Black Staszi Comes To Town - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For the rest of the day Siri avoided the dark elf. She went about the inn's chores, welcomed customers for the supper hour, and served them stew, bread, and beer. Once that evening, she looked upward and found Staszi in the corner by the stairs. The drow watched her, lavender eyes glittering. Siri froze. She glanced around in fear that someone might see their shared look. Heart hammering, she hustled her empty tankards to the taproom.

When she came back, Staszi was gone. That night, for the first time since her patient appeared, Siri went up to her top-floor garret room. Fitfully she slept alone.

The next morn, Siri nearly jumped out of her skin when a giant six-foot man wearing leather armor and greatsword entered the inn. She screamed, causing the stranger to jump back almost a far as she did.

Hareth rushed out of the back. "What in nine hells?" he challenged, and then saw the man. "Garred brother?"

The big man nodded. "Just returned from the war." He glanced at where Siri cowered against the wall. "Ye're not expecting guests anymore?"

"Pay the wench no heed." Hareth stepped forward and clutched his brother's arms. "Welcome home."

Shamefaced, Siri hurried to fetch them beer while the two men moved to a bench. The innkeeper's brother Garred walked with a limp.

"So ye're back?" asked Hareth.

"Hopefully for good," replied his brother, sitting. "I took a pike to the thigh last year. It festered and was a long time healing. By the time I was well enough to travel, the Count's army had moved on. I decided I was better off coming back here."

"What news of His Lordship?" asked the innkeeper.

Garred shook his head. "None good. The prince's feud goes on, and Count Harmon uses it to his advantage. I've seen things he's done, done things he has commanded that I'd just as soon had never happened."

Hareth's brow rose.

Grimly his brother smiled. "It'd be better for us here in Mayvond if maybe His Lordship never returns." He shrugged. "In any case, he'll be a long while before he comes."

Hareth nodded. "That's some comfort, at least."

Leaving the taproom, Siri glanced at the stairs. There she saw Staszi crouched, gazing at the conversants below. The elf's purple eyes flicked to her. Siri returned to the common room and set the beer tankards before the two men.

Garred looked up and flashed her another smile. Siri quavered and looked away. She retreated to the kitchen.

Garred popped an eyebrow. "She's new. Who's she?"

"Siri Caetara."

"Any relation to Romulus Caetara?"

"Cousin, I think," answered Hareth. "I hired her last year. She's good help. 'Fraid to say she's had a run of bad luck. She came here after her parents died." He scowled. "Then we had a bit of trouble last month when some pirates tied her up."

The lines in Garred's face deepened. "The Watch forgot to do their job?"

The innkeeper lowered his head. "We had some rough sorts. They promised not to make trouble and didn't hold their word, but by then they had fifty armed men inside the town, and no one wanted to take them on. So they were let to sail out." His head bowed. "They gave Siri a hard time. She's a bit skittish on account. Can't say as I blame her."

His brother sighed. "Sounds like I came home at the wrong time for peace and quiet. What other excitement have ye had?"

"Well, we've a dark elf."

Garred blinked. "What?"

"A drow," elaborated Hareth. "Short little wench with pointed ears, black skin, white hair, and spooky purple eyes. Dragged herself in here nigh a week ago, paid in gold for a room, and nearly dropped dead. Siri insisted on nursing her back to health, against my better judgment." He grimaced. "Claims something ill happened to the git out in the Wastes."

"Wait," said Garred. "She's female?"

"Like I said," replied Hareth. "What do you know of ‘em?"

His brother shook his head. "Only stories. They're told to be master assassins. They hate sunlight." His head sidled. "And that it's the women that rule the men."

Hareth's eyes bugged out. "Did you hear anything of His Lordship hiring drow, maybe as assassins?"

Garred repeated the negation. "Don't know, but if he did, I'd just as soon as not." He scratched his beard. "What's she said?"

"She hardly speaks a dozen civilized words. She has a name, at least what Siri uses for her. Sounds like ‘Stozzy'.

Just as Garred harumphed, the door banged open. In walked a man wearing leather armor over velvet and a wide plumed hat. Three others followed him, all armed with scimitars or warhammers. They spread through the inn's common room; hands on their weapons.

Garred and Hareth started, half-risen from their benches. The brothers exchanged looks. Hareth squinted warning.

"Good morrow to you, Hareth Invriss!" greeted the leader. "Good to see you again!"

Slowly the innkeeper rose to his full height. "And you, Master Mercrud," he returned, reluctantly. "I didn't expect to see you back in port."

