Topal

  She needed quiet.

  Even though she was born and raised in Lavote, the wildlands suited her better. It presented its own challenges, but at least solitude was plentiful. In busy city streets, “quiet” spots all had drawbacks. For instance, the closest one she knew of – the inner-city’s sewer outlet.

  When the sewer system was originally built, the outlets dumped their load into streams outside of the city limits. Eventually, the city grew past them and nobody cared to extend the pipes. Instead, they just dug troughs for the shit to flow through and made it longer each time the city overgrew them again.

  The outer city smelled bad under the best circumstances, but the trough was a step above the rest. People would come down when necessary but avoided hanging around them. So, that was where Topal spent her time brooding.

  Her mind wandered, drifting between two things – cursing her naivety and worrying about the future. She ran through every interaction she had with Kevra, trying to find a detail she missed that could have predicted how things would go. Relying on others was always a leap of faith, but she had been so careful. She meticulously negotiated the terms of their agreement to avoid all of the normal ways merchants take advantage of each other.

  One of the first lessons she learned from studying the merchants she protected was that business was based on need. The first step was always figuring out what someone needed, then convincing them you could provide it. She knew that Kevra needed to earn money for the guild, so she pitched herself as an investment, turning her background into an asset. If she was able to earn that much money despite coming from the outer city, imagine what she could do to help the guild once she actually had a license. Sure, she had her own reasons, but she had always tried to emphasize how the guild would benefit from her being a member.

  In the end though, she still needed to trust that he planned to follow through at all. Even if it wasn’t him, she’d have to put that same trust into another guildmaster. No matter how often her mind retraced those steps, getting a license was a path to ruin. She could try again, but how stupid would she have to be to trust anyone else after what happened. There were less savory ways to get a license, but that would defeat the purpose of doing things the “right” way.

  How much time did I waste? A decade of work and what do I have to show for it? Is there even a point to trying again?

  Amidst all of the doubt, the envelope Kevra had given her kept drifting to the front of her mind. Part of her wanted to cut her losses, dump it into the shit, and move on with her life. But no matter how long she held it above the sewage, her fingers wouldn’t let it slip away. Even if she couldn’t trust him to follow through on paying her, the amount he promised was too ridiculous to ignore.

  So instead, she just sat there looking at it.

  The alarm bells ringing in the distance broke through her paralysis. First one, then another, until dozens were tolling across the city. None of the barracks close to her rang, so she knew she was safe for the time being, but the sound still chilled her to the bone.

  Even if she decided to not try for her license again, the lessons she learned about being a merchant were still useful. Her first priority should be gathering information.

  Cracking the seal on the envelope, she found an odd looking handbill for bounty hunters. Normally, handbills were for single criminals with their names, a rough sketch, and their crimes. This one had a list of about a dozen names split into three priority levels.

  At the very top of the page, was a large headline: Yol’s chains have been abused and turned on those they were meant to protect. From this day forward, the following are traitors to mankind and wanted for their crimes. By the decree of Heaven Emperor Gongphaha, they will face the flames of justice. Payment will be made upon their delivery to the Lords’ Residence in Lavote.

  The highest priority held only one name, significantly larger than the rest – Akil Vor. Topal didn’t recognize it off the top of her head, but one of his aliases did – the “the Advocate’s Guillotine.” She had heard countless stories of the Guillotine’s brutality, even if they were only vague whispers. His bounty was 30,000 Fuvre alive and 15,000 dead.

  The second tier held four names that shared a last name – Yelma, the Voice’s family. Their bounty was 15,000 Fuvre a head, dead or alive. The only exception was Lovu Yelma, worth 20,000 if captured alive.

  The lowest tier were various Lords and their family members that Topal didn’t recognize beyond the family names. Each was worth 7,500 Fuvre dead or alive.

  She had tried bounty hunting in the past but gave it up after just one job. Some criminals with bounties on their heads were genuine monsters, but most weren’t much different from her. Unlucky folks who ended up on the wrong side of someone rich enough to pay for their death.

  It still felt wrong, but the numbers were enough to make her salivate and the fact that they were only hunting nobles was almost too good to be true. Scoring even a single low priority target would make her dreams come true.

  That was when she heard the shouts of other people stirring in the streets above the trough. Calls to arms rang out, rapidly moving toward the city center. Reality set back in quickly.

