Green Eyes
Chapter 24

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that,” the woman shopkeeper told Selene tightly. “And the carrots are one silver quarter.”

Selene sighed and handed over the small silver piece, taking the carrots. It was like this everywhere she went. Jared and Mara had sent her on an extended shopping trip to see what she could dig up on the Bats from the various shopkeepers. The people in Beth Haven were friendly, at least until she mentioned the Bats. Then everyone clammed up as if she had grown a pair of horns.

“Some Navi I am,” she muttered quietly to herself as she moved on to another store, a clothing shop. The twins had sent her on this mission to find out how involved the Bats were with the local businesses. But all she had gotten was an overabundance of groceries and a general sense that everyone knew who the Bats were and were terrified of them. That they already knew.

“I agree that is a lovely dress, but we would have to make some adjustments to fit your size,” an older man, maybe in his mid-40s though Selene had given up guessing people’s age, interrupted her thoughts.

Selene realized that she had been absently fingering a velvet blue dress with a low bodice and silver braided trim.

“It matches your pendant,” the man added. “An interesting design, by the way.”

Selene glanced down at the howling wolf around her neck, not unlike Jared’s ring. The sapphire jewel reminded Selene of the twins’ piercing eyes. If it wasn’t for the sentimental value, she would’ve given the necklace to Mara long ago; it certainly matched her eyes much better than Selene’s. Looking back at the dress, Selene thought that Mara would wear it very well. The deep blue of the fabric highlighted by the silver trim would really bring out her gorgeous eyes. And it was in her size too.

“Hmm,” Selene appraised the dress, trying to appear critical from underneath her low hood. “It is a beautiful dress, but I don’t think it’s for me,” she concluded.

“Oh,” the tailor’s face fell, but Selene held up her hand.

“But,” she continued, “I think it would look amazing on a friend of mine who is about this size.”

“Excellent,” the man beamed. “Is there anything else I can help you with or will this be all?”

“Actually there is,” Selene said, “though it has nothing to do with textiles.”

“Uh, I’m not sure I follow,” the tailor’s features narrowed into a confused scowl. “All I really do is make and sell clothes.”

“I need information,” Selene clarified. “And there will be an extra payment for it.”

“In that case, ask away,” he straightened up. “I certainly don’t know all the town gossip, but I do know a thing or two.”

“I need to know about the Bats,” Selene questioned.

“Uh, the Bats?” the man suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t know much about them. I’m just a tailor.”

“Have you had any dealings with them?” Selene pressed.

“No, never,” his eyes started darting back and forth. “I wouldn’t get mixed up with them. They’re bad news.”

“So I’ve heard,” Selene dryly remarked wondering if a bruise was forming on her forehead from banging her head repeatedly against this wall. “But do you know of anyone who has?”

“Why do you want to know?” sweat was beading the man’s brow. “They’re dangerous. If you keep asking questions about them, you’ll get yourself killed. Leave them alone and pray they leave you alone. Now do you want the dress or not?”

“Yes, I’ll take the dress,” Selene answered as her shoulders slumped. Another dead end.

Then it happened again. As she looked at the man, images started flickering in front of her face. They were fuzzy and disjointed, not making any sense at all, but she thought she could see the face of a man holding a knife to the storekeeper’s throat. It was only there for a moment and then the image was gone.

“Are you alright, miss?” the man asked when he returned with the dress wrapped.

“Yeah,” Selene pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted hard. “It’s just been a long day.”

“So it would seem,” the tailor looked past her to the small mountain of groceries she had accumulated throughout the day. “Here’s your dress. It’s one gold piece.”

“No problem,” Selene tried to blink away the headache and produced the coin from the small purse Jared had lent her.

“Take it easy,” he suggested exchanging the coin for the dress. “In fact, I’ll have my assistant help you.”

“I’ve got—” Selene started to say.

