The Crooked Kind
Chapter 1
I used to think I was a good person, but good is subjective. As is evil. Now, I find myself somewhere in the middle, more like a mixture of getting by and knowing the right thing to do. Maybe I beat myself up too hard. Maybe. Nowadays it seems like everything is changing. Blues are stepping up, trying to clean up the rabble. They got Marci and her whole gang not two weeks ago. Word is the Blues are planting guys in our midst but we don’t give it much thought. By “we” I mean my people. We call ourselves the Company of Gifted Ordinaries. We’re not as pompous as that sounds I swear, we just have a flair for the dramatic.
My knee popped when I stood up, an old injury that healed badly. Normally it was fine, but today it was cold and the dull pain meant it would rain soon. From atop my perch I could see a large amount of the Bridgewater District. Mostly abandoned buildings and shacks built right on top of one another with the empty lot filled with beggars. At the forefront, standing larger than life overlooking the river was a large building. It was in this building where the ruling portion of the Bridgewater District resided. Our Company was a small outfit, we laid claim to a barren warehouse further down the river and tidied it up to our liking. Home sweet home.
People shambled down the streets, keeping to themselves and being careful not to bump into anyone. Never knew who was walking today. Leisurely I strolled to the ladder on my right and clambered down, dropping the last four feet with a grunt. Looking both ways to assure that I was in no immediate danger, I continued my stroll down the lane in no hurry. Around me the Cradle groaned as people were either stealing, killing, fucking, or plain surviving. It was not a pleasant place to reside.
The Cradle originated some years back, when the old King reigned. It was supposed to be a darling little gem for his young daughter, but something went wrong. One day the King got word of an insurrection, one of his top men had been passing around the word that he wanted the Cradle for himself. So naturally, the King rounded up his armies and marched into the Cradle to put a stop to it. However, the general, Valaesis, planned for this. Once a majority of the King’s men made it in, Valaesis sprung a trap, detonating several hundred barrels of Griger’s Breath. Turned out Valaesis miscalculated.
Not only did the King’s men die but so did half of Valaesis’ and half of the Cradle. Great gaping holes opened in the ground and were quickly filled with bodies and rubble. After the explosions stopped, Valaesis planned to pursue the King back into the city Perseverance, the capital of Ektor. The city got its name from the Forty Year War, King Kyalden held the city for eight years against siege. Some called it a fluke, most called it a miracle.
History books held a detailed account of the siege of Perseverance, of King Kyalden’s bravery. During the eight years that the Ektorian people hid inside, the armies of Baulza tried desperately to breach the walls. First they rained fire with their sorcerers, until they realize Kyalden’s were better. The sorcerers in the walls conjured a strong gust of wind and pushed the fire upon Baulzan troops. Kyalden then led a counter attack, storming from the gate on horseback with his men and striking while they were in panic before fleeing back into the city.
Not to be daunted, Baulza’s own King tried digging under the walls, collapse them and storm the city. But once again Kyalden’s sorcerers saved the day. Instead of finding soft dirt and hard rocks, they found thousands of venomous spiders. They poured from the earth and ran through the Baulzan army. Thousands died before the sorcery could be undone and still they surrounded the city.
It was six years into the siege when Baulzan army got through. With a clever ploy they were able to eliminate all but one of Kyalden’s sorcerers. With most of Kyalden’s magical might gone, Baulza’s sorcerers caused the earth to rise, giving their men a way into the city. They poured in and met Kyalden’s men. The fighting lasted two hours before Eskalozant, the last Ektorian Sorcerer in Perseverance, appeared and changed shape. He became a massive twenty foot spider with ten legs instead of eight. Its chitin was impenetrable by any blade. Baulza’s men were covered by web that was coated in an acidic poison that could burn through steel. Those that didn’t escape were slaughtered mercilessly. And so because of Eskalozant’s sorcery Perseverance was able to hold out two more years until Kyalden’s allies could return and destroy the Baulza army.
But enough of a history lesson, or rather that history lesson. Valaesis was unable to pursue the Old King as he couldn’t convince his men to climb over their dead friends. Instead, he barricaded the King’s Road and made himself a fine fortress there. He’s our self-declared “King of the Cradle”, though there isn’t not much to reign over except the dead and the dying.
It’s been sixteen years since that day, sixteen years of self-ruling and squabbling amongst ourselves. Now the Cradle is made up of nine districts, each controlled by an outfit who in turn serve Valaesis. In the center of these districts lied the core of the Cradle, where Valaesis and his men stayed. I and my people reside in the Bridgewater District, aptly named as the only standing bridge is there. We call it Big Sturdy on account that it survived the explosions. It’s the crossing for the river Treacherous Rill which leads into the sea one way and in the other direction connects us to Perseverance. Our side doesn’t have netting, so all the demons of the sea are free to swim through and all there is to say about that is I pity the man who falls in.