  Kevra said I’m not the only person who got the job. I could stand having one or two nobles’ blood on my hands, but how many other people will I have to kill just to deliver the body. And even if I do, who’s to say they’ll honor the deal. There’s an even chance I’ll be killed on sight as soon as I step into the inner city. This whole thing could be a ploy to root out people willing to lay hands on the nobility.

  “Of course, it’s too good to be true,” she sighed under her breath as she sank back down to the ground. Despite her resignation, she still wondered about the job, turning over possible plans in her mind. None changed the facts of her situation, but the dancing visions of sacks of money wouldn’t let her mind go completely still.

  After a while, she started to hear the sounds of someone in the sewer. Her mind stood on alert as it grew louder and louder until she saw a hooded figure step up to the bars blocking the exit. As she watched them push their way out and plummet into the river of shit below, her guard dropped completely. Whoever they were, they posed her no threat.

  The sputtering shape gagged and flailed as he dragged himself to solid ground. Despite the film covering him, she could see light, flowing clothes beneath his cloak and the tell-tale tattoos around his head that denoted Advocates.

  He was clearly a noble of some sort and something about his face rang a bell in Topal’s mind. He wasn’t just any Advocate, he was the one leading the feast by the guildhall. As soon as the recognition clicked, the man started throwing up on the ground.

  Vomit was never an elegant affair, but the man somehow managed to act delicate and frail even while emptying his guts on the ground. He moved as little as possible, but every gesture felt planned and poised. Once he finished, he even daintily lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face.

  “If you’re gonna make a mess, at least do it in the fertilizer. People walk up here,” she called out mockingly.

  She didn’t have the full details of what was going on, but she wasn’t dumb. Clearly, some kind of coup was happening in the inner-city and the insurrectionists were recruiting Scars to clean up loose ends. This man was obviously fleeing it, meaning he was likely one of the targets from the handbill.

  The biggest payday of her life may have just fallen into her lap.

  “O-oh, pardon me,” the man said, quickly pulling himself to his feet. Just as elegantly as before, he gently scraped the vomit into the trough and turned to look at her. “Is that better?”

  Of all the responses she could have predicted, him cleaning up after himself wasn’t anywhere on the map.

  What’s his deal? He looks like I could take him on one-handed. Is he trying to talk his way out of this?

  As if reading her mind, the man immediately softened and smiled at her.

  “I’m sorry for causing a mess,” he said with a bow. “I will be careful not to make that mistake again. You have a wonderful night.”

  He turned on his heels, pulled up the hood of the cloak, and dumped a fresh load of slop on his head before keeling over to vomit again.

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  As far as she could tell, he was one of the most pathetic excuses for a human being she had ever seen, but the way he carried himself still exuded a quiet confidence. It was enough to drive her cautious mind crazy.

  “Ah… my bad,” he said, once again throwing her for a loop as he cleaned up his new mess before calmly turning to walk away again. She knew she had to make a move and had just begun to shift to her feet when he turned back.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be a Scar, would you?” he asked, sending a spike of irritation through her mind. Even though she didn’t mind the term “Scar” on its own, it always pissed her off when someone from the inner-city used it.

  “Maybe I am. What does it matter?”

  “My apologies if I caused offense, I have simply never met a Scar before,” he said after flinching away from her response. She had never heard a noble apologize in earnest, but his act was almost convincing enough to make her think he meant it. “I am quite lost and could use some directions. Do you know how to reach the Vor Highway? I know it should be on this side of the city, but do not know the area well.”

  “The Highway?” Highways were the safest paths between major cities, but that also meant they were the most travelled.

  He’s clearly on the run, so why would he go there? He’ll get caught immediately. Does he have some kind of plan to get out?

  “Yes ma’am, I plan on meeting a friend there. Do you know the way?”

  The simple smile on his face told her that he had no clue what he was walking into. At that rate, the bounty would be going to the first person to find him by chance…

  Might as well be me.

  “Fuck it,” she said, walking past him. “Follow me.”

  “Thank you so much! You have no clue how much this means to me,” he said, dashing after her. “My name is Lovu, what’s yours?”

  One of the Yelmas! The one with an extra award for bringing him in alive, too!

  “No names,” she spat back at him, trying to keep her heart from jumping out of her chest. Her excitement was part of it, but there was something else underneath.

  Don’t think about a name. Just get him where you need to go, get your money, and move on. Focus on the path ahead.

