Be Thou My Good: Chapter 7 (Patreon)

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Chapter Seven: The Night is Dark…

I stepped backwards, letting the woman’s knife whip through the air in front of my face. If she hadn’t been surprised by my sudden appearance, I’d be out a nose.

“How rude.” She was a better fighter than me. “Didn’t your mother teach you better?”

She F-Flowed past me. It was as if I’d blinked and she’d slipped into another place as if she were a river, rather than a human being.

That place, of course, being behind my back. “Nope!”

I took a quick step forward, spinning as a blade severed a few thin strands of hair. Before I could so much as move again, she was in front of me, forearm braced against my collarbone and my back shoved hard against the nearest wall.

This close, I could finally get a better look at her. The woman was grinning beneath her long scarf, almond shaped eyes pulling up at the corners in a way that reminded me almost painfully of Lisa. Or Imp.

“So,” she said. “Come here often?”

Imp it was then.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I raised an eyebrow. “Unless you make it a habit to sneak into military camps?”

“Hey.” The women shrugged. “You don't know where I've been.”

I gave her a quick once over, eyes tracking down the travel worn but well cared for tunic and Leathers she wore. “Evidently not very far.”

The woman scoffed, taking a step back in sliding her knife back into its sheath. “Now that's rude .” This time she examined me, and I got the sense she enjoyed the act of raking her hazel eyes up and down my form like I was a display piece. Her gaze lingered on my arm.“Now you've been around the block.”

I rolled my eyes. If she expected me to be put off by that, she should have seen Brockton Bay.

“Anyway,” I said. “I assume you want to see the Squire?”

“Now where did you get an idea like that?” the woman gave a guileless grin.

“Because you're here.” I raised an eyebrow at her period “So are you here to kill her, or can we actually expect a helping… hand?” God knew we could use one right now about now.

She laughed. “Me, here to help?” She chortled again slapping, slapping her thigh. “Now there's a good joke!”

I tilted my head back and forth. “Kill her then?”

“You gonna do something about it?” She gave a playful grin. Upon closer examination, I got the sense that she was a bit younger than I'd initially thought. Closer to Catherine's age than mine.

She certainly acted it.

“Well, the soldiers might have something to say about it.”

“Like any of them would just happen to stumble across me like you did.” She winked. “been awhile since someone's managed to get the drop on me. Too bad you couldn’t stop me from ripping your throat out if I really wanted to, huh?”

Still, having said that, she took a step back, spinning her knife once before sliding it back into its sheath next to its twin.

Now it was my turn to chuckle. “No I suppose I couldn’t.” I stretched working my neck slightly. “So, ready to get going then? Or should I pretend I didn’t stumble across you here while you plan your dramatic entrance?”

“… Just take all the fun out of it why don't you .”

Well, that wasn’t a ‘no’. With a shrug I started back towards the center of the town. In a second, I got the sense that the young woman was following me.

I couldn’t here her footsteps.

She waited for about a street and a half before interrupting me. “I'm Archer, by the way.”

From her cadence, I figured she expected me to jump. But then, shadowing someone silently was a still a ways off for making them forget your entire existence before hopping out of a closet at them .

While you are at their older brother’s house.

Right after getting out of his bed.

I smiled, letting out another small laugh at the memories that only now, a lifetime in a world away, could be viewed as fond. “I'm Taylor,” I said.

I glanced over my shoulder at Archer. She pouted at me briefly, upset that she hadn't gotten her little jump scare, before putting on another laid-back grin and folding her arms behind her head. “Hmmm, close but not quite.”

That one did get a jump out of me. I paused for almost half a step, before recovering my stride.

If she hadn't said anything, I might not have noticed it at all. I shook my head. “And here I had you pegged as the devil may care type.”

She just smirked, I gathered it was her default setting. “So? You're going to tell me your real Name?”

I sucked in a deep breath, looking up at the bloody moon above. “Tell you what, you'll be the first one to know after I figure it out for myself.”

“Oooh.” I could hear the smile in Archer's voice. “Sounds like a date.”

I allowed myself a wan smile. “Oh, you and Foundling are going to get along like a house on fire.”

After all, I had been around enough happy go lucky people to tell when someone was just being an incorrigible flirt. Catherine Foundling, on the other hand, would probably be much more appreciative of the attention than me, or at least, she would be if she wasn't already dating that red headed mage girl.

‘Killingham’ or whatever her name was.

“All of my best relationships end in flames,” Archer said. She started humming a jaunty tune, coming up to stand by my side as we walked down the street. Still, she let herself be distracted easily enough, which was how I knew she was actually just flirting with me because it was what the girl did. “You one of hers then?” She smirked at me from the corner of her eye. “Can’t say I’m impressed.”

I smiled.

Child, I have killed gods.

