This section is probably ample proof that I watch way too much Game of Thrones. At least it came in handy. Still: damn you, Littlefinger, you horrible man.

I read through these frequently to check for mistakes, but I don't always spot them. I think faster than I type, and as a self-taught typist I can be a bit inaccurate. If anybody spots a typo or five, feel free to point them out either by review or message, I'd be grateful.


Chapter Four

Princess of Nothing

Mirana took a deep, calming breath before she knocked on the black door. Marci kept looking over her shoulder at the street behind them. It was the perfect spot for an ambush. All it would take were a few crossbows pointed in the right direction.

A narrow slot in the door opened and a single, hostile eye peered at them. 'Yes?'

'We're here to see Nikdo.' Mirana answered.

'Says who?'

'Gwanwyn recommended him. Tell him that Mirana is here. It's about the lotuses.'

The slot closed and Mirana heard a bolt sliding. The large man on the other side opened the door fully, his single eye bloodshot and fierce. The other eye had been replaced by a leather patch. 'This way.' He began to stomp down the narrow corridor. Mirana and Marci followed him into a slightly wider room where another thickset man—with both eyes this time—sat waiting for them.

'Nikdo?' Mirana asked.

He shook his head. 'Your weapons.' He jabbed a wide finger at the table.

Mirana unslung her bow, detached her quiver and dagger from her belt, and placed them obediently on the table. Marci reached down, pulled the dagger from her boot, and that too joined the pile.

The man jerked his head at his one-eyed colleague, who clumped back up to watch the entrance. The man at the table reached back and thumped the wall behind him. With a grinding of stone and iron gears, the wall slid into a small recess. Two more large men stood waiting for them. Mirana noticed the assortment of clubs, axes and knives on their belts.

If she was wrong about this, she and Marci could be in mortal danger.

She almost scoffed at the thought. She might be in mortal danger. Marci, not so much.

The rough walls of the previous chamber gave way to smoother, sculpted décor as they made their way down under the street. This was a different world, and neither of them liked what they beheld.

The place was more of a brothel than a black market. Mirana had anticipated a bustling space reminiscent of a trade market, only seedier and more dangerous. This was worse. Mirana was more knowledgeable than some nobles and royals, and still she felt disgusted. She had to wonder just how many of the employees here were willing. Did they do it for money? To pay off debts? Or were they addicted to narcotics and alcohol to make them more pliable?

Marci gave her hand a subtle squeeze. Mirana steeled herself. They were going to get through this. As much as they might have wanted to tear the place apart, they had a job to do.

Even so, she could not help but morbidly wonder what it might be like to have to work here. How did these women so readily give themselves to men they did not know? How could they sell their bodies for someone else's benefit?

Faint moans and the scent of cheap perfume assailed them as they made their way through a large chamber with recesses screened by thin, filmy pink curtains. The curtains did little more than turn the people within into vague shadows, their movements all too noticeable and obvious.

Marci flushed and looked down at her feet, trying to ignore the sounds. In some ways, Marci was more confident and outgoing than Mirana. This was all alien to her, however, and just as repulsive.

Maybe it would put her off Davion. That might not be such a bad thing. She had been less focused than Mirana would have liked, and she knew that it was because of Davion. Yes, he was handsome and strong, and she supposed that he was kind and oddly charming, but he was also a distraction. No matter what Marci thought, he should not have been their problem in the first place.

Mirana reproached herself. Marci had as much right to be happy as she did. Sometimes she kept slipping into the role of a superior and forgot that Marci was her only true friend, not a servant. No matter what people thought, Marci had never really been an inferior to her.

Her heart was in the right place. Mirana had to admit that in many ways, Marci was a much better person than she was.

The next chamber was not dissimilar from what Mirana had expected in the first place. It was like a bazaar, but one stocked with anything and everything illegal. Merchants clamoured to sell narcotics, dangerous beasts and even slaves here.

Marci glowered at the slavers, and Mirana heard her knuckles cracking as she clenched her fists. Mirana sympathised, she really did, but they could not do anything about this now. Even though Marci had never been a slave, she had always felt the need to stick up for people who couldn't defend themselves.

And it had come with a price.

After another minute, they finally reached a lavishly appointed room with two wide couches and enough fancy ornaments to make a rich nobleman jealous.

'Nikdo will be with you soon.' One of the thugs grunted, closing the doors behind them.

Mirana sat down on the nearest couch. Marci paced around, seemingly examining the ornaments but actually searching for concealed threats. When the doors at the other end of the chamber opened, she returned to Mirana's side and remained standing.

