Haldred Chronicles: Alyssa (9 page)

“Repayment?”

Gretna smiled
slyly, as the fox smiles before the chicken coop.

“Oh,” said
Alyssa, the dawn of realisation creeping over her face.  “Oh dear.”

“Tomorrow night,
corset and something tight.” ordered the dwarf, before turning on her heel and
marching back into the kitchen.

Katy raised an
eyebrow.

“Don't ask.”
said Alyssa.

Just then the
tavern's door swung open with a bang and a panting figure in a brown work cloak
entered.  All eyes turned.

“Am I too late?”
asked the figure as he pulled his hood back and looked around the dining room.

Alyssa's face
lit up.

“James!” she
squealed before leaping from her chair for him, grabbing him in a bear hug.

She stopped
herself rather abruptly.

Well, I'm an
idiot.

She let him go,
blushing fiercely

“Ah, sorry.” She
fixed her glasses again.  “I mean, so glad you could make it.”

“My pleasure.”
replied James, more than a little taken aback but certainly not complaining. 
Katy was busy looking at both of them with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Oh, sorry
Katy.  This is James.  James, this is Katy.”

“Hello.” The two
of them shook hands.

“Hey.” returned
Katy.  “Your boyfriend?”

Both James and
Alyssa coughed at the same time, before laughing nervously.  Katy rolled her
eyes.      

“Kids these
days.” she muttered with a smirk before turning to head over to the kitchen and
help with the clean up.  Giving the two would be lovers some time alone.

Alyssa smiled
broadly and James had the good sense to melt before it.

“So glad you
could make it,” she said, feeling her cheeks still burning (one of the few
feelings she could still enjoy).

“Glad I could
come,” he said.  “Sorry I wasn't here earlier.  Work was hard today.”

I'm not sorry
you arrived late
thought Alyssa. 
You just missed me having a freaking heart
attack!

“It was busy
here too.”

No point in
lying.

“Ah, grab
yourself a drink.” she advised, gesturing over to the bar.  “I've just to clean
up and then we can....talk.”

She suppressed
the urge to giggle.

Y
ou're an
adult now!

A little while
later the tavern was more or less cleared, the stragglers taking the hint and
getting ready to leave. Alyssa asked for a little time with James, which Gretna
duly agreed to.  With a little reminder of her obligations for the next night
of course
(“no excuses!”
).

At last, she sat
down opposite him with a drink of water (
safe choice)
, he with a mug of
cider.

He was still
looking nervous but managed to smile sweetly.

“Hey.” she said,
flashing him a smile in return.

He beamed,
grinning broadly.

“Hey.”

They sat in
silence (as silent as a tavern at clear up time can be).  Neither one of them
was entirely sure how to proceed.

“We're bonding
aren't we?” said James at length.

Alyssa's smile
grew.  She beckoned him to lean forward.  He, a little unsure, complied.  He
was rewarded with a kiss on the lips.  His breathing was quick and she could
practically feel his heart beating.  She leaned back a little. 

“Are we ok?” she
asked with a sly smile, enjoying once again being the more experienced
one
of the relationship.

“Oh yeah.” he
managed with a grin.  They kissed again, much longer this time.

When they did
break it off she found his eyes closed and a very goofy grin plastered over his
face.

You poor sap,
she thought.
 Falling in
love with a vampire.  Well I can't really talk.  I'm falling in love with a
human.

She was suddenly
aware of someone watching.  She glanced across to find Katy staring, her head
cocked to one side with a very silly smile on her face.

“Do you mind?”
said Alyssa, not unkindly, returning the girls smile.

“You guys make a
cute couple.” observed Katy, maintaining her smile.

“Thanks.” 
Alyssa thought for a second.  “I've a favour to ask.”

She stood from
the table.  James didn't seem to notice, he was leaning on one hand, eyes
closed, breathing steadily and still displaying a silly smile.  She wondered if
that was the result of some vampiric power she was unaware of or if it was just
his reaction to being kissed by a girl.  Either way it was cute.

“Can you help me
tomorrow night?” she asked Katy  “I'll need someone to help me into the, ah...”
she stumbled for words, not liking the idea of wearing a...

“Corset?” Katy
finished the thought and sentence for her.

“Yeah.” Alyssa
grimaced, pushing her glasses up again.  She was not looking forward to the
experience.  Both putting on and wearing.  She had not worn one before but she
had an unpleasant mental image mapped out, which wasn't helping her confidence.

