Chapter 15: Do We Have A Deal?
The western sky turned red and orange as the sun sank towards the sea, drawing the day to a close. But while the sun was ready for sleep, Seahaven was anything but. The excitement of the Tournament of Champions had set the town ablaze with gossip. The final match was the subject on everyone's lips, as was the identity of the masked traveler. It was impossible to hear someone talking about one without the other. Taverns, restaurants, stores, and homes were filled with chatter, as well as a fair number of people lamenting their bets on Richard securing another win. For many it was also a night for celebration, as Richard's despotic shadow had been lifted at last. Already they were calling it the most memorable tournament in history. The Mermaid's Trove was alive with music, singing, and dancing, the entire building almost shaking with the energy of it all.
Not everyone was celebrating, though.
Remora and Riptide secluded themselves in a dark alley far from the densest crowds and liveliest festivities. The sorceress held a dark orb in her hand, her veil pulled back to reveal the gold mask. Beside her Riptide was ripping meat off what had once been a whole lamb. He made rude tearing and chewing noises as he ate, swallowing raw chunks whole. Remora was willing to tolerate it if he would not make a snack out of a passerby. Not that the sound of meat being ripped off bone did anything to upset her, nor sacrificing some innocent bystander to sake her partner's appetite. She was just following orders.
"Are you certain?" asked the Master's voice from the orb.
"It's her," replied Remora. "I'm certain. Aside from the piercings and magic, she's a perfect match."
The Master chuckled, causing the orb to vibrate. "Interesting. A player we did not anticipate."
"She won't be playing for long," Remora said, not hiding her eagerness for blood. "Not when I'm done. I'll take care of her immediately."
Riptide was discovering his new human teeth were insufficient for eating the bone from his snack. He gave up on devouring it for a moment. Crunching and cracking noises came from his mouth as it bulged and squirmed like a bag of eels. When the motions and noise stopped, he grinned to reveal a mouth filled with dozens of razor-sharp needle teeth. He licked his lips with a long pointed blue tongue before biting back into the bone. It splintered like a dry stick under the force of his new maw.
"No," said the Master flatly. "Leave her be."
A lightning bolt arced off Remora, striking the side of the alley and burning a black scorch mark into it. "What!?"
"We have more important things to focus on than a single sorceress," said the Master.
"But sir, she's–!"
"Are you questioning my orders, Remora?"
Remora bit back her words immediately. She knew better than to even think about going against the Master. He was not Maelstrom's leader because he created their criminal organization. Nor was it because his followers respected him. Nor was it because he possessed superior intellect and a sharp capacity for strategy. He was their leader for one simple reason.
He was strong.
The Master had power far beyond anyone else in Maelstrom. Even if all Maelstrom were to combine their might against him, they would still be far short of his strength. Remora's own magic was a shadow of his abilities, and she was far, far beyond those of Morgana and Ursula. There were probably very few mages that could pose a threat to him. She was no exception.
"No, sir," Remora muttered.
"Patience," said the Master, sensing her frustration. "Serve as you have, and you will have her head with time. Maelstrom has not come this far by blindly pursuing vengeance. That sort of action has already cost us enough. For now, have our spies begin inquiring through the Alliance. See what they can learn about this Lara Anclagon. Determine if she will be a hindrance to us. Then you may deal with her."
"As you wish, Master," said Remora, concealing her disappointment as well as the mask concealed her face.
"Now then…" continued her dark commander. "I'm interested in this Richard Avitas you mentioned. What do you know about him?"
"Enough," answered Remora. "No living family. Has more money than he knows what to do with, but still wants more. And if he's got a conscience, he doesn't use it. The boy's got standing with the nobility. His reputation with the rabble is about as trashed as his body is. He's human scum through and through."
"Our type, then?" asked the Master.
Remora grinned under her mask. "Completely."
Riptide devoured the last scrap of bone, crunching the shards in his jaws before swallowing. "You want us to bring him in?" he asked in a hissing voice.
"Yes," said the Master. "Fruit is sweetest right before it rots, and this man is ripe for picking. No doubt his pride took as much of a battering as his body. If revenge is what he wants, we'll offer him the means. He'll come for it like flies to dead flesh."
The black orb began to vibrate, causing the surface to stipple and dance. A small glass vial filled with a murky blue potion rose out on a tendril of shadow. Remora plucked the vial from the shadow, which retreated into the orb. The glass was strangely warm.
"Something to sweeten our offer," said the Master. "Ensure he drinks every drop."
Remora held up the vial. The blue colors swirled inside with flecks of silver, like snowfall in moonlight. "How long have you had this?"
"I have been saving it for such an individual," said the Master.
"What if he refuses the offer?" asked Riptide as Remora pocketed the vial.
"Then you are free to dispose of him."
Riptide growled deep in his throat, smiling to reveal his fang-like teeth. Remora grinned as well, anticipating having some "fun" with the man before he became Riptide's next meal. "As you wish, sir."
The dark orb shrunk in Remora's hand until it blipped out of existence. She was still aggravated at being denied Lara's life, but the prospect of coercing Richard to join them added a glimmer of enjoyment to her otherwise foul mood. Nothing brightened her day like ruining someone else's.
"What is the plan?" asked the transformed sea monster as he picked a piece of bone from between his teeth.
"You heard him," said Remora, flipping the veil back over her face. "Let's go meet the recruit."
She was about to walk into the street when she noticed Riptide's mouth. "Your fangs are showing."
Riptide's face squirmed and crunched as the bones returned to their alternate form before going still. Riptide rotated his jaw, making sure it had changed correctly. He smiled to reveal human teeth.
"Better?" he asked, his hissing voice gone.
"Personally? Your real form is better," admitted Remora. "But that'll do for what we need."
With that the witch and her counterpart slipped out of the alley and back into the streets, heading for the hospital on their sinister mission.
The failing light streamed through the giant windows of the palace dining hall, casting the room in a warm glow. Maids bustled to and fro at the long table, readying it for their now substantially larger dinner party. Seagulls could be heard calling outside as they prepared to roost for the night.
Eric entered the hall in his casual attire, glad to be free of the confining formal uniform his position required for public appearances. The sounds of children shouting and running around were heard as the orphans were herded somewhere they could expend their seemingly endless energy without hindering the palace staff. And, to Carlotta and Grimsby's relief, somewhere with a lack of breakable objects. He sighed as he closed the doors behind him. Interacting with all those children had been delightful, but it also made Eric grateful Melody was an only child. As much as he enjoyed being a father, he was unsure how well he and Ariel could have handled two children. Raising Melody had been an exercise in patience and understanding, albeit a rewarding one. Only gods knew how Sarah and Isaac managed with their numbers.
The presence of the orphans at dinner, along with Sarah and Isaac, had been a provision of Lara accepting the fourth change to the Tournament of Champions. In addition to the prize money, the victor would dine with the king and queen at the palace that evening.
The victor in question stood by the windows, arms folded as she gazed out over the garden to the ocean. Her shemagh, once the mask she hid behind, now served as a scarf around her neck, the tasseled ends hanging down her front. She donned her brown tunic once more, arms bare in the absence of sleeves. The patchwork cloak was draped over one of the high-backed chairs at the end of the dining table, the bokken leaning against it. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her mind far away from her body as her golden eyes stared at the sea.
It had been several hours since the end of the tournament, and Eric still could not keep from staring at Lara. It was not just her strangely beautiful yet striking features. This young woman was a mystery wrapped in a confounding coat of unconventional. Despite the ruthless fighting prowess she displayed in the arena, Lara was proving quite amicable and witty if perhaps a little sparse in decorum. Eric was surprised by how gentle she was with the children and how unafraid they were of her. Especially the girl called Jenni, who only left Lara's side that evening after extensive promises they would see each other again soon. Her entrance to the palace was met with numerous hushed whispers behind her back, but if they had any affect on Lara then she did not show it. That, or they were silenced by one glance from her eyes. She certainly had a presence about her, like a tiger or wolf walking by.
"Ahem."
Eric realized he had been dazedly staring at Lara, and now found her staring back at him. He jumped slightly at her eyes, unnerved by their color and intensity.
"Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" she said, her tone and expression irked.
"Apologies," Eric said quickly. Why was he so nervous? He was the king! He could keep his composure in a room of foreign dignitaries. He commanded ships in storms with greater composure. How was this woman he just met unnerving him?
