Chapter Three: Smoke and Illusions
Whiskey yawned and stretched catlike between the sheets next to Ihan. He gazed down at her with adoration, but also some regret. The last month in these rooms rented from a discrete and loyal Innkeeper had been idyllic, but he knew he could only push the expectation of his wife's return to the city by a week. Any more than that would be risking more than his life. His wife was a powerful and cruel woman who could make a man beg to die, just so that she could deny even that mercy.
He made no indication of the looming shadow that would soon storm on their relationship, and the attractive and energetic bartender he'd picked up in Lansovar did not even know he was married. Ihan knew it would be dangerous, but considered setting the girl up in another city to visit whenever she was away. He looked down at the girl's soft grey eyes and not for the first time, regretted ever agreeing to a marriage of power to the daughter of an ambitious nobleman. He'd met his wife on their wedding day, and after the obligatory consummation she alone decided when he was allowed to enter her bed.
His new lover smiled up at him and reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He studied the lines of the vine and leaf tattoo that curled up her arm from the elbow to the shoulder, and traced the fine lines of scars scattered around her body. She'd told him stories of how she'd acquired them, at least those she still remembered. He had a few scars from his childhood, but once he became caught up in the moment he embellished them to trophies of fever-pitched battle on the plains of Ardunn. He was rewarded by her admiration, worth more than the pangs of guilt could destroy.
Whiskey loved Ihan as fiercely after five weeks as she had at the beginning. She thought warmly of the jewelry he'd lavished on her already, and even more warmly of his slow, mysterious smile and quick wit. She leaned up on one elbow impulsively and planted a kiss on the bridge of his nose. He gave a low chuckle and a more traditional kiss before rolling to his feet next to the bed. She watched with some amusement as he strode to the washroom unselfconsciously naked.
"What are we doing for dinner?" she called through the door as she heard the water splashing.
"A surprise m'love. I know how you like those!"
She grinned and shook her head. He was always surprising her with one thing or another.
"Then how am I supposed to know what to wear?"
"I think you're dressed perfectly." He said with a leer as he emerged from the washroom. She looked down at the cotton bed sheet wrapped around her and barked a laugh.
"If I'm to be in the skin I'm in, then are you in skin as well m'dear?"
"Its too early for your riddles and tongue twisters m'love." He replied with a kiss.
"Early? It's after sunset. You know, one of these days I'd like to see the town by daylight."
She began to tidy up the clothing and belongings scattered around the room as she did each time they went out. Her weapons and jewels went under the bed, both for the sake of safety and because the piles of clothing he'd bought her since their arrival took up every other available space. She pulled the box from under the bed and began holding up necklaces to her chest.
"What about this one? Do you like the sapphire?"
"With what dress?"
She shook her head with a teasing smile. "As the jewelry costs more than the dress I should coordinate the clothes to the baubles instead of the other way around."
"Those baubles are indeed expensive, but the dress was nothing to sneeze at."
She poked her tongue out at him, eliciting another chuckle, and picked through the pieces in the box until she found what she was looking for.
"The emeralds I think. I like the new green dress you had made up."
"What happened to selecting the jewels first, then the dress to match?"
"Well in all matters of diplomatic relationships one must maintain willingness to compromise. That's what you said at your last speech was it not?"
"It was, and how dare you mix work with pleasure by tossing that bit of empty silliness back at me."
She laughed at his mock scowl and blew him a kiss.
"Forgive me of course m'love, I promise not to bring up work for the rest of the night."
"Apology, and deal accepted. Now I won..."
He broke off suddenly at a crashing and raised voices downstairs. They could discern footsteps climbing quickly and clumsily up the staircase, and Whiskey had a superstitious flash of some undead creature out of a nightmare approaching. She pulled her weapons belt from under the bed and strapped it around her bare waist, ready to draw a blade if there was a threat. Ihan followed suit, but seemed even more nervous that he should. She could hear a large creature approach the door, then fall against it. Whiskey showed a bare inch of steel. The doorknob rattled for a moment then turned, and the door swung abruptly inward, spilling the Innkeeper into the room. He was covered with blood still flowing from a head wound, but when Ihan and Whiskey both moved to approach him he waved them violently away.
"Ihan...." he began in a hoarse whisper, "Ihan your wife... back early. You must run."
Whiskey was startled into a brittle laugh.
"Your wife? What kind of joke is this Ihan darling?"
