Things to do in Marn when you're Wanted

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton propped his right elbow up on the edge of the tub and rested the side of his head in his hand, looking sidelong at Dorcas while she turned around. By this point his hair was as damp as it was going to get from the steam. The water had started cooling and was losing its comfort value to him.

The talk with Useless still weighed heavily on him and the prospect of meeting up with Cervantes, having to explain his abandonment somehow, loomed overhead. Predictions of what might happen swam around in the back of his mind. It made his mood uncharacteristically somber, a detail which did indeed soften his rough accent.

"Dor, when I say leave, I mean Thar Shaddin. I got business needs takin' care of in Keltaris." He then added, having long had a suspicion that the girl did not know much at all about the world or where she was, "that's a week away on horseback..."

The situation was serendipitous in that Keltaris was one place on Pal Tahrenor that Chrishton suspected a plain girl like Dorcas would do well. From what he knew, and saw the last time he passed through, it was a bastion of human civilization and wealth. Perhaps the most desirable place for any full blooded human to live.

"If y'come with me, it'll be rough. 'n it'll be a long time afore there's any chance o'comin' back 'ere."

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas could still see Chris in her periphery, a vague mass of flesh-toned movement. She couldn't help but glance over as she saw him prop his head up to face her, but she quickly turned her gaze back to the wall under the premise of scratching an itch on her temple.

Her large nose--into which her overall facial structure was growing rather well in this segue out of her early-pubescent awkwardness--was flushed red, irritated by the tears she was holding back. While he spoke, she breathed unsteadily and with such noise to suggest she were in physical pain, although this was just the sound of the strain of her emotion. She alternately tensed and released her fists.

"Leave Thar Shaddin . . . that's uh, that's the . . . county? This county where we are, where Marn is . . . yes?" Her voice was meek and betrayed a note of hopefulness that aimed beyond this "Keltaris" place mentioned.

Dorcas clasped her hands together at her sternum and looked over at Chris. She almost smiled, but his solemn expression preempted such haste. Instead, she just stared at his face in search of that well-masked kindness on which he seemed to operate most times. Something like the prettiness of youth lit up her unsmiling, uncomely face. She wasn't a fair girl by any means, and it may have just been youth itself that gave this impression--the impulsiveness that brightened her.

But after a few moments, of silence, she glanced down at the floor and her expression faltered. "I, uhm . . . I don' think . . . I mean, I'm not so good at riding horseback, and--ye know--my stuff's all here . . ." She looked up at him with an expression that could be described as a controlled panic. He was going to see through her thin excuse, and she had no way of explaining the real reason. It could hardly be described as a "real" reason, there seemingly being no logic or reason to it. Inexplicably, it was that boy.

[Chrishton Radu]

He nodded in affirmation of her guess, while his own hunch - that she still knew absolutely nothing about the world she was living in - was likewise confirmed. He did not recall exactly how it was she claimed to have ended up in Thar Shaddin, if she'd even told him at all, but the poor girl was more of an outsider than he was.

He smiled when she searched his face, putting the carefully tucked away kindness out into the light for her to see. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen, but forthright people with whom he had an opportunity to befriend were rarer than diamonds. Perhaps she was Inari's reward for coming to this hell hole. She was certainly the only good thing that had happened to him.

Dorcas' reason for wanting to stay did not agree with Chrishton. Mydjeken was trash who she would be better off without, and Keltaris was an ideal place for her on the larger scale... but this small place where at least she knew some people and in which she held some kind of a job could offer her stability that Keltaris, and Chrishton himself, could not.

"Stay 'ere then. Yer smart 'nuff t'make yer own decisions, but ya gotta live with 'em Dor. Think about it now, 'cause I'm leavin' t'day." He paused, and then added, "after m'bath."

[Dorcas Tansy]

Chrishton mentioned a desire to finish his bath, and Dorcas reluctantly edged towards the door. With one hand on the handle, she stopped and deliberately knocked her forehead against the door. She frowned and rubbed her brow against the wood as a kind of quiet personal tantrum. Then, she turned around and slid her back down along the length of the door to finally sit on the floor. A small puddle of tepid water soaked into her skirt and stockings. From this angle, she could see along the surface of the bath's water, but the images beneath didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm not goin' out there," she stated as if informing him of an unfortunate reality he wouldn't want to accept. She slipped the index and middle fingers of her hand behind herself, under the crack of the door, to poke her cat on the other side.

