Chapter 13 #2
“From my perspective, you’re the one getting into these situations.
You’re lucky that I happen to be nearby.
” Faron winked. “I’d hate to think of where you would be if I hadn’t been near during our recent encounters—beaten in some dark alley, held captive by the evil mages, or drowned at the bottom of the Taralin?
” He faked a shiver. “Your odds do not look good,” he said with a wink.
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she grumbled.
“Of that I have no doubt. Forgive me for interfering in your efforts to dispatch the criminals,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Tal nodded. “Apology accepted. I’ll get them later,” she added with a hint of malice in her voice.
“May I join you?”
She studied her companion. “I wouldn’t think my plans to be fitting for a noble. I’d hate to corrupt you.”
Faron smiled up at the sky. “Oh, it’s too late for that.”
After buttering her up with small talk, he convinced her to be seen by a natural healer.
The pounding headache that impaired her ability to have a coherent conversation or even walk straight convinced her.
She stumbled a few times, and he caught her until she regained her footing again.
She didn’t even know which way they were walking at that point.
She didn’t quite trust the man to offer the location of her tunnel hideaway yet, but she would likely get lost on her way back to the tunnels on her own.
So, she found herself led by his direction to a house she hadn’t visited in months.
The structure looked much like every other building in the docks—run-down, ill-kept, and possibly abandoned.
Faron helped her sit against the side of the building while he went around the back.
She cocked her head when he didn’t knock on the front door, but she didn’t bother pressing.
Three agonizing minutes later, he came out the front door and picked her up off the ground before she could protest. Waiting at the entrance stood a petite, elderly woman with white hair that usually sat atop her head in a bun.
Tonight, it reached well down her back in waves, catching on the long sleeves of her nightgown.
She tsked after recognizing Tal and waved toward the table with an exasperated sigh. “Still starting fights, I see,” the old woman chastised.
“Hi Madge.” Tal had the mind to show at least a little remorse.
“So, rather than swallowing your pride and apologizing, you’d rather poison yourself with those potions and, gods forbid, doctor your wounds yourself with your shoddy healing methods.” She crossed her arms and scowled.
Tal held her head in her hands against the throbbing pain.
She sat on the table with her legs hanging over the edge.
Thankfully, only a lone candle on a shelf behind the healer disrupted the darkness.
“The elixirs aren’t poison. They heal faster than your medicines and herbs.
Hells, they often use the same ingredients.
There’s just a bit of magic in them. Besides, you’re bleeding expensive. ”
Madge scoffed and turned her back to Tal, muttering about magic and demons’ work.
The whole time, Faron watched the two bickering women, utterly confused. “My apologies, but do you two know each other?”
Madge gestured to Faron. “Best healer in the docks, and he doesn’t think we know each other? You don’t pick the smart ones, do you?” She placed a basket on the table and rummaged through the items inside.
“Well now, there’s no need to throw around insults!” He held his hand over his heart as if taking offense.
“Wake me up well past the witching hour, and I’ll be giving all the insults I please.” She stuffed a few leaves into Tal’s mouth and told her to chew. The leaves tasted awful, but Tal obliged. “And YOU!” She wagged her finger at the bounty hunter. “I thought you were giving up the drink.”
“I never said that,” Tal said around the leaves that were now almost a paste.
Madge held out her hand and instructed Tal to spit.
Tal smirked at the face Faron made when she obliged.
Then, the old woman humbled her when she slapped the chewed-up leaves onto Tal’s bruised cheek.
Tal glowered at Faron who quickly covered his surprised laugh with a fake cough.
Madge waved her hand at Tal’s midsection. “Lift up.”
“I can already tell you at least one is broken.”
“Girl, next time you try to do my job, I’ll make you chew the skunkwood by accident.”
Tal opened her jacket and lifted the hem of her shirt without another word. Madge didn’t have accidents.
The dim candlelight revealed the bruises blooming around her midsection, earning her a few angry tsks from the old woman and a sharp inhale from Faron.
Madge set to work poking, prodding, hunting for herbs, and doing what Tal liked to call senile magic for the non-magical.
“How do you know Madge?” she asked the noble.
He had stood back since depositing Tal on the table, quietly observing the exchange between the two women. “Pure luck. She happened to find me in distress, and I was happy to pay for her services.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. You were looking like a fool trying to set that dislocated shoulder by yourself,” Madge grumbled without taking her eyes off her work.
