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Jarmee sat in the smoky tavern hall, alternately entertaining a waitress and a common whore. After having spent nearly a month on the road with Hall, he found himself craving female attention. True, his guide was female, but the one time he'd tried to proposition her it had ended badly. She'd been offended, and reacted lighting his sandals and pants on fire, while he was wearing them.
Then she'd laughed when he threatened to kill her. The sword wouldn't let him, she claimed, although he didn't know if she was serious or not. That had only been the first of many personality clashes; the two didn't get along. She'd frequently described him as an arrogant peacock with an oversized knitting needle, where he just called her a psychotic pyromaniac.
They were both accurate descriptions. Hall had admitted to her insanity upon their first meeting, but hadn't elaborated on it. After a month on the road together, Jarmee knew she'd meant the fact that she had long, involved conversations with herself, took great joy in throwing knives a things - particularly him - and setting things on fire. She never really meant to hurt him, she claimed, he just seemed to be a convenient target.
This was the first time the two had been in a city since they'd left Jarmee's home town. It was his orders to avoid cities, in hopes of avoiding the army of men he was sure would be out looking for him, but he'd found he'd missed it.
He'd especially missed the female aspect of cities, although the two women he was flirting with weren't nearly as classy as the Ladies he was used to. But they were better than nothing, and he had time to kill before Hall got back to the inn.
She'd gone out for supplies a few hours earlier, after dealing with a grizzled sea captain. Her plan now changed from overland to ocean travel, although not the direct voyage Jarmee expected. He'd said he wanted to stay out of sight, and she'd agreed to help, and was doing so by getting them on a ship that was heading out to sea for three months.
That would be a long, lonely time, Jarmee had realized. There probably wouldn't be any women on the ship except for Hall, and she had made her lack of interest in him clear. He had then decided to take advantage of being in a city, even if he was bound to the inn by orders from Hall. The port city contained a garrison of the High King's Guard from Greenwall, who he was certain had orders to find him and eliminate the threat to the current King.
The door to the inn swung open, and a weary looking sailor half-fell in. "Fire," he said in a quietly desperate whisper that caught the attention of everyone within the room. "At the docks. Three ships already gone. We need help..."
Almost as one, every patron in the inn except for Jarmee stood and began to rush towards the door. Their livings were all caught up in the ships at the dock, and no one wanted to see an out of control fire. I should wait here, like Hall said... he reasoned, but one of the men grabbed his shoulder on the way by.
"C'mon, lad, we be needing all the hands we can get!" he'd declared, and Jarmee found himself being whisked away into the crowd. Dragged by the tide of the people running outside, he soon found himself near the docks, not sure what he was doing. He wasn't very close to the blaze, but could see it and the smoke it causes. People run around like enraged hornets protecting their hive, and he was left relatively alone where the docks merged with the bad side of town.
He glanced near the alleys nervously, deciding he ought to head back to the inn and wait for Hall. She'd probably be late, he figured, sitting somewhere and watching the fire. He turned from the alleys he'd been eyeing to head back to his own section of town— And a moment later, someone grab the back of his collar and muffle his mouth with a rag before he could call out. He made an indignant squawk, reaching for his sword, but the hand that had stuffed a rag in his mouth grabbed his wrist.
"It's just me," came Hall's voice. "We have to go."
"Go where...?" he asked, as she released him and he ungagged himself. "And why the Hell did you stick that thing in my mouth?"
"Trying to choke you, but I couldn't get it in far enough." He had no idea if she was joking or not, and decided to let the matter lay. She strode, limping slightly, towards the bad part of town, the part Jarmee had carefully decided to avoid, and he followed in annoyance.
"Where are we going?"
"Docks."
"But Hall, the docks are over there. Y'know, the things that're on fire?" he muttered. She made a noise of disgust.
"Not those docks," she muttered. "Smugglers docks."
"What?"
"Nevermind," she declared, turning a corner. They walked in silence for a few minutes.
"I thought our ship didn't leave for another few days?" he finally asked.
"Plans changed."
Jarmee got the feeling she didn't want to talk about it, but couldn't bite back the curiosity. "How? What happened?" He paused. "You didn't light that fire, did you?"
"Yes."
"Hall!" he stopped and stared at her in horror. "People are probably dying over there, and this whole city is going to be jobless for months!"
"No skin off my back," she said. "Are you coming?"
"How can you be so heartless?" he asked, genuinely shocked, without moving to join her.
"It was an accident," she answered. "Look, I'll explain later, but I've got to get out of this city pretty quickly. Stay if you want, but good luck with the people looking for you."
He clenched his jaw. "How do you accidentally light half the docks on fire?" he demanded.
She sighed. "I was jumped from behind by someone who recognized me as I was lighting a match. I dropped it, it caught. I'd have put it out but was busy trying to not get killed."
"You don't seem very hurt from this alleged fight," he accused. She looked as if she was ready to attack Jarmee, but instead reached down and pulled up one leg of her breeches. He could see a very crudely made splint holding her ankle stiff. He winced, seeing it was swollen and still bloody.
"Satisfied?" she snarled. "Look, we don't have time for this. Ehlarn is busy informing my old friends I'm back in town, and..." She shuddered. "Let's go." She began limping off again, and he followed.
"Who's Ehlarn? Why are you on the run from friends? What is going on?" he asked.
On a whim, she began to explain as they waded through dark streets. "Ex-boyfriend. Captain of the city guard, now," she said. "A complete, utter bastard." She stopped talking while she lead Jarmee inside a rickety looking house. An older woman sat inside.
"Fee?" she demanded. Hall dug into her money pouch, and tossed the old woman a good deal of coins. "Take that hallway-" she pointed- "third door on the left. Back of the closet gives way."
Hall followed the instructions, and Jarmee followed her. "Why did you bring us here?" he asked, as she walked in to a closet and applied her weight to it. Frowning, she ducked back out and reached into a pocket. Producing a match, she soon had enough fire to illuminate the closet. Peering over her head, Jarmee noticed it was empty. She walked back inside, glancing around for something - and found whatever it was. She reached over and appeared to be pulling at something, and the entire back of the closet swung open. She walked in, and Jarmee followed. "Where are we going now?" he asked.
"Out of the city. The tunnel leads under the wall, even if the old bat charges an arm and a leg to use it," she muttered.
"How do you know about this place?" he asked, glancing around at the walls. It was hard to make out details, since the only light came from Hall's match, which was rapidly burning down and would soon be scorching her fingers. The walls appeared to be no more than packed earth; the whole tunnel was clammy to be inside if.
She gave a bitter laugh at that. "You think this is the first time I've left the city in a hurry?"
"Well..." he thought about it. "I have no idea. You've never mentioned anything about it to me, but you've never mentioned your past to me at all."
"Just as well," she muttered, bitterness still clear in her voice, then, "Ow, damnit!" She dropped the match and put it out by stepping on it, then stuck a burnt finger in her mouth and continued walking through the dark, if somewhat slower.
Jarmee could barely make out his guide moving in front of him in the pitch black. They turned a sharp corner once, and he missed and slammed into a wall. She laughed at him, but at least he was able to follow the sound.
It wasn't much farther to the end of the tunnel. It opened into what appeared to be a cave - a huge stone cave. It was very dimly lit, the source coming from what appeared to be the deck of a ship. Glancing around, Jarmee realized this was what Hall had meant by the smuggler's docks; the ocean lapped at the stone. Hall lead the way out of the tunnel and up a plank to the ship's deck.
"Hala, I was starting teh wonder if yeh were goin' teh make it," came a rough voice.
"I be here, Jedrig," Hall answered, in a fake accent. "This be the one I be tellin' yeh about."
A light approached them, and moments later, Jarmee could see the captain Hall had dealt with. He was holding a very small candle, and raised it to examine Jarmee. "This be the Prince?"
"Aye," Hall answered.
"Hall, what's-" Jarmee stopped when Hall kicked his shin, very deliberately.
"Later," she hissed.
"Well, we be leaving now, while th' blaze is still keepin' yehr man busy," Jedrig decided. He then began to call orders in a louder voice, and a seconds later, the deck was abuzz with people. "Yeh can wait below deck," he declared. "Less'n yeh want teh help, Hala."
"I'll go wi' him," Hall said. "Explain ship's rules." He nodded, and handed her the candle, before walking off and bellowing at a few sailors.
"Hall, what's going on? Why are you talking so weird, and why is he calling you Hala? And for God's sake, why did you kick me so hard?" he asked, as they walked. She lead him down a stair case, through a hall way, and into a room that contained a small bed and trunk.
"This is my room, but you'll be using it," she said. "I'm going to be with the crew, signing on with them was the only way Jedrig would let you on board."
"Yeah, speaking of which - you told him who I am!" Jarmee accused.
"Don't worry," she hissed. "He's trustworthy, the rest of the crew won't know, and—you look ill."
A wave of nausea came over Jarmee, as the ship lurched into motion. He stepped forward, stumbled and landed on the bed, and proceeded to be sick. Hall rolled her eyes. "Seasickness usually takes longer than three minutes to set in," she said.
He glared up at her. "I'm—not—seasick!" he muttered, before loosing the rest of his dinner.
"I'd say you are," she said. "It's okay, though, not everyone can adjust to a ship effortlessly." Like me, she added silently, and he sensed it and it only made him more annoyed.
"So," he said, once he stopped heaving, "were you going to answer my questions?"
She shrugged. "This is Jedrig's ship. I've worked with him a good deal before, he'll take my word for things, but he and his crew think my name is Hala."
"Why?"
"It used to be, I just never got around to telling them I changed it. It's probably best if you don't mention it either."
"Why the accent?"
She shrugged. "Jedrig's crew will be more comfortable with me if I sound like them," she explained. "As it is, they'll be suspicious. And they probably won't like you very much."
"Why not?" he asked indignantly, before doubling over clutching his stomach. "And why did you drag me on to this leaky tub?"
"Don't call it that with Jedrig listening," she warned. "The Dove is his pride and joy, and he'll throw you overboard if you insult it. But I figured, he was here, and it would be a good way to get you out of sight for awhile."
"You too," he muttered.
"What?"
"You said the guy who jumped you was an ex-boyfriend. I'm guessing you need to be out of sight for a while too, or at least, out of the city."
"Well, you knew that much. I'm going up to the deck to help out," she declared.
"Wait, ship's rules...?" he asked as she began to leave.
"Don't get in the crew's way. Don't argue with Jedrig, he's in charge—absolute power on the ship, and challenging him is mutiny. Try not to get sick where people can see you, either, they'll laugh themselves silly."
"And don't light any fires," came a voice from the doorway.
Hall and Jarmee both looked up to see a large figure leaning on the door frame. "Cap'n says you light anything on fire, you're swimming back to land."
"Oh, it's you," Hall answered, and Jarmee couldn't tell if she was happy about seeing... whoever... or not. "Jar, this is Harik; he's in First Mate. Rik, this is Jarmin, he's travelling with me for awhile."
It was hard to make out the details of Harik's face with just the flickering candle for light, but he appeared to be leering. "Never thought teh see you wi' a landsman, Hala," he said. "He real good at...?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to head out for some air. Jarmin, you wait here until you stop feeling sick."