Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Slippery Women

Chapter 17: Slippery Women

“Here? NOW?” Samantha’s eyes widened.

“Shhh,” Razia frantically waved her hands before peeking around the corner. The landlord stood in the hallway and he was talking to the people inside her apartment with what passed for his inside voice. As loud as he was, Razia couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. “Shit. Let me think.”

There was no telling how much time she had, or whether they would just close the door and wait for her inside. A week ago Razia only had one person she’d pissed off enough to want her dead. Now it was three or four, and there was no way of telling who they worked for. Briefly, the idea of it just being a maid and the landlord crossed her mind. She wouldn’t put past either of them to try and rob her during one of her long absences.

It could’ve been that, but odds were not on her side. Neither was time. The longer they stood on the stairs the greater the chance someone would come by. Luckily, this is where she thrived. Razia took a deep breath and held it in. When she let it out, she had the start of a plan. “Alright. Samantha, I’m going to need your help.

It took a couple minutes to set up. Long enough for Razia to think about the dozen ways it could go disastrously wrong or just fall short. She hated having to rely on people she didn’t know well enough to predict, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Samantha understood her part in it well enough, but Jackie had her worried.

“You sure about this?” he asked, looking up at the stairs doubtfully.

“You’ll do fine,” said Samantha. “You’re the best liar in the family by far!”

“Am not,” he protested.

“See? I believed you for a second.”

“Focus,” Razia hissed. She pushed a battered metal key into Jackie’s hand and closed it. “Just take this and hold it out like you were expecting to go through the door at the end. Be surprised when you see people there. They’re going to ask you questions about me. You don’t know anything other than where you saw me and what I told you. Got it?”

The teen closed his hand over the key. He swallowed hard and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think so. They’re not gonna hurt me, are they?”

Razia flashed him a reassuring smile. “If they hit you, I’ll kiss it better after. They’re not gonna give two craps about you once they go after me. That’ll give you time for part two.”

That didn’t seem to ease his fears much, but he gave her a shaky nod. “Okay.” With one last look to his sister he climbed the stairs. Razia and Samantha hurried down the stairs and around the corner, into the nook right next to the kitchen. Samantha stood in front of Razia, looking only mildly conspicuous next to the barrels of food and wine.

As far as her plans went, this one was bottom of the barrel. It relied entirely on luck, a teenage boy, and the stupidity of her enemies. As the seconds dragged on and Samantha shifted impatiently from foot to foot, Razia tried to reassure herself that her plan wasn’t stupid, it was just simple. The simpler the plan, the fewer things there were that could go wrong, right? If things went sour, she could break away and give Samantha and Jackie a chance to run for it and --

Thunder erupted above them. Three people came storming down the stairs, dragging Jackie by the back of his shirt. Razia made herself as small as possible, trusting in Samantha’s size to hide her from sight and stomping down a smidgeon of guilt about it. She needn’t have worried. The four of them went forward without looking back at them. The two mercenaries, a man and a woman, shook Jackie as they interrogated him, but Razia couldn’t make out the words as they went out the front door.

“Oh no, Jackie…” Samantha winced.

“He’ll be okay, I promise,” said Razia, standing up. “Hurting him badly would be unwanted attention, and they think they’re about to catch me. Alright, you ready for part two?”

Samantha bit her lip, but nodded. Her optimism was hard to challenge, but she was clearly afraid of the current situation. That fear gave Razia strength enough for both of them.

“You’re doing good Sam, I promise. In an hour we’ll be laughing about this. Now go outside and bring it around to the window at the end, okay?”

“Right. What if they see me?” Samantha’s eyes flitted back to the door. The landlord stood in the entrance looking out, tugging at his hair.

“If they see you and go after you: run. Forget about me. Well,” Razia amended with a nervous laugh, “maybe let out a blood curdling scream so I know things went tits up and I have to run too.” She put her hands on Samantha’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze before bolting up the stairs.

In their haste, the mercenaries left the door open. Razia peeked inside cautiously, wary of a potential third person staying behind just in case. She winced. No third person but the room was torn apart. The closet had been emptied out onto the floor and her nicest clothes were scattered everywhere. Her jewelry box and small lockbox were on the bed, upturned. Shards, rings, necklaces, and Islander silver coins were dumped in a pile.

