(STORY)
from: CHAPTER FOUR: LADROA OVERTURE CHAPTER EIGHT: LADROA ELEGY
characters: Jenyeva (POV), Kian, Belasca, The Cats
This story begins shortly after the party first arrives in Ladroa and takes up residence in the Grey Lodge, and continues through to the events following the return to Ladroa from Aesos, the Tribunal of Judex, and Kian Grey's arrest...
LIFE, LOVE, and LOSS in LADROA
1.
Jenyeva bit the inside of her cheek. It was her last uncontrolled sign of disappointment. Her old mentor had told her over and over that ‘practice makes perfect’... and she had almost perfected rejection. “Leave” Yasifa repeated. Jenyeva swallowed and retreated back up the crumbling stairs to the roof. Having only recently arrived in Ladroa, she didn’t know exactly where she was, and had absolutely no idea where to go next, but ultimately that didn’t matter; she just knew she wasn’t wanted here. All she wanted to do was get as far away as she could, as fast as she could, but the bright sky momentarily blinded when she emerged from the darkness inside the decrepit building the Cats squatted in. She took a moment to adjust to her predicament. She stared off in the distance, past the rooftops to the Helicosian sea shimmering under the late summer sun. A Cat they called Zantina called Jenyeva over to the edge. She was about as tall as Jenyeva, but younger, with blond hair falling in ringlets around a doll-like face. Her smile looked friendly, in stark contrast to her older, darker leader who had just rejected Jenyeva’s request to join their gang. Maybe Yasifa’s decision wasn’t final? Maybe Zantina or the others would recognize that Jenyeva, though a couple years older, was still valuable and just as vulnerable. “This is the best way down.” Zantina offered helpfully. Jenyeva sighed and made her way down, hopping ledge-to-ledge until she could drop into the a narrow alley below. The labyrinthine streets were unusually bright with the noon sun directly above, but it only served to highlight the squalor and decrepitude of the Corredors district, and did nothing to improve her mood. She may have hidden her feelings fairly well, but her stomach was churning. The all too familiar feeling of fear, loneliness and desperation which was half-way between hunger and nausea was finally giving way to simple grumbling. She didn’t have any money left. She had paid most of her coin to Jack and Lonzo to keep her safe back in Ascenzia, and had been living off the group’s largesse since arriving in Ladroa. She had come this far with them because she wasn’t safe alone and had every reason to get as far away from the Carabassi as possible. Now, for all her hardships, here in such an infamous “city of thieves” a young pickpocket wasn’t completely without resources. She went to the closest square -- this one was more triangular, but the narrow streets of the Corridors rarely came together in anything quite as uniform as a square -- and there she observed passerby until she had chosen her mark. A cheese-monger on the north corner kept a handy coffer of coins behind his cart. The sun was high in the sky and there were few shadows for her to exploit, but she also knew that sometimes it was easier to steal in plain sight. She pulled her rabbit-shaped mask down over her face and waited for a client to distract the merchant. When an old burgher started asking pointed questions about the runniness of the soft cheese, she had her window. Before she could take two steps, a figure appeared in her path. Silent and formless at first, it was as if a long shadow suddenly bloated into a human shape. She was accustomed to moving unseen, but such an act of stealth in the noonday sun startled even her. It may not have been magical, but it was preternatural.