Nikdo was a portly man, wrapped in rich robes. As refined as he tried to look, both Mirana and Marci could see the viper hidden under the guise of a wise patron.

Marci flexed her fingers, her eyes watchful. Nikdo was a man who felt most secure when backed by stronger underlings—men who could kill without remorse, but had no cunning or ambition. A small cluster of them had followed him into the room, not bothering to conceal their weapons.

Nikdo sat opposite Mirana, his eyes running across her figure. 'I am Master Nikdo. I am told that you wish something of me, Priestess Mirana.'

'Information.' Mirana answered, not liking the way Nikdo assessed Marci next. He looked amused.

'Regarding those precious lotuses of yours?' Nikdo tented his fingers and leaned forwards. 'And what will you give me for such a valuable commodity?'

'I am the most favoured of Selemene. She will be grateful to you.'

'Mmm. I imagine that She would be. But as desirable as that sounds, I can think of a better exchange.'

A familiar figure strode through the doors. Mirana and Marci both recognised the sallow, pointed face with its sly grin. They also recognised the swirling silver and gold bracelet he was holding.

Gwanwyn's grin expanded as he looked upon them. 'Master Nikdo, allow me to introduce you to her Royal Highness Mirana, once Princess of the Moon, once Princess of the Sun, and now the Princess of nothing.' He indicated Marci dismissively. 'Oh, and her ever so silent friend. Quick on her feet, but soft in the head. What was the name? Mary? Marri? Something like that, I suppose it won't matter for long.'

Marci did not rise to the bait. Two more thugs had followed Gwanwyn inside and they had loaded crossbows at the ready.

Gwanwyn walked over and propped one foot on the couch, leaning close to Mirana. Marci was aching to strike him, but Mirana subtly shook her head. Nikdo's men would shoot her dead if she tried anything. They did not see Marci as valuable, it was Mirana they wanted alive.

'I told you that finding things for wealthy people was lucrative.' Gwanwyn sneered. 'And it just so happens that I know a rich man from the Helio Imperium who wants to see you so very badly: your uncle, I believe.'

'We should have let the mob kill you.' Mirana growled.

'Yes, you should have. That would have been better for you.' He removed Mirana's tiara and examined it covetously. 'Hindsight is funny, is it not? So full of revelations, and so utterly useless at the same time.'

'Take them down below.' Nikdo instructed. 'Make sure they're comfortable.'

The thugs drew their weapons and moved in.


The smith was busy hammering away at a smouldering length of steel when Davion arrived. He waited until the smith had quenched it before clearing his throat for attention.

'Davion.' The man did not sound pleased to see him.

'I've got some business for you.' Davion announced brightly. 'I happen to need a sword.'

'Ain't making swords today.'

'An axe then?'

'Not making weapons today.'

'Axes can be used as tools.'

'No weapons today. Sorry.'

'Huh.' Davion looked round at the racks arrayed around the smithy. What the smith would not make, he could surely barter for. There was a nice looking warsword on one rack, but he would settle for a simple dagger if he had to. 'Well, I haven't got any coin. But this might be worth something.' He held up the ring.

The blacksmith gulped. 'Not worth my life, friend.'

'Come on! You could always melt it down, and they'll never know.'

'Do you know who these people are, Davion?' The smith put down his hammer. It dropped off the anvil with a loud clang. The smith did not bother to pick it up. 'The guards can't stop them. They're like ghosts when they don't want to be found, and they're like rabid wolves when they're angry. You killed some of their people, and they never forgive anybody who crosses them. They're also after whoever killed another of their bunches.'

'Are you sure that's not me too?'

'No.'

'Why so sure?'

'Well... they found what was left of them.'

'I'm not a cannibal.'

'Then where are the bodies?'

'I don't know.'

The blacksmith grunted and picked up his hammer again. 'Watch your back, Davion.'

'Can't you help me at all?'

'Davion,' the man sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from his dirty brow. 'You know that I like you. It's bad of me to say this: but you need to leave. If you have any sense, you'll run. Find a nice place to hide. Get far away from this city.'

'I can't do that.' Davion muttered. 'I can't.'

The smith shook his head. 'You're a brave man, Davion. I wish I could help you. But it's not worth my family's life.' He turned back to his forge. 'I'm sorry, Davion. That's all I can say.'

Davion turned the ring over in his fingers. 'Do you know who killed the other ones? The ones whose bodies they found?'

'No. There was this funny rumour going round though.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. Some twit said that some of them were beaten up, as in beaten to death.'