The assistant came out from the back. He looked like anything but a tailor’s helper. The man was young, about Selene’s age, and tall, well over six-foot. His hair was cut close to his scalp and he was well-muscled. There was an evil glint in his dark brown eyes. But most importantly, he looked almost identical to the man Selene saw in the fuzzy image.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, accepting the help. The man picked up one of Selene’s baskets and led the way out into the street.

“I’m Reuben,” he introduced as they walked up the road. “I’m curious, why are you so interested in the Bats?”

“What makes you say that?” Selene dodged a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

“I overheard you asking Phineas,” he referred to the tailor. “Why the interest? Most people try to pretend they don’t exist.”

“I’m new in town,” Selene wished one of the twins was here to deal with this. They were so much better at avoiding the truth. “I’ve heard they’re the ones in charge here and I’m just curious as to what they’re like.”

“They work from behind the scenes,” Reuben supplied. “And they don’t like people poking their nose into their business.”

“Do you know them?” Selene suppressed the worry and jumped at her opportunity. This guy was apparently going to answer her questions.

“No,” Reuben shook his head, “just by reputation.” Reuben’s face flickered yellow for a brief moment, causing Selene to blink.

“Where are you staying?” Reuben questioned, breaking into her thoughts.

“Oh, at the Rose Tattoo,” she answered automatically.

“That’s a rough place for a pretty girl like you,” he commented idly. “A couple acquaintances of mine died there yesterday.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Selene put as much false sympathy into her voice as she could. A couple of acquaintances? Surely that couldn’t mean the same people she and the twins had killed the previous day.

Suddenly another image filled her vision. Although most of it was out of focus, Selene clearly saw Reuben sharing a drink with the person Mara had killed and the guy she had fried. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the vision vanished, leaving Selene confused and with a growing headache.

“Can I interest you in staying at my place?” offered Reuben. “It’ll be much more comfortable than the inn.”

At first it seemed like a kind offer, but there was something very off about this guy. He gave Selene the creeps. And she wasn’t about to trust anyone in this town except for Jared, Mara, and Jael.

“No, thank you,” she declined as politely as possible. “My companions wouldn’t like that and we wouldn’t want to impose.”

“As you wish,” Reuben nodded. “Here,” he gestured to an alleyway. “I know a short cut to the Tattoo. After you.”

Selene automatically turned down the alley ahead of Reuben and immediately her heart sank. It was a dead end. Turning around, she saw Reuben standing behind her, a long knife in his hand.

“It is a pity since you are such a lovely girl,” Reuben commented laconically. “But I’m afraid we can’t have you poking around the Bats.”

Instinctively she reached for her sword, only to remember that she had idiotically left it in the inn. Fear welled up in her like a spring, threatening to overwhelm Selene with panic as Reuben stalked towards her. Taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she dropped into the Form I stance. Jared had trained her to take care of herself and now was the time to see if all that training had done any good.

Reuben seemed amused by her defensive posture, chuckling a little as he playfully tossed the weapon from hand to hand. When he got within range, he feinted to his left before lunging at her.

Jared and Mara’s merciless training paid off. Selene saw right through the move, gently deflecting the knife away with the back of her hand before twisting into Reuben. She then drove her left elbow into his ribcage as hard as she possibly could.

Reuben grunted as the impact of her elbow bruised his internal organs. Selene wasted no time reaching up behind her, grasping the thug around the back of his neck, and then flipping him over her. He landed with a thud and a gasp as the air was forced out of his lungs.

Selene started to run when she heard him stagger to his feet. Turning around, she saw her assailant straighten up and glare at her.

“That really hurt, you little bitch,” he snarled as he started running towards her.

Panic pounded in that back of Selene’s head. She was unarmed and this guy could take a lot more hits before really slowing down. Selene doubted that she could outrun him, even without the groceries slowing her down. But she did have one ace up her sleeve: she was a Navi. Reaching out with her hand, she tapped into her power and released a jet of flame.

Only nothing happened.

Not again, she thought as she retreated another couple of steps from Reuben.

