I am making my first chapter available for comment. I would appreciate your views on my work so far.
Chapter 1
It was the damned knife.
The moment she saw it she had imagined herself slicing through hundreds of purse strings with ease, ending the day with a fine profit and a handy tool for future employment. No doubt she could fetch a good price for it, too, if she wanted. Even to an untrained eye it was clearly a good quality, solid dagger with a beautifully carved bone handle and strong blade.
What she hadn't counted on was the previous owner of the knife being alert enough to detect her taking possession of the weapon - for, apart from its obvious uses regarding pick-pocketing, that was quite clearly what it was. She still found it hard to believe. Llewella was as steady-handed as the best of the street kids who made their living relieving others of theirs. She'd even made sure that he was fully occupied talking to his acquaintance. Her deft movements should have gone unnoticed.
And now here she was running for her life from two - strikingly attractive, she had to admit - young men. Maybe this little excursion wouldn't end too badly after all, if she allowed them to catch her.
As she ran - light shoes pounding the dry dirt - Llewella was grateful for the lean, fit figure that allowed her not only to slip between market patrons with ease, but also to blend un with the boys of the streets in her dyed wool pants and grubby white shirt. She was tall for a girl her age, but not so much that she'd stand out in a crowd. She also wore her brown hair short, which helped with the illusion. Even as she appreciated her attributes, however, she felt a pang of jealousy as she dodged past full-figured women in stylish dresses and fabulous hair-styles.
She was thankful that the pair chasing her did not appear to be locals. One of them didn't even look like a native of Aghacia. Obviously she had the advantage in this chase.
After a few minutes of slipping between startled shoppers, Llewella reached the margin of the crowd. She crouched low and slunk around the corner of a store. She jogged a little farther down the street, until she was certain she wasn't being followed. She allowed herself a breath and to slow to a walk when she suddenly found herself unceremoniously pushed to the dirt on her back as someone leapt from the roof above, landing on top of her. She struggled briefly, but her wrists were pressed roughly into the ground by her head by someone much stronger than herself. She looked up at a dusty face, framed by wavy, sandy-brown hair. The scowl was rendered less effective by the blue eyes that sparkled from the exhilaration of the chase. She heard footsteps running around the corner behind her.
A hand grabbed Llewella's collar fiercely and the man straddling her stood as the one behind her lifted her from the ground, pushed her into the side of a building and pressed something to her chest. She glanced down at a compact crossbow, loaded and digging into her sternum. She looked into the umbrageous face of the man holding a steady finger over the trigger. He had a darker complexion that was usual for the inhabitants of Cheer, brown eyes and wore his dark hair long.
"Gosh, you're a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, aren't you? Or should that be the other way around?" Llewella ventured, sweeping her eyes over her captor. He really was rather attractive, with hard, yet somehow beautiful, eyes. His nose was small, but not so as to be out of proportion, and his lips, while set stern, were full and somehow inviting to a girl Llewella's age. He wore a dark shirt and a stiff leather waist coat, on the inside of which Llewella could see an assortment of knife handles and other potential weapons. She wondered about picking her comments more carefully. And possibly keeping her hormones in check.
"Jonas..." The crossbow-wielder's friend warned.
"Back off, Alvaro. He took my knife," the one called Jonas stated over his shoulder, before returning his focus to Llewella. "Now, give it back."
Although he did not shout, the command nevertheless made Llewella jump a little and the point of the crossbow bolt grazed her chest through her shirt.
"OK, OK. I'll give it back. Could you consider maybe not pressing that thing into me? I think you've drawn blood." Llewella fumbled at her belt to free the knife and held it up. "Here. Now ease off me, would you?"
Jonas grabbed the knife, sheathed it on his belt, then turned on his heel.
"Come on, Al. We've got work to do." He disabled the crossbow and attached it, also, to his belt.
"Thanks for the sport," Alvaro grinned and his blue eyes flashed as he dusted off Llewella's shoulder. "It's been fun." Then he turned, jogging to catch up to Jonas, heading back into the crowd.
Llewella watched them go for a moment, until the scratch from the crossbow began to sting, recalling her attention to it. She scanned the area around her and spotted a flower box on a window nearby. She stepped over to it and brushed her fingers over a couple of leaves. They wilted. The small graze on her chest tingled, and then ceased to hurt.