Jenyeva’s first emotion was fear, her mind raced for an exit, but before she could act, the man tilted up the bearded, diabolical-looking mask he wore, and she recognized just who had coalesced in front of her. “Hungry?” Kian Grey asked. Jenyeva’s heart was still pounding and her eyes still darted about looking for escape. Recognition had only partially allayed her feelings of being trapped but another pressing feeling overcame her fears. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Yes'' she confessed. Kian led the way to a tavern on the eastern point of the square. An awning covered a few tables set out on the plaza, but Kian ignored this prized seating and pushed deep into the narrow common room. By the time they reached the poorly-lit recesses where Kian had chosen to sit, the entrance felt like the mouth of a tunnel. Kian ordered food and wine, and then made his pitch. In between bites, Jenyeva listened until he finished speaking. “So… you want me to rob her?” Jenyeva inferred. “No, I need you to find her , and then report back to me.” Jenyeva grabbed another roll from the basket to soak up more of the beef broth. She tore a chunk off and chewed it briefly before washing it down with a sip of wine, all the while fixing Kian with an uncertain stare. Barely two weeks had passed since she’d first met this man, sitting bedraggled and blood-spattered on the roadside near Kronaka, smoking his pipe like it was the most natural thing in the world. Even more surprisingly, Korvuus and Kuan had already seemed to know him, and trusted him enough to invite him along to Ladroa. The gruff-mannered archer had certainly proved he was capable, but he spoke little, and she still had no notion of what kind of man he truly was... or what he wanted from her now. “She’s the rightful heir to the Grey Lodge?” “Yes.” “That same place Jack claimed for himself?” “Hm. Yes.” “So are you working against him?” Jenyeva hadn’t exactly been welcomed to stay with Jack and the others, but she also felt a greater sense of loyalty to the men who'd saved her life - albeit for a fee - than to this shadowy figure who had merely offered her lunch. “No, I’m not. Not exactly, anyway. Listen, I’ve seen you operate. I think you can do this and I can pay. Unless you have something better to be doing?” She could see why he’d asked her. He was new in Ladroa, and whatever he was plotting, it seemed to go against the few people he knew. He needed someone like her: quick, quiet, and good at going unnoticed. Still, she had no illusions; he also knew how alone, vulnerable, and desperate she was. What Kian could not have known was that this was nothing new for Jenyeva. She wasn’t just another street urchin; she'd spent her younger days with a man she knew then as Samuka Borsos. She knew how confidence games worked, and she wasn’t about to repeat another of her past mistakes. ‘Practice makes perfect’. Borsos also said that the best way not to get played was to know enough about the scam to be sure it wasn’t being played on you. He had taught her that lesson only too well. Perhaps he was still teaching it, she mused. “Alright. I can do this for you, but I need to know what your angle is.” Kian seemed to pause. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He turned his head towards the innkeeper and raised a hand signaling another round. “Fine.” he relented.
2.
Finding Belasca De Cinza’s boat offshore would have been next to impossible, but by listening around and following the right people, Jenyeva heard whispers of a meeting between the Lady De Cinza and some of her remaining Grey Stripes. From there it was just a matter of guessing which pier in the Puerto she would appear at.
Crouched in the cold mist on a small, disused fisherman’s jetty, Jenyeva heard the sounds of a rowboat approaching out of the darkness. The moonlight filtering through the fog plucked out three figures debarking, a man and two women. The last one was petite, and had the distinct silhouette of a well-dressed young lady. Jenyeva reflected smugly on the young aristocrat’s lack of discretion, attired as she was in such an incongruous location. She was making ready to approach them when her blood froze. De Cinza’s bodyguard had abruptly closed the distance between them without making a sound, and now suddenly loomed before her. He wore a scarf covering his face, but blond hair tumbled out of his fur-lined hat, and his eyes were dark and alert. His hand rested on the haft of one of the many throwing-axes thrust into his sash. Jenyeva stifled a yelp, and almost fell backwards into the water. “I have a message for Lady De Cinza!” she stammered hoarsely. The lady drew nearer, flanked by a woman who looked like a maidservant, but from her movements, seemed to be a bodyguard as well. Both the women wore masks, but there was genuine curiosity in the young lady’s voice as she spoke. “She doesn’t look dangerous, Jan… let’s hear her out. This place is as private as any.” It wasn’t the way Jenyeva would have chosen to introduce herself but at least they hadn’t slit her throat for her troubles. The last person to sneak up on her like that had been Kian Grey, and she was starting to feel less confident in her abilities. She took a deep breath, and laid out Kian’s proposal. “And what assurances do I have?” the lady asked when she'd finished. “Why should I listen to this Senor Grey?” “Well, he did point you to Jack Tyrsson’s employer, Senor Di Magappi. That’s likely the only reason Jack hasn’t killed all of your people already.” Looking to De Cinza’s bodyguards, she hastily added “No disrespect.” The blond man named Jan had loosened his scarf, exposing a youthful, lean face with a faint beard. He grinned sardonically at the remark and exchanged a glance with the other bodyguard. The woman had also removed her mask, but her face was no less stern and impassive. Jenyeva thought she saw a hint of a sneer, though whether it was aimed at Jan or at her was unclear. By their accents and clothing, Jenyeva recognized both as nomads from the Koshkovian hinterlands, but the woman’s black braids, coppery skin, and curved knives marked her as an Eastern Phinska. De Cinza pursed her lips and continued. “Yes, well... from what you say, Senor Grey now seems to be suggesting I keep my distance from Di Magappi and relinquish my claim to my the Grey Lodge. And take you into my confidence. I understand the position I am in, but tell me why I should trust this man?” “I asked him the same thing, and he said that you need help. He also said that I needed help too, and so we should help each other. He said we didn’t need to trust him, we just needed to trust each other.” A flicker of surprise - and perhaps another, more-complicated emotion - passed over the young noblewoman’s face. “And the others?” “Jack and the others are dangerous if you cross them. Your men learned that lesson. But they’ve looked out for me, and they treated me fairly this whole time, even when they had little to gain from it. If you deal squarely with them, I think they will abide.” There was a long pause. The waters lapped the shore in an irregular rhythm which echoed that of Jenyeva’s heart. That was the pitch. Somehow she had bought it when she had been with Kian, but now that she was on the selling end, she wasn’t so sure. She had been here so many times, and she knew what was coming. That familiar feeling came up again in the pit of her stomach as she bit the inside of her cheek.
