Thieves at Heart (4 page)

“Worthless,” Derk said, looking up to his comrade, nodding to him quickly. “Many thanks, Jezlen,” he said, turning his attention to the little girl. The dagger was still dirty with the dead man’s blood, but his eyes had softened. His empty hand reached out towards her. “Tavera,” he said quietly. “Tavera, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Tavi managed to shake her head but found her legs unable to work. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself, holding back the whimpers that threatened to erupt into tears. Derk stepped over the body and walked up to her, scooping her up into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Derk,” she said, crying into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. She buried her face into his coat and cloak, the tears coming anyway and soaking them through as she sobbed. “I tried to do what you told me but he picked me up so fast, I couldn’t do nothing, I’m sorry.” He shushed her gently telling her it wasn’t her fault and he understood.

“What now, Dershik?” For a moment Tavera wondered who the hooded man was talking to, her eyes setting upon Derk as she realized that the hooded man was talking to him. Dershik must be his real name and Jezlen must in the Cup, she thought. Dershik, or Derk the Lurk shrugged, wiping his blade on the dead man’s clothes, clutching the girl to him tightly.

“I doubt anyone will miss this sorry hem-chewer. Find her boot, will you?” he said. Still holding Tavera to him with one arm, he pulled out his flask, unscrewed the lid with his teeth and poured it over the already stinking body. “We’re off to Portsmouth, if you need us.”

Tavera could swear she could see a smile gleam from within the hood, the fellow uncocking his crossbow and holstering it within his cloak. The other man walked a few steps down the alley and bent down, picking her boot up off the ground and handing it over to Derk. “Portsmouth, eh?” he said. His voice had a strange accent to it, though there was also mirth in his words. Tavera wondered where he was from. “I hear Celeel is there.”

“Old Gam? Yah don’t say?” The way Derk said it made Tavera think that he knew this woman was there and she saw the other man narrow his eyes at Derk while Derk just wagged his eyebrows at him. “Well maybe I’ll pop by for a smoke and a bit to show off little Tavi. What say you?” Tavera looked up, large eyes meeting Derk’s, her large mouth still in a rather pathetic pout but her eyes void of tears. He kissed her soundly on the forehead, the first time he had done so, before he slipped her boot back onto her foot. Holding onto her firmly he stretched his free arm towards his friend.

“Take care of yourself and the little one,” Jezlen said and the two men shook hands, finally falling into something like an embrace. The man was careful not to touch Tavera. “And tell Old Gam I still dislike her.”

“She still dislikes you, I’m sure of it.” Derk turned and they left. When Tavera looked down the alley, Jezlen was gone but the body was still there, lifeless. The rats were already scurrying out of the shadows to claim their share.

Derk, Dershik, her adopted father. He had killed a man to protect her. There was something frightening about knowing this but something comforting, a kind of peace that seemed to envelope them both as they walked down alleys, coming to a stable. The danger was gone but the ordeal had made Tavera tired, the words Derk exchanged with the stableman lost to her. They both mounted a single horse, Derk setting Tavera on the saddle in front of him and taking the reigns himself. Her mind wandered as the horse walked quietly out of the city through the night, taking the man and little girl with him. Derk was her father and she knew it now. He had done something heroic to save her, been there in her time of need. Isn’t that what a father was? Someone to protect her when she needed protecting? Someone to be there for her? Someone to love her enough to do so. The steady rhythm of the horses motion was soothing and she could feel Derk’s heart beating in his chest. She smiled as she cuddled closer to the
man who wrapped his cloak around her protectively and Tavera felt warm and comfortable, both inside and out. “I love you, poppa,” she said quietly. The moon peeked out from behind some trees, lighting their way and Tavera wrapped her small hands around the reins as well, wondering what the next town held for them.

CHAPTER 3

First Impressions

The deadbolt slid back, the door opened and Tavera peered up expectantly at the woman who stood in the doorway. Confusion tweaked at the little girl’s eyebrows as she considered the woman who smirked at Derk and then looked down blankly at her. Derk was grinning at this woman who wasn’t ‘Old’ at all. Her hair was brown and fell in soft curls around her rather round face and her skin was smooth, not wrinkled. The woman called both ‘Celeel’ and ‘Old Gam’ turned and walked into the apartment with a slight roll of her eyes, Derk giving Tavi a quick squeeze on the shoulder before they entered.

