The Record of the Saints Caliber (24 page)

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Authors: M. David White

Tags: #Fantasy, #Dark Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: The Record of the Saints Caliber
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Rook’s brow furled. “Those are ours!”

Rennic slowly raised a long white finger to his lips, his jaw bobbing slightly as he hissed out a series of “Shh – shh – shh – shh – shh.” All the while his large, cold eyes were fixed on Ursula. He reached out to touch her head with those long, pale fingers when the unmistakable pounding of bolt-throwers erupted from the other room.

Rook nearly jumped out of his tattered shoes by the sudden uproar. Men were shouting and screaming. He could hear Mister Brumal’s voice barking something at his son. From outside he could hear the commotion of guards too. There were screams—blood curdling screams—and now more metallic pounding of bolt-throwers.

Rook flinched as he felt cold, slender fingers wrap gently around the base of his neck. He felt Rennic’s warm breath from behind, and the man’s raspy voice filled his right ear. “Listen with me to the sounds of death.”

Rook tore himself from the man’s grasp and turned around, clutching the bawling Ursula to his chest. Rennic was crouched and staring at him with those menacing blue eyes. His red lips stretched into a grin and he extended a finger, slowly curling it in a few times, urging Rook back to him.

Rook shook his head and began to back out of the room when suddenly the wall next to him exploded. Rook’s eyes reflexively locked shut as he felt a shower of plaster and wood hit his face. In the next instant he was slammed into the wall or maybe the floor, but he knew he was definitely now laying on his back, Ursula on top of him screaming.

The hammering of bolt-throwers continued and Rook heard another terrible explosion at his back. Heavy chunks of wall fell upon him and Rook desperately struggled to roll Ursula beneath him. He didn’t dare open his eyes, but he felt the unmistakable rush of cool evening air upon his face as chunks of wall came raining down.

There were more bolt-thrower blasts, and a cacophony of screams and shouts came from inside and out. Rook pressed himself into the debris upon the floor, desperate to keep Ursula beneath him and out of potential harm. Suddenly he had a sensation of being lifted by the collar. He chanced cracking his eyes open and saw Rennic Finn looming over him, those icy eyes gazing at him, those worm-like lips smiling down on him.

“I’ll show you the way,” he said in a manner so softly and calmly that it belied the strength with which he hoisted Rook to his feet.

The outer wall next to him had been blown wide open, leaving a handy escape way into the shadows of the dark alleys. Rook held his screaming sister to his chest and Rennic dragged him like a ragdoll out into the cool of night. Toward the front of the house came shouts of men and through the smoke and debris Rook could see that there were many dead guards out in the streets, and that many civilians now had bolt-throwers in their hands. Some were crouched and firing loud blasts down the street, others ran to and fro. Rook’s eyes desperately sought Mister Brumal or anybody else he knew and he began to yell for help. That’s when Rennic’s arm caught him under the chin, firmly holding his jaw shut, and Rook was dragged off into the alleys.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

It was late when Rook found himself in Rennic’s home. At least, he assumed it was late. Rennic had taken him and Ursula into the sewers, leading them down darksome, reeking tunnels that left his tattered shoes and ends of his pants wet with cold, fetid water. Shafts of moonlight streaming from drainages in the street had guided them and all Rook could discern of their heading was that they were going away from the fighting. The screams and shouts and pounding of bolt-throwers had slowly faded until there was nothing but the sound of dripping water and their feet trudging through the muck.

After what seemed long miles Rennic led them up a rusty ladder cleverly hidden within a forgotten alcove of the sewers. A locked portal at the top exited into a windowless, brick room that Rook could only assume was part of Rennic’s home. He also assumed it must be someplace beyond the church where the large, warmly lit houses of the clergy, nobles and public officials stood. The bricks of this room were in far too good of condition, and the room far too warm to be any place else in the city.

A door on the far side of the room was hanging open, and beyond Rook could see a large fire blazing in the gas fireplace. He caught a tantalizing glimpse of plush furniture and he could detect the faint, delicious, aroma of meat and herbs cooking. It was a smell Rook had never been truly familiar with, but it set his mouth watering. It was then that Ursula began crying again, and Rook held her to his chest, cradling her in his arms.