Maybe it was the fact she just trounced fifteen men by herself with a wooden sword. And decimated the best swordsman in Seahaven with her bare hands. And now he was standing in a room with her, alone and unarmed.
Lara's intense expression softened, her lips turning into a lopsided grin. "Relax! I'm joking! I get why you'd stare. My face takes some getting used to."
Eric was saved from any further embarrassment by Grimsby entering the hall, his footsteps sharp and precise over the floor as he approached and bowed. "Dinner will be ready within the hour, sire. May I fetch you something to drink in the meantime? A glass of wine?"
"Sounds perfect, Grims!" said Eric, glad for the break in the tension. "Open some of the good stuff. This is the end of the festival. And thanks to our guest here it was a memorable one. We might as well celebrate."
"Very good, sire." Grimsby turned to Lara, quickly looking her up and down again. Eric could read the same disapproval in his advisor as when he first clapped eyes on Lara in the arena. "And for you, miss? Perhaps a cup of tea?"
"Pint of ale if you're offering," said Lara.
Eric struggled not to laugh as his advisor's eyebrows nearly lifted off his face. "Pardon? Ale?"
"Ale, beer, mead. Whatever you call it," said Lara. "You know what that is, right? Golden fizzy stuff in wood barrels? Usually served in mugs? That's not tea?"
Grimsby looked to Eric, his face expressing his understanding of his king's fatherly worry for Melody but seriously questioning his judgment in considering this "woman" for the position of her bodyguard. And if he was really supposed to bring her something he considered a common man's drink.
Eric nodded, an affirmation to both. "The lady wants an ale."
Grimsby bowed hesitantly. "As you wish, sire." He gave Lara another once over before walking briskly out of the room, muttering something about proper behavior and attire for young ladies under his breath.
"Tch! A real stickler for tradition, I take it?" asked Lara.
Eric chuckled at how close her guess was. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
Lara shrugged. "Lucky guess. I'm guessing you two go way back if you're calling him 'Grims?'"
"Way, way back," affirmed Eric. "Grimsby was my manservant when I was younger than Melody. Now he's my closest advisor. He's definitely a 'stickler for tradition,' as you put it. But I couldn't ask for a wiser or more loyal friend."
Lara looked back to the ocean. "Loyal friend, huh?" Her hand clenched tight for a moment before relaxing.
Eric followed her sight out the window, watching the sunlight reflect off the water. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah…beautiful." Lara did not sound nearly as enthralled with it as he was.
The doors opened as Grimsby returned with a glass of red wine and a pewter mug brimming with ale. He balanced the drinks masterfully on a silver tray as he walked, the vessels barely shifting with his stride. "As requested, sire."
"Thank you." Eric took his wine and Lara's ale, handing the later to the young woman as she eyed it with thirst. She raised the mug appreciatively before taking several large swigs of the bittersweet golden liquid.
"Pahhhh! That's good!" she exclaimed, licking the froth off her upper lip. "Really hits the spot!"
Grimsby gave Eric another look. "Will that be all?"
Eric nodded as he sipped his wine. "That'll do for now, Grims. By the way, have you seen Melody or Ariel?"
"The princess is in her chambers preparing for dinner. I passed her majesty the queen on her way to see her just now."
"I see. That'll be all then."
Grimsby bowed again and left the room, casting a lingering glance at Lara before closing the door.
Lara swirled her mug. "This is some great stuff. John would give his left leg and the rest of his hair to get his hands on the recipe."
"Lara, I've been meaning to ask…" Eric paused for another sip. "Why did you hide your identity?"
Lara took another swig, clearly enjoying the drink. "Richard. There's been bad blood between us for a while now, so I didn't want anyone else getting caught up in it. That and I got shooed away when I tried to compete in the first event." Lara drank again before continuing. "That crusty old ref said, and I quote, 'This is a contest for men, not something as delicate or emotional as a woman.' That and I should stick to waving handkerchiefs and batting eyelashes from the sidelines. Amazingly annoying how his tune changed when I came back as Hood."
"I think you more than proven him wrong," said Eric.
"You think? Now then…" Lara took one more swig before walking over to the table. "Much as I'm enjoying the small talk, let's cut to the chase. What happened to the princess?"
Eric choked on his wine, coughing to clear his throat. "Wha- *cough* what?"
Lara pulled a chair out and sat down. "Look, I know you already have your own ideas about me. And I'll bet your family and staff have some…particular ones of their own. But whatever they are, don't think I'm dense. Or deaf. Or blind. I've kept my eyes and ears open since I came to Seahaven. Rumors have been flying left and right about the princess getting attacked on her birthday. There's theories ranging from werewolf assassins to undead pirates and talking shark people."
Eric gulped at how close the last one was to the truth. Apparently their attempts to keep things quiet had failed.
"Normally I'd just dismiss it as tavern gossip and go about my day," continued Lara. "But between the guards in town, the weird stuff people say has been going on, and that reaction of yours, my gut's telling me it's a lot more than rumor. And the setup of this tournament and that ridiculous purse you offered points to one conclusion…"
Lara leaned forward. "You were testing us. That tournament wasn't just a competition. It was an interview. You raised the prize money to draw in as many fighters as possible. Then you upped the difficulty of the qualifiers to screen out the best. Then you whittled us down to just one in the arena. Add that up with the attack and the fact no one's seen you, the queen, or your daughter in weeks, and I'm guessing you were keeping her here for protection until you found someone to guard her. Am I right?"
Eric stared in bewildered awe at Lara. She was not just strong, but smart too. She deduced his intentions going off rumors and the tournament itself. He made a note not to ever underestimate Lara's intelligence.
Lara leaned back in the chair, finger tracing the rim of her mug. "So what's the truth? What really happened?"
Eric set down his wine and pulled out his own chair. Clearly the time for pleasantries had passed. It was time for business. "You're right. We were using the tournament to find a guardian. I was going to tell you later, but I guess now's as good a time as any. But before I tell you what happened, we need to go back twenty years so you understand the circumstances that got us here. When I was eighteen…"
Melody leaned on her balcony railing as she watched the sun sink towards the horizon. Her dress had been abandoned in favor of the comfort of her pantalets and camisole. For once her hair fell unrestricted, cascading around her shoulders like a black waterfall. She turned William's gift over in her hands as thoughts tumbled in her head, the box worn in the corners and marred with fingerprints from the countless times she handled it.
Lara Anclagon. Of all the people to get chosen as her protector, it had to be someone like her. She was without a doubt the most striking people Melody had ever met, as well as one of the most violent ones. She thought Lara was going to beat Richard to death with how she assaulted him. It was not a fight she witnessed in that arena. It was a one-sided battering. Lara showed no hesitation in her attacks, as though she wanted to push Richard as close to death as possible. Then that same feral woman was celebrating with those children and their caretakers, smiling like the happiest person in Seahaven. How could they be so at ease around someone that vicious? She still had blood on her for crying out loud!
Melody shivered as she recalled Lara's eyes. What was it about that woman that unsettled her so much? It could not be just the bright eyes and excessive piercings. There was something terrifying about her, as though she would suddenly grab the nearest person and take a bite out of their neck. Just being near her felt like standing next to an angry cobra, afraid any movement could stimulate it to strike without warning.
And her parents wanted this woman to protect her?
Knock knock knock! Melody almost dropped Williams gift with how she startled at the sound.
"Melody? It's mom," came Ariel's voice from outside the bedroom. "And Sebastian, too."
"Mind if we come in?" asked a distinctly Jamaican voice.
"Door's open," called back Melody.
The door made is familiar clicks as Ariel entered. Melody heard her come to the balcony, stopping when she caught sight of her.
"You're not dressed?" Ariel said with surprise. "Dinner will be ready soon."
Melody stooped over, eyes cast to the garden below as she muttered, "I'm not hungry."
Ariel approached, her steps more cautious now. Melody saw her lean against the rail next to her from the corner of her eye, making out her pink ball gown and red hair. The sound of pointed crustacean legs tick-tacking over stone told her Sebastian had left whatever perch he chose on Ariel.
For a while no one said anything. Mother, daughter, and crab stood in silence, watching as the sun slipped steadily further away. The quiet seemed to stretch on for hours even though it was only minutes, becoming increasingly awkward. Melody searched for something to say but found nothing. The words she wanted were lost in a confusing jumble of thought and emotion. A breeze came by, playing with Ariel and Melody's hair as it lifted stray strands in its windy grasp.
