Dragon S Layers Ch 28

Volume 4: Dereliction of Duty

Chapter IV: The Empty Jail

Sarah stood in front of the makeshift jail behind Sheriff Cosnu's home, pondering how far she might be able to get without showing her pistol. She could have broken down the wheel inside and filed it down to some form of pick if she had time to do so- the ramrod was too expensive to risk damaging, but of course one had to ask what one's freedom was really worth. The young paladin with his hand on her shoulder gave her a gentle nudge forward as she and Keiter disembarked from the carriage.

It was a stomach churning truism that one's perception of events could be horribly mangled by the concept of status. In some regards the idea of getting over on someone of higher status made monsters of the disenfranchised, on the other side of it one might be more inclined to bend a knee. So far Sarah hadn't found the paladin's penchant, but she was willing to bet on the later of the two.

"Young man, I think you greatly overestimate the position in which you find yourself." Sarah shrugged off his second attempt to coddle her along and grabbed her coat. The long canvas draped to her ankles and concealed her pistol, along with a fair bit of gold should she need to run. That it was also weatherproof and lined with cotton made it perfectly acceptable for wearing on the trail, should it come to that.

Just as the paladin was about to attempt another push, Tessarie emerged from the carriage and took her place at their side. "If she goes, I go."

The young man stared at her blankly. What came out of his mouth made Sarah turn away to hide her smirk. "You've done nothing wrong, miss." It was so contrite, but endearing. Genuine idealism wasn't something Sarah had seen in some time.

"You don't understand. She saved my life. . ." She eyes Keiter dubiously. "And his. . ."

"It's a kobold-"

"And you're a human." Keiter said sharply. "One of us has the blessing of their goddess. Speaks for itself, I think. Do you,

paladin

?"

Sarah snapped her gaze at her friend, brow knitting in concern at the sudden outburst. When he met her gaze there was a flicker of righteous anger in those eyes, a kind of pride she had never felt in her own patron and a need to defend the honor of a higher being. Keiter huffed and looked away. "Too many died for us to act this way." With that said he flipped up the hood on his robe and turned away.

"Get back here, creature-" the man started after him at the same time Sarah just happened to start walking forward. He tripped and dived into a roll, on his feet in a split second with combat reflexes; his gaze on her was anything but friendly. She smiled. "I'll deal with you in a minute."

"No, I don't think you will." Sheriff Cosnu's lumbering form took up the doorway to the jail, he waddled towards the group. "Oi! Get back here, runt."

Keiter stopped mid step and sighed a hiss.

"Did he just. . ." The old man started.

Sarah quickly shuffled the conversation to brighter topics. "I trust my paperwork is in order, dear? As it always has been?" She smiled as she outstretched her hand for it, noticing it was a bit lighter than when she'd given it- five gold well spent. "Capital. Now, if you'd be so kind as to direct us to the nearest inn, I believe my company and I have-"

Caldion was staring between them in disbelief. She gave him a quick glance and fought back the urge to be smug. "Sheriff-"

"Not so fast."

"Hm?" Sarah looked to the overweight sheriff.

"He trusted you, doesn't mean I have to. You keep your boots clean here or I'll put you in irons myself, '

Ambassador

'.

"Think nothing of the sort! I cannot imagine why anyone would besmirch the wonderful visage of this. . . Homely hamlet, no dear, if anything I seek only to improve it-"

"Just keep outta my way, if I have to listen to another father telling me about how is kid was deflowered before she was ready for marriage, I'm gonna find a shallow hole for you. Best behavior. Got it?"

Sarah waved dismissively, she was beyond listening any more and she gave Caldion a look that showed her disapproval. He was mirroring her look for entirely different reasons. They eyed one another as the sheriff made his way back to his house. Caldion started to speak but Sarah cut him off. "That was very uncouth, young man."

He scoffed. "Let me guess, you paid him off. You think all your problems can be solved with coin? Even race traitors know better than that."

"She's not-"

"Goading is the lowest form of discourse, and a woefully inadequate use of your otherwise soothing voice, my dear boy. No, think of me as someone who understands the value of my own resources and more than that, my friends." She leaned towards Tessarie. "Be a dear and keep an eye on Keiter, so he's not hurt?"

