Chapter 6: In the Jaws of the Serpent

<Side-story: Midii's past>

 

The carriages ambled by, their wooden wheels rattling against the worn, cobbled stone and on the street, merchants shouted in loud, shrill voices as if trying desperately to drown out the competing yells. Street urchins scampered past, full of sneer and swagger as they bent their hand awkwardly around the daggers at their hips, probably stolen, by the looks of the carefully crafted workmanship. Beneath her lowered eyelids, Midii's eyes sharpened.

Gangs, she guessed, taking note of the distinctive nose-ring that each of the young men and women sported. Patrolling their territory, maybe? Their clothes, although of a tattered, almost indistinct gray color, were of the same cut in a rough imitation of a man's gaku, with a bright crimson sash twisting around their too thin waists. They did not try to blend in with the rest of the ayamid's crowd, but swaggered about the marketplace as if they were the lords of the city, flashing their daggers clumsily and pushing the milling people out of their way with haughty belligerence.

Midii raised an amused eyebrow from under her loose caftan, the rippling folds of the hood cloaking her features in shadows. Tsk, tsk, tsk...children children. From all appearances, they barely know the hilt from the blade. The skin around her eye twitched slightly and her lips thinned as another thought occurred to her. Something isn't right...if they were this incompetent, other gangs would have taken this territory long ago. Hmm...She shook her head once, filing the information carefully away to think about at a later date.

With easy anticipation, she glanced at the city around her, leaning unobtrusively against a shaded part of the southern wall as she waited patiently for her contact to appear. The Mid-Land sun beat down brutally on the Vala'kai, the City of the Gods, until images blurred in front of her, bending and rippling in the waves of heat and Midii spared a brief moment to curse the Mid-Land tradition that proclaimed that in the capital city, all women were to be covered from head to toe. The silk, which had seemed loose and cool to begin with, was fast becoming suffocating and sweat dampened her inner garment until it felt she had pools of sweat plastered against her skin.

"Inshala's Mercy," Midii muttered and blotted beads of sweat from her forehead with the swipe of her arm. By the hells, she hated this. However, if there was any time to infiltrate the city, it had to be now; the Mid-Landers had thrown too many men recklessly at the walls of Chelsa...the wall had fallen, but so had many men.

So the Mid-Lands were gathering freelance mercenaries to fill in their ranks, and Lady Une had ordered her daughter to join these men and women to see what she could learn. She smiled ironically, thinking of the pampered, coddled life that she had left behind. If the nobles of the Court could only see her now, Midii Une, illegitimate daughter of Lady Anne Une, mucking in enemy territory as an undercover agent.

Shibai Hitori, she corrected herself absently. Silently, she tried to ignore the heat by rerunning her cover story through her head again, drilling it into herself until she almost believed it as truth. My mother was a peasant from the Ishin Shishi district on the outskirts of the Mid-Lands. My father was a mercenary hire-sword that had passed by the town; I never knew him. I have...had...an older brother that disappeared on his thirteenth birthday and I haven't seen him ever since. I left home at the beginning of the Conquest and trained to become a mercenary...

"Lady Hitori?" Midii started, hand going instinctively to the hilt of her saber that hid within the folds of the billowing caftan. Her eyes collided with light lime-green eyes that twinkled in wry humor at her and his swarthy face had a single scar that went from jaw to temple, narrowly missing his left eye. He was probably in his late twenties but already, there was a bitter cynicism about him that twisted his lips into a sneer and a world-wariness that lit his eyes. Midii relaxed slightly as she saw the scar; her contact was said to have such a mark on his face. But this could just be another Mid-Land trap, so her fingers remained resting lightly on the leather wrapped pommel.

Smoothly, she smiled in a perfunctory way, replying, "Lady I am not, sir. Mercenary am I, of the District Ishin Shishi."

Her tongue fumbled against the unfamiliarly harsh, guttural syllables of Mid-land speech, hearing the words twisting against the roof of her mouth. Inwardly, she winced at the tortured grammar and the thick, fumbling accent that cracked her normally melodious voice. She knew how to speak perfect, accentless Malrik, the Mid-Land language, but according to her research, the border lands' peasants had always spoken thusly. It had taken her a full year in their company to be able to imitate their customs, their slight mannerisms, and a little longer than that to master the dialect itself. It had not been easy.

