Chapter 5
What a Drag
As the gunslinger had speculated, he found himself satisfied with what had happened to the girl after discovering what had occurred since his departure; his appetite to uncover the facts quelled his once turbulent thoughts, and he found himself getting on with his duties without interruption a week later. Albeit, he couldn't help but recant the sleepless night he had suffered through upon discovering she was still alive; his thoughts had kept him up and he regretted letting them get the best of him the next morning. He hadn't been certain if it was from merely being overly-exhausted, an ironic occurrence that happened every once in a while, or because he couldn't exactly envelope and put away the discussion with the older Outworlder that night.
"She spoke of how you had the opportunity to aid her and did nothing and as far as I'm concerned you are much to blame for her situation."
It still played in his head like a broken recording, but eventually, he was able to ignore its persistent tune until it was lost in the background noise of his more important duties. Regardless the reason why he was still thinking about those words— it really didn't matter anymore. Erron was compensated with the fact that he had paid his penitence with a single night of restless sleep. The bounty hunter adamantly refused from then on to think about her, the old man or what happened. Past was past. Like he had told himself countless times, it was none of his business, and he firmly reprimanded himself to start treating it as such. He certainly would miss the whiskey, though, it had certainly been the only highlight of the bargain.
However, regardless of the fact that he was satiated, and could move on from his troublesome domestic dilemma, there was still one person that refused to let the subject die. It had surprised the gunslinger just how aggravatingly relentless Tama had become since the girl's disappearance, and had continued to pursue him for answers about her well-being for an unclassified reason. Black had already told her what had happened, but she still would not drop the subject. In fact, after he had told her she seemed more adamant about suggesting Black go and find her. The moment the idea had left her lips, he had scoffed cynically at her and told her 'come back with coins.'
Erron frankly couldn't understand Tama's obsession over the bartender. What was the girl to her? It wasn't his problem. If Tama wanted her so badly, she could go find her. As far as he knew, she acted adverse to the girl the last time he had seen the two together. Plus, he hated the older Outworld woman and certainly wasn't keen on doing her any favors. Erron recalled asking why Tama was insistent and it turned out that one of her indentured servants had given birth and provided a vacancy in the kitchen.
Not my circus, not my monkeys. He mused silently to himself as the Kahn's guard spun the cylinders of his revolver under the pillar while he watched the executions taking place in the Emperor's Courtyard; nothing special, just murderers and thieves. After a while, he had grown disinterested with beheading after beheading. It was one of his more monotonous assignments that he had to participate on a weekly basis and he always found himself succumbing to boredom. Irritably, there had been something new that had happened that day, when Ferra/Torr had stopped by and asked what had happened to the bread he used to get. He completely ignored them, and when they received no answer, stomped off. Would no one leave him alone about it? Now even the symbiotic pair were bringing up the subject? The girl was annoying him even without being around.
Speaking of annoying, when he saw Tama approaching him the marksman felt his lips press into a hard line from beneath his facemask. He had thought she had taken the hint the last time they spoke.
"Have you found her?"
The gunman crinkled his nose at her question, but continued to look at his revolvers; pretending as if she was not there. Even without having to look at her, he could still see the stern and disappointed face out the corner of his eye. It was almost as if she was just as tired of repeating the conversation as he was of hearing it. Erron finally looked up at her and mirrored her discontented disposition.
"I wasn't aware this was the way to your job," he commented intently. It was a subtle warning, underlined in his low tone; telling her to back off.
"I was meeting with someone," Tama answered, acting obtuse to his anger. "Answer my question."
Black sighed as he pushed himself from the wall to stand in front of the incessant palace worker. He had enough of this horseshit.
"I'm only gonna say this once: quit botherin' me."
The woman raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "I will when you find her," Tama quipped, a cryptic smile on her face, "I'll even make it easy for you. I just saw her in the marketplace. It looked as if she was trading with the vendor that sells clothing by the fountain. She did not look well."
"And I care, why?" he snapped callously.
Tama frowned sternly at him, unappreciative of his cutting tone. "Perhaps so you can repay the debt you have hanging over your head," Tama bit back.
The corners of Erron's mouth twitched upwards from beneath his leather mask as he met her with a sour glare, "I don't owe shit."
Tama crossed her arms over her chest and flashed him with a dubious look, "Do you really believe that? I find that hard to trust after what you told me."
"The only thing I'm having a hard time believing, is why you care so much?" Black responded.
