Book 1: Prints in the Snow

Chapter XIII • To Kill A Man

"So the King is in debt? Well, I think we all suspected as much. What with his extravagant arrangements and all that." Alora flippantly waved a hand as she and her daughter made their way down the streets. "But it seems you have many men wrapped around your finger thus far."

"Not many. I just try to be kind and-"

"Conniving. You understand people better than you let on. Where did you learn that from?"

"Well..." Lyon pandered. "There was a brothel in Winterfell. I got along well with the women there and... they taught me things."

"Leave it to the whores to know how men's minds work. We know best, of course." Lyon's mother flashed a grin, catching her eye. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by solemnity. "There's a place I want to show you. Some people I want you to meet. You may like them, but be warned they will not be outrightly kind to you."

"No one ever is unless one has to be," Lyon replied, to which she noticed a nod of approval from Alora. Together they silently made their way through the city rabble, cloaks and hoods hiding their countenances from the passerby. It was when their road became narrow and scarce of souls and light that Lyon began to worry. Instinctively her hand found the small blade at her belt.

Alora's eyes swept the area, and only when no one was in sight did she lean to a grate on the ground. "Help me with this." She said, and Lyon momentarily bent to lift it with her and set it aside. The hole revealed was large enough to fit one body at a time, and reeked of sewage. Lyon's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Is it down there?"

"The safest places are always where nobody wants to go." Alora assured, lifting the skirts of her dress to climb down the ladder. Lyon hesitated when her mother's form became imperceivable amidst the darkness below, but she allowed the trust Alora had earned to make her descend the ladder, and pull the cover back over the hole.

It was complete darkness, and the stench clung to the walls and the air. There was a sudden spark, and suddenly a torch ignited in Alora's hands, followed by another, which found its place in Lyon's hands.

"Follow me. There are some twists and turns, but should you know to read the signs then you will find your way. Even in the dark." Alora began forward, each step echoing through the cavernous stretch. It felt like leagues that they walked and wound their way through the maze of tunnels. Rats and roaches scurried past their toes and squealed at the light. They would scamper off to some new hiding place and then be gone to Lyon's eyes. Good riddance, she thought in disgust.

"If you expect me to make nice with the rodents then-"

"Hush! We are almost there."

Lyon's words fell away. Silence consumed the tunnel, but then there was a door. Metal and locked, it seemed. But Alora strode toward the lonely door and knocked in a series of long and short taps.

"Who knocks?" A recognizably male voice answered.

"A flower in the night. And her guest."

There was a brief pause, then the lock's mechanisms came undone. Scraping against the floor, the opened and a dimly lit room was revealed to Lyon. Alora strode forward, her younger half following closely behind. They met the man who had opened the door as he shut it and secured the lock. He was massive, larger even than the Hound whom Lyon had only seen a few times. A thick black beard and hair hung to his chest, while his body was carved in a dull yet fortified leather garb. He caught Lyon's watchful eye and marched past, never breaking eye contact.

"You'll see him then, I assume." He said, speaking plainly to Alora.

"If that isn't too much trouble, Theron."