Unforgivable Page 11

  “You’re not really in any position to be demanding anything.” He replied, arrogance giving his voice a smug edge.

  Sofia spotted the shift in his eyes and her dagger snapped out of its sheath, the tip of the curved blade stopping just short of slashing open the man’s jugular that had come up behind her. “Drop the knife or I’ll send you to whatever god you care to believe in!” Her voice was deadly calm. The man dropped his blade to the floor, his hands slowly rising out in defeat.

  Sofia’s eyes went back to the youth on the stairs, “give me my pouch or your friend here dies and you will follow him shortly after.”

  Cold steel touched her neck. “If you kill my brother, I will have to kill you.” Another thick accented voice said from behind her. “Now drop the blade sweetheart.”

  “I just want what’s mine.” Sofia replied her voice losing its edge as her own weapon clattered to the floor.

  “And we just want your money and anything else of value you might have.” The man on her right said the strange accent the same as the others. “Good work Spitz.”

  The young man on the stairwell grinned. “She was an easy mark Boldo… followed like a mouse to cheese.”

  “Now you can just give us your valuables, or I can search you and take them, ”the man with the knife to her throat said.

  Boldo stepped in front of her, a goofy grin spread across his face, as he pulled on the fetishes that were weaved into his long goatee. “I wouldn’t mind searching her Zindelo.”

  Sofia felt the blade weaken at her throat, as Zindelo laughed at his brother’s mirth. Her hand shot up and gripped his wrist, as her elbow connected with his jaw and sent him staggering him backward. Sofia’s foot snapped up into Boldo’s groin before he could react - his eyes bulged in surprised agony as he fell to his knees, gripping his manhood. She turned back just in time to avoid a wild thrust from Zindelo.

  “You’re gonna pay for that.” Zindelo growled, wiping the trickle of blood from his chin. He set himself into a rhythmic dance on his toes, as he began circling Sofia, as his well-used knife hungrily waiting within his hand. His dark, long thinly braided hair adorned with beaded fetishes swayed across his shoulders with each of his fluid movements.

  Sofia snatched her twin blades from beneath her cloak and began following him, trying to anticipate his next strike. She could tell just from his swift, effortless movements that he was a well-versed knife fighter and her odds were slim even if she was not exhausted.

  With an explosion of speed, he came at her slashing and thrusting, forcing her to step back quickly. She knew none of the attacks were meant to do anything more than to find a weakness in her defence, though she was sure he could have landed a blow several times by now. His speed was uncanny and her weary, strained eyes could hardly keep up as she lost more and more ground.

  Two quick slashes opened a duo of minor wounds across her forearm, almost causing her to drop her blade. He saw the slip and lunged forward his dagger aimed for her midsection. Sofia dropped herself into a tucked backwards roll; her foot kicked up and caught his extended wrist. His dagger flew out of his hand, as he recoiled in sudden pain. She finished the roll and was back on her feet - coming forward - her own blade slashing viciously looking for any flesh it might find. Her opponent was now the one forced to relent.

  Sofia reversed a thrust into a downward slash cutting a deep wound into Zindelo’s thigh. His fist connected with her jaw, she stumbled back and he was quick to follow, ignoring his wounded leg. She swung her dagger up wildly and the tip bit into his chin as he threw his head back to avoid the near deadly strike. Sofia kicked and her boot landed deep within his gut, a blow that sent him lurching forward, nearly doubling over. She lifted her blade for the final strike when her body jarred to the side as something caught her cloak, pulling her, and her balance was lost. Her shoulder crashed into the wooden beam and the awkward tug of her cloak prevented her from catching herself before she plummeted to the floor. She struggled to untangle herself from it, finally seeing the bolt that pinned the ragged material to the beam. The soft click of a crossbow being reloaded whispered through the old house.

  “The next bolt will end your life if you keep moving stranger.” A firm, commanding voice called down and Sofia stilled.

  All eyes went to the top of the stairwell to the tall, broad shouldered man who stood there. His posture and stern gaze were more than enough to prove that he was a leader. He held the crossbow with ease, as he stepped down passed where Spitz stood wide-eyed and nervous at the scene that had just played out, with him as a major actor.

