Too Early

VIII

City of Flames - 1

Sarah awoke with a start, the pile driver behind her eyes kicked into overdrive the moment she became aware of her surroundings. Bright shards of light cut through the dingy window like daggers, sending her diving back under the covers for refuge.

She ached everywhere and she could tell that there was more than two people in the bed with her, but the thing that bothered her most was the clinking of bottles when she shifted. She didn't drink for a reason, that she had was probably a sign that she had been wallowing again. Unhealthy, Sarah, very unhealthy.

No more unhealthy than dreaming about drowning, though.

Tessarie's voice blared through the din and shook Sarah to the core. "Good morning!"

Sarah curled into a ball under the blankets and plugged her ears. Remotely, she heard herself groan, "please, no yelling."

"I'm not!" She screamed. Sarah groaned out again. Gods, how could she be so damned chipper first thing in the morning. "Sarah, you told--"

"Stop," Sarah thrust her hand out from under the blankets. "Just. . . Give me a moment."

"Oh. . . " There was a small pause. "O- All right."

"Water?"

"Sure. Are we--"

"Water." Sarah tucked the covers over her eyes to create a blindfold. "No talk. Just water." She waited until the young elf left the room before she rolled over to check on the other occupants of the bed; both were men, attractive, young, but hardly memorable. It explained the soreness, but one of them looked like they should have been downstairs guarding the house in case Scarface's group tried to pay a visit.

Sarah sighed. "Bollocks."

A man's voice murmured in the back of her mind. "The trials and tribulations of horny old women, huh?" The voice made her ache all the more. It had that heavy northern lint to it, deep and warm and wholly understated in its power. Ithric. "Come on, Sestra-tay. It's time to get up."

She was too hung over to deal with ghosts. Even if they only existed in her mind. There were plans to make; plans to unmake the mistakes of the past and, if she was right, plans to appease a goddess who would welcome them all into Her embrace when they were all blasted into dirt. The lucky ones would be burned alive, crushed or eaten-- but Sarah? Sarah wouldn't be one of the lucky ones.

The result, however, would be the same.

To the vast majority of the people who had shown up in light of the Goddess's manifestation, they had all been given a holy quest to stop a great evil. With a little careful manipulation on Sarah's part and Keiter's fervent preaching, they had started the group on their way to Desrol. Let the heros lead the way, she figured.

"Sarah?" Tessarie whispered. "Sarah, it is time to get up."

"Mgh." She rubbed her eyes. "Hardly." Getting up meant having to face reality, though. In reality, you ignored a God's demand-- however politely it was phrased-- at your own peril. Gods be damned, though, she wasn't ready to die; heros did that kind of crap. She wasn't even a servant of Isira, why should she run off to fill her grave so early. "I'm not that old. . ." She grumbled to no one in particular.

"As you say, but you asked me to rouse you after high-noon." Tessarie said softly. "We are nearly into the early evening," she paused for a long moment. "You promised you would tell me how my brother is doing."

Sarah braved the bright light, shading her eyes against the throbbing agony that lanced her skull. Tessarie was wearing a modest peasant dress much too big for her with a hand full of fabric bundled up around her slender arm. The glass of water in her other hand was trembling a little as she looked on. "What's wrong dear?" Sarah hauled herself up and took the glass.

The small elf sucked air through her teeth and rocked forward on her feet, causing her modest chest to press against the tan fabric of the dress. Sarah found herself watching the movement thoughtfully, smirking. She was a pleasant image first thing in the morning. "I just. . . I want to know about him. Why did he send you?"

Sarah took a long drink, trying to dredge through her memories of the night before. Muddled by a lingering haze of alcohol and the pungent smell of sex, she couldn't think of much of anything. She glanced at the two men beside her with a frown. Was it that bad that it wasn't memorable? Gods, what had she done last night? She downed the rest of the water. "Well. . ." She decided to start her fabrication like any good story should start. "You see, what happened was--"

A window somewhere else on the second floor broke. Then another. The women exchanged a look just as a silhouette darkened the room's window from outside. Sarah pointed to it as she threw her glass down and dived out of bed. Tessarie could fend for herself, so far as she was concerned. Mages tended to be pretty sharp on the draw.