Razia took a deep breath. This made things a lot more difficult. She had no clue how long she had to gather her shit and get the hell out of there, but she gave it a few minutes until they realized she wasn’t where she’d ‘met’ Jackie before sending him up to the room. They hadn’t seemed to rob her, but the mess was going to cost her time. As she let out her breath, she had a list to follow.

First thing she did was close the door and lock it. That’d buy her at least 10 seconds when the time came. She scooped up the shards and jewels and put them all in the jewelry box, closing it haphazardly. Razia ran to the window. Down on the ground, Samantha was just now coming up with the rickshaw, panting as she pulled it behind her. She flashed a grin to Razia, who grinned back.

Looking now, the fall was higher than Razia pictured. “Watch your head,” Razia called down in a raised whisper. This wasn’t too bad a problem. She stripped the bed and threw it out the window. It landed half on the rickshaw, half on the ground. Samantha quickly picked it up and packed the back of the rickshaw with it. Next came the clothes, tossed out by the handful. That one hurt. Her clothes were her weapons and armor, the tools of her trade, and one of the best ways to instantly feel good about herself. Each tossed fistful of clothes was dutifully scooped up by Samantha and stuck with the rest. The rickshaw was already getting full and she still had plenty more to throw.

Jackie came stumbling into the alley, out of breath and sporting a brand new black eye. He waved his arms wildly in the air. “They’re coming!” he cried.

That nervous bundle of energy in Razia’s stomach plummeted. Seconds later, the door to her apartment rattled. And again before the people on the other side let out an angry exclamation. “Shiiiiiiiit,” she groaned.

She ran for the bed and pushed for all that she was worth. Painfully slowly it moved along the floor, making an awful scraping sound against the clay. The bed went in front of the door, and the dresser she pulled down on top of the bed.

“Come on out of there,” a woman’s voice called out. “You’ve got nowhere to go. We’re not going to hurt you, we just want to talk.”

Razia let out an unhinged laugh. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that one?” she called back. “Does anyone fall for that?”

“You’d be surprised,” a male voice said. “What if we really, really meant it this time?”

“Mmm. I’m gonna have to pass, I’m afraid,” Razia returned, smiling in spite of herself.

“Think of it this way sweetie,” the woman called, drumming her fingers on the door. “If we have to break through, we’re going to have to pay for the door and that’ll put us in a bad mood. If we’re in a good mood, you get to meet up with the boss with your legs unbroken. Doesn’t that sound better?”

Razia’s heart pounded mercilessly. It was that strange combination of fear and excitement she couldn’t get enough of. “Oh, it does. I’m thinking we’re at a solid maybe now. Who sent you?”

The man laughed. “The man you just royally pissed off.”

“You’re going to need to be more specific, I’m afraid.” Razia grabbed the heavy jewelry box. There was still a good amount of her jewelry that wouldn’t fit with the shards in there too. But this was the last thing she needed.

“Look,” the woman said, “you’ve got nowhere to go and we’re getting impatient. You can’t stay in there forever.”

“You’re right,” said Razia, stepping over to the window. She hefted the jewelry box up to the window. It was only a fifteen foot drop. “And I don’t intend to!” Razia dropped the box over the vague center of the waiting Rickshaw. She missed and the box hit a rickety wheel and continued on to the ground, spilling open sideways.

A chorus of “Shit” sounded from the three of them. Samantha dropped to the ground and scooped up the valuables while the couple of other stragglers in the alley stood and moved closer. “Back up,” Jackie said, putting himself between Samantha and the stranger. “Get the hell away from us.” The closest, a down on his luck man in his late fifties, leered at him.

“Alright, we warned you.” The man on the other side of the door genuinely sounded regretful, but that didn’t stop him and his partner from busting down the door. A large heavy crash later and the doorknob and part of the wall came spilling over the bed and along the ground. A green eye appeared in the new hole, locking onto her and narrowing.

Razia smiled and waved cheerfully at the mercenary as she stepped onto the window ledge. “Tell your boss I’ll come see him. At my earliest convenience. Byyyyye!” Razia grabbed a fistful of vines and dropped from the window. The vines snapped away from the lattice going up the walls, slowing her fall until she landed roughly on the ground, knees jolting from the impact.