  “Boldo, get up you fool.” Talamar said with a roll of his eyes. “It looks like she thought you needed a shave Zindelo.” He grinned, eyeing the small cut. “Had I not shown up she might had taken your whole head.”

  Zindelo grimaced as he wiped the blood from his chin. “You have my many thanks uncle.”

  “Now what do we have here?” Talamar mused as he looked over to Sofia his free hand running down the length of his dark tightly braided goatee. “What is all this excitement over?”

  “I...I took this from her, she seems to really want it back.” Spitz stuttered tossing Talamar the leather pouch. “She was trying to find more of it in Fiddler’s Market.”

  Talamar opened the pouch and peered inside then pulled the draw string tight once more, his slick black brows rising. “All this over the scrapings of some dried up Valerian? Here I was expecting diamonds, rubies…or gold and silver, but this hardly seems worth pulling a blade over.”

  “Then just give it back and I will gladly be on my way.” Sofia sneered from the floor.

  “Zindelo retrieve your knife and let us be gone.” Talamar tucked the pouch within the front pocket of his aged black leather vest.

  Zindelo leaned down in front of Sofia to recover his lost knife when her leg shot out from beneath her cloak and swept his feet out from under him. He crashed onto his back the air escaping his lungs. Sofia grabbed a fistful of his long braided hair and hauled him closer, her curved blade resting against his exposed throat. “You will let me go with what’s mine or I swear to you your nephew with accompany me to the other side!”

  Talamar lowered his crossbow, knowing not enough of the girl was exposed to get a sure shot without risking Zindelo. He studied her for several long moments his intrigue building. “You’ve made your point girl…you’ve made your point.”

  Sofia reached over with her free hand and pulled her cloak from the bolt that held it. Slowly, she rose to her feet, being sure to keep Zindelo under control with the pressure of her blade as a constant reminder of the consequences of his lack of full obedience. “Now put your crossbow and my pouch on the floor and back away!”

  Talamar smiled shaking his head. “Afraid that’s not going to happen - how about a fair trade instead?” He could see her exhausted state - her eyes were travel worn and bloodshot, he doubted she had slept in days. “You let my dim witted nephew go and I’ll take you to where you can get more of this?” He held her pouch out.

  Sofia held her blade firmly as she slowly shuffled to where her other blade lay. “How can I be sure I can trust you?”

  “You can’t,” Talamar shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “The way I see it is you willing risked your life for this meagre scrap of herb, so you clearly have nothing to lose. I merely offer to spare my own ears the wretched tone and verbal lashing my darling sister will surely give me, if I allow her son to die here.”

  “Uncle!” Zindelo cried out his eyes widening at the mention of his own death.

  “Silence! Had you half the sense of a flattened slug you wouldn’t be in this mess and I wouldn’t have to bother bartering for your damnable hide.” Talamar shot back coolly.

  “And if I refuse your offer?”

  Talamar frowned slightly. “Then I am afraid you will have to stain your fine blade with the blood of my unworthy nephew and I will have to retrieve this bolt from your stilled chest.”

  Her better judgement t
old her to find another way out of this, yet her mind refused to work out a better solution. “I was told Valerian was prohibited within Faer-Tri.”

  “Many things are. That doesn’t mean they aren’t still available to those who know where to find them. That is one of the many joys of Gypsy Alley.” He smiled. “Do we have an agreement?”

  Unforgivable II

  Part Four

  A Deal With A Gypsy

  Sofia followed the four gypsies hesitantly through several rundown buildings and cluttered alleyways - she could feel many unseen eyes upon her. One hand always rested near the worn bone hilt of her daggers in case trickery was afoot. She did not know much about gypsies - only random rumours and stories she had heard as she and her father had fled through Faer-Tri years ago. They had often been mistaken or accused of being such, and had on several occasions had to defend themselves because of it. One thing that was always consistent with the stories, gypsies were never to be trusted.