She couldn't pin-point exactly when she had discovered this talent. Like any other child, she had gathered her share of cuts and bruises. Unlike other children, her injuries never seemed to hang around. She never got to experience the joy of picking a dry scab from her knee. Scabs and scars were simply not a part of Llewella's past.
Llewella came out of her reverie, lifted her eyes from her fingertips and looked down the road, where Alvaro and Jonas were about to disappear back into the crowd. The two young men were about the same height but, while Alvaro had the classic masculine broad shoulders angling down to a narrow waist, Jonas had a leaner figure.
Well, fancying foreign men and dreaming about what adventures they might have wasn't going to keep her fed, or in clothes - especially as she was starting to fill hers in interesting ways. She suspected that her current disguise would not be enough to reduce the interest from men for much longer. But what was a girl with more self respect than her life's station dictated to do?
For now, at least, she would use what she had while she had it. And what she had was a lean stature and fleet feet - ideal for going unnoticed or mighty fast, whichever the situation required. Right now, heading back into the market crowd and being unnoticed for a while seemed the best plan.
Llewella stole back into the crowd milling about the town centre. Shouts rang up from every direction as stall-owners tried to attract buyers and parents tried to control their children.
She wasn't greedy, although it was tempting to me in such a lucrative environment, and once she had collected a couple of purses she thought it best to take herself away from further temptation and turned to return to her home. Home, this uncharacteristically hot, dry summer, was a bushy alcove by Big River that ran through Cheer.
Yes, Big River. The people who had settled Cheer had been practical wealth-seekers - panning the river and mining the hills for the gold that the first explorers had found. They did not possess a wealth of imagination or creativity.
The river probably wasn't all that big, when compared to others; much like everything else about Cheer. The big-little city, some people called it. To those who had been outside of Aghacia, an island-nation, it was definitely just a town. But it was the biggest that Aghacia had to offer.
"Llew!"
She turned to the distressed voice. "Kynas?"
Sure enough her friend, Kynas, was struggling in the grip of two thief-takers, and Llewella instinctively stooped and stepped close to the side of a building to avoid detection by association.
"Help me, Llew! They'll take my hands!" Kynas wailed.
"Should've kept them to yourself, shouldn't you?" said one of the thief-takers while the other looked around, presumably for Llewella. She backed further into the shadows.
Damn it! She liked Kynas, but if she stood up for him the same fate would await her.
She'd known Kynas since before her father had died and he had shown her the ropes when she found herself on the streets. It hadn't been long before she had proved to be even better at the delicate job of redistributing wealth. But they had stayed good friends. And now she had to decide whether to put herself at risk and help him, or to let him be taken to the authorities who would, almost without a doubt, indeed remove at least one of his hands. He would be reduced to begging, in a town in which almost no one had discretionary funds.
Feeling ashamed, Llewella backed away and carried on down the road, shoulders hunched.
Llewella rounded a corner, walking past a man sitting on the rickety wooden steps at the back of an old store.
"Hello, young man. Care to join an old fellow in a drop of whisky?" he slurred.
She ignored him and carried on walking but she soon heard his feet scuffing the road behind her.
"It's good stuff."
She quickened her pace.
"OK, what if I pay you? I'm sure you could do with a little pocket money."
Llewella turned to face him, still stepping backwards to maintain some distance between them. "I don't think I'm the flavour you're after, old man." And she spun on her heals to continue on her way. She would never have thought that being a girl would be her saving grace when it came to brushing off unwanted advances.
"Ah, well, with a sweet, round arse like that, I should have known."
He suddenly lunged at her, grabbing for her legs, sending them both face first into the ochre ground. Llewella got a face full of dirt, while the man fell on the backs of her legs and quickly scrabbled to start yanking at the waist of her trousers.
"Geroff!" she yelled, and then began to cough for the dust that she had inhaled.
