Lady Yandira

Polished — 47m12s — 2020/10/27

After the unfortunate death her husband, Lady Yandira became the sole proprietor of Kundilae Merchantile, a large and wealthy company. The business continued to prosper under the lady’s leadership, and Yandira increasingly became a woman of power and position in Ebertin.

After her husband’s unfortunate death, Yandira concluded negotiations that brought the finest raw hemp and wool from a family near Hearthstone and returned finished cloth, with the Mercantile making a tidy profit in the exchange—but as the negotiations proceeded, Yandira also found herself falling in love with one of the negotiating party, a young and handsome Elpis. Despite the fact that she was nearly ten years his senior, the Bouge lady and her Jindleyak beau were well matched in temperament, expectations, and resources. As the association grew and flourished, many of their friends felt their betrothal was imminent, and that the lady stalled only for the sake of propriety.

Now that Kezodel was dead, Elpis felt it might be a good time for Yandira to make herself scarce. She was known as a friend of the Jindleyaks, and although the Lady had her own security and many friends about the city, they’d be no match for the Degorouth and their Ministrian allies should any of Kezodel’s lieutenants wish to make trouble. Elpis intended to take Yandira to Hearthstone to meet his rather large and prosperous family. They’d planned to make the trip eventually anyway, so current events only expedited their departure—and in the meantime, the Mercantile would operate quietly, making its money with the Lady absent.

A cousin of Elpis by half a dozen removals, Scurra had met the Lady Yandira and been her guest several times since she’d arrived in the city. She rather liked the polished woman, and now that she’d chosen to go that direction, Scurra was rather satisfied, because she knew she would indeed be comfortable. “I think you shall quite like the lady,” Scurra smiled as she led Wenifas and her children through the front gate of the Lady’s estate. “She will see that you have everything you might like.” Such sentiment went a long way to relaxing the frayed nerves of the priestess.

The house came into view, a large and well-kept structure of opulence and finery. They could all see the lithe form of the Lady Yandira as she stood on her balcony. Elpis smiled and waved to his light haired lover, only too happy to see her again. A bittersweet smile graced the Lady’s face, as she waved back.

“She must of heard of Kezodel,” Scurra said of her frown.

“Is she crying?” Elpis asked, concern creeping into his voice.

Across the expanse of her large front yard, the Lady Yandira leaned over the railing of her balcony and pointed as she yelled at her visitors.

“Mom...!” Claiten said, distress rising in his voice as he gave a hard yank on the shaman’s cloak.

Her clothes pulled and pinched the priestess. “Ow,” Wenifas complained as she turned to see what caught her son’s attention—then gasped and tripped over the long edges of the shaman’s cloak. She tumbled into Scurra for fright of what see saw behind them.

“What is she yelling...?” Scurra began to say of the Lady—though the question was clipped as Wenifas stumbled into her and nearly knocked her down.

Elpis turned to see what all the fuss was about. Four Degorouth warriors marching up the drive. With a huff, Elpis brandished his fine war axe and thought, so it comes to this after all. Scurra and Wenifas disentangled themselves. Elpis turned to the house, expecting to see Yandira’s men running across the yard to give their assistance—but instead it was uniformed Degorouth and Ministrians pouring out of the manse. He realized what it meant for his lady, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Yandira was already their captive. Still, he stared at the blonde beauty, suddenly sure of the reason for her tears.

“We can’t be here,” Scurra said and pulled at her cousin. “We should go—now.”

Elpis considered his options. A dozen enemies proceeded across the lawn as more and more poured from the lady’s house. He knew he could not overcome such a mob, but he longed to try.

“Run!” Yandira called to her lover, her words enhanced by a light breeze. “Save yourselves! Run for your lives!”

“Come on!” Scurra pulled her bow. She grabbed Wenifas and ran back down the road, toward the men that approached from behind. She nocked an arrow as she ran and took at aim.

With his heart breaking, Elpis turned from his Lady. He could not fight for her and win. Not now. Not here. Instead, he would send an intermediary to negotiate for her release and swore that no price was too great.

But first, he must live. First, he must escape. He sprinted at the four Degorouth that barred the front gate. He passed Scurra and the priestess as the Degorouth men pulled their swords and prepared to engage.

Elpis ran for the closest man, then, just before the tangled, he stepped to the left and gave his cousin the look she wanted. Scurra placed an arrow center mass of the first Degorouth. The shocked man doubled over as Elpis slipped passed him and barreled into the next man.

The second Degorouth slashed at Elpis, but was turned aside by a parry. Elpis dodged inside the man’s guard and drove the handle of his axe into the man’s chest. The man stumbled, lost his feet, and landed heavily on his back, with several of his ribs broken.