Katy agreed to
pop round tomorrow night before work.

“I take it you
have a corset?”

“I will have by
then.”

“Well, we could
go shopping together if you like?” suggested Katy, trying her best to make
Alyssa feel better about her impending embarrassment.  “Find you something half
nice?”

If only
thought Alyssa

“Thanks but I've
other stuff to do tomorrow.  I'll probably just be picking one up whenever.”

In other words
she would not be going shopping in the explosion-inducing sunlight.

What she would
be doing instead is waiting until darkness then slipping out of her house, and
more or less breaking into one of the local shops.  If all went well she would
grab whatever fitted her, leave some money for the corset (and a tip) and slip
back home before Katy arrived.

She liked to
call it 'Creative Shopping'.  It wasn't stealing if you paid for it now, was
it?  It was still breaking and entering but you couldn't have everything your
way.

James stirred,
rubbing his eyes.  He looked up at the two girls and jumped in fright.

“Did I fall
asleep?” he asked, sudden concern written all over his face.

Alyssa smiled
back.  “Well it is late.  We're almost closed.  Maybe you want to continue
chatting at mine?”

“Your...house?” 
he looked very much like steam should be coming out of his ears but thankfully
not.  Katy cast Alyssa a sideways look.

“Don't think
he's ready for that yet.” she whispered.

Alyssa caught
herself.

“Ah, I...I
didn't mean
that
!” she stammered but Katy had already slunk off back to
finish off in the kitchen, leaving Alyssa feeling as embarrassed as James.

W
e're as bad
as each other.

“Think we'll
just walk home.” she suggested.  “Save you and I saying anything else that
might be misinterpreted.”

Alyssa and Katy
finished the clean-up, James waiting patiently by the bar with a complimentary
drink of water.  Gretna had given her approval (
“Aye, he'll do.”
) so it
was safe enough for him to wait.  All was closed off and packed away, the few
remaining kitchen girls of the tavern slipping away one by one.

The night had
one more trick to pull as everyone donned cloaks and made to leave.  It was
Gretna who made the discovery.

“Girls?” Gretna
called over to the youngsters assembled by the door.

Katy, James and
Alyssa looked over.  James had the good sense not to correct Gretna that he
was, in fact, a man.  Gretna was frowning, as she nodded over at a table.

“I think one of
those Council people left their crossbow behind.”

* * * * *

* * * * *

Uh oh,
thought Alyssa as she
approached the table.

There, lying
propped by the chair was indeed a crossbow, a particularly advanced looking one
though she wasn't exactly well versed in weapons of war (yet another cause of
concern for Vlad if his previous ramblings were anything to go by).  The
assembled crew exchanged looks, wondering what to do.  With typical directness,
Gretna calmed them.

“Oh quit your
worrying youngsters.”  She grunted.  “They'll not be back tonight and if they
do come back at all it'll be during the day tomorrow.  When it'll be quieter.”

Gretna might be
direct verging on the ignorant, but she was right, thought Alyssa.

James had a very
puzzled expression on his face as Gretna grabbed the crossbow and headed over
to the bar.  Alyssa smiled nervously. 

“Nothing to
worry about.” she said.

I hope

* * * * *

Alyssa lay
looking up at her ceiling, Mr Rabbit cuddled in her arms and a bright smile on
her face.  For once, just once in her unlife, things were good.  She had a
boyfriend, she had a new best friend
and
two vampire hunters were no
longer hunting her.

It had been a
wonderful walk home with James.  They talked at length about...stuff.  Work,
life, butterflies, how cold it was, even about glasses (she discovered to her
delight that he wore glasses as well, though only for fine detail engineering
work).  He talked about day time (she listened intently, reminding herself of
what a wonderful thing the rising sun was).  She talked about clothes (and he
was polite enough to listen, nod his head and smile sweetly).

All very mundane
but it had felt so nice to her.  For her, mundane was good.  She would take a
boring conversation about the weather any time over having to run over roofs or
hide from sunlight.  He'd walked with her all the way home.  As a reward, she'd
let him be the bold one and lean in for the kiss.  He was getting more
confident.  That was good.

Yes.  Definitely
a good night.

Well, you do
have to wear a corset tomorrow night

Alyssa
shuddered.  That wasn't going to be fun, but it was a small price to pay.