She turned to look at him, and saw stark white queasy terror on his face. The truth was written into that expression of fear and Whiskey was chilled to the heart.
"Ihan?"
She took a step towards her and he suddenly dragged his gaze from the dying Innkeeper to her.
"Run Amber, she'll kill us both, or worse. And keep running, and pray she never finds out who you are."
The dark tones set a fear in her that battled with hot rage at his dishonesty. She was saved from the decision of whether to attack him, insult him or cry by the sound of more footsteps on the stairs, most of them heavily booted. She headed towards the closet to throw on the first clothing she could find, when the doorway filled with people.
A small, composed woman was in front. She might have been pretty if not for the look of cold steel in her eyes and the set pursed line of her lips. Amber froze. The woman was followed by several well-armed men who carried themselves as if they knew how to use what they carried. Amber sized up the odds, then edged back towards the room's only window. The woman saw them both, but the only change in her expression was a slight tightening of the jaw. She stepped over the Innkeeper as if she didn't see him. With no more signal than a flick of her eyes, the guard to her left grinned and placed one foot on the Innkeeper's neck, adding pressure until the man's face was purple. Ihan took a half step forward in protest.
"Willhemena...."
She smiled, and in response the guard bore down his full weight and twisted the heel. A wet snapping sound echoed around the chamber as the Innkeeper's neck broke, and his rattled breathing filled the air for only a few seconds more.
The woman nodded in satisfaction, then turned her cold gaze to Amber. Ihan took another reluctant half step forward.
"Willhemena, please, I beg you....she didn't even know I was married."
For the first time, an expression thawed the woman's face, although the composed blankness was preferable to the mad half-smile she gave Ihan.
"Beg me, husband? Yes, you will beg for many things."
She turned around and strode serenely from the room, while the guards parted automatically for her passing, then closed in to fill the gap. Amber thought of waves parting before a ship, and as they were thus distracted, she made eye contact with Ihan. He was shaking and pale, but when she made a barely perceptible flick of her eyes towards the window, she saw an answering gleam.
They broke at the same time. Amber tumbled across the bed rather than cut around, and scooped up the box of jewelry as she rolled. She also snagged both their coin purses from the end table as it passed within reach. Ihan was already scrambling down the thick ivy clinging to the stone beneath their window. Amber tucked the box of jewels under the belt she wore, clamped the strings of the money pouches in her teeth, and dove out the window. She broke her fall by clutching at ivy, and rolled on the landing to regain her feet. She limped a few paces before her jarred joints recovered, and waited around a darkened corner for Ihan to make it down the wall.
She heard the Inn door slam and chanced a quick glance around the corner. Ihan's wife had emerged from the Inn with two men in robes. Ihan jumped the last five feet of the climb, and straightened to find himself facing the trio. He paled again and backed a few steps. Amber steeled herself to draw her blades and rush the group, possibly to her death, when the robed figure to the woman's left began casting. Amber chanced another look, and saw Ihan stiffen. He looked wildly around the square and shouted,
"Amber! Run!"
As the robed figure finished his incantations, Ihan slumped to the ground in a heap. The woman nodded in satisfaction. When the guards came rushing down they took up his still body and bound it. They then gathered around the woman, who spoke to them in a calm, firm voice.
"Spread out gentlemen. Find her or you join him."
Amber chilled, and faded back into the shadows. She crept far enough down the alley that her footsteps would not be heard, and ran. She could hear the sound of the search fading behind her. When she first stopped to catch her breath, she noticed a curtain stir behind her. Realizing an armed, naked, tattooed woman running through the streets would cause comment to track her by, she moved another block and liberated shirt, pants, stockings, and cloak from a clothesline. She dressed in the shadows but tucked the socks in her pocket for when she could acquire shoes of some kind. She pulled the hood of the cloak up to hide her face and hair, and slipped from shadow to shadow to the city's edge.
She was chilled to see a roadblock at the usually unmanned guard station. She ducked back into an ally to watch, and saw several men resembling those in her room at the Inn shining a lantern into each face and searching each wagon. Drawing in her breath she faded back into the city. Just before dawn, when her gray cloak blended into the dew-soaked stone of the city walls, she climbed barefoot over the top, and set off across the pastureland.
At the first crossroads she came to she approached the local Inn with weary, footsore relief. As she reached out to touch the door she was confronted by a chilling sketch of herself plastered on the door. The shock of recognition held her frozen for a moment before her eyes traveled downwards and saw the reward notice.