She ran at the straggler, waving her arms and screaming wildly. He stared for a second before he took off and ran, not wanting to deal with another of Orchrisus’ crazies. Razia howled with laughter, heart racing and thundering in her head. “Come on,” she cried, helping lift the battered jewelry box to the rickshaw’s seat. “We need to leave, now.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

No one had any arguments. Jackie grabbed the handles in front and pulled. It rolled forward a few feet without issue before the wheel faltered and splintered. Two more steps and the wheel wobbled wildly before coming off entirely. “Shit,” Jackie swore again, bracing himself so the entire thing didn’t topple over sideways. Razia dove to that side and shoved her shoulder against it. Samantha joined her a second later.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Razia urged, pushing hard. Jackie nodded and together with Samantha’s help Razia held that side up as they hurried out of the alley and onto the main street, looking behind them for pursuers.

None came, or at least not at first. They hurried the rickshaw west, barreling down the street as people quickly got out of the way. This was the part Razia had worried about at first. Transporting her valuables in broad daylight in the middle of Orchrisus was a great way to no longer have those valuables to worry about. If some unscrupulous bastard stopped them and demanded whatever they had, no one was likely to stop and help them unless the Watch was in earshot, and even then....

In the end, it seemed like the odd sight of a bruised teenager pulling a one wheeled rickshaw while two wildly different looking women held up the side was too much to be worth disturbing. Orchrisans knew when to mind their own business. When the people at the inn didn’t reveal themselves, Razia let herself finally begin to relax. “Alright, I think we’re good. How are you doing up there Jackie? What happened?”

Jackie looked over his shoulder. His eye was puffy and bruised and there was a cut in his upper lip. “It wasn’t so bad,” he said, forcing a laugh. “I went up there like you told me and they grabbed me. I got a little sc- they surprised me with how fast they started asking the questions, so I froze. They hit me a couple of times. It didn’t hurt, though!”

Razia smiled at him and shook her head. “Of course not. You’re a tough kid. They’d have to do a lot worse than that to get to you.”

Her words had the intended effect and Jackie puffed up with pride. His back straightened and he walked taller. “Yeah! I finally told them and they took me with them. When they saw you weren’t in the market like I said, they hurried back.”

“And now we lost them. Good work, everyone!” Razia let out a laugh. They were safe now, with very little lost along the way. Almost all of it was on Jackie. She’d have to pay him back for his rickshaw. Just another debt added on top of the others, but at least this one would be easy. She winked at the teen, who flushed and faced the road again.

“Who sent them?” Samantha spoke up for the first time since they’d started running. “You think it was Otho?”

Razia shrugged. “Could be. But I’m not sure just how much he has left he could throw at us. Otho’s small time. It could be Mr. Cicero. I’m going to have to talk to him.” Unless it was Otho, who was dipping into everything he had to punish her for fucking with his business. Or those muggers. Or maybe Piro and his pet dog Christophe finally sent someone her way. She’d been so brazen lately it would almost serve her right if word reached them.

She felt a twinge of unease. Maybe she should take this opportunity with Quentin to lay low, instead of going out and attracting more trouble. It had always been a game, seeing whose noses Razia could tweak and get away with it. Most of the time she got away with it, occasionally she had to pay for her mistakes, but she’d never had a friend be the one who got hurt for it. The risk wasn’t over for Samantha, and Razia was going to make sure nothing worse happened to her friend.

“They hit Jackie,” Samantha said in an unfamiliar tone. Razia turned around. The redhead was steaming in place, face contorted with building rage. “He’s just a kid and they smacked him around!”

“I’m not a kid!” Jackie shouted, drawing even more looks from the people in the street.

“I’m going to handle it,” said Razia. “I’m the one causing trouble, you’re just along for the ride. I’m going to take care of the mercs, and I’m gonna do something about your debt. I promise. I can’t pay it all, but I can make a dent in it, or maybe convince Mr. Cicero to let me buy the debt off him.”