Garred looked again at his brother, then gauged where his greatsword lay out of the corner of his eye.

"We just landed, but don't look so surprised," said the man named Mercrud. "We had such fun last time, we couldn't stay away!" His eyes snapped to Garred: "Who's this?"

"My brother Garred, just come home from the wars," answered Hareth querulously.

"Ah. A soldier." Mercrud appraised him, grinning. "The kind that is looking for a fight?"

"Depends on who's looking," replied Garred.

Mercrud's teeth widened.  "Well, not us," he declared, and looked at Hareth: "We've just come for your ale."

"I'm surprised the Watch let you land," muttered Hareth.

"What, us? I'm hurt!" The pirate's eyes narrowed. "We paid for our fun last time, and they remembered. We flashed ‘em our gold, and they let us tie up, fair and square."

"Well, let me fetch some for you," dissembled the innkeeper, stepping toward the kitchen. "Brother," he called to Gareth: "If ye'd play host to our guests?"

Just then Siri, laden with a tray of bread and cheese, re-entered the common room. She strode halfway across the floor before she caught the newcomers' faces. She jerked to a halt. The tray and food clattered from her hands.

Hareth shook his head. His shoulders drooped as he bit on a curse.

"Well, look who's come to greet us, boys!" crowed Mercrud. He leered at the redhead. "We remember you!"

Siri faltered backward; face pale. Before she could flee, one of the pirates sidled behind her, herding the redhead away from the kitchen.

"What's the matter?" Mercrud turned on her. "Ye're as much the reason we came back as any other." He stepped near. "My boys and I could hardly forget the pleasure of your company last time."

"No!" she pleaded. Her feet hustled backward, but the rear pirate leapt forward and grabbed her arms. They struggled as Mercrud stalked toward her.

Gareth stepped back and reached toward his sword. Another pirate caught his movement and drew his scimitar. "None of that, big man," he challenged.

"That's enough!" shouted Hareth. He stepped toward Mercrud, but another pirate, weapon drawn, intercepted. "Ye can have all the drink ye wish, all the food too, on the house, but leave the girl be."

Mercrud turned to the innkeeper. "What's this inhospitality?" he mocked. "I reckon you and your soldier-brother better think how ye'll leave here alive. We offered to pay, but we'll have our fun too. Now get her on the table!"

He grabbed Siri's legs while the pirate held her struggling arms. They carried her, despite shrieks and kicks, to a table across from the stairs. Meanwhile, the other four pirates corralled the brothers near the front. Hareth gritted his teeth while he watched Siri laid across the board, arms pinned above her head. Helplessly her eyes sought him while Mercrud tore her skirt. He wedged himself between her legs. Beside his brother Garred surveyed the odds, the four pirates with weapons on guard against him and tried to divine an opportunity.

Suddenly the pirate nearest the stairs collapsed. Behind him stood Staszi. She pulled her knife from his back.

Immediately she stepped, raised the blade, and threw. The knife hit Mercrud right above his kidney. As the others watched, he stiffened; hilt sticking out of his back. The dark elf sprang across the room. Her long fingers plucked the knife from his hunched back. She stabbed it downward through his neck.

Garred seized his chance. He grabbed the table he stood next to and lunged. Board and legs flew at the nearest pirate. Unable to dodge the wide missile, he fell screaming under its weight. The soldier forgot him and swerved toward the next in line. He palm-struck the man's weapon hand and shoved him out of the way. His foe stumbled back, flailing.

Hareth blinked at the erupted confusion. He half-started forward as one of the two pirates facing him swerved to aid his fallen chief Mercrud, but the other lifted his warhammer and advanced. The innkeeper stayed out of reach.

Garred tackled the man attacking his brother and slammed him against the wall.

A third time Staszi withdrew her knife while Siri wrestled the pirate holding her arms. The Drow turned and ducked just as the pirate who had left Hareth swung at her. His scimitar whistled over her head. Immediately her whole body punched forward. Knife on point, the bloody blade stabbed into his ribs. Shouting fright and anger, his arms pinioned hers. He twisted while she strove to break free against the larger man.

Garred's fist struck, once, twice, thrice against the pirate he held against wall. As the man's broken face lolled, the soldier plucked the hammer from his hands. He turned and saw Staszi struggling with the wounded man. Behind, the second pirate, whom Garred had shoved out of the fight, circled behind her. Garred charged the entangling pirate and swung the hammerhead into his skull. "Behind you!" he shouted.

