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Swan Tale of the Road Upstairs

In the meantime, in the captain's cabin, Swan discovers that Allina and Horatia have been convalescing. Swan's quick and dirty and field-level inspection of wounds and injuries show that the injuries are healing already. The most serious wound is a broken wrist on the elder Hellmaiden. Horatia's discomfort is stoically borne, but Swan can tell that she is holding up as well as she can.

Swan gives them the once over. “I’ve had more broken bones than relationships,” she says. “So, I know that a bottle of jiggle juice is a cure-all for both. Crack a bottle if you need to, doll.”

"The calories in alcohol may also aid in the healing process." Horatia reflects. Carefully as someone with a broken wrist is able to, she navigates to the liquor cabinet. Swan does not recognize or even can read what the label says, The exotically doubly curved shape of the bottle is also novel.However, the liquid inside is refreshingly reminiscent in color, appearance and even smell to bourbon. Horatia carefully decants the liquid into a glass. the bourbon-like liquid running up and down inside of the vessel. After finishing pouring the first glass, she then pours two more. Allina takes the hint, walks over, takes both and brings one over to Swan.

"We didn't take anything more than superficial damage." Allina, who has nothing worse than some already-healing moderate flesh wounds, explains, sitting back down with her glass. "The Tanista's bondswoman's skill with the essence cannon was as advertised and it probably bought us enough time to survive. We didn't feel that manning the Ballista and leaving just one person to repel boarders would have been effective. In retrospect." her voice turns reflective and apologetic. "this may have been a tactical error on our part."

“Nah. You did sweet. Ship’s still here.” Swan heads to the wheel, relieving whoever might be handling it at the moment. “And you took your licks in stride. More than I can say for most.”

"It would be dishonorable to allow the ship to fall." Allinia says.

"We did lose a couple of the servants on the ship to enemy action." she adds. They panicked, jumped in the water on the far side but were cut down." she adds.

Swan shrugs, “That’s the price for beating feet.” She checks the river for obstacles or further trouble, slowly easing the steamer out into deeper water.

Her eyes turn back toward the ladies, “I’m glad you’re safe as houses. Lost enough friends these last few years.”

"A mob of demons, however large, is not what will send either of us back to the Serpent." Horatia, her glass half drained, says. "If we are to fall in battle, it will be against a worthy foe."

Swan turns her head, giving them a hard look. “It’s the mistakes that get you, girls. Not the glory. A chiv in a mug’s mitts makes you just as dead as getting it from a dropper, savvy? The moment you forget that is the day you get chilled.”

"Mmm" Horatia says. "Mistakes, yes."

"Speaking of which." Allinia picks up. "You should be wary of the Minobee mercenaries the Knight has hired, Swan. He may be trustable to a point, as is his brother, and of course Dara's daughter. But the Minobees? Definitely not."

Swan rolls her shoulders, still stiff from the recent shifting. “Trust ain’t something I’m known for, doll. Don’t like the looks of them even more than usual, though.” She raises a brow, “Better give me the low down on them, though.”

The handling of the ship feels right and proper as Swan eases back into the controls, controls that do feel like they were designed with her in mind, as per her shifting..

"Minobee" Allinia looks at Horatia who shrugs slightly and makes a gesture with her broken arm. Allinia gives a nod and looks back at Swan at the wheel.

Swan takes note of their silent communication, raising a brow.

Neither seems to pick up on Swan's question. Allinia simply begins to speak.

"Minobee is one of the Thirteen Great Houses, along with Sawall, Hendrake and the other ten. We probably should save that for another time, though, or as needs suit. Mercantile House, interested in wealth and the power you can leverage from it. They have traders and trading outposts throughout the Black Zone. In Camaar, New Crobuzon, Ambergris, The City of Brass, and many other places. One or more of them might even be on our route."

Swan nods to this, memorizing the names of these places – instinctively sensing their existence in the grand scheme of things. They feel… Real. Both a benefit and a curse, depending.

"Like Aricline and Draynell. they support Hendrake, for the moment, as Hendrake is the second ranked House after Sawall currently." she adds.

"However, they would sell out Hendrake in a moment for another, if given a chance. That is their way. Always an eye for the main chance and to profit their House. I don't pretend to understand their internal politics on how they make decisions in that regard. But profitable treachery seems to be a favorite tactic of theirs."

Swan laughs, “My Family mastered that long ago, doll. Pop being the stray cat of them all. He sold me out more times than I can count. Calls it ‘fatherly love,’ but never realized that involved so many bullets. So, yeah. Used to having a knife at my back.”

"Prince Caine." Allinia says darkly. "Those who worship him in the Cults revere him as a Trickster, Assassin figure who feigns death and turns on his friends and enemies with equal abandon. Dishonorable."

“He’d prefer ‘questionably resourceful,’” Swan says off-handedly.