"I have a position I need to be filled— that is all," Tama informed him plainly, "Just like you, I have a job to do."
"Then go find her already," Erron shot back with a roll of his eyes, his head motioning towards the exit, "You said it yourself, she's in the marketplace."
Tama frowned, her eyes drifting back and forth slightly as if she was trying to recall something, "I lost her in the crowd before I could speak to her."
Black narrowed his eyes, detecting her obvious lie. He could sense that that there was more to the story than Tama felt divulging to him. If she wanted the girl so badly found, she didn't necessarily need him and could have used a guard to go find her. There was something else going on, and he could see her weaving a malicious spider-web the more he spoke with her. Perhaps it was just to annoy him because she was aware of Erron's distaste for the servant and wanted to parade it around like a play to entertain herself with. Folks in Outworld had done odder things, but whatever it was she wanted from his services, he didn't particularly care or was in the slightest way interested enough to ask. Erron instead clicked the cylinder back into place, twirled his gun expertly and put it back into his holster.
"That's a shame for you then. I ain't your damn errand boy. You want me to find her so badly, then it'll cost you." he concluded sarcastically, turning away from her to plant himself against the pillar once more. Expecting their conversation to conclude there.
"How much?"
His eyes narrowed sharply in confusion as he turned back to her: "What?"
"How much would it cost for you to find her and bring her to me?" Tama asked, a sly eyebrow lifting at him.
He swallowed at her proposition as if he had gulped a rotten piece of food. He exhaled in irritation at her; he would not budge. "You can't afford it— so drop it."
"Just let me know what the price is and I'll tell you if I cannot afford it," Tama challenged, blasé to his rejection.
Erron narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously; if the woman wanted to bargain with him then so be it. Now that she had something of value, he couldn't help but consider it. Bounties had been running tight lately, even with the skirmish in the Tarkatan Wastelands, and a few more coins to line his pockets wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Especially if he was robbing the coin purse of the Outworlder that wouldn't leave him the hell alone. He'd make her regret it. If she wanted the girl that stubbornly then fine, he would bring her in. Even though he disliked the prospect of doing anything for the odious woman or dealing with the headstrong girl, he was more than done with Tama's persistent badgering. With all that in mind, he told her double the amount he usually charged for locating someone that wasn't a fugitive.
"5,000 gold pieces and a small deposit up front," Black smirked behind his mask, knowing she wouldn't have either.
He was wrong.
Tama barely batted an eyelash: "How wonderful. I will have spare change."
He couldn't help but watch resentfully as she smiled smugly and calmly fished out a large bag of coins that had been concealed in the basket of fruit and vegetables. She wanted for him to see she had it prepared and ready to go for him, and the realization of it sent a flash of annoyance through his veins. It had been her intention to recruit him since she had walked up to him. He didn't enjoy being used, or walking unknowingly into a scheme that he wanted no participation in. He made the decisions on what he did, when and what time, and the only one that was exempt from his resentment was Kotal Kahn; the emperor paid him exuberantly not to ask questions. Being played, however, pissed him off to no end — money or no money.
She smirked lightly at him, almost as if she was able to telepathically read his thoughts, and grabbed his hand to place them in his palm. The coins were heavy in his hand and despite his mistrust for the woman, knew that she hadn't short-changed him; it would have been counterproductive on her part and they both knew it. The only way for him to do anything unquestionably was to play to his greed.
"A small deposit. I will have the rest of your money for you when you bring her by," Tama calmly notified as she passed.
Black just stood there; contemplating on giving the coins back. Instead, he found his callous hands gripping the bag of coins angrily in his hand. He must say, the woman was much craftier than he would have given her credit for. Didn't mean he wasn't still irked even if she was offering to pay him double, whether she knew the set amount or not. He had suspected that she was aware of his required amount, otherwise it was merely a improbable coincidence if she hadn't. He didn't believe in coincidence. It had been calculated the moment the girl stopped making her deliveries. Where did Tama even get all this money to begin with? It couldn't have fallen into her hands as easily as if it rained from sky. He wondered how much the woman had piled up, and if he should up the charge. Especially considering who he was retrieving.
The bartender wasn't nearly as dangerous as any of his other bounties, she didn't even fall into the same spectrum as the others. However, he could already predict that she would be the most troublesome one as of late. Black sighed irritably as he chewed the inside of his cheek. The bounty hunter could already picture the scenario running though his head: childish screaming, kicking and perhaps a slap or two. Sounds fun.