  *** *** ***

  It could never be that easy, could it?

  Just as she expected, the streets were crawling with hungry eyes. Not just other Scars on the prowl for the bounty, but Honors too. Within minutes of leaving the sewer outlet, they were already having to dip and duck between alleys to avoid being caught. All that combined with Lovu’s suicidal attraction to Honors meant there was no shot they’d make it all the way back to the Lords’ Residence. Luckily, Topal had another idea - make the Residence come to them.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t-” Kut said chidingly as Topal dragged Lovu into the Roots.

  “Not the time,” she said. “I got a job. Where’s the old man?”

  “He’s not gonna be happy after how you-” Kut couldn’t finish the thought before breaking into a coughing fit. Even the sudden turn of luck wasn’t enough to force Topal’s regrets out of mind when they were shoved back in her face like that.

  “You done?” she asked as soon as Kut recovered enough to speak.

  “Yeah…”

  “Good. Take him into one of the back rooms and keep an eye on him. I’ll go talk to Ingfe.”

  “Got it. Upstairs,” she said, before setting her eyes on Lovu. “You got claims?”

  Kut knew better than to touch someone else’s mark. That was an easy way to get killed normally, but luckily all Topal cared about was his head. The rest of his belongings were fair game. “I need him in one piece.”

  From there, she ran upstairs two steps at a time and threw open the door to Ingfe’s office. She found him hunched over his desk, staring down at another copy of the handbill.

  Good. That will make this easier.

  “I found one,” she said quietly, shutting the door behind her.

  Ingfe stiffened but didn’t look up from the paper. “I wasn’t planning on telling you about it.”

  Even without saying it, she knew what he was thinking because she had gone through the same process already. The money was enticing, but far from risk-free.

  “I wasn’t planning on taking part, but he fell into my lap. The streets are crawling with eyes though. It’ll be safer to send a messenger out to whoever is making good on the bounty and have them come pick him up. Can you set it up?”

  “Who is it?” he asked, still not looking up.

  “Lovu Yelma. The prince with the extra bounty for bringing him in alive”

  “He’s here?”

  “Kut’s keeping him out of sight.”

  “Fuck…” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The gears were turning, but she knew exactly where he’d end up – 20,000 Fuvre was too much to pass up, even with all the red flags. “I’ll send a letter.”

  “Thanks,” she said, dragging a stool over and slumping over beside him while he wrote. Her body was torn between wanting to jump out of her own skin and just go to sleep from the day’s whiplash.

  Once he finished his message, he dripped a bit of wax on to seal it and daintily blew until it was cool. As soon as he knew it was secure, he hit her lightly on the head with it. “Give this to any of the runners outside and tell them to go to Kirewe.”

  Of the orphans he looked out for, most spent the day running errands and Kirewe must have been one of his contacts in the inner-city. She reached up to take it, but he held firm for a second.

  “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes. “I just want to make sure you don’t go knocking it into things when you don’t gotta.”

  In the sixteen years she had known Ingfe, she could count the number of compliments she had heard him give out on one hand. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the most she could ever hope for.

  “You’re the one who made sure I stayed sharp,” she said, taking the letter with a smile.

  “So, what’s the kid like?” he asked, rushing past the sentimental moment as quickly as possible.

  “Weird, and he’s not a kid. He can’t be much younger than me,” she said, explaining how Lovu ran into her. “To be honest, he doesn’t seem very princely. The fucking guild master that ripped me off had a tenth the status but ten times the bite to him. I bet you could punch the prince in the face and he’d apologize for getting in your way. It’s… weird.”

  “Probably just trying to get you to take pity on him.”

  “Maybe. Even someone that up their own ass should have the sense to know when they’re fucked. It’d fit for an Advocate to lie to serve their own needs.”

  They sat in silence for a moment as her mind wandered again.

  Or we’re about to send the one decent noble in existence to his death.

  Now that the murder weapon was in her hands, her apprehensions about bounty hunting came surging back.

  “You should probably hurry down,” he said, shuffling toward the door. “The longer we have him here, the more likely shit will come down on our heads.”

  “Yeah… I’ll go pass it on,” she said, following him down stairs.

  Her eyes immediately drifted toward the front door. All she had to do was hand over the letter and wait. It was almost out of her hands, but a faint voice in the back of her mind was telling her otherwise. For some reason, she had the urge to go check the back room first.