Davion frowned. Who went around beating bandits to death? 'Seriously?'

'Seriously. Apparently one was ripped up, the others stuck with arrows.'

Davion felt a lurch in his stomach. Could it have been... no. Mirana had a bow, yes, and she had a pet night beast, but that did not explain the rumour of bandits being beaten up. Maybe somebody else had killed them, using some sort of blunt weapon.

Davion left the shop, irritated by the rumours labelling him as a monster and full of dread knowing that he would likely be dead in a few hours. Why was it that time flew by so quickly when the end was drawing near?

This was turning out to be a really bad day.


This was turning out to be a really good day.

Nikdo knew that Gwanwyn was a slippery one, but the man had delivered and delivered well. Not only would he get a substantial amount of coin from the Emperor of the Helio Imperium, he would gain a new "employee". He had yet to decide what to do with the strange mute who trailed Mirana like an overly devoted dog, but there were many possibilities.

The slavers always paid for bodies, and were never fussy about quality. So she might not be any use in a salt mine, but she might be useful on a farm. The mute probably couldn't carry a tune though, and Nikdo was actually curious. Why did a Princess have somebody like her traipsing around after her?

He stopped pondering and assumed that she simply did chores for the Princess. Surely even former royals needed servants. They expected others to look after them.

As for what he would do with her... he thought he would send her upstairs, to "entertain" new patrons. If she was no good at that or nobody wanted her, it would be off to the slavers.

'The Emperor will be most pleased with us.' Nikdo remarked as they journeyed down to the cells.

'I care more for his coin than his gratitude.' Gwanwyn said.

'Rich men express their gratitude with coin. It is their gratitude.'

'I don't trust him.'

'You're selling him the Princess. He's been looking for her for years, ever since he heard that she lived.'

Gwanwyn nodded, deep in thought. 'Yes. But I have heard what he's done to those who cross him.' He was silent for a moment, introspective and pensive. 'Do you know what he did to the servants and guards who helped her?'

'Killed them, I would assume.'

'Yes, but not in the ways you might.'

Nikdo did nothing to disabuse Gwanwyn of this notion. He was a criminal, a successful one, and he planned to remain so. If the odd person had to be stabbed, poisoned, beaten to death, drowned, fed to the wolves, so be it. He slept easily enough. Some people rested well on a good conscience, his calm sleep came from knowing that his coffers were full. That his enterprises caused misery to others was of no concern to him.

'So what did he do to them?' Nikdo asked.

'According to the rumours, all sorts of terrible things. He had one lot, an entire family no less, hacked up with cleavers. Most of them went to the kennels, but he made sure to put the heads on spikes. He left them there until they rotted.' Gwanwyn actually shuddered. 'It's all rumour, of course. But it does make me wonder...'

'Wonder what?' Nikdo was becoming a little tired of the elf. He hoped he was not about to sprout some sort of belated moral compass.

'That mute girl. My sources say she was with the Princess when she arrived in the Nightsilver Woods. Maybe she helped her to flee the Imperium.'

'If you're thinking of selling her off to the Imperium too, remember that we had a deal.' Nikdo's voice had dropped lower in warning.

'Oh, of course, my friend. The Emperor won't be interested in a mute servant. I doubt he even knew she existed.'

Not that many people knew the truth about Mirana. She'd done her best to shed her previous identity, even joining the service of Selemene.

But when the past was driven by men like the Emperor of the Helio Imperium, it could catch up quickly. Too quickly.


Mirana and Marci had been taken down to a series of cells and left behind the steel bars. Marci had suggested breaking out, but Mirana had told her to wait. Marci was going to need her strength for what came next.

Marci lay on her back on the narrow bench on the other side of the cell, her hands clasped atop her stomach. She seemed to be dozing.

'Marci?'

Marci opened her eyes and turned her head. Just resting her eyes then. She would have been slower to respond otherwise.

'Are you ready?'

Marci nodded and lifted a clenched fist.

'Just watch out for those crossbows.'

Marci nodded again and went back to staring at the ceiling.

'I can't believe that he found us.' Mirana leaned back and shut her eyes. 'I thought we were safe. I thought we could start again. How did it all go so wrong, Marci?'

Marci stood up and walked to her. She sat down next to Mirana and held her hands, looking at her with words unspoken yet plain to read in her eyes.

Mirana managed a smile. 'We might be in danger again, but I'm glad you're here, Marci.'

Marci smiled sweetly at that.

'How touching.' They both stood as Gwanwyn strode into view.

