Serpent's Kiss || Kingdom at the End of the World - Book I

[5] Choosing Sides

Victor Fair walked the streets of Elsendorf with the heavy, sure gait of a man in charge. Outwardly, his demeanor remained calm. It was a mask, one familiar to all who served the Amith Capil. Detached and unfeeling.

Perfect tools of destruction.

Victor shook the thought away, disturbed by its presence. He had not joined Her Majesty's army for a license to kill. The rank he carried and the power he wielded were meant to protect Samodivia's people. Politics may have mired the system, the priorities of those above the soldiers may have shifted, but Victor was confident that his brethren in the Amith Capil felt the same way he did. They would survive the shifting of this regime. They had survived the last, after all.

Having reached the main road, Victor paused to assess his options. He needed to find a cart or carriage of some sort, preferably padded for the comfort of the injured woman. Provisions were not necessary for what was to be half a day's trek up the mountain, but water wouldn't go amiss. Victor thought of the girl's thin shoulders, and scanned his surroundings with a purpose in mind. There was a grocer down the street, the store flanked by crates of tomatoes and cucumbers and cabbage. People bustled in and out. Some, mostly older women, lingered to gossip with the proprietor and each other. The soldier dismissed the establishment as too popular. No need to feed the rumors, especially those to do with the girl and her mother.

Victor ducked into an alley between two houses. He kept to the back streets, shoulders at times brushing walls as the paths he followed narrowed. The turns he took seemed random, yet not once did he encounter a dead end. Victor's mind was trained as rigorously as the soldier's body. It remembered what it had seen but once and produced relevant information readily. There were no tricks to it, no Spark to ease the way. Victor had achieved all he was on his own, through honest labor and rigorous discipline. When he took a right and emerged into open land, he knew exactly what he would see.

The MacLean Family Store seemed deserted, not as much as a single patron in sight. Victor pushed through its door for the second time that day. A familiar, croaky jingle rang above his head. The soldier scanned the small store, pale eyes trailing over shelves bearing a scant selection of produce and supplies. Erika MacLean was notorious in her absence, the shock of blonde curls nowhere to be found.

"She's in the back. Whatcha want?"

Victor blinked slowly. "Name?" he asked, a beat belated.

"Dimitri." Dimitri leaned against the register. His eyes were sharp, at odds with the lazy sprawl of his body. "That was a bad way to go about it, you know."

Victor suppressed an irritated sigh. "I would like to rent a cart," he said, seeking to change the subject to the practical. A store would have one, even if uncomfortable and suitable for inanimate cargo only. "I will purchase food, as well," he added.

A door opened, stealing their attention. Erika MacLean stormed into the store, hair wind-blown and wild around her face. The joy that pulled her lips into a smile disappeared as soon as her eyes landed on Victor. She stuffed the letter she held into a pocket in her apron.

"I believe I requested your absence," she said, voice cold.

"I would like to rent a cart. Preferably one that requires a single horse," Victor said.

"I do have one," Erika allowed, "But I'm not in the habit of renting it out."

"You will be compensated well," Victor assured her. The Amith Capil didn't want for gold. He pointed to a shelf above the register, "Five pumpkin rolls, three apples, and a waterskin. I will buy a basket, as well."

Erika collected the requested items. She wrapped the bread in thin paper and placed it atop the apples in a small wicker basket. "How long would you keep the cart, if loaned?" she asked.