15. The Gallant Dogs

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Jinx

The Gallant Dogs

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There was sediment, half-a-finger thick, at the bottom of her trough, she realized. Could feel her arse sink into it, half-touch half-polish the rough wood surface underneath. On top of that, during the time she’d slept partially sunk into the now lukewarm water, her makeshift bathtub had leaked to the floor.

Squelch, said the unseen boot.

Before a voice rang.

“Darnit Pretty, that’s a lot of pink betwixt ‘em thighs,” The Northman said.

Either that, ‘Pretty’ thought raising a limber leg, then a head to see for herself, or I pissed in my sleep.

A fuckin’ lot.

“Pfft,” She snorted, hooking a leg at the side of the ‘bathtub’ to pull herself up and out of the water, her right hand providing the final push. Soren growled half-aroused half-surprised, his mess of red beard trembling as he puffed out alike a sweaty horse. Her other hand wiped her arse from whatever she’d scrapped off the bottom of the trough, as she looked around still dripping water for her clothes, ignoring the Northman. Soren, not a man to be ignored for more than a spell, made to come nearer, eyes shifting from her small naked breasts to her exposed mound, but she stopped him with a snap of her head his way. “Get me. My pants.”

The man towering over her frowned, not liking her tone at all, but with a smack of his lips started looking around for her leather pants.

“Captain is a fool,” The large man said tossing her a leather vest.

For taking you in, was what he didn’t say out loud.

“Are you stalling on purpose?” She asked buttoning the vest.

“Fuck you, freakish wench.”

“Nah, ye ain’t gettin’ any.”

Soren gave her the leather pants with a grimace.

“They stink something fierce.”

“That’s my scent big boy,” Jinx told him with a toothy grin. “Us island girls, are like that. Small, but we pack quite the odor.”

“Whatever,” Soren said turning to get out of the shed, she’d turned into a hotel room minus the fee. “Captain wants to speak to everyone.”

“Want help finding the others?” She asked now completely dressed.

“You’re the last.”

Jinx pushed her wet short bangs out of her face and behind her small ears. The exposed sides of her face revealed her tattooed lower part. It was an intricate pattern that snaked its way down her neck, the same color as her hair. A bright pink.

Soren, front of his shirt dark from sweat, paused and stared at her as if trying to decide whether he should make another attempt to bed her or just go ahead and kill her.

“You’ll die either way,” Jinx answered it for him casually, cleaning her nails with a small knife she’d produced from her pants.

“Fuck are you from again?” The Northman growled.

“The Sinking Isles,” She explained walking towards Castalor’s large central market. Soren started after her, his larger strides catching up with the smaller female fast.

“Where’s that?” He asked for what was the fourth or fifth time since he’d joined the ‘Gallant Dogs’ six months back.

“Beyond the Scalding Sea,” Jinx patiently replied and sure enough a moment later Soren gave his patent answer. Like a clock.

“There’s nothing there.”

As if he’d knew, Jinx snorted.

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Castalor was a big city, the closest port or ports, since it had two of those, to the continent of Eplas, practically touching it through the narrow Krakentrap Straits, a couple of days travel to the west. This made the city and its Lord Basten Van Oord, an important part of the Kingdom of Kaltha. A place of strategic and economic value. Now the fact that the part it was close to was the Lazuli Peninsula, also part of the Blasted Lands of Wetull, was were its good luck ended.

Most sane travelers preferred to brave the Shallow Sea, rest at the discreet Free Isles for a spell and then land at the Duchy of Raoz, than ever set their foot on ‘cursed’ ground of any kind. Not to mention traveling through Cofol territory after that. Neither as rich or large as Scaldingport, nor central like Riverdor, it was cursed itself to be always looked down upon, which was a bit unfair.

Jinx thought the city lacked for nothing. The market was large, the taverns full and noisy, drink was always plenty. Lots of people around, merchants and mercenaries aplenty.

Whores and horses galore.

“Stop complaining,” She said to the grumbling Northman following her through the busy morning market.

“Think I lose more fluids than I’m putting in,” The man complained just the same, having trouble breathing. “And I’m not drinking anything.”

Jinx made to answer him, but she spotted the well-groomed goatee of their Captain, his blue eyes smirking and waived with a hand. Dante Blackwood, clad in his fine leather armor, fancy red-leather belt tight at his waist waited for them to approach before talking. Victor Hook another Lorian, whom most knew as ‘Pale’, stood by his side wearing his trusted chainmail. Zola the Issir, crossbow strapped at her back, was across from them and right next to her the familiar figures of the two siblings, Cassara and Kirk Stone.

