Posts Tagged ‘Cammaratta’
Princess Celeste
February 4, 2017Death Dealer
September 10, 2016Sann looked out over the crowd and idly wondered how many of them were guilty. Walking through the marketplace just being eaten by their sins. They might not even realize they were being consumed. They might walk around without a care in the world that their morality was forfeit. Then there were the ones with the shifty eyes and crooked, wary smiles. The obviously guilty. So obvious that even they realized and shrank away from sight when you looked directly at them. They were the easy ones.
Of course, the whole marketplace was guilty. The whole marketplace was guilty because everybody was guilty. Everybody born under the sun was guilty of something. The King had once stated that this belief is what made Sann a great executioner. No hesitation, no remorse. The King’s tone had not indicated that this was a positive trait. Sann had to agree with the King on that point. If he executed every last person in the world, Sann would have to execute himself last. Of course, he would do so without hesitation.
It was the third day of the Grand Festival in Cammaratta and Sann was bored already. He had no heart for festivities and so he only wanted to remain on duty during the festival. Unfortunately, during the Cammaratta Grand Festival, there was a moratorium on executions. Not that there were many executions in a normal day but having guaranteed none was torture. There was no difference between being given a vacation and being forbidden from doing his job. No death was a big thing to ask for Sann. He did not hunger to kill but it gave his life structure.
So, Sann was sitting in a high place at Cammaratta’s largest marketplace. He scanned the crowd for the visibly guilty. The place was teeming with citizens of Cammaratta and other places in Altiria and many travelers from outside Altiria’s borders. He had to see their crime before he could punish them. No killing was allowed but bodily injuries could be very instructive. For that, Sann carried a long bow. In fact, it was close to double the length of a normal longbow. Its distance was unparalleled. For a more personal touch, he had a broad scimitar he had gotten imported from the southern continent. It could be very brutal and just the sight of it dropped crime rates.
Of course, there were always exceptions to every rule. One of those exceptions was illegally grasping an apple off of cart some distance away. There was obvious intent to steal. Before the man could pivot his feet to run, Sann had drawn back his bow. He let the arrow fly and watched and he watched the arrow hit the man’s hand, just missing the apple. The shrill, wounded cry he let out was thanks enough for Sann doing his duty. He watched the man sink to the ground. Two little field mouse guards scurried across the marketplace to retrieve the prisoner. Sann smiled proudly as the crowd acted with nervous dread and horror.
Sann turned to grab another arrow from the bucket behind him but froze instead. There were two stern-looking guards standing very close behind him. Too close.
“Stand away,” Sann barked, “that was a clean strike! My target will live. For now.” He added the last as an afterthought.
“We’re here on behalf of the throne. Collect your things and come with us.” The blond one said.
“Not unless I am given a good reason,” Sann said and moved to reach for another arrow anyway.
“The crown has a job for you.” The red-haired woman said.
“A job, you say? That is more interesting,” Sann said with a tiny smirk. “Fine. Lead on.” Sann picked up his weapons and started to follow the guards, noticing they kept their distance from him.
The two guards were silent as they walked toward the palace. They could remain silent but they had said so much already. They had been vague in their statements but they had been careful to use the correct pronouns. They had called it the crown and the throne which were meaningless terms. They referred to inanimate objects and not people. Those words could mean anyone with authority from the King all the way down to the smallest sniveling official. Sann normally only took his orders from the King and nobody used euphemisms instead of referring to the King. Most people felt that orders from the King were an honor and would never stop using that word. Something was strange and Sann wanted to find out what it was before refusing these new orders.
He wondered what had happened to the King. If he was dead, perhaps he had been murdered. Killing the King was the worst crime in the land. The idea excited Sann almost far too much. His heart began to beat faster at the thought of somebody guilty of regicide. The crime would potentially make that person the guiltiest person that Sann had ever been given. Killing that person or persons would feel better than any he had killed before. It was an outrageous thought. The thought brought such pleasure that Sann knew that it must not be true. The King was merely away on business or incapacitated. Nothing truly good ever happened to Sann and he guessed that nothing ever would. He would die, his work of killing all the guilty people would remain unfulfilled.