"So it does seem the Prince has something in common with the treacherous Minobee." Allinia says.

She turns her head and smiles at the Maidens, “If they make a move against my friends, I’ll ice them. They mess with you and the girls, I’ll ice them. Dead to rights, ‘kay? Just give me a nod if you get the lowdown on them tugging our nips.”

Her attention goes back to the river, “Regretting the change in careers, yet?”

Horatia laughs, and Allinia picks up the laughter. The unison of their laughs are like two bells, nearly at the same note, ringing in unison for a few moments.

"Oh, Swan" Horatia says, shakes her head. "A broken arm? Some ramshackle hordes of demons? Possible treachery from Minobees?. Back in the war, for us, that was your typical Tuesday. Is that right, Tuesday, that's one of the days of the week as you name them?"

Swan nods, “Got it in one.”

"If we didn't have obvious sources of treachery on the Not for Hire." Allinia adds. "We'd have to invent one."

"After your clan skipped Chaos, the usual epithet for Barimen is "The traitorous treacherous Barimens" Horatia says. "Minobees do it just for the money and profit, though. Which makes it better than theological reasons, I suppose."

"Does it?" Allinia says.

Horatia shrugs and winces.

Swan gives Horatia the ~Look.~ “Might not want to say that around a Barimen, toots. They tend to stick metal objects in soft places for less.” She shrugs slightly, “Mercs that go only where the cabbage falls hardest are standing on shaky ground. Someone will always have more green, so you don’t make friends easy. And some would rather zotz you than cough up the greenbacks they’ve dangled. It’s pure, but dangerous.

“A true Merc honors their commitment ‘til the end. Shows you ain’t greedy, so your Mr. Johnson doesn’t have to worry about you turning sides. Less hassle for them. Less chance you get double-crossed yourself. Honor amongst thieves. Gotta have it or your always looking over your shoulder.”

Swan gives them a wink, “No skin off my nose. Just my Family’s touchy nature, girls. They don’t like being called on their foibles.” She shrugs, “Me? Never been a highbinder. I know full well I ain’t perfect.

“And yeah, you’re more like sisters to me than my flesh and blood.”

"So you are not so different from us, Swan." Horatia says. "You may be paid for your work, but you do not turn on your employers if offered, err, some cabbage to do so."

Swan smiles, “It’s why we’re bumping elbows, doll. You’re both good eggs. And will be for some time to come, I’m sure. We might have a right old gang soon enough. We just need a name for it.”

"Mercenary companies are traditionally named by their leaders." Horatia says.

"I think that's a bit formal for what Swan is thinking" Allinia says.

"Is it?" Horatia says. "At least a mercenary company can be registered and chartered."

"You just want another challenge coin." Allinia replies, laughing.

"I do" Horatia says. She looks at Swan, reaches into her pocket with her unbroken arm and pulls out a metal disc and slaps it down with a metal ring. The coin is bronze, with the center painted black. On this field of black are engraved a pair of silver swords, hilts touching in a v formation The bottom of the coin has a few words in a script Swan doesn't recognize.

Allinia snorts. "She already gave you a drink."

Swan snatched the coin from the air and examines it carefully – flipping it over and over between her fingers. “I’m pretty sure there’s a story that goes with this,” she says, flicking it back to Horatia.

"It's the coin for our unit during the Gujarreh War" she says. "Story for another time, perhaps" Horatia says.

“Not sure if we have enough bodies for a full Black Company. But, if you’re serious on pro-rated wet-work, we could chew the fat over it some. I’d have to think on the charter. Never been much for lawyer-talk, though.”

"There are standard contracts the Hellmaidens offer as models" Allinia says. "If you are going to gather forces to you, Swan, you will wind up with a Company whether you call it that or not. Better you make that decision beforehand."

Horatia nods in agreement.

Swan nods firmly, “When then, I’ll make sure I do right by you ladies.”

She turns her eyes back to the river, falling quiet as she considers this responsibility.

"That is all we can ask of a commander." Horatia says. "Another drink" she says to Allinia "I need to metabolize the sugars and alcohol and get this arm healed. There will be business at this Unseelie Court."

“Metabolize away, toots,” Swan chuckles. “There’ll be plenty of hooch, hoochie, and horrors when you follow me. Although, I might take you for some RnR in the Arden. There’s a bunch of furry men and women there that’d love to curl up with a woman that doesn’t break easy.”

"I look forward to it." Horatia says. "Assuming we stand alive at the end of our War." She raises a glass filled by her counterpart.

After making sure they’re on course and well on their way through Shadow, Swan hands over the wheel to Horatia. “Going to check on the others. I’ll be back shortly.”

"Very wise, Captain" they say in concert. "I have the bridge." Horatia adds.


Page last modified on April 13, 2013, at 01:37 AM