Beira

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Bloody Fingers: Book of Prologues- Chapter Twenty

As always, the girl rose before dawn. She crawled out of her makeshift bed in the corner, a few burlap sacks filled with straw and covered by a few thick blankets. She kept one blanket draped around her shoulders for warmth and made her way to the scuttle door. She remained crouched, as the small attic room was not tall enough for her to stand. She crept quietly, trying not to wake her two roommates, but the floorboards creaked, and the door hinges popped loudly as she exited the tiny room. She looked back into the room before closing the door behind her. Neither of the other girls had so much as moved. Beira tiptoed down the stairs towards the main hall of the inn. 

She was surprised to see a fire already burning in the large central pit, and a man in a dark cloak sitting nearby with his hood pulled up to cover his head. He had a book on the table before him between his hands. And he had what appeared to be a half-finished bottle, but it was no drink that was sold at the inn. It looked very expensive. It was a ruby red decanter with what looked like silver wire filigree along its neck. Beira continued on through the hall, pushing the kitchen door open to greet Kathae- the innkeeper and its cook. The warm air and delicious smell of the kitchen was incredible. Kathae had just pulled some small loaves of bread out of the brick oven, transferring them onto a table. Their eyes met and the girl smiled her greeting. Beira tilted her head back towards the hall where the man was brooding. 

“He was sitting there when I came down. Figured it was best to just leave him be.” Kathae explained. “At least he’s got the fire burning. He saved you a chore.”

Beira pulled her wild dark hair into a ponytail and wrapped it with a thin leather strap to hold it in place. She used a cloth napkin to wipe at her face and eyes and then placed that into a bin on the floor. She picked up a large wicker basket and left the kitchen to enter the yard behind it. It was a decent sized area which held a round stockade fence. She opened the gate and went inside the circle. Boxes had been built along the interior wall, most of which were currently occupied by fat red hens.  Beira’s head swiveled back and forth, looking for the rooster. It was always better if she could finish gathering before he awakened. He was perched on the fence top, his head still tucked under his wing. The girl went over to a netted hay bag hanging from the fence and put clean straw into her basket. She then began gathering, reaching her hand into a coop beneath the resident hen to feel for eggs and placing them carefully into the basket. It was progressing nicely, until one nervous hen bawked too loudly in protest. Beira looked back to the rooster, who was now standing tall on the fence with his head at attention.

“You didn’t even have an egg. Oh, you’re going into the pot next.” Beira promised the clucking hen. She then gathered two more eggs in quick succession, moving down the line of nesting boxes.  She heard the rooster flapping down onto the ground from his high perch. He was warbling, angry at being disturbed this morning. Beira grabbed one more egg and then turned to the approaching rooster. 

The animal had moved in a circular motion, prancing towards her with his body shifted at an angle- the wing dropped down like a shield. The girl turned completely towards the animal, setting the basket down beside her. The rooster’s aggression increased as it turned directly to face her. It was stretched to its full height with its head pulled back, running to her with both wings flapping to make itself larger and give it more speed. Beira raised one leg, and as the rooster finally launched its attack it lifted completely off the ground. Beira extended her foot to meet the bird’s chest. She didn’t kick the animal, just used her leg to keep it distanced. Still, the big rooster managed to get one strong peck on her shin- causing the girl to grunt in discomfort. A second attack from the bird was similarly thwarted. As the bird tried to retreat to circle and attack again, the girl quickly jumped forward. Her hands grasped the rooster’s back and pinned him on the dirt. The rooster squawked and squabbled, but soon realized it was defenseless and quieted down. All the other hens, however, proceeded to scramble and fly- feathers and screeches flying equally through the air. This ruckus woke the stable dog, who began to bark. The dog’s barking woke the stable boys, who shouted- adding human voices to the chaos. Beira remained stooped over the rooster for a little longer, pressing it into the dirt and establishing her dominance. When she finally released the rooster, it fluffed its feathers in indignation and then walked calmly away from the girl- doing its best to pretend nothing had happened. 

Beira stood back up, recovered her basket, and finished gathering the eggs. She then emptied the half-cask used to water the birds by pouring it at the edge of the fence and then filled it halfway by making a trip to the open well outside the stockade. She brought the basket of eggs over to the cask and cleaned them with the water and her hands. Before she had finished, all the noise had abated but a lantern had been lit in the hayloft above the stable. At least, she wouldn’t have to wake the boys now!

