Burial of hearts the black widow's malice (14 page)

BOOK: Burial of hearts the black widow's malice
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“So, how can I
help you Avis?
”.

I stepped closer
to him, lowering my voice, so none around could hear the words I spoke.

“Hecate asked
for my city pass earlier and I only survived by the skin of my teeth as I do
not have one. I am not sure if there is anything you can do? But you were my
first thought, as I have grown to trust you”.

“I am
certainly
the right person to come to, I have a good friend, Natrok, who owns a bookstore
close by, hidden away in a side street; he is a master calligrapher, able to
copy a document to perfected standards; well at least to a standard that is
convincing. I do not think this is going to dry and I have to take my mother to
get some medicine, so let us make a day out of it, if that is ok?”.

“That will be nice, what is wrong
with your mother?
”.

“Nothing much, she is just complaining
that her legs are swollen; I do not see what she is talking about, but it is
easier just to appease her than hear the same subject
all day long
”.

We walked through the main centre
of the city, down into a petite street “Henson Road”. Holding back on breathing
in as best as I could. It was unlike everywhere else I had visited in the city,
reserved only for the poorest of souls among us. The streets were unclear,
piles of manure were left to be trod upon. The occasional dog would take an
interest but quickly fled after fully inhaling the unusual perfume. I often had
to stoop in order to avoid the women throwing out buckets of filth, which quite
repulsively mixed with the paths to make a sludgy mess, which gurgled with each
step.

Further along the street, were a
family, seemingly without a
home.
They had crafted a
small shelter among the filth, made from a few planks of putrid wood and a
large torn piece of fabric to give a covering. They were skeletal in form; in
this world, without a home or a job, food was hard to come by. The woman held
onto her baby, her eyes lost in a hopeless reality; you could see all that she
wanted was to help her child as she begged passers-by for coin; her own
wellbeing did not matter, she would give her last breath so that her child
could live on.

She had lowered her head as we
reached them, the child crying as flies hovered upon his eyelids; the father
was fast asleep, producing small earthquakes with each breath he took.

“Excuse me, what is your name?
”.
I said as I crouched down, not wishing to appear as to be
looking down upon her as every other had.

“Jane”. Is all she said, as she
lifted her head
up.

“Here Jane, look after your
family and never give up hope,
ever
”.

I handed five hundred coin to her.
Tears swept away the dirt upon her face and she leapt up to hold me tight
within her arms; although the smell was somewhat undesirable, I returned the
hug, hope is what I held onto and now I had given someone else that feeling
back.

We walked on, the cries of
happiness and the endless praises were warming to the heart. A couple of guards
stood close by to where we were heading; in passing, they made profuse remarks
to Camerine’s mother.

“I love a good bit of aged meat”.
Said one of the guards; but she ignored them as we walked in to see the
medicine man.


Afternoon
Camerine, it
has been a long time, how are you? How is the family? Any news on the book?
”.

We were greeted by a tall, fresh
faced man, wearing a clean-cut white suit and holding onto a threatening
looking walking cane.

“We are very good. No I am afraid
there is no news on the book. This is my friend Avis and my mother of course”.


Shame
, so how can I help
you today?
”.

“Well, mother is complaining
about her leg, I do not see what is wrong but… ”.

Camerine’s mother interrupted.

“It is clearly swollen, I say; I
do not know how you cannot see it”.

“Ok then Mrs Dorton, let me have
a closer look at you, just pull up your skirt so I can examine you”.

“Do not get any funny ideas; I
know what you
men
are like”. She chuckled, as a love-swept youngster, as
she lifted up her skirt.

“I see… on closer inspection, it
is a fraction larger than the other leg, I do not think anything is wrong, but
just to be on the safe side, I will give you treatment”.

Stanford walked into the back of
his shop, all the time talking to us about possible new cures for the outbreak
of disease in the city.

“I think I have just the thing”.
He said.

“Let me guess, leeches?
”.

“Camerine, you must have mystical
powers;
every time
you guess it right, you should work for the city
psychic”.

Stanford opened up a moss-laden
jar, reaching in and placing four hungry leeches upon her leg.

“Now, do not worry, they
will
not
bite, wait… yes they will”. He said jokingly to Mrs Dorton.

“Can you not just use magick?
”.
I said perplexed to why he was using such rudimentary
methods in a city as magickal as this.

“No, I prefer tradition;
plus
anyway, have you not seen my shop, there are so many magick items in here, I
could slay the gods; I just wished to use something different”.

“Different? You use this
every
time”. Camerine laughed.

“Best to stick to what you know,
I say; now these need to be on for around… twenty minutes”.

Cameron and I wondered about the
shop, looking at all the bizarre items for health and magick he had collected.
All of his items were in jars with neat parchments affront of them. Rat eyes,
light air, water from the forbidden lake, grounded hog tooth; these were the
items of a practising wizard, even the most dumbfounded of persons could see
that.

I moved around the corner,
surveying every item as I passed by, some vomit inducing, some placed from a
fairytale into a small jar. I looked upon the parchment of one of the labels
‘live spirits’ well that is somewhat of a contradiction, if I have ever seen
one.

“Ok, that should be just about
enough, how do you feel?
”.