Despite our abundance of skill and success at the trade of unrighteousness, our outfit was not in charge of the Bridgewater District. That honor was reserved for Clam and his boys. We answered to Clam and pretended like we were happy with our low position and schemed in the shadows. It was in these shadows that we plotted to make Clam disappear and take over, it was the how that eluded us though. We’ve guts and stupidity aplenty, most would say it was foolish to challenge Clam. After all, out of the nine district bosses, he had the most men and a temper that outmatched all of them.
Nine districts with nine bosses, each one more conniving and rotten than the one before. But not a single one could match the Queen. The King died two years ago and with it, the peace between the Cradle and Perseverance. Queen Leilani, first of her name and stuck up bitch. Beautiful with a heart of stone. She wanted what was hers, what Valaesis had taken. So she started poking the Cradle, looking for chinks in our defenses, pushing men through when she could. It didn’t matter to her that we kept feeding them to the Treacherous Rill, she kept sending more.
A soft thud behind me drew out of my thoughts. I whirled, pulling a hidden six inch knife out of my sleeve and faced my attacker. I was expecting knives, instead I found myself face to face with a naked man grinning ear to ear. I lowered my weapon and returned the grin.
“Carmine, what are you doing out here showing the world your small prick?” My voice was friendly, Carmine was one of us.
The naked man made no effort to cover himself, in fact, he placed by hands on his hips and leaned back, pushing his groin out and drawing more attention to it. “As a matter of fact, I was just demonstrating the size and skill of my prick to two very lovely ladies.”
I asked, “then why are you down here with me?”
Carmine’s grin grew even wider and I guessed the answer. “In the middle of giving the world new meaning for them, one’s husband walked in, had to give him the slip.” He winked, “I think the sight of my manliness made him feel self-conscious about his own and he froze.”
“More like he was just thinking of who to kill first, you or his whore wife.” Despite his “the world is my toy” attitude Carmine was shivering. I removed my jacket and tossed it to him. “Put this on before you catch something.”
“Much obliged Arren.” He slipped the jacket on, luckily we were of similar size. “What cha up to?” he asked, falling into place beside me as he buttoned the jacket up.
“Just remembering. History has a funny way of making you feel something even if you weren’t present for it.” They’d mocked me for my fascination with the past at first, but now it’s become second nature. Aren and his books, in love with the dead and not quite forgotten.
We walked down street, catching a few looks on account of Carmine’s lack of pants. Foot traffic on the Cradle was usually busy, cold days like this though most people tend to stay inside. These were dangerous days, friends and foes would fight for the warmest spots. A lot of people died on these days. We actually passed two corpses on our way and from the sounds we heard, more were on the way.
“You hear the news?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t like the fact that Valaesis was calling a meeting of the nine. Especially not with all the activity we’ve been hearing. Usually we get two or three Blues a week and send them downriver, this past week we sent seven. “What do you think it means?”
Carmine pondered my question for a moment and shrugged. “Maybe old Valaesis is tired of sitting with his cock between his legs. I heard talk of Clam calling his men together. All of them.”
I swallowed. Usually a district boss only calls all his men when something big is happening; rival district boss trying to take our turf or us take theirs. With the signs we are having, that means one thing is coming; war. And Clam wants us to be a part of it. “When’s the call?”
“Tonight. In the Lady’s Temple.”
The Lady’s Temple was a place of worship. Where one goes to pray to the Silent Lady, Goddess of the Observer. Underneath the holy stones was where we conducted our business, under the watchful eye of the one deity that wouldn’t condemn us for our less than devout attendance. That means that all the nine bosses will be there, along with their retainers, Valaesis and his most loyal bruisers as well. Carmine and I didn’t make the cut to go. But Harril, our most bold leader would sure be in attendance, which means we’d get all the info regardless.
“Let’s get back and see what the plan is.” Our pace quickened. “My guess is you and I will get to sit around the fire twiddling our thumbs.”
Carmine grinned. “I’m certain I can find other things to do with my thumbs.”
I ignored the proposition. “Harril will have an idea of what’s going on. Even if he isn’t supposed to.” Seldom did anything slip by Harril. He was a spymaster and thief in every way. I’ve never met a man who could slip through the night with less noise or faster, a man who didn’t already know what the day would hold better. Nor have I met someone with more ambition.
“Harril is our shiny golden god, may we erect idols in his image and whisper his name before bed.” Carmine took on a cooing tone of voice, mocking my admiration of our leader. I knew he respected the man just as much as I, though he would never admit it. His ego would never allow him to praise another besides himself.
