2nd Cylus, 717
Anos rolled over, groaning as two pots clanged loudly mere feet from his head. He cracked open one eye, wincing at the bright light.
“Get up. It’s checkout,” a man’s voice said sardonically.
There was a loud groan coming from the floor next to him, but Anos ignored it and rose. His anger had burned bright last night, and had the door been able to be opened from inside, there would’ve been a fight. Now, however, Anos was more embarrassed by his foolishness. He should’ve asked to see the room before hand, and he definitely should’ve been more sceptical about such a good deal.
“Dirge, I expect my nel this week.”
There was no response, but Anos could sense that Dirge was purposely ignoring Jarris. Silently, he gathered his things and followed Dirge outside. The cold air burned Anos’ nostrils, and he groaned and stretched loudly. Anos’ eyes grew wide as he saw the heavy blanket of snow that covered everything in sight. It looked like a foot at least, all fallen overnight. He was staring about in awe when Dirge interrupted him.
“So, lad. If you were working for that bastard for free lodging, how would you feel about earning a few extra nel today? I’ve a job that needs doing, and you seem to be able to handle yourself in a fight.”
Anos looked at Dirge, for the first time seeing his features. His nose was fat and wide, several lumps serving as evidence of having broken it. His brow hung low over his eyes. Overall, his features were broad and heavy, as was the man, as if he had been moulded to be a foot taller, but someone accidentally stepped on him part way through.
“Um…” Anos glanced around. There was no way they’d be leaving now. He remembered their captain saying something about picking up a shipment here. That would undoubtedly be delayed now, so he nothing better to do. “Sure, why not. What does it involve?”
“Nothing too difficult- just some deliveries. They’re in some of the shadier parts of town, and I wouldn’t mind another set of eyes. You got a sword or something?” He said, glancing around Anos’ waist.
“No… Nothing like that. Just this,” he said, gesturing to his staff. “That’s all I really need. What kind of deliveries though?”
The man raised an eyebrow, sceptical, but didn’t press any further. “Some… medicine. The good doctor has us delivering medications to those in town who need it. Some other people would like to get their hands on that medicine though.”
Anos nodded- seemed simple enough. He knew from previous experience how expensive medication was. He paused the man and grabbed his horse, earning himself a look from Dirge. The man obviously didn’t expect him to have a horse, and when Anos donned the chainmail with the Dragon ensignia, he saw Dirge quickly reassessing him.
Anos led the horse by its bridle through the streets, unwilling to mount the beast and have it disobey. Dirge led him back to what Anos could only assume was his own house. It was normal looking for Almund, a mess of old, scuttled ships and drifwood, but was notably missing he carvings most other houses had. He told Anos to wait outside, and he disappeared inside for a moment.
Several bits later he emerged, a heavy sack slung over one shoulder.
“Right. Let’s get off then.”
The job seemed simple enough- they would walk through the streets, followed Dirge’s unerring sense of direction, every once in a while he would stop and knock on a door. He would disappear inside, and several bits later emerge. Nothing happened, and Anos felt himself begin to relax.
Of course, that was when everything went downhill fast.
It was two men, one at either end of the street. Anos didn’t think anything of it until he heard Dirge’s muffled oath.
“Time to earn your bread lad,” he muttered. “See the way they’re walking? They’re carrying swords under their cloaks.”
Anos watched, aware now, and saw the slight swagger in their step, the odd swing as they moved.
Moving quickly Dirge pulled a shortsword from his belt and advanced on the one in front of them. Anos, not wasting any time, dropped his bag in the snow and rolled his shoulders. He was a bit stiff after yestertrial, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would’ve been and there was no pain when he moved.
His eyes narrowed in on his target, certain things jumping out to him. The man was right handed, based on the uneven slant of his shoulders. He wasn’t a veteran swordsman- he didn’t have that fluidity to his movements that those who trained with weapons often did. He would be what had been affectionately referred to as a “hack n’ slasher” by his trainers in Andaris.
When the man drew his sword, Anos was ready. His staff whistled through the air, sweeping towards the man’s sword arm. He moved easily out of the way, but Anos used the other end to keep his momentum and attack again. The sword blocked this strike, sparks flying from the edge. Anos paused and took a few steps back, watching the man move.
His attacker charged, still silent. The sword was raised overhead, intending to slash down on Anos’ head, but he blocked it easily. With the sword raised so high, Anos stepped close and tried to knee the man in the stomach. The man dropped one hand off the sword to catch Anos’ knee, and blocked the attempt.