3.
Belasca De Cinza was much younger - only twelve or thirteen as far as Jenyeva could reckon. Of course, Jenyeva hadn’t been any older when she’d abandoned the convent to follow Samuka Borsos and the scoundrel’s lifestyle, but those four years felt like a lifetime ago. And yet, the young scion of the De Cinza line possessed a dignity and a precocious wisdom that went beyond age or breeding. Kian had told her to expect as much, but Jenyeva came to know this first-hand in the lady’s employ.
Surely, she was canny. Jenyeva had carried messages for her and accompanied her on many of her visits in the city, but De Cinza’s refuge, the ship named the Escarlata Lanza, still remained a mystery. It did exist; eavesdropping on dockside chatter, Jenyeva found that local sailors knew of the ship and its captain, a Stripes loyalist named Juanico. Yet, she had still never seen the craft, nor been invited aboard. When she met the lady at one pier or another, there was no way to be sure she had actually come from the elusive ship, and not some other location. Jenyeva respected that secrecy. Indeed, as the Ladroan summer waned, she had come to admire the younger woman’s bravery and intelligence. To her great surprise, some of that appreciation was even reciprocated. The two were not friends - De Cinza was still too guarded for that - but there were times when she sought Jenyeva’s opinion, and weighed it against her other advisors. “Do you believe this threat to be real?” Jenyeva sat opposite Belasca in the shuttered confines of a hired coach. The Phinska woman - who Jenyeva now knew was named Tzeyna - sat next to the lady, as silent and disapproving as ever. The patter of rain on the coach roof muffled the light din of the Terceto chapel district outside, but Jenyeva knew that the other bodyguard, Jan, would be keeping watch nearby. For a hunter from the sticks, he seemed no less capable in the city, and rivaled Kian’s uncanny knack for appearing and disappearing as needed. “If he says someone is planning to assassinate you before this meeting in the Bosque, then you should listen to him, milady.” “And you still trust him?” “Kian? I mean, Senor Grey... yes, I do” “Why?” Jenyeva opened her mouth and shut it again. She didn’t have a ready answer. Upon reflection she wasn’t sure why. “I guess because I know how to recognize a con, and I know what it's like to be betrayed.” Jenyeva swallowed. “When I was young, I was abandoned first by my father, and then by the thief who mentored me. But I don’t feel like Kian would do that to us.” De Cinza blinked and seemed uncomfortable. She peered at the bleak outdoors between the slats of the carriage, but she was clearly thinking of something else. Finally, she turned and gave Jenyeva a startlingly earnest stare. “Is that enough to make him a good man?” Jenyeva faltered. “Sometimes I think I’m still afraid of Kian - of what he’s capable of.” Her mind strayed to the eerie amulet and the cursed sword the rogue carried. She’d seen him use it to tear a man’s soul out of his body, and then callously sacrifice it again when it suited his needs. The thought made her shiver. She tried to reconcile it with his face when he spoke to her. There were no honeyed persuasions or misdirections, only blunt words, stubborn stoicism, and a haunted loneliness. “I’ve never seen him hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” she affirmed, as much to herself as to Belasca. “To be honest, I really don’t know if he’s a good man. But, I think...” “Please go on, Jenyeva.” “I think that he wants to be.” The young lady frowned. “And yet, he’s asked you to play my double. If he is correct about the plot against me, then he is asking you to place yourself at risk. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” Jenyeva felt warmed by Belasca’s concern, but nodded and shrugged. The young lady’s eyes narrowed as she considered the situation. “My family was betrayed. I lost my father, my brothers… everyone. Now I carry the responsibility to avenge them and redeem our legacy. I admire your faith after all you have endured, but I cannot yet trust Senor Grey as you do. I cannot afford to.” Jenyeva nodded. She could understand Belasca’s trepidation. She could understand it far better than her own faith in Kian Grey. “But…” Lady De Cinza continued. “I’ve come to trust you. And I suppose that is a beginning.”