“I’s hoping that the rumors were just that,” the woman said, her back turned towards them. Tavi gazed around the two roomed home, various belongings piled and set around in a way that said it was in fact a home and not another room above a bar. A table and two chairs were the focus of the front room, an embroidered cloth draped over the tabletop. The chairs didn’t match in style but the wood was the same hue. One of them was pulled out and a bit of sewing lay on the seat, half done. Quilts hung on the wall across from the only window and a small fire burned in the fireplace, no doubt keeping whatever was in the black pot warm.

Derk closed the door behind them and locked it, pulling off his hat and the face he was making at Tavera suggesting that she take off her outdoor clothes. “Rumors are always founded on some bit of truth, you should know that. You of all people.”

“So what are the lies and what are the truths, Derk?” Tavera decided that Celeel had a warm smile but that it was weary and the little girl felt as if it was a smile she only had for Derk. “Have you eaten?” she asked them both, not waiting for him to answer. “It ain’t good to not eat, ‘specially when you’re little.” She looked over at Tavera over her shoulder as she fiddled with something on a smaller table that was kept by the fire. “How old are you?”

Tavera just shrugged. She looked at Derk to see what he thought of the answer she had given and he just scratched his head, visibly uncomfortable. Celeel laughed, something between a chuckle and a cackle. “The two of you…eh?” She shook her head.

“Aye, the two of us.” He pulled off his cloak and hung it on the back of the door before he moved the sewing and sat on the chair. The smile he tried to give Tavera was probably meant to be reassuring but all she could do was stand there and frown, not sure what to do.

Old Gam looked at her again. “What, is she mute? I’ve heard otherwise but as long as she ain’t deaf, no harm done.”

“She’s not mute,” Derk sighed. Blue eyes looked over the bit of sewing he had put on the table and he poked at it, grimacing at the stain he left with his finger. He tried to rub it out and shot a glance at Tavi, looking guilty and amused at the same time. Tavi pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh as well, her small hands covering her mouth.

“You ain’t going to throw up, right? I hear small ones do that.” Old Gam said. She walked to the table with three plates, setting them down before she noticed the bit of stitching, Derk looking to the side as he tried to avoid what was soon turning into a glare on her face. The woman just sighed and shook her head, disappearing into the other room while Tavi finally decided to take off her cloak. She had to jump to get it up on the peg but reached it on her third try, glad she didn’t tear the garment on the peg as her feet hit the floor. Tavera heard Old Gam walking back into the room and the little girl felt her ears burn while she walked to the empty seat, sitting in front of the plate the woman had been kind enough to make for her.

“An apprentice,” Old Gam said. She almost sang it and it made Tavera stare into her plate harder. It was cold roasted fish and barley cakes, with sweet onion paste to moisten the bread. Her stomach rumbled.

“What, food and no drink?” Derk asked. For a second there was silence in the room, though the sounds of Portsmouth could be heard beyond the walls, keeping it from being too quiet. Whatever Old Gam was sitting on scraped against the wooden floor as she pushed it back, Tavera stealing a glance at her pa. He was smiling at her again and he winked, tearing a bit of bread and fish and dipping it into the jelly before he licked his fingers. Old Gam returned to the table with a jug and two mugs.

“I only have the two,” she said, setting one in front of herself and Derk, pouring what was probably the local thinny into his glass.

“It’s alright, I’ll let her have the last bit of mine when I’m done,” he offered, watching as she filled the mug. He picked it up as soon as she pulled the jug away, taking a big swig. “Ah, refreshing. You get this from Three Fingers?”

“Two Fingers, now. Dar got him for a digit three phases ago.”

“Who cares? His wife says he’s better with his tongue anyway. And his beer’s still the best in Ports-mouth.”

“I’d rather have all my fingers,” Tavera finally said, frowning slightly. Old Gam and Derk both looked at her and for a moment she thought she had said something wrong but they both started laughing. Tavi shoved a bit of food in her mouth while they laughed, wondering what was so funny.

“By Her hems, Derk, what do you think you’re doing with her?” Old Gam finally asked, rubbing her brow with her hand. Tavera took another mouthful, wondering who Old Gam was talking about it and she swallowed, realizing it was her.