  “Gimme one sec,” she said, leaving Ingfe at the bar.

  She threw open the door and found Kut sitting there with a huge smile on her face. “Me and the old man figured everything out,” Topal said, nodding for her to leave. “You’re good to head back out. I’ll watch him.”

  For some reason, upon hearing that, Kut looked at Lovu in apprehension. The faint feeling Topal had before turned to anxiety as she bristled. “What happened?”

  “He healed my lungs,” Kut said.

  “Not completely,” Lovu said, cutting in. “She’ll need a temple, but I helped cut it back a bit.”

  “You didn’t make a deal or anything, did you?” she asked Kut, worried she had done something to complicate things.

  “He said it was free.”

  What the fuck is he up to?

  She had already been burnt once that day for acting without understanding someone else’s goals. There was no way that was going to happen again. Signaling Kut to leave the room, she stepped forward and pinned Lovu’s cloak to his stool with the heel of her boot, intentionally edging as close to his groin as possible to make it clear what would happen if he was fucking with her.

  “What’s your angle?” she asked, staring straight into his eyes.

  “My what?” Sure enough, he just flinched away from her.

  “Your deal, your goal, whatever you want to call it. Why’d you heal her?” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer.

  “Because she’s sick! As an Advocate, it is my duty to care for all of Fam’e’s children. I couldn’t just sit there and listen to her suffer.”

  There was no reason for her to believe him. Advocates didn’t go around healing people for free. Nobles didn’t care about anybody below them and the Voice’s family didn’t go around cowering under a commoner’s heel. But still, her instincts told her that he was telling the truth. And if he was, then she was about to make a huge mistake.

  Alright. Change of plans.

  Letting him go, she took Kut’s old seat and stared him down. “I saw you at the big feast today. You’re a Yelma, aren’t you.”

  “I… I am.”

  “Where’re you trying to get to? Long term, I mean. Getting on the Highway’s just a starting point, so what’s your plan after that?”

  “Lord Vor’s estate in Kamvor. They are old friends of my family, so I trust they will be able to help me.”

  The Vors? Not a bad idea, but are they really his best bet?

  “Is the Voice still alive?” she asked cautiously, still trying to understand the full scope of his situation.

  “I… don’t know. The last I saw, the Palace was in flames, but I am sure he had secret exits that he could have used.”

  “But even if he wasn’t, would Lord Vor give a reward for your safe arrival at his estate?”

  “Yes!” he said, standing up suddenly. “And if he isn’t able to spare enough to make it worth your while, I’ll personally pay you from my family’s coffers once I have access to them again. Would you be able to help me get there?”

  “I could…”

  Turning him in is practically guaranteed money now that I have the letter. I might be throwing that all away right now… but a personal favor from a prince would be more than enough to get around the guild’s tricks. If anything, this is an even better deal. Right?

  “Come on,” she said, standing with a sigh, “let’s get you out of here.”

  “Wait, but I thought we were waiting on a friend of yours to come help?” he asked, completely lost.

  “Change of plans. If you’re aiming for Kamvor, it’ll be safest to avoid the Highway altogether. I’ll take you on my own.”

  “But what about-”

  “No more questions. The longer we wait here, the harder it’ll be.”

  “O-okay then,” he said, following her to the door. As they stepped out into the hallway, Topal saw Kut standing there with a questioning look on her face.

  “We’re going,” she said, keeping things short and sweet. “Tell Ingfe there’s a change of plans.”

  Kut gave her a questioning look but nodded and started to run off. Luckily, Topal decided to give Lovu a once over before she got more than a few steps away. His hand was lighter than when she left him, so she caught Kut by the arm.

  “This’ll be a bigger score than I thought. Let’s keep things even,” she said, eyeing one of the little hidden pockets she knew Kut had sewn into her clothes.

  “But-”

  “No buts. Give it back.”

  Kut pouted and pulled out the ring he was missing.

  “When did you-?” Lovu asked, his mouth agape.

  “When we shook hands,” she said, handing it over. “Thanks for the magic though.”

  “I…”

  “Come on,” Topal said, dragging him toward the Root’s back door. Bracing for a long night, she readied herself to step out into the alley, before realizing they wouldn’t have much time for peace after that. She turned back to look him in the eyes. “You said your name was Lovu, right?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Topal,” she said, extending her hand with the best merchant smile she could muster. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”