The fear continued to build as hopelessness began to consume her. Her power had been her last resort and that was now gone.

Your power flows from your emotions, she suddenly recalled Jared telling her the night she’d blown a crater in the ground. She’d learned that night that fire boiled from her anger and if fire came from anger, then maybe…

She stopped fighting against the fear building inside her. Instead she released it and then grabbed hold of it, channeling it into an energy that coursed through her arm and shot out of her outstretched hand.

The temperature suddenly dropped dozens of degrees. Reuben’s movements slowed down as his skin began to turn blue and then white as frost began to form. Around him the damp air began to suddenly condense into water and then to ice, encasing him. His knife came to a stop inches from her nose.

Selene exhaled a massive sigh of relief. She didn’t know if he was dead or just frozen and wasn’t going to stick around to find out. But she had given herself enough time to get away which was what she needed. Quickly scooping up her belongings, the Navi stepped back out into the street and started for the inn.

*******

“Those are some fine looking animals,” a tanner, Simon, patted the black horse on its white blaze. “Who’d you steal them from?” he joked.

“The Kalashonian Cavalry,” Mara replied nonchalantly.

The tanner chuckled nervously, not sure if she was joking or not. “Well, wherever you got them from, you clearly have an eye for animals,” he went back to the horse, scratching its nose. “What do you need? Saddles obviously, but what else?”

“We’re going through the Harosheth on our way to Esther,” Mara answered. “So we need large saddlebags and our saddles need to be designed for extensive travel.”

“So light for easy use, but also designed for attachments for things like saddlebags, bedding, and such,” Simon eyes dilated as he began mentally designing the saddles. “Yeah, I think I know what you need.”

“Good,” Mara said. “How soon can you get them finished?”

“What kind of a time budget am I on?” questioned the tanner.

“We are planning to leave by the end of the week, so three days at most,” Mara answered. “But we would like to have them in two.”

“Two days,” Simon scratched his wiry beard. “That is a bit of a rush job, so it’ll cost you extra.”

“That is not a worry,” Mara waved off. “How long do you need the horses? They need to get reshod before we leave and the sooner we get that done, the better.”

“Understandable,” the tanner quickly examined the hooves. They were loose and skewed with a couple nails missing here and there. “I’ll need to measure them, of course, but that shouldn’t take too long. And I’ll need them early tomorrow afternoon to see how the saddles fit and what adjustments I need to make.”

“Fair enough,” Mara calculated their schedule. The timing should be good enough and this gave her a chance to kill two birds with one stone. In addition to getting the horses ready for the trek through the Harosheth, she could get some in-depth investigation on the Bats.

“Mind if I stick around until the horses are ready to go?” she requested as sweetly as she could.

“Sure, always glad for the company,” Simon nodded. He was in his mid-40s, single Mara guessed, attractive in a messy sort of way. Laugh lines creased his face telling Mara that this was a pretty easy-going gentleman that got lonely from time to time, which made him the perfect target for squeezing out information.

“Since I’m new here,” she started off as Simon broke out his tape measures and pencils and paper, “mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Not at all,” he answered with a strip of leather in his mouth. “I just may take a minute or two to answer. What do you want to know?”

“I’ve heard about this group called the Bats,” she sweetly asked. “Who are they?”

Simon froze as she posed the question. “Why would you want to know about them?” he returned with a question.

“Like I said, I’ve heard about them,” Mara said with a shrug. “They seem like they’re the ones who call the shots around here and so I figured I should find out about them.”

“They call the shots alright,” Simon snorted. “They practically control the soldiers!”

“Really?” Mara sounded surprised. “They have that much power? I have been here a couple of days and I haven’t seen them.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Simon replied. “The Bats are a nasty bunch.”

“What do they do?”

“It’s hard to define,” Simon paused his task for a moment and looked pensive. “In a sense, they own everybody and in a sense, they don’t.”

“Huh?” Mara cocked her head.