Beira always tried to wake up early to get her morning chores completed in the dark. Doing so usually gave her a little time to herself. She’d open the door of the hayloft after the boys were awake, where she would sit and read as the sun rose into the sky. Her mother had taught her to read as a child and it was an extravagance she had not outgrown. She loved reading in that morning light! It always felt like the red and orange colors warmed the pages in her hand. She always imagined herself sitting in a library before a great fire, reading about great adventures. The girl had been taken in by the Innkeeper when her parents died of a sickness. She had brought several books to the inn with her, and she had been able to keep trading them at the bookstore for a reasonable fee. She would sit, often wrapped in a blanket with a book in one hand. The other hand picking at her breakfast plate and lifting a cup of hot tea to her lips. This was the moment in the day when the girl was most happy. This was the moment when her mind and spirit were truly free.

It wasn’t her time yet, however. There were still chores to be done. Beira went back into the kitchen and set the basket of eggs on the center table next to the cooling loaves of bread. She sat down on a bench, one hand rubbing her sore leg. She looked up at Kathae, shaking her head with a smile.

“That went well.” Beira quipped.

“Oh.” The woman replied. “It didn’t really sound like victory, but what do I know.” She smiled at the young girl and then turned her attention back to the open fire, where strips of meat were sizzling on a huge metal skillet that was suspended above the flames by hanging chains. 

Beira stood up and grabbed a wide plank carved with handles. She began gathering up the morning dishes. Kathae was never wasteful or sloppy, but there were always dirty dishes. Today, there were several wooden bowls as well as a few ceramic ones, some cups, and numerous forged knives and spoons. There were also several bloody plates where she assumed the cook had sliced the meat into strips. Beira took them all outside onto a tiny patio where a small wooden trough was set along with a rectangular table and benches. It took three trips to the well and back to have enough water in the trough. She then placed the dishes in the water, taking a small cloth from a hook and using it to rub the dishes clean. When they were clean, she took a larger towel pinned to a drying line and used it to dry the dishes. She then carefully stacked them onto the platter. She reached into the dirty water, pulling a cork from the bottom. The dirty water drained into a wooden sluice which carried it away from the building. A trip to the well gave her the water to rinse the trough, and she recorked the bottom. Three more trips, and the trough was refilled with clean water. If the morning was busy, having the trough ready made it easier to wash plates and utensils to serve more meals. She brought the cleaned dishes back inside and began to stack them in their places. The two other girls, Tilly and Bess, had come downstairs and were eating at the table. The locals knew them as Tilly the Tankard and Bess the Beer Bringer. These girls were the primary servers at the inn. Beira usually helped in the kitchen and washed dishes. She was younger and was still too pretty to work out front. When she did serve plates and drinks, there would often be fights as drunken men competed for her attention. 

“Anything else you need me to do, Mistress Kath?” Beira asked her boss.

“Just recheck the fire pit, child. It’s still just the one man inside so far.” Kathae nodded towards the main hall. “And then get plates for you and the boys to eat. We should be fine for a bit. We’ll yell out when the dirty dishes start stacking.”

Beira walked out into the main hall. The fire pit in the center of the room was burning high and hot. She could hear it hissing almost like a blacksmith’s forge. The man must have put more wood and likely some alcohol into the fire. He was now slumped over his table and the breathtaking bottle was nowhere to be found. The girl slowly walked up to check on him. He appeared to be sleeping from his drink. A small puddle of saliva had formed on the table near his mouth, and he was snoring softly. She could see his face now. He had full white hair and a thick well-groomed beard. His skin was tanned and while it showed his age, he still looked vital and formidable. He had small wire spectacles which had fallen down onto the tip of his nose. He also had what looked like a cluster of small metallic jewels that were embedded into his temple. She could see the rich fabric of a gray silken robe beneath his traveling cloak, and there were silver or possibly platinum chains and clasps along his collar. He looked extremely wealthy. And he looked completely out of place in this tavern.

Beira approached even closer. She needed to wake him before others came in. The man would most likely be robbed, and if that happened it would bring major trouble to the inn. The girl was young, but she was not naïve. A very rich man’s anger was a dangerous thing. She was reaching for his shoulder when the sparkling book caught and held her eye. 