Of course, there really wasn't any point in bragging about that. Not the least of which because I've gotten myself shot in the head for my troubles. The funny thing though, was that out of everyone I had met in this world so far, Archer seemed most likely to actually believe me.

Well other than Masego, but that would only be because he'd go out of his way to verify it empirically.

Aloud I just said, “Here we are.”

“Huh.” Archer looked up at the governor's mansion. “Nice digs.”

“The tea party will have to wait until after we deal with the demon.” I led her through one of the side doors, a single legionary giving me a brief look before standing aside. “But other than that, I'm sure Squire will be more than happy to see to your accommodations.”

“Demon?” Archer asked. “Sounds like a fun time.”

She sounded much more like she meant it than I was comfortable with. If I were being honest with myself.

As a paragon of self-deception, I simply shrugged. “If you're looking for a scrap, we could always use another bow on the wall.” I glanced down at the hilts at her waist. “Or a pair of daggers with the scouts. They are great people, mostly goblins, sociopaths, you know. I feel like you’d get along with them great.”

I’d made it a few steps up the stairs before I noticed that Archer wasn’t following me. I glanced back over my shoulder, to see her giving me a strange expression. “Man,” she said. “Been a while since I’ve heard that from someone who actually meant it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “They really are good people.” I flashed the small dagger at my waist. “One of them even showed me how to gut a man with this.”

“Oh?” Her smirk returned. “Then why didn’t you try it on me?”

“Well, for one, you’re a woman.”

She fluttered her lashes at me. “So you noticed.”

I snorted. “And also, if I went from my knife you would have opened me to my collar bone, instead of just pinning me with it.”

“Well.” She moved past me up the stairs, smiling like a cat that got the cream. “As long as you’re honest about it.”

I rolled my eyes fondly, like Imp indeed.

I wondered, if Catherine was me, and this girl was Imp, and Hakram was Brian, who was Regent?

Masego? No, no, the comparison was already starting to fall apart. There were superficial similarities there, but vanishingly few of them when you got deeper.

Which was a good thing. I’d prefer to take part in a story that wasn’t just a reskin of my own.

I knew how that one ended.

“The other way, Archer,” I said as I reached the top of the stairs. She’d turned towards the wrong set of doors.

The girl was back at my side before I could take a step. “I knew that.” She folded her arms behind her head. “Just getting a look around. It’s important to have your bearings after all.”

I brushed off the egregious lie with the ease of long practice. “I’d appreciate it if you refrained from knifing anyone after we go inside.”

“Oh?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Scared for little old me?”

“Hardly.” I quirked my lip. “But Squire might end up stabbing me, after you make your daring escape from the most convenient second story window.”

She gave a little gasp, placing a hand on her chest. “You think I’d be so uncouth as to shatter a window?”

“Why, yes,” I said. “Yes, I think I do.”

Archer grinned, punching me in my shoulder hard enough to bruise. “Got it in one!”

This time, it was rather my absurd pain tolerance that kept me from flinching. Ah, Bakuda, you were the most helpful nemesis I’d ever had.

I knocked on the door, before pushing it open. “Squire.” I took in the room as I stepped inside. Catherine Foundling was leaning against the table in the center of the room, conferring with Masego, while Hakram was half slumped in a large chair, looking worn, but still attentive. “Someone was looking for—”

Archer threw the door wide open, grin plastered on her face. “Hey there.” She waltzed into the room like she owned the place, even as I sighed. Squire drew up to her full height, such as it was, hand going to the hilt of her sword. “Who the hells are you?”

Archer just flapped a hand at the other girl, snagging up a cask of wine that had been left out and taking a drink from it. “Oh, you know, just someone dropping by.”

She started scrounging for food, even as Masego took a step back, raising a hand that carved a blinding pattern of runes in the air. There was a flash, and one of Archer’s knives cut deep into the table, quivering halfway between Masego and Catherine.

“And stop charging the Web of Lightning, love, before I have to get serious.”

Catherine stayed tense for a moment longer, but then Archer gave a happy little squeal, reaching into a cupboard to pull out half a loaf of bread. Catherine pinched her nose as she turned to look at me. “And who the hell is this, again?”

I shrugged. “Archer, apparently. She has business with you.”

“You know.” Archer said with her mouth full. “I never actually said I was here to speak with her.”

Catherine turned a glare on me.

I just raised an eyebrow. “Of course, she’s here to talk with you, Foundling. She’s just being a bitch.”

Archer laughed, washing down the rest of her bread with the rest of the wine, such was the way of things, before tossing herself into the nearest chair and kicking her feet up on the table. “Spoilsport.”

“If you need some sport,” I said. “There’ll be more than enough game to shoot in another few hours. You know, the demon, and the devils, possible some corrupted horsemen.”