"Ye know the las' time I ran away, this is where I ended up." This had been a poorly though out decision, the consequences of which she was living with. Dorcas scowled defiantly because of this lecture, but after all she couldn't help the fact that she was in need.

"God . . . wish he hadn' gone an' grabbed me that way." Her voice cracked with bitterness, and she tensed her fists, which caused her ropey forearms to flex. The action seemed to offer her a little bit of comfort.

"I can't stay 'ere with these whores, huh," she said finally. She didn't seem to direct it specifically as a question, but after a moment, she did look up at Chrishton for some kind of reaction.

[Chrishton Radu]

His eyes followed her all the way to the door, until instead of opening it she bumped her head against it and then slid onto the floor in frustration.

Where she came from and how she got to Thar Shaddin didn't interest him as much as it might someone else. Having seen so much, it didn't really matter. There were countless other worlds and isolated places, even other times. He was well traveled enough to have heard it all, and seen some of these places first hand.

What mattered was that she was hopelessly far from her home, partially by her own choice, and that she needed to learn about Pal Tahrenor before her ignorance cost her the only thing she had left. There would be plenty of time to go over the details if she came with him.

He was still looking at her, with the side of his head propped up on his palm, when she looked back.

"I dun think these people're good fer ya, no. I'll tell ya Dor... ya k'n either stay 'ere 'n Marn the rest 'o yer life, 'n prob'ly be real comfert'ble until some shit goes down'n yer forced ta leave... Or ya k'n step outsid'a this bubble 'n see whats out there."

A pair of fox spirits showed up in the room and hovered about overhead. He could tell they were amused by his speech, perhaps scoring him some points up high. That, and they wanted to make sure he didn't say too much.

"There's a lot ya dun' know. There's a lot I k'n show ya that ain't nobody else on Pal Tahrenor k'n show ya. But I wilna lie - yer on yer own. I ain't gon' be yer dad."

Or anyone's father, for that matter.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas rolled her eyes heavenward and opened her mouth slack. A bit of salty liquid trickled from her nostrils, which she wiped away absently with her fingertips. Her expression soured when Chrishton hit a sore spot, saying something about not being her dad.

"Yew . . . think . . . I need ye t'be my dad. Huh! Fuckin' . . . not likely!" She spat the disjointed defense unconvincingly, but she was distracted with a decision that had to be made. Dorcas rubbed her eyes with her damp fingertips. A trace stale black pigment that had dried at the base of her eyelashes dissolved and became a gray smudge under each eye.

"I didn' run away to be comfortable . . ." she muttered against her wrists as she continued to rub her eyes. The girl nodded sharply. Her cheeks had grown thinner since Chrishton had first met her, or else they would have jiggled from such a motion.

"Awright." She uncovered her gaze and looked at Chris directly. "Hurry up, then." The beating of her heart was practically audible.

As if on cue, Dorcas's cat gave a loud yowl from outside the bathroom, which was followed by a shrill, insistent "shhh!" that must have been from very near the door as well. Otter was so good at climbing those stairs unnoticed.

"Hurry up!" repeated Dorcas. They were probably being eavesdropped upon.

[Chrishton Radu]

A grimace crossed Chrishton's features immediately following his last remarks. The words had not come out the way he wanted them to. For his own sake, and for Dorcas' sake, he should not have said them. She had issues with parents all her own, and he could tell.

An apology was not forthcoming, and for this the fox spirits chided him.

Tsk tsk, they said, shortly followed by Dorcas' second, sharp imperative.

"Hurry up!"

"Excuse me, but yer th'one came inta m'bath, not th'other way 'round. Now cover yer eyes girly, cause ya dun wanna see m'fat arse."

He had to get partially out of the tub to lean down and pick up the bar of soap from its place on the floor, giving a less than flattering view of his scarred backside. There were a few distinct scars on his back that could not have come from anything but claws, and looked like they'd been put there by someone holding onto him from the front.