"Pray, you are who?"

Instead of replying, a slow grin spread across the man's face, bringing out the highlights in his mocking eyes and he chuckled slightly, his voice filled with a slightly bitter note. "Nice. Verra' nice. If 'n I hadna been given yer description, I would'a thought that ye were truly jus'nother hire-sword wanderin' the cap'tal stead of-"

Midii's eyes had widened during his speech and her hand shot out to clasp over the man's mouth before she dropped the accent, hissing, "Fool! Do you wish us both to hang from the gallows by night?"

He merely gave her an infuriating grin, his face full of mockery as he jerked her hand free, his head tossed arrogantly to one side. "Hah. What do I care? Livin' this life is no worse then dyin and ye and I both know I do this for yer gold, nothin' more. I've no loyalty to yer Prelate." There was old pain in his eyes beneath the façade of indifferent derision and he shrugged, dangerous golden flecks highlighting in his eyes. "Th'money, girl-child."

"Shelter first. And sure you must be that it will draw no attention," Midii retorted, contempt flashing in her dove gray eyes. "Else it is but nothing you get." He glared at her for a second, then jerked his head once, and walked away, indicating that she should follow. Midii stared after him, hands clenched at her side. Obviously he was not trustworthy; he admitted it himself. What Gods bedamned person had set her liaison as this...this...this man!?

"Comin? Or are ye waitin' for the city t'crumble whilst ye stand there?" Gritting her teeth, Midii followed this strange man into the maze of alleyways...but her hand never strayed far from her sword.

 

***

 

He led her on a twisting, rambling path that was designed to confuse or bore anyone who might have been following them, his heavy, brooding silence making Midii uneasy, even as she memorized each turn they made so that she could find her way out later. She eyed his wide, broad back dubiously, keeping her fears and mistrust to herself; one welcomed those they doubted with open arms and held the serpent as closely as possible.

With only a brief hesitation, Midii tested the waters, asking cautiously, "Your name is what sir?"

He barely turned his head but in the dim light that filtered past the tall, damp walls, she could see a trace of a smirk touching his lips. "Ye c'n call me Odin, girl-child. Odin Lowe."

Midii gritted her teeth. She was not a child but a woman full grown in her seventeenth year! In order to obtain this mission, she had had to fight half a dozen competitors in unarmed combat, undergo extensive torture-simulation so that she would not divulge any information should she be captured. She had disciplined herself for this mission for more than a year, visiting her "aunts" in Ishin Shishi to learn their ways after her initial combat training...ruthlessly pushing her body and mind to its limits, and then more. No, she was no child.

She had the scars to prove it.

"Child, I am not, Odin Lowe," She snapped coldly, "Your employer I am! Ask only did I one question-"

"Yeah, n'answered it was," Odin interrupted, mimicking her accent in deft mimicry. His grin seemed to grow wider as he came to a door of black steel bars, "Shuck the boonies talk, girl-child, and th'whole noble holier than thou crap. S'botherin' me. An' ye be not wantin' to sound like that when y'enter here."

Midii smiled coldly, "Judge I will be of that, Odin Lowe."

He shrugged indifferently as he pounded his fist against the door, twice loudly and once softly. "T'is yer hide. Don't be expectin' me t'jump in n'save ye."

"Certainly, will I not." There was heavy irony in Midii's voice though her face was cloaked in shadows, betraying nothing more than cool civility. "Done your job you have. Thank you I should. Half of your money now, as promised it was. Half later upon my leaving." Midii withdrew a small pouch and flicked her wrist, sending the leather-bound bag neatly into his open hand.

There was a glitter in his eyes and not bothering to count it, he stuffed the bag of coins into one of his coat pockets, his voice cloyingly dulcet as he said, "Why thank ye, yer ladyship. Glad t'be of service." Before Midii could make a retort, the door opened, admitting them into a small, dank bar. Midii wrinkled her nose as a cloud of smoke smelling of opium and harika almost choked her as she stepped into the room, and casually, she pulled back her hood, eyebrow arched as the patrons turned to look at her. They were a motley crew, toughneck group of pickpockets, thieves, and most probably assassins. Wonderful.