It was like a cold shock had moved through her body, stopping her motion completely. She gasped at the strange feeling. It was like she’d fallen into a cold lake, the water stiffening her body and stealing her breath. She had thought the man’s decanter was the most beautiful thing, but it was just a poor bauble next to this glorious tome.

The book’s cover was leather painted with metallic silver. It was etched with curved marks, so it had the appearance of scales like a snakeskin. There was a carved ivory emblem in the center, like claws from the inside tearing down the book’s face. There were darkened gouges in the claws wake that seemed to shine with wetness. There was a jeweled rune in each corner of the book. Each symbol was a different design, and they all shimmered in the firelight as if they were constantly shifting in color. Beira found her eyes were moving involuntarily, following the twinkling lights of the runes in circular patterns. Her mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t force her lungs to take in breath after her gasp had emptied them. Her eyes filled with tears as the pain in her chest became white hot and she heard a ghostly whistling whine escaping her. The girl’s arm extended further on its own, reaching past the man’s shoulder. Her outstretched fingers were pulled towards the cover, until her four fingertips rested on the cold white claws. 

A hand grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard! The rich man had awakened. Another shock ran through her body. This time, it forced her lungs to gasp and fill with air once more. As if they were angry, the claws coming out of the book seemed to press forward, piercing her skin and drawing blood.  The girl’s vision was locked onto the book. She could not turn her head or close her eyes. She could see how the shining runes glistened off every facet of the red drops of blood, as they dripped down the claws and absorbed into the wet gashes. Beira shrieked! It was the scream of an animal, and it exploded from her small body with force. The impact knocked the white-haired man backwards onto the floor. A frigid darkness overtook her mind and body, and she collapsed. 

***

The young girl returned slowly. First, it was just sound that returned to her. 

“Frightened old fool.. What have you done?...”

She couldn’t speak or respond. Her body trembled, but she couldn’t move otherwise. Her eyes were closed. And she felt so very, very cold. The voice she heard was powerful, and angry. It echoed a little, and it frightened her. She heard footsteps nearby. And then she felt pain as her body was lifted up from the ground! Her arms stretched far above her head. Her tendons and muscles were pulled taut as a spasm took hold of her entire body. Her mouth gasped, gulping in air. Beira found her vision as her eyes opened wide in terror, tears forming and falling down her cheeks. Beira found her breath as she tried to scream in pain, but her voice was hoarse and cracked. The sound that came from her sounded strangled. She saw the man. He was alone.

“Sister….” He said just the one word. His head pushed forward a little and tilted as if he were trying to focus on something very small. His hands were clenched around a tall staff which he held before him. It was bone white, with red and silver veins running through it. There was a fist carved at the top, which held a ball of white fire. Its light burned the girl’s eyes. 

“Help!”. She forced the word out between her gasps.

The man’s eyes widened and he looked confused for a breath. He tilted his head a little further and then closed his eyes. His forehead wrinkled and his eyes squeezed even further. His lips parted slightly, showing his teeth. And then he opened his eyes again and took a big step back. The piercing fire went out, and the fist at the top of the staff was now holding a large milky crystal. Its light was gone.

The girl’s body dropped onto a stone floor. It felt warm against her skin. The spasm had left her body and she was able to bring her hands up against her face. She was gasping as she cried, raspy moans rising from her crumpled body. 

“Stay within the circle.” The man’s voice was deep and resonant now.

Beira looked to the man. He was squatting down, but still held the staff in both hands between them- it was just parallel to the floor now. He released one hand and pointed to the floor in front of the girl. 

She looked back down and saw a shining metal line that was inlaid within the stone. She turned her head to follow it and realized it encircled the space where she lay. 

“Be careful.” She looked back as he spoke again. He was now pointing towards her feet. She pulled her legs tightly against her body and wrapped her arms around her knees- curling into a ball. The man stood up. He spoke words the girl did not understand, his free hand moving through the air drawing patterns. Glowing lines appeared in the air around her, as if the man was writing on the air itself. She watched the lines as they extended and formed a glowing lacework that encircled her like a globe. She felt warmth hit her body, as if hot air had just swirled around her skin, and her mind got a little fuzzy. She suddenly felt intoxicated.