4.
The wind descending from the hills was denuding the leaves of the Bosque and forming strong gusts through the narrows of Los Corredors, but in the Puerto district of Ladroa, Helicosian breezes still warmed the autumn nights.
Jenyeva had arranged for Kian to meet Belasca in one of the Grey Stripes’ warehouses by the water. Jan and Tzeyna stood by as well, the lady’s ever-present shadows. Even though Kian and his comrades had just thwarted an attempt on her life, the lady De Cinza still didn’t fully trust him. That, Jenyeva had gathered from Kian’s message, was the point of this meeting. His cloaked figure swept silently up the stairs to the clerk’s office above the warehouse floor. His face was covered by a wide-brimmed bravo’s hat, but by now Jenyeva could recognize the way Kian moved. Her intuition was unnecessary, as Kian doffed his hat when he entered as an apparent sign of respect for the lady De Cinza. He didn’t have any scars, or even a fearful countenance. He was perhaps thirty-five, with uniformly short hair from the stubble of his jaw, to the closely-shorn receding line of his crown. His long forehead seemed perpetually creased in a semblance of displeasure, but which his eyes revealed as pain. At least, that’s what Jenyeva saw in them. This was probably the first time that Belasca had clearly seen his face. “Senor Grey, thank you for your help the other night in the Bosque. It seems your prudence and suspicion was well-founded.” Belasca offered. He shrugged lightly and wiped his forehead, which did nothing to smooth out the furrows of his brow. There was a long silence. The old rafters of the warehouse creaked, and the sounds of the port floated in. Jenyeva started feeling nervous. Kian had called this meeting but he wasn’t saying anything and she could tell De Cinza found the moment uncomfortable, too. A lady was expected to smooth over such social awkwardness, but she looked quizzical and shifted in her chair.
“Senor, I still have many questions. Can you help me understand why you have acted on my behalf?” “Yes, that’s why I’ve come. To explain myself. But now I’m thinking that even my reasons aren’t so reasonable. Unless you know my story, I don’t think you’d really understand.” The young woman leaned forward. “Please, tell us. I would know.” Kian nodded and took a deep breath. “So, I’m Wellundian. Low-born, as if you couldn’t tell. I was a scrawny lad, not much good for farming, but the captain of the village militia took me on as his squire. Devald was his name, and I was proud as could be… right up to my first battle. Nobles are the same anywhere, aren’t they? Always fighting over something, and it’s the common folk who end up doing most of the dying for it.” Jenyeva winced inwardly. Kian’s distaste for the nobility wasn’t a good way to explain why Lady De Cinza should trust him. “I wasn’t strong enough yet to draw a full-sized bow, so I was waiting with the baggage carts when we were overrun. While others died, I hid, and I stayed that way till dusk. Things got quiet… all except for the crows. Only then did I go looking for Devald.” His expression was pained, eyes clouded over with memory. “I found him bleeding in the mud, pierced through, dying. He looked into my eyes and grabbed my hand, and he… he made me swear to look after his wife, Eldy, and their little baby daughter, Cassipia. I told him I would. I promised I’d protect them. He tried to smile at me, and then... he was gone.” He seemed to hang on that moment, steeling himself before continuing. “By the time I made my way back to our village, it had already been sacked. Village elders were all hanged in the square. Men, women, and children were dead in the street. I staggered to the house, desperate to find Eldy.” Kian’s jaw clenched, and for a moment he was so overcome, he couldn’t speak. “I didn’t find her, but I found the baby. Little Cassy… they just… “ He simply shook his head. There was no need to say more. Jenyeva caught her breath and Belasca closed her eyes to whisper a short prayer to herself. He swallowed before continuing. “Our new lord wasted no time setting up in the old master’s keep. I skulked in the shadows, watching the garrison for days. What else could I do? That’s when I saw her… Eldy. She looked like something inside her was broken. That special light in her eyes was gone, but she was still beautiful. Soldiers were escorting her to the keep, delivering her up to the new lord like a present.” His face darkened. “I couldn’t fight them, but I grew up around that keep. I knew how to sneak in, where to hide. I watched till nightfall, when they took Eldy to the lord’s bedchamber. Once they were alone, I crept in behind that pig and gutted him before he could lay a hand on her.” These last words Kian hissed through gritted teeth, as if he was reliving the anger of that moment. Then it quickly drained away, leaving something like shame in his eyes instead. “I thought she would thank me.” he said quietly. “I was just trying to… to keep some part of my