Rennic shut the hatch in the floor and locked it, and a rough voice from beyond the open door rumbled out. “Rennic? Rennic, that you?”

As Rennic stood up from the hatch a chubby man in a fine, green tunic and black breeches shuffled into the room. Around his neck were a number of heavy, golden necklaces. He was holding a gleaming, polished sword lazily in one hand. His hair was black, curly and unkempt, as was his beard. His eyes were dark and beady, the left one sagged and stared at Rook slightly askew.

Rook’s brow furled at the man’s sight…and smell. He reeked of sour body odor and his breath was fetid, even at this distance and even above the reek of sewage that still clung to the cuffs of Rook’s pants.

“Ah, what’s this?” said the man, his voice rough and slightly slurred. He lowered his sword. His good eye shifted from Rook to Ursula, the lazy one just bobbing slightly. Rook noticed that the man’s fingers were all laden with jeweled rings.

“I found them.” said Rennic, his red lips turning up in a smile.

The man looked at Rennic doubtfully. He huffed. From outside there was a distant, muted yell. The sound of bolt-throwers could be heard, faint but certain. “Find lots in this commotion, Rennic.”

“Twenty gold crowns for the pair,” said Rennic. He stroked Rook’s hair and Rook tore himself away. “Twenty crowns.”

The fat man rumbled something in his throat and eyed Rook and Ursula more appraisingly. “They’re no good to me if parents are around and come looking for them.”

“Oh, they’re dead.” said Rennic softly. His grotesque red lips curled up in a huge smile. “Dead dead dead dead.” he whispered.

The fat man pursed his lips and took a step forward and grabbed Rook by his chin, forcing his face up, twisting his head from side to side. The man’s huge nostrils flared with each heavy, stinking breath. Rook tried to keep Ursula as close to his chest as he could, and her screams began to grow louder.

“He’s fair,” said Rennic. He looked at Rook and gave a little wink. “A fair, innocent child. Ripe fruit for a lucky noble. And the babe…oh that sweet, little babe. She’ll make some weeping mother in Valdasia very happy.”

The fat man grumbled something under his breath and went to take Ursula from Rook’s arms but Rook tore away with a yell.

“Garrot!” there was a shout from somewhere else in the house. “Garrot! Who’re you talking to?”

Another man came into the room. He wore a bronze-colored tunic and black pants, and like the other man, was adorned with a number of golden necklaces and his fingers all bore jeweled rings. He was not quite as fat as the other, but his hair was just as dark, his eyes just as beady if more focused. He did not carry the same stench as the other man and something about him commanded more authority and respect. Rook thought the two were very likely brothers, and this the elder.

“Rennic brought us a couple kids,” rumbled the first man, not taking his eyes off Rook and Ursula. “Wants twenty crowns for the pair. What you think, Karver?”

Karver made a throaty, grumbling sound much the same way the other man had been doing. “Ten. And not a copper cent more.”

Rennic sneered. “The boy’s fair and can sell to a noble. And babes that young are worth a pretty penny in Valdasia. Lots of expectant mothers willing to give up their fortune to keep their own child away from King Verami’s sister, you know.”

Karver pushed his brother Garrot out of the way and took a giant step toward Rook. Without ceremony he ripped Ursula from Rook’s arms.

Rook yelped and went to take her back but Garrot struck out with the back of his hand. Rook’s face immediately erupted in fiery pain and he felt himself stumble and fall upon the floor. He looked up, holding his red cheek, and watched in horror as Karver roughly took the bundle of rags off Ursula and yanked down her makeshift diaper, sending her into a screaming fit. The man’s eyes narrowed and his lips twisted.

Rook scrambled to his feet. He started to demand his sister back but Karver shoved Ursula into his arms and tossed him the rags to rebundle her with.

“Aye, the boy’s fair enough, but he ain’t fed properly.” said Karver with a scowl. “And the babe’s just a babe, and a girl to boot. I’d have to take her all the way to Valdasia just to sell her.” He paused and grumbled something under his breath, then said, “They’re both half starved and I’m gonna have to feed them. Boy won’t bring me but a crown looking like a skeleton the way he does. Nobles pay for nubile boys. Ten crowns.”