Samantha shifted her grip on the rickshaw and squeezed Razia’s arm. “Thanks Razia. Just knowing daddy’s not gonna get punished for me walking out’ll be good. You know any good, safe places to work? The Silk Lounge was great for that. Until it wasn’t.”

“A few,” Razia nodded. She looked around. They were getting closer to Quentin’s neighborhood. It wouldn’t be long now. “But if you want to make some real money, I know a few rich, dirty old men who’d be willing to pay out their ass for a special show, if you’re up for it.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun,” a voice said from right behind her. “Look who we have here, boys.”

A chill ran down Razia’s spine. She looked over her shoulder to find three shirtless, tattooed men behind them. Although it was dark and lasted only minutes, Razia recognized them immediately. “Oh hey,” she said, unable to stop the shit eating grin from spreading across her face. It was the best way to hide the renewed surge of fear. “I didn’t recognize you with the fucked up nose. How’s that healing?”

The leader’s face darkened. The big guy and short one stood behind him, arms crossed over their chests in a classic intimidation group pose. “This is nothing compared to what Christophe is gonna do to you when we take you in. Get her, boys.”

“Razia?” Samantha looked between her and the gang nervously.

“Just like before: RUN.” Razia shoved hard on the rickshaw. Jackie put on a burst of speed and Samantha scurried to catch up.

Running away from these three had been hard enough when it was just her and Quentin and a dark night full of places to hide. Now, pulling/pushing a one legged rickshaw down a busy street, things weren’t looking too good for them. For every person who got the hell out of their way as Jackie ran as far as his scrawny legs would allow, there were more who froze and cost them precious fractions of a second as the teen jerked hard on the handles to avoid colliding with them. Samantha struggled the most, holding up the rear end. She wasn’t the fastest person on the best of days and now she was struggling to keep up as the trio slowly closed the distance between them.

Ten feet. Five feet. The biggest of them pushed past the leader and the short one and reached out. His fingers brushed the back of Samantha’s curly red hair before closing on nothing. Samantha let out a surprised scream. Razia had to think, and think quickly.

She reached for the chest in the back of the rickshaw. This worked well for Quentin, so why not for her? Razia grabbed a fistful of shards and threw them on the ground. “FREE SHARDS!” she shrieked, grabbing a second fistful and throwing them straight in the air.

The odd spectacle of two women and a teen dragging a broken rickshaw around kept people at bay for the most part. The spectacle of a woman throwing money around had the opposite effect. Bystanders dropped what they were doing and dove for the shards. Even the shortest of their pursuers paused, then stopped and shoved people out of the way as he scooped up the polished glass. The leader and the big one kept going, shoving past those who stopped.

It didn’t stop them, but it slowed them. Razia looked ahead. They were so close now. “Take a left here,” she shouted for Jackie’s benefit. “NOW.” She shoved the side of the rickshaw a hard right and Samantha mimicked her as Jackie pulled it around, leading them down the side street that led to Quentin’s sanctuary of a home.

The home stretch was a straightaway with no one around. There was nothing left to slow them down, but the same was true for their two pursuers. As soon as they broke away from the crowd the two tattooed men gained on them. Worse yet, Razia’s legs were like rubbery lead and her knees screamed in pain. Samantha gasped for air and stumbled.

The rickshaw kept going for another few seconds before Razia realized Samantha had dropped. She looked on with numb shock as Samantha rolled to a stop and the two men came up to her. A scream welled up in her throat and died as panic jolted her wide awake. “Go go go inside here,” Razia yelled at Jackie, looking back at Samantha one last time.

Jackie did as he was told. They turned into the opening in the walls that led to the center courtyard. Their commotion preceded them. Two of the guards working the square were waiting for them. One of them jumped in front of Jackie, hands up to stop him from going any further. Another reached for Razia but she ducked under and put the last of her strength into one final burst of speed. She sucked in a big gulp of air and screamed, “QUENTIN!”

She fell to the grass, heart thundering nonstop in her throat. No matter how hard she tried to breathe, nothing came to her. They had Samantha. Gods, they had Samantha, and it was all Razia’s fault. Her eyes burned as badly as her chest and her breath hitched again. She fought to get to her feet. A strong hand took hers and pulled her the rest of the way.