She turned slightly to glare at Odin but he just gave her a twisted smile, "Ye wanted somewhere outta the way, girl-child. This be as outta the way as it get. Th'room in the second floor, third door down be yours."

"Hmph." Suppressing the urge to kick Odin in the shin, she stalked over to the bar, sitting into one of the wobbly knock-kneed stool with well-balanced ease. Propping an elbow on the counter, she spared a glance at the man behind the counter, ordering coolly, "Surku. Clean the glass should be."

An ugly chuckle murmured through the room and she felt the air pressure around her change as two men sat on either side of her, the stale smell of beer and rot evident in their breath as they leaned over her, leering insolently over her dainty features and slightly curved figure. Oh this just gets better and better...Ignoring them, she reached out to take the filthy glass. A small frown of distaste wrinkled her brow as she saw the small...denizens...that swam laconically in the murky liquid. Her eyes narrowed.

"Clean this glass is not. Filth, it is!" Her voice turned wintry and she raised her gaze to glare lethally at the indifferent bartender who just shrugged and went back to polishing a glass absently with his rather dirty cloth. She scowled and would have risen to her feet but a large, meaty hand laid against her shoulder, pushing her roughly back into the seat.

"Well, well, pretty one. Yer not goin' so soon, are ye?"

"Yeah, forget th'glass. We got more...important...things t'speak of, yeah?"

"No." Midii said stonily. She stiffened as she felt a hand slipping under the folds of her cloak, brushing against her breast with deliberate crudity and she narrowed her eyes, fighting for control. "Release me at once!" Her voice was sharp and angry but calmly, she slipped her fingers into her sleeves, the cool metal handles of her throwing knives fitting into the space between her fingers and she shifted slightly as she calculated her chances against both of them. First things first...get that man off me!

Another sneer. "Nah, I like m'hand where t'is now."

A bizarre smile drifted across her face and her eyes, already a turbid gray, darkened to ebony. "Then on your head is your death."

She lifted her arm and slammed her elbow into his eye, simultaneously sliding her knives free of their sheathes as she dropped to both her feet, giving the blades a spin for good measure. Then she brought the knifepoint down in a swift jerk, feeling the blade slice through skin and sinew, grating against bone and then wood, plunged into both his hand and the countertop for good measure. The man screamed in pain and horror as he stared at his immobilized hand, the knife point imbedded to hilt and ignoring him for a while, Midii skidded away from the counter, her short sword out as she regarded the other man with calm, analytical eyes.

He growled, coming at her as he swung his own sword. The blow almost knocked her to her knees and she gritted her teeth, holding the blade firm although she felt as if her shoulder ligaments were being torn from her torso. He was heavier than she was by a good hundred pounds and unfortunately, that weight was probably made entirely of muscle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Odin watching her silently, hand resting lightly on his knife hilt and surprise made her twitch her lips briefly. Was he worried for her safety? Right, perhaps when hell had frozen over!

With a heave she threw back his blade, her foot landing a sidekick against his jaw. He staggered back but not giving him a chance to recover, Midii grabbed his wrist, fingers digging into the nerves until the sword fell from his numbed hand and he looked up straight into a length of steel...and the coldest eyes that he ever hoped to see.

"Mention did I that a mercenary I am?" Midii queried softly. She had her sword point resting against the bridge of his nose and he swallowed nervously, Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Listen lady, we don't want any trouble-"

"Trouble I did not want either. Your presence you and your sword-friend forced on me," She slid her eyes towards the man at the counter who was clutching his hand as crimson blood welled from beneath the knife hilt. There was a look of pure terror on both their faces and the room seemed frozen, all eyes riveting on the tableau. "Kill you I should, for the insult."

Her cool logic made the man break out into sweat and he began to babble, his voice a mass of incoherent pleas. "Nah, you don'wanna do that. Look, I'll give y'ma money. I gotta wife n'two kids..."

"Snivel you should not if warrior you indeed are! Be here you should not if wife and children you have!" Midii snapped, then kicked him towards the door, her expression filled with disgust. She walked back to the bar and other man began to choke in fear, shying away from her as much as his pinned hand would allow.