promise to Devald. We could escape and start over. I thought I could make her happy again.” He shook his head in disgust “I was a fool. She didn’t need me. The new lord had saved her from the raid... taken her under his protection. She was to be his bride. I wasn’t a hero. She had a chance to start a new life, and I had just ripped that away from her. I’ll never forget that look on her face. Fear. Disgust. Despair. She cried out for the guards, and I ran. I ran and never looked back.” Lady De Cinza’s eyes were wide, but perplexed. She looked to Jenyeva, uncertain what to make of this tragic story. Jenyeva’s emotions were mixed. She herself had chosen to leave her convent, but she knew well enough what a lord’s protection could mean to one as vulnerable as Eldy, who had already suffered the loss of her child. At the same time, she found she still resented her for how she'd turned on Kian. Recomposing himself, Kian spoke up. “I’ve spent my whole life in the shadow of that failure. I did my best to avoid two wars, and did absolutely nothing to help anyone. I lived as a coward. Then, last summer near San Belamo, I got hired on as a sell-sword. Things went badly... a young noblewoman and a peasant child were both made to suffer horribly for the beliefs of others. I tried to help them, but in the end I couldn’t protect either one... not really. Something inside me snapped. Or maybe... something finally fell into place.” Jenyeva felt his eyes dart to her, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. “I couldn’t save Eldy, or little Cassy, or those girls in San Belamo… but I can still help others. I'm no saint. Maybe people deserve better, but sometimes I’m all they got. If I’m good for anything - if I want my life to be worth anything, I need to try.” He turned back to De Cinza, and gave her an earnest glance. “I know I can’t make up for a lifetime of failures and cowardice. I have nothing to gain from this… but nothing left worth losing. I’m doing this because I can. You don’t know if you can trust me. Well, I’ve trusted both of you with the truth of my past. That's something I’ve never done for anyone else. My motives are as simple as that.” De Cinza frowned and cleared her throat. “And your comrades? They also have this kind of motivation?” “My associates have their own agendas, but they can be counted on to fight, and I’m going to ensure they fight for you. But if the day comes that I need to stand between them and the defenseless... they’ll never see it coming.” Jenyeva let out a tiny gasp, stunned by Kian’s words. Could she imagine Jack, or Korvuus, or the affable Kuan ever falling afoul of Kian? They were comrades, weren’t they? For a long moment, De Cinza’s face seemed frozen in an expression of proper aristocratic detachment, but her eyes flickered as she processed Kian’s words. For an instant, Jenyeva could see the uncertain young girl behind the lady-like poise, her smooth brow knitted with contemplation. “Senor Grey, thank you for sharing your tale with me.” she said carefully. “I do think I understand you better now.” “Do you?” Kian’s eyes were unwavering. “Let’s just be clear. What I said about the others, that goes for you as well. I don’t care how young you are. If you ever decide that your rise comes at the expense of the innocent, I promise I will end you. This is why there will be no pledge of devotion here. Know that I will be the sole arbiter of my soul and those who come under my knife. I am at your disposal, but not under your command. Those are the terms of my service.” Jan and Tzeyna had kept a respectful distance at either side of the room since the beginning of the meeting, but they had never stopped paying attention. Jenyeva felt an almost imperceptible tension in both of them now. Their feet had not stirred, but it seemed like their bodies had edged forward, ready to act. Belasca seemed momentarily flustered, as if suddenly realizing their intentions, and raised a hasty hand to allay their concerns. They had heard Kian’s words, but Jenyeva and Belasca had seen his eyes. This was a warning for De Cinza, but it was not a threat. It was stern council, and as far as Jenyeva could tell, Belasca was taking it as such. She cleared her throat before speaking. Her voice was small, and slightly sad, but there was some steel there. “Yes, Senor Grey... we do understand each other. You are not my servant, any more than I am your charge. I will welcome your assistance when freely given. Rebuilding the reputation of the Grey Stripes is solely my responsibility, and I will give you no reason to doubt my intentions.” Kian gave a terse nod and donned his large hat. “You may send word through Jenyeva as needed.” Offering a very short bow, he left. When he had gone, Jenyeva turned back to face Belasca. She tried her best to stay neutral but she was still biting the inside of her cheek, nervous about her ladyship’s reaction. “Well...” Belasca finally said with a wry, crooked smile and a disarming calmness. “That was a bit intense.”