The ‘Gallant Dogs’ gang.

Company, she corrected herself.

“I see you’ve freshened up,” Dante quipped, then turning more serious. “That vest needs burning Whisper. It’s a matter of public health.”

That was her other name.

Whisper Jinx.

Or ‘Pretty Nose’.

On account that her kind lacked one, sort of.

Uhm.

“Soren likes me dirty more,” Jinx dead-panned, drawing a moan from the still huffing and puffing Northman and a couple of smiles from the other boys.

Not Pale though.

He’d no teeth for smiles.

Zola sighed.

“Jinx. Come on girl.”

“I’ve cleaned up the important stuff for you,” She teased but dark-skinned Zola wasn’t an easily opened black pearl. A crime, Jinx thought, appraising the older woman’s impressive bosom brazenly. She got double middle fingers for her efforts.

“All right,” Dante said, putting an end to their buffoonery. He’d chosen a small alley near the east exit of the market. Luckily it wasn’t that crowded for the time and pretty decent for a meeting. Perfect, if you lacked an office building, Jinx decided, putting her shoulder on the stand next to her. The merchant had skedaddled seeing their lot appear armed but unfortunately the only pieces of fruit left behind on the empty crates were mostly rotten. What was not, the insects had already claimed.

“Pretty,” Dante said interrupting her train of thought.

“Ayup.”

“Want me to repeat what I said?” Dante asked patiently. If I ever sucked cock again, it would be a polite one, Jinx decided with a grin, then answered syrupy.

“Sure. If you don’t mind.”

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“I’ve got us a decent contract,” Dante said putting as much conviction as he could in his words. Kirk stared at his sister, the second Issir female of their merry group, and she gave him a shrug. Both siblings were tall and muscled. Jinx thought Cassara was even more fit than her brother and you could mistake them in a scrap since they were both fighters, but for the woman’s golden front teeth. They didn’t seem particularly convinced but it was Zola that voiced her doubt aloud.

“Are we gonna help fix the road for the Lord’s brother again?” That was a contract Zola hadn’t enjoyed at all. Elrand Van Oord was a prick and a half on top of everything, which hadn’t helped.

“No construction,” Dante replied readily.

“We’re mercenaries,” Victor added, looking paler than she’d remembered as if the sun was scared of him.

“Exactly,” Dante jumped at the opportunity, giving everyone present a confident grin. It was this last part that worried Jinx the most.

“How dangerous?” She asked, catching the offended frown on Soren’s face. Bravery usually follows stupidity.

“Hah. Nothing much,” Dante stalled. “We just have to locate and apprehend a knight.”

“Just the one?” Zola probed.

“Aye. We get half the coin up front. Rest after we find him.”

“What’s the catch?” Jinx asked in turn.

“Nothing serious. Our employer attempted to get him on her own, failed and decided to outsource her problem to us professionals.”

“Was it him the other night? The scuffle near the eastern tower?” Jinx asked and Dante gave her a wink, accompanied by another grin. She smelled trouble.

“Exactly. This is why you are indispensable my dear. You miss nothing.”

Soren snorted.

“Word is people were killed,” Zola noted, not one to get outshined in the smarts department.

“It wasn’t pretty,” Dante sighed. “The knight escaped with a fishing boat, leaving a couple of his people dead and our employer very unhappy.”

“Which port?” Cassara asked square jaw set, ready for action.

“There was a pursuit,” Dante explained. “They reached Deadmen’s Watch.”

“They?” Zola asked.

“He has a squire with him.”

“If he’s gotten into the Shallow Sea… that’s a big area to search Dante.” Jinx said.

“The fisherman returned this morning. Our employer has her own… network.”

“What does this mean?” Soren asked and Jinx saw the slight narrowing of the eyes on Pale’s face. There it is then, she thought.

The dangerous part.

“Well…” Dante started then paused seeing that she’d figured it out.

“He ferried them across,” She said.

“Across where?” The Northman asked puzzled everyone seemed to know more than him.

Victor decided to speak again at this point, seeing that everyone else’s mood had taken a dip for the worse but were unwilling to voice their fear.

“The Peninsula.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Like this one?”

“No, the one across from us you ox,” Jinx snapped.

“Oh, for Uher’s sake Dante,” Zola moaned frustrated “Are you tryin’ to kill us all?”

