A/N: Another chapter already! Yay! I'm on a roll! Here it is…
Disclaimer: Common sense, guys; if I owned it, it wouldn't be here. It'd be a sequel, trust me.
Iniquity
Chapter Two:
If ya ain't got nothin' nice to say…
After only about an hour, Elvric Sallow's negativity was starting to get on my nerves. It was always, "I hate this," or, "I hate that." And when he wasn't complaining, he wasn't talking at all, which took up the majority of the time.
Needless to say, he wasn't the most fascinating conversational companion.
We had left Rome only about an hour ago, and already I was about to blow my top. I resisted, for fear of getting blood everywhere. Elvric's blood, of course.
"Look," I growled as we made our way down the wide path, "if you don't want to come, you can just head back the way we came. I never asked you to come- I don't need your help. Especially if you're going to be complaining the entire time!" That's me: beat-around-the-bush Mina.
He scoffed. "Oh, yes. I'd run along back home and tell Cardinal Jinette that I didn't want to go in the first place. I'm sure he'd just love that."
I felt heat rise to my face and I sent him a side-ways glare. Of course, he had to be right. The voice of reason. Whoop-dido.
For being such an annoying little git, Elvric was incredibly handsome. I might have actually liked him, what with his olive-toned skin, straight black hair that grazed his broad shoulders, golden eyes that seemed to smolder when I looked into them, his tall, muscular build, and his strong features, but his oh-so-cheery personality was less than charming. Because handsome or no, he was still an annoying little git.
"Fine then," I said. "But if you're going to stay, learn to say something nice, or nothing at all! Sheesh, you're driving me up the proverbial wall!"
"Fair enough," he replied, and then lapsed into silence.
I huffed. Sure, El, take the easy way out of the conversation.
The Italian countryside stretched out before us. I've got to say: even with Mr. Doom-n-Gloom tagging along, this made it all worth the while. It was absolutely gorgeous. Vineyards combed the hills, which were topped with old villas painted white with sunshine. Fields of yellow wheat waved at us in the wind, and the green trees echoed their greeting. The birds danced happily through the air, twittering their beautiful songs above our heads.
Elvric opened his mouth.
"You ruin my moment," I warned, "and I'll bite your head off."
His mouth closed, and his lips pressed into a thin, white line. I grinned, glad that I'd found a way to keep him quiet. Then he opened his trap yet again and my smile disappeared.
"I was just going to say," he growled, ignoring my heated glare, "that this isn't so bad…"
I blinked. "Oh," I said, taken aback. "Sorry…" Quickly, I turned back to the scenery in order to hide the embarrassed blush that warmed my cheeks. I urged my horse onward. "Come on; we need to reach the city by morning."
"Who put you in charge?" Elvric growled from behind. "But I guess you're right," he amended before I could make a snide remark. "Lido di Ostia won't wait for long."
The Italian city's name rolled easily off of his tongue, despite his thick Bulgarian accent. I silently wished I was able to do the same, but for the life of me, no matter how hard I tried, Italian always stumped me. I could never pronounce it right. Perhaps it was the Irish accent?
"Or at least," I replied lamely, "the ship won't wait for us…"
The Hellion, which was our ship's name (wasn't such a name considered unlucky by superstitious sailors? Odd that they would name their ship such a thing…), would carry us from the port of Lido di Ostia, around both Greece and Italy, through two narrow channels and the Sea of Marmara, into the Black Sea, and we would dock at Constanta, Romania. From there, we would continue on horseback, or by carriage if we had the money for such a luxury, to the town of Vaseria, on the other side of the country.
It was going to be a long, long trip.
"Elvric, how long do you think it will take the Hellion to get from Lido di Ostia" - here I winced as I mangled the supposed-to-be-beautiful name- "to Constanta?" You'd think after about thirteen years of living in Rome, I'd learn how to pronounce the language properly…
"About three weeks, but it all depends on the wind," he replied. "If not three weeks, probably four. Not too long. Why, haven't you been on a boat before?" he quizzed.
"Sure, I have!" I said, indignant.
"For how long, exactly?"
I hesitated, my false confidence faltering at the ugly truth. "…An hour or two," I admitted quietly. It never took long to take a joy ride across the Adriatic Sea…
Quirking an eyebrow, he smirked and settled back in his saddle. "Boy, are you in for a surprise."