  Sofia stumbled on weary legs and had to use the ledge of a dirty windowsill to catch herself. She looked up and stopped on her reflection but before she could turn away her it began to distort as if fire was flaking away the flesh. A bright blue eyed, redheaded woman stared back at her, petrified tears streaming down her cheeks as she mouthed the words ‘please don’t’. Then, her eyes turned lifeless and the unseen fire began peeling away her flesh once more.

  “Are you alright?” Zindelo asked, as he and the other gypsies had stopped to regard her.

  Sofia pushed herself from the window and shook her head clear of the vivid apparition. “I am fine, nothing of concern to you.”

  They entered a gloomy courtyard; a large broken winged angel fountain rested within the middle. It had long since dried up and no life-giving waters spewed from it. Shanty homes with crumbling foundations, boarded windows and ruined sidings rimmed its edge. The area looked like the ruins of a war-ravaged town, yet several groups of gypsies milled about and all eyes were upon her…some curious, others hateful.

  “Welcome to Gypsy Alley.” Talamar gestured his arms out for her to take in it all. “Mind you we hold so much more than just an alleyway after all these years. Zindelo, Spitz, enjoy the rest of the day. Boldo, outsider - come with me.”

  They walked down a narrow, rain-cracked pathway between two larger houses and descended a slanted stone staircase into a basement entranceway. Once inside, the heavy smell of herbs, spices and other intoxicating scents filled Sofia’s nose nearly overwhelming proportions.

  They moved through the dusty room, having to duck and manoeuvre around dry hanging roots and plants of all assortments.

  “Harman,” Talamar called out and there was the sound of movement within the back of the room. “Where in the devil are you man?”

  “Who’s here now?” coughed an old, short, stocky man who pushed past a tangle of hanging roots covering a back doorway. “Talamar, my good fellow, what brings you to my fine establishment?” Harman asked scratching at his balding head. Suddenly, they both shared a laughed at the mirth of his statement. Sofia looked on confused, and tired. She was swaying on her feet now, working hard to stay upright.

  “If this is what you call a fine establishment you and I have two different tastes my friend.” Talamar teased in replied.

  Harman’s eyes shifted over Talamar’s shoulder and rested on Sofia dour features beneath the worn-out crimson cloak. “Who’s the outsider bitch?”

  “Now Harman, that really is no way to talk about a guest. More so, as she is standing right there.” Talamar replied suppressing his grin.

  “Who’s the outsider Talamar?” Harman replied sternly, his gaze hard. “And why have you brought her to my place? You know how I feel about outsiders.”

  “She is looking for Valerian and cannot seem to find any anywhere else.”

  The short old gypsy herbalist’s gaze turned back to Sofia. “Take off that damned hood and let me look at you.” Sofia slowly pulled the hood back and Harman leaned closer as he inspected her, his eyes searching deep into hers. “You are running from something,” he mused, “something dark.”

  There was an eerie sense to this man that she did not like. “Do you have any or not?” Sofia replied coldly not wishing to play head games with this man.

  Harman grinned revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. “Ay, I have Valerian, as much as you may need, but prohibited things do not come cheap…at least not to outsiders.”

  Sofia reached into her cotton shirt and pulled out a small coin purse and tossed it onto the counter. “I will take whatever that will buy me.”

  The gypsy opened the purse and his laughter came out in a cackling gasps which quickly turned into coughing as he dropped the coins to the wooden countertop. “Half a silver and three copper? Get out of my sight!” he turned back to go into the backroom from which he had emerged.

  Sofia nearly lunged herself at the counter. “I need it!” She knew her voice dripped with desperation but she couldn’t help herself, she could not succumb to the nightmares again. The very thought of having to endure such a thing for the rest of her life sent a quiver of terrifying fear up her spine.

  “I think I may have a suitable solution.” Talamar interjected waving Harman back to the counter. “How much coin does she need to fill that leather pouch at her belt?”

  “Seven full silver...and I am being generous because you brought her here Talamar.”

  Talamar whistled. “Pricey stuff - sure glad I don’t use it.” He pulled at his goatee. “But, as it turns out, someone owes me money yet has not paid. I have been more than generous in allotting extra time for him to come up with the coin and yet he still does not reimburse me.”