It was Ariel who broke the silence. "So…what do you think?"
"About what?" asked Melody, although she had a sure idea what and whom Ariel was referring to.
"About Lara."
Melody tensed just at the name. "It doesn't matter what I think. Nothing I say is going to change anything."
"Melody, what you think will always matter to us," said Ariel. "Don't ever think otherwise. Especially with this. If Lara's going to be your guardian, then your opinion absolutely matters. Just be honest with me. Please."
Melody sighed. She straightened up, turning away from the ocean as she folded her arms and leaned back against the railing. "All right. I don't like her, and I don't want her guarding me."
Ariel's expression told Melody she already figured as much. "Can I ask why?"
"Just look at her!" said Melody, her voice rising in volume. "Did you see what she did to Richard? And how she talked to dad? She's dangerous, ill-mannered, has no sense of respect! And don't get me started on her looks! She's…she's…!"
"Different?" offered Ariel and Sebastian in tandem.
Melody searched for a better descriptor, but Ariel and Sebastian hit it right on the head. "Too different, if you ask me."
Sebastian nodded in agreement. "Hmm…she's got a point, Ariel. I've barely seen de girl, and she made me whole shell shiver with half a glance. We've got some strange folks under de sea, but dat Lara girl's waaaaay out dere, mon."
Ariel sighed. As hasty as she thought their opinions were, she could understand them to a point. Lara was anything but normal in appearance and behavior. Ariel remembered how bold she was as a teenager, but Lara made her look tame by comparison. There was nothing lady-like about her. She used the same casual air with everyone regardless of who they were. Ariel had no real problem with that. In fact, she found it refreshing to be so informal with someone. Being called "your majesty" or "your highness" by every person she met had a way of making her miss the sound of her own name. But she knew Lara's very presence was already rubbing others the wrong way. Especially Grimsby. As strict as he was on courtly tradition and culture, Lara must have been a nightmare come to life when she walked in the main doors.
"Melody, did I ever tell you about Simon?" Ariel asked.
Sebastian rubbed his face with his claw, remembering exactly who Ariel was referring to. "Oh no, not dat Simon!"
Melody shook her head. If there was one thing she learned in nineteen years of life, it was that Ariel had an almost endless supply of stories to tell. And they usually came out when she had a point to make about something.
"When I was fourteen, Sebastian, Flounder and I found a map in a bottle," Ariel started. "There was a message asking us to rescue someone named Simon from a sea monster."
"And you decided to follow it," said Melody, knowing full well what action her mother would have taken.
Ariel smiled at the memory. "We followed the map into a cave, even though we were warned about how horrible the sea monster was. An undertow caught us and we got trapped in the monster's lair. We tried to hide, but he knew we were there. It looked like we were done for when the sea monster found us."
"So what happened?" asked Melody.
"We had a party and then brought him back to Atlantica with us," said Ariel casually.
Melody was somehow both completely surprised and not surprised in the least. "You did what?"
Ariel laughed at her reaction. "Simon wasn't the sea monster's prisoner. Simon was the sea monster! And he was not horrible or vicious like everyone said! Just very lonely and misunderstood. He desperately wanted to have friends, but everyone was afraid of him because of how he looked."
"Dat wasn't de only reason, mon," said Sebastian. "Dat looney had de social graces of a cuttlefish!"
"He wasn't that bad," said Ariel disarmingly.
"No?" Sebastian crossed his claws, eyeing Ariel like a parent listening to their child fib that they were not taking cookies from the jar but rather seeing how far inside their hand would fit. "Need I remind you about de 'morningexercises' dat nearly shook de palace apart?"
"He didn't, though."
"Or de nighttime serenade he gave us…at de crack of dawn?"
"Uh…"
"Or when he–?"
"All right, so he was a bit awkward around others," conceded Ariel.
Sebastian gave her an arched eyebrow, or whatever the crustacean equivalent was.
"Okay, he was really awkward. But what did you expect from someone who'd been isolated for so long? He was trying his best, that's all."
"Is there a point to this story?" asked Melody, sensing Sebastian and Ariel were in danger of getting lost in nostalgia.
"My point is everyone was afraid of Simon because they judged him on sight," said Ariel. "No one knew the real him because they jumped to conclusions. But as scary as he looked, he was far from a monster. He was friendly once you took the time to know him."
Melody sighed, turning William's package in her hands once more. "So, what you're saying is I should try to be friends with Lara?"
"It wouldn't hurt, would it?"
Melody frowned. "Sorry if I'm not as keen on the idea as you."
Ariel gave Melody's back a reassuring rub. "You know that's not fair. Give Lara a chance. The children like her well enough."
"She just gave them six thousand gold coins. If I was them, I'd like her too."
Now it was Ariel who frowned. "I don't think she's the sort of person to buyher friends."
"At de risk of contradicting meself, your mother has a point too, child," added Sebastian, climbing up Ariel's arm to her shoulder. "It wasn't dat long ago we thought all humans were murderous fish-eaters. Your grandfather would've beached himself before he saved a human. Now look at us, mon! Twenty years of friendship between de land and de sea!"
"That's right," agreed Ariel.
Melody sighed, tilting her face back to the sky. Grudgingly she knew they were right. It was unfair to judge Lara when she had barely even spoken to her. She should know. The mishaps of her preteen years earned her a fair number of bad first impressions and rush judgments. Not to mention a particularly bad one with a pint-sized shark and a sea witch. But that wariness in the pit of her stomach remained, as did her disapproval.
"I'll try," she said quietly, not believing her own words.
Ariel smiled. "That's my girl." She gently kissed Melody's head before heading to the door. "Sebastian, would you tell my sisters dinner will be ready soon? We'll be eating in the western hall tonight."
"Dat crazy chef isn't about, is he?" asked Sebastian.
"No, he's busy in the kitchens."
"You sure, mon?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"In dat case I will inform dem immediately." Melody heard Ariel crack the door open, followed by Sebastian's telltale click-clack over the stones as he scurried off.
"I'll be down soon," said Melody. "Just give me a few minutes."
She heard the door close, Ariel's footsteps waning into the distance. She rose off the balcony and walked to her dresser. She was about to toss the present onto the bed but decided against it, instead setting it gently down on the mattress. Her fingertips ran over the ribbon, delayed by a sudden urge to open it. She started to pull on the ribbon.
"I'm here, Will! I'm right here! You're gonna be okay! Grandfather will fix you! Just stay with me!"
William's breaths were becoming faster as he struggled to breathe. "I...love…"
Suddenly William hacked violently, coughing up blood. Melody could feel it fleck her face. She could smell it in the air. Then William's head fell to the side, letting his breath go as though exhaling his soul. He did not breathe in. His pupils dilated as his eyes became blank, their spark of life extinguished.
"Will? Will?" Melody shook him, urging him to breathe again. "Come on, Will! Speak to me! Say something! Will!"
Melody gave a startled shriek, snatching her hand back. She darted away from the gift and backed into the wall, hugging herself tightly as she tried to suppress the memory she so desperately wanted to forget. She swore she could smell blood and feel it on her hands, as though she were back in that awful moment. Her body trembled as she slid to the floor, covering her head with her hands. The tears started falling, each one a wish for something she could never get back.
Lara sat deep in thought, tapping her fingers against the side of her near empty mug. She stared at the gently rippling liquid inside, giving Eric's tale time to settle in her mind. The king watched her from his seat with interest.
Though Eric had recounted the events from Ariel rescuing him to present for Lara, what he gave her was a carefully constructed half-truth. All mention of the merfolk, Atlantica, the trident, and the aquatic nature of their enemy had been left out. A condition he, Ariel, and Triton had agreed upon was that whoever they chose was not to know the true identity of Ariel and her family. That sort of information was not something they could just hand out to a total stranger. In time they would consider telling her. But first, they needed proof Lara could be trusted.
"Let me get this straight," Lara said finally. "Twenty years ago, a witch tried to conquer your father-in-law's kingdom using Ariel for leverage. You killed the witch. Then you and Ariel got married and you had Melody. Just after she was born, that witch's sister tried to use Melody for the same thing, except Melody caused her plan to fail. That was seven years ago, and everything's been relatively quiet till this last year. Then your daughter almost got eaten by some sea monster and nearly got killed at her birthday party, where this prince she liked died protecting her. You can't find any trace of the witches, and you're worried they'll try to get revenge. So, you decided to use the tournament to find a bodyguard for her."