I punched him lightly in the arm, to which he responded by sweeping a leg across mine, effectively knocking me on my ass. He tried to take off but I managed to snatch a hold on one of his ankles and dragged him down to the ground with me. We rolled and tumbled in the street, passerby’s giving no more than a glance our way before continuing on. For a moment, Carmine got on top of me and pinned my arms above my head by the wrists. As he turned his attention to keeping me there, I slipped a knee underneath his legs, uncomfortably brushing across his groin, and then used all my strength to kick him off me. He landed on his back and quickly scrambled to his feet, only to be knocked back down.
Standing behind him was a woman who looked identical. This was Carmine’s sister, Camille. She had him on his knees with his long blonde locks in her hands. With the two of them in front of me, it was easy to tell their relations even if I hadn’t known them for several years. Carmine and Camille Fadenelle, two of the most deceitful and arrogant people I’d ever known. They were of average height, had the same long blonde hair, same ice blue eyes and even had the same posture and body movements. Beyond physical attributes they also shared the same mentally for childish pranks, sarcasm, troublemaking and above all the same insatiable sexual appetite. Neither could ever have enough, both have propositioned me several times. They weren’t picky on what kind of parts they played with so long as they got to play. There were even foul rumors that the two shared a bed on occasion.
“I’m hurt that I didn’t get an invitation.” She pulled her twin to his feet, kissed him on the cheek and then lightly kicked his bare ass. I sidestepped and grab Carmine by the arm to keep him from falling on his face. “Especially as often as I’ve been inviting you to join me Arren.”
Again I ignored the proposition. “No worries Camille, just because your dope of a brother showed me his, didn’t mean I showed him mine.” Sometimes I feel that sarcasm is the only thing holding my world together, keeping me sane. But when you’ve read the books I’ve read, knew the history that I know you tend to become dark and cynical.
Camille’s smirk grew even wider. “We both know you’ll say yes to me eventually.” She winked and then strode ahead of Carmine and I, intentionally swaying her hips. I averted my eyes.
“Get back here you bitch!” Carmine yelled, running after her. She too took off running, taunting her brother all the while. I continued my leisurely pace and chuckled. The Fadenelle twins were dear to me despite their habits of frustrating others.
The twins disappeared from my sight not long after, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I brooded, my mind trying to put meaning to the meeting tonight. If it was true and Valaesis was plotting to move against the Queen, there would be a lot to do. First and foremost we’d actually have to have an army, our ragtag group of bandits, thieves and bruisers wouldn’t do shit when facing the Queen’s forces. The Blues may not be great at blending in with our crowd, but they knew how to kill when the time came. The fact that they took down Marci’s operation in the Brightstone District was proof enough that we have been underestimating the Blues. I just couldn’t wrap my head around that though; how did they manage to get Marci and all her guys in one movement? There were really only three options. Either they had better informers than we thought, had an incredible strike of luck, or the worst option. One of us turned on Marci and gave her up. A chill ran down that spine, and not because of the cold dreary weather.
“Arren! Get your slow ass in here!”
A deep booming voice came out from an open window three buildings down. I recognized the voice as Rowe, another member of the Company. My pace did not increase, slowed if anything. I wouldn’t call it an issue of obeying authority, just a long-term streak being irritating. I truly had no problem obeying orders, usually when it was actually important for them to be followed. They would wait for me, though if I dawdled too long they’d send Rowe out to drag me inside. That was not a pleasant notion.
The door creaked as I entered the abandoned warehouse that we had renovated. Upon entering, one stood face to face with an actually ballistae. It was always kept loaded in case we had someone with dark intentions enter. Turning to the left I walked around the little walls that surrounded the siege weapon and entered the main room. It went all the way up to the ceiling, a spiral staircase surrounding the walls and giving access to multiple floors. The ground level housed the main room, the kitchen and dining room, our privy, armory, and Rowe’s room. Harril, Carmine and I have to hike one flight of stairs to get to first floor and our rooms. Also on that level was the library, though its main occupant was me. They often mocked me for falling asleep there, sometimes they even discussed moving my stuff in there and dividing my room up amongst themselves. For Camille and Val, it was two flights and their rooms were the only two on that level. The third floor was always kept locked and the whole level was actually one large room. And in that room lived Loz. Loz was strange in his own way. After the third level, the stairs only led to the roof where we actually had a lovely little garden. Often I visited it with a new book and spent hours lost in history or fiction.