The small elf looked at Sarah pleadingly, uneasy right from the start with the request. Finally she sighed and quietly trundled off, hugging her ill-fitting dress to her body. When she was gone, Sarah looked to the paladin and pouted her lips in mock thought. She was already planning their real escape, she already knew what palms would need greasing to get a reliable caravan ride somewhere safe. The only thing that needed to be figured out- and quite soon- was whom she would be taking.

"Don't think I'm letting you out of my sight," Caldion said.

Sarah blew her breath into her bangs. "I suppose it would not be the first time I've bathed with a man, come then! Let's-"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Where's your sense of adventure, hm? Surely a strapping young man like you knows there are many uses for one's hands," She eased into his space just a little, making a show glancing at his hands and then slowly looking up over her glasses. "Especially ones so perfectly sized to a multitude of tasks."

There was a split second where the young paladin actually seemed to be taken in; he eyed her, wanting to believe she was genuinely interested in him- not far from the truth, really- but then just like that he backed up and shook his head. His chestnut gaze tracked her with a subtle irritation like a sibling scolding the other. After several seconds of consideration he sighed. He had the look of wanting to say something but he didn't, instead he watched her for several more seconds into an uncomfortable silence.

One he was all too ready to let linger on.

Sarah turned without a word herself and started towards the mayor's house. It might not have been a bad idea to have someone mascaraing as a body guard. "If you intend to follow me, you can at least put on a consolatory air. Or do I do you a disservice in thinking that below you?" She gave him a smile she was too tired to really feel. He fell in beside her and at a slight distance.

"Is that what you're going to do? Pretend you care enough to get in someone's pants and bribe your way out of here?"

'Points for acuity, young man.'

Sarah mused to herself as she adjusted her coat and righted her posture as best she could. Despite being a little dirty, she still looked fairly presentable in her minds' eye. Anything else could be faked, of course. "Don't be ridiculous. That would make me something of a monster, wouldn't it? The man and I had disagreements, surely, but I held great respect for him."

The paladin scoffed.

"Come now. . . If you're going to insist on acting childish, I will not waste either of our time troubling you with the duties of being an adult! The coach awaits you as do its horses-"

"Which are stolen-"

"From a noble who knows nothing of valuing the possessions he has." Of course his death was largely to blame for that but Sarah left that part out. She adopted a more serious tone. "He will be compensated in due time, I'm sure, but greater need and all that, hm?"

"That's not how the law works. You're a liar and a thief-"

"Young man-"

"Paladin."

Sarah's right eye twitched. She used a firmer tone instead. "Caldion."

The larger man spared her an expectant look. She was too tired for this, but giving in to her baser desire to just throw a tantrum and curl up into a ball under a mountain of blankets was not going to do her long term survival any good. The world was full of scary places and things and this was just another.

As was the company she kept, regrettably. At least the boy was keeping up with her, flexibility would get them both farther.

Slowly she took a deep breath to center herself. "I am a great many things, but none of them include being heartless or so obstinate that I would not pay proper respects to a friend- further to that point, I would like to remind you that it's only because of us you weren't horribly butchered along

with

us. You may find this hard to believe, but I have very high standards for the people I associate myself with."

She expected him to scoff or offer rebuttal, but instead he walked with her in silence until they reached the mayor's abode. A candle flickered in the second floor window and the door, so deeply set in the building one could fit three people side by side from the lip of the overhang to the door itself, was cracked open. A potentially dangerous eastern custom- Sarah frowned as she knocked on the frame.

"Why is it open?" Caldion peeked in the crack as best he could without being nosy.

Seemed she wasn't the only westerner. "They say it's so that traces of the soul can leave the house to join the rest."

"Oh. . ."

Another knock.

Eventually a young woman opened the door, upon seeing Sarah she slammed it closed.

Caldion didn't even miss a beat. "I bet that doesn't happen often."

"The answer may surprise you." Sarah gave a knock. "Dear, I'm here to pay my respects! Nothing more! Your father was a good man, and-"

"Get out of here! You brought this on us! You and your Nightshade!"