"Yes," said Eric.
Lara took a swig from her mug. "Now you want me to protect her until these witches and whoever brought them back are dealt with. In exchange I get ten gold coins a day, room and board, and whatever else I need to protect her?"
"That about sums it up," said Eric. He sipped the last of his wine before continuing. "We realize this is a very dangerous task. We're asking you to potentially risk your life, but–."
"No."
It was a good thing Eric set his glass down or he would have dropped it. "What?"
"My answer is no." Lara drained the last of her ale and stood, pulling her cloak off the chair.
Eric bolted to his feet. "Wait! I haven't finished!"
"Don't take this the wrong way," said Lara as she put on her cloak. "I sympathize with your situation, and why you geared the tournament like you did. I might do the same thing in your place. But I'm not the guardian you're looking for. I don't do bodyguard gigs, and as of today I'm done fighting for good. I'll check on the kids then see myself out. Least I can do is spare you an awkward dinner."
At that moment Ariel entered the dining hall, smiling when she saw Eric. "Melody will be down soon. She's just…" Her smile faded as she took notice of the atmosphere. That and Lara sheathing her bokken through her belt. "Is something wrong? Did you fill her in?"
"I did," said Eric. "She declined."
Lara though Ariel would have a more subtle reaction if she had been electrocuted by lightning. She darted over to Lara, expression fearful and eyes wide and pleading. "Please don't! We'll pay you whatever you want! But please say you'll accept! Melody needs you! We need you!"
Lara frowned. This was typical royalty. They thought all of life's issues could be solved if you threw enough gold and jewels at it, big or small. Scary thing was that with their wealth it was sometimes possible. If that failed, they relied on their authority to force the outcome they wanted. But when those failed, they panicked because they knew no other ways to approach their problems.
"It's got nothing to do with money," Lara said flatly.
"Then what?" asked Ariel, desperation heavy in her voice.
"I didn't come to Seahaven so I could start swinging a sword again," said Lara. "I promised I'd do this tournament and then that was it. There were plenty of other decent fighters. I'd recommend Sir-Two-Swords or Matthias. They'll probably be thrilled. But I'm done. Sorry."
Lara fixed her goggles on her head and then brushed past Ariel and headed for the door.
"Wait a second!" called Eric. She ignored his plea and kept walking. "Halt!"
"I said no," Lara replied, still walking for the doors.
"Would you…!" She heard Eric smartly walk after her. She was almost to the doors when he grabbed her wrist firmly. "Just wait!"
Lara reacted more on instinct than anything else. She quickly spun around and swatted his hand away, her strike causing him to stagger back. Or maybe it was the angry expression she must have been making? He backed away from her, rubbing at his stinging arm.
"Just wait a moment!" said Eric. "We don't want Sir Gilford or this Matthias. We want you!"
"Why?" asked Lara sternly, eyes fixed hard on Eric's. "You're not exactly lacking for guards. There's enough marching around this place to staff two castles. I'll bet you've got at least a few knights who'd do the job for free. And unless I'm mistaken–and I'm pretty sure I'm not–your daughter is not thrilled with the idea of me hanging around any longer than necessary."
She glanced out the side of her eye at a pair of maids whispering to each other. "Neither is your staff, by the looks of it."
The maids quickly looked away, embarrassed their stares and voices had been noticed so easily.
"Melody has been more standoffish than normal since William was…murdered," admitted Eric. "But she's been through a lot. We all have. And yes, we have plenty of good guards and definitely some skilled knights who would volunteer their swords to us. But we can't settle for good or skilled. We need best, and right now that's you. Lara, you are without a doubt the best warrior in all of Seahaven. In fact, I'd say you're the best in the Alliance. No one else will do."
Lara sighed in exasperation and shook her head. "What part of no is not getting through to you? I'm done! I swore I'd hang up my blades after this tournament, and that's what I'm gonna do! I was planning to the moment I got here, but then I met Sarah and the kids. If it wasn't for them I never would've entered. And the last time I was a bodyguard…"
Her voice trailed off, memories of that fateful wretched day coming back to her.
"Lara…I'm scared…" she said, her voice a quiet whimper. "I know I…said…to go, but…please…don't leave me…"
"What happened?" asked Eric curiously.
Lara blinked, snapping back to awareness and finding Ariel and Eric looking at her with confused and worried faces. She turned her face away from them. "I don't want to talk about it."
Ariel moved in front of Lara. "Please, Lara! I don't know what happened in your past, or why you want to stop fighting. I'm sure you have good reasons for it, but we need your help. You have to understand. We're completely out of our depth here. If you've been here seven weeks, then you must have noticed how peaceful this place is. There hasn't been a war in the Alliance for centuries! We're not prepared for anything like this! I'm not sure we know how to prepare!"
Lara turned away from Ariel again. She had to or she would crack. That desperate look in those ocean blue eyes and the frightened pleading in her voice were pulling hard at her heartstrings and conscience. She needed to get out those doors before she gave in.
Ariel lifted a hand to Lara's face, gently cupping her cheek. She should have been able to resist. She should have been able to shrug Ariel off and walk out that door. Her neck alone was strong enough that it would take five men to force her head around. Yet it only took the lightest of touches from Ariel's hand to bring her eyes back.
If Lara's resolve to leave was cracking before, it was now on the verge of shattering. There was worry, anxiety, and fear in Ariel's eyes. She looked terribly scared and worried, not of her but of something else. Yet she also saw curiosity, sympathy, kindness, and an extraordinary gentleness in them, as though Ariel was trying to understand her with a single look. She knew she had to look away, but her body would not allow it.
"Melody is the most precious thing in our lives," said Ariel. "She's our world. If I lost her, I don't know how I'd go on living. And I'd give anything to keep her safe. The crown, my voice, my life–anything. But I can't keep her safe from this. I can't fight witches or assassins. I can't…" Ariel withdrew her hand, her eyes shifting to it. "I can't do anything…"
Lara cringed. She had to say that. She just had to say that with that voice.
Then Ariel did the last thing Lara ever expected a queen to do–she knelt. Not a low curtsy or down on one knee. She got on both knees in front of Lara, hands clasped together as she looked up at her.
"Please," Ariel begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "I'll do anything you ask. Just please protect my daughter."
Lara stared in shock at Ariel. Never in a thousand years did she think she would see the day a royal knelt to anyone, much less her. An eastern royal would sooner die than plead for a scrap of food from a commoner, even if they were starving. Yet here was a queen begging on her knees for help from a near total stranger, willing to discard all pride for her aid.
She was about to think nothing else could shock her when Eric joined his wife on his knees. Lara actually took a step back, completely thrown off by this unprecedented show of humility. Just how desperate were these two? Or was it their situation that was truly desperate?
"I know we're asking you to break your promise," said Eric. "But we wouldn't if there was another way. We need your help. You're Melody's only chance. Please lend us your strength, and I give you my word we'll do whatever you ask of us."
"I'm no witch hunter," said Lara. She turned and grabbed the door handle.
"And we wouldn't ask you to," said Ariel.
"We don't want you to fight a war for us," said Eric. "Just…please keep Melody safe. Her fate is in your hands."
Lara clenched her jaw, hand trembling as she wrestled with her conscience. It was the night of the tournament announcement all over again. An emotional game of moral tug-of-war raged inside her. Did she accept their plea despite her oath to leave her sword behind? Or did she turn them down and go back to her new life at the orphanage, knowing that she could be dooming the princess to death? She had the skills for this job. If what Ariel said about her kingdom was true, she likely had more real experience with combat and magic than their entire army. But doing this would mean spilling blood. It always did with witches. No matter which direction she went there was going to be blood. It was just a matter of whose blood was going to get spilled first–an innocent's, or a murderer's?
When she put it like that there was no dilemma to be had. Once again, she was faced with the chance to do the right thing or turn her back to it. If she left that room, it was going to haunt her day after day. If harm did come to the princess, it would only add to her guilt. She had to bear enough of that already. She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing her head to hang. She did not want to do this, but there was no way she could refuse.
It seemed she needed to get her sword back.
She let go of the door handle. "All right…I'll do it."
