Lady Wolf wrote this section. The realm of Tortall belongs to Tamora Pierce. We just play in her world.
Being an Excerpt from the Journal of Guardswoman Rebakah Cooper
Provosts Guardswoman, The Lower City, Corus.
December 15, 247
After Watch
It's been odd these past few weeks. Whether to offset the amount of rain we had in the summer, the Gods have taken it upon themselves to freeze the city of Corus . Mercifully, we've yet to have snow, but it shouldn't be too far off now. This night was an interesting one.
First interesting thing that happened was I managed to surprise Rosto out of his sleep before I left for watch. He usually sleeps like a cat: one ear and one eye cracked. But not only did he not hear me curse my way down the stairs, but he didn't hear when I bluntly opened his door. Seeing him curled up asleep reminded me of that time in Port Caynn when a death sleep had caught him. He's rarely ever that exhausted and it was weird seeing him there, just sleeping. I sat there beside him on the bed, with Pounce watching me from the door.
Something wrong with him? Pounce mews quietly, so as not to wake Rosto.
"He's asleep. I don't think he heard me." I say quietly to Pounce. Pounce walks over and sniffs at Rosto.
Gainel has him in a dreamless sleep. I often find it unnerving when my cat refers to the Gods by their names, like he's known them all his life. I dunno how many folk are on first name terms with the Gods, but I ain't one of them, and I find it odd that Pounce is.
"Gainel may have him in a deep sleep, but attention unpaid is a grave half-made." I said looking down at Rosto. I almost didn't want to wake him; he looks that different when he's asleep. The hard lines of his mouth, which is so often in a wicked grin and a half-sneer, those lines disappear and mouth and lips take on that petal-softness they have when he's playing his pipes. His eyes aren't nearly so calculating, and the harshness all but disappears from his face. He still has the scars he's earned in battle, but they look so much less dangerous and harsh when he's asleep.
I believe you were about to wake him up. I know you want to take care of him, Beka. But he's the Rogue and his day is about to start, just like yours. Him being asleep like this is dangerous for him. A slow rusher is a dead rusher. Nothing's slower than sleep. Pounce rubs his head against my hand and then against Rosto's side. Pounce is right: Rosto does need to wake up, and much as I was loathe to do it, I shake Rosto awake. He seemed surprised to see me there.
"Rosto, you've been sleeping since breakfast. Are you alright?" I ask him as he stretches and yawns. Pounce disappeared from the room. He would wait for me downstairs, no doubt hoping to get a tidbit out of Cookie.
I give him a disbelieving look when he says he's fine. He doesn't answer me truthfully, and I can tell he's trying to hide something. Perhaps his own weakness? His own fears? He's afraid of something, but he won't admit it. Rogues aren't supposed to show fear.
He let me pick the shirts he'd wear tonight. Like Lockhorn and Ulsa, Rosto's gotten to using his share of the Rogue's cut to buy pretty and flamboyant shirts. He's always got a few simpler ones in more muted colors, but those stay in a box under his bed, for when he needs to do something that involves hiding. He's also got one or two of the simpler ones up in my room, being as he's not that much bigger than me, if anyone sees those shirts, they'd think they were mine. But they're Rosto's. It's just in case anyone gets suspicious of him walking out of my room in the early morning, in the same shirt he was wearing the day before.
He wore red tonight. A bright red-gold, that shimmered in the fading light. That fading light reminded me I had to get the stuffing pounded out of me by Ahuda before I went on Watch. He told me to be careful just as I left and I told him I would. In all honesty though, I'm not the one who was caught napping.
Well, Pounce had in fact been begging food off of one Cookie's kitchen girls. They all call him a handsome lad, and he loves winking at them with his purple eyes, which just makes them titter and squeal. "Come on, Pounce. We've got a walk to go on." He jumped off the table as I opened the door.
Poundings with Ahuda weren't nearly so miserable today: Ersken and I are so used to fighting side by side that we teamed up for all of five minutes, and managed to land a blow each to Ahuda. I think it was just that Ahuda wasn't expecting to get double-teamed; once she caught her bearings she threw us both on our tails, whipping our legs out from under us. Still, it's getting to the point where I know we're getting better. At least Ersken and I are.
Watch was interesting. We walked as a whole set on our way to the Dockmarket, which is considerably less busy in the middle of winter than it is during the summer, but it was just as much part of our beat as the Cesspool or the Nightmarket. We was about halfway to Market Bridge when we was stopped by one of the older Dog pairs (who can really only patrol the streets) to run for the Carts, as they hauled a gray-bearded man from behind a pile of crates, where there was cards and dice on an upturned crate. Ersken tossed me Achoo's leash as he ran for the cart: Goodwin was just about to go off at him for not hauling Tunstall away from a cart of hot chestnuts fast enough. Goodwin growls.