Erron looked up, his eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head. Regardless of the impending headache, it was a job and he would see it through. He had worked for worse and had brought in far worse. He should be happy about the prospect of easy coins. It wasn't a hard job.
"Goddammit..."
Didn't mean he was going to like it, though.
Black had waited for the last of the beheaded thieves' heads to roll before he departed to search for the bartender. It would be his last job for the day, and he sought to get it done as quickly as possible. He surmised it wouldn't take long to find her, and probably would by the time the sun hid beyond the horizon.
In the meantime, the midday bazaar bristled with activity as he approached the last of the clothing vendor.s left to interrogate As soon as the scrawny, teenage Outworld kid saw him approach, the gunslinger visibly noticed the boy hold his breath in terror. Erron noticed one of the other vendors at the stall had turned on his heel and briskly marched away as soon as he noticed the Kahn's guard come towards them, leaving his co-worker alone with the mercenary to fend for himself.
The older man towered over the child as he rested one of his hands on top of a blue, silk shirt and watched the boy gulp nervously. The gunman rose an eyebrow at the kid's spineless reaction to him. Yes, the cowboy did feel elation in getting the right reaction from him but found his exaggerated display a little too much. It was almost as if the kid was afraid that if he didn't oversell it, Erron would put a bullet in his head. At least it'll be easier to get answers.
"Don't piss yourself," Black scolded with a scoff, unmerciful to the boy's blubbering fear towards the ex-Earthrealmer. "You trade with anyone recently?"
"Uhhh..."
Black narrowed his eyes impatiently. "A girl. Where she go?"
Realization hit the kid's face, "Oh! She, um, went in the direction of the docks, I think. Smelled like fish, so I'm sure that's where she is. I-I don't know her name, though. Never gave it."
The outlaw tapped a finger on the silk shirt and studied the kid for a tell that he lied to him. When he saw none, nodded and left. The bodyguard heard the teenager let out a heavy sigh of relief as Black walked away.
As he continued in the direction towards the docks, the bounty hunter suddenly came to realize that this was one of the rare times he did not know the name of the person he was after. Erron knew that the older man he had questioned a week ago had dropped it in the conversation, but he couldn't recall what it was. Did it really matter though? She wasn't anything to him and it would only make his job the slightest more difficult if he couldn't find her with the fish. He hadn't cared to know what her name was even when they struck the deal; it hadn't been vital to their agreement. He also ignored the thought that maybe it was a little disrespectful he never did ask.
With a roll of his shoulders he pressed on, ignoring the last thought.
As the hired gun approached the docks, the smell of the ocean air did little to mask the putrid smell of fish guts and other unidentifiable oceanic fragrances. He never did like the docks and never cared for the taste of seafood. It had always been a natural aversion he had since he was young. Perhaps, it was because he was simply unaccustomed to it, or because he spent more than enough time on a boat travelling to grow a distaste for it. Regardless, he hated it.
By the time he had reached the docks, one of the more famous inglorious parts of the capitol, he noticed that most of the fisherman began to close shop for the day as they went to clearing their salt-damaged wooden boards with cleaning rags while other tied up their Junker ships that bounced precariously against the rotted wooden piers. Customers were still being served despite the wharf closing, as birds and rats scurried about looking for scraps amongst the pilings decorated with skulls.
As he moved off from the harbor, the descending sun to his back, he eyed the buildings that made up the downtrodden neighborhood. He moved around silently, trying to see if he could spy the irregularity to the male and prostitute dominated population. The gunslinger had to wonder why a woman would choose to come down here willingly if she didn't have to. Most of the ones that found themselves housed here were due to falling victim to undesirable personal circumstances. Being broke was a big factor for many, as the whores of the wharf began to pool out of their homes to beckon any fisherman eager to taste their bait. It wasn't a surprise that the area was littered with brothels, and it had been a long time since he had ventured down the same avenue of debauchery for himself. There were cleaner, and more expensive whores closer to the palace he had the coin for whenever he was in the mood.
Speaking of coin, he observed that they began to take notice of him more than any of the other potential buyers. He was quick to decline, replying with a smirk, and telling them 'Sorry, darling, working.' Most tried to persuade to take a few minutes off, and others had blasted him with harsh words that were certainly unladylike. Erron hadn't bothered asking any of them if they had seen her because he doubted the bartender would have associated with the likes of the feral hens on the docks.