Ariel immediately perked, her eyes brightening as though a switch were flipped. "You will?"
Lara turned back to her. "I'll protect your daughter. But–whoa!"
She was completely unprepared for Ariel to leap at her, throwing her arms around Lara's neck and squeezing her tight. At least Ariel did not have the strength to rearrange her spine.
"Thank you!" exclaimed Ariel loudly. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you! You don't know how much this means to us!"
Lara was caught off-guard by the queen's show of gratitude. She was not sure how to respond either when Eric took one of her hands in a vigorous handshake.
"I can't thank you enough!" he said. "Please, if there's anything we can do for you, don't be afraid to ask!"
"Wait! Just wait a moment!" said Lara as she extricated herself from Ariel. "I said I'll do it, but I've got some conditions!"
"Name them!" said Eric. "Whatever you need! Just tell us and we'll do our best to accommodate you!"
Lara held up a finger. "First, I–."
The sound of clumsy footsteps from the hall interrupted her. She turned to see Jenni come running and giggling through the second set of doors with a winded Grimsby close behind. The girl's eyes brightened as she caught sight of her "knight."
"Lara!" Jenni raced over, bare feet making loud slapping noises on the tile floor before clamping onto Lara's leg. "Found you!"
Lara smiled, hiding how torn she felt inside as she affectionately scratched the back of the girl's neck. She had not considered she would need to leave the orphanage if she was going to do this. But now that she accepted, she really did not have a choice. Not if she was going to do this properly. She had to break the news to Jenni.
"Hey you! What're you doing here?" asked Lara.
Jenni beamed up at her. "Looking for you, silly!"
Grimsby came to a stop, doubled over as he caught his breath. "I'm terribly… sorry…your majesties! She got…away from me…on the way…back to…the hall…and–!"
"It's all right, Grimsby," said Ariel. "No harm done. So Lara, what's your first condition?"
Jenni looked up at Lara with confusion. "What's the pretty lady talking about?"
Ariel blushed slightly at the compliment. She was about to speak but Lara beat her to it. "I'll tell her."
She knelt in front of Jenni, smiling as sweetly as she could for her. She cringed inwardly at the dark bruise developing on her cheek from Richard's blow. It should have been on her face, not this little girl. She could take the hits. If she had been a bit faster, or if she had gone all out from the start, then it could have been prevented.
No, it was pointless to dwell on that. The tournament was over and Richard was done for. The bruise would heal with time. Lara hated to do this to Jenni, but it had to be done. Delaying it would only make telling her even harder later on.
"Jenni, I have to tell you something." Lara paused, taking a breath and mentally bracing herself. "I won't be living at the orphanage anymore."
Horrified surprise took hold of Jenni's face. "Why!? Where are you going!?"
"I'll be staying at the palace now."
Jenni threw herself onto Lara, clutching tight to her shirt as she started crying. "No! You can't leave! Your home's with us! You have to come home! I don't want you to leave! Please don't! I don't wanna lose you too! Not like…like…!"
Lara steeled her heart as Jenni started sobbing, slowly stroking her hair. Of course this was hard on her. She already lost her parents, and now she felt she was losing her, too. She was sorely tempted to make having Jenni stay in the palace one of her conditions. But this was no place for her. Not that she was unworthy of such splendor, but it was not safe. If these witches made a direct attack the palace was going to become a battleground. If that happened, she wanted Jenni and everyone else as far away as possible. She had to let her go. She could not waver.
"You'll never lose me, Jenni," said Lara. "Not now or ever. I'm not leaving Seahaven. I'll just have to walk a bit further to see you. But there are some bad people that want to hurt the princess, and the queen and king asked me to watch over her. So I'm gonna protect her for a while."
"Then protect her from home!"
"It doesn't work that way." Lara gently pried Jenni off. The girl's nose was starting to run and her eyes were puffy, cheeks streaked with tears as she sniffled.
Ariel knelt beside her. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Jen–*sniff* Jenni."
"That's a very pretty name, Jenni," said Ariel, smiling at her. There had to be a law against being able to smile that kindly. "I know you don't want Lara to leave, but we need her help. She's the only one that can. But we're not stealing her from you, I swear. We'd never do that."
"But *sniff* I won't see her anymore."
"You can come visit whenever you want."
Jenni wiped her eyes. "*Sniff* I can?"
"She can?" asked Lara.
"Of course she can! They all can!" said Ariel.
Grimsby gulped visibly. "All of them, your majesty?"
Ariel shrugged. "Why not?"
Grimsby opened his mouth to begin listing the two hundred very fragile and priceless reasons that came to mind, but Lara beat him to it. "Because they're…I mean, we're…this is the palace and, well…they're not…" Lara gestured to what they were wearing in comparison to Ariel's majestic dress.
Ariel caught on. "Why would that matter?"
Lara wanted to pinch herself. Richard must have punched her face harder than she thought. First the queen begged to her. Then the queen knelt to her. Now the queen was telling her it was okay for her friends to visit the palace? Did people this pure-hearted and generous really exist in the world? Because she could count the number of them she found in the east on one hand. No wonder everyone in town spoke so fondly of this woman.
Lara smiled at Jenni. "See? You can still visit me!"
"Promise I can visit every day," said Jenni.
Lara frowned. Tempting as it was, and as much as they would both enjoy it, having Jenni present every day was not ideal. It would undermine her duties as a bodyguard if she had to worry about Jenni following her everywhere. "How about once a week?"
Now it was Jenni's turn to frown. "Every day!"
"Jenni, I can't see you every day!"
"She said whenever I want!"
Crud, Ariel did say that. Why did Ariel say that? "I know, but she didn't mean…argh! Look, two days a week!"
Jenni shook her head vigorously. "Five."
"Fine, I'll make it three. But that's it!"
"Four."
"Three."
"Four!" said Jenni firmly, stamping her foot.
"Three!" replied Lara just as firmly. She stared hard at Jenni as she stared right back, the two daring each other to blink.
"I'll tell new stories," offered Lara.
Jenni kept staring.
"And you can have my wood sword," added Lara.
Jenni remained stoic for a moment, her bottom lip trembling and eyes squinting as her young mind considered the proposition. Lara thought she might refuse again until she stuck out her hand. "Deal!"
Lara grinned as she took the tiny hand, her own almost engulfing it as she ruffled the girl's hair. "Deal! Three days, stories, and the bokken's yours." She pulled the wood sword out of her belt and handed it to Jenni. The girl looked as though Lara just handed her the legendary blade Excalibur. "Just be careful with it. It's not a toy."
Ariel smiled as she giggled, amused by their antics. "So I take it that will be your first condition?"
"If it's really not too much trouble," said Lara as she rose.
"Not at all! I'm sure we can find a way to make it happen. And my nieces and nephews would love some new friends to play with!"
Lara wondered what distant fairy tale land this woman washed ashore from, because even normal people were not usually this nice. Not in the majority of her experiences, at least.
"Thanks. And speaking of my friends…" Lara adjusted her goggles slightly. "About five miles north of here is the kids' home. Sarah and Isaac are running it with their own money, but it's in a sorry state. It's why I gave them the prize money. I want it fixed up. And the kids given new clothes and schooling. It's time they had a proper home."
"Consider it done," said Eric. "I'll send craftsmen first thing tomorrow morning."
"What happened that it needs so much work?" asked Ariel.
Lara grit her teeth for a moment, but quickly relaxed. "That's my third condition. I want that lowlife Richard tried in court."
"Mind your tone, miss!" snapped Grimsby, reminding everyone he was still in the room. "Lord Avitas is one of this court's most respected members!"
Lara scowled at Grimsby. "That 'respected court member'has a list of crimes long enough to make a sail with."
"Which you made quite a spectacle about with your claim of his guilt," said Grimsby.
"Was I making a spectacle when he struck Jenni? Or when he spouted off at everyone?"
Grimsby said nothing, instead choosing to tactfully look away from her. A low growl escaped Lara's throat. Her opinion of the advisor just took a serious blow.
"Grimsby's right," said Eric. "Despite what happened today, we can't charge him for crimes if there's no evidence. He'll face consequences for striking the girl, but beyond that there's nothing more I can do."
"You want evidence?" said Lara. "You got it before the tournament even started."
Grimsby's brow furrowed. "Explain."