"Blighter thinks he can avoid us, and the Piper's tax on gambling. Wretch." Grumbles the older Dog, his name is Harcorn. He's good, and he was one of my teachers on how to interrogate.
"Speaking of Stormwing dung," says his partner, Matite (I would swear that's his name) while pointing up the street. There was a taller blonde man in a bright red-gold shirt hauling a kicking and bellering man by the ear. "There's the cart, let's go, Harcorn. I don't want to share this one with the Rogue." He hauls the gray-bearded gambler off up the street, away from Rosto, who had his full Rogue-face on. I took a closer look as Rosto the Rogue strolled in our direction, hauling none other than Bold Brian.
"Evening, Guardswomen Goodwin, Cooper, Guardsman Tunstall," Says Rosto pleasantly as he drags Brian past us. "If you'll excuse me, someone is in need of a swim." And he walks off with a cheery wave, hauling Brian toward the Olorun. There ain't a sound from them as are on the docks watching. Everyone wants to know what the Rogue will do, as well as what the city's finest Dogs are going to do.
Finally, once at the Olorun, he pulls Brian in front of him, murmurs something in his face, and with a jolt, lets Brian fall into the water. I wonder what Brian could've done to deserve a swim in the ice-cold Olorun. No doubt he said something that was a little too bold. I try my hardest to suppress a laugh, feeling rather sorry for the floundering Brian in the river. Tunstall and Goodwin laugh out loud as they watch Rosto clap his hands together and stroll away from the River's edge. He only looked at me once and I could only shake my head at the silliness of it all.
"Should we arrest him? I mean technically, that's a crime." Goodwin can hardly talk through her laughter. She chances a glance at Brian, who's hauled himself out of the water and looks like a wet cat. She bursts out laughing again.
"How's it a crime? Way I figures it, Rosto's gone and done Bold Brian there a favor, teaching him a lesson out of the goodness of his own heart. Why, if you look there, the cove now knows how to swim in the river in the middle of winter." Tunstall isn't laughing nearly as raucously as Goodwin is; it's more of a deep rumble.
Goodwin laughs. "Beka, what do you think? We hunt down the Piper?"
"I'm inclined to agree with Tunstall. To mine eyes, looks like Bold Brian just got himself a swimming lesson. He ain't dead is he? And no doubt, if there was a reason, Brian deserved it. Besides, the way I figured it, the Happy Bag is for instances just like this. We let the Rogue deal with his own folk. And Rosto has happily shown Brian how to swim this fine winters evening." I say to Goodwin, siding with Tunstall being as I don't feel like hunting down Rosto for something as trivial as dumping a living person into the Olorun.
"And what doesn't kill him, will by all means make him stronger. And possibly smarter too!" No doubt it will. It might just teach Brian to hold his tongue. The bugnob. Tunstall claps his hands together and proceeds to pat me on the back. "Here, Goodwin, take Achoo's leash. Ersken will be here in a few minutes. I'm going to take Beka here and we'll finish with the Dockmarket and head into the Cesspool from there." Goodwin looks grumpy taking hold of Achoo's leash, muttering something about preferring Pounce instead, but Tunstall is already steering me towards North Bridge .
Just as we're considering crossing North Bridge into the Prettybone district, a woman comes up, wearing a white dress that pushes her peaches out in front of her. She's got a few flowery pins in her hair, shaped like roses, and a bright red shawl around her shoulders. Three guesses as to her profession. She saunters right up to Tunstall and leans her large bosom into his side which makes Tunstall stiffen. I ain't never seen a doxy that bold as to ask a Dog for his business.
"Evening," Tunstall manages to croak out, and my mind races to figure out who this doxy is. I take another look at her and can finally place her: Tunstall's reports from while we were in Port Caynn. This is Rose Bride, and she's one of his birdies. I breathe out a small sigh and watch as the woman purrs into Tunstall's ear about a number of interesting things she's learned, all of which are strictly professional. Her profession.
"Miss, is there anything you can tell us that won't turn a seasoned spintry red." I ask her after letting Tunstall squirm. "Information-wise?" Rose Bride is like Pounce, purring and cuddling up to Tunstall, who has become quite the spectacle.
"You're that mot they call the Terrier, ain't cha?" She says, stopping her squirming and wrapping her arms around Tunstall's middle. "You did that Snake case, right?" I nod as she snuggles closer into Tunstall's side and I see him roll his eyes, trying in vain to pry Rose Bride off. "Well, I know it happens all the time, but I heard of two young lads gone missing. Brothers. Beautiful lads, too. They'd be handsome for sure when they got older. Older boy was 8, maybe."