As the dead pirate's grip lapsed, Staszi rolled forward out of harm's reach. She spun and rose beside Garred, knife ready.

Against them the lone pirate glanced around. He retreated to where his cohort lay trying to crawl out from the thrown table.

"No, you don't!" roared Garred. He hurried forward to keep the foe from freeing his ally. Staszi copied his action. The standing pirate forsook his friend and fled for the door. The tabled foeman yelled fear. Staszi ended his noise with a smooth thrust to his throat.

Garred turned toward the last pirate, still locked with Siri. With her legs free of Mercrud, she had added them to her throes, still kicking at his head. Hareth came from behind and wrapped his hands around the man's throat. The innkeeper bore him to the floor, choking.

Garred and Staszi paused and looked at each other; big man and little drow. Her violet eyes glinted while she panted. He assessed her compact frame and the speed he had witnessed. Acknowledgingly he nodded.

Siri rolled and fell off the table. She landed sobbing and heaving. Staszi ran to her, knelt, and wrapped the girl in her arms. She whispered soothingly. Fiercely the redhead hugged her back.

Hareth raised bright eyes from the man he had just strangled, wiped bile from his mouth, and gazed on the wreck of his inn. Unsteadily he rose to his feet. "Did we win?"

"For the moment," answered his brother. He strode back to his seat by the wall. "Are these the same pirates as ye mentioned?"

"Aye," answered Hareth.

"Then there's more in the town and on their ship," reasoned the soldier. He drew his greatsword from its sheath. "You, Drow," he called: "Can you fight?"

From where she comforted Siri, Staszi looked up. "Fight?" she repeated.

"Yes." He shook the massive blade and pointed at the fallen bodies. "There's more to fight; more to kill. You understand?"

"Kill," replied the drow.

She squeezed Siri's hands. She laid a kiss on the redhead's brow. Then she rose and retrieved her red-glass spectacles from the stairs. Transferring the dagger to her left hand, she plucked a shortsword from one of the dead foe. "Fight," she repeated huskily.

Garred nodded to her. "Hareth, go raise the alarm," he ordered. "The drow and I will see to business."

Together they headed out the door. As they hit the light, Staszi settled her glasses more firmly. Even with them she hissed at the brightness.

Garred glanced to her. "You all right?"

"All right," came the drow's terse reply.

"Good," he grunted, looking out to the street: "Because here comes trouble."

Down the lane came another half-dozen figures, armed with swords, maces, and axes. Garred sighed as he stepped to the inn's porch; sword laid across his shoulder. This time, he and the dark elf did not have surprise.

While he considered their best strategy, Staszi walked to the porch's edge, blurred, and faded. The soldier's eyes widened as she vanished from sight. Then he smiled.

He hurried from the porch to the street's middle. There he took a stand, casually facing the pirates. "That's far enough!"

The ragtag marauders slowed and readied their weapons. "Ye're dead, big man!" snarled one. "We'll put your eyes out, cut off your cods, and sell you for a dancing bear!"

Garred held his ground. He let them get close and start to encircle him, trusting his invisible ally. "Funny to think I'd be threatened by a pox-covered, drip-ass whoreson like you," he bellowed. "I could kill a dozen of your kind without breaking a sweat." Wandlike he waved his big sword and enjoyed making them flinch.

"Take him, lads!" cried their leader. "He's just one. I'll give ten gold crowns to the man who shoves a blade up his arse!"

Just as Garred braced for their charge, the rightmost pirate fell. At the same time his neighbor cried out. Blood flowed from his side. Behind him flickered a shadowy form: the black elf striking.

Garred charged the leftmost end of the line as they sought their unknown attacker. Two sweeps of his blade dropped the first foe. The soldier turned inward, forcing the remaining pirates back on themselves, back where Staszi lurked unseen. The pirates cried out as they stumbled over themselves, trying to avoid both his long blade and hers. Garred saw another fall, even while his sword crunched home again. Soon all the pirates lay bleeding in the street.

Amid the sprawl Staszi returned to view as abruptly as she had disappeared. She eyed his bloody greatsword and nodded.

"Well done," praised Garred. "Now we must get to their ship."

"Ship?" she asked.

"Yes. That's where they'll regroup when they hear the alarm. Come with me."

He led her toward the harbor. As they went, townsfolk came out of their houses and shops. Some of them bore swords or clubs. They followed after the soldier and the Drow.

At the harbor gate a pair of watchmen, armored and bearing crossbows met them. "You can't go down there!" one forbade.