The third man hoped to catch Elpis as the Jindleyak engaged the second—but was forced to slow, or catch an arrow from Scurra. Given a moment, Elpis turned toward the man, sideswiped the first strike, and smashed the blunt head of his axe against the inside of his enemy’s leg. With a loud pop, the man’s femur cracked. He screamed in agony, dropped his sword, and fell in a writhing mass of pain.

The fourth and final Degorouth noticed how drastically the odds had shifted against him, and decided it was best to flee. Scurra put an arrow in his butt just to be sure he didn’t follow.

Gripping his arm, Elpis turned to take one last look at Yandira. "My Lady!" he yelled, horrified to see a heavily armed man now standing behind her.

Yandira smiled through her tears, put her hand to her lips, and blew a kiss to her lover.

“No!” Elpis yelled as the armored man grabbed the Lady at her waist and hefted her over the railing of her balcony.

Although she struggled, Yandira could not deny her attacker. She screamed and clutched at the railing—but could not get a good hold—and so she tumbled, end over end, as she fell from the high balcony, then struck the ground with an awful crunch.

Elpis cringed and turned away, so he would not have to see the impact, though he suffered to hear it. In response to such an injustice—and also to give her cousin time to turn and run—Scurra nocked several arrows and lobbed them at the men that approached from the Lady’s own manse. The first arrow was dodged and fell harmless. The second arrow caught a man in the leg and hobbled him. The third arrow was brushed aside with a shield—and the enemy continued to advance. Scurra grit her teeth, grabbed Elpis by the collar, and yanked him down the drive. “We gotta go!” she raged as Wenifas and Claiten ran down the road well ahead of them.

Elpis turned and ran. With tears in his eyes, he ran past his cousin, then caught and passed the priestess and her progeny. He led them onto pathways and alleys of nearby cottages, gardens, gates, and sheds as sounds of pursuit crashed about behind them. He knew the area well from long leisurely walks with his love, and his familiarity served him well. On and on they ran through well groomed hedges, orchards, and large beds of flowers cultivated by rich neighbors. After several minutes of running, they came to the edge of the wealthy neighborhood. The houses began to crowd in upon each other. Alleys twisted and forked among these houses, and the noise of their pursuit scattered and dwindled.

After a couple dozen turns and over a mile of hard running, Wenifas pulled up and leaned heavily against a slanting wood fence. "I can't...!" she cried, barely able to breathe. "I can't...!" she wept as tears streamed from her eyes. It was a hard sprint, and they were all winded.

Claiten caught up last, and smashed his tearful face into the folds of his mother's cloak.

"Oh, my brave boy!" Wenifas stroked his hair. She choked down her guilt for running on ahead of him, and begged herself not to cry. “My brave, brave boy,” she praised him again as she tried to forget this impossible day.

Scurra turned to Elpis. "I’m so sorry,” she said, and wrapped her cousin in a hug.

Elpis grit his teeth and pushed her away. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want to get out of here.” He shook his head and refused to look at her. “We cannot be captured. There will be no quarter for any of us.”

Scurra noticed blood on his shirt. She dabbed a finger at the mess and held it up for Elpis to see. "When…?" she asked.

“The last guard glanced me as he flailed and fell,” Elpis winced away from her probing fingers. "It's nothing—barely touched me at all.”

"That's a lot of blood,” Scurra frowned. “Let me see.” Ever so gently, she lifted his arm and saw a gush of blood. Scurra cursed through tight lips as she sucked her breath, then pressed his arm to his side. “Keep it tight,” she ordered, then pulled his tabard from his bag, ripped it, and tied the pieces around his chest and injured arm. "I think he nicked the artery.”

“Figures,” Elpis snorted and grimaced as his cousin worked.

“We have to get somewhere fast,” Scurra said as she finished up. “What's in the area?"

Elpis shook his head. "We're near the slant streets—but an injured man with women and children should not be visiting among those bars and brothels."

"Too conspicuous," Scurra agreed. "We need to get to the House of Leaves,” she reminded him.

“Problem is, we're going the wrong direction, and we can’t take the streets," Elpis shook his head. "There's a butcher not far from here that has an entrance to Beletrain,” he suggested. “We could go underground and come up on the other side of my Lady’s estate. It will get us going in the right direction,” he shrugged. “In four or five hours, we could be at the safe house in Peverly, no sweat, and make the House of Leaves by the end of tomorrow," he shook his head. "We’ll have to go through Fowler's Auction."

"What's wrong with Fowler’s Auction?" Scurra asked.