5.
“Do you want to die?” Jenyeva asked, her voice trembling, her cheeks flush.
Kian didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.
“Well?” She insisted, a shrill edge creeping in.
Kian flinched this time. Still not looking up from where he sat, he muttered quietly “Maybe I don’t care.”
“Yeah, well maybe some of us do!” Jenyeva stood on the forecastle of the Escarlata Lanza looking out at the port of Ladroa and taking deep breaths of the cool air coming off the water to calm herself. A week ago, this very ship had sailed into port carrying Kian’s companions as conquering heroes who ended the pirate scourge of the Helicosian sea.
Jenyeva then had to watch as Jack and Kuan were met by the Watch and escorted to the Grand Magistrate to answer accusations of murder, racketeering, and sedition. This had been anticipated, of course. Korvuss had arrived ahead of the Lanza and found Jenyeva, insisting that she carry a message to Lady De Cinza immediately. A plan was formulated and hasty arrangements made. Belasca De Cinza had agreed to claim noble sponsorship of their unsanctioned actions in Ladroa, invoking her privilege to shield them from prosecution. And so it went... until Kian had interceded.
“Help me understand! Why did you do it? Why didn’t you just let De Cinza arrange things with the Mariscales?” Jenyeva refused to face him.
By Jack’s account, Kian had done everything in his power to place himself outside her protection before proceeding to challenge, insult, and attack the very institution of law in Ladroa. Even after Jack and Kuan were released, Kian had remained in custody. His actions had stirred a storm of negotiation, and Jenyeva had not heard from De Cinza or Kian for several days. Now that he was there before her, she was so angry she couldn’t stand to look at him.
This is how Belasca found them when she stepped aboard. Jenyeva was facing starboard, watching the fishermen return from their day’s labour, while Kian crouched on a small collection of lashed barrels. If Jenyeva’s anger was born of fear for Kian’s life, De Cinza’s were likely rooted in how Kian’s words had both humiliated her, and ultimately placed an even greater burden upon her.
“Well, I have signed my pledge before Grand Magistrate Judex. You are now under my protection. You’ve surprised me, Senor Grey. Until that display in the court, I would not have thought you so arrogant.”
Jenyeva did not turn, but she felt the sting in Belasca’s words. Many words described Kian in her mind; righteous, vindictive, menacing, but also generous, and even kind, in his way. She had come to understand his shows of bravado were mostly to mask his insecurities, even from himself. However, she just couldn’t understand his actions this time.
“Y’know, I didn’t think I was so arrogant, either.” Kian mused. Jenyeva finally turned to see his expression. He had not moved. He remainedl crouched, almost prostrate before Belasca De Cinza. “I think that what I said at the tribunal was anger, not arrogance. The Mariscales were supposed to protect the innocent of this city. They were failing, and I despised them for their indifference and fuckin’ complacency.”
There was an edge of injured pride in his voice, but it was only a faint echo of what it had once been. It seemed to melt away as quickly as the words came out of his mouth, like the first flakes of winter falling on Ladroa.
He let out a sigh and stood to face both young women.“No, you’re right. I was arrogant, and I was wrong. I’m not the man I thought I was… not the man I said I was.”
“That’s not true! What you did was misguided and stupid, but you did it to protect Lady De Cinza and the others… just as you protected me.” Jenyeva’s voice was fragile and her eyes wide in protest against threatening tears. Belasca gave her a sad, appraising look.
Kian shook his head grimly. “I killed an innocent woman.”
Jenyeva was dumbfounded. Belasca only narrowed her eyes.
“Judex told me.” Kian explained. “There was an agent in the employ of the Mariscales. She was there in disguise that night when we massacred those child-raping pieces of shite in the temple under the guildhouse. It was her that gave Mariscal Gorgones the lead on the Copper Goblet, too. She was following the same trail we were… and we executed her on the spot without so much as a pause. I was so sure I should be the one to decide who lived or died. I thought I was so righteous, but I was just out for blood.”