Allendra
May 15, 2014So I’ve been working on creating my own fantasy world for a long while now. I can’t remember when I started but it was definitely been over a year. I took some time off from it but I really do want to continue. As part of the effort to continue the initiative, I wanted to write something just to play in the world a bit. I don’t know if this a work in progress or just an experiment but I like it.
* * *
Allendra rose from her bed and felt every bruise and muscle ache and shuddered but kept going. Her bedchamber was pitch black which was a blessing this early in the morning. She drew strength from Aeon and felt the pain of all of that battle damage fade away. She stretched in the darkness, feeling almost ready to start her day. This was important as there were schedules to keep and people to see. When that person was a representative of the throne of Altiria, those schedules became so much more important to keep.
She stepped toward the curtain and threw her arm over her eyes before brushing it aside and stepping into the bright dawn sun streaming through the oculus above her bathroom and wardrobe. She could hear the city of Cammarata coming alive outside. By the time she hit the streets, they would be bustling with people. Allendra thanked Aeon she had been wise enough to select a room far from the noisy Artisans District. Thankfully she was not too near the Fish Market either. Here, nestled in the Legal Quarter, it was fairly peaceful.
Of course, the Grand Festival Cammarata would begin soon enough. That would bring huge crowds, fireworks and plenty of loud music. That was not her idea of a good time and she hoped that she would be assigned a mission during the three weeks of the celebration. Allendra must have been the only person any realm who would rather be engaged in a life or death battle than be in town for the Grand Festival.
She stretched in the sunlight and heard several pops from her back but it felt oh so good. She stepped into the bath and a chill ran from her foot all the way up her body. She overcame that voice in her head that said it was too cold and quickly sank into the water. That voice in her head very loudly protested again that it was too cold but it was definitely waking her up. She took a breath and ducked her head under the water. She fought discomfort to keep her head submerged and then surfaced with a huge gasp.
She climbed from the bath and happily dripped water everywhere, all over the stonework of the floor. Her mother had hated that and part of being an adult was doing things to spite your parents, right? She grabbed a cloth and carefully dried off her body before drying her hair. She tossed the cloth aside and fully intended to pick it up later. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt that was good enough. She was not some debutante out to impress the gentry at the castle.
As she started to dress, Allendra thought about what the Crown could possibly want from her. She held no special allegiance in her heart for the crown. At least, no more allegiance than any citizen owed. Like all those of her order, she cared only about doing the right thing. There were people out there who needed protecting and that was Allendra’s calling. She had no skills for politics or preaching but Aeon had granted her the strength and speed to do well in battle. She had trained for it all of her life and she was damned good at beating up bad guys. She was good at killing them too if it was needed.
She pulled the last strap tight on her armor and thought about whether or not to bring her helmet too. She usually only brought her helmet when she knew things would go very badly. She would be shocked if things went that badly at what was supposed to be just a meeting. She decided to leave the helmet where it was. Instead, she carefully arranged her hair and clipped it into place with four silver clips. The hair clips had bee a gift from a wealthy woman that Allendra had rescued a year ago. Allendra had tried to refuse but the woman had insisted and now Allendra had grown attached to them.
She pulled her boots on and headed out the door, firmly shutting it so that she could lock the door. She placed the key in her pouch and hung it around her neck and slipped it down into her armor. She did not own much to steal but she trusted the thieves of Cammaratta would steal it all before she returned. Lock designing was a pastime in the city which only made the city’s lockpicks the best in the world. The lock would not stop them but perhaps it would persuade them to look elsewhere. At least her lack of possessions would make them feel stupid upon spending the time picking the lock.
As for the more common footpads around the city, Allendra did not fear them in the slightest. A disciple of Aeon was never without a weapon. At age fifteen, Allendra had undergone a lengthy set of trials and ceremonies that basically separated a portion of her soul. That shard of her soul had been forged into a great sword. That sword now floated invisible behind her back, ready to be grasped at a moment’s notice. She could never be separated from this weapon and it was the weapon she primarily fought with.
That was enough preparation. It was time to step out and see who the Crown wanted her to fight now.