One Hundred refusals (14)

A serialised romantic fantasy

Previously… Chapter 1 Chapter 13

The cloaked traveller sat down by the bar with a heavy thud. He was exhausted. Riding through every damn town of Hebeny in his way, never stopping, except the very few hours he spent sleeping. Never letting his guard down, his green snake-like eyes forever searching for the one his heart longed for. He walked into every dirty tavern and brothel, asking the same questions again and again. A month had passed since he ventured into the night to find the kidnapped princess. At first, he searched the towns near the Citadel, in case the kidnappers would’ve stopped for a meal, or rest.

With no luck, Lord Ashier went straight to Avem. He sniffed around the land of Birdlings, both as a man and a snake, he slithered into the very dungeon of The Nídum castle, the fortress of Avem, but he found no trace of Gema there. What he did find out was - they had lost her. The Birdling soldiers ventured into Hebeny, whole flocks of spies hovered around. Lord Ashier rejoiced, Gema was free. But the more time passed, the more desperate he became. There was no sign of her.

After weeks of searching, he found himself where all desperate low-lives ended up - in the town of Tridum, where three Kingdoms met. Here, on the shores of Lake Autumna one could buy anything - from livestock to jewellery, from perfume to living flesh; though slavery was forbidden by law, it was a thriving business, and the gold was worth the risk… the town had an abundance of brothels and taverns, market squares, and travelling merchants, both legal and illegal. Slaves were sold to serve as whores or servants, dancers or workers.

Lord Ashier had been to so many taverns and brothels asking for Gema, he didn’t shy away from searching every gutter of Tridum, until one wretched afternoon he walked into the last tavern on the very shores of Lake Autumna, where boats and ships never stopped coming and going into the harbour.

“Foreverold have mercy upon me,” Ash murmured observing the crowd of drunks wasting their last gold on booze and whores.

“What can I get ya’?” The barkeep asked.

“Strong-water. Double,” Ash muttered. He chugged down the Snakeling beverage, gave a heavy sigh, and asked the same old questions, slipping a golden coin under the barkeep’s nose. Ash was nearly out of gold, which meant soon he’d be forced to travel back home for more.

“Tell me, my good man, have you not seen a young woman here, travelling either alone or with some Birdlings? Long chestnut-brown hair, blue eyes, very beautiful?” By the barkeep’s sceptical grin Ash knew the question was ridiculous. The ‘good man’ saw tens of people every day, the tavern constantly roared with costumers.

“Keep your gold, may it help you find the one your heart aches for,” the barkeep said with a sympathetic smile, and slid the coin back to Ash. The latter gave a nod with another heavy sigh.

“We might have met your lass, young sir, but…” a low voice grunted near Ash. He gave the man his most snakishly-resentful look; the man was despicable - from the toothless grin on his bearded face, red and swollen from booze, to his pathetic lies. Ash snorted at the urine and vomit stench coming from the man.

“I cannot tell you how many times I have heard these lies,” Ash replied lazily, and ordered another drink.

The man said nothing, instead he pulled a small silver box from his dirty pocket, placed it upon the counter, and to Ash’s astonishment took Gema’s ring, and a lock of her lovely hair out of it. It was Gema’s, no doubt, Ash would’ve recognized her chestnut hair anywhere. And the ring he had noticed on her graceful finger when he kissed her hand.

“Where….? Where is she?!” Ash bellowed hoarsely, jumping up from his seat.

The robber chuckled dark and low. He did not hurry to answer, placing the precious items back into the box.

“That will cost you good gold. Me and my lads were on our way to Autumna, but this damn town has robbed us from all our gold,” the man explained. Ash saw it from their foul faces - the merry band of robbers had been enjoying themselves immensely for weeks, drinking, and taking whores.

“I cannot give you much. This is all I have left,” Ash gave the last of his coins.

“Not enough,” the robber grinned.

“I was on my way to Snakeling island for more but…” Ash suspected the scoundrels would not wait for him to return with the money. This was his one and only chance to find Gema.

“Tell me, is she alive and well?! Please!”

“Not so proud anymore, are ya’?! She was alive and more than well when we left her,” the robber winked at his mates, and the whole row of them exploded in roaring laughter sitting by the bar.

“Please, where is she?!” Ash’s voice had none of the previous pride; their laughter was a menacing sign.

“We want gold, lad. You want your lass. But you have nothing to give us, except…”

“Except what? I’ll give anything, please, tell me where is she!”

***

Gema woke up fresh as a rose petal. She stretched lying in the silk sheets, and smiled. Finally! The day had come. The day she’s finally going home. After more than a month Lord Trouser had some gold to spare. After he paid the taxes, and provided food for the old ladies of the brothel, that is. All the while Gema lived in the “fine house” she was truly treated like a princess. The old ladies of the night were kind souls; they adored their beautiful young guest, and Gema was quite fond of them as well. She helped them around the house; there was nothing else to do anyway. The ladies were fine seamstresses, and Gema’s attire was fit for a princess.