Dante raised his shoulders and gave her one of his patented ‘everything-is-fine’ expressions. Seeing that it didn’t work he added shaking his head. “Fifty gold Eagles dear. Half up front.”

And that was that.

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Which of course wasn’t.

Reaching the Deadmen’s Watch, a fort and small fishing port at the edge of the Castalor peninsula required horses. They had a couple between them. Although they should have had more.

“I’m not carrying my crossbow without a mount Captain,” Zola said ominously and Soren agreed nodding enthusiastically. Strangely so, as he had a horse when they’d returned to Castalor not a week back.

“What happened to your horse?” Dante asked Soren and the Northman puffed exasperated.

“Sold it for a bit of coin?”

“What need you had for more? I’ve paid you for the month.”

“Whores here are expensive chief.”

Dante smacked his lips unsure how to answer him. He wasn’t quite wrong, far as Jinx was concerned.

“Well then. She’ll… that would be our employer, provide us with horses for the small trip,” He finally said. “So everything is agreed. As I said this is a good contract. We just have to meet with her on the gates of the City and set forth.” Seeing the mood hadn’t improved at all, he added. “We will also receive the first part of the payment.”

“Enough to buy a horse?” Soren asked.

“Sure. Or rent yourself a whore for a year,” Dante dead-panned and Jinx chuckled violently almost drowning in her own spit.

It was a good one.

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Zestari Herdan stood half-a-head taller than Whisper Jinx. Wrapped in a dark hooded cape, her face was always shaded but for the slightly pointy chin, a square silver buckle on her belt the only visible ornament. But ‘Pretty’, whatever she lacked in the nose department made up in eyesight. So peeling off the darkness, she gave the waiting for them female a closer inspection. Thin lips, a small nose and slanted eyes. A cold, gold-skinned beauty. Well, perhaps not a beauty so much, she thought, tip of her tongue touching her lower lip absentmindedly.

But loin-melting interesting.

“You’re late,” Zestari hissed, never a good opening line when you’re daydreaming of nights full of passion. Even if it was directed at ‘Captain’ Blackwood. Dante raised a hand, index finger pointed at the heavens above.

“Indeed we are and for good reason.”

“What reason is that?”

“The fuck,” Zola snapped, figuring out who their employer was. “Is this a Cofol?”

Zestari glared at the woman with open hostility.

“We are professionals,” Dante intervened quickly to nip it in the bud. “Which is why we are ready to leave on your order.”

“I will come with you,” Zestari said after a brief staring contest with the unyielding Zola. “The horses are ready. We leave in an hour.”

Wow, Zinx thought. That’s not what we do.

“Ahm… how about—” but Dante had enough foresight to cut in quick as a seasoned orator.

“Yes. Guys and Ladies. You heard her. We are leaving in an hour.”

Which was, twice in a row.

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“What are you doing?” Asked Jinx for the sixth time that day. Four during their mad-ride towards Deadmen’s Watch and twice since they boarded the fishing boat right after the sun had set. Eight people and a mule laden with supplies. Since taking even one horse with them, would have been catastrophic, according to their fisherman guide-of-sorts and captain. A shady Issir named Phel, Jinx doubted he’d ever caught a fish in his life. What he wanted the extra space for, a girl could only guess, if said girl had a vivid enough imagination.

‘Deadmen’s Watch’ the fort, had grown over the century since it’d been built into a small fishing town and smuggler’s paradise. Its port was used as a cozy stop for captains sailing from the Shallow Sea intent to brave the narrows between the continents towards the greater ocean and its markets. The ocean had taken its apt name, after the scalding winds and cyclones that attacked the ships when on its open waters. From here one could still unload his cargo and it would eventually reach the great harbors of Scaldingport, Aldenport and so forth. Of course a lot of these captains and their cargo were… let’s say ‘sensitive’ enough, to want to avoid dealing with the stricter authorities at the nearby larger twin ports of Castalor.

“Don’t you trust me ‘Pretty’?” Dante had asked instead, dark blue eyes staring at the landmass covered in fog they were approaching. He’d finally given up trying to convince her of the smartness of his investment and plan or something along those lines. Jinx had tuned out his prattling after a while. Every sane person did. These last words though shook her out of her mood a bit.

Ten years back, give or take a month, a much younger Dante had asked her something similar. Jinx herself was sun-burned to a crisp, but still somehow wet-enough to drip and salted like a dead trout. Half-tangled, half-tied up on a piece of broken oak that was part of either a berth or a ship’s-toilet in its old life. Also young enough to have no tits and no idea what that tall idiot ‘n big-nosed outlander was talking about.

