in the rented room of The Weeping Child, still in Burden. Once adjusted, Trugaime appears fully dressed standing at the window looking solemnly out of it. Olraym sits on the bed with his legs on the floor and the covers around him as he dresses; he doesn’t feel her eyes on him but gets dressed fast. 

  Olraym gets on his feet and joins Trugaime at the window. Burden is different at night. The stark moonlight tempered by the occasional burning torch in the distance creates a maze of shadows and silhouettes. There is some activity just outside The Weeping Child, small groups or loners walking passed looking in every direction, waiting for someone they don’t want to see, to come and do something they don’t want to happen to them. Olraym cannot get a good descriptive look at whoever he sees but that doesn’t bother him, as long as he doesn’t need to know who they are. The two hear sounds: shouting from a distance, a scream piercing the air. Burden’s true colours come out at night.

  The two leave The Weeping Child side-by-side, seeing no one, not even the barman/manager that gave them the room key.

  Instead of going for their horses they decide to go by foot, they chose the opposite direction of the shouts and screams. But that doesn’t stop them from seeing other people in the shadows doing business of the illegal (or in one case improper) sort, sometimes they see members of the city guard. To someone unfamiliar to Burden it would seem these city guards doing their jobs and keeping watch for criminals, but actually they are doing the opposite. Whenever they do see others they speed up for a few seconds until they are sure they aren’t being followed then resume as normal.

  “Who knows where the Starlight Cult is?” Olraym asks, getting right down to business. It’s not out of a need to test her, more a need to get out of Burden quickly. Part of him wants to be in Divinwood soon but another part doesn’t given what he saw in his dreams.

  “No one,” Trugaime states matter of fact. Olraym isn’t sure if she is lying.

  “You’re lying, someone does,” he decides to push her get an answer.

  She becomes agitated and aggressive. She looks as if she is about to hit him. But something holds her back. He watches as her aggression washes away from her face, she now looks solemn almost resigned.

  “If you find them what then, kill them all?”

  “Not my first thought, but I will if I have to.”

  In truth Olraym knows that he will never be able to do that, not even with Trugaime’s help. He has to find another way and hope for the best.

  Trugaime seems to know this aw well because she suddenly grabs Olraym by the arm and leads him down a pitch black alley. She stops at the other end of the alley just as the moonlight shines on them again.

  “Fine I know who can help you,” Olraym notices that she said ‘you’ and not ‘us’, this makes it difficult for him to trust her. “He knows where the Cult is and everyone in it.”

  Olraym resumes walking, not really anywhere in particular, just he doesn’t want to stay in one place too long. Trugaime catches up and matches his speed. They take several turns at random intervals, looking back if they hear something but not stopping.

  They soon enter a section of dilapidated stone one-storey houses lined in a neat row. The yellowish brown roofs are made from straw and hay and seem to be falling apart in small patches. The structures look steady enough but small, barely enough to fit a family of three, Olraym doesn’t want to know how many are actually living in each house. This area is basically an assault on the senses. The sight of these houses, the smell of the waste left behind without care by what Olraym hopes to be animals, the unnerving silence that is broken by their footfalls on the muck. Olraym can’t wait to get out of this place.

  At least two have dim fiery lights coming from them; someone is still awake in them. Olraym doesn’t look in as they pass them but knows that whoever is in there is awake out of fear. Fear of what might happen to them or whoever they are with. Olraym imagines those inside looking out and ducking away from the widows at seeing Olraym and Trugaime and thinking they are thieves or killers that might try to get inside.

  “Who is this person?” he asks, wanting to forget about these houses, if they can be called that.

  “He won’t talk to you, or me. Not without something in return, something big.”

  “Who is it?” he asks again, not responding to her reply, but he hears it. It must be someone important, in Burden terms anyway.

  “…Morcale Warson.”

  Olraym has heard of him, everyone has, even in Jehlaan. He is ruthless, cunning and is known to be the ruler of Burden despite what others say. Documents may have names of people to say they rule the city but all goes through Morcale. He has his hands in everyone’s coin pouch and on everyone’s throat. His spies are everywhere, some think he has spies in Tov’ra but no one has gotten proof.

  He lives in a castle furthest from the city’s entrance, but the guards watching the entrance tell him of all who enter and exit. Which means Morcale knows that he and Trugaime are in Burden and probably know they are staying in The Weeping Child.

  “How do I get in touch with him?”

  She is silent, on purpose or because she is thinking Olraym cannot tell. Her face gives nothing away.

  “Well…?”

  “I’m thinking!”

  That answers him. Though he would never say, he thought she might lie to him.

  She thinks for a time then grabs his hand again and takes him through several streets all similar to this one. While these too assault him his feels better that, since they are moving through it fast, it doesn’t last long.

  They then stop again just outside a small tavern, a sign painted on the window says ‘The Black Spot’. Olraym looks around, hoping they are not being followed and sees that the area just left of the tavern is different to what he has seen before. From what he can see the street looks clean and empty of wanderers. The buildings closest to them look fancy and colourful, almost extravagant. Olraym can guess that this section is for those in a higher standing than the rest, the ones doing the bribing and killing. The ones like Morcale.

  Trugaime enters the tavern with Olraym a step behind. Inside it looks like a fancier version of the opening area of ‘The Weeping Child’ except there is no stairs leading upwards and everything looks better, cleaner, and fresher. Even the customers look like a better type of people. 