He was followed by Nikdo and his group of brutish underlings. They unlocked the cell and hauled the duo out to stand before their boss.

'I hope you enjoy your journey, Princess.' Nikdo sneered. 'Gwanwyn will accompany you personally, but I'm afraid that your little servant will be staying here with me as a guest. Though who knows? Maybe she will get to see some more of the world, though not of her own free will.'

'It's not like she has much of that now,' Gwanwyn mused cruelly. 'Perhaps life as a slave will be just like serving you, Princess.'

Marci restrained herself from glowering at them. Right now, she had to look as unthreatening as possible.

'I warn you, Master Nikdo,' Mirana grated, her eyes harsh, 'leave Marci alone.'

Nikdo chuckled. 'How dangerous can one mute girl be?'

'If you let us go now, we will not cause you any trouble.'

Gwanwyn shook his head. 'Is that the best you can do?'

'As amusing as this is, I have work to do.' Nikdo gestured to one of his men. 'Is there is space for another whore? Good. I'd like to see how quickly my new investment brings in coin.'

Mirana blanched. 'Bastard!'

Nikdo chuckled. 'Don't worry, Princess. Your servant may not be a classic beauty like you, but men will pay to try something new.' He nodded. 'Gwanwyn, take the Princess. No, wait a moment.' He sneered evilly at Mirana. 'I suppose your little friend will need breaking in, won't she?'

'Are you suggesting...' The thought was too repulsive, too abhorrent, for Mirana to finish. 'You wouldn't!'

'Why ever not? I find that it helps to keep my employees... compliant.'

'I'll go first, Master Nikdo.' One of the thugs seized Marci's slim arm and dragged her towards a storeroom. 'Just need some privacy. Won't be a moment.'

Mirana watched the door slam shut and heard the bolt slide into place. She turned a chilling glare on Nikdo. 'You've just made a grave mistake, Master Nikdo.'

Nikdo scoffed. 'An unarmed mute who cannot weigh more than a bag of spuds won't be much trouble.'

Mirana smiled knowingly and coldly in response.

Nikdo had let his guard down badly, and his men had not brought any crossbows with them this time.


The thug pushed Marci against the wall and grinned. 'My favourite part of the job.'

She did not appear to be scared. If anything, she seemed to be impatient.

He didn't like that, but he supposed that she was too soft in the head to understand what was happening. He'd never had a mute before. It might be fun. At least it would be relatively quiet. He looked down and started to tug at his breeches.

A small, pale hand touched his arm. Calloused fingertips encircled his wrist. Was she trying to help him? What the hell was wrong with her?

It was then that he noticed the bruises across her knuckles. He looked up to see the contempt written all over her face and the loathing in her eyes.

The pressure on his wrist tightened.


They all heard the screaming. What they did not hear was the popping of bones which had caused it. The next scream was curiously strained. And it was obviously not the mute girl.

They turned just in time to see the door shatter into splinters as the thug who had wanted to "break" Marci flew through it. He collided with the wall, breaking his back and cracking open his skull.

Marci ambled through the broken door, looked to the brutes arrayed around Mirana, rolled her neck and shoulders, then lifted a hand. She beckoned them over insolently, anger and disgust hardening her eyes.

One of them took the challenge at face value, disregarding the fact that he had just seen his friend thrown through a solid wood door and smashed against a wall. He just could not comprehend the possibility that this petite young woman had killed a man almost twice her size, in height and girth.

He was the next to die. Marci seized his arm as he tried to punch her, then swung him into the bars of the cell. He slid down them, blood and brains coating the bar his head had struck.

The next man drew a knife. 'I'll gut you for that, little bitch!'

The knife proved useless to him. Marci easily took it from him and sank it into his heart.

Mirana heard Gwanwyn gasp. He started to run as fast as his lanky legs could carry him. Mirana ran after him and tackled him. Gwanwyn's chin smacked into the ground and he yelped, then tried to shake Mirana off.

Mirana adjusted her position to prevent Gwanwyn from using his limbs. Gwanwyn winced, bending his neck to look round at her. 'You cannot escape forever, Princess! He will find you again!'

'He can try.' Mirana growled.

Gwanwyn suddenly grinned. Mirana noticed that he was staring past her and looked over her shoulder. She saw a man sneaking up behind Marci as she pummelled one of his friends, a stiletto in his grasp. Marci had not seen him, but she had just finished off her latest foe.

Mirana whistled twice, sharply.