“Well,” Simon scratched his chin. “While they have their own tax of roughly 15% of weekly profits just to remind everyone that they’re the boss, but for the most part they leave you alone. But when the Bats show up at your door, you give them whatever they want, no questions asked.”

“And if you don’t?” Mara queried.

“Bad things happen, really bad things,” Simon answered. “They’ll kill you and take it anyway. And that’s the real thing about the Bats that is so infuriating and at the same time terrifying: they can do whatever they want and nobody can do anything about it. They can stab you in the middle of the city square and walk away without any consequences. Not even the army will stand up to them.”

“How do they have that kind of power?” Mara wondered.

“I don’t know,” Simon went back to measuring the horses’ girth. “I’ve only been here for six years. It’s kind of ironic, actually. I moved from Sandhill because I got tired of the army taking whatever they wanted from me and came here because I knew the garrison was small. I guess that’s the problem with this country; no matter where you go, someone is going to take advantage of honest, hardworking guys like me. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I remember when Josiah was king,” he went on. “I thought things were tough then and they were; we were falling apart economically. I mean a third of the country it seemed was reduced to beggars. So when Manasseh became king, I was excited. I thought everything was going to get better.”

The tanner shook his head. “In a way, it did,” he said. “All those unemployed got off the streets alright; off the streets and right into the army. Or these gangs. And it was like they were given a carte blanche, you know? They can do whatever they want and we’re supposed to just accept it. The rest of us normal people are right back to where we were twenty years ago.

“It’s times like this that I wish Prince Nathaniel and Princess Hadassah hadn’t been killed,” he sighed. “They would’ve known what to do. They were special, those two. And they actually cared about us, you know?” he looked at Mara. “I remember hearing about how they were working on freeing the people of Beth Isaac from Lord Jasper’s control. They didn’t have to do that; Jasper’s family had controlled Beth Isaac for half a century and pretty much everyone had accepted it. But they knew it was wrong and started to fix it, no matter how unpopular it made them with the nobility. Now that takes real strength and dedication. Kalashon might’ve actually been the kingdom the Creator intended if they ruled.”

“The past is the past,” Mara cut into his soliloquy a little sharper than she intended.

“Right, of course,” Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry; you were wondering about the Bats and I went off on a tangent. To answer your question, no, I don’t know how they got such a strangle hold on the local garrison; just that it has turned the local commander, a lieutenant colonel I think, into the Bats personal dancing ape.”

“Do you know who the leader is?” Mara pressed.

“No,” Simon negatively replied. “And I don’t want to know either. That’s really what you need to know about the Bats: stay out of their way as much as you can, give them what they want when they want, and don’t ask too many questions. They’re not fond of people prying into their business. But if you do that, then you’ll get along fairly well here.

“Beth Haven isn’t a bad city,” he added. “It’s actually pretty peaceful, for the most part. We don’t get as much traffic as we used to because merchants prefer the River and the Bats tend to scare them off. But the people are friendly and hospitable, so travelers like yourself are welcome here. The city is called Beth Haven for a reason; it’s the last stop before the Harosheth or the first place out. Either way, it’s a great place to stop and recharge before the next leg of your journey.”

“What do the Bats take from you?” Mara asked.

“Not much,” the tanner shrugged as he made some notes on his paper. “Just the 15% tax every week and a detailed list of my costumers.”

“Why would they want that?” Mara queried. It struck her as a rather odd demand.

“Beats me, but I’m not about to argue with them,” Simon scrutinized over his designs and comparing them with the animals. “Like I said, when it comes to the Bats, the best way to deal with them is to do what they say and not ask questions.” He paused to make another few notes. “The basic rule is this: the less you know, the better.”

“Gotcha,” Mara nodded.

That, she knew, was the last bit of useful information she was going to get out of the tanner. It was more than she had hoped for, but it still left her with more questions than answers. How does a band of street thugs get leverage over soldiers? The garrison wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination, only five cohorts strong which was surprisingly small for a city of 10,000 inhabitants, but still that should be more than enough to deal with an upstart gang. No, it was something else, some sort of hold over the officers. But what? And how?

