Valkyrie of Desire

36. Boss In A Straw Hat

Doubt all emotions from a wise teacher

Lies spill even from a mouth bound by oaths

Never accept a conflicting contract

Serve only when the mission's end is clear

Disdain may dust an advocate's coffin

But their pure spirit will be free from guilt

—Alesour Innhuman

Wearing a burlap cape and a piss-stained tunic, a kneeling man beseeches Hildr with open hands. He has the stench of a drunk and the slouch of a failure, but his eyes hold hope. She wrinkles her nose and frowns. Why is this beggar blocking the side-street to her home?

Feet stomp in unison behind her. Soldiers. She sidesteps, and two men wearing the split-stump city guard symbol march past her to halt in front of the broken man.

The smaller of the two says, "Get up, sir."

Scratching his bushy black beard, the man shakes his head.

The bigger guard says, "Check him for a brand."

Hildr turns the corner onto her street. She may have agreed to protect this city, but that did not mean getting involved in every little thing.

"I can't, my ankle!" The beggar sobs.

Hildr winces and walks on to where a couple of elder women are glaring at each other in front of her landlord's townhouse. They look like sisters. One has a wide build and the fat to match, and the other is wire-thin, but they both have the same white curly hair and liver-spotted skin.

"Do you ladies live on this row?" Hildr tips her straw hat.

The thin one crosses her arms. "What's it to ya?"

Hildr points down the row of homes. "I live second from the end."

The fat one says, "Oh. Are ya Baelu's auntie?"

"She calls me that, but I am merely a friend of the family. Call me Hell'Gina Fatetamer. Who are you, ladies?"

"I'm Muffin, and my rude sister is Patsie." She rubs her puffy cheeks. "You've been such a blessing for Baelu and her family."

Patsie rolls her eyes at her sister. "Always into other people's business when ya can't deal with your own."

Muffin pulls a long loaf of bread from a bag hanging from her shoulder and hands it to Hildr. "Thank ya for saving sweet Baelu from Mr Hudgebucket. We were so worried he was going to do the unspeakable."

Hildr rests the loaf on her shoulder and points at the landlord's open window. "Aren't you worried he can hear us?"

Patsie says, "Not home."

Muffin nods. "We've been waiting all morning. It's odd he left his window open. We could—"

Patsie slaps her sister's arm. "We will not. Nosy folk get noses cut off."

Hildr forces a chuckle. Meepsin must have done it—bullet stone cracking the monstrous landlord's skull. She has an alibi, and now these ladies as witnesses. Good, but it could get better.

"I saw a beggar at the corner." Hildr thumbs over her shoulder. "The city watch was harassing him and mentioned a 'brand.' What's that about?"

Patsie sneers. "Filthy refugee, covered in lice and disease."

"Oh hush." Muffin frowns. "He's a nice man that had bad things happen to him."

"And if ya didn't feed him, he wouldn't have hung around to get the vagabond brand. Now he's gonna get drift-logged."