AN: I have never written anything in this genre. Please have a little patience with me and my characters. They'll develope into more complicated beings after a while, I promise. If anything in this story is similar to something someone else has written then I do want to assure you that this has happened by accident. Enjoy reading this first chapter of many more to come.
- A Life of Second Chances -
Chapter one
The cold wind blew hard across the landscape and no trees were there to block it. A single person appeared in the distance. A woman. She pulled her cloak tighter around her in the vain hope to keep herself warm.
Her auburn hair whipped around her head like a flame. She struggled on and kept her eyes down. In her pocket a tight packet reminded her of her purpose.
She lifted her head and finally saw the city gates ahead of her. Her destination. Jabol city. The biggest and bussiest merchant centre in the country.
A faint smile crossed her face but faded again when she heard the churchbells chime. The clock struck eight and she was running late. Hurriedly she walked on and knocked on the gate when she reached it.
A man opened a small hatch and peered through it from the other side.
"Yes?"
"I'm here for the tournament." She said, trying to get her voice to rise above the howling of the wind.
The man looked at her curiously. She knew he was wondering what kind of business a young girl like her could have with the tournament.
"Not to participate, surely." He asked her.
"My business is my own." She said harshly. "And I do not appreciate your aksing about it, sir."
He shrugged. "Alright, alright. I was only askin'."
His face disappeared and after a few moments the gate opened to let her in. She didn't offer the guard another look and hurried through the streets, glancing at the church as she went by.
A quick and silent prayer escaped her lips, hoping she was still on time. She looked around and stopped the nearest person.
"Excuse me, sir." She quickly bobbed a curtsy. "I'm looking for the tavern."
"It's right over there. Just walk straight on and you'll see the sign hanging above the door."
"Thank you." She bobbed another curtsy and hurried on.
She could hear music coming from inside. This was a good sign. If a bard thought it worth while to hang around in a tavern at this hour then there would still be a lot of people inside. And if there were a lot of people still there...
She opened the door and closed it behind her quickly. The doorman looked at her curiously, but she ignored him.
The warmth greeted her and she closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy it. This was a bad idea. Immediately she whipped around and grabbed the hand that had just tried to reach into her pocket, trying to steal her purse.
It was a small boy, but he had a defiant look on his face as if he wasn't embarrassed about being caught. She tightened her grip and handed him to the doorman.
"This young boy tried to rob me. I trust you'll see to him." She said calmly.
She spoke with such authority that the doorman didn't hesitate to obey her. She turned around again and grinned. No little boy should try to beat her at her own game.
At the end of the room she could see a big table with a shortening row of people in front of it. She headed to the bar and listened to the innkeeper talking to a guest.
"Really? I thought that this diamond treasure was only a myth."
"Oh no. No, the treasure of Laek truly exists! As a matter of fact, the king's guards are bringing it to Marek in a week or so. That's what I heard."
The innkeeper nodded slowly and then noticed the girl at the bar, motioning him to come closer.
"I'm looking for master Writath." She said in a low voice.
The innkeeper looked at her strangely. "Master Writath?"
"He is also known as Sharkface by many. Perhaps you, too, know him by this name?"
The man's face lit up. "Oh! You mean him ..."
His eyes dashed to a tall, round man near the fireplace and quickly returned to her.
"I'm sorry, young lady. But he's not here right now."
She was silent for a second. "...I thank you for your trouble, kind sir."
She turned around and walked past the long table, straight to the fireplace.
"Master Writath?" she said.
The man turned around slowly. He took a long look at her.
"Who asks?"
"I was told in my village that you were a man who likes to participate in large bets."
He turned back to his company and laughed. "So the young lady wishes to bet? Well, well..."
She didn't flinch at his patronising tone of voice.
"And how much do you wish to lose, little girl."
"I do not intend to lose. I intend to triple my bet." She retorted calmly.
She threw her money pouch on the table abd stared at him defiantly.
"This is the amount of money I want to bet. 1750 gold pieces."
The man turned back to his company and roared with laughter. "1750 gold pieces! My, a fortune!"
Suddenly he snapped back and grabbed her wrist. His smile had gone and suddenly she understood why he was called Sharkface. Two rows of razor sharp teeth could be seen when he looked at her.
"Tell me, girl. Do you know what happens to those who lose and can't pay me back? Did they tell you that in your village?"
She tried to pull her arm back and swallowed difficultly. "They say you have no mercy for those people. They say the last man who lost to you ended up a corpse on a stick, left for the birds and fiends to eat."
"And this doesn't scare you? It would be a shame to see a pretty face like yours being picked clean by crows, don't you think?"
She stepped back. "I intend not to lose, sir. I have already chosen my amount of money and who to bet it on. And I know I will win, now will you accept the wager or not?"