Instead of a snarl followed by a bite, this time she gave the handsome man a sidelong stare.

“I do,” She said seeing a smart grin dance at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like politics?” Dante asked.

“No. Should I?”

“Probably not,” He grabbed the rail of the boat with both hands and let a breath he held, leave him slowly. “It is a risk.”

“I get it.”

“No. You don’t,” Dante replied tensely. “Our knight was expecting a messenger, according to our employer. Now Zestari danced around it, but I believe it was from Raoz.”

“The Duchy? All this for a bird?”

“No bird. A man.”

“Why sent a man… what was the message?” Jinx asked.

“I don’t know. This is royal business, I’m certain.”

“Shit. Why not get the messenger then?”

“She did. Sunk a ship he was on. Don’t ask me how,” Dante sighed. “I think the man is dead.”

“This, we are uncertain of,” Zestari said, scaring the piss out of Jinx. Felt it running down her leg and into her boot. She had to stand on her toes and wiggle her foot around to stop the tickling, all under the curious scrutiny of both Dante and Zestari. Jinx gave the tasty Cofol a shrug.

“Hey, it’s your fault.”

“What—?”

“Ahm, right,” Dante intervened. “As I said, I think the man is dead. But Zestari wants to make sure contact was not made.”

“Eliminating both parties is the safe way,” Zestari droned.

“Let’s not think so terminally. Man could be oblivious or half-way to Rin An-Pur by now,” Dante said but Jinx could see they were not on the same page.

That could spell trouble down the line.

Damn it.

“How are we gonna catch them on foot?” She asked changing the subject or so she thought.

“They will never leave the Peninsula,” Zestari replied surely. “They have no boat, minimum provisions and to enter the Khanate lands they’d have to cross the Burning Crests, which is impossible.”

“Why? You seem pretty sure,” She countered not letting go.

Zestari stepped up to her and pressed a thin finger on her chest. Caught her below the nipple and while shockingly stimulating as much as unexpected;

It hurt like a mother-fucker.

“Listen up, you nose-less brat,” Zestari hissed, voice dripping venom and disgust. “If there was a way for the Great Khan to cross that cursed volcanic mounts or whatever Ora’s built there, he’d conquer this filthy continent we left untouched years ago. And rid the land of your lot. Whatever the hells you are.”

It was a good solid, tongue-lash.

It hurt her, surprisingly more than the finger.

Jinx decided right then, she’ll hurt the Cofol in the near future.

A whole fuckin’ lot.

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The ground felt brittle under her feet. Jinx could hear the wind blowing over the not-so-distant tree line and towards the further away shrouded in gasses mount peaks. It washed the mist hiding the coast from their approach away, or perhaps it all had been an illusion.

She knew this couldn’t be true, but still everything felt wrong.

“Have you ever seen red trees?” Soren asked gruffly. “This is some weird shit.”

“The air smells wrong,” Zola commented.

“It’s the sulfur,” Dante explained. “Find us their tracks, if you will ‘Pretty’.”

She nodded and walked away from the shore, while the others unloaded their boat under the watchful eye of its owner. Rocks and sand gave way to yellow green undergrowth until the clearing split naturally, the vast sick-looking forest blocking one part, the other left barren. It led towards the mountains in the distance. She guessed at least twenty kilometers away. Depending on how tall those peaks were. It was a devastated landscape this, part melted rocks, remnants of Lava Rivers thrown in between and lone huge boulders restricting her view. No water there, volcanos waiting at the end, terrain ruinous for horses.

Jinx sighed. Then set her eyes over her right shoulder, towards the red forest. A moment later she walked to the first trees and looked around for clues of people passing through until Dante called her back.

“Anything?” He asked, nervously keeping an eye at the exchange between Zestari and their guide/captain Phel.

“I don’t think they run for the ‘Burning Crests’. Then again, I don’t see them crossing the forest.”

“Meaning?”

“They might be sticking close. Found horse droppings just inside the trees,” She explained and then they both turned to watch the heated exchange between the Issir and their Employer.

“I’ll return in a week and that’s it,” Phel argued.

“Too soon. You will come back another three times. Four in total for a month,” Zestari insisted much to the man’s amusement.

“For the same coin?” Phel snickered “I’m not running a charity milady.”

“Five gold Eagles is not enough?”