She pressed her lips together, ice sharpening the gray of her dark eyes as she leaned over the terrified man, whispering softly, "One thing different there is between whore and mercenary, though we both our body sell. For sale is only my sword arm. Nothing more." She twisted the knifepoint a little more, and he blanched, a strangled whimper escaping from under his breath. "Understanding we have?"

"Yeah, understanding we have." The man repeated hoarsely then nearly screamed again when she jerked out the knife, casually laying it on the table by his wounded hand as if daring him to take it. She turned back to the bar, not bothering to watch them scamper out the door, supporting each other amidst whispers of "witch" and "freak".

Picking up her glass, she deliberately looked at the bartender, then brought the drink crashing down against the countertop. The crack and tinkle of the shards falling to the floor was unnaturally loud in the silent room. "Surku! And clean should the glass be!"

As the man hastened to respond, Odin walked up to the suddenly deserted counter, and Midii turned her head to acknowledge him, her brow raised inquiringly. He chuckled, raising his own mug in a toast. "So, Shibai. Somethin' be tellin' me I've been underestimatin' ye."

Midii glanced back at him...and smiled.

 

 ***

 

They became fast friends after that; Odin's demeanor grew considerably warmer and he took it upon himself to walk her around the city each day. He seemed to take a kind of perverse amusement from watching her play the part of ice-eyed village-born mercenary towards the haughty aristocracy and more than once, Midii glanced up at her tall companion, eyebrow arched in question. Each time, he glanced back at her and shrugged, an indifferent grin playing about his lips but Midii could see the sharp bitterness that sometimes lurked behind the cheerful façade. In his manner there was a paradoxical vacillation between contempt and envy towards the highborn nobles they passed on the street; it was as if he simultaneously loved and hated, yearned for and rejected, and what he wished for so passionately for, Midii understood all too well.

He was, she guessed, a bastard born to some noble lineage, as she herself was, and Midii sympathized, knowing all too well the shame and silent humiliation that the ones holding the bastardy stigma experienced. Outcast to nobility and rejected by the lower class, they found themselves alone in the world, unable to fully conform into anything; so they grasped at any possible profession out of defiance or some perverse way to prove to their parents that they were strong enough to be independent of the childhood needs of love and comfort. Perhaps...to prove that they were worthy of being respected as equals, if they could not be loved as a child.

For a second, Midii's lips twisted unhappily; it never worked of course. Lady Anne Une was a hard woman. To her, Midii was an unexpected surprise that had distressed her to no ends; things like that just did not happen to a lady. To give Lady Une her credit though, she had tried to be a good mother, but her time-consuming position as Prelate Kilan's Advisor as well as some lingering awkwardness over Midii's chosen profession had opened a gulf between them. It was difficult to be both mother and commander, Midii knew, but as a result, Lady Une had tried to distance herself from Midii to give her an objective perspective...perhaps too objective.

She suspected that Odin's position was no different. If one looked closely, one could see his telltale brilliant jade eyes that ran in the Barton line and the fine bones (marred however it was by the scar) that raised his cheekbones slightly and squared his jaw. And yet he denounced the Barton family with a vengeance, spitting on the ground with vehement loathing when his surname was mentioned.

There were times when his virulent hatred frightened her; she didn't quite understand why. She should have been overjoyed for this man who hated the Bartons so much would willingly help her gain the knowledge to destroy them. But sometimes...there was something in his eyes...

With a start, Midii realized that she had stopped in her conversation with Odin to pursue her melancholy thoughts and shook herself out with a mental effort. Standing up from the table where they had been lounging, she announced quietly, "A job I will need. Strange it will seem to see a lazy mercenary with her pouch so full..." She dropped her voice lower and her accent lightened as she added softly so that only Odin could hear, "And it's time. I need to know the specifications of the Barton's attack plans. What better way than to infiltrate the palace as just another hire-sword?"

Instead of trying to dissuade her as she expected him to, Odin nodded soberly and she realized yet again how alike they were. He understood her position as well; this was a contract by blood and loyalty and one did not stand in the way of such contracts.