"Several packages should have been delivered to the palace today," said Lara. "About as tall and wide as a page of paper, and this thick."
Eric nodded. "Yes. I'm told they came just before the tournament started. They're in my study right now."
Lara felt a great relief. A part of her was worried Richard would somehow find the pages and destroy them. She was glad to hear those worries were unfounded. "Those packages are statements from every person Richard wronged, including documents tracking his dirty money."
Eric's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean all those papers are about Richard?"
"All of them. One of those statements should be from Sarah and Isaac. But since I have you here, I'll tell you their story myself."
Melody came in view of the dining hall doors just as Grimsby exited them. She had donned a simple blue dress, leaving her tiara and jewelry in her room. Her tears were spent, though her mood had not improved much. The flashback had been as hard on her as any other, leaving her emotionally and physically drained.
Apparently, Grimsby's evening was not going much better than hers. Not if his stiff legged stride and tight lips were any indication. He looked vexed and more than a tad annoyed as he strode towards her. She would have bet a week of not swimming that Lara had something to do with it.
"Grimsby? Is everything all right?" asked Melody.
"That remains to be seen, your highness," Grimsby said, masking his inner feelings behind his ever-respectful tone. "His majesty has sent me to issue an arrest warrant."
"Arrest? For who?"
"Lord Avitas, milady."
Melody's eyes widened considerably. "Lord Avitas? Is this about what happened in the arena?"
Grimsby nodded. "If that roguish woman in there is to be believed, those accusations she voiced may not be entirely unfounded. If you'll excuse me." He bowed politely and left, leaving Melody very confused and equally shocked.
At that moment she heard a loud thump from the dining hall.
"I can't believe this!" came her father's muffled but angry voice from behind the doors. "Right under our noses! The entire time!?"
"Why would he do this!?" asked Ariel. "Why didn't anyone say anything!?"
"Because they were afraid," said Lara's voice. Melody trotted up and pressed her ear to the door. "Richard used every trick he could to silence them. It's how his kind operate. Believe me, those statements were hard to get, and I didn't get one from all his victims. There were scared he'd come after them if they confessed."
Melody was properly confused now. Confessions? People afraid? Richard blackmailing? What were they talking about in there?
"I promise you Richard will pay for what he's done!" said Eric. "We'll start an investigation immediately!"
"I hope so," said Lara. Melody heard her take a deep breath and sigh, as though clearing her lungs of their conversation. "I still have two more conditions. Actually, this first one's more of an errand. I need to visit a friend of mine in the mountains. He's been holding onto my sword for me. Shouldn't take more than a few days to get it and pay him back, but I'll need a horse."
Melody scowled. So she accepted after all. Great. She was no longer a bird in a palace-sized cage. She was a princess on a leash.
"Done," said Eric. "You'll have the pick of our stables. You won't find finer or faster horses anywhere in the Alliance."
"And if you need money, we can lend you some," added Ariel. "Within reason, that is."
"Thanks, but he doesn't value gold or jewels at all."
"Well, what does he value?" asked Ariel.
"Let's see…" There was a pause before Lara spoke. "Ten shoots from your willow tree, thirty acorns from the forest, and…I think ten branches from the cherry trees will about cover it."
Melody pulled away, twisted a finger in her ear as though clearing something out, and then pressed it to the door again. Had she just heard correctly? What did Lara want with what amounted to garden clippings?
"Willow…branches?" asked Eric, clearly as confused as she was.
"Hey, it's his preference, not mine," said Lara.
"If that's what he wants then we can definitely help you," said Ariel.
Melody was not sure which emotion was stronger, her confusion or her indignation. What sort of person valued twigs and seeds over gold and jewels? And what nerve Lara had to make conditions for her service! Not even the court members were bold enough to try that with her parents. She herself was not bold enough to attempt it. Did this woman have no respect for anyone?
"You can come in, princess," called Lara. "I don't bite…usually."
Melody jumped. How did Lara know she was there? Was it a lucky guess? There was no way she actually heard her, but that confidence in her voice said otherwise. She shyly opened the door and strode in, closing it behind her. Lara was standing with her parents, the little girl named Jenni clutching her leg. The hair on Melody's neck stood up as she met Lara's eyes. They were even more unsettling up close.
"I'm sure," Melody replied smartly.
Lara cocked a brow slightly before turning back to Ariel and Eric. "My final condition is I stay in Melody's room."
"No way!" Melody blurted out, triggered by her offense and disbelief at Lara's request. All eyes turned to her, surprised by her outburst. Except for Jenni, who hid further behind Lara.
"Uh, I mean…" Melody shifted nervously under their gaze. "I would prefer if Lara respected the privacy of my room. Couldn't we find her one close by?"
"I have to agree," said Eric. "There's no need for you to share a room. We have plenty of space here. We can put you in the one across from hers."
Lara folded her arms over her chest. "Are you hiring me as a guardian or a houseguest?"
"As a guardian, of course," said Ariel.
"Then don't ask me to be a houseguest," replied Lara sharply. "I'm not gonna treat this as a weekend retreat and you shouldn't either. How am I supposed to keep an eye on her if I can't even see her?"
"If you're so worried then sleep at the door," said Melody sharply.
Lara scowled at her, golden eyes narrowing. "Okay, princess. One, I'm your guardian, not your golden retriever. Two, I won't be sleeping much if I'm protecting you. I'd be a crap guardian if I did. And three, me being outside your door is the same as me in a different room. I won't be able to see you and I won't hear you as well. I'd rather not have the first sign of trouble be you screaming when there's a knife at your throat. But if that's how you want it…"
Melody gulped. She touched a hand to her neck, remembering the feel of the impostor maid's hands around her throat. Just the memory made her hair stand on end.
Lara looked to Ariel. "I stay in her room or I don't stay at all."
Ariel looked pleadingly at Melody. She might as well have been on her hands and knees begging her. Eric had a similar look on his face. Melody used to pull that look on her parents when she was younger. She suddenly understood why they had so rarely refused it. Not that it mattered now. They could just order Lara to stay there if they wanted. She really had no say in it.
"Fine," she muttered disappointedly. "You can stay in my room."
Lara gave a polite nod. "You'll barely notice I'm there."
"Not with those peepers I won't," Melody whispered under her breath.
"If my eyes bother you then don't look at them."
Melody flinched as though Lara struck her. She had trouble hearing her own barb, and she was the one who said it. Just how good was Lara's hearing? If she did not know any better, she would say the woman could read her mind. And she was supposed to share a room with her now? Maybe she would be the one to find somewhere else to sleep.
At that moment there was a knock at the door. "Dinner is ready, your majesties," called Carlotta from the hall. A moment later the door rattled. "Um…your majesties, it appears to be locked."
Melody looked at the handle, seeing the latch had indeed been set. She must have done it on accident when she entered.
"I'll get it," said Ariel as she walked past Lara. "Are the children with you?"
"Yes, your highness. They're coming soon…ah, here they are now!"
The sound of dozens of feet reached Melody's ears the moment Ariel unlocked the door.
Suddenly Lara bolted after her. "Ariel, wait! The kids–!"
Ariel was barely able to utter a startled shriek before she disappeared under a tangle of limbs and clothes as the children flowed through the door, falling in an unceremonious heap on the floor and on top of her.
Lara skidded to a stop, cringing as the last child came through and tripped onto the pile. "…Tend to rush the door."
Sarah rounded the doorway, hands on her hips as she scowled disapprovingly at the pile of children. "For the thousandth time! What have I told you all about–?" Her voice caught in her throat when she saw whom the children had piled onto. "Your highness! Get off her this instant! You're sitting on her majesty the queen! Off! Off her right now, all of you!"
Melody watched as Lara worked with a mortified Sarah and Carlotta to extract Ariel from the pile of children, who insisted that she was all right. Eric was explaining to Jenni that he would personally guarantee that she could come visit Lara even if he had to fetch her himself, which apparently sounded just fine to the little girl. Ariel smiled as Lara helped her to her feet as Sarah apologized profusely for the children's recklessness.
Melody clenched her hands as she caught the look in her mother's eyes. She knew that look. Normally it was reassuring to Melody, but now it was terrifying as well. It was a look of trust. Not even a day and her mother was already starting to trust Lara. How could she trust someone like that?
A disturbing thought crossed her mind as she saw her new guardian's arm. She knew for a fact Lara had been cut on her arms and hands. She saw it happen in the arena.