Tal offered a triumphant smile. “So, I’m not the only one getting into fights around here.”
“No. You are,” Madge replied quickly.
Faron ducked his head. “I slipped off a roof.” Tal’s laugh made her wince, but it was worth the look on her companion’s face.
“I have since purchased a better pair of boots. Good for roof hopping.” A pause in the conversation had him making very obvious attempts to avoid seeing Tal’s indecently exposed ribcage while she winced, and the old woman worked.
“So… how many nights in a row is this for you? Is that a you thing, or a ‘docks’ thing?”
Tal exchanged a knowing look with Madge before she responded. “Well, both? I guess trouble tends to find me."
Madge narrowed her eyes.
"Okay, so I get myself into those situations,” Tal clarified. “But it’s also somewhat normal for life here.”
“Isn’t there a sheriff around here?” Faron shook his head.
“He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t. The docks are run by the gangs. Or rather, they were. It’s all up in the air now that Pochette’s gone.”
He pursed his lips. “How long has it been like this?”
“As long as I can remember.”
Madge chimed in this time, “Life at the docks was rough but fairly safe until the old king died. After that, we were forgotten, and a bunch of shady traders settled here knowing no one would stop them from taking advantage.”
Faron narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything.
Instead, he asked, “And the orphans? The beggars? The sick?” He referred to the sad state of nearly everyone unfortunate enough to call the docks home.
Illness spread like wildfire, and only those with extra coin could afford help whether from a natural healer, a magical healer, or an alchemist. And with illness running rampant, what children survived were often left orphaned on the streets once the debtors came to collect their due.
Good food was scarce, and cleanliness a luxury no one could afford.
No one ventured into their part of the kingdom for fear of catching something.
And for that reason, Tal had trouble trusting Faron’s intentions, even though her friends were less wary.
“Once the money stopped coming in, and Pochette took what was left, the streets were flooded with them. There ain’t enough gold in the kingdom or decent people to care for everyone.
” Madge narrowed her eyes when Tal frowned.
“Don’t go down that road again, girl. I told you taking on Pochette meant nothing but trouble. ”
“Tell that to Carrick. He’s the one pushing for us to do more. Besides, we have no resources now that his businesses are gone. One issue at a time,” she muttered the last part under her breath.
Madge finished treating Tal while Faron stood brooding in the corner. Tal wondered what part of their conversation upset him. This was neither his home nor his responsibility. The docks were an unfixable problem, a lost cause. Anyone who couldn’t see that had to be blind.
Despite Tal’s protests, Faron paid Madge for her services. The old woman gave Tal some extra herbs, told her to rest until the broken rib healed, then sent her on her way. She had a headache, her midsection ached, and she just wanted to lay down in her own bed.
Faron walked Tal back to a tunnel entrance close enough that she could make it home without incident. “You’re sure I can’t walk you home?” he asked.
She held a hand across her middle to support her tender ribs. “I’ll be fine. The walk is short from here.” She gestured off into the distance.
“Then you must promise to rest.” He stood with his hands behind his back, kicking his feet like a nervous child.
“I can’t.” Her mood darkened. “I have to find those men.”
Faron held up a finger. “Madge gave strict instructions. I’m sure one of your friends can handle the search until you’re well enough.”
He wasn’t wrong. She already planned to send Egan out in the morning. And Rainier’s network must know something about gangs being approached by a mage searching for a redhead. “True, but your concern won’t stop me from silencing them myself,” she warned.
“Only long enough for you to heal properly, I swear.” When Tal didn’t object, he asked again, “So, you’ll rest then?”
Tal nodded. “Until I can take an elixir—my elixir.”
“Excellent!” He clapped his hands together, making Tal jump and wince. “Sorry! Sorry!” Faron reached out, but she waved him off. “I’ll return tomorrow evening to ensure you’ve rested.”
“Don’t trust me?” She chuckled.
“Of course not! You seem to think I’ll always come to your aid. If I find you in one more compromising position, I’ll have to give up resisting and marry you already.”
“Please, not this again.” Before he could say anything further, she changed the subject. “Meet me at the longest pier at sunset. And don’t for one second think I need you looking after me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, my lady,” he said with a bow.
Before he stood, Tal slipped none-too-gracefully into the open sewage drain, cursing her bruised and broken body when she hit the tunnel floor.