Lady Yandira

Polished — 39m36s — 2021/05/02

Polished. Changed it so Wenifas unintentionally reveals the fake guards, as it was in the initial drafts — 1h09m30s — 2021/10/03

Polished — 46m33s — 2021/10/04

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

The Kundilae Merchantile was known for its high quality imports, and under Yandira, the company flourished. About a year after the accidental passing of her husband, Yandira was approached by a family of Jindleyak traders. They had fine cloth, blended of hemp and wool. They offered a mix of handcrafted horse tackle, from bridle to stirrups, and everything in between. They also made a divine pear brandy. Since they were a smaller company, Yandira commissioned as much of their wares as they able to provide. Then, as they celebrated the partnership, Yandira confessed to one of the Jindleyak traders that she was terribly lonely, and soon found herself head over heals in love with a young and handsome Elpis.

Despite the fact that Lady Yandira was nearly ten years his senior, the Bouge lady and her Jindleyak beau were well matched in values, temperament, and resources. As the association grew and flourished, many of their friends felt a betrothal was imminent, and that the lady stalled only for the sake of propriety.

But now, 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. That is, if all went rather smoothly.

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 satisfied, because she knew she would indeed be comfortable. “I think you shall quite like the lady,” she 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 and made the boy smile with anticipation. Claiten wondered if she might have children about, children his age, that he might have a few new friends.

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, all too happy to see her again. The Lady waved back as a bittersweet smile graced her face.

“It seems your Lady knows of the judge’s demise,” Scurra noted. “I suspect she has a number of spies among the court.”

“Is she crying?” Elpis asked.

The Lady Yandira leaned over the railing of her balcony and yelled at her visitors—though they could barely hear her across the great expanse of the front yard, as four guards approached in uniforms of the Merchantile. Elpis did not recognize them, but then there were many men in the Lady’s employ he did know.

The guards gave a slight nod as they approached. Wenifas noticed the puzzled expression of one as he caught a glimpse her crescent moon medallion. She realized it wasn’t the medallion that puzzled her, but her company among the natives. Without thinking—only feeling it was the right thing to do—she raised her hand in a typical Ministrian greeting and said, “hello,” in her native tongue.

Upon reflex, the man responded in kind, not realizing that he gave himself away. With a hiss, Elpis brandished his long, thin, war axe and prepared to fight. The breeze caught just right, and the Jindleyak finally heard what his lover had been screaming, “Run! Save yourselves!”

The front door opened. Degorouth and Ministrians poured out of the manse. Elpis realized that his lady was already a captive. His heart dropped into his stomach. 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.”

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. Still, he knew the right thing was to run, to escape. Then, he could send an intermediary to negotiate for her release.

But first, he must live. In order to do that, Elpis needed to fight. The four false guards were too close. He would not escape them if he turned and ran now.

Scurra turned and pushed Wenifas ahead of her. The priestess turned and ran down the road with her children, then noticed the Jindleyaks weren’t following. Instead, Scurra was kneeled several paces behind Elpis. She drew her bow and nocked an arrow as the false guards closed the gap. Elpis stepped to the left and gave his cousin the look she wanted. An arrow appeared from behind him and caught the first man center mass. The shocked man doubled over as Elpis slipped passed him and barreled into the man on the far left. This Ministrian slashed at Elpis, but was turned aside by a parry. Then, being inside his enemy’s guard, Elpis slashed the his chest with the edge of his axe. The man stumbled, dead before he landed heavily on his back.

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 edge 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 dagger, then fell in a writhing mass of pain.

The fourth and final Ministrian rushed at Scurra, but he was turned back as she whipped him in the face with the end of her bow and dodged to the side. Blinded, the Ministrian took an awkward swing at where she was previously kneeling, then wheeled away, turned against his enemy only to notice how drastically the odds had shifted, 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 foreign man 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 man—the same man that tried to persecute the duke—grabbed the Lady at her waist and hefted her over the railing of her own balcony.

Although she struggled, Yandira could not deny her attacker. She screamed and clutched at the railing—but could not get a good hold. 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—and the abrupt end of her scream.

In response to such an injustice—and also to give her cousin time to turn and run—Scurra nocked several arrows and sent them at the men that approached from the Lady’s manse. The first arrow was dodged by the first man, then clipped the second man’s ribs, as it disappeared into the crowd. The second arrow caught a man in the leg and hobbled him. The third arrow buried itself harmlessly in a shield.

The enemy continued to advance. Behind them, Wenifas stood near the front gate, and yelled hysterically at the two cousins, “RUN!”

Scurra grabbed Elpis by the collar, and yanked him down the drive. “We gotta go!” she raged as Wenifas and Claiten turned and 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 too. 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 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, dodging behind fences, sheds, and outbuildings.

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 a mile or two of hard running, Wenifas pulled up and leaned heavily against a slant wood fence. "I can't...!" she cried, barely able to breathe. "I can't...!" she wept as tears streamed from her eyes.

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 understand 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. “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 with a dagger 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. "It’s not much of a cut. He must have nicked an artery for it to bleed so much,” she told him.

“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.

“No more problems,” Scurra said. “We need a solution. We need to get to the House of Leaves.”

“That’s at the east end of tow,” Elpis shook his head. "There's a butcher not far from here that has an entrance to Beletrain. 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 a safe house in Peverly. By the end of tomorrow, we should be able to make the House of Leaves.”

“Sounds like we’re meant for the tunnels after all,” Scurra shrugged.

“It’s not all that easy,” Elpis noted. “We’ll have to come up in 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 shook his head. “It's not a great plan, but we have to come up somewhere. If I had Traust’s maps...”

Scurra shrugged. "What are our chances?”

“We’ll be going through corridors controlled by men, so the only real risk is a patrol of Degorouth or Ministrians—but we’re far more likely to find them in the streets,” he noted, as the sounds of their pursuit continued to shift and drift around them, approaching on some sides and receding on others.

“It’s not be a great plan, but it’s what we got,” 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,” he said, then banged on the gate.

Elpis banged again. He was about to hit the gate a third time when a latch finally gave and the gate cracked open. 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 curmudgeon glared about the group. "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. Instead, 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 curmudgeon asked.

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

"Might be the business of the Red Dog," the curmudgeon 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 curmudgeon 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 curmudgeon groused—but they both knew the worth of a twelve weight chabling was worth a couple lunes to most. He took the decorated piece of bone, pushed the gate wide, and stepped aside.

The ‘latrine’ was heavily barred and locked. The owner undid the locks and worked the bars free of the door as he grumbled to himself.

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

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

"We'll need fire," Elpis said.

"Torches are extra,” the curmudgeon replied.

Scurra held out a copper bot.

The curmudgeon took it with a broken smile. "The bunch of you seemed to be 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 curmudgeon backpedaled. "Don't mean no shenanigans," he said as he returned to the chains and bars that locked 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 chill 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." She pulled back Evereste’s hand as the toddler reached for the torch and cooed.

“And quiet,” Elpis whispered to the priestess and baby. “The gods mean for us to be quiet.”

Scurra brought up the train. She sighed her relief as the curmudgeon 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 up the ramp. “He’s selling us out as we speak.”

Wenifas followed 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 never heard of him. Let’s assume the Degorouth will 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 mean to come u.p. But enough talk. We ought to be quiet. We do not know who else is already down here,” he said as he led them further into the darkness.