He punched out, catching Anos in the gut. He folded over, gasping, but forced himself to use the momentum. He swung his staff around, catching the attacker’s thigh.
The man cried out, the first noise Anos had heard since the fight started, and stepped back to catch his breath.
It had only been trills, but it felt far longer to Anos. He didn’t give the man any time, and pressed his advantage. The staff whirred as Anos mixed up his attacks- overheads, sideswipes and uppercuts. The man did a good job of blocking, but Anos was noticing a pattern. When Anos swung a side attack, the man blocked in such a way that he could easily readjust the blow to strike him in the leg.
Before he did anything, the man held up a gloved hand, panting. “Just give us our money back and we’ll let you go. We ain’t gonna pay this protection anymore.” The man’s voice was shaky and nervous, as if he were terrified. Anos gazed into the man’s eyes, the vision taking over. It was the man, but shorter, almost as if he were a child. He walked on shaky legs forward, pushing open a room to the smell of strong medications and sickness. A man scooped him up onto the bed where a woman lay- his mother, Anos guessed. She stretched out a hand, imploring the man, her child, to take it, but the boy turned and ran from the room, jerking himself free from his father’s embrace.
Then Anos was back.
Before he could reply, ask what the man meant, the tip of a blade appeared through the man’s chest, and he collapsed to the ground.
His vision cleared, and Anos realized that Dirge had snuck up behind the man.
“By the seven, why did you do that?” Anos nearly shouted, looking down at the man. He knew enough about how the body worked to tell that he was dead. He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of more crimson spread across the snow.
“Did you kill them both? Why would you do that!? And what was he saying, something about ‘protection’?” Anos shouted again, and Dirge crossed the distance between them.
“Say it again, a little louder why don’t you,” he said, his face mere inches from Anos’ chest. The height difference made the threat almost comical, but Anos was in no mood to laugh.
Dirge was far too close to him and Anos reacted instinctively, swinging his staff to clobber the shorter man. It connected with his knees, sending him sprawling.
“Don’t ever get that close to me again,” Anos warned, but kept his voice quieter. There was still no one on the streets, but the bodies were beginning to cool. They had to report them now.
Dirge clambered to his feet, his face bright red. He stared at Anos for a moment, and nodded. His eyes were hard and flinty as he spoke. “It was us or them. Now let’s go. They tried to kill us, you saw. I don’t know what you thought you heard, but it’d be a shame to leave three bodies here instead of just two.”
Anos’ blood ran cold as he registered what had just been said. His eyes froze and he locked gazes with Dirge.
It was Dirge that gave in first.
Without missing a beat he pulled an overcoat from his bag and buckled it around the bloodstained shirt he was wearing.
“Let’s go.”
________________________________________
Anos left Dirge by his house, both men disgusted with the other. The rest of the ‘drop offs’ had gone by without issue, but Anos felt dirty.
It wasn’t the first time he had killed someone- that had been the Steward in Andaris. But the strength of that vision and the powerful feelings that had accompanied it… he hadn’t looked back, hadn’t felt the need to. This was different. Who were these men? Did they have hopes and dreams? Did they have kids waiting for them at home? A loving wife, perhaps?
And what was the deal with that vision? It was the first time he had had one of the visions that hadn’t ended with him killing someone- by the seven, he hadn’t even wanted to kill the man.
Anos bounced the coin purse in his hand. It was blood money, hush money, and he wanted no part of it. He wrinkled his nose and dropped the coin purse in the snow.
No, that didn’t do anyone any good. Frowning, he bent to pick it up. He knew what he was looking for, and it took him only half a break to find. Three kids, huddled around a small fire in the back of an alleyway.
“Hey!” He shouted. When they turned to look, Anos tossed them money towards them. It landed between them, but no one moved to take it. Anos shrugged and shouted, “It’s yours,” before walking away.
The guilt was eased, though not gone. How had he been part of that? He was sure now that they weren’t delivering medicine- they were collecting some sort of rent or protection money. How had he been so oblivious? Looking back it was obvious- the way Dirge pushed himself into the houses he knocked on, the terrified expressions of those inside.
Anos found himself a small alleyway to curl up in, pulling the horse down beside him. The back wall must have led to a fireplace, as the stone was hot to the touch. Anos settled down and spread his horse blanket over the two of them. He’d smell tomorrow, but he wouldn’t freeze tonight, which was the important bit.
He drifted off to visions of the man’s eyes as he was stabbed haunting him.