With the stalls closing and most of them already closed, he found himself at a dead end for information. He honestly had no idea where she would venture off to at this hour and didn't know enough about her to figure out what her next move would have been. He spent another hour on the docks as night caked the area in blackness. It was pointless at this point, hell he didn't even want to be out here in the first place and settled with returning to the palace and resuming his search in the morning; unwilling to lose another night of sleep over the bartender.
He was already heading the in direction of the Kahn's palace, when out of sheer, dumb luck, he finally spotted a familiar black and ragged scarf lifted in a hood out of the corner of his eye.
He followed quietly behind the baggy-clothed figure oblivious to his presence. Even from the dirty and ratty clothes. He could tell the figure to be a woman. Black stalked in silence as she walked briskly through the streets; simultaneously trying to draw as little attention to the men around as she could. As Black followed, he had noticed a couple of dicey gentleman crow towards the figure with interest until they got near. Immediately, they back away and then turned their nose in disgust. It was only when Erron got closer did he discover why.
She reeked of fish.
It was the bartender.
Suddenly, the mercenary ducked into the shadows as his pursued looked behind her. She didn't see him, and he poked his head out, squinting in the darkness to reconfirm it was his target.
It was her and she looked worse than the last time he saw her.
The girl surveyed the darkness, glancing from detail to detail with suspicion as she licked the bottom of her dry and cracked lips. Despite the darkness, Erron could see her face had been sunburned by hours of standing outside in her new occupation. Obviously, they hadn't been paying her very good as he noted her malnourished appearance underneath the collection of green and purple bruises scattered along her skin. It also looked like she hadn't slept in days, and it was apparent not just because of the ragged expression she wore, but also from her bloodshot eye. It was hard to tell if her other eye was bloodshot due to the angry black and purple bruise that darkened her socket.
Her expression deadpan as she turned away and shrugged off her doubt of being followed and adjusted the leather messenger bag she had. Erron walked out of his improved hideaway and continued to follow her, somewhat curious as she led him into an alley between a disheveled and abandoned building that boarded the marketplace. Seeing that they were finally alone, he decided to make his approach.
He walked blatantly up to her, standing a few feet behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. He stopped where he was when she noticed the girl began to visibly slow her pace. He cleared his throat intently behind her, and as expected, she halted when she heard him. As the gunslinger waited for her to turn and acknowledge him, he saw her head crane slightly in his direction but not enough to see who was behind her.
Erron was quite surprised how quickly she managed to reach inside the cloth belt, pull out the same wooden knife she had on her the first day they met, whirl around and slash at him. The girl hit nothing but air in her defensive frenzy, and unfortunately for her, was not as quick as the hardened gunfighter.
He caught her wrist easily in a firm grasp as she immediately fought him viciously; kicking and screaming so much Erron didn't think she even knew who she was fighting. He applied bruising pressure to her wrist by digging his thumb into her pulse. When she refused to relent, he twisted her wrist, causing her to cry out in pain and let go of the knife; letting it fall to the sand harmlessly between them.
Her eyes shot up to her assailant and widened in recognition before they narrowed with seething hatred. Before he could say anything, she used her free hand and slapped him as hard as she could across his face.
It was enough force to jerk his head to the side and while it surprised him, it didn't hurt him as his mask took the brunt of her blow. Erron saw her hand come up for another slap until he caught her other wrist and pushed her roughly against the wall of the alley. The enraged woman grunted in pain when her back hit the wall but continued to fight him regardless; shrieking incoherently in frustration at him as he did her best to break from his hold. Black watched with a deadpan expression as she kicked and bucked, trying to get him to release her and instead waited coolly in silence. He was pleased it didn't last as long as he expected, and when she finally figured she was not going to break free, opted for glaring at him venomously through the strings of loose hair that had fallen from her bun. She bared her teeth like a caged animal at him, emphasizing her barbaric appearance even more.
"Happy to see me?" he asked with dry humor.
She spat at him like a cobra and Erron squinted when it landed in his right eye, disgustingly blinding him. Good aim.
The bounty hunter let go of one of her wrists, moving to hold both in one tight grip against her chest with little difficulty, before he shot her an indignant look and wiped his eye with a finger.
"Quit it."
"Let go of me!" she demanded, jerking her wrists. He turned his face away as he caught another whiff her. She smelled heavily of body odor and fish, and he thought of letting her go for the smell alone.
"Then stop acting like a child," Erron replied sternly.
"Get your hands off me, you wretch!" she hollered, ignoring his request while she continued to pull unsuccessfully from his grip.
