FE: The Sharlan Curse

Chapter 6: Blood in the Streets

     Alyssa sighs, lying back on the old bed.  She frowns, catching a faint glimpse of her reflection within the window.  "All this rain has been horrible for my hair, I look like a wight."
     "I thought you said you were no longer a noblewoman."  Miles teases.  "You've never striked me as the vain sort."
     "I'm the vain one?"  Alyssa laughs.  "You're the one who had a conniption back in Aude over what to wear."
     "To be fair, it was my favorite tunic we were dealing with."
     "I'm sure you can get another one whenever we make it to the capital, heh, if we ever get there that is."
     "True."  Miles smiles.  "Nevertheless Lyssa, don't worry about your hair, I think it looks fine personally.  It could always be worse, look I me, I look like I've been ran through a wringer."
     Alyssa's porcelain face beams a bit.  "Thank you Milo."
     Vivian steps out of the hallway and into the ward, a tired expression on her face.  Her wine red hair was frizzled, a mess of burgundy strings flying about in every which way.  She lets out a long sigh and collapses down on the nearest bed; which, to the dismay of her brother Warin, was the one he was happening to occupy.
     "Go away."  He whines, prodding her sides with his nubby fingers.
     "Warin, don't start."  She grumbles.  Parting her hair to the side, she turns and looks at Miles.  "I forgot how much of a slave driver my mother could be, and I thought you were bad."
     "Don't get too excited."  Miles says.  "We've got a long march ahead of us, one that'll lead to combat if my gut feeling is correct."
     Vivian lets out a long, audible groan.  "Why did I ever agree to join your campaign?"
     "I believe you said it was do get stronger.  You do feel stronger, don't you?  Marching will do that to you."
     "I'm tired of walking, I can tell you that much."
     He smiles.  "I suppose we have been marching pretty fervently, haven't we?  Let's take a moment or two to catch our breaths.  Vivian, I don't want to impose, but your mother will allow us to stay here, won't she?"
     "I don't see why she wouldn't, she loves company.  What I don't see is why you'd want to stay here."
     "I don't imagine we have much of a choice.  Outsiders aren't welcome in Marchand at the moment.  With that said, I don't imagine many inns have vacancies, and even so, we'd be drawing attention to ourselves.  The people of Ambre need a place to stay, I won't let them be thrown out again."
     "You know, there's no promise that they won't be."  Alyssa sighs.  "Grier would report us all to the gatekeepers without hesitation.  He's the kind of man who doesn't care about others and is willing to do anything for a quick coin."
     Miles scoffs.  "He'll watch himself if he wants any of my coin."
     "Hey Lyssa," Vivian asks.  "Just how is that you know that man?  Didn't you say he was an old friend?"
     Alyssa looked repulsed.  "I did, but only for lack of a better word.  There are children present so I'll save the gory details, but let's just say there's some colorful history between the two of us and leave it at that.  It's a story for another time."
     "To change subject matters, would you care to introduce us to your family Vivian?"  Miles asks.  "I haven't had much experience with the church, I would love to meet some of them if you don't mind."
     "Not at all, but there's not really a whole lot to see."  Vivian says.  "There's Warin, but he's a good-for-nothing."
     "I am not!"  Warin retorts.
     "Like what?  Last I checked, you do nothing but act crude and play in the dirt and worms like every other little boy."  Vivian scoffs.  "You should quit picking your nose and start pulling your weight.  I'm sure Mom needed as many hands as she could get without me being here."
     "Hmph."
     "As I was saying.  My a few of my aunts and uncles used to work here as well, but from the looks of it's just been Mom for a while now."  Vivian sighs dolefully.  "Dad passed away a few years back.  As a war monk, he was one of the few members of our chapter of the church that could fight.  He joined the Chantelle Elites not long after I was born to provide us and the church with funds.  There was a skirmish one day on the eastern boarder and he and the other Elites were sent to stop it..."
     "The Attack on Castle Perrot?"  Miles says and Vivian nods.  "I know of it, several of the Elites lost their lives that day.  You have my deepest condolences Vivian."
     "Thanks."  She smiles, her expression wistful.  "You know, I never really got to know my father.  I was young when the attack happened, barely even able to walk.  Honestly, I can't even remember his face.  I just sort of wish I could see him, you know?"
     Miles nods.  "I know the feeling.  I lost my biological mother when I was young.  I often wonder what she was like, there isn't really talk of the old queen."
     There's a short rap on the front door, interrupting the conversation.  Miles stands and heads down the hall.  Pulling the rotting doors open, he's greeted with a wet gust of wind and the sickly smell of smoke and old ale.  Standing in the door frame was Grier.
     "What do you want?"  Miles scowls.
     "Just making a delivery Your Highness."  He says bitterly.  Neither one seemed happy to be in the other's company.  "Here you go.  Eight thousand's worth, like you said."
     Miles looks out the door frame and sees a few wooden grates at Grier's feet.  He sighs.  "I shouldn't complain, but is that really all?"
     "You haven't paid me yet, I didn't have to bring you a damn thing."  Grier scoffs and turns.  "Don't overstay your welcome Blondie, I want you here just as much as the people do."
     "I'll leave when the people of Ambre can stand on their own feet again."
     "Very well, I'll just go back to the bar and run up my tab."  Grier smirks.  "Or should I say your tab.  I really should thank you you know, your bleeding heart has made me richer than I've ever been."
     Grier laughs and walks off into the rain.  Miles sighs and steps out, lifting the boxes and bringing them in one at a time.  Setting all of but one down in the hall, Miles carries one of the grates into the ward and sets it down.  Shaking the water out of his hair, he opens the crate and looks inside.  There were several loaves of rather stale bread and bottles filled with questionable liquid.  Miles groans; Grier had cheated them.  Miles hated to feed the stony bread to everyone, but it was better than nothing.
     "Let me guess, Grier didn't uphold his end of the deal?"  Alyssa asks.
     "No, this one is on me."  Miles sighs.  "I guess I didn't make myself clear enough.  All I said was eight thousand's worth, and, well, now we certainly have a lot of bread.  Sorry about that everyone."
     "It's fine Milo."  Vivian smiles reassuringly.  "At least we've got something.  C'mon everybody, let's eat!"
     The Ambre townspeople leap from their beds, ready to finally eat.