“But...” Jenyeva began to protest as she moved closer to Kian but Lady De Cinza’s small arm straightened by her side, palm-open towards Jenyeva, motioning her to stop. She wanted Kian to continue.
“But nothing... I couldn’t keep my promise to Devald. I couldn't keep Eldy or Cassy safe. How is someone like me supposed to protect anyone? I just use the suffering of innocents to justify my anger. Same way I use this cursed amulet to punish other poor bastards when I’m foolish enough to get into trouble. Same way I used you, Jenyeva, to protect Lady De Cinza in the Bosque. And now I’ve used her to vouchsafe my freedom and my useless life.”
Belasca now beckoned Jenyeva forward with a small wave, and took her hand in her tiny one. It helped Jenyeva feel stronger, though she was unsure which of them the gesture was meant to comfort.
Belasca cleared her throat. “You may think me naive, but I am not. I know Judex wouldn’t spare you solely based on my guarantee for your behaviour. Your confessions made that impossible, and yet here you are. Am I right in thinking this means you have made your own deal with him?”
Kian hesitated, then looked up to meet her gaze. Even respecting her precocious nature as he did, he was still genuinely surprised by her insight. “I have.” he admitted.
“So what will you do now Senor Grey? Leave Ladroa?”
“I’ve considered it.”
Jenyeva looked as if she was about to protest, but Belasca gripped her hand tighter to quiet her.
“Consider this. You once said you would not pledge yourself to me, and that you would hold me accountable if I ever exploited the innocent. Now, your choices have made you beholden to me. Apart from your arrangement with Judex, the house of De Cinza is now your guarantor. Others, too, have spoken on your behalf. I am told your companion, Korvuus, made a compelling appeal. Al-Sijad of the Seda Market came forward to speak for you too, as did the Mariscal Gorgones. I am told that a member of the old Siiga clergy even made a plea for clemency, however you managed that.”
Kian seemed briefly confounded by this, but the lady continued.
“You are fallible like anyone else, Senor Grey, but your mistakes do not excuse you from your obligations. Whatever promises you failed to keep in the past, there are still debts you owe. To myself, yes… but also to your comrades, to this city, and to many others.” She cast a fleeting glance to Jenyeva. “A broken man is little use to anyone, so before you seek to lose yourself in shame and doubt, ask instead... what about promises you can still keep? What about promises yet to be made? Will you run from this? Or will you serve those in need? What say you?”
There was a silence only broken by seagulls and the creaking of the ship. “What say you, Kian?” Jenyeva echoed. She bit the inside of her cheek, preparing herself for yet another one of life's many disappointments.
“I... will serve, milady.”
6.
“I hope her ladyship likes old Aesosian camp decor.”
Kian and Jenyeva stood back, admiring their work in the main hall of the Grey Lodge. It was newly adorned with the tapestries and other furnishings that King Taronymes had bestowed upon them in Thessios, lavish but somehow gaudy in these surroundings. Kian uncorked a small cask and poured two mugs. “And in case you’re as sick of all that sweet Aesosian wine as I am, here’s some proper ale like they make up North.” He gestured around the room. “Did I mention we earned all this swag for defeating a dragon?” “Once or twice” Jenyeva replied smiling, delivering a playful punch to Kian’s shoulder. “Guess you’re going to be staying here, now?” Jenyeva shook her head. “Belasca… Lady De Cinza... told me she’d take care of me. She said that she owed me that much, though I think she really means she owes you. Anyway, I can’t act as her eyes and ears in the city if everyone knows I’m working for the Grey Stripes. Keeping a low profile is what I’m used to, so I found a little garret above a bookshop in the Colegio, and it’s all covered as part of my stipend.” She gave a nervous laugh. Kian frowned. “Colegio is Arriaga’s turf, innit? If his people ever give you any trouble…” “I know, I know. We’ve been over that.” For a while they sat in silence with their drinks. Lady De Cinza and her entourage had still not arrived to take possession of the Grey Lodge. In the courtyard, they could hear the sounds of Kuan loading their possessions on a large cart bound for their new home in the building above the Copper Goblet. Somewhere upstairs, Jack was supervising young Iarden as he packed up some of his more lurid acquisitions. Korvuus was absent, as usual. He had talked his way into several libraries in Ladroa, and always seemed to be researching… something. “Do you really have to go?” Jenyeva asked. After sitting quietly with Kian, her mood had turned solemn. “I think it’s for the best. This affair with Di Magappi and the assassination of the