He clicked his tongue at her and told her with an almost teasing tone: "You can do better than that. Have at it."
Her eyes narrowed, insulted, "Burn in the Netherrealm!"
"There ya go," Black commented sarcastically. That was as far as the humor went for the both before she stopped struggling in his grasp. She hung her head in defeat, the iron clasp he had on her wrists and the wall, the only support that seemed to be holding her up.
"Why are you here?" she choked out, her words wavering like she was on the verge of sobbing, "Haven't you done enough to me?"
He shrugged, "I hardly did anything."
"Exactly… you did nothing…" her green eyes bored into him accusingly and he felt himself frown at her words. Erron looked her over, considering if he could trust her not to run off or not and decided to finally let her hands go.
She seemed surprised by it and instinctively brought her hands away from him and rubbed her wrists. The bartender avoided his eyes and instead looked at his boots, her chest rising and falling in anger and exhaustion as her ratty and dirty hair hung around her face like a curtain. He let her collect her thoughts and after a moment of silence, he saw her eyes glance to the knife that lay off to the side and then sharply back to him.
"Don't even think about it," he warned darkly.
She dove for it and he raised a boot to trip her which she easily stumbled over, causing her to land on the ground hard. She grunted when she fell but however still reached for the handle. Before she could grab it, his foot landed on her wrist, pinning her hand to the ground and earning a groan of pain that she muffled by putting her face into the sand.
The mercenary rolled his eyes in annoyance and sighed, "Knock it off."
She mumbled something inaudible into the sand, something scathing. He continued to keep the crushing pressure on her wrist before he added drolly: "As much fun as this is, you'll be coming along with me now."
Her face lifted from the sand, a thin layer a covering her sunburned face as she glared defiantly at him, "I am not going anywhere with you," she spat, her words trembling with rage.
"I ain't asking," The Kahn's guard told her nonchalantly, "Tama has a job for you. You think I'm out here out of sympathy?"
A small look of fear came across her face at Tama's name as she brushed the sand from her face with her free hand, "I have a job," she retorted weakly at him.
"Yeah, I can smell it," he acknowledged, his nose twitching from behind his face mask. She didn't reply to him and instead glowered at the boot he had on her wrist.
He sighed with exasperation; he was done toying around, "Get up. I'm tired of this shit."
Her head lifted to meet his eyes with a malicious expression, "I really don't care," she replied lowly, mocking the words he had once said to her back at him.
Erron gritted his teeth in behind his face mask at her words, impatience flashing through him as he lifted his foot off her wrist, grabbed her by the back of the collar and pulled her to her feet with an uncaring jerk. The girl bumbled across the sand, trying to find her footing as the gunslinger pressed on with her in tow like he was hauling a stubborn mule behind him; pulling at her collar every time she refused to keep up with him.
The bounty hunter stormed out of the alley and in the direction of the palace with her in unwillingly in his grasp while she fought back every stumble of the way. He felt her grab onto his wrist for support as he kept his stormy eyes glued in the direction of his destination.
Suddenly, after a few minutes of nothing but hearing her lumbering along, Black heard something rip and felt his arm go slack. Erron looked back to see her running in the opposite direction with the back of her dress ripped open, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and left him holding on to the forgotten section of fabric in his hand.
"Dammit," he cursed as he threw the cloth to the ground with annoyance and ran after her.
She didn't get far from him when he bear-hugged her from behind and pinned her arms to her side. She let out a frustrated caterwaul and fought him as immediately as soon as he enclosed his arms around her. The bounty hunter whirled her around and sharply threw her back in the direction of the palace, letting her fall to the ground carelessly. She cried out as she landed face first and didn't get the opportunity to stand as Black grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her like a sack of flour across the sand.
Eventually the girl fumbled her way back to her feet as she continued to weakly fight against him, which Erron retaliated with an uncaring jerk every so often, earning a pained whimper as he lurched her forward.
As they neared the palace, he briefly noticed her weight go slack and felt teeth sink into his forearm just below the elbow before he got the chance to stop her. Erron's eyes narrowed in anger as he groaned in pain, took advantage that her scarf had fallen back around her neck in the scuffle and grabbed a handful of her hair with his opposite hand. She immediately released her bite from his arm and cried out in pain, her hands going instinctively towards her scalp and scratching at his hands. Erron frowned heavily when he released her wrist, holding her by her hair only, and noticed the blood dotted bite on his arm and scowled at her.