"These ungrateful dog-sons tried to ravish a maid and to kill me and my brother," shouted back Garred. "And ye're going to protect them!?"

The Watch glanced at each other. They stood aside from the mob.

There on the wharf moored the ship. More pirates, maybe a dozen, gathered on its deck. Some carried crossbows. Staszi again vanished.

Garred noted her disappearance and stepped out slowly. "Hail the ship!" he called.

"That's far enough!" returned a man, brandishing a spanned bow and armed bolt. He eyed the crowd. "Who be ye, and what's your business?"

Garred smiled easily, despite the bloody sword in his hands and reckoned the time it would take to cross the wharf and reach the ship. "Let's just say we're a group of concerned citizens. We'd like to discuss your crew's conduct in our fair town."

"And who be ye as I should give a pissboy's yeasty bum what ye think!" cracked the pirate.

"Well then, let's not lose time with small-talk," replied Garred. He caught a swaying of the hawser cords tying the ship to the wharf, as if someone was walking across it. "I'll give you this one chance to leave dock, sail away, and never return."

The pirate's eyes bleared at the assembled townsfolk. "The first of you liverless land-loving dogs to come near this boat will get an arrow through the gizzard!" He waved the crossbow threatfully. Other marksmen joined him at the gunwale. "And you, ye oversized loud-mouthed, landlubber, I should skewer your throat just for speaking!"

"Well, is there any chance we could be reasonable about this?" stalled Garred. He avoided looking at the hawser, but out of his eye's corner its quivering quickened, as if its passenger has reached the upper end.

"What do ye mean?" The pirate shook his head. "The Watch already let us tie up."

"The Watch doesn't run things around here," replied Garred. He spoke loudly, but as gently as he could while he tallied the pirates on deck. "You're far better off talking with someone like me."

"Like you?" The pirate sneered. "And who in Hell are you?"

Garred smiled back. "The man who'll kill you. That's who."

The pirate-chief fewtered his crossbow, aimed at Garred. "Ye'll die," he threatened.

As if on cue, the pirate on the ships' bowsprit fell. The man right next to him likewise staggered. Briefly a shadowy lithe form appeared, brandishing blades. The remaining pirates flinched at their comrades' demise.

Immediately Garred stepped sideward, out of the pirate-chief's aim. He raised his sword, rushed forward, and yelled a charge.

The chief's eye returned to target. He touched the trigger, and the bolt blurrily sped off. It whistled just a foot from Garred's arm. The big man ignored it, hoping it hit no one else, also hoping the townsfolk were following him toward the ship. A roar of voices behind told him they were.

The soldier reached the gangplank without any other shots winging at him. On board, he found chaos as the pirates circled the deck in confusion. More were bleeding; more swung their blades at empty air as they tried to hold off the phantom assailant. Up the ramp Garred bounded and threw himself at the first knot of defenders. He swung his sword with both hands and hewed.

Once the mob got aboard, their numbers drove the pirates into the sea. From the steering deck Garred surveyed their victory. Riven bodies lay twisted on the bloody deck. Clumps of townsfolk were savaging remaining victims. Gangs of pirates might still wander in town, but the townsfolk could corner and hunt them down.

He looked across the deck for Staszi, but saw no sign of the dark elf. Curious, he left the steering deck and searched.

Forward amidships, he spotted a fat corpse, possibly the crew's cook. From it sounded a tiny voice: "Help!"

Garred stopped. From underneath the body came a long dark hand, obscured by the dead bulk. "That you, elf?" he questioned.

The hand flapped. "Help," repeated the muffled voice.

Garred chuckled. He stooped and rolled the body over. There lay Staszi, blood-covered and rumpled, from under the fallen victim. Gently he lifted her up. The drow groaned at the pressure on her arms and ribs.

"Still only half-healed," wondered the soldier. Grimly he laughed. "I'd hate to see what you do at full strength." He hoisted her in his arms and carried her off the ship.

---

Late that night, after the last pirates were hunted down, after the bodies were hauled outside of the town walls, and after Hareth cleaned all the blood off the inn floor, Staszi washed herself in the bath house. After drying and dressing, she re-entered the inn, climbed the stairs, and traversed the hallway to its far end. She reached her room and opened the door.

There she halted and surveyed the small chamber, taking in its changes. Candlelight illumined it, limning a figure sitting on the bed. It was Siri.

"Hello," greeted the maid. Her voice quavered. "I- I wanted to thank you for saving me."