"How did they get here so fast? By the Gods, this woman is powerful." She thought to herself. With a quick glance around her she saw that no one was watching. The town seemed to all but close down in the lazy high-heat of the afternoon. She quickly tore the poster from the door and stuffed it in her belt before moving on.
She turned at every crossroads she came to, but it was days before she found a town without posters. Even then she left her hood up as she entered the general store. She had enough in her pouch to buy a pair of supple leather boots, soft on her sore feet, but springy enough to make walking pleasant. She also purchased a bedroll, backpack, and other camping supplies, reluctantly admitting that Inns in general may be dangerous until she hit Lansovar again. She found quite a bit of money left in Ihan's purse, and between that and the jewelry, felt justified in splurging on a few luxuries. She bought a better-fitting outfit that would hold up on the journey, a set of leather armor in case she did come across the flyer-posters, and a good horse to speed her way. In the interest of making even the wilderness as civilized as possible, she also purchased a bottle of decent whiskey, a leather flask, two shot glasses made of cured and coated leather, and some potion vials of lemon juice. She hesitated before adding a bottle of good Madrezarian wine to the stack. After all, if she needed information it was a good tool. Feeling expansive and nostalgic, she tossed a deck of cards onto the purchase pile, hoping it would help her pass the time.
Her new outfitting took a good deal of the money in both pouches, leaving her only a dozen gold coins and a scant handful of silver. She patted the jewelry box carefully, tucking it deep into her backpack to prevent pick-pocketing. When she continued on the road, she found the horse's pace easy, and the weather warm enough to be comfortable. Lonely for human company, she kept herself company and sang her entire repertoire of drinking songs, some quietly, others at a bellow, until her voice was only a squeak.
She continued cross-country for two weeks before her money ran low enough for her to consider selling the jewelry. She had avoided it before, feeling as if selling it would be disloyal to Ihan's memory. He must surely be dead by then. But necessity outranked nostalgia and she entered the next jeweler she came across.
The man took some time to examine the first piece. When he finished, he looked up at Amber with a cool, but slightly hostile tone.
"And what is it you're trying to pull over on me?"
Amber looked confused, losing her assumed attitude of confident boredom so that the shopkeeper did not know she was desperate for the money.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't give me that innocent look girlie, I'm sure you know the penalty for passing on fakes as real gems."
Amber's world swam, and what she'd seen as a foundation suddenly crumbled. She could only stare open-mouthed at the shop-keeper. The man was disconcerted at her obvious shock, and more so when she slumped suddenly to the floor against the counter. He shouted for help and hurried around the counter where she sat with her head between her knees, shaking it in wonder. The man patted her shoulder awkwardly.
"I'm sorry, I assumed you knew they were fake, do you need some water miss?"
Amber shook her head again and sat up to rest it against the counter, looking upwards. After a moment of considering the long string of events leading up to this moment of rock-bottom, she saw in it a spark of humor. She began to chuckle, then laugh hysterically. She laughed until her ribs ached and tears flowed from her eyes. The shopkeeper's wife and son came down from their living space to see what the commotion was, and after studying Amber's laughter for a scant second the wife slapped her lightly on both cheeks, shocking her out of her hysteria. Amber closed her eyes and took a long, shuddering breath. When she opened them again she was calm, although there was a certain brittleness to that calm. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and struggled to her feet. The shopkeep's wife hovered nearby, wavering between anxiety for this girl found crying in their shop, and suspicion for her mental stability. Amber nodded to her with a rueful smile.
"Thanks for that, I needed it."
The wife nodded and finally relaxed. Amber looked hopelessly at the box of jewelry.
"Are they worth anything at all?"
The shopkeeper gave an encouraging nod.
"Not as much as they'd be if they were real, but they're really good imitations and there is some demand for that sort of thing.
"How much?"
The shopkeeper carefully examined each piece, and while she held back a slim hope that one might be real, she was too practical to expect it. When the shopkeeper finished he looked up at her and ran one hand through what remained of his hair.
"I can give you fifty gold for it all."
Amber was numb to more shocks, so the drop in value of several hundred thousand gold did not even touch her. It was something. She nodded in acceptance and he counted out the coins. She left with a jaunty salute of thanks, and rode away. That night in celebration she finished the whiskey bottle, alternately toasting and cursing Ihan and his wife with every shot, until she was roaring at the moon and setting off dogs barking in the distance. As a final crescendo, she smashed the empty bottle in her campfire and collapsed on the bedroll beside the coals.