Archer actually looked tempted by that for a second. Was she a bit of a battle maniac as well then? She’d be right at home.

Still, she just waved a hand. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she said. “But actually, I’m here to pick up Hunter.”

Catherine blinked. “The Hunter?”

Archer nodded. “Heard you roughed him up a bit, the Lady wants him back.”

Catherine drummed her fingers on the table as I set about getting some food for myself as well. Hakram, bless him, assisted in cutting it. “When do I get a hand like that, Masego?”

“Ten questions,” the boy immediately replied as he took a plate of some sausage and cheese. “And I won’t have time until after the demon, either way.”

I gave him a doleful look. “I rue the day I unleashed this monster.”

Hakram chuckled, even as Masego gave an unapologetic shrug.

On the other side of the room, Catherine was still working through her response. “Hunter was with the Lone Swordsman. Don't think I’m just going to hand over a known hero because the lady of the Lake said pretty please.”

I blinked at the appellation, mouthing ‘lady of the Lake’ at Hakram.

“Ranger,” he said quietly. “One of the Calamities.” One of the Black Knight’s own. It would explain why they got to talking so quickly then.

So, ‘lady’ wasn't her Name. Still, Lady of the Lake? Squire? the only thing that was missing was the Sword in the Stone.

“Oh, believe me.” Archer laughed. “If the Lady were here, she wouldn’t be asking.”

“She's not here though.” Foundling crossed her arms. “That suggests that this isn't the most important thing to her, doesn’t it?”

Archer shrugged. “I don't go out of my way to guess what's on her mind,” the girl said easily. “Still, that's what I'm here for.”

Catherine bit back her initial response, before letting out a deep breath. “I’m not going to let a hero run around unsupervised. Not when I’ve got a city to defend.” She gave Archer a sharp look. “I’ve half a mind to turn you out of here as well.”

Archer spread her arms, as if to say, ‘if you think your woman enough’.

Catherine flicked a glance towards me.

I shrugged. “She could have killed me easily enough.” Not that it was saying much. I was decent enough in a scrap, but I was down an arm and, unless I missed my guess, she’d used an aspect on me in our brief fight.

Now, that should put her at a disadvantage here, but then, she’d also started up a friendly conversation and we’d all gotten to eating. So really, whoever drew first would probably be the loser here, numbers be dammed.

After a moment, Catherine sighed. “Weeping Heavens, if you’re going to come into my house and drink my booze, at least we can get started on the good stuff.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Archer raised her—now empty—wine cask with a cheer.

Catherine gave a quick word to a waiting legionary as Hakram pulled out the cups and a clay bottle of something that smelled strong. “Arragh,” he said at my questioning glance. “Usually, we don’t break it out for the likes of you ‘smooth skins’.” He flashed a slight hint of fang to show it was a joke, and I gave a slight laugh.

“Does that mean it will blind me?”

He shrugged, pouring me a cup. “Would you like to see?”

“That was awful,” I said, even as Archer gave another laugh.

Catherine came back to see the lot of us all passing around glasses of the stuff and fixed Hakram with a petulant glare. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Saving it for a proper occasion, Cat.” The man quickly passed her a cup of her own. And if it had a few drops more than the rest of ours, well, no one said anything.

“Hey, why does she get more?”

Well, no one that mattered, anyway.

Catherine sighed, taking the cup and throwing it back. “Burning Heavens that kicks.”

A few moments later, a soldier came in with a light supper prepared for the lot of us. I raised an eye at Catherine as she got started on a second cup. She frowned at me defensively. “It was time for a break.”

I sighed. “I’m sure.”

Hakram chuckled at Catherine’s aggrieved expression.

“Don’t worry.” I took a plate of food. “I’m not mad, Squire, just… disappointed.”

She let out an indignant sound as I threw my own cup back. It hit me in the stomach like a bullet, and I coughed. “Jesus Christ.”

“Did you go blind, Taylor.”

I rubbed my head, taking some food for myself. “Ask me in the morning.” I shot a dry look at Hakram. “what do you put in that stuff, Goblin Fire.”

“No, but I’ve known of a clan that tried.”

I rubbed my brow, even as Archer cackled and Catherine gave me a challenging grin.

“Figures you can’t hold your liquor.” She threw back another cup. “Woof, that’s the stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. What was it with sixteen-year-olds and alcohol? If Catherine was born in my world, I bet she’d have been a smoker too.

“You can divvy up my share of the bottle then.” I started in on the food. It wasn’t much better than we’d had on the road, but at least it was warm this time.

“Oh, oh!” Archer held out her cup. “Pick me!”

With a courteous smile, Hakram topped her off, going back around the table. Masego hadn’t bothered with his first cup yet, and I poured myself some water from a waiting carafe.

It was good, I thought, to have a moment or two like this before the monsters came.

Then Archer let out a massive belch.