The drow regarded the redhead woman. Slowly she shut the door behind her. "Thank you?" she repeated.

"Yes. Thank you." The redhead's hands clasped each other. She stood and moved to Staszi. "You saved me."

Gently, lest she startle the drow, Siri put her arms around her. She laid a kiss on the elf's dark cheek. The maid leaned back, but did not release her hold. Instead, her brown eyes stared into Staszi's lavender orbs, who in turn studied her.

"You- you made me... feel something yesterday," stammered the redhead.

Staszi's eyes continued to search. "Feel?"

"Yes. In the bath. You made me feel something when you..." Trembling, she took Staszi's hands and placed them on her breasts. "When you did this. I don't understand."

Staszi's long dark fingers entwined with Siri's. Ever so lightly her thumbs stroked the curves of Siri's cleavage. Siri shuddered harder. Tears glistened in her eyes. Her hand rose and stroked the drow's white hair. "Do you want me?" she whispered.

Staszi pressed closer, nose to nose with the maid. "Want you," she whispered back.

The tears dripped from Siri's eyes. "I don't understand. How do you-"

"Want you!" growled the dark elf. She seized the girl's shoulders and kissed her.

Siri whimpered as she tasted the grapelike fullness of the drow's lips, her skin's muskiness. Knees weak, she braced herself against the bedpost as Staszi's arms tightened. Their tongues wrestled, drawing their embrace from one long breath to another. Staszi's teeth bit on Siri's lip, ignoring her gasp.

Siri trailed kisses along the black skin of the drow's neck, slowly up to the base of her pointed ear. The featherlike touch froze the elf. Siri breathed, barely touching the elf's scarred, savaged pinna. Staszi did not move. The quietest gasp of anguish squeaked out.

Staszi's deft fingers raced to the laces of Siri's gown. She drew down the redhead's bodice and forced it over her hips. The whole outer dress dropped to the floor. Through Siri's thin undergown Staszi marked her lover's nipples pointing against the fabric. The drow's hands dropped to the shift's hem. They lifted, running up Siri's calves, up her thighs, to where the girl's hips swelled out. There they clasped and squeezed softly. Siri moaned.

"Teach me?" she pleaded.

"Teach you," agreed the dark elf. She forced another kiss on the maid as she tore the undergown from her pale body. Staszi's borrowed blouse soon joined the other on the floor. The drow stood before the redhead human, shorter, darkly lean and naked, impaled bosom dwarfed by Siri's unblemished orbs. She took Siri's hand, drew the maid to the bed, and set her on the edge. There she stood over her human lover and embraced her.

For the first time Siri lowered her mouth to the she-drow's breasts. She kissed each nipple, first tentatively, uncertain of the piercing bars. Then more boldly she let her tongue work and sucked them into her mouth. Staszi groaned through her chest. Impatiently the Drow knelt before the human woman and grabbed her legs. Siri blushed as her knees were parted. Her shamed hand dropped and covered her sex crouching at the bed's edge.

"No," chided Staszi. She seized Siri's wrist and pulled it away. Nothing lay between her and Siri's womanhood. The dark elf gazed down on it, a ruddy peach of fine hairs grazing fruitlike folds. She hunched forward and nestled her head between the maid's trembling thighs.

Her tongue explored, opened the tender lips, and found Siri's core, tasting her scented juice. Against the rhythm of Siri's gasps, Staszi's mouth worked. When the redhead's hands tightened around Staszi's head, the dark elf's long fingers began to probe. They found her lover's recess, and elicited a full cry from Siri. Staszi thrust in and held her lover transfixed. She repeated and tickled from the inside, pressing and coaxing, pressing and coaxing until the rounded belly yielded.

For a long while afterward, Siri lay and held Staszi in her arms. Silently the maid wept, smiling. She stirred only to kiss her lover's black forehead and white hair, to stroke between her shoulderblades down to the crevice of her hips. The redhead giggled.

"I never would have believed it." Again she laid her lips on Staszi's. "You make me feel wonder."

Staszi returned the kiss and gazed back. If the drow knew any words to say, she kept them.

"You've done this before?" asked the maid. "With other women? Forgive me. That's a foolish question." She hung her head. "Rather, I should thank you."

Staszi's fingers wrapped around Siri's and squeezed.

"Do you want...?" stammered Siri. "Do you want me to-"

"Want you," pleaded Staszi. Again her hand squeezed Siri's. "Want you."

Siri rose, kneeling upon the bed while the drow lay on her back. She stared downward worshipