Starblighted - Book 01 of the Shattered Six Chronicles

04 THE HOODED LADY

A Pit opened with a low grumble as another summer evening begun. Jalth sat cross-legged atop a barrel, his cheek resting on a fist he propped on his knee, watching the translucent, multi-coloured steam escape from the Pit's grassy lips. Crickets hummed from pastures that surrounded the Six Arms, and the summer heat brushed sweat across his brow. For most people, the quarries were just another unusual wonder of nature. But for the young tavern worker, they were fascinating. Reubem had told him how they began appearing after the Descent, opening, and closing at various locations across Eldorvant's five kingdoms once a moon. For this reason, Jalth would make sure he had his tea-break at the time the Pit near the waystation would appear. It would only remain open for a day or so, but that was more than enough for Jalth; he loved watching them open. He had once considered of descending one, curious to see how deep they went. But Reubem had warned against it, saying they were bottomless, and that it'd take hundreds of years before anyone knew what rested at a Pit's base.

Someday, Jalth released a sigh, I'll find out what's down there.

"Boy!" Reubem called out from the waystation, "Get in 'ere! We got customers who are waitin' for their ale!"

Jalth groaned and took one last look at the Pit before heading inside.

The Six Arms roared with hearty laughter, clinking of ale tankards, and shuffling bodies. Tobacco and body odour hugged the wooden walls and furniture, whilst a small band played from the waystation's corner, with the lively songs from the tavern's musicians penetrating the bubble of conversations and laughter. Jalth carried a tray of empty tankards, squeezing past merchants and farmers. Some of those he passed grunted at him or gave him a dismissive wave, but never bothered too much with the young lad. Reubem was in good standing with the majority of those who visited and stayed at the Six Arms, which meant some measure of safety for Jalth...at least that's what he hoped.

Great, Jalth thought, as he felt spilt ale cling to his shoes. He never understood how grown men could miss their mouths when drinking; then again, he never understood much of the things that grownups did. As Jalth shuffled past a portly merchant, he found himself standing before a hooded figure stepping inside. Two men, with their armoured bodies concealed under their cloaks, accompanied the figure. He noticed the Stormshaws' sigil, which was branded across the mens' chest.

Soldiers? They must be from Melune...Jalth realised, his eyes returning from the two men and to the figure in front of him. The figure's face was a woman's, soft and pretty, and was half-hidden under her cloak's hood. She stood proud amongst the rowdy mass of men, and the hilt of her castillon blade protruded from within her cloak. Awed, Jalth halted, gawking at the mysterious woman.

The hooded woman's lips formed a smile that pointed down at him. "Do you reckon you could fetch a drink for my friends and me?" She said. Although gentle, her voice carried an air of authority that expected obedience rather than questioning.

Jalth, still gawking, nodded, and turned towards the bar counter in a rush, his mind solely focused on the woman's half-hidden face. Within a few breaths, Jalth returned with ale to the three hooded visitors, who had found seats in one of the tavern's corners. Jalth's eyes were quick to find the woman, his cheeks warming and rising atop a soft grin.

"Thank you," the woman reached into her pocket and flicked him a gold coin, "For you."
With excitement rattling inside, Jalth nodded at the woman with a beaming face before scuttling off into the swamp of jolly drinkers. Sneaking by the bar counter's side, Jalth held the gold coin in both hands, eyeing it with glee.

"It must be worth at least a hundred shallens, if not more!" He tucked the gold coin into his pocket, patting it just to make sure it was still there. It was rare that customers gave him tips. Most of the tips that were made went to Reubem if not to the older girls who worked by the bar, and sometimes upstairs, though what sort of work they did upstairs remained a mystery to him.

I'll save this for a special occasion! Jalth reflected, still buzzing with excitement over the fact he was given what he knew to be a generous tip from a very pretty woman. He tried to look over to the woman and her friends, but grunted at a couple of gruff farmers who blocked his view.

Pox, get out of the way! Jalth scrambled onto an empty stall he found near the bar, balancing himself as he got a better view of the pretty visitor. But then his face creased as he saw four men approach the woman, Lustbell Rebels? The four men, like most of the customers, looked gruff and working class, but unlike most of the customers, held tougher demeanours. Jalth could see that the two hooded soldiers had stiffened, whilst the woman remained poised. With all the conversations ringing all around him, Jalth struggled to hear of their exchange. But after the sudden punch that the woman gave to one of the rough men, he understood the conversation was an unsavoury one. Jalth watched with stunned eyes as the man the woman punched dropped to the ground. His peers unexpected of the sudden blow, the woman turned on the closest one and swung a fist, catching the side of his jaw, and sending him rolling back into a group of drinkers. The two soldiers withdrew their swords and pursued the other two men, whilst the woman knocked down a drunk farmer who grew furious at the drink the scuffle had spilled. Soon, fighting infected the Six Arms, wooden furniture cracking, fists and boots whipping through the air. Men fell, men got up, men roared, and one or two continued drinking. Jalth hid himself behind the bar counter with the three girls who worked behind it, in fear of being crushed by the violent shuffling bodies.

But amongst the havoc, a female voice boomed through the tavern. "In the name of the Queen, stop this madness, or I'll have you all stripped and beaten if not hanged!" 

Everyone at this fell silent. Peeping over the bar counter, Jalth saw the woman standing over a man, her sword aimed at his throat. The man held his hands up in surrender, quivering. 

How could a woman have so much power over so many men? He thought. Reubem couldn't even accomplish such a thing within a few breaths, like the way this woman had. Jalth saw the two soldiers return, wiping blood from their swords. The woman snicked the cheek of the man she had at the mercy of her blade, and made her way to where she was sitting, bringing her tankard to her lips, drinking until she had finished her drink.

"Looks like we've overstayed our welcome," she turned to the two soldiers, and pointed at the man on the floor. "Ten lashes, then we leave...we have business to tend to." The man on the floor yelped as the two soldiers dragged him out of the Six Arms. The hooded woman, placing her tankard down on the table, followed, shoulders straight, head high, face still half concealed. But Jalth knew she had found him amongst the dirtied terrain of stunned faces, for she nodded at him with a grin, and left.

"Wrath-spice...I'm in love." Jalth uttered.