She closed her
eyes, her smile remaining as she entered her dream state.

* * * * *

Victoria's
fingers ached from writing. 

Thankfully,
after busy morning hours, the report was done.  She leaned back, satisfied,
waving her hand till the feeling came back.  She was going to need a new quill
if this kept up.

She had made it
back to her home without decorating any of the streets of Larrick City with
steak and potatoes.  Good going considering the coach driver seemed to taken
some perverted glee in running over every pothole in the road.

She had gotten
home and gratefully slept for a
long
time.

She was sure her
figure would require more than a few days to recover.  That added to the fact
she still felt full even now, but at least she could think straight.  Indeed
she had used that to digest (if you'll pardon the expression) just what
information they had been passed last night.

Beside her sat
the signed parchment from the two girls who had reported about the fat drunk. 
The one who appeared to resemble the one found dead.  The older girl, Alyssa,
had been most keen to absolve herself of the guilt of his murder by ensuring
that they knew she was the one who knocked him out beforehand.  Not dropped or
otherwise killed him.  It had all seemed fair enough the night before and all
completely innocent.  Two girls who basically wanted to make sure they didn't
end up on trial for something they didn't do, and more importantly, ensure that
they weren't mistaken for vampires.

That was last
night.  This morning, Victoria was taking a far more critical look at the
circumstances, and there was something bloody fishy about those two.

The thing was,
it didn't really affect her conclusions.  Whilst the girl's story was
suspicious, it wasn't suspicious enough to change the outcome of her report,
which was, as she feared, inconclusive.  All it confirmed were the drunk's
movements before his death.  She could perhaps surmise that something had
happened between him waking up from being knocked out and him being found dead
by the Mounds Walkway.  Said happening involving him losing half his blood and
getting two tiny marks on his neck.  But she had no proof, no hard evidence.

What she could
more accurately surmise was this.  He had assaulted a girl on Holt Street,
something confirmed by the two girls, and was indeed drunk at the time.  He
then got knocked out by one of the girls (nicely done) and awakened sometime
later.  He then stumbled over to the Mounds path and fell on a spike.  There
was no evidence to suggest foul play.

Unless you
assumed someone was lying, but again, she had no proof of that.  Apart from the
unusual state of the body, there was nothing else that pointed to the work of a
vampire.  Inconclusive.  Not enough evidence.

Sod it all.

She ran a hand
through her black hair, checking that her ponytail was still secured.  Sighing,
she signed her name on the parchment and stamped it with the official
concluded
seal.

At this point
Malak arrived. He cast her a look as he closed the door behind him.

“Morning.” he
grumbled.  He was dressed in his usual armour plate and equipment pouches,
though what he was wearing seemed a little different today, sparser somehow. 
She didn't bother to berate him for being late.  Again.  For once, he had a
damn good excuse.  It was only by a monumental effort of will that she had made
it in on time and was not still lying in bed wondering when her stomach would
stop hurting.

“Morning.” she
replied.  He looked beat and depressed if she wasn't mistaken.

“Sleep well?”
she hazarded.

“Oh yeah.” he
said, taking a seat by the wall.  “Sleep was fine.”

Odd answer
considering last night’s circumstances.  He gave her the worried look.

Uh oh.

“What did you
do?” she said, knowing the look all too well.

He shuffled in
his seat uneasily.  “You know my K-12?” he asked

Hard not to.

“Yes.”

“Well...” he
paused, flinching from her look.  “I left the bloody thing at the tavern.”

Victoria lifted
her hand to her forehead. 

“Hells depths.”
she breathed.  At least that explained the sparser equipment load.

“I just forgot,”
he said spreading his arms in a gesture of apology.

“Well I can
understand why.” she admitted, seeing no need to rhyme off any procedures
regarding equipment care.  “Not like we wanted to stick around.  Thing is...”

She gave him a
look.

“...that means
we have to go back.”

He nodded
gravely.

“Well, no
matter,” she said next, reaching for a mug she had set beside her.  The coffee,
thankfully, was still warm.

“Good news is
the report's done.”

Malak frowned. 
“And your conclusion?”

She shook her
head.  “Don't worry.  I put 'inconclusive'.  Not enough evidence.”

“Good.  Last
thing you need on your career record is 'Hunted vampires'.”

Y
eah.  Hunted
them unsuccessfully.

Just then the
door knocked.