“Not in the least, when ye factor in the expenses.”

Zestari took a step forward, well into his personal space and stared at him thoughtfully.

“You have a counter?”

“Sure I do,” Phel replied cockily not backing down.

“May I hear it?”

“Double what you offered.”

Zestari pushed the hood off her head. Her slick black hair was tightly pulled back and secured in an elaborate bun decorated with silver and gold beads. Jinx thought she looked pretty nice for a toxic racist cunt.

“I will take the other option,” Zestari said after a brief silent deliberation.

“That so? Don’t think there—”

Phel froze up suddenly feeling a short sword slipping between his ribs to the handle. Jinx’s hand went for her bow startled, but by the time she grasped it with shaking fingers, Zestari sidestepped away from the quivering smuggler/captain and guide, but not before opening his neck ear to ear with another razor sharp short sword she’d produced out of thin air. Blood gushed out in an explosion that ended as abruptly as it started, with him collapsing face first on the rough ground.

As dead as those volcanic rocks sewn all around them.

“Fuck,” Zola gasped, her face ashen.

“Ora’s beard, have ye gone insane!” Soren growled.

“Wait!” Dante ordered trying to prevent things from going haywire. Everyone was nervous and itching for a fight so Jinx took a precautionary step back to make room for a quick draw and release with her bow.

Zestari looked at them unbothered for a moment, then stooped to retrieve her short sword from the corpse of Phel. She cleaned the bloody blade using a linen shirt the dead Issir wore and then pointed it towards the solemn looking Victor.

“Told me you could handle the rudder,” She said matter-of-factly. “Was it true?”

“Aye. Every part of it,” ‘Pale’ replied scrunching his mouth this way and that.

Zestari nodded.

“You’ll take us back then. I’ll pay you five gold Eagles for it.”

Victor Hook raised a brow. “On top of my cut?”

“That’s right big guy. If ye get rid of this fool before it stinks.”

“You have yerself a deal,” The man replied simply.

Gods dammit, Jinx thought letting go of her hold on the bow. This is where I need to stop fooling around with her. Gotta stay alive girl.

I better poison them arrowheads first thing.

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One would think, the incident would affect the party and it partially did. Dante wanted them to rest for the coming night, but Zestari decided to send them out to search for tracks again. Light came and went with Jinx going out last or so she thought, intent to call it off when she returned.

An hour later, she’d nothing to show for it and slowly she turned back towards the coast under the darkness of the surrounding trees. Not that it bothered her much. Her eyes were keen and she could see the paths between the trunks and bushes. Ruins as well. Houses, from one-storied simple things, to big three-storied estates. A whole city was hidden inside the forest alright. A dead one.

“Cass went to look into that big square. Spooky place, but I had to come. Keep my eye on her. Cass takes too many risks,” Kirk said surprising her. He’d sneaked up on Jinx, quite a feat for such a big man. It made her angry, missing both him and the opening. “It was a town here once.”

“Aye. That’s the story,” Jinx said stiffly.

“Zestari wanted us to look around some more,” The fighter explained, understanding her frustration.

“I get it,” Jinx tried it a bit softer now. “She’s a difficult cunt.”

“Ayup, that she is,” The large man responded with a rare grin.

Jinx made to stretch out herself, mind already shifting through potential sleeping spots back at their camp, when she noticed a yellow reddish shine between two large ruined buildings. The trees that had sprouted all around them had created a barrier of sorts hiding most of the details. But it was dark and light is not as easily constrained.

She opened her mouth to warn Kirk but his sister's cry came first.

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Cassara dashed out a broken part of a wall, stumbled on a mold eaten beam protruding from the ground, arms flailing wildly, but stopped herself at the last moment from falling down. Her large frame shaking with pent up rage.

“GET THAT SNEAKY SHIT!” She bellowed throwing Jinx’s plan for an ambush out the window. “He kicked the stew on my best boots.”

“Where?”

“He jumped out. Reckon to warn the Knight.”

Jinx span around herself, bow half-drawn in hand, taking in what used to be the center of a large estate and not a town as Kirk had said. Not that it made a lick of difference either way, it was all ruined by now. She tried to locate their target and finally spotted him legging it at the other edge of the opening. She counted less than thirty meters. He was heading towards a cut through the woods, attempting to leave the ruined estate he’d built his fire in behind.

There are your horses, the Gish thought. But she didn’t have a clean enough shot.

“Follow me,” Jinx said to the siblings and went after him.