Marci ripped the knife from the twitching corpse of her third victim and flung it sidearm. It struck her would-be-murderer in the eye, travelling deep into his skull. He fell back silently, the blade falling from his hand.

Nikdo swore and seized a fallen club. Marci turned smoothly and rammed her foot into the man's knee. There was a horrible snapping sound and Nikdo went down screaming, his lower leg flopping grotesquely. The broken bone protruded from his flesh.

Nikdo, his face now wet with tears of pain, made the mistake of pulling a dagger from his robes. If he had surrendered, Marci would have spared his life. Yes, he disgusted her, but she was not cold-blooded.

But he had sealed his fate. Marci lifted her foot and brought it down, hard.

Mirana could not suppress a wince as she heard the bones in Nikdo's neck snap. He'd been a horrible man who would not have hesitated to put Marci to all sorts of vile uses for the sake of coin. She did not regret his death.

What she did regret was that she had been forced to let Marci kill for her once again. She had saved herself as well, but it was her devotion to Mirana which motivated her.

Marci paused to wipe the blood off her hands and face with a discarded cloth, shook her arms to relieve the tension, and strode over to Mirana. Gwanwyn was wide-eyed with fear now. Mirana understood his terror.

She had certainly been shocked when Marci had first demonstrated her ability, and it had scared Marci too at the time. She could still remember seeing the man hit the wall, hear his bones breaking, the sound of his last, gurgling gasp still horribly memorable.

She could still remember seeing Marci standing there, staring at her own fist, shocked by what she had done. It had been the first time she had killed for Mirana.

It had been the first time she had killed somebody. Today's deaths would not be the last she caused either.

'You still scare me a little when you do that.' Mirana admitted quietly.

Marci shrugged. They'd had it coming. Mirana might not have liked having Marci kill people for her sake, but Marci felt that she should have made an exception this time. These had been evil men, and Marci did not regret ending their lives.

Mirana slid off Gwanwyn and turned him over, quickly making sure that he was unarmed. 'You're going to tell me where my lotuses are. Now.'

'I don't know!' Gwanwyn cried, his voice high and shrill.

'You can tell me,' Mirana uttered coldly, 'or Marci can force it out of you. Your choice.'

Marci placed her foot atop Gwanwyn's hand. She looked so menacing in that moment that his bladder loosened. 'The shopkeeper! Talk to the shopkeeper!'

Mirana wrinkled her nose. 'Specifics, Gwanwyn. Give me specifics, or Marci will break your fingers. Normally, she wouldn't. Normally, she's such a sweet person. But she is very angry with you.'

Marci put a little more pressure on Gwanwyn's fingers. He gibbered and yelped.

'And I'm sure that she wouldn't mind breaking your arms next, then your legs, and perhaps she might even break your back for good measure. I assure you, she's skilled enough to do all of that without killing you. Do you want to end up as a broken cripple?'

'No! Please don't! Don't let her do it!'

'Then talk!'

'Magpie's Roost! That's where you'll find him. If anything like your lotuses passes through the area, he'll know about it!'

Mirana plucked her tiara and bracelet from Gwanwyn's belt. 'If we see you again, Gwanwyn... do I need to tell you what will happen?'

Gwanwyn swallowed and quivered in response.

'Good.' Mirana stalked away.

Granwyn closed his eyes and sobbed again.

'Gwanwyn.'

The elf gulped and looked up at her, his eyes wide with fright.

'If you tell my uncle anything about us, I will kill you.'

Gwanwyn nodded and closed his eyes. He winced with Marci's every footstep as she walked calmly past him, ignoring her throbbing knuckles.

Mirana paused at the next door, taking up an abandoned crossbow and a set of bolts. Marci tapped her arm and held out the stiletto she had picked up, offering the hilt to Mirana. 'Are you sure?'

Marci nodded firmly.

Mirana took the weapon gratefully. Once again, she felt wretched for using Marci to her advantage. Yes, she would have hurt Gwanwyn if told to. But torture was one thing Mirana never wanted Marci to do. 'Marci—'

Marci held up her hand to stop her. She gave Mirana a knowing smile.

Mirana returned the smile ruefully. She did not have to say anything. Marci knew her too well.

Mirana loaded the crossbow and placed one hand on the latch. 'Ready?'

Marci lifted her fists and nodded. Mirana wrenched open the door. It seemed that they were going to put an end to this loathsome enterprise after all.


If monks in Dungeons and Dragons had even a fraction of Marci's ability, I'd be more inclined to add them to my parties in various D&D games. I suppose the games would be a bit too easy though.