“Come in.”
Victoria said with a hint of boredom.

“Begging your
pardon miss,” said one of the Council of Peace guards, poking his head through
the door.  It was one of the old Argon legionnaires that the council employed,
an older man by the name of Garlow, short of height and hair, with a podgy but
grizzled face. 

“But the
Overseer wants to see you.  He's requesting your report on the vampire
investigation.”

Victoria
frowned.  That was odd of the Overseer.  Whilst she didn't like the man, he at
the very least normally let her get on with things once an investigation was in
motion.  Only very rarely did he specifically ask for reports this early. 
Normally reports were left with his attendant, Glynis, a polite if constantly
worried looking elf maiden who looked far too young to be an attendant.

“Fortunate then
that I've just finished it.” she said, holding up the pile of papers.

She rose, and
made to follow Garlow out.

“Back in a sec.”
she said to Malak. She paused to let Garlow leave the room, before speaking
again to Malak in a whisper.

“And summon a
coach, we'll go collect your crossbow shortly.”

* * * * *

The Overseer's
sanctum was located in its own miniature keep at the far end of the Council of
Peace compound.  It was a circular keep, an ex Argon military cannon fort,
dotted with banners and flags denoting various families and departments that
worked within.  It was here that the various other Overseers had their
headquarters. 

From a defensive
point of view Victoria didn't see this as a particularly smart idea.  One well
placed thunderbox or cannon ball and you could wipe out half the leadership of
the Argon branch of the Council.  But apparently it promoted greater unity
amongst the various departments.

That was balls
and they knew it.

Each department
was its own little empire, and the Overseers, Masters, Lords or whatever else
they called themselves, liked to keep it that way, jealously guarding their
responsibilities.  Why else did each have a separate guard for their rooms in
this supposedly united organisation?  Or separate banners and motifs, each
apparently designed to outdo the other and constantly being revised?

Victoria stepped
up the great stone steps at the entrance of the keep and Garlow ensured both of
them stepped through the security.  Two formidable orc mercenaries guarded the
inner and outer doors, dressed in shirts of black ring mail and leather plate,
glaring at them as they approached.  Orcs had been allies of the swamp dwelling
Halnas during the war, seeing as most orcs hailed from that far western part of
the continent.  Now, with the war over, they found ample employment as
bodyguards, militia and, oddly, Tax Reapers, though Victoria could see the
logic.  Only a fool would argue with an orc; if you sent an orc to request
someone hand over money, the majority of the time they'd
very quickly
hand
over that money.

The orc grimaces
were replaced with smiles once they had cleared security with their metal
badges.  Not that that was a major improvement; there was little difference
between an orc smile and an orc grimace.       

Inside the main
entrance hall of the building, various doorways off to the left and right lead
into the many little kingdoms where those in charge plotted their little
political games, dozed away the day drinking expensive wine or occasionally,
just occasionally, actually doing some work.  Guards stood or sat at each door
according to departmental whims.

Orcs, humans and
a rather bored looking ogre, all in attendance.  Racial Relations Department
(the RDD), Secret Operations Department (SOD), Economics Department (the 'Eek'
department if office gossip were to be believed).  Victoria had little regard
for any of them.  The only place other than her own department that she had any
kind of friendly interaction with was the Internal Investigations Department.

She actually got
on with them well enough.  The man in charge of that department was Kane
Maldor, an ex Larrick City Militia man.  He had known Victoria's father.  He
was a loud and commanding man, but a seasoned professional.  She and he were
like minded on many subjects.  On more than one occasion she had done some work
for them.  On the quiet, without Horna's knowing.  Many times transfers had
been attempted, sadly, none had been successful.  Yet.

Garlow took the
third door on the left.  The one leading to the Investigative Department's
area.  The personal heraldry of Horna Gladwell was displayed above the door
frame, its bronze form dominating.  Two rampant lions facing outwards whilst at
the centre, a dragon with wings raised leaping out from the middle, mouth
agape.  Victoria had on more than one occasion expected the damn thing to leap
down and swallow her.  The casting was disturbingly realistic looking, right
down to the sharpness of the fangs and roughness of the scales.  It definitely
wasn't the most reassuring-looking emblem, but the Gladwell family had been
keen dragon trainers during the war.  It made sense that a dragon would sit
prominently on their heraldry.

Garlow pushed
open the door without comment.  He was used to it.