"Aye." He favored with a crooked smile as he added, "Sometimes, t'is hard to remember that ye'are not really who ye play at bein, Shibai; ye play th'part as well as any shadow-guard. Yer good at what ye do...but ye must remember, them that rule this land are good at playin' games too." His eyes were hooded as he added, "Ye dinna know who you may be trustin."

"I will be on my guard," Midii replied softly, and reached over the table to clasp his hand in hers. "And I already know this, my friend."

"Do ye?" He asked cryptically, then sighed, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate 'em, Shibai. They're...we're," he corrected himself bitterly, "a bastard race; scooped up from th'Gods' midden heap an'formed t'the body of men. No savin' grace, no loyalty, jus'avarice an'ambition. If t'would earn them power, they'd sell their flesh n'blood t'Istall." He made a sharp gesture to the length of torn and seamed flesh that ran the length of his face, adding coldly, "This I got from m'so called father. Sent me on a mission." Another vicious smile. "'parantly I wasn't suppose t'return."

Midii gripped his fingers tighter, in comfort or to stop him from speaking, she didn't know which. After all, was she not in a similar mission? "You're past that time in your life." She said quietly. "You need him not anymore." A smile curved her lips and a rare sparkle touched her gray eyes, making her seem younger, "Perhaps the Barton line is wallowing in the midden heap. Isn't that as good a reason as any not to associate with them anymore?"

He stared at her, then gave a hoarse bark of laughter. "Yeah, never thought that way." He squeezed her hand briefly in response before pulling away. "G'won. Ye have a job t'do." With a nod, she pulled on her cloak, the heavy sable silk swirling heavily about her shoulders, and silently disappeared out the door.

 

 

Tbc...

 

 

AN: argh! I know, I haven't written in a long time! Gomen! -_-;; this time of the semester would have to be known as "hell week" although certainly, hell has lasted longer than just a week. But projects are due (the week before spring break *grumble*) and I have just discovered another form of fandom that I fell in love with: gamer doujinshi =^_^= (in other words, I write my own comic about something having to do vaguely with RPG games). I read this one (so long!) called at megatokyo.com and it was SOOOOO cool!! So, well...yeah, sable and her bro have taken on a new pet project. -_-;; heh.

 

Also, this chapter was supposed to include ALL of Midii's story, but when the page number hit 13 and I was nowhere near the end, K-chan suggested that I split the side story into two+ chaps, so that's what's happening. ALSO...Kristine told me that Midii sounds uncomfortably like Yoda, and while I do enjoy Star Wars from time to time...THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!! -_-;; All I did was use inverted sentence structures...it was not supposed to sound like Yoda-san!! Luckily that is not how she will talk the rest of the time...it just happened that that accent was...taken...by a long-eared, few thousand year old alien hermit. *sweatdrop*

 

Shouts out go to:

angelic1090, lady scarlet-une, Kristine (yes, she still sounds like Yoda...bite me. ^_~ lol *hugs), Goldberry (hi hi...I _LOVE_ your new chapter...even though it took me SO long to finally get around to reading it...argh...I NEED MORE THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN A DAY!), SJ, MaraLaeh Lin, Chibi Cat, mama-sama, Sai, Ley, Athame, Jupiter's Light, teresa, Silver Wing, Meio-chan, Amanda Dale (HI!!!!!!!!!! ^__^ <<<first time seeing you off the ML...*happy smile), Crystal, SJ, a_owl (thanks for the email...do I plan to pair Midii and Trowa? *sweatdrop* er...if they survive their encounter. ^_~ tee hee, kidding, kidding) and stargirl2004.

^_^ Luv ya'll! *grinz* don't study too hard for upcoming finals...if you have them! (*argh*) and remember, staying up twenty-four hours is NOT a fun way to spend Saturday night...especially if you're calculating the rotation of a space colony around Mars. Thing spins, how fast? Why does it matter??? Oh....but...oh I see...we don't want it to CRASH into the surface of the planet....-_-;; right, that would be bad. <<<kinda dazed and rambling from lack of sleep. Tee hee....

If you want me to email you any new chapters, leave your email address, or send me a message at furiesofhell@yahoo.com. ^_~ I luv ta chat too, so giive my IM a ring if ur in the mood!