So where were the wounds?
Seahaven's hospital was not a striking building even at four stories tall. It had all the traits of the other buildings that made up the town–white walls, terra cotta roof, iron framed windows, and oak doors. The design was a large hollow rectangle with a well-manicured garden and lawn in the center. Windows covered the walls, some open to enjoy the cool evening air while others had flowers on their sills. Occasionally a doctor or nurse was visible in the windows as they checked on their patients.
Richard lay asleep in a bed on the fourth floor. His body was swathed in bandages and his limbs bound in splints. His back was tied to a long metal rod to keep it straight. His jaw was tied shut by a large cloth wrapped around his head. A glass of water stood on a bed stand next to him, the fluid playing with the light from the failing sun. A plain white robe was draped over the edge of the bed, a formality more than a necessity.
A beam of light refracted off the window at just the right angle, sending flecks of glare racing across his face. The broken man flinched at the rude light as he awoke, slowly opening his eyes. Where was he? The world was fuzzy and blurred, his senses still dulled by the drugs in his body. He remembered flying through the air and then…
It came back in a flash of clarity. The blows raining down one after the other. His bones cracking and breaking. Trying to get up and failing. The rage as he glared into those golden yellow eyes, and then the shock of seeing an unmarked hand that should have been split open. Those men rolling him onto the stretcher as Lara walked away. The pain from his injuries was so extreme that just carrying him was agony. They had to give him something to make him sleep.
Because of what she did to him.
"Lara!" shouted Richard, bolting upright in bed. Instantly his body erupted with white-hot pain. He cried out, quickly lying back and shouting again at the torment it caused him. He drew a sharp hissing breath, adding to the pain as his broken ribs and jaw shifted. He fought to keep his breaths shallow despite his instinct to breathe deep. For some reason he could not feel his legs.
"Beat you to a pulp, didn't she?"
Richard whipped his head to the side, too startled to notice the pain it caused him. A woman sat in a chair beside his bed, hands folded quietly in her lap. She wore a deep navy dress with a matching veil over her face. Leaning on the door behind her was the largest man Richard had ever seen. Even larger than his half-brained escorts. He easily stood over eight feet tall with orange hair and piercing electric blue eyes. There was an unsettling hunger in them as he watched Richard, as though he was eyeing a roast turkey ready for carving.
More worrying were the two unconscious guards at his feet bleeding from wounds to their heads.
"Who…are you?" asked Richard through his teeth, trying not to move his broken jaw.
"Just two spectators checking how the runner-up is faring," said the woman, her tone unusually soothing. "You took a real thrashing out there. I'm actually impressed…that your guts didn't spill out, that is."
Richard growled in his throat as he turned back to the ceiling. Just what he needed–a reminder of his loss the moment he awoke. He clenched his fists, ignoring the searing pain in his left arm. This was beyond humiliating. It was downright outrageous. Not only had the person he swore vengeance on beaten him in front of the entire kingdom, but he turned out to be a woman! A woman beat him! Richard Avitas, the best swordsman in the entire Alliance and one of the most powerful members of Seahaven's higher circles, was beaten before the rabble by some shrapnel-faced wench with her bare fists! The same one that led him on a wild goose-chase through Seahaven for weeks after publicly disgracing him! His ancestors would be rolling in their graves. He could already hear his parent's voices reprimanding him. Not fast enough, or smart enough, or strong enough to be worthy of the name Avitas.
"I'll kill her," he growled. "I swear I'll kill her! I will get my revenge on that whore!" He turned his head to the window. "Do you hear me, Lara Anclagon?! I swear on the name of Avitas I'll kill you with my own hands!"
Remora chuckled, smirking under her mask as Richard grimaced at the pain his outburst caused him. This was easier than fishing for sharks. She barely put a drop of blood in the water and Richard was already eager to bite. All she had to do now was dangle the bait in front of him, the hook hidden deep inside.
"Well isn't that a coincidence?" said Remora, resting her chin in her hand. "Looks like you and I have something in common."
Richard turned back to her. "And what would that be?"
"We both want her dead. Difference is I'll be the one to do it."
"She's mine!" spat Richard. "What business do you have with her?"
"That's not for you to know," said Richard. "And you're in no position to be marking anyone as yours, boy."
"Boy? Listen here you little–!"
Remora darted off her chair, fingers curled into claws. Electricity arced between her fingertips as she drove one hand into Richard's side, digging into his broken ribs like an eagle's talons through a fish. Richard would have cried out if the electricity she pumped through him did not have him seizing on the bed. The vibrations were unbearable on his broken bones.
"Shut up!" snapped Remora, releasing him after a full ten seconds of her torture. Richard lay gasping on the bed, trying to pull himself back together. "As I was saying, we both want Lara dead. But unlike you, I actually have what it takes to finish the job. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a battered sack of chum. You can't even use your legs anymore."
"Then I guess she's all yours," sneered Richard. "So why haven't you finished her off?"
Remora's smirk turned into an angry scowl. "Because unlike you, I serve more than my own interests. I've got orders to leave her be for now. And unlike some of my associates, I know better than to go sneaking behind my master's back."
Richard maintained his scowl despite the discomfort it caused him. "So what do you want with me?"
"Your future." Remora sat back in the chair and crossed her legs. "Your crimes here have piqued my master's interests. He's invited you to serve him. Given your condition he sent us to fetch you."
"Pah!" Richard scoffed loudly. "He sent you? What are you two supposed to do for me? Play nurse?"
Riptide hissed as he marched towards the bed. "Watch your tongue, you spineless pip–!"
Remora halted him with a wave of her hand. He hissed at Richard, but then retreated to the door. As tempting as it would be to let Riptide eat one of Richard's legs for his insolence, Remora was not about to disobey her orders. That, and with the trauma to his spine, Richard would not feel any of it.
"There's not much we can do," said Remora. "Not in your current state. My skillset is better suited to destroying, not fixing. Twisting at best." She extracted the vial of dark fluid from her dress and held it up for Richard to see. "The Master, however, is not so limited in his abilities."
Richard eyed the contents curiously, entranced by how it seemed to devour the light instead of letting it pass through. "What's that supposed to be?"
Remora gently shook the vial, causing the fluid to swirl about like captured smoke. "My Master cooked this up specially for you. Drink it and you'll walk out of here stronger, faster, and tougher than before."
Richard narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the price?"
Remora shrugged innocently. "No price."
"Liar. Your boss wouldn't be offering this if he didn't want something in return. So what is it?"
Remora chuckled. "You're not as stupid as you look."
"And you're not as clever as you think."
"I'll take splattering over strategy any day. Yes, there's a catch. If you drink this, you come with us immediately. You give up everything you have. Your estate, your money, your minions, your title. Everything."
Richard felt his gut twist nervously. "Everything?"
"Down to the last penny," said Remora. "You leave with your body and that robe, and you don't come back for any of it." She leaned close to him. "But before you say no, consider your options. Lara's shown this kingdom what you really are. She'll use the king to make an example out of you. You'll be stripped of everything you have and waste away in a cell somewhere. Come with us and you'll still lose it all, but you'll get the means to take it back. All of it, and more. You think you're strong now? That you've got power and wealth? It's cheap tricks compared to us. Power, strength, women, gold, revenge–it can be yours for the taking."
She placed the vial in Richard's upturned palm. "All you have to do is drink."
Richard stared at the vial. It seemed too good to be true, but what if it was? Assuming this strange woman and her giant partner were not trying to trick him, all he had to do was drink this strange fluid and he could get out of the hospital. He would be able to take his revenge on Lara, and Sarah, and everyone that raised their voices against him. He would be free of the double life he lived here, able to live by his true nature. Able to take as he pleased, striking down anyone who told him otherwise.
But drinking meant abandoning the comforts of his position here. He had a luxurious mansion filled with servants, some more personal than others. He had wealth few could dream of. He had influence with the king, although that could soon change. He was untouchable. If he became a traitor…
Then he remembered those eyes. Those blasphemous golden orbs staring down as he lay mangled in the dirt. The rage and humiliation he felt as he lay under Lara's gaze. How she looked on him not only with anger and disgust, but pity, as though he were some weak baby crying in the mud. His blood boiled at the thought of that woman walking free, worshiped by the masses while he lay broken and battered in bed.