“Everything you’ve heard I’ve been doing with her,” Derk said, and it was almost a hiss. He tore another piece of bread off and gestured at Tavera with it. “Come on, Celeel. It’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea. Firstly, she’s a child. Secondly, she looks nothing like you. You can’t even lie and say she’s your kin. Plus she’s part Forester. What could be more memorable than a blond loudmouth and a half Forester girl that looks nothing like him gallivanting through Her creation?”

“A child is easier to train than an adult and she’d already shown ability before I took her.”

“Oh, so you were watching her before you made her your little chick. How very sweet, stalking children.”

“I was NOT stalking her. I noticed her.”

“Did you happen to notice her coloring? Does she remind you of anyone?” Gam’s voice lilted when she asked and Derk stared into his cup, sitting low in his chair when she did. “Dark hair, that pretty skin. Eyes are off, but anyone that knew-”

“Shut up,” Derk said. He was gripping his cup so hard that his knuckles were white and red, his voice as icy as his eyes. He looked to Old Gam and any other person would have been frightened by the look he was giving her. Old Gam just looked…sad. Derk cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer, still staring into it. “Tavi doesn’t look like…her. At all. I would know, of all people.” He set his eyes on Tavera now, as if to make sure what he said was true and she stared back, not sure who she was supposed to not look like. He leaned over the table and offered the cup to Tavi and a smile managed to poke at the corners of his mouth, trying to chase away the seriousness in the room. “Besides that…what else did you say? Ah, yes.” Derk turned his attention to his plate and set the rest of his fish on his bread, piling the onions on top. “There are plenty of mixed families in The Valley. We wouldn’t be the first mismatched family
members to trample the Crescents. And the ears…well, only one is a giveaway. Easily covered by her hair once it’s longer, or a cloak. The skin, working in the sun too long. Some Valleymen are given to a darker coloring.” He took a bite of his food, several of the onions sliding off and onto his chin, making her pa set his food down to clean his face.

“Fine, so you have a little girl to teach, to tell all your stories to, to get your breakfast for you,” Old Gam said. She squinted at Tavera and the little girl could feel her eyes set on her ear, the one that had been cut and her fingers went up instinctively, covering it with her dark hair. “To what end, Derk? Why?”

“I thought that was the most obvious,” Derk said, eating the last of his food. He chewed and swallowed, wiping his hands on his pants before he burped quietly into a fist. “She’s to be my apprentice.”

“Did you start making hats behind my back, Derk?”

“And one day,” he huffed, ignoring her joke, “she’ll be in the Cup.” Now he looked to Tavi, raising his blond eyebrows at her hopefully. A smile tugged at her mouth and she took a sip of the beer, finding it flat but tasty. Old Gam was looking at her, she knew it.

“One day,” Old Gam said. “If she has any skill. And the desire. And if she gets people to vouch for her.” Tavi could hear Old Gam breathing, slow and measured as if trying not to get angry. “She knows about The Cup?”

“She asked me about it!” Derk insisted. “I ran into Walik in Greyhollow and we got to talking. I’m telling you, she’s sharp! The Lipper was there too and she pieced it all out. She’s a sharp ear…no pun intended. Tavi pays attention, she’s good with her hands, she’s fast, she’s small so she can get in and out of spots. And that’s now! Give her a handful of years and she’ll outshine even me!”

“What does Jezlen think of all this?” Old Gam took her plate and Derk’s, Tavi still working on her portion. Derk just snuffed, digging in his bag. Tavi knew he was looking for his pipe and he found it, pulling it out of his pack with a tug, poking the bowl with his finger.

“Since when do you care what Jezlen thinks?” Derk asked, trying to find his tobacco. Tavera shoved the rest of her food in her mouth and chewed, drinking her drink to make it go down easier. “Tavi, don’t shove so much in your mouth, you’ll choke,” he said, pointing at her with his pipe.

“You are the proud papa, aren’t you?” Old Gam snickered. This time she came back with her mug and a bottle of something else, steam rising from the mug. “So, what does the big elf think about the little elf?”

“Well,” Derk started. He pushed the tobacco into his pipe and stood up from the table, walking over to the fireplace for a light. The fire colored him orange and he plucked a smoldering stick from the fire and set his pipe. “At first, he thought I was crazy.”