Her belt-rope was not of the finest quality, and it gave way under the man's determined tugs. Llewella's efforts to right herself were thwarted as her legs continued to be yanked out from under her in the man's efforts to unwrap his prize. Her pants slipped, revealing the arse that the man had been admiring. He paused for a moment to grope the soft flesh. A short complaint issued from her assailant as the graze on Llewella's jaw healed itself. The distraction gave Llewella the pause she needed to swing an arm back at him, knocking him off her. He rallied quickly, though, and was on her again, holding her to the ground. He was not nearly as fine looking as the young man that had held her in the same position just minutes earlier, and she struggled more ferociously.
The man's hair was greying, and he wore it long. His chin was unshaved and his remaining teeth yellow. Llewella had never seen a nose as big as his. It wasn't wide or bulbous, in fact it was quite narrow, but it protruded from his face like a sheer mountain range. His breath was a mix of the rotting remnants of his previous meals and cheap whisky. He planted a wet, semi-toothy smooch over her lips, which she clamped shut against the onslaught.
"Get off me, you mangy mutt," Llewella muttered between clenched teeth after he disengaged his lips from hers, and tried to push him away, arms and legs working furiously.
For a fraction of a second, Llewella believed that he had decided to listen to her, as the weight of his body was lifted from her. Then, as arms looped under her armpits to help her regain her feet, she saw the same dark young man ramming the old man into a nearby wall as had done to her earlier. He was much more forceful with the old drunk. She turned her head and recognized the other young man. Alvaro. That was it.
She shook herself free of his, now relaxed, grasp and pulled her pants up. Alvaro was intent on watching Jonas plant several solid punches on the old man's jaw, so she supposed she had retained some dignity.
Just before the old man lost consciousness entirely, Jonas threw his limp body to the ground and turned to his friend and Llewella. He maintained a dark expression, despite his victory.
"You all right?" He asked as he approached Llewella.
"I'm fine." She dusted herself off. "Thanks all the same."
"Do you need us to drop you home?" Alvaro stepped in close and indicated the open wagon that, in the midst of the scuffle, Llewella had not heard pull up.
"I'm not going home." She didn't know exactly why she said it, other than the fact that she didn't really have a home meant that the statement was absolutely true. But she was also aware that seeing Kynas hauled away had alerted her to the imminent demise of her current lifestyle. She had an overwhelming desire to leave Cheer, and her life there, behind and these men were clearly from elsewhere. "Where are you two going?"
Alvaro's mouth opened to respond.
"We've got work to do." Jonas stated plainly, all regard for her safety falling from his expression.
Alvaro's mouth closed in disappointment and he scowled at Jonas's back as the moody young man stalked back to the cart.
"What sort of work?"
Again, Alvaro prepared to answer her.
"Work that is unsuitable for pick-pockets and whores." Jonas's voice floated back as he gathered up the long reins from the ground by the cart.
Llewella directed a scowl at him.
"That's not fair. You don't even know me."
"That's right. We don't. Come on, Alvaro."
Llewella turned a pleading look on Alvaro. He returned a sympathetic one, but then followed Jonas to the cart.
"Are you leaving Cheer?" Llewella followed Alvaro.
"Yes." Jonas swung up to the cart seat.
"Could I come with you?"
"No." Jonas gathered up the reins, determinedly ignoring her, while Alvaro was still climbing into the cart from the other side.
"Come on, Jonas." Llewella's heart leapt as the lighter-haired man finally piped up. "She might be fun to have along on the trip."
"Damn it, Alvaro! Don't you think one little girl is going to be enough of a handful? Yah!" He urged the carthorse into life, and it moved off at a walk.
Llewella walked alongside, just behind Jonas's field of vision. Alvaro must have caught a glimpse of her in his periphery, for he suddenly laughed and grinned at her.
Jonas turned to her, turned away again, and urged the horse into a trot. Llewella began to trot just behind the cart, hoping that he wouldn't go to a canter.
Alvaro kept looking back at her with is sparkling eyes, now and then saying something to his gruff companion.
Finally, Jonas reined in the horse. Llewella ran into the back of the suddenly still cart and leaned on it to catch her breath. Jonas jumped down off the cart, stalked the length of it and rounded on her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm coming with you."
Alvaro laughed. At his friend's exasperated expression, he said, "Come on Jonas. Give the kid a break. She's just trying to make a change." He swung down from the cart and joined them at the rear.