Remora reached for the vial. "But if you're not interested we'll just–."
Richard brought the vial to his lips, pulling off the stopper with his teeth and then drinking every drop of the fluid. It had no taste or substance as he gulped, feeling as though liquefied air was slipping down his throat. The only thing telling him he was drinking something was the slightly warm sensation in his mouth.
Remora smirked under her mask as she watched him drink. The lower rungs of the human race were so predictable. Little more than greedy vicious animals. Toss a loaf of bread into a crowd of starving beggars and they would rip each other apart trying to take it all for themselves.
Richard pulled the vial from his lips. He expected to feel something happen, but he felt nothing. The pain was still there. He flexed his left arm and winced. The bones were still broken.
"Your potion didn't work!" he spat. "Your words are empty as your–!"
A searing pain tore through his body, cutting off his words. The pain of his broken bones was pleasant compared to the undiluted torture now coursing through him. He felt as though his body was being wrung like a wet rag. His back arched violently, mouth open in a silent choking scream. The vial slipped from his hand to the floor as he flailed about. He wished for death, for someone to run him through or bash his head in with a rock. Anything to end this indescribable agony. He thought he would die the pain was so great. He would meet his end in this hospital room, alone and afraid as the pain ripped him apart.
And then it stopped. The pain disappeared in an instant. He lay panting on the bed, drenched in sweat and red in the face. He thought his heart would leap from his chest it was beating so fast, but already he could feel it slowing.
Remora rose from her seat, pushing the chair aside. "Time to see if it worked."
Without warning she drew her arm back and swung for his face. Richard reacted on instinct and grabbed her wrist with his left hand, stopping her strike dead in its path.
Then he remembered it was broken. He braced, waiting for the pain to hit. But it did not come. His arm felt fine. Remora pushed hard against him, exerting surprising strength for her frame. He pushed back harder, arm straining to keep her at bay. Still no pain.
"Good." Remora wrenched her arm away. "Now get up."
Hesitantly Richard propped himself on his arms. He should be feeling pain everywhere. His right collarbone was completely broken. His left arm and hand were shattered. His ribs were broken in over two-dozen places. Yet he felt not the slightest discomfort. He swung his legs off the bedside. He could feel his legs. He wiggled his toes, amazed to see them move. He gingerly stood up. Nothing. He bounced lightly on his feet, taking a deep breath as he did so. Still nothing. He felt fine. Great, in fact. He had never felt this good.
Remora snapped her fingers. "Riptide."
The giant rushed Richard with astonishing speed, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the bed. His mouth opened to an impossible angle, revealing long fang-like teeth. He lunged for Richard's throat, but he caught the giant's neck and held him back.
A long blue tongue snaked past the humanoid's fangs, wrapping around Richard's arm and pulling it into his mouth. Richard cried out as the fangs sunk deep into his flesh. Riptide threw his head side to side, aggravating the bite further.
"That's enough," said Remora calmly.
Riptide continued to bite Richard's arm, intoxicated by the taste of human blood.
"I said enough!" warned Remora, red lightning arcing down her arm. "Back off before I make you!"
The threat did the trick. Riptide released Richard's arm and stepped back. His tongue snaked out, licking the blood off his lips. He hissed, savoring the salty iron taste. Richard clutched his bleeding arm, gritting his teeth against the pain. The punctures bled freely, dripping onto the sheets.
"That'll do," said Remora, walking over and seizing Richard's arm.
"What are you doing?!" Richard shouted. "What was that about!?"
"Testing your new body."
"My new what!?"
Remora pointed to his arm. "I'd watch if I were you."
A tingling sensation spread over Richard's arm. Before his eyes the punctures started healing over. He watched as the blood sunk into his skin as the holes zipped closed, stitching back together. There was not even a scar left.
"Excellent," said Remora as she pulled Richard onto his feet. "It's already started. Now…" She reached behind her, pulling out a short knife. "Hold still or I might cut something off."
Richard took a step back. "Wait, what are you–?"
The knife flew out of Remora's hand as though wielded by phantasms. It flew around Richard like a hummingbird, cutting here and slashing there as it made quick work of the bandages and splints covering his body. Within seconds they lay in pieces at his feet, his only clothing the shredded undergarments covering his lower half.
Richard looked himself over. He could scarcely believe it. He should be covered head to toe in ugly dark bruises where Lara pounded him, yet all he saw was unmarred skin over chiseled muscle he had not possessed before. He looked his arm over. A bite like the one that man had given him would take months to heal. He flexed his arm, checking the muscles for any trace of damage. He felt nothing to suggest it.
Riptide perked up like a dog catching an inaudible sound. He strode over to the window and peered out. "We're going to have company."
Remora joined her accomplice at the window, the knife following her in midair. She saw a group of ten guards marching in file towards the hospital, a rolled-up parchment clasped in the leader's hand.
"That was quick." She walked briskly to the door, holding her palm near the knob. Electricity rolled off her skin, heating the metal until it deformed. "We're leaving. Get that robe on, boy. Unless you'd rather meet the Master in–."
CRACK!
Remora's spun around, eyes wide with surprise beneath the mask and veil.
Blood dripped out of Richard's clenched fist. He slowly opened it, revealing the broken remains of the vial. The glass was embedded deep in his palm, red droplets falling to the floor. He watched in fascination as the blood resorbed through his skin, the wounds closing as the glass was pushed out. It fell to the floor with a delicate tinkling noise. He flexed his hand. There was absolutely no trace of the damage the glass should have caused. Even the pain when he crushed the vial had been minimal.
He clenched his fist tight. He had power. Power just like Lara's. With this revenge could be his. He could squash that woman like a bug under his heel. A low chuckle escaped his lips, quickly growing into full-blown maniacal laughter.
Remora smirked. "Enjoying the new tricks?"
Richard turned to face her, his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. "Immensely! This is beyond perfect! Well worth leaving this place!"
"Then get your hide moving before the guards come!" she snapped. "I'd take care of them my way, but we're going for covert this time around!"
She walked to the wall. Red electricity snaked down her arm as she thrust her palm to the wood. It spread out, forming a circle of crackling electrical threads. The circle turned dark, transforming the wall into a pitch-black canvas.
"That's covert?" asked Richard, eyeing the dark hole suspiciously as he put on the robe.
"That's a portal," said Remora. "And you're going through it."
Riptide licked his lips as he watched the guards from the window. "Can I have some?"
"No," said Remora. "Stuff your face when we get back. Now come on!"
Riptide grumbled bad-temperedly but headed for the portal, moving surprisingly quiet for someone so large.
"Wait!" The two villains looked to Richard, still standing by his bed as he tied his robe on. "Before I step through that thing, I want your names. Who are you two?"
Remora considered sticking her knife somewhere in Richard and dragging him through by it. He would survive with his new regeneration. But she was feeling oddly generous, willing to entertain his request instead of crushing it. He would find out eventually. Why not tell him now? They could spare a few seconds.
"That's right," she said. "We haven't introduced ourselves."
Richard's eyes widened in surprise as she raised her veil, revealing the smiling gold mask underneath. Her breathing was clearer now, the air passing across the smile with a metallic undertone. "My name is Remora, vice-commander and the Master's right hand. My gluttonous associate here is Riptide, the third seat and his left hand."
The giant smiled, revealing the razor-sharp teeth to Richard. He hissed like a snake, tongue coming out to pass over his fangs. "You'll find my true form far more impressive, I assure you."
Richard crossed an arm over his chest, bowing slightly at his waist. "Lord Richard Avitas, at your service."
The sorceress suppressed a smirk as Riptide stepped into the portal, the darkness swallowing him whole. "I'm banking on it."
Richard grinned curiously. "This group I'm joining…does it have a name?"
"It does." Remora's face split in a murderous smile under her disguise. "Welcome to Maelstrom."
A/N: Maelstrom. A powerful whirlpool capable of dragging a ship to the bottom of the sea. That is the nature of this enemy. But the ship shall not be drowned so easily, nor its passengers guided blindly into its grasp. Oaths are taken in the light and the dark, one in the name of integrity and one in the name of revenge. But while Richard is welcomed, Lara is shunned, her service unwanted by her charge. The tempest is still far off, but it will not be smooth sailing before it comes.
As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Little Mermaid," Disney, or any of its associated characters and intellectual property. Everything else, however, is mine =)
