Her breath painted the glass pane in front of her, peering inside she watched the group of soldiers guzzle back mugs of ale and devour chunks of cold meat, her stomach roared out, she ducked as one of the men, convinced he heard something outside turn to the window. She held both hands over her stomach, made a silent promise to it, food after the job is done, with only seven guards on duty this shouldn’t be a problem, she can easily take them out, make her way upstairs and grab what she needed to and be gone before anyone else knew she’d even been there. Lost in her smug, she failed to notice the eighth guard approaching from behind until he was almost on top of her, his footprints were heavy in the snow, crushing powdered flakes beneath his leathery boots, the squelching alerted her just in time for her to spin around the blade. She eyed the hired guard, he was tall, broad, strong, perfect this was exactly how she liked them, between the weight of his wet clothes, his heavy broadsword and his own body his ability to move was limited. Pulling her black hood down over her face, she turned and ran into the night air within seconds she lost her pursuer, his heavy pants and gasps for cold air
quietened with each step she made until finally the Guard Tower and all it’s occupants were nothing but a tiny light on the horizon. It was the first lesson she taught herself, if you get caught run! She didn’t exactly have a long list of rules but what she did have she stuck by, never rob from those who can’t afford to be robbed, never kill, maiming and injuring was alright but most importantly above all else was to always work alone. She crawled under the cart she stole from a farm that looked abandoned, she could lie to herself so easily, she smiled; it was all part of her charm. When she wasn’t stealing from the rich and keeping it all for herself she was actually a good person aside from the stealing... and the maiming... well she told some good stories and she had a way with children, probably because she was still nearly a child herself, this was her life and she loved it. She reached out for the satchel and rummaged in the dark bag for the food she’d also managed to pinch from that abandoned farm. The bread was soft and fresh, the strips of meat were spicy but when accompanied by the wheel of cheese she’d also taken it was a lot easier to eat. She smiled again, her stomach now at peace
peering out from a crack in the cart, she could still probably make her mark before sunrise now that she knew there were eight guards. As she sat there, finishing her liberated supper she began to think that maybe that farm wasn’t actually abandoned at all...
...
The marketplace was dead, it was still early but Monroe was already out of her cot and making her way down to her makeshift stall at the end of Gate street; a peculiar name for a street without actually any gates on it or even near it, that thought always amused her. Her bones ached, a reminder that she needed to replace the bed, a chore she’d been meaning to do now for a few months but had been putting off not because of the expense but more the chore of lugging it back to her bedsit by herself. She was a small woman, faded brown hair, aged but not old, her deep green eyes highlighted by her pale skin, she mostly kept to herself bar a few familiar customers and the odd acquaintance she’d met in the ‘Smoking Pipe’ pub, so there was really no one to assist her in moving the bed so until she found someone
willing to do it cheaply enough she would continue to put it off. Since she arrived in city she had done her best to not raise attention, she’d just enough to open this stall and rent the hovel she called a home for a few weeks, if business hadn’t been so good she’d probably be homeless at this stage. By now a few other stall owners had arrived at the marketplace, she recognised them but didn’t pay them any acknowledgement, ‘competitors’ was too generous a word for these people but they weren’t exactly welcoming to her when she first arrived and pleasantries were cold and quick if they even occurred at all. Heaving her bag onto the wooden table she unclasped the mock gold latch and began to rifle through it, collecting several vials and small jars between her long fingers she placed them on the stall. She then draped a purple cloth over a quarter of the table, covering it sporadically in glowing stones and crystals before finally placing a mortar and pestle, she clambered between her stall and the wall, squeezing through the tight fit and settling down on the flimsy stool.
It would be a while before her first customer so she began to root through her bag once more searching for the herbs she’d acquired the day before last. Frog Weed, it was free because it grew everywhere in this city and was one of her best selling items, after all she was the only vendor she knew of that knew how to prepare it properly in order to ward off the side effects of a heavy night’s drinking. She was just set to prepare the treatment of the weed when something on the wall caught the corner of her eye, she turned her head slowly, it was a wanted poster, with her face on it, ‘Wanted for Questioning. 25 Gold Pieces Reward for any information that leads to her capture’. Not exactly a lot of money to entice a professional hunter but someone down on their luck or cash strapped enough could be desperate enough to go looking for her, it was time for a change she thought to herself reaching into her bag once more, looking for something very particular, her fingers wrapping around it, ‘Red hair’ she thought to herself before ducking down into the alley and into the cover of the shadows. ...
She had crept back to the tower, her footsteps quick and light barely leaving a print in the fresh fall of snow, this time she circled the tower to make sure there was no patrol. It was later now, closer to morning than night, any guard on duty would be on the tower. The door, whispered open, reaching into the leather pouch on her right hip she grabbed the bottle, shaking it quickly she flicked the cork open and in almost the same motion she rolled it onto the floor. The vapour was fast acting, almost entirely odourless but for the slightest trace of mint berry she’d mixed it with for her own safety, after a few seconds a light smoke appeared in the room, she’d gotten the mixture right this time. It was a type of knockout gas forcing those unfortunate enough to inhale it to fall into a deep sleep lasting anywhere between ten and well anybody’s guess hours. No need to be delicate as she entered the room, her face masked, she counted the guards, seven asleep so one was on duty on the tower and if she was really lucky there’d be no need to bother him. She was looking for something that had been confiscated off her the day before while she was innocently picking pockets and purses in the marketplace of the local town, one of her longer blades,
one only ever used in dire situations and even then only used to threaten, hardly sentimental and easily replaced but it was the principle of the matter. It wasn’t on this floor, she crept up the steps leading to the second and third floor, she heard the door at the top of the tower close, she pinned herself to the inside wall, waiting, listening, footsteps, well it looks like she’d have to deal with this soldier too. Tezuka placed a single dagger on the step then hoisted herself up on to the beams overhead, she held her breath and locked her arms, the steps grew louder and heavier until they were under her, it was her friend from before, she didn’t need the blade to get this one’s attention; ‘Hey handsome’, the guard looked up as Tezuka dropped down on top of him, her hands catching his neck, the space to manoeuvre was limited but she could do this, she curled and coiled around his body, slipping from his neck, in between his huge hands, down his back before wrapping tightly around his legs and throwing her entire weight forward, his balance was lost and he fell downward, the hard stone floor rushing up to meet him with a loud and somewhat painful embrace.
She watched him hit the floor, nudging him with her foot, he was out, he wasn’t dead but he’d wake up with a pretty sore head. Her search was quick but thorough, the blade wasn’t here. Shrugging her shoulders, maybe it was the guard tower on the other side of town, letting out a sigh she helped herself to the gold purses strapped to each guard before slipping out of the tower and closing the door gently behind her. Outside the sun was beginning to rise, Tezuka reached up and stretched out her body before setting off in the direction of the next town. ...
Chapter III Secrets in the Water Coming soon...