Sarah pouted her lips. The paladin was eying her again as if he might decide to just beat her head in and call the matter done. "That's not at all true- A woeful superstition spread by those who've no idea what they're talking about. Gold is gold, not even high clerics can-"

"Get out of here!"

Sarah opened her mouth but Caldion was knocking on the door before she could get anything out. "I'm sorry to interrupt, miss, but may I speak?"

There was a pause. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Caldion. . . I would like to offer my consolation. Upon Alaecon's name, if there is anything I might do for you and yours, I offer it freely."

It was a brave thing to invoke a god's name if one wasn't ready to face the consequences, even more so if the person doing so was trying to present themselves as something they weren't. If he wasn't a paladin, he'd surely have burst into flames or something. That confirmation was as relieving as it was disconcerting. Sarah heard the latch before the girl opened the door and peeked up at him. "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Then kill her. Before my brothers do."

"Now see here-"

"Shut up, Sarah." Caldion looked to the girl. "I don't think Alaecon would appreciate my taking a life without due cause. Perhaps you would tell me of her crimes? Maybe we can find a middle ground."

The girl scoffed. "She's a dragon bringer! She brought the dragon's assassins here! Her and her Nightshade!" In seconds she was thrusting a playing card into his hands. "See?! It has his name on it!" Sarah peeked when the boy turned it over. Her heart dropped into her stomach the moment she saw the ace of diamonds with Baccus's name on it. Caldion spent more time than strictly necessary looking at the runes that spelled out the man's fate.

'Power belongs to the strong, Baccus'

Sarah turned away, covering her mouth and looking around at the shadows encroaching on the small hamlet. She was overcome with a strange urge to bite onto her palm to jostle herself awake. Surely this had to be a dream! No series of events was this damned convoluted and interconnected, was it?

Was it possible that her would-be assassin was going around killing forms of civil leadership and nobility? Sorash was locked down because of the actions of the killer- and presumably others, including Sarah by extension- perhaps there was something to it. . .

"I'll be at the inn. . ." Sarah muttered as she wandered off towards the carriage. They had a short lead on the would be killer, they could maximize that advantage if they knew what they had to look for- some semblance of the killers' motivation. Perhaps some plan could be devised by which she could do something.

Sarah made her way back to the carriage and started rummaging through the main compartment. She produced her silver slab lighter and pressed the handle on the side into the receiver. A soft whirring sound vibrated the little slab in her palm, signaling it was ready. She touched her rolled up 'paperwork' to the circular hot plate and waited for it to ignite. Bathed in the soft glow, she searched through the carriage again and- much to her dismay- found a playing card laying beside a splotch of blood under one of the benches.

Her hand trembled a little as she turned it over. She already knew what she would find, but some part of her had hoped against hope that it wouldn't be an ace of diamonds. But as expected, the blood red diamonds on the card glittered in the muted light leaving no question as to whom it belonged to. The message on this card was much more unusual. . .

'Beware the mind that thinks itself clever.'

Was it a warning or a taunt? Sarah tapped the card to her chin as she fought to steady her breath. From what she remembered of the assassin's actions against the noble who'd owned her new carriage, the man was under heavy guard and the assassin had attacked him anyway. . . She leaned against the inside wall of the carriage. But why? It wasn't just about skill- she was certainly up to the task in the end- but it was personal.

She was proving a point.

Sarah clenched her teeth as she looked at the card; it had the same flourishes, the same firm trenches for certain lines and softness for others. They were written by the same person. She thumped her skull against the carriage wall and sighed. "Well. . ."

It had to have happened sooner or later. There were only so many places in the world to hide and even fewer that accepted gold as currency. She hadn't gone far enough east, she hadn't made the right deals for her survival and now the dragon's agent had caught up with her to collect what was his. It wasn't going to stop until she was dead, and if she was

really

fortunate, it would just be her life that was taken.

She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. Just the numb realization that nothing she did from this moment forward would save her. She was marked and like the others, she too would die. The last twenty years had been a waste of time, the bargains and cajoling and lies? For nothing. . . She was no safer now than that first night she she'd arrived back on the shores beneath her lighthouse.