The young elf looked back at the window with a blank expression. She hesitated. At once, the window burst inwards sending shards of glass and wood frame in every direction. A man's bulk replaced the window.

Tessarie scuttled back out of the way as the men in bed stirred. Sarah grabbed the nearest bottle and threw it at the intruder, looking around the piles of clothes for her pistol. If this was a divine reminder of her 'quest', she was going to have to have a talk with Keiter and try to commune with Isira again. She wasn't a patsy, not even for a goddess.

Something was wrong, though. Something was very wrong. The man wore black leathers and carried several blades, a set of shackles dangled from his belt. He ducked the bottles easily and lunged towards Sarah.

The not-so-nimble half-elf scrambled over the bed, ignoring the groans of the men who's stomachs she accidentally pressed on as she went. One of them grabbed her foot by reflex and she tumbled off the bed awkwardly. Tessarie was backed up in the corner by a second man in leathers and the first one was marching towards Sarah, surefooted as a mountain goat. Confident he had gotten what he was after.

"Wake up!" Sarah flailed. Shoved off against the bed. The man in leathers drew a blade and started to kneel down on her when her hand smacked into something hard and metal amidst the discarded clothes. Just as she wrapped her right hand around the familiar curve of her flintlock, the man in leathers dropped down to a knee beside her. He drew a blade and reached for her throat.

Sarah grabbed for his hand ineffectually as the man bore down on her. "Zxhoo wants to see you."

"Let me check my schedule--" She was no match for his strength but she just needed a second. "Wake up!" She kicked one of the men in the ribs which got an immediately vulgar response. The intruder looked up briefly as Sarah freed her left foot from the grip of last night's lover, slamming it forward into the intruder's temple.

He baulked, pivoting to the side and giving Sarah enough room to maneuver. She ducked away, raised her pistol and got out of his reach in one smooth motion.

"Let her go!" Sarah forced power she didn't believe into her voice. In elven she added, "Put them to sleep!"

"I- I can't!" The girl stammered.

So much for mages being prepared for anything, Sarah mused. Acutely aware of her nudity and only distantly of the slamming headache between her ears, she leveled the barrel of her pistol at the nearer man.

Last night's entertainment was half crawling out of bed when the man in leathers hunched down, lowering his blade. Both men assessed the situation quickly and the younger of them-- the one Sarah had hired to guard the temple in the first place-- muttered something. He was just about to reach for his clothes when the intruder grabbed him by the throat and raised a tiny dagger to his jugular.

He and Sarah stared at one another. Neither flinched. Sarah slid her thumb to the hammer and cocked it back all the way. She never kept it ready to fire, for fear something would set it off. Most people didn't know that, though. She swallowed, trying to find the bead sight on the end of the barrel.

The men were only a man's height away but without her glasses, they may as well have been a full league. "This doesn't have to end in blood." The man in leathers said. "We just want you." He pressed the blade to the young man's throat hard enough to draw a sliver off crimson.

Something downstairs crashed. A sharp woosh of divine energy crackled through the air like a cold snap. Sarah sucked in a sharp breath. It had to have been Keiter. There was some commotion in one of the other rooms as people started to wake and fight back. Even though the gypsy troop had left yesterday, there were still a couple dozen people in the temple, many of them fighters in one form or another.

As she tried to puzzle out how to leverage that information, the other man that had been in bed lunged at the intruder and the young guard. The intruder didn't hesitate to drive his dagger into his hostage's throat, spraying his would be savior with a bright red spray of blood. The three of them tumbled into a heap as the new combatant fought with the man in leathers for control of the situation.