“What is your name?” His voice was commanding.

“Beira.” The girl knew deep in her soul that she could only speak the truth to this man.

“What is my name?” He was squatting again, staring directly into her eyes.

“I don’t know your name.” Her voice was a raspy whisper. 

His face relaxed at her answer. He took a deep breath- a long slow inhale. His eyes closed as he slowly exhaled. He reopened his eyes and for the first time, he looked like an old man. Some of the light and determination had left his eyes. His skin didn’t look as firm. It was almost like some vibrant part of life had escaped him. He seemed… deflated somehow. And he suddenly didn’t seem as dangerous. 

The confused girl moved into an upright sitting position; her arms still wrapped around her knees. Her crying slowed, as did her breathing. Her tear-streaked face turned as she looked around the room. It was a large windowless room made of stone. There were tables and cabinets around the room, and disturbingly there were also cages of different sizes.  Each corner of the room had a glowing ball of light that floated near the ceiling. She looked down at the metal ring surrounding her. Glowing symbols were inscribed on the metal, spaced around its circumference. 

Her eyes returned to the old man. He was sitting on the floor now. She couldn’t see his face as his head was bent down. His free hand was rubbing at his eyes, but his other hand still grasped the ornate staff which was set beside him. His breathing was ragged. It sounded like he was weeping. Beira sat unmoving, waiting for the man to do something.

Once he quieted, the man lifted his staff and swiped it through the air in the girl’s direction as he uttered a strange word. He didn’t raise his head to look. The air surrounding the girl where the magical lacework was floating shimmered and then the glowing symbols disappeared with a loud popping sound. The marks on the metal circle flared and then extinguished, wisps of colored smoke rising from them.  The man finally raised his eyes, looking at the cringing girl as he rose back to his feet. He put his hand into a deep pocket and withdrew a thin bracelet made from dull metal. He tossed it towards Beira. 

“Put that on… Quickly!”. He instructed. His voice strengthened again. She did so, sliding the circlet over her hand. It moved on her wrist like a constrictor snake, holding tightly but not uncomfortable for the girl. 

“What is this?” Her voice trembled. She was staring at the metal around her wrist.

“A gift.” The man answered simply.

“Where am I?” she whispered.

“Someplace you aren’t supposed to be.” He grumbled at her, seemingly irritated by her question. “Get up and come with me.” He ordered.

“Please don’t hurt me anymore.” The young girl begged him, beginning to sob again and trying to back away from the man. She stopped just before the metal line in the stone- remembering his command to be careful about touching it. She whimpered and moaned, her hands held out in front of her body.

“It’s been dispelled.” The man waved a hand in her direction. “You can cross the barrier now.” 

He didn’t seem to notice her terror. He turned away from the girl and approached the wall, his free hand now making a small twirling motion in the air before him. He then extended two fingers from a fist, curling them like a snake’s fangs, and he reached forward as if he was grasping the air. As his arm pulled back, a huge handleless door swung into the room. Through the opening, the girl could see elegant furniture and thick carpets. She dashed forward, hoping to rush past the man and escape. However, when she got close to him, she smashed into an invisible barrier- her forehead making contact before any other part of her body. The impact stunned her, and she fell backward onto her ass. She stayed in an upright seated position for several breaths, but her head was wobbling and she fell to the side as the quiet overtook her again.

“What are you doing, you stu….” The man’s voice faded away into nothingness.

***

Beira opened her eyes. She was in a very comfortable bed, with linens both above and below her. Her eyes darted around the room. She sat up quickly, holding the sheet against her body and she realized that she was not clothed. Her eyes landed on an red-haired dwarven woman, who was sitting on a chair by a window reading a book. The woman met her gaze and smiled.

“Easy, child… Easy, now” The dwarf stood up slowly, both hands extended towards the girl. Her hands flexed open and closed twice, in time with her words. 

Beira’s heart and breathing slowed as her emotions calmed. She felt warm and relaxed, and she was still a little sleepy. She didn’t know this woman, but that was ok. At this precise moment, she knew she was safe.

“Where am I, Matron?” Beira asked politely. “And can you tell me where my clothes have gone, please?”. 

The dwarf’s eyes tightened, surprised that the girl had used her proper title. She recovered quickly, smiling warmly as she flexed her hands in the air once more- sending more calming energy towards the young girl. 