Sitting at a table were three men; Rowe, Loz and Harril. Val sat on the stairs and the twins could be heard on the first floor, arguing about what clothes Carmine should be wearing. Harril stood as I entered and approached me, grinning. He was shorter than me and thinner too. His black locks were kept in a tightly woven braid as usual, giving his face a gaunt look which did nothing to take away from his dashing good looks. His shimmering silk tunic and contrasting dark trousers added to his charm. However, if you asked me, the only thing that kept him from being truly handsome was his eyes which always had a look of hunger.
“Arren, good to see nothing befall you this morning except for our endearing twins.” We hugged, the man was like a brother to me. I returned his grin when we parted.
“Good to be home. I’ll admit the cold still does this leg of mine no good.”
Harril shook his head. “I did tell you to go to a proper physician.”
“Aye that you did. But you know me.” I chuckled. “A pain in the ass, even to myself.”
“About time you got here, the Fadenelles returned ten minutes ago.” This speaker was Rowe. A large man, wearing dark leathers. Sitting he still looked intimidating. When he stood, he stood almost seven feet tall and could block a doorway with his mass. His shaved head and full dark beard gave him the look of man always brooding. But we knew this was an act. He was sweet as a newborn kitten, at least to us anyhow.
I turned to him “figured you needed a few more minutes to oil that pretty animal on your face.”
Rowe scowled. He was good at scowling. Loz shook as if he were laughing, though no sound escaped him. Loz was tall and skinny, not as tall as Rowe save for when he wore his ridiculous hat. It was old, musty and falling apart. Camille couldn’t sew the damn thing up without it ripping in some new and creative manner. Underneath the hat was the familiar mask that seemed to be permanent fixture glued to his face. It was a shiny bronze color, a long wicked beak protruded as if he were some sort of bird. Never once had any of us seen his face. More disturbing was that he never spoke, though one day he did sign that his tongue had been removed. Some of us doubted it.
There was breakfast on the table, nothing fancy. Simple oatcakes, slices of fruit, a plate of pork links, and most importantly a pitcher of warm coffee was what had caught my eye. I approached the table and poured myself a mug. I threw it down in a single gulp, paying no heed to the burning sensation as the sweet elixir of morning stiffness went down my throat. Thoroughly warm now, I turned my attention to the food, made myself a small plate piling oatcakes and fruit on it and took Harril’s seat.
Harril came back from the front door, checking that all the locks were in place. He saw that I had taken his seat and altered his course for the coach that rested against the wall of the ballistae room. “Alright everyone, it’s for business.” He motioned for Val to sit by him. “Carmine! Camille! Get your asses down here, I don’t care whose wearing what!”
There was a clatter that sounded an awful like a scuffle. We ignored it, the Fadenelles would be down in a second. Val stood up and stretched, exposing her midriff. She wore a lose fitting neutral colored tunic that concealed her curves. Her beautiful red hair was tied up in a hat as usual. Despite trying to disguise herself as a man, she was still radiant. She was taller than Harril which was a particular trait the Fadenelles used to abuse our leader usually till Val gave them one of her famous glares. She took a seat beside Harril who immediately wrapped an arm around her slim waist and pulled her in tight. They kissed in a way that lovers kiss when they haven’t seen one another for years. In all the darkness of the Cradle, their love for one another was a solid reminder that there are moments to live for.
Harril did not wait for the twins “I assume you all know what this meeting is about so I’ll keep it short. Tonight, Valaesis has called us all for an appearance. You all know what that means.” He let his words hang in the air, his face grim. “He means to strike at the Queen and be rid of her interference for good. I don’t know how exactly, only that it may be a long investment.”
At that moment, the Fadenelles made their entrance, bursting from Carmine’s room and leaping over the rail. Both landed on their feet, tucked into a roll and came up doing a handstand. They then walked on their hands up to Rowe and promptly fell into place one on each knee. Rowe’s scowl actually seemed to grow a scowl of its own. He made no effort to remove them from lap though.
Their arrival was wholly ignored. Harril continued. “The meeting will take place in the Lady’s Temple. Each boss will bring some retainers, those retainers will bring their men as well.”
This was where he would announce who would be coming with him to this meeting. Having that many dangerous and arrogant men and women in one room was bound to be trouble. Especially with such a volatile topic. Which means he would be bringing Rowe, our outfit’s muscle and the most fearsome man any of us had met. Val would likely be joining as well. She didn’t look like much which gave her another advantage in addition to being a highly skilled assassin. Any more than two and it would look like we expected foul play. Though each person in attendance expected foul play, none would openly declare that.
“Rowe and Arren, you two will be with me tonight, so rest up and eat heartily.” With that he turned and strode towards the stairs, leading Val by the hand as well. Everyone else turned to look at me and despite having poured myself a second mug of coffee, a chill ran down my spine. A single thought went through my head, which I then said aloud.
“Well shit.”