Rennic’s own scowl deepened. After a moment he said, “Done.”

By the time Rook had Ursula rebundled and gotten her somewhat quieted down, Rennic had counted and pocketed his coins. Rook looked up and found the two brothers were standing and staring at him, grumbling to each other under their breaths.

“That crying will never do. That crying is going to have to stop now.” said Garrot at last. His droopy eye seemed to look down at Ursula of its own accord, with its own brand of disdain.

“Sh-She’s just hungry,” said Rook, trying to meet the man’s eyes but finding he had to keep glancing away. Rook didn’t like the hateful anger with which Garrot stared at Ursula. “Do…do you think we can have some food?”

Garrot and Karver looked at each other and grumbled something. “Aye, that can be arranged.” said Karver. “It won’t do to have you starve to death and deprive me of my profits.”

“But first that crying.” said Garrot, shaking his fat head. “I can’t take the crying. That crying won’t do!”

“Do you have some milk?” asked Rook, hopeful. He had heard that most of the people in the district beyond the church secretly kept cows or goats for themselves. “She won’t need much, honest.”

Karver wagged his head. “Oh, no milk here, boy. No milk here.”

Rook’s heart immediately sank. He was about to offer up the possibility of barley water, or even just plain water at this point, when Garrot suddenly tensed up and raised his fists and began trembling. “That crying!” he roared, his voice heavy with a frightening degree of anger. The sudden outburst caused Ursula’s crying to intensify.

Rennic looked at Garrot. He spoke softly and with that disgusting smile. “Should I take her out? Take her to the well? I’ll buy her back from you.”

Rook’s eyes went wide and he clutched his sister to his chest, perhaps too tightly because she began to scream. “No!” he yelled. “No! She stays with me!”

Karver screwed his pudgy lips up and shook his head as he stared down at Rook. “Boy, it’s not your place to be telling us who stays with who. And we just can’t have that screaming.”

“It just won’t do!” yelled Garrot, holding his fat hands over his ears. “It won’t do at all!”

Rook was in full panic now. Without really thinking, he brought his thumb to his lips and tore into the side of it with the sharp corner of his front incisor. Fear and desperation made the wound far less painful than it should have been. A bead of blood immediately surfaced and Rook placed it in Ursula’s mouth. She began to suckle ravenously, chomping down with her tender gums and sucking.

“Shh, shh,” cooed Rook, bobbing her in his arms as she nursed at his thumb. She was quiet now, gulping and even choking a couple times as she suckled feverishly at his thumb.

Rook heard Rennic gasp and looked up. The skinny, cadaverous man had his hands at his mouth, his eyes wide, and he was breathing heavily, as if in awe.

Rook looked over at Karver and Garrot and said, “See. See. She won’t be a bother at all. I promise.”

Rennic made something of a giggle and put both hands to his mouth and seemed to tremble with glee before prancing over to Rook and tearing Ursula from his arms. Immediately she began to scream.

“Hey!” yelled Rook, jumping and grabbing for his sister. He moved in on Rennic but the man held Ursula high with one arm. Rennic bit into his own finger, far more sloppily than Rook had done, and a disgusting flow of blood began to run down Rennic’s hand. He jammed the profusely bleeding digit into Ursula’s mouth and she immediately went silent, and to Rook’s horror, began to drink.

Rennic looked at Karver and Garrot, his sapphire eyes bright with horrid glee and he giggled and hopped about, holding Ursula at his chest as she drank.

“Give her back! Give her back!” demanded Rook as he fought against Rennic’s kicking legs. The man pranced about the room giggling. “Give her back!”

“Rennic!” growled Karver. “That’s my property now. Unless you want to pay me her worth in Valdasian gold you best not damage her. And even then Behemoth Kraken might come for you. My cousin don’t like his goods damaged.”

Karver took the child from Rennic. The disgusting, cadaverous man clapped with glee at the sight of blood all over Ursula’s face. Rook ran over to Karver and tried to take Ursula back but Karver raised his arms out of his reach. “Boy, she ain’t your sister anymore. Get used to that fact.”

“Please, give her back,” pleaded Rook. He felt weak, powerless. Scared.

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