The first days she was devastated; Lord Trouser’s friends had been to the queen’s coronation, and they confirmed that the Queen was the most beautiful woman ever seen, chestnut-brown hair, blue eyes, slender and graceful. Gema had her suspicions; obviously her dead twin sister was not dead at all. Those pesky Birdlings had schemed this, ooh, Gema was plotting a revenge already!

Yet she laid in bed pondering, and fear crept into her heart – how will she get inside the castle to confront the imposter-queen in front of the court? Why would anybody believe her? That was the reason she hadn’t come up to the soldiers patrolling in the town. Gema feared they won’t believe her, even worse; they might arrest her for treason!

No, I shall go and sort this out myself! She decided.

“I shall miss you immensely, my dear girl,” Lord Trouser said by the breakfast table. “If I was so fortunate as to have a daughter; I whole-heartedly wish she was like you.” He wiped a teardrop with his lace-trimmed handkerchief. “I have grown very fond of you, Gema dear.”

“And I of you,” Gema consoled the old man. Indeed, he resembled her father, the late king Ulrich, and took care of Gema in a truly fatherly manner.

Every day they shared their meals, and talked long into the night after the evening tea.

After saying her heartfelt goodbyes to the elderly brothel ladies, Gema ventured into the town, accompanied by Lord Trouser himself. She wore a sky-blue gown made from the finest silk in town, and trimmed with snow-white lace. The elegant gentleman and his young companion made heads turn; the Lord rarely left his establishment, for the townsfolk looked down on the brothel owner, and whispered shameful words about the dark deeds from his youth behind his back. But today they kept their foul mouths shut, staring at the sweetest couple marching through town; a proud father walking with his beautiful daughter under his arm. They went past the market square, where the carriages for rent waited for costumers. Lord Trouser picked out the best of them, with an elderly coachman, to keep Gema safe. Oh, no, Lord Trouser would not accompany Gema to the Citadel; he couldn’t leave the old ladies alone.

“Well, Gema, my dear! This is where we say farewell. I wish you a safe journey home,” the elderly Lord’s voice broke down. He kept his silence not to break down in tears.

Gema did not hold back her tears; she embraced the Lord tightly, sobbing like a child.

Oh, how will I convince the court it’s really me? What if the imposter is a better Queen than I am? What if…

Gema suddenly realised – what if Ash had fallen for the imposter? Her sadness turned to anger; oh no! Nobody shall take my man away from me! She thought gritting her pearly teeth. Fuelled by fury, Gema wiped her tears and stepped toward the carriage. Not even a hundred Citadel guards could stop her from scratching out the eyes of the whore who dared to touch Ash!

She was stopped by an uproar in the market. Men shouting, a noise of a fist fight rising. The voices were oddly familiar; Gema turned away from the carriage, and walked to see the ones yelling.

“Oh, just a drunken brawl, my dear,” the Lord said, but followed her.

Gema nearly shrieked; it was her old acquaintances, the band of robbers! They had surrounded a man, and pushed him around, while he pushed back, shouting. Gema walked even closer, making her way through the crowd. The man in the middle was obviously a slave; his arms and feet were shackled by chains, his clothes torn and dirty, his long black hair smudged with mud.

“I had been your slave for over two weeks, is that not enough for you, bastards?!” he shouted hoarsely.

“And a good one at that, sir snake! But we need gold… first we sell ya’, then we tell ya’!”

“Oh, no! I demand to know where she is NOW! You will not drag me to another dirty town!”

“We’ll do as we please, bastard!”

“Where. Is. She?!” the slave grunted. Gema eyed his masculine silhouette from the back. She’d recognise those tight buttocks anywhere…

“Well, if you must know, your lass is the town’s whore now! Rode by more men than your noble head could count, snake!” the leader of the robbers spat out with a vicious smirk.

Ash punched him in the face as much as the chains allowed him, shouting,

“You will not call my queen a whore!” For which he got stabbed with a dagger in the gut; the leader of the robbers reacted quicker than Ash expected.

The Snakeling fell backward with a moan, but he was caught by the gentlest hands, and a loving embrace. Gema sat down onto the muddy ground cradling him.

“Oh, Ash! My Ash!” she whispered trembling.

“Arrrgh…” he grunted in pain, “Gema… Gema… you’re alive! At least I shall die relieved…”

“You will not die! I won’t let you!” Gema’s tears dripped on his dirty face.

“Whatever you say, my queen…” Ash whispered, before fainting.