"Are you gonna be a pain in the ass the entire way?" he asked with an irritable sigh.
She still fought him, wiggling as much as she could with his hand painfully wrangled in her hair while she glared at him scathingly. The outlaw narrowed his eyes at her distempered look and responded by pulling back on her hair. It earned another pained yelp from her as her eyes scrunched together, and he felt her nails digging into his hands harder.
"I am not going with you!" she cried with a choked voice, realization seeming to sink in that she wasn't going to escape him.
"Yeah. You are," Erron glowered. He pulled her closer, his eyes boring dangerously into her. "I ain't playin' around. Now are you gonna come without a fuss or am I gonna have to get mean?"
He yanked slightly on her hair to illustrate his point, and she grimaced at him, "Take me to Tama and it will be even more of a reason for me to despise you."
Erron shot an indifferent look at her weak declaration, "Do I look like I care?"
Her eyes softened at him, still with a flicker of fear and resentment for him but pitifully begging now, "Please do not do this..."
He shook his head at her. It was always the same. First, they yelled, fought then they begged, and it didn't earn any pity from him because she was a woman.
"Ain't up to me," Erron pointed out with a shrug, "she's already paid."
She scoffed at him, her body trembling with rage as she scowled viciously at him. "Yes… we both know how much money means to you. I hope you die alone with your fortune."
The muscles in Erron's jaw clenched behind his face mask at her remark. He noticed it took every amount of patience he had to let go of her hair and grab her crushingly by her bicep to pull her along with him. He could feel her eyes on the back of his head, burning a hole into him with complete hatred, but he ignored it and pressed on. She walked along with him, and eventually began stumbling lazily almost in defeat and wincing in pain from his fingers digging into her arm. It wasn't until the palace came into view did, she panic and start to fight him again. Erron felt her jerk backward, trying to release his hold on her bicep and he pulled back hard.
Black released her as she stumbled forward and fell into the sand. With his enmity for her continuously present, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet with her tiredly trying to keep up with his larger and faster paced strides. The Kahn's guard could feel the people that were lingering in the marketplace gawking at them, but he ignored them and continued to pull her along. As he dragged her across the market for all the residents to see he was having a difficult time recollecting a more aggravating time he dragged someone in for a bounty.
"You are hurting me," he heard her tell him, her voice laced with pain.
Instead, he dug his fingers purposely harder into her skin, causing her to hiss loudly.
"I said you were hurting me!" she called out to him, her voice heavy with anger. He felt her flap around like a fish on a hook, and it caused his fingers to loosen enough for her wiggle out of his grasp.
Erron expected her to run, but instead she just stared at him as she shrunk away from him. Her chest rose and fell as she waited in heated reluctance, looking at him like he expected her to lash out again. The thought had crossed his mind until he saw the red mark that encompassed her wrist and started to swell. He pinched the bridge of his nose that was hidden beneath his face mask, mostly in irritation rather than guilt, as he moved to grab her under her arm and pull her along; his grip still firm but not as harsh as it once was.
She didn't continue to fight him at that point, and he figured it was either because she accepted her fate or she was too scared of him to try any longer. Whatever the reason he didn't care.
As he approached the south entrance towards the servant's entrance, he passed by a very confused Osh-Tekk guard that opened the door for them when he saw the two of them. He led her through the laundry area and glanced back to see her defeated and tear-stained face silently staring at the ground. He ignored it, and led them through the laundry, through the gardens and finally to the door frame that Tama had been waiting under.
Erron halted and threw her towards Tama, the sudden and harsh throw causing her fall to her knees in front of her. She stayed on her position on her knees, looking thoroughly humiliated and angered.
The bounty hunter looked to Tama with a stern disposition, "As promised. Where's my money?"
Tama repressed a smile and jerked her thumb in the direction of the kitchen, "Waiting for you in your room, a pleasure doing business with you."
Black walked by the girl, gave a steely glance that she returned with as much animosity and stormed through the kitchen and to his room. Despite accomplishing his job, Erron still felt thoroughly exasperated as he marched through the palace. He scowled angrily behind his face mask and hoped the girl wasn't stupid enough to cross his path anytime soon.
As both women heard him leave, Tama looked at Norah who continued to stay on her position on her hands and knees in front of her. Eventually, after a moment of uncomfortable silence, the girl looked at the older woman with a look that conveyed complete mistrust, anger and hesitance at what to expect next.
Tama merely lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Hungry?"