Legate is settled for now, but I think some of the Mariscales may still have it in for me. Besides, the Lady De Cinza could use a break from all the excitement we bring to her life.” “She’s reclaimed more than what you have cost her. She knows you’ve helped her, and there’s a debt there.” “I don't ask for payment. I owe her now.” Kian protested gently, his jaw clenching. “But loyalty is repaid in loyalty, favour with favour, and love with… love.” Jenyeva concluded uncomfortably. Kian stood and walked a few paces away, keeping his back to Jenyeva. “Careful, pet.” he warned. “I’ve seen a lot of horrible things in my time… done a lot of horrible things too, if I’m being honest. A life like that stains a man’s heart, and it doesn’t wash clean.” Jenyeva stood too, though she couldn’t approach him. She felt uncertainty ripple through her, but she somehow found her voice, and the words came spilling out. “I know you! You’re a kind man, even though you hide it. You’re proud, even if you resent it… and you’re loyal, even when it torments you! And you’ve shown me more kindness than... well, anyone else ever has, really.” “People can confuse gratitude with other things. Especially when they’ve been mistreated so long they don’t know what ordinary kindness feels like anymore.” He sounded weary. “I’m not a child. I know my own heart! Don’t be stoic with me! I know you must have some feelings for me. Otherwise, why --?” “Maybe I do have feelings, but they aren’t what you want them to be.” “People like you -- like both of us -- we can still be happy, can’t we? Maybe you just need time to...” “It will never happen, pet.” Jenya shook her head, gripping her now empty mug tightly with both hands. She didn’t understand what he was saying. This wasn’t a con. She had come to know his kindness, his vulnerability, and his underlying sense of honour. This was real. Why couldn’t he feel the same way? She knew it had to be that crippling guilt he had carried for so long. The promise never kept. The wound that never healed. “But why not? It’s … it’s because of Eldy, isn’t it? You were in love with her. With your captain’s wife.” “Aye... it’s true I loved her.” he admitted quietly. “I never wanted to betray Devald. I never wished him dead. But it was still betrayal when I promised I’d look after her and Cassy. I didn’t do it for him, or for them. It was for my own selfish reasons. And then I made the betrayal worse, because I didn’t protect her in the way she needed, only the way I wanted. I failed to keep that promise. I can’t undo that, and I can’t forgive myself for it.” “So, that’s it then? You’ll go through life miserable, never allowing yourself to love or be loved? That’s stupid!” Her voice was trembling. “You don’t understand, but how could you? I’m not even sure I do. I think I helped you because… because you’re the same age as her.” Kian looked at her with pity, and took a step forward but Jenyeva shrank back. “Eldy?” she asked. The bitter name of a rival she had never met dripped from her lips. “No, not Eldy. Well, maybe when I last saw her, aye… but that’s not it. You’re the same age as Cassy. I mean, the age she would have been if… I hadn’t failed her.” Kian rubbed his brow, and looked at the floor. “I can’t ever give you what you want.” Jenyeva made no pretense anymore to hide her emotions around Kian and what she felt right now was pain and confusion. “I don’t understand. Why--?” she stuttered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she shook her head. “Devalt wasn’t just my captain, Jenyeva. He was my older brother. Cassy... poor little Cassy was my niece. I look at you, and all I can think is… that she’d be your age, now.” And there it was. Clear as the sun reflecting on fresh snow. He saw her as the spectre of a child who was never permitted to grow up. He saw her like he saw everything else: as a way to atone, and a way to punish himself. She set the mug down on the table with pronounced, distant care. Then she stood herself up straight, and nonchalantly wiped her cheeks dry. She put on a smile and nodded. “I understand. I really do. Thank you for explaining.” Her voice was smooth and pleasant. Kian still looked at her with that same, unwanted pity. She didn’t need to be protected this time. He couldn’t hide his pain, but she could. “I’m going to find Belasca, to let her know that the Lodge is ready.” She pulled her cloak around her shoulders. “You’ll probably already be gone by the time I return. Have a safe journey.” Kian stepped forward to protest but Jenyeva spun on her heel. She walked straight down the corridor of the Grey Lodge and out onto the cobblestones before he could say a word. As she lowered her mask over her face, passerby caught just a glimpse of a striking young woman who strode with confidence and purpose down the crowded winter streets of Ladroa. And no one could see that Jenyeva was still biting her cheek.