  “I will not be your lapdog gypsy.” Sofia snarled.

  Talamar shrugged. “Then I will have you escorted out of our territory. Boldo take this outsider bitch back to where we found her, if she is seen within our borders again, kill her.” He turned to walk out of Harman’s shop.

  “Where is this man?” Sofia asked trying to keep her voice hard, yet she knew she reeked of desperation.

  Talamar suppressed his grin and turned back to her. “Boldo knows of who I speak - he will escort you there and back here to collect when the job is complete.”

  Sofia glanced over to Boldo who did not look impressed by this at all. “I do this for you and you fill my pouch with Valerian and we part ways, no deceit?”

  “Of course,” Talamar replied, as if offended.

  “And if he does not have the money? Or will not hand over the coin?”

  “I know for a fact that he does, my sources tell me he is to buy a large shipment of goods this very evening with the very coin he should be repaying to me.” Talamar explained. “I trust you will be able to figure a suitable way to sway his decision.”

  Sofia turned to Boldo. “Lead the way and let’s get this over with.” She knew this had to be done quickly, she doubt she would be able to fight off sleep for much longer.

  “Something dark truly haunts that one within the shadows of her mind.” Harman said after Boldo and Sofia had left. “It is why she is using Valerian to try and repress it.”

  “I too sensed that.” Talamar replied with a grin. “I hope to profit from it a while, without having to dirty our own hands much.” He stared at the doorway fidgeting with his dark goatee.

  Herman bore into Talamar’s eyes with all seriousness. “That one is dangerous on many levels that I do not think she is even aware of. Do not tangle yourself too deeply with that outsider Talamar, we have much on our plate as is with the Merchant’s Guild.” Harman cautioned, as he went back to work.

  Sofia blinked back the dizzy haze that had impeded her sight for most of the walk and pushed opened the dirty pine door. The rust on the hinges made a loud squeal, which did well to inform the owner of any new customers who entered his cluttered shop. Sofia barely noticed the cheap wares that lined the racks and shelves as she went straight for the counter. Boldo kept a decent distance behind her to watch
the doorway.

  “Greetings.” The chubby, wispy haired shopkeeper beamed at seeing a customer. “How is it that I can help you today? A new cloak perhaps?”

  “I am not here to buy anything - I am here to collect what you owe Talamar.” Sofia growled to the man and knew by the sudden change in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

  The shopkeeper’s eyes shifted over to Boldo and then back to Sofia. “I already told him he will have to wait just a few more days…please. I have a deal in the works and will have his money once the deal is finished.” This came out in a nervous, weedy stammer. “I just need a little more time - I promise I will have what I owe him very soon.”

  “Cut the act, I am in no mood for any of this. I know you have his payment.” Sofia snapped, her mood darkening, but she needed the Valerian. Her chest tightened at the thought of failing this simple task. “Hand it over and you will never see me again. If you choose to play this foolish game with me I will cut the payment from your damnable flesh!”

  “Sweet mother of the gods, I swear to you I don’t have his money yet!” The man bellowed out, his eyes glistening with wet fear. “But I will, I swear it! Every last copper… soon.”

  “I am done with this,” Sofia drew one of her curved daggers and went around the counter, “last chance.”

  The shop keeper quickly back stepped at seeing the deadly blade and violence in Sofia’s eyes. “Okay okay! You win! I will get you the money, just please don’t hurt me!” The chunky man moved a wall hanging aside, revealing a hidden shelf. He reached in to retrieve the coin box within.

  Sofia fought back bitter waves of fatigue as she kept reminding herself that soon she would be able to succumb to sweet dreamless sleep. A flash of light caught her eyes and the swift movements of the shopkeeper forced her instincts to act unconsciously. Sofia slammed her blade into the shopkeeper’s back, her free hand quickly covering his mouth to muffle the scream that would have escaped his thin lips. She spotted the short knife that rested on the shelf as she wrenched her blade free. The man slumped to his knees, the clatter of coins spilling from the box ringing out in a rhythmic melody.