With the soap, he started working away on the essentials as casually as if Dorcas were anyone else.

"Anyway fuck 'em. Let 'em think what they want. It's just that Mydjeken kid yer all hung up o'er anyway, ain't it? Ya wanna make 'im jealous, 'ere's yer chance."

He raised his voice. "Y'Hear that Otter? We're havin' SEX'n it's fuckin' GREAT. YEEAAAH!"

The foxes laughed, and so did he.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas did catch an unfortunate glimpse of Chrishton's backside. At his first warning, she had swiftly lifted her hands to cover her eyes, but the action seemed rather childish, and she immediately played it off, rubbing her eyes again and moving her hands aside. Before she could turn her head in a sufficiently nonchalant manner, she caught sight of those scars, and she grimaced in disgust.

Thankfully, though, Dorcas wasn't quite worldly enough to have many ideas as to their origin. He could have gotten a blow job from an overeager wolverine or wrestled a gnome with a particularly nasty bear hug hold, and Dorcas wouldn't have known better. She just saw an aging man's ass with some aged damage. She turned her face away quickly.

The girl hugged her knees to her chest. Her skirt was covered with large damp spots of cold bathwater. She also heard the scuffle of Otter just beyond the door.

A quizzical look crossed her face momentarily when Chrishton offered a chance to make Mydjeken jealous somehow. The look was quickly replaced with a wash of absolute shock when he shouted out to Otter.

At first she sputtered. "No we're not!" she shouted after. Her voice was outraged at first, but by the end of the exclamation it had dissolved into a laugh.

A high pitched sort of squeal came from the other side of the door as well as the cat's yowling protest to this unpleasant disruption. Otter's pattering retreat was thereafter. If Chris hadn't succeeded at his original intent of provoking jealousy, he had at least given their eavesdropper enough gossip to run off with and thus relieved himself and Dorcas of her company.

"Gawd!" exclaimed Dorcas. She held up her hand like a blinder against the sight of him, and also to cover herself as she fought off a smile. "Well . . . I guess you at least bought us some time . . ." Dorcas bit her lip as she smiled at her own sense of humor. "You should still hurry up," she added, not to be mistaken for a lackadaisical runaway.

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton soaped up more quickly than he would have liked, and tossed the soap back onto the floor where it proceeded to spin like a bubbly top. By this point his usual carefree demeanor had returned, assisted in part by the sound of laughter in Dorcas' voice, tempered by tears though it might have been.

"I'm washin', I'm washin'..." he said, splashing water onto his chest and arms. Although he looked and felt much cleaner than before, it was going to take more than this bath to properly clean up. Another dip in the river and a shave were necessary. Too bad Keltaris was in the opposite direction. He was going to have a proper beard by the time he found Cervantes.

"I'm glad if yer comin' with me, Dor. Dun think I ain't. An' dun think I ain't here fer ya, cause I am. Mydj got it easy."

The burly man placed his hands on the edges of the tub and was about to carelessly stand himself up when he thought better of it.

"Ehh... Toss me one o'em towels."

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas kept her gaze low as she glanced around the floor. She realized she was sitting right next to the pile of linens Otter had delivered. Many of the accessories of this home seemed to follow a general pattern--shabby, but clean. The towels themselves were both immaculately clean and of unusually high quality. Dorcas lifted the neat pile to find the towel on the bottom was stained from the wetness and grime of the bathroom floor. She set the towels down again and peeled one off the top.

She squeezed the folded towel in her fingers and observed the contrast of her brittle and dirty fingernails against the towel. The soft cloth's whiteness was detracted from only by the limitations of textile manufacture. They may have never been used. Dorcas lifted her gaze only enough to catch Chris in her periphery so she could aim, and flung the towel in his direction.

She dropped her chin before she could see if her target hit its mark. She slapped the remaining pile once with the heel of her hand as she resigned herself to waiting the few more minutes it would take for Chrishton to towel off and dress himself. " . . . What you mean, 'he's got't easy?'" Dorcas mumbled. She ground her palm against the towels and scowled thoughtfully at the feel of the soft terry.

The girl raised her eyebrows and turned her face in Chrishton's direction while keeping her eyes averted from the sight of him. "I mean . . . I think he broke his face."

[Chrishton Radu]

A quick lean forward which took him halfway out of the tub, and a snap of his wrist caught the towel before it hit the ground. The action sent a wave of water over the edge, but he was keen on not getting the towel dirty. "Thanks."

Chrishton hauled himself out of the tub and started towelling off while keeping himself turned around in order to minimize the mental scarring a wayward glance from her might cause.

"Yeah, well..." He started to respond, then heard the broken face comment, and couldn't help but laugh. " 'S just a broken nose. He'll get better. I done plenty worse fer less, th' lil' shit."

Sufficiently dry, he slowly put his clothes back on, ever cautious not to re-open the wounds from the previous nights or to step too hard on his right foot. Once his pants were on, he faced Dorcas again and spoke while pulling on his shirt.

"Best not tempt fate too much. Sooner I leave this place, safer ya'll be from them guards."

[Dorcas Tansy]

A moment after he caught the towel, Dorcas leapt to her feet to avoid the slosh of bathwater that washed across the floor. For all her bulk, she was spry when she needed to be. All that stomping around was more about posturing than clumsiness. Being on her feet also afforded her the ability to turn bodily away from Chris’s nakedness.

Dorcas lingered with her fingers resting on the door handle as Chris mocked Kenny’s sorry state. She frowned by merely turning her lower lip into her mouth. Chrishton wouldn’t see her hesitation to agree.

His voice was louder when he said “Best not tempt fate . . .” and Dorcas turned to realize he was facing her again and mostly decent. She stared at the scars on his barrelish stomach before he pulled his shirt over himself. What exactly he meant by “tempting fate” wasn’t clear, but Dorcas didn’t question him lest she lose the scraps of nerve allowing her to go ahead with running away.

The girl still had her fingers on the door’s handle. She pressed down and the door creaked open on its own poorly-hung hinges. The air of the hallway outside was different—cooler, brighter—and it swept away the stuffiness of the bathroom. Dorcas paused and looked at Chris.

She looked down at herself. This was how she would leave, then: black skirt, gray stockings, old blue buttoned shirt, unbecoming boots. The cat had placed himself at her feet as well. She wouldn't leave without the cat.

"Let's go," she said, rather hastily. She made her way out the door, leading with a decisive dip of her head. Then she set stomping down the stairs. She knew Chris just well enough to know he wouldn't hesitate to follow. He just didn't seem the type to hesitate, ever.

At the foot of the stairs, Dorcas swung the curtain aside with a wide motion of her arm. She let her gaze sweep the room, and saw Davrib lounging in her seat and picking her teeth. "I'm leaving," Dorcas announced.

Only then did her gaze complete its arc of the room to fall upon the figures of Udorl and Mydjeken sitting on the floor. Udorl looked up at Dorcas wide-eyed, and quickly down at Kenny again. His head was resting on the space just below her bosom that was previously her lap, and was now a lump of pregnancy. Udorl's skirt puffed out around her, and her feet must have been tucked up under herself. She cradled Kenny under the shoulders with one arm while the other hand dabbed at his forehead with a damp cloth. As for the boy himself, he appeared just half conscious: Dorcas's announcement only stirred from him a moan and a weak grasp at the air with his hand, which Udorl regarded with sad sloe eyes.

"Keep. the. books." Dorcas stared at Mydjeken beadily for a few seconds and walked through the room towards the door. It was slightly ajar from Kenny's entrance. She pulled it open and took one large step to the outside, making no backwards glance.

[Chrishton Radu]

Spots of water dabbled his shirt in darker patches of blue and he had to adjust it a few times to make it fit comfortably while so damp. Not big on combs, he used his hand and fingers to pull his dark hair back and get a few of the worse tangles out while it was still wet, if not as clean as it might be.

Let's go

So she was going with him after all. She was iffy before, but he doubted that she would make such a clear cut statement if she planned on retracting it.

A few wisps of orange swirled around his head. We thought you worked alone, they said. Isn't she a little young for you? I liked the other one better. She'd make better kids.