Sarah hugged her knees to her chest, rested her chin atop them and sighed. There was a certain romanticism to the entire idea, actually. A lowly mortal conned a dragon out of vast sums of coin and survived to tell the tale for decades. Yes, a damn fine tale to tell. . . It didn't bring back Ithric or Lostariel, but there was a legacy there.

A legacy. . .

Was this really how it was going to end? With her feeling sorry for herself? She looked at the card again, considering.

Was this really how she wanted to die?

Was this what her family would have wanted?

Of course not. They would want to be alive and healthy. . . They didn't have that choice, though. Sarah did. But would-

could

she make it?

She was Sarah-bloody-Kettar, gods dammit. An Engineer, last in a great line of elven blooded prodigies- Why the hell couldn't she? Damn the tears welling up at her eyes. She could do this. She

deserved

to live.

No one heard her whisper the word, 'yes.' Before she flicked the card under the bench and got up. There was more than one way to get out of a noose, even if it was a dragon's claw.

#

Sarah entered the caravan coaster shortly after midnight, pretending to be a new worker. She'd stolen someone's freshly washed blouse and wore her old one as a bandana to protect her hair and her coat tied around her waist like a heavy tunic. Admittedly not much of a disguise but it seemed to work. She was quickly ushered in by harried managers who were too busy complaining about schedules to ask why an elven blooded person would stoop to this kind of menial labor, they didn't even question her when she asked for the lowest duty in most coasters- that of shoveling the manure from the stables.

They didn't question and no one seemed to pay her any attention as she strode between the tangled mess of sweaty humans and dirty animals who's combined shouting, bargaining and cursing from strained backs made it impossible to hear oneself think. To them Sarah was invisible. As it needed to be.

She went looking through the stalls for a familiar marker belonging to a nondescript merchant company, eventually finding it in one of the last stalls. A tired looking horse chuffed at her when she peeked in, but she found who she was really there for. "My good man, have you change for a gold silvet? A mere one hundred feathers worth."

An older man with a pot belly looked up from his book, his heavy brow and sloped forehead betrayed keenly intelligent eyes and a willful skepticism that made him seem more dangerous than a honed blade. Upon hearing the line, though, his skepticism turned to curiosity. "A hundred feathers isn't a silvet's value, but if you try McCraine's stall, he'll sort you out."

"I see, and which stall would-" he pointed across the way. "My thanks, good man."

"Mhm."

Sarah turned. Stopped. Her heart caught.

A chesty girl in travel pants and a plain blouse was talking to one of the stable hands with a white horse in tow. Felicia. The poor girl. . . .Her deep caramel skin was as flawless as the moment Sarah had first seen it and yet there was something different in her expression- as if she'd somehow grown up in the course of two days since she'd last seen her. More to the point, what the hell was she doing here?

Gods only knew what Felicia would want; perhaps justice for filling out a bad mortgage, perhaps something more. Whatever the case, it didn't pay to be caught. Not so close to escaping.

Sarah was too far to listen in on their conversation, but from what she could see, the girl was negotiating for a stall rental and feed for her horse. Thinking it better not to be seen, Sarah ducked out of sight. In so doing, she burned her only contact in the coaster- the man would surely think she was trying to hide from something that could endanger their smuggling operations- but she wouldn't be exposing herself to the girl.

When the girl was gone, Sarah went to check the stall she'd been directed to only to find it empty. She'd definitely burned that bridge. It couldn't be helped, she promised herself. The last thing she needed was Felicia running around trying to have her arrested or something.

Instead of lingering on it, she turned to leave, shedding her disguise and putting her coat on properly with the collar turned up. It was only one avenue. There were others. She'd written contingency plans for a reason, after all.

As she slipped out of the coaster as anonymously as she'd entered, a creeping suspicion gnawed at the back of her mind; if Felicia had known where to find her, surely that meant someone had told her. None of her companions had known of her plans until the very end and single farm girls didn't just come out to Laleah to take in the sight. . . .