The Shadow Wolf Sagas are a weekly writing exercise that I engage in. The first story arc, Blade Breaker, can be found here. The first story of this arc, Red Fangs, can be found here. The previous week’s post can be found here.
“So you brought Lazar Vintul’s daughter here to die in my shop, that’s great Ragnar, just great,” the Goblin grumbled. waving his hands indignantly.
Berkhilda growled, causing Git to take a step back, but she was too weak to do much more than stay upright. Interestingly, Git’s assistant, the bookish looking one who I always thought he kept around because her looks help sells his goods, did not seem intimidated at all. She kept on mixing the ingredients the Goblin handed to her has he paced and ranted, examining us with quiet interest.
“You know what they do when they are dying, right?” said Git. “You and are are like giant healing potions to her right now.”
“Weren’t you worried about her dying a moment ago?” I asked. “Berkhilda had ample opportunity to bite me on the way here.”
“I hear they don’t like the taste of Twiceborn,” said Git.
“Have you tasted your healing potions?” I asked.
“My healing potions are practically Thraxian Red!” said Git, puffing out his chest. “You drank a salve that one time. Let it go Ragnar.”
“Who keeps salve in a bottle?” I said, grinning when Git wasn’t looking.
Berkhilda was slumped against me, but she was still moving. Git’s assistant finished mixing her concoction and lifted the dull grey bowl to a perch over a blue flame.
“Shouldn’t you be helping guard the twins, instead of this?”
“I’d love nothing more, but the Twins think that their enemies would try to get to them through me, They want me out of the way until the Doxie’s war is over. They have so many guards that the house is practically a barracks now.”
“Ugly business that,” said Git. “Who would have though prostitutes could be so vicious?”
“I will never ceased to be amazed at the oddities that let fly from your lips Git,” I said, shaking my head.
“What stops one of their rivals from taking a contact out on you?”
“The Obsidian tower is sitting this one out, officially, Even the Thirteen don’t want to risk alienating whoever the next leader of the guild is. I suspect they also don’t want to take sides in what could be a prolonged conflict, either.”
“I don’t know Ragnar, people are grumbling.”
“This is Myrrhn, Git, people are always grumbling about something. The Guild will only intervene if one of the sides stops paying the Nightside Tithe. Anyone who is losing that badly will give up and leave the city, rather than risk that.”
“I suppose. It sounds a lot like the poisoners association to be honest.”
“I thought you didn’t sell poison.”
“I don’t. Mostly. I sell antidotes though — helps to know what people are using to keep my stock prepared.”
I nodded. “We almost done? My friend is heavy in all this armour.”
Git looked over to his assistant who nodded poured the contents into a chilled vial. I could smell blood in the vial, which made sense. What else would you use as a base for a cure for a vampire. Git handed me the vial.
“Berkhilda,” I said — loudly. Her head snapped up, eyes meeting mine. I tried to pour it into her mouth for her, but she took the vial on her own and downed it in a single gulp. Git stepped back.
Berkhilda surged upright, standing on her toes, muscles rigid. Her eyes bulged. Her hand squeezed my pauldron. All of a sudden, small puffs of smoke came up from her wounds, and then she relaxed.
“… that was rigorous,” said Berkhilde. “I feel ready for battle though, thank you Ragnar’s friend.”
Before Git could answer there was a loud knocking from the door of his shop.