Reflex had Llewella saying "I ain't no kid," as she folded her arms and scowled at her supporter, who laughed.
"Stay out of it, Alvaro." Jonas muttered without shifting his eyes from staring down Llewella from under his lowered brow. Llewella took a breath and relaxed into looking back at him - not giving him the satisfaction of intimidating her. She began mentally preparing to stop blinking if this turned into a staring competition.
"You're not the boss, Jonas. Aris is."
"I'm his second, and he's not here."
"We could at least see what he has to say."
Jonas was quiet for a moment, apparently considering Alvaro's statement. He broke his glare to casually scan their surroundings as he spoke. "Look, we're heading a long ways out of Cheer. This job takes us back to Phyos," he looked back at her. "You been there?"
Llewella shook her head.
"It's all right, neither have I," Alvaro smiled.
Jonas rolled his eyes at his companion.
"It's not just a matter of taking a trip. We're doing a job. And when we finish it, on Phyos, we go our separate ways. If you came with us, you'd be on your own. No friends. No family. Are you ready for that?"
Llewella set her jaw in defiance and stated firmly, "Sure." It wasn't like she had a family anyway. And as for friends...
She held his gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly in counter-attack. She caught a hint of movement at the crease of his lips. He successfully suppressed the smile, or sneer, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Fine. You can come meet Aris. That's no guarantee that you'll be coming with us, though."
Llewella nodded her understanding and climbed into the back of the cart with the produce that the two men had bought in town, before there could be more hod-ups, grateful that she wouldn't have to run any farther. Jonas and Alvaro climbed up front again, and Jonas set the horse off at a walk.
She ignored him and carried on walking but she soon heard his feet scuffing the road behind her.
"It's good stuff."
She quickened her pace.
"OK, what if I pay you? I'm sure you could do with a little pocket money."
Llewella turned to face him, still stepping backwards to maintain some distance between them. "I don't think I'm the flavour you're after, old man." And she spun on her heals to continue on her way. She would never have thought that being a girl would be her saving grace when it came to brushing off unwanted advances.
"Ah, well, with a sweet, round arse like that, I should have known."
He suddenly lunged at her, grabbing for her legs, sending them both face first into the ochre ground. Llewella got a face full of dirt, while the man fell on the backs of her legs and quickly scrabbled to start yanking at the waist of her trousers.
"Geroff!" she yelled, and then began to cough for the dust that she had inhaled.
Her belt-rope was not of the finest quality, and it gave way under the man's determined tugs. Llewella's efforts to right herself were thwarted as her legs continued to be yanked out from under her in the man's efforts to unwrap his prize. Her pants slipped, revealing the arse that the man had been admiring. He paused for a moment to grope the soft flesh. A short complaint issued from her assailant as the graze on Llewella's jaw healed itself. The distraction gave Llewella the pause she needed to swing an arm back at him, knocking him off her. He rallied quickly, though, and was on her again, holding her to the ground. He was not nearly as fine looking as the young man that had held her in the same position just minutes earlier, and she struggled more ferociously.
The man's hair was greying, and he wore it long. His chin was unshaved and his remaining teeth yellow. Llewella had never seen a nose as big as his. It wasn't wide or bulbous, in fact it was quite narrow, but it protruded from his face like a sheer mountain range. His breath was a mix of the rotting remnants of his previous meals and cheap whisky. He planted a wet, semi-toothy smooch over her lips, which she clamped shut against the onslaught.
"Get off me, you mangy mutt," Llewella muttered between clenched teeth after he disengaged his lips from hers, and tried to push him away, arms and legs working furiously.
For a fraction of a second, Llewella believed that he had decided to listen to her, as the weight of his body was lifted from her. Then, as arms looped under her armpits to help her regain her feet, she saw the same dark young man ramming the old man into a nearby wall as had done to her earlier. He was much more forceful with the old drunk. She turned her head and recognized the other young man. Alvaro. That was it.
She shook herself free of his, now relaxed, grasp and pulled her pants up. Alvaro was intent on watching Jonas plant several solid punches on the old man's jaw, so she supposed she had retained some dignity.
Just before the old man lost consciousness entirely, Jonas threw his limp body to the ground and turned to his friend and Llewella. He maintained a dark expression, despite his victory.