  They get a few quick glances as they enter but other than that no one gives them any attention. They find an empty square table and sit. No one comes to ask them if they need a drink and they don’t do or say anything attention worthy to get one.

  Trugaime then gestures to a man sitting alone, staring out at nothing with dagger eyes, but something in them tells Olraym that he is noticing all around him. He has short black hair and a thin well-trimmed beard. His clothes are the same colour; it tugs at him like a second skin, lined with silver trimmings.

  “That man knows how to get in touch with Morcale.”

  “How do you know him?”

  She looks away, as if embarrassed, “we’ve met a couple of times.”

  Realising what she means Olraym almost laughs but holds it in. Trugaime glares daggers at him, her glare scarier to Olraym than the man’s one, partly because this one is directed at him.

  “I’m guessing he won’t just tell us how to get in touch with Morcale.”

  Trugaime doesn’t answer; she stares at the man thinking. Then suddenly she stands and walks to him, once he sees her approaching he looks surprised. She sits next to him and the two start talking, Olraym cannot tell what they are saying but it seems to be going good. He is smiling and at times so is she. At one point she touches his arm affectionately, while to Trugaime it appears to be nothing special but to Olraym and the man she is talking to it is important. The man’s smile disappears and he looks serious. He takes her hand and holds it gently in both of his.

  Olraym doesn’t want to witness this but cannot turn away. Though still unsure of his feelings towards Trugaime he knows that something like this will make things worse. When they start leaning in closer he finally has seen enough and turns around.

  About ten minutes later, Olraym almost bursting just to turn around again to see what is going on, Trugaime returns to their table and sits back down. Olraym wants to ask right away what happened but is just able to control himself. She is wearing a smile; she obviously enjoyed her time with the man, ‘it could be a fake’ he tells himself.

  “We’re in.”

  This makes him happy but he wants to ask what she and that man said to each other.

  “When do we meet him?”

  “We don’t, at least not Morcale.”

  “If it isn’t Morcale then who are we meeting?”

  “One of his representatives I think.”

  “Okay…when do we meet this representative?”

  “He said tomorrow at noon, at The Weeping Child.” She points to where the man sat but he is no longer there.

  Olraym nods and the two are silent for a time. They glance at each other a few times but then one looks away.

  “So-”

  “What did you two talk about?” he interrupts her, it comes out more intense than intended, but it is out there now, nothing he can do about it.

  She looks at him as if offended, “what business is that of yours?” ‘How dare he asks me that!’ she is about to get up off the chair and leave, she grabs the chair by the arm rest with both hands, but she doesn’t she stops herself and decides to answer him. “We talked of old times.”

  “Like when you two were together.”

  “Yes, why are you so mad about that?”

  Olraym realises she is right, he is mad, but doesn’t want to be. He just feels this way. He feels this way because…because, he wants her. This thought doesn’t come as a big shock, part of him has felt it since she let down her hood and told him her name. He has fought that side of him but now that battle within him has been won. Trouble is he isn’t sure if she feels the same; she might not and do or say something really bad if he ever tells her.

  His thoughts are suddenly broken by her voice; she is asking him ‘why’ again. It is loud but not enough to attract the people around them. He looks back at her, to see she is looking at him with curiosity and spite. He doesn’t know what he should do to get out of this, or even if he can get out of this.

  “I’m not mad!” he says, acting all innocent like he doesn’t know what she is talking about.

  “Yes you are!” she retorts, she is having none of his act.

  “Look we need to concentrate on Morcale.”

  “Why do you need one?”

  “You brought it up. You got mad about me talking with someone I used to be with.”

  “You mean one you used to bed.”

  “Bed them, what are you eight?”

  Olraym looks away, red in the cheeks embarrassed.

  “What’s the difference anyway?”

  He has no answer, he spreads his arms in a kind of shrug the quickly stands, the chair scraping across the floor, and leaves the tavern. The scraping from the chair and the slamming of the door attract attention but by this time Olraym doesn’t care. Trugaime watches him leave, surprised by his actions. After she hesitates for a beat she gets up and leaves with him. As she gets outside and the tavern door closes behind her she looks around for Olraym, he is still walking away, she runs to catch him. When she does he doesn’t stop or look at her. She stays with but cannot stop thinking of what he said in the tavern, what he did. She wonders what he was thinking in there, what is he thinking now?

 

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When Olraym had asked that question Trugaime didn’t know what to think. Where did this question come from? Is he angry at her or someone else? Is he worried? Should she be worried?

  For some time she has sensed something between them and she believes he senses it too. But neither has acted upon it. She first thought it would go away within a few days, but it hasn’t, in fact the thoughts and feeling have increased. When she rushes out of the tavern to find him she realises he does feel the same way and he is jealous of the way she was inside with the other man. But he must realise it was all fake, she wanted information and though she may not be a w***e she knows how to get a man talking.

  She decides to wait until Olraym is calm again before telling him this. Better wait until he isn’t angry, though with him being angry at her it is making her angry at him.

  The two head back to ‘The Weeping Child’, not to sleep again just to wait until they can meet with Morcale’s representative. Olraym purposely keeping some distance between them. They aren’t tired but they don’t have anything to do but wait and they have no desire to explore any more of Burden than they have to. They meet others still wondering around, their walk looks resolute, despite their fearful expressions, they are going somewhere important fast. Trugaime pays them no attention, Olraym is the important thing.