Awakening: excerpt 1

         He turned Palarmis away from the gate and rode slowly back up the hill towards Raelin. It was a tiny village nestled in the shadow of the mountains just off of the forgotten path they had so recently traveled. It was the closest village, from the city, that had its own inn. By the time he had reached the borders of the township the sun had set and the fires were burning within the aged and decrepit wooden buildings.
 
         The stench of the town kept most of the proper folk away; the air reeked of piss, ale and rot. Derian covered his face with a cloth as he rode Palarmis through the streets. His steeds’ dark color still shone like a stars glow among the surrounding filth. Even Palarmis seemed to tread carefully, flaring his large nostrils in awareness as they entered the town.
 
         There were few decent folk who lived outside the walls of Circtis during these times and even fewer who spent time in Raelin. It was known for being full of crooks, beggars and rodents. All of that was true but it was also the home of Alric, Derians' connection.
 
         Alric was infamous for having an ear for business, meaning he usually knew where the jobs were for most every form of trade that was not taken care of between with the walls of any civilized city. He gave information to those who could pay for it without discrimination but he also had other dealings, business which Derian wanted no part in.
 
         Some said that Alric once sold out his own mothers' whereabouts to a headhunter for fifty bronze pieces. Of course, Alrics' mother was a known thief and used to trap wealthy men in her bedroom using a homemade mind dust. Luring them there with the promise of sex before kissing them with poisoned lips and claiming everything of any value as her own.
 
         Derian boarded Palarmis in the stable behind the only Inn in town, The Dirty Scoundrel. The stable boy was not much older than one of Ethel’s boys and promised to take good care of the stallion while Derian was inside. Once the horse was secure Derian stomped through the darkness and dried mud towards the Inn.
 
         It wasn’t cold outside but the innkeeper still lit a large fire in the stone fireplace along the outer wall. The light from its flames lit up a large front room. It was filled with long wooden tables, benches and a few men that sat eating, drinking or smoking. There were two doors behind the bar and a small dark staircase rising out of the smoke into darkness. Derians’ boots echoed on the wooden floor as he made his way through a small crowd towards the bar.
 
          “Alric around?” Derian asked in a gruff and deep voice that sounded dangerous even to his own ears.
 
         The innkeeper who had been wiping the filthy countertop looked up and squinted at Derian who still had a cloth tied around his face and the hood of his long, dark riding cloak pulled up, hiding most of his face.
 
          “Who’s asking?” The innkeeper asked curiously.
 
         Derian scowled at the man. “I’ve got a gold piece that says it doesn’t matter who I am.” The shiny gold flickered in the fire light and drew the attention of the handful of men in the room with them.
 
          “Get his ass out here or tell me where I can find him.” Derian added gruffly.
 
         The innkeeper looked him up and down assessing the danger.
 
          “He’s in back with the girls.” He said finally with a shrug.
 
         Derian ordered a drink before heading through one of the doors behind the bar, with the amber liquid in hand. It opened to a long hallway with no windows and a plank and dirt floor that led into a dark room draped with colorful fabrics and oil lamps and small round tables dotted here and there.
 
         There were a number of scantily clad women in various positions around the room, sitting on the laps of paying customers, parading themselves along the wall, drinking, smoking and screwing. In the center of the room was Alric with a petite, brown haired girl on his lap. She was giggling wildly and he was stuffing his hairy face into her bare and bountiful chest. Derian walked up to the couple and sat across from them sipping his whiskey patiently.
 
         When Alric came up for air he noticed Derian and cursed loudly.
 
          “Take the damn mask off man, what are you trying to do give me a fit?” Alric shouted as he squeezed a breast.
 
         Derian complied reluctantly lowering his hood and mask.
 
          “Alright, but only because you asked me nicely.” He said trying not to breath in the sweaty stench from the closed room.
 
          “I thought that was you Derian but I couldn’t be sure, you understand, so many coming to see me these days.” Alric said.
 
          “I expect that is so. War time always feeds the scavengers.”
 
          “Guess you’re here about a job?” Alric asked pushing the young lady off his lap and bending her over the table in one quick and fluid motion.
 
          “Same as always.” Derian answered, barely flinching as Alric flipped the girls’ skirts up and smacked her bare rear-end. The young, curvy girl gave a squeal, a strange mix of terror and delight.
 
         Derians’ senses were overwhelmed. He could feel Alrics’ excitement and malice as if it was his own and the young girls dread and desire as well. It all came at him and added to the other dull feelings he was picking up from the rest of the people in the room. It was difficult for him to sit there and pretend like nothing was wrong. Underneath all the uncomfortable emotions there was the awakening of Derians’ own craving.
 
         Alric grunted as he entered the girl and began to gratify himself.
 
          “Sure, sure.” The man said between thrusts. “Got word couple days ago ‘bout a possible job for you.” He continued, clutching the woman’s hips and the fabric of her skirts. He began to pant as he moved.
 
          “That right.” Derian said sipping his whiskey with a shaky hand. He was gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly, under the table, that his knuckles were bright white.
 
         He was not sure what brought his thoughts to Ealyn. In a place like this there was nothing he could compare to her. Maybe it was something the young woman was feeling, a sort of violation. Ealyn had been violated. What would have happened if he had not found her when he did? He could not think about that now. His craving was bringing another vision of her to mind, the time when she had been bathing in the brook.
 
         A, now familiar, heavy ache started in his trousers as he remembered her smooth back the color of fresh cream with her long black hair fanning out behind her in the water. She had been the visualization of his strange dreams. Dreams he had been having since they first met not so very long ago.
 
         The young girl squealed again and brought Derian out of his dreamy state.
 
          “Some rich lady in Glades is offering good coin for some kid.” Alric said between grunts as he pounded against the girls soft brown skin.
 
          “I don’t do kids, Alric.” Derian said, his disgust was beginning to show.
 
          “I didn’t say nothing about killing; she wants him alive for some reason.” Alric said, the words forced out like he was out of breath. “They said the kid stole a money purse from the ladies traveling bags and killed the horse wrangler before fleeing the city.”
 
          “Fine.” Derian said. He did not enjoy doing jobs for people of Glades, ever since his fathers death he had avoided the place as best he could but he needed work and it looked like this was all he was going to get from Alric at the moment.
 
          “The boys not much older than sixteen years they say, sandy hair and thin as a Birch tree, goes by the name Charlie.” Alric said. He finished his activities with a deep growl and shoved the girl away from the table ordering her to get him a drink with a swat on her backside.
 
         As Alric described the boy Derians’ knuckles grew whiter and whiter on the hilt of his sword. The boy in Siene! That kid didn’t look like he could kill a rabbit let alone a horse wrangler. He clenched his teeth and stood up abruptly.
 
         “Got it.” He said flipping a gold piece through the air towards where Alric was now seated and smoking.
 
          “What, that’s it? Not gonna stay for a drink? I’ll give you a go with Rita here, my treat.” Alric said squeezing the young ladies rear who was serving him a drink.
 
          “Not today.” Derian said barely hiding his grimace. Then he turned and walked back down the long hall, through the front room of the inn and towards the stables.
 
         He knew exactly where that kid was going to be, if someone didn’t get to him before Derian, that is. He tipped the stable boy a bronze piece and mounted Palarmis in silence. If he rode all night he still couldn’t make it to Ethels’ before sunset tomorrow, still he’d push as hard as he could. He patted the stallion on his wide muscular neck and whispered to him quietly before mounting with elegant grace. They sped out into the darkness together riding through the gloom like shadows.