“We are in the Gilded Halls, my dear.” The older woman watched for a reaction but read nothing but confusion on the girl’s face. “And the clothes you were wearing were soiled. I didn’t want to put you into bed when you were filthy. I have some others here for you.”

The girl looked down at her bare arms, and then back at the dwarf. 

“I’ve been washed.” A simple statement.

“Yes, child.” The woman’s hands flexed open towards the girl once again. This time the young lady noticed the movement. She raised her eyes to meet the Matron’s, and she surprised the dwarf again. The girl looked… amused.

“The man that hurt me.” The girl did not break her gaze. It was a statement, but also an implied question. 

“Who hurt you, child?” The dwarf had concern in her voice, heated with just a touch of anger.

“The man with the book.” Beira’s voice quivered a little. Her heart and breathing had quickened.

“Are you talking about Master Sage Toman?” Any anger in the dwarf’s voice was not gone, but the concern had deepened.

“I don’t know his name.” The young lady answered. “He was sleeping in his cup. He had a…. a book.” The girl’s voice quieted to a whisper at the end. Then she strengthened again. “The book hurt me.”

“Oh. Well, then…” The Matron’s voice hardened and she squared her shoulders. 

“Only a foolish child would touch the Master Sage’s belongings. I didn’t take you for a fool.” The dwarf picked up a stack of clothing from the table and stepped up to the girl, placing the bundle on the bed. “Get yourself dressed and then brush your hair.” She gestured to a small chair and table against the wall. “I have been here too long to wait any longer, but I’ll send an Acolyte to escort you to the kitchen.”

“I had a book in my bag!” The urgency in the girl’s tone stopped the Matron. “Is it okay?”.

“Of course, dear.” The dwarven woman pointed over to the table by the window again where a small book was lain. “You are in the Gilded Halls, child. Here, books are sacred. We protect them with our lives.” She walked back to stand next to the girl’s bed again where she slowly reached out and took one of Beira’s hands. 

“I don’t know what your life has been like.” The older woman spoke slowly. “I don’t know why the Master Sage brought you to us. I don’t know why you were dead to the world for more than two days, even after I cast a healing spell on your body.” She squeezed the girl’s hand with a firm yet gentle grip. “But I do know that you are going to be okay now and that you are safe here. This….” She touched the engraved silver bracelet on the girl’s wrist. “This means that you are going to be safe, here.”

Beira focused on the metal bracelet. She remembered the command in the old man’s voice when he demanded she put it on, and the strange way it seemed to move and tighten against her flesh. She felt a flash of fear pulse in her chest but then felt a cold sensation settle over her body- smothering the anxiety and pushing it back down. She looked back to the dwarf’s stunning emerald eyes. 

“You have the most beautiful eyes, Matron.” The cold sank into Beira’s belly, shrinking into a tiny ball. As it withdrew, the dam burst that had held her emotions at bay. Beira fell into the older woman’s arms, weeping without much sound. Holding the woman tightly and just releasing the tension with her tears. 

The Matron sat silently as well. She held the girl and let her nearness be the comfort. She did not waste words. She did not complain that she had been taken away from her duties for two days now, charged with watching this sleeping girl. She did not do anything, really. She just held the girl and softly patted her back. After a time, she began to hum softly. It was a song from her own childhood, and for some reason it brought tears to her eyes. 

So, the two women sat for a few moments. And when the young girl had composed herself again, the Matron wiped her own eyes and returned to the door. She opened it and then turned slightly to speak. 

“I’ll send an Acolyte to escort you to the kitchen.” The door closed behind her as the dwarf left the room. 

Beira began to dress. She marveled over the quality of each item; the incredibly smooth touch of a pair of shorts and a camisole, the thick yet comfortable fabric that made up the pants and high-collared jacket, the feel of leather soled slippers that were somehow the perfect size for her feet. These were the richest clothes she had ever worn! When finished dressing, she sat down at the small table and picked up the brush, when suddenly she froze into place. 

There was a polished oval of dark stone on the wall and she could see her reflection in it. She stared at the girl in the mirror. The cold shock of surprise locked her muscles. Her long white hair fell in tangles around her shoulders. Her hair had been ebony… 

Beira had changed…