Standing up, Mrs Dorton looked
down at her leg.

“Now the other one looks
bigger
;
I will come back tomorrow I suppose, see what else you can do… ”.

We walked out of the shop, Camerine
nodding his head, with a half-smile upon his face.

“There she is again; look at
those
fine
legs, I bet she could keep me warm in winter”. Said the same
guard as before, laughing along with the other guard.

“Maybe we can have you for the
winter feast, they always need a large bird for the centrepiece”. Said the
other.

We merely ignored them and
continued up the path to the bookstore.

“Natrok, how are you?
”.
Camerine approached and gave him a masculine hug, no more
than two seconds, so as to avoid any signs of femininity; heavens forbid that
would transpire. He was quite similar to Camerine, being a Panotti. His ears
hung low around his body, not quite the look I would wish upon myself, but good
in winter I suppose; they would keep you warm.

“I am mighty well, how about
yourself? I hear your business is going well, have you managed to get many
clients on the books?
”.

“The maid service is good thank
you; I need a small favour from you; this is Avis, she is in need of a
genuine
city pass, if you get my gist”.

“An outsider, I see; very well,
you have been a good friend of mine throughout the years, so I will do it for
you”. “What is your full name Avis?
”.

“Avis Aldebourne
”.

“Are you married? If so, is that
your marriage name, or have you kept the original?
”.

“It is my original surname, we
decided to keep our last names”.

“Very well, one moment… ”.

We looked on with deep interest
as he forged an official pass; copying the wording of his own, he was able to, without
error, duplicate the handwriting style. There was an official stamp he used,
with enflamed red ink, which had been forged using melted max, poured into a
small mould.

“Your pass is now complete; you
are now an
official
member of the city,
congratulations
”.

“Thank you”. I said, taking the
pass and slipping it into my awaiting pocket.

Camerine and Natrok talked for
what seemed like an age. I looked through the selection of books that were
available to buy. It appeared as if Natrok was writing his own book; placed
upon a desk it rested atop a slanted piece of wood to give better visibility;
the desk had ink pots adjoined, as well as storage for any reference accounts
he may require.

“Well we best be off, it has been
delightful to catch up, come by my house sometime for supper”. Camerine said as
I twiddled the feathers of a stuffed bird hung above the mantelpiece.

“That I will; enjoy the rest of
your day, farewell”.

We left, and Camerine had decided
to show me further up the street, as I had not been in this area before.

“This may not be the best of
areas to live, but the people here, I believe are
far
more friendly than
those of the
upper
classes”.

At the top of the street was a
large bustling square; people were desperately walking through, avoiding each
other, as carts ran over the feet of a few, not paying due attention. There
were large wooden containers where groups of women were cleaning their clothing
with salvaged water. Only the most unusable of items were upon the floor, as
anything that could be used was quickly picked up and taken away by those in
passing.

“That is the city executioner”.
Camerine said, pointing over to an immense man, his face covered in armour,
holding onto an axe, swollen by the blood of many.

Behind us walked up the two guards
who had been harassing Camerine’s mother.

“Hello… darling, what do we have
here?
”.
The guard grabbed upon her arm, but she pulled
herself off and continued walking with us.

“We have a
feisty
one
here, maybe we will have to tie her up”.

“Yes, we should, make her squirm
a little; that will be good to watch”. Patting the shoulder of the other guard,
he pointed at her and whispered.

“Fancied some fresh air today
gorgeous? Well here, I will give you a full-blown
gale
”.

They both stood at either side of
her and ripped off the dress she was wearing, leaving her only with
undergarments to hide her modesty. They laughed hysterically as they started to
walk away, congratulating each other.

“You
filthy
dogs, no
wonder you work for Hecate, you are disgusting rats like her”. She exploded in
anger at them, blaspheming with every word she knew; turning back to Camerine
in tears, she was met face to face with Hecate, whom had heard all that had
been said.

“So you, a
low
peasant
consider me a rat? How fascinating it is that a person of little intelligence
can construct an opinion”.

Hecate turned to me.

“Avis, I take it you now have
your pass now”.

“Yes, I do”.

Handing her the pass, she looked
at the detailing to ensure that in her opinion it was official.

“Very good, make sure you always
carry it, I will
not
be as merciful as I was the other day”.

She turned back to Camerine’s
mother.

“Now,
you
. I think for the
words you spoke, I shall make an example of you, all be it a small gesture of
my hostilities, I still feel it is necessary”.

“Guards, execute her
immediately”.

Camerine yelled; hatred and
desperation filling his heart. They took her over to the platform to be hung.
Cameron was held back by the guards, but he swung for them several times,
trying to break free to save his mother. They placed the noose around her neck,
her body stiff, she stood still, only looking at Camerine, their eyes met in a
moment as a single tear fell and her life ended.


You pigs
”. He yelled, his
body infuriated, lashing out at all whom got in his way.

“You will pay for this,
I
swear
”.

“Guards, take Camerine to the
prison, I do not wish for his behaviour to spill throughout the city”. Hecate
said as she walked over to me.

“Well now Avis, appears as though
I will no longer require your services, being a comrade to such lowly beings”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Burial of hearts the black widow's malice
3.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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