"You all right?" He asked as he approached Llewella.
"I'm fine." She dusted herself off. "Thanks all the same."
"Do you need us to drop you home?" Alvaro stepped in close and indicated the open wagon that, in the midst of the scuffle, Llewella had not heard pull up.
"I'm not going home." She didn't know exactly why she said it, other than the fact that she didn't really have a home meant that the statement was absolutely true. But she was also aware that seeing Kynas hauled away had alerted her to the imminent demise of her current lifestyle. She had an overwhelming desire to leave Cheer, and her life there, behind and these men were clearly from elsewhere. "Where are you two going?"
Alvaro's mouth opened to respond.
"We've got work to do." Jonas stated plainly, all regard for her safety falling from his expression.
Alvaro's mouth closed in disappointment and he scowled at Jonas's back as the moody young man stalked back to the cart.
"What sort of work?"
Again, Alvaro prepared to answer her.
"Work that is unsuitable for pick-pockets and whores." Jonas's voice floated back as he gathered up the long reins from the ground by the cart.
Llewella directed a scowl at him.
"That's not fair. You don't even know me."
"That's right. We don't. Come on, Alvaro."
Llewella turned a pleading look on Alvaro. He returned a sympathetic one, but then followed Jonas to the cart.
"Are you leaving Cheer?" Llewella followed Alvaro.
"Yes." Jonas swung up to the cart seat.
"Could I come with you?"
"No." Jonas gathered up the reins, determinedly ignoring her, while Alvaro was still climbing into the cart from the other side.
"Come on, Jonas." Llewella's heart leapt as the lighter-haired man finally piped up. "She might be fun to have along on the trip."
"Damn it, Alvaro! Don't you think one little girl is going to be enough of a handful? Yah!" He urged the carthorse into life, and it moved off at a walk.
Llewella walked alongside, just behind Jonas's field of vision. Alvaro must have caught a glimpse of her in his periphery, for he suddenly laughed and grinned at her.
Jonas turned to her, turned away again, and urged the horse into a trot. Llewella began to trot just behind the cart, hoping that he wouldn't go to a canter.
Alvaro kept looking back at her with is sparkling eyes, now and then saying something to his gruff companion.
Finally, Jonas reined in the horse. Llewella ran into the back of the suddenly still cart and leaned on it to catch her breath. Jonas jumped down off the cart, stalked the length of it and rounded on her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm coming with you."
Alvaro laughed. At his friend's exasperated expression, he said, "Come on Jonas. Give the kid a break. She's just trying to make a change." He swung down from the cart and joined them at the rear.
Reflex had Llewella saying "I ain't no kid," as she folded her arms and scowled at her supporter, who laughed.
"Stay out of it, Alvaro." Jonas muttered without shifting his eyes from staring down Llewella from under his lowered brow. Llewella took a breath and relaxed into looking back at him - not giving him the satisfaction of intimidating her. She began mentally preparing to stop blinking if this turned into a staring competition.
"You're not the boss, Jonas. Aris is."
"I'm his second, and he's not here."
"We could at least see what he has to say."
Jonas was quiet for a moment, apparently considering Alvaro's statement. He broke his glare to casually scan their surroundings as he spoke. "Look, we're heading a long ways out of Cheer. This job takes us back to Phyos," he looked back at her. "You been there?"
Llewella shook her head.
"It's all right, neither have I," Alvaro smiled.
Jonas rolled his eyes at his companion.
"It's not just a matter of taking a trip. We're doing a job. And when we finish it, on Phyos, we go our separate ways. If you came with us, you'd be on your own. No friends. No family. Are you ready for that?"
Llewella set her jaw in defiance and stated firmly, "Sure." It wasn't like she had a family anyway. And as for friends...
She held his gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly in counter-attack. She caught a hint of movement at the crease of his lips. He successfully suppressed the smile, or sneer, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Fine. You can come meet Aris. That's no guarantee that you'll be coming with us, though."
Llewella nodded her understanding and climbed into the back of the cart with the produce that the two men had bought in town, before there could be more hod-ups, grateful that she wouldn't have to run any farther. Jonas and Alvaro climbed up front again, and Jonas set the horse off at a walk.