Quentin loomed over, eyes narrowed in a way that made him look murderous. His harsh features were stretched in a natural snarl. “What happened? What’s going on?” He looked past her towards the gates, shifting from foot to foot with coiling energy.

“Those guys from the other night,” Razia gasped. “Samantha.” She pointed.

Quentin grimaced. “Stay behind me.”

He limped forward in short, shuddering steps. Razia remembered then how battered he was, and how today was supposed to be his day to rest and recover. She’d fucked up his day just like she’d fucked up Samantha’s, and now he was going out there for her. To clean up her mess. Razia swallowed a lump in her throat. Quentin’s steps straightened out and became stronger after a few steps. He drew himself up as the first of the guards came to meet him.

“Quintius? The hell is going on here, who is sh --”

“She’s with me, she lives here now. There are bandits out there,” Quentin said in a tone that made it clear he would not be slowed down. They pushed past the man and went out the gates.

The two men were there, rejoined by the short, round one. The big one had Samantha’s wrists in his hands and held them above her head. Her feet remained on the ground only by the tips of her toes. The leader had his knife out and against her throat. “Razia!” She called out.

“There we go,” the leader said. “Told you we’d just need to wait, Gregor!”

The big one grinned and looked down. “Shoulda just walked off with this one. Made them come to us while we had a little fun, eh Markus?”

The short one shook his head. “Not my type.”

“Enough,” Quentin barked, sharp enough to make both Razia and the leader jump. “Release her and leave. Now.”

The leader let out an incredulous laugh. “Why should we do that, Quentin? Quentin Quintius,” he sneered, eyes still puffy from his injury. “Did your bitch mother hate you so much she named you somethin’ that stupid? You hideous freak.”

Quentin stared him down unblinkingly. “The last time you got away with just a broken nose. If you don’t walk away right now I’ll do worse.”

“Let’s just kill him Phil,” Gregor said. “There’s three of us and one of him. No one’s coming for him.”

Razia looked back. The guards were still hiding behind the walls instead of doing their damned job and protecting the neighborhood. “Samantha, we’re gonna get you out of here, I promise.”

Phil twirled his glass knife in his hands. “Sure. Trade her for you. We don’t even want the fat whore. We just want you,” he pointed the dagger in her direction. “You’re gonna come with us and Christophe’s gonna pay us a small fortune and then...Well, I’d hate to be you. Or maybe we’ll sell you to the fat man in the silk robes. You’ve pissed a lot of people off, haven’t you?”

Anger welled up in her chest. She opened her mouth but Quentin took a step forward, drawing a huge knife from his belt. He held it out to the side as if showing it off. He didn’t say anything then, he just glared and waited. The three thugs were silent at first, withering under his glare.

“Alright, screw this, Gregor is right,” Phil hissed. “Three of us, one of him.”

“Two of you,” Quentin corrected, nodded towards Gregor. “Unless you want her to get away. So just the two of you.” He took another step forward. The others took a step back. “Which one first? You might get me, but I’ll take at least one of you with me. Which of you are willing to die for some shards?”

Razia dared to hope things were going to be alright. Seeing the looks of realization on those idiots’ faces as Quentin’s words sunk in, she wanted to laugh. They were crumbling before her very eyes. Quentin’s permanent scowl and statue-like stillness was doing it. And then she heard footsteps and she let out the laugh she was holding in.

Sure enough, one of the guards had finally gotten off his ass and came around, pike lowered and aimed at them. He came up next to Quentin, jaw set. “Release her and get away from this neighborhood. Watch doesn’t care if we kill intruders.”

Two versus two was worse odds than they cared to deal with. Phil sneered at them and backed up. He motioned for Gregor to release Samantha. “This isn’t over,” he said. “We know where you live now. We’re going to get you!”

“Fine,” said Quentin. “Leave.”

Samantha ran for them, eyes welling up with tears. Razia met her halfway, throwing her arms around her and squeezing as if she’d disappear. “I’m sorry I fell,” she said, sniffling.

Razia was crying too and laughed. “Don’t apologize for that you silly bitch. It’s my fault this happened to you. I’m so sorry.”

Beside them, Quentin slumped and let out a groan. “Thank the gods they left. I can’t see a thing.”