Chapter 23, Night Patrol 2

(Trisha, Streets of the Capitol)

The messenger in her red and black uniform strode into the light of the first torch, showing the young woman's tied back hair.

Trisha waited uneasily, drawing her curved dagger from its hidden sheath. She took a step forward, but stopped as she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Trisha glanced over her shoulder. The reassuring outlines of Greg and Eliya stood behind her, waiting.

She breathed through her nose, taking in the faint scent of manure that clung to the streets. The athletic messenger yelped as three figures charged out of the alley. The agile messenger spun around and fled back towards Trisha's alley. Trisha's heart thudded as she watched the messenger dart past the alley. Trisha watched the first, then the second of the three pass before she scurried out from the alley. The third of the three thug's eyes bulged, her curved dagger burying itself in the man's unprotected neck.

Trisha couldn't stop the man's momentum as he stumbled and clatter to the stone. Trisha gripped her bloody dagger in her right hand and grasp her boot knife with her left. The two other thugs turned around, just noticing their fallen companion. Trisha raises her knifes, watching the thugs charge her. The first swung something long and thick at her. Trisha lept to the side. Her daggers would be a pitiful defence for the heavy weapon.

Wood cracked on wood as the athletic form of Eliya blocked the heavy strike. Trisha circled the two as Eliya struck, her staff darting forwards with blinding speed. The cloaked figure yelped as the stave crashed into his arm with an audible crunch. Trisha closed the small gap, catching the figure from the side and burying her straight bladed boot knife into the figure's side.

The shadowy figure gurgled, collapsing. Trisha stepped back as Eliya brought down her staff with a crack to the figure's head, bone breaking. Her friend nodded her head, her face blank and focused. Trisha turned towards the last opponent. Steel smashed into steel as two figures clashed in the light of the nearest torch.

Trisha paused. Both cloaked figures danced as they brutally attacked and defended. She panted the brief fight, quick but exhausting.

" Which one is Greg?" asked Trisha, her hands trembling in her excitement.

" I dont know. I say we let them both fight and pay the winner to be our guard." said Eliya loudly. Trisha smirked as she watched one of the cloaked figures glare at them. Trisha stuck out her tongue. Ahh, the one on the left was Greg.

" Dont die Greg, this guy looks good with that sword." said Trisha leaning back on her heels, watching carefully just in case.

" You 're not being helpful." said Greg, huffing. Both fighters paused, circling each other.

" Hey you, thug, why did you attack the messenger?" asked Trisha, curious.

" I don't need to answer, you bastards. I'm going to kill you all. You killed my friends!" shouted the Man angrily.

" Was it for money or some other purpose?" asked Eliya.

Trisha waved Eliya forwards, and they blocked off any hope of escape for the wide eyed, thin man. The man gripped his plain sword in a white knuckled grip and glared at them hatefully..

" Tell you what, you answer a few questions and we let you leave here alive." said Trisha.

" I don't believe you." said the cloaked figure, his hands trembling on his short sword.

" Or I just let Greg over there cut you to pieces." said Eliya coldly. In the flickering torchlight, the man swallowed hard.

From fifteen steps away, Trisha assessed her odds, waiting for the thug to decide.

"Ask your questions." said the young man, his voice cracking.

" Why did you attack the messenger?" asked Trisha.

" They sometimes deliver valuable messages, and we can sell the information. Usually its too risky, but with the curfew we did not think anyone would catch us." said the young man.

" How many have you attacked?" asked Eliya.

"We robbed one two weeks ago. It took a while to sell the information, but we made a profit." said the young man puffing out his chest.

Footsteps approached from behind. Trisha whirled to see the red uniform of the messenger as the athletic woman cautiously approached.

" Have you killed any messengers this week? Or made any go missing?" asked Trisha, raising her bloody daggers.

" No! of course not. We were only going to rough her up I swear. We just wanted to take her goods. Everyone knows it's a bad idea to kill anyone in a major guild." said the cloaked young man, his face pale.

" Messenger! Do your fellows get robbed or do they get killed and robbed by the thugs of the city?" asked Trisha.