Then there was the strange requirement of detailed customer lists. What was up with that? This wasn’t the first craftsman that had to give the Bats such a list. So far, the Bats had seemed like your basic racketeering bunch: shaking down local business for what they could and severely punishing those that didn’t cooperate. She was sure they were into other stuff like smuggling and prostitution, but Mara hadn’t seen any real evidence of that. So how did customer information fit into that? Or did it?

Mara shook her head in frustration. There was a randomness to what they did. It made it difficult establishing a motive or an aim or pattern. Was it political power? Money? Or something else entirely? Mara couldn’t be sure.

She must have spaced out because Simon had to clear his throat rather loudly to get her attention.

“Sorry to disturb your meditation, but I’m done with your horses,” he informed. “You probably want to take them to the smithy’s now.”

“Right, thanks,” Mara nodded. “Thanks for the saddles and for giving me the heads up about the Bats.”

“Hey, no problem,” Simon shrugged his shoulders. “And good luck with them. Just remember, cooperate and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, I will,” Mara lied. She fully intended to bury the bastards. She may not have agreed with them taking on this mission, but she wasn’t about to fail either. Besides, these guys were starting to get on her nerves.

*******

“Hey there good-looking, you look lonely. Want me to keep you company?” a young woman propositioned.

“No,” Jared declined, taking another long drink of his water.

“No?” the girl looked confused; clearly she wasn’t used to being turned down. “What’s the matter? Don’t like women?”

“I like women fine,” Jared coldly responded. “I just have no interest in sharing a bed with you.”

“Why?” the working girl asked. “You’re not married, I can tell that much. Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

Jared took a moment to appraise her. She was certainly pretty. Maybe a couple of years younger than Selene, the girl had a thin waist with a nicely rounded rear and firm, perky breasts. That her dress showed off her selling points didn’t hurt either. She had auburn hair with chocolate brown eyes that her heavy eyeliner made sparkle, though the mercenary could see an immense emptiness behind them. Her job, if one could call it that, was consuming her soul and for that, Jared pitied her.

“You are pretty,” Jared admitted. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I have a strict policy about not having sex with strangers.”

“Then let’s get to know each other,” she offered, pulling up a chair. “Tell me about yourself: where you from? Where are you going? What are you doing here? How long are you here for?”

Jared narrowed his eyes, something he knew had no effect as the prostitute across from him couldn’t see them. It wasn’t even supper time yet, but this was the fifth working girl that had offered her services to him, something Jared found odd for a menagerie of reasons. His clothing was certainly not of high quality. He didn’t drink any alcohol. He sat alone, removed from everyone else. He wasn’t particularly handsome and even if he was, the robes he wore obscured even his face. There were far more promising targets in the taverns he had visited, yet the girls seemed to be seeking him out.

Then there were the questions she was asking. It was under the guise of wanting to get to know him, but there was something off about her questions. He noted that she didn’t ask his name, just focused on his business. Jared also found it interesting that she didn’t volunteer any information either. Odd, very odd.

The other prostitutes had been similar. Although they were dressed to seduce, they seemed more interested in talking and getting to know their clients. That was highly unusual; most of the working girls Jared had observed over the years kept the exchange as impersonal and businesslike as possible. Sure they put effort into seduction and Jared had no doubt that they put forth their best efforts behind closed doors, but they didn’t get personal with their clients. It was a business transaction, no more, no less.

Bringing his attention back to the girl in front of him, he stood to leave. This was getting uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m just not interested tonight.”

“Please,” the woman begged, grabbing his arm. “I need this. You’d be doing me a favor and I promise you won’t regret it. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Almost imperceptibly, she glanced away from him to someone else. Jared followed her gaze, not to the innkeeper as expected, but another person who was sitting alone. He was an older man, late 40s probably, and he seemed to be studying them intently. Suddenly this got very interesting.

“Alright,” he consented.