"Fowler ain’t a friend of the Degorouth or Ministrians," Elpis began. "But he isn't much of a friend to anyone else either. He respects money if he respects anything at all," he noted with a shrug. "It's not a great plan, but we have to come up somewhere,” he shook his head. “If I had Traust’s maps..."

Scurra shrugged. "What are our chances?”

“We’re not going to see any naga,” Elpis replied. “We’ll be going through corridors controlled by men,” he shook his head. “I'm far more concerned we might find Degorouth down there—but it’s not as likely as up here," he noted as the sounds of their pursuit continued to shift and drift through the streets.

Scurra nodded. “Which way do we go?"

"This way," Elpis pushed himself off the wall with his good arm. The group dodged through the alleys with furtive glances at every intersection. Elpis stopped at a gate marked with a bull's head. "This is it," he grinned. “This guy is a real piece of work, so keep your guard up,” Elpis banged on the gate. For a long moment, they waited as nothing happened.

Impatient, Scurra banged on the gate. She was about to bang again when the gate cracked open and a sour face glared back at them. "What do you want?!" The rancid words caught in her nose.

"We need access to the tunnels," Elpis said in a hushed manner.

"Tunnels? You mean Beletrain?" The butcher glanced about the group and frowned. "We have no door to that snake hole, if that's what you're asking," he said and slammed the gate shut.

With a snort, Elpis banged on the gate once more. It opened again, but the man did not speak. He simply glared at the lot of 'em.

Elpis held up two silver half moons, "The access is disguised as an outhouse. I can show you where it is, if you'd like…"

"You mean to take children into Beletrain?" the butcher asked with a snort.

"Ain't none of your business," Scurra answered.

"Might be the business of the Red Dog," the butcher said.

"You tell whoever you want after you let us in," Elpis replied, "and I hope you get a good price for the information."

"Another moon," the butcher stated with a glint in his eye. "I wish to sooth my conscience for sending children into the viper's pit."

"I have no more coin on me," Elpis lied. He pulled a piece of bone from his pocket, a round ball of shoulder about half the size of a fist, etched with fancy markings, and decorated with semi-precious stone. "What of a twelve weight chabling?"

"Rather have metal,” the butcher snorted—but they both knew the worth of a twelve weight chabling. He took the decorated piece of bone and stepped aside.

Elpis turned to a small building marked as a latrine. The outhouse was heavily barred and locked. The butcher undid the locks and worked the bars free of the door as he grumbled to himself.

"Sturdiest shit house in all of Ebertin," Scurra noted.

The butcher grunted. "Can't have the snakes coming out whenever they feel like it."

"We'll need fire," Elpis said.

The butcher shrugged. "Torches are extra.”

Scurra held out a copper bot.

The butcher took it with a broken smile. "You're overflowin' with metal," he said as he leaned into the woman.

"I keep a fine edge on some of it," Scurra noted, as a knife appeared in her hand. She tapped it against the inside of the butcher's thigh.

The butcher backpedaled. "Don't mean no shenanigans," he said as he returned to the chains and bars that blocked the entrance to Beletrain. "Torches are next to the fire pit," he pointed.

Elpis lit three torches. He gave one to Scurra and another to Claiten, then stepped into the false latrine and made his way down the spiral ramp with a torch of his own. Wenifas followed with Evereste in one arm and Claiten's hand in the other. Claiten shivered against his mother as the darkness threatened to overwhelm him.

"Muster your courage," Wenifas said to her boy, as well as herself. "The gods mean for us to be brave."

"And quiet," Elpis whispered. "The gods mean for us to be quiet."

Scurra brought up their train. She sighed her relief as the butcher closed the door behind them. "Let's be quick," she stated.

Elpis gave a nod.

"It is too dark,” Wenifas shook her head. “We need to go slow.”

"No time for that," Elpis said, and nodded back toward the butcher. ""He’s selling us out as we speak.”

Wenifas turned to the militiaman with a questioning stare.

“Others want to know about it anytime someone comes down here,” the Jindleyak shrugged. “Nothing good goes on under the city."

"Do we need fear this Red Dog?" Scurra asked.

Elpis shrugged. "I’ve heard little about him. Either way, the Degorouth will likely know we're down here before the hour is out—but we’ll be back out of the tunnels an hour after that—so don’t even worry. They have no idea what direction we mean to go, and Beletrain is an impossible maze with too many exits,” he explained. “Traust has a map with over three hundred different ways in and out—and we suspect that's not even half of 'em. So you see, it doesn’t matter where we go in. It only matters where we come up," he said as he led them further into the darkness.

If you enjoyed this, please consider donating. because donating is love.