" Until a week ago, we have been mostly safe. We still get robbed, it's the cost of businesses. We are told to hand over our delivery if we cannot get away." replied the messenger eying the thug wearily.

" Have you seen anything suspicious lately at night? Asked Trisha, turning to the thief.

" Well besides you three, no its been pretty normal for my guild." replied the cloaked young man, shifting nervously.

" Greg cut off his leg. I think he is lying." ordered Eliya coldly. Greg started forwards raising his sword.

Wait! wait. I think I know what you are talking about. We have had no problems in this district, but in the lower district one of our teams of two skulkers went missing this week. We found a disturbing scene a few days later hiding under a garbage heap." said the young man, grimacing as though he had seen a ghost..

" What do you mean by a disturbing scene? and what are Skulkers?" asked Trisha, stretching and swinging her daggers playfully.

" I didn't see it, but some of the guys said the two skulkers were torn limb from limb. They weren't eaten, but it cut all of their fingers and toes. From what I heard, it flayed them alive, their skin peeled, leaving muscles showing." said the young man, shuddering.

Trisha blanched, bile rising in her throat. That sounded disgusting. She swallowed hard and stared under the dark cloak. Trisha caught the sound of boots on stone and glanced over her shoulder again. Down the street a patrol of eight guards rounded the bend, marching in unison.

" I held up my end. Let me go!" hissed the young man frantically.

" Do it, stand aside." order Trisha. As the young thief ran, she wonder how much was the truth? It could cause her trouble later, but Trisha knew what would happen if the guards caught the young thief. Trisha glanced over at the two bodies. Dark pools already formed under each of the cloaked forms.

" Halt!" shouted the guards. The cloaked young man ran past Trisha, down the street, away from the guards. The guards rushed towards them, drawing their weapons and lowering their spears as they approached. Trisha dropped her bloody daggers as the guards lower their spears.

Two of the guards rushed past them after the retreating thief. They rounded a bend a minute later. Trisha breathed calmly, gesturing to the medallion on her chest.

" Who are you and what happened here?" asked a woman holding a short sword and shield.

The messenger in her red uniform stepped beside them.

" they are from the church. They are assisting me. Those gutter rats attacked me. The church warriors killed two of them." said the messenger woman.

" Check the two bodies for the marks." order the guard with the shoulder harness and horsehair helmet plume of a captain. The guards kept their spears lowered, eyeing them cautiously. One soldier strode across the cobblestone path. The guard checked the man's stomach and lower back.

" They are telling the truth, captain. These two belong to the pit vipers." shouted the guard.

" Stand down. They appear to be telling the truth. Show me your medallion." order the guard captain sheathing her sword.

Trisha steps forwards holding out her shimmering blue amulet to the steely eyed captain. The woman's eyes went wide as she touched the amulet. She swayed for a moment, straightening up.

" Damn, the Bishop's apprentice. This must be serious, very good. I will report to the commander of your involvement. You may receive a summons to the garrison for questioning." said the captain regretfully.

The two other guards who chased after the runaway thief returned empty-handed, gasping for breath. Trisha tucked her amulet back into her shirt and found her bloody knives picking them from the ground. She walked past the steel clad guards and cleaned her weapons with the cloak of one of the dead thugs. She probably looked a mess. Blood always sprayed everywhere when someone died.

The guard captain approached her as she used the dead man's cloak and her water canteen to scrub her dagger.

" What is the bishop's apprentice doing escorting the messengers guild members around?" asked the patrol captain.

" Politics, captain. It comes with being the apprentice to the Bishop." replied Trisha, sighing.

The guard captain blanched and grimaced like she had stepped on a pile of dung.

" You 're on your own. I'm going back to my patrols. I'm allergic to politics. Lets go! We don't have all night. Earl and Jugo, go get us a cart!" shouted the guard captain.

Trisha waved her friends and the pale-faced messenger over. They all stopped in front of her, lit by the torchlight.

" Well, we caught someone. But we did not catch what we were hunting. Any plans on how to continue?" asked Trisha, resting her hands on her hips. The guards milling on the street split up into two groups, one watching over the bodies and the other group jogging down the street.