“Thank you; you won’t regret this,” she looked genuinely relieved. “Follow me.”

Grabbing him by the hand, she led him out of the common room and up a flight of wooden stairs to a wing of the inn that was reserved for these activities. A half dozen rooms lined the small hallway; rooms, Jared noted with irritation, that were not soundproof. Coming up to the middle one, the girl took a key from around her neck and opened it, leading them into a small room with a single bed in the middle.

“Now what do you want to start with?” she asked, beginning to undo her bodice.

“How about with whom you work for and why your colleagues are so interested in me?” Jared demanded.

The prostitute spun around and found Jared’s steel blade inches from her neck. With a squeak of surprise, she froze.

“Sit,” Jared commanded. “And keep your clothes on.”

Obediently the girl sat down on the bed, keeping her eyes fixed on the lethal point hover just above her jugular.

“Who do you work for?” Jared repeated his first question.

“I work for the inn,” she responded in a small voice.

“For a whore, you’re not a very good liar,” Jared gently pressed the tip of his sword against her neck. “You obviously don’t work for the inn, at least not directly. You work for that man in the corner. Who is he? A member of the Bats?”

Jared knew he had hit the bullseye when he saw the color drain from her face. “How did you know that?” she whispered.

“I pay attention,” Jared answered. “Do the Bats run all the prostitution in the city?”

“I think so,” she quavered. “At least I don’t know of any that they don’t own.”

“How does it work?” Jared inquired.

“If they see a pretty girl, then they force her or her family to pay them to keep her safe,” she explained. “If the family can’t, then the Bats force the girl to work for them as a prostitute.”

“I take it that is what happened to you,” Jared guessed. She nodded mutely. It didn’t surprise Jared; brothels had been getting employees for centuries by preying on desperate women. The Bats simply took it a step further and created the desperation.

“Why are you and your coworkers so interested in me?” he interrogated. “You were the fifth girl to proposition me and it isn’t even suppertime yet. Why?”

“We’re just doing what we’re told,” she replied.

“And what exactly were you told?” Jared demanded continuing to brandish his sword.

“Our overseer comes to us every now and then and tells us to bed a certain individual,” she explained. “Usually he’s someone new to Beth Haven. After we bed him, we’re supposed to report in detail to our overseer everything we learn about the man.”

“Which would explain why you were asking me all those questions,” Jared commented more to himself than her. “And I am one of the Bats targets?”

“Yes,” she nodded demurely. “Asher, our supervisor, told us to look for you and to seduce you. Whoever did would get a big reward.”

“What does he want with me?” Jared asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “He wouldn’t tell us; just that he wanted us to sleep with you and tell him everything we could about you.”

Jared considered that. A thought was beginning form at the back of his mind but he needed more information before it could fully take shape. He needed to consult with Mara to be sure, but Jared was starting to get the idea that the Bats were much more than just street thugs.

He was done here, though; this woman had no more information to give. So he sheathed his blade and turned towards the door.

“That’s it?” she questioned. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You’ve given me what I need and now I have work to do,” Jared flatly responded.

“But you can’t just leave me!” she protested. “I have nothing to give Asher; I don’t even know your name.”

“Pity,” Jared indifferently replied.

“Do you know what he’ll do with me when he finds out I failed?” she grabbed the edge of his cloak, trying to hold him there.

Given her look of pure desperation, Jared had no doubt that it would be some painful and grisly end. Part of him did actually pity her; she hadn’t asked for this life and had never been given a choice. She was merely trying to survive in an unforgiving world, something Jared could relate to.

But he couldn’t help, at least not yet. They weren’t ready to confront the Bats and if he went around trying to put out little brush fires, then he’d never take care of the real problem. Jared was already a target as it was and he couldn’t afford to make himself any more visible.

“I suggest you learn how to lie,” he advised her, yanking his black cloak out of her grasp. “Perhaps this will assuage your master’s anger,” he added, tossing a pair of gold coins at her. He then opened the door and strode out.

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