A different spirit interjected. She's already pregnant you idiot. You can't get pregnant twice.

And a third said, Foxes are very sneaky, he could hide one in there.

He's already got a kid, stupid. Why does he need a second?

I thought he had two.

That one isn't his!

What, the one in the pregnant lady?

Chrishton managed to ignore their squabbling while they continued going on about Udorl and Chrishton's broken relationship with Cervantes. It didn't bother him much when it came from them. Somehow he felt as though they could say anything they wanted, because they already knew the truth and they didn't judge him too harshly for it.

More than likely, he thought, they were trying to distract him for some reason or other, and he was not going to let them accomplish that.

We're not trying to distract you. One said, reading his thoughts. Then another, If we wanted to do that, we'd start yelling, like, HEY CHRISHTON PAY ATTENTION TO US! HEEEEY!

Chrishton barely suppressed a growl, and squinted to see past them. Dorcas was already down the stairs and saying goodbye to what was effectively her family. He had nothing to say to them. He didn't know them at all, and while silent emotion filled the room as Dorcas said her last words to Mydjeken, the burly man behind her was completely oblivious.

Once outside, the spirits drifted off and left him alone.

"We'll need some money, horses, 'n pref'rably a wagon. Dun s'pose y've got that lyin' 'round?"

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas and Chrishton had reached the bottom of the short flight of rickety steps that led from the entrance when Udorl poked her head through the still-ajar door. "See you later doday then, eh?" The old woman didn't wait for a response before she shut the door and closed them out.

While Dorcas blinked into the mid-morning light, her cat was the one to take some initiative. He looked left, then right, then turned right and started off on a trot. Several yards away, he looked back at the two with that stern expression of tried patience cats like to take with humans.

Dorcas turned her chin in Chris's direction. She didn't have to look up too far to meet his eye, and she did so darkly. "Shutup . . . you know I've got none of those," she said, but her attitude was nothing to be taken too seriously. She swung her left foot forward and started after her cat. He went on ahead once he saw he was being followed.

The soles of her boots squeaked with each step against the grit that lined the damp cobblestones of the street. It hadn't rained, but it appeared several of the neighbors had emptied various vessels of various contents into the convenient repository of the street. As long as the local plumbing was in working order, nothing too offensive would be lying around. Dorcas slipped slightly on a shred of fruit pulp, but hardly lost a beat in her step. This was all part of the practiced gait of a Marnian. She was assimilating.

"Wot's um . . . Keltaris? 'T'sit like?" Dorcas said over her shoulder. She followed her cat as if he could be trusted to know where they were going. "If it's anythin' like here, at least we shoul' be able t'do without the 'money' aspect, right? That is, creatively?"

[Chrishton Radu]

"Well they mightn't be yers exactly... Gonna 'aveta steal 'em one way or another. 'Less ya feel like blowin 50 bisnahi fer transpertation."

Asking her to steal from her family, even if they did have a horse of their own, which they probably didn't, was not likely to succeed and he knew it. He didn't press the matter. She was not the kind of person he was, and he knew it.

Dorcas' cat, of all things, led the way. Chrishton was perfectly fine with that. It might as well be some cat directing them. Fate was fate, a cat was as good as anything or anyone else.

Unlike Dorcas, Chrishton did not quite fit in with the Marnians. He was big and oafish enough to be a guardsman, but he was not one. Nor was he a farmer or a construction worker, nor did he look quite like a hired goon from the Shanty Town. He was healthy enough and still handsome enough to suggest something other than long term poverty, but his clothes, lack of a shave and his actual economic status were indicative of a peasant of the poorest kind. His accent did not fit in either. If anything, he looked like he'd escaped from the asylum.

His eyes scanned the street for guardsmen while they walked. The wanted poster with his likeness on it was taken down days ago, so the normal citizenry would hopefully think nothing of him, but the guards were another story.

"Ain't like 'ere. Lots nicer. Nicer folks, better food, laws're looser. People got more money o'er there. Kinda snooty, but sure beats these paranoid fucks... Gettin by ain't hard nowhere. Just leave it t'me."