"And his brother," I ask her, feeling my ears prick forward. Children go missing all the time, is a hard truth in the Lower City, but most folk if they're pressed will get rid of one child, not both.
"Little tyke. I've seen him once with his ma. Couldn't have been more than five. She works the flower shop over on Stuvek Street during the season. No flowers in winter, though she's been thinking of getting one of them glass rooms to grow plants in the winter, too." Rose Bride leans up towards Tunstall, murmuring something about being a good birdie with a useful song, and wanting her seeds and her reward. It's getting to the point where it's embarrassing for me to be listening to her.
I carefully pull out my baton, and when she stands on her tiptoes for a kiss, I stick my baton between her and Tunstall, and with a twist, wrench them apart. She glares at me. "Why'd you do that?" She pouts and I give her a glare. She's adamant and unafraid of my glare. I give Tunstall a look and his eyebrow twitches just once.
Just to annoy Rose Bride, whom I imagine is a nuisance to my Dog partner, I wrap my arms around Tunstall's middle and mouth the word 'mine' to her. I pull out a copper noble from Tunstall's pocket, and flip it toward her than hug him again. It takes Tunstall only a heartbeat to figure out what act I've got up my sleeve, and he leans down to put a kiss on my cheek. I wink at Rose Bride, who huffs off.
I pull away from Tunstall, and he exhales. "Mind you, next time she'll probably come at you when you're with Ersken." I tell him, and Tunstall puts an arm around my shoulder as we keep walking.
"You're a godsend, Beka." He says giving me a squeeze. He really needs to stop it now. I don't need folk thinking I'm bedding the Rogue, and one of my Dogs. I channel Goodwin for a second, just enough to put Tunstall back in his place.
"Not really. Acos, if you're not especially well behaved, I'll take a stroll up to Lady Sabine's city lodgings and deliver her my own yarn about how you're up to shenanigans with ladies of questionable virtue." I tell him and I see his face light up at the mention of Sabine, then darken when he hears my 'threat.'
"You haven't spoken to Sabine since Port Caynn." He says, thinking he's caught my bluff.
"I have so. She just ain't told you. And just so you know, Maira of Shang's promised to teach us young Dogs kickfighting. Sabine's "sponsoring" our lessons, meaning she'll be at the Kennel a few times the next month or so." I can see his mouth drop, and I know he's envious of the prospect of us younger Dogs learning Kick-fighting from the Lioness of Shang. "Sounds good, dinnit? Well, I'm telling Goodwin about Rose Bride's information. Together we might manage to keep you and Ersken on your best behavior, won't we?"
He knows I'm not like Goodwin, in which I bark him in line. But that I'm playing a bit with him. He decides to play back with me. "You are spending way too much time with the Rogue. Why, blackmailing your own Dog. Impertinent little minx." He looks miffed. "I'll promise to be good if you'll not tell Goodwin. I'll not have her chastising me like my own ma."
That makes me laugh.
"Weren't your people some highwaymen? Surely your ma scares you more than Goodwin?"
It takes Tunstall only a heartbeat to respond, "My ma's family was bakers."
"Right. Well then, you must have been terrified of your ma, which is completely evident in the amount of pumpkin pastries you ate at my birthday in October." I laugh, enjoying the camaraderie I shared with Tunstall. He's more Goodwin's partner than he is mine. It's moments like these when I see Tunstall as an older brother. A much older brother. Or a favorite uncle. He hugs me again like an older brother would do, and punch him lightly in the side.
"You're being a minx. Come on, it's too cold by the river-front. Let's get a warm cider and then head into the Cesspool."
December 16, 247
Just after breakfast.
Last night, after I got back from watch, I managed to stalk my way up to my room and write in my journal. Just before the Nightmarket closed for the evening, I managed to stop by one of my ma's herbalist friends. I picked up a blend of herbs that used to help Ma sleep back when all she did was worry about us. Duria, the Herbalist, is a woman I trust about as much as I trust my Lord Provost, or Tunstall and Goodwin.
Of course, the herbs weren't for me: they was for Rosto. Usually I don't have to worry about him, but if he's dreaming that I'm gonna kill him, then I dunno. I'd druther not be near him when he's awake (some rushers are saying he's been cranky) and I'd druther not be near him should he start sleep-walking. The tea might help.
When I walked into his room, I had the leaves steeped and hot in a mug on a tray. When Rosto looks up from his bed, his face lights up and then darkens as he sees the drink. "Evening, sir, drink for ya?" I say in my most air-for-brains tone.
"No, sorry. I have a mot. But while she's not here, you might just do," Rosto jokes back, standing up and trying to see into the mug I've got. "Feeling ill, love?" He asks, sniffing the tea with a grimace.
"No." I tell him, putting the tray down on his side table. "Why'd you throw Brian into the River?" I say, trying to change the topic.
"He called me a spintry," Rosto countered quickly. "That tea ain't for me, is it?" He asks, sniffing it again and grimacing again.
"Yes, it is. It's to help you sleep." I tell him, and I can see Rosto look cautious.
"I don't need help sleeping. I slept fine this afternoon." He says, trying to remind me of when I walked in to wake him up.
"Yes, but that was during the day. Normal folk sleep during the night. You need to sleep, and before you argue with me, last night you was shocked out of your sleep by 'nothing' which just so happened to be a nightmare of me killing you. Then you was in a death-sleep all afternoon. Neither is good, Rosto." I put my hand to his cheek.
"Attention unpaid's a grave half-made. You Dogs have that same phrase. How do I know this drink won't mess with my senses?" He asks, looking at the mug warily.
"Firstly, because my ma drank this to keep her worries and nightmares away. However, she was still able to hear Will or Nilo when they started to whimper and cry. Secondly, I'm giving it to you." I extend the mug to him and he still looks at it warily. After a few seconds of silence I take a small sip. "Show of good faith. It ain't poison, if that's what's worrying your paranoid Rogue-mind."
He watches me for a few more seconds, after ascertaining that I wasn't convulsing and dying he takes the mug. "If this puts me in too deep a sleep, we could both get caught. But, that's the least of our concerns. Cheers." He makes a half-hearted toasting motion with the mug and downs it, placing the mug carefully on the nightstand. He looks down at his hands. "I'm not sleepy."
"You ain't listening to me, fool spintry. It's supposed to stop you from dreaming crazy dreams and nightmares, not help you sleep. The sleeping is up to you." I tell him, giving his alabaster cheek a kiss. "I'm cold and I want to sleep."
I told him a bit about what happened while I was on watch, and he told me some of the Rogue stuff that happened (nothing important, just general gossip). After about an hour, he managed to nod off, and he slept the whole night through.
This morning, I felt him wake when the downstairs door slammed open. When someone thundered up the stairs, he turned me quickly toward the wall. "Keep your head down," he whispered in my ear, and then relaxed against my side. When the banging on his door started, he groaned as he hauled himself from the sheets. He was tired, but he was awake.
Brian. The Bold Bugnob! What in the name of the Black God was he doing pounding on the door early in the morning. Didn't he learn nothing the night before!? But Brian and Rosto hiss and seethe at each other about two rushers who never made it back the night before. Just when I think it might be safe, that Brian was just there to talk about Rogue business, I can hear his wolf-whistle and I can tell he's spotted my sleeping form.
"Boss, ain't you going to tell us who that pretty thing is?" and I can imagine Brian's trying right hard to see around Rosto. Rosto shuffles a bit and pushes Brian into the hall, closing the door behind him. I wait, straining to listen. I know I can't turn around just yet. Rosto walks back into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Stay out there, Brian. Can't a man get dressed in some privacy? You want sommat to do, go wake Kora and Aniki. I'll need them both." He says as he closed the door. He sits on the edge of the bed, "Love, I need to deal with this. Wait till I'm gone, before you head out. Talk to Corcoran when you go down and go visit your Da'." He whispers and puts a kiss on my cheek, then another on my mouth.
"Remember what I said about the Rogue ruining the Dove's good floors?" I ask him, and he nods. "Sending Brian to wake Kora won't just ruin the floors, it'll ruin the walls, the doors, and everthing between the foundations and the attic. Wood's flammable, you know. To top it all off, you'll get Brian killed." I see his brain race, and he kisses me once more, grabbing his clothes.
"Bugger doesn't know to stand clear," he mutters, and races out the door. Which makes me laugh. I wait until the racing and thundering on the stairs subsides and the front door slams. There's a soft tap on the door.
"It's Corcoran, miss. His majesty asked me to make you breakfast." Cookie says through the door. "It's safe to come down."
"Thanks, Cookie. I'll be down in a minute." I tell him, change, and set the bed. When I get down the stairs, Cookie's at the counter with hot apple fritters. My favorite.
"His majesty wanted me to ask you if you could escort his new mot, the Lady Dove, back to her house in the Patten District?" Cookie says officially, and I see his eyes flick toward the door. Guards outside. Drat them.
"The Lady Dove?" I say carefully, and Cookie nods. He mouths that he'll explain later.
"Take this over to Mya, will you?" He adds, handing me a basket of jams of jellies. I'm writing this while I'm eating my breakfast, and I can see Cookie nodding at me to head out the back entrance. Very well, I resigned myself, to the Patten District it is.
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