Sarah raised her pistol towards the elf and second intruder. "Let the girl go or--" she stopped when she saw Tessarie throw her hands out to defend herself against the man's advance. A crackle of energy lit the air and in the space of a second the men in the room dropped on the spot. Tessarie grabbed the arms of her dress and backed into the corner, sobbing.

Everyone had different ways of dealing with stress but this was hardly the time to break down. They could do that later, when there wasn't a chance they'd get a random knife in the back. Sarah scooped up her clothes and stepped over the pile of men. She tip toed around the spreading pool of blood with a slight inward wince. The kid was too young to have died like this. She couldn't do anything to help him, though.

It wasn't her fault, she promised herself. She couldn't channel healing energy, that was hardly her fault. Her god was one of creation and invention, not bloody healing. She clenched her jaw yet again, deliberately looking away from the corpse. She threw her shirt on and managed to snake into her trousers before the men started to stir. The one nearest Tessarie was the fastest of the bunch and he was getting his mental footing even faster than Sarah was prepared for.

She lunged over the man and grabbed Tessarie out of the corner, "Come on!"

"B- B-"

Sarah padded over the men even as they began to stir, yanking the small elf along as she made for the door. "It would seem there'll be no room service this morning!" she yanked the girl hard when she tried to stop-- "Focus, dear." She firmed her voice, meeting her eyes. "Focus on my voice. We'll get out of this, I need your help, though."

She blinked a couple of times and nodded meekly. "Good, this way, then." Sarah cracked the door and peeked. There were clothes strewn about the semi-circle of the second floor landing and a few empty bottles. The doors to the other rooms were closed and nothing moved. "Off we go."

As far as escapes went, it wasn't the worst she was ever going to make; all she needed to do was collect Keiter and they could be on their way.

She got as far as the railing when she saw six guards barging in the front door. Short swords at the ready.

They looked up at her and saw the pistol. One of the guards shouted and pointed at her. Sarah spun on her heel, knowing better than to try to explain herself. She grabbed Tessarie's hand when the girl tried to stall. The two of them plowed into one of the men in leather that had broken into the room and Sarah kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. "Sorry about this!" She swept in with her pistol trained on the other man in leather and motioned him toward the door. "Be a dear and block the door for me, would you?"

"W--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Sarah tutted, ushering Tessarie towards the missing window, "I have the gun, dear and at this range I could not possibly miss. . ." That was a blatant lie, of course, but the young man seemed to take her word for it. As the spry little elf hauled herself through the broken window and on to the tiled overhang, Sarah corralled the would be kidnapper towards the door so he could put his weight against it.

In the hall, the guards were crashing through doors and more sounds of combat were echoing through the wooden building. It was only a second before an axe head broke through the door paneling, causing the kidnapper to flinch away. Sarah tutted, glancing back briefly to ensure Tessarie had gotten clear. She moved towards the door with her pistol unwavering. "Keep your hands on the door, now, it'd be a shame for my finger to slip for want of a simple misunderstanding."

He glared at her. Sarah climbed out as best she could. The tiles were warm against her bare feet but she was barely aware of it. Her mind was swimming with scenarios-- one of her contingency plans had to have applied to this, she was sure.

None of her contingencies involved keeping others alive, though.

There was a tight alley between the temple and the merchant guild building next door. As Tessarie lead them across the tiles towards the back of the house, Sarah caught a brief glimpse of a reflection in the second floor window. Two men in plate armor were running towards the front of the temple, swords already at the low ready. They were knights. They had to be.

They would've killed Keiter without thinking about it-- temple or not, priest or not, kobolds were kill on sight. Her heart clenched. Kobold or not, he was still a friend. Sarah stopped, looked back.

The kidnappers were climbing out of the window to catch up to her. If she didn't stop them, he was going to be killed.

She wasn't a hero, gods dammit.

"Sarah?!" Tessarie whined.

She looked to the elf. Then back. The kidnappers had halved the distance to her. Sarah clenched her jaw, raised her pistol. She wasn't a hero.

She wasn't a hero.