"My, my, my...you do seem confident. Alright then, I'll play along. After all, what is 1750 gold pieces to me? Nothing worth mentioning in my books."
His company laughed loudly, including the lady who was hanging from his arm.
"Well, come on then. Are you going to tell us who it is you're going to bet on?"
She lifted her chin up in the air. "Pavel."
A sudden silence fell over the table.
"Sir Pavel?"
"Is he competing?"
Writath didn't seem impressed. "Who is this man?"
The lady next to him gasped.
"Sir Pavel is one of the mightiest men around. An old knight of king Laek. They even say he has some blue blood in him himself!" she said breathlessly. "No man has ever faced him and lived. To oppose him you have to be a real fool."
Writath turned back to the girl and seemed to ponder. "...A bet with an edge. You have a taste for quality, girl. I like it. You've got a deal. And tomorrow we'll see if this Pavel is as good as the rumours say he is."
He handed her back her pouch.
"Here. Go to the table and talk to the boy. He'll take your money and put it away safely so no harm will come to it."
She nodded and stepped back slowly.
"I look forward to receive my winnings tomorrow." She said.
Behind her the group laughed again. But she laughed just as hard. She would win the bet and he would have to tripple her money and she would get away with a brilliant plan. Tomorrow she would be a rich lady.
The boy behind the table called for the next person in line. She stepped in front of a man with a black beard without the slightest bit of embarressement. However nervous he was, he didn't object.
She turned to the boy and handed him the pouch.
"Can I help you?" the boy said.
"You most certainly can." She answered back.
She looked at him for a moment. He was about her age, but she could see he was definitely a few years younger.
"I'd like to place a bet."
"And how much money would you like to deposit, miss...?"
"Robin. Like the bird." She said sweetly.
The boy blushed and wrote the name down. "And your deposit would be how much?"
"1750 gold pieces."
He looked up. "1750?"
"Yes. Against Writath."
"Excuse me, miss. But you shouldn't bet against Sharkface. He's the most vicious man around. You can't beat him!"
She smiled. His worrying was sweet.
"Listen...?"
"Ahro."
"Listen Ahro...I have a fool proof plan. I know what I'm doing and this way I can earn some money."
Hesitantly he wrote the amount of money down. "Well then, miss Robin. You've just wagered 1750 gold pieces against Writath. Who will you be betting on?"
"Ah, yes. You can write the name Pavel down on your list."
"Pavel?"
He seemed shocked.
"Now there's my fool proof plan, Ahro. Have a nice evening."
She smiled at him, waved and walked away. Ahro stared at her. She was so sure of what she was doing that he was convinced she might even win the bet. But no one won from Writath. Ever.
He took her pouch and carefully locked it in a safe. From the doorway he could see her wave at him. Or maybe it was meant for someone else. But he felt a little shiver go down his spine.
"I'd like to enlist for tomorrow's tournament." said the man with the black beard, waking Ahro from his thoughts.
"Oh...yes. Name please."
"Sir Pavel."
Calandra took off her cloak and draped it over the chair near to window. She shivered a little and sat down on the bed, rolling out a bundle of cloth. A row of little iron picks and needles revealed themselves and she began to inspect them.
A sudden knock on her door startled her. She threw her cloak over the picks and straightened her dress.
She opened the door. A man with a black beard stood in the opening, grinning.
"Finnean! Finally!"
She hugged him tightly and planted a kiss on his brow.
He smiled. "Are you going to let me in?"
She stepped aside and closed the door behind him.
"Well, well, well...never thought I'd see you in a dress again."
"Well, I can hardly walk up to that guy wearing my normal clothes, can I. He'd get a bit suspicious, wouldn't he."
Finnean nodded. "And of course, the most important rule; always blend in, never stand out."
Calandra smiled. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Yes. My armour is ready and tomorrow the mighty Pavel will enter the ring, causing all to shudder with fear for the mighty one before them. They will step down in fear of their life and the victory shall be ours."
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I hope so. You won't stand a chance against those warriors tomorrow. If they don't step aside...you'll probably die..."
He pulled her close to him. "Don't worry, my love. We're doing what we do best. When has one of our plans ever failed? Tomorrow we will be rich. All I want you to do is have the horses ready in time."
She sighed. "Alright. I believe in you. I trust you."
He kissed her forehead. "I love you."
He touched the necklace around her neck. A leather band with a silver emblem. A gift he had given her years ago.
"...You are leaving?" she asked when he pulled away from her.
"Yes, I have some business to attend to first. But you'll see me at the tournament tomorrow."
He stepped outside again.
"It'll be fine." He said before closing the door.
Calandra nodded. After all, they had always succeeded in their plans. No one had ever caught them yet.
That was my first chapter. I hope to get some reviews on it. And i'll post the second one soon enough!