Maybe I Will Chapter Ten
AN: Well, I'm going to try to write through my writers block. Good luck to me. If this looks odd, I'm writing with my Mom's laptop, and it's a bit different. Ah, well. Anyway, thanks to all who read this thing. I love you all! BTW, in case anyone is wondering, this is NOT a journal.
Disclaimer: I own nothing! I don't even have any money! So don't sue me!
Beka POV:
I nearly started laughing as Srimfor tried to bribe me. Just because I was born in the Cesspool, people think I will be a greedy mot, who barely lives on the right side of the law. But I was raised in my Lord's home, and am stuck at my views on the law. Besides, growing up in the Cesspool taught me to not be greedy. You don't get much, so you deal or die. I decided to mess with Klyminet a bit.
"Hmm… My family is living as well as can be expected, giving their situation…" The Provest's home is a good place to live. Kora barely managed to turn her laugh into a snort, and Erskren looked as though he might suffocate from withheld laughter. "And all my friends are fine. Any other bribes you'd care to try?" It was probably not a wise choice of words. Rosto looked as though he agreed. Srimfor interrupted my thoughts.
"There is one more…" The tone of his voice had me wary.
"And that is?" Rosto looked ready to kill someone. I hope he doesn't . That person is probably me.
"Oh, you probably will not be interested in it. You are too high and mighty for such a thing as bribery." The tone was scary, angry and a bit insane.
"I am not high and mighty. I simply have no wish to receive your bribes or stay in Scanra." He was about to reply when an older woman came in. She glanced at Klyminet, standing ominously at the end of the bed, and paled visibly, which was a sight. Her skin was very pale, so being able to see it pale meant she was snow white. She gulped.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to check that your wound is healing properly. Excuse me, younglings." She directed this at Kora and Erskren, who were in between her and my bed. They stepped out of her way. She bustled over, tense from the glares Srimfor was sending her way. She lifted my bandages examining the scar there.
"Well! Your cut is well healed, but there may be a scar. You got to us a little late, so… Well, you will probably have a scar. You just be thankful that's all you're going to have!" We, except for Klyminet, all thanked her profusely for her help. She accepted the thanks, and left, a bit faster than she normally would have. I didn't blame her. If looks could kill, she would be six feet under from the glares coming from the Rogue standing at the foot of my bed. He looked as though he was going to say something, was even opening his mouth, when another figure burst into the room.
(AN: Yes, I know I'm avoiding the inevitable, but I still have writers block! I promised this chapter would go out today, and it is going to, no matter how bad it is. Now, remember all those questions I asked you reviewers to answer? The more answers I get, the faster the next chapter! laughs evilly)
"Sir! There's a problem downstairs. There is some mot at the gate, and she won't leave until she 'has a talk' with you." Klyminet turned his glare on the figure, a short Carthaki man, panting heavily from running here.
"And why have none of my rushers dispatched her?" The Carthaki looked nervous.
"She dispatched them. And still won't leave."
"Description. Who is she?"
"Short. Dark brown hair, cut short. Lots of muscle. And… She uses a Dog's baton." I jumped. The looks were vague, but coupled with being a Dog, and the wording of her request, it was an exact description of Goodwin. Srimfor paled very slightly.
"A Dog? What are you still doing here? Bring her here immediately! And apologize for the rough treatment ."
"No need, Klyminet. The treatment was a good warm-up. Cooper! Up and at um'!" Without thinking, I jumped up, thankful I was still dressed. Goodwin stood in the doorway, watching us. She was wearing a cityman's tunic and breeches, but held her baton loosely in her left hand. My friends looked surprised and pleased by her arrival. She looked at me and whistled.
"You must've been in some fight, with those bruises. You look worse than your first brawl at the Barrel's Bottom." I glanced down and winced. My wrists were surrounded with purplish-green bruising, and there were more scattered on every bit of exposed skin. Numerous small scratches dotted my skin as well. She was right. I did look worse than that day. Srimfor cleared his throat, looking at Goodwin. We had been ignoring him, and it was vexing him bad.
"Who are you, Dog? And how do you know the mot here?" Goodwin looked him over, absorbing every detail to be used later. She gave a predatory grin, more teeth than cheer.
"Clary Goodwin. Provest's Guardsmen, commonly referred to as Dogs, of the Lower City. I am one of the Training Dogs assigned to Rebekah Cooper, Trainee Guardsman, also of the Lower City." For such a simple question, she drew it far out, making it sound far more grand than it was. Surprisingly, she didn't use my common nickname, Terrier. She teases me endlessly about it.
"Hey Goodwin! How'd you get enough time off to come?" Erskren watched her eagerly, trying to appear as though he wasn't trying to change the subject. She took the bait.
"As Cooper is my Puppy, I'm allowed to come looking for her. I was going to wait for The Piper here, but nearly three weeks missing is too long to wait." I was shocked at that.
"Nearly three weeks?! Just how long have I been out?" Rosto was the one who answered.
"A week. And you were here for nearly two before we all showed up." Klyminet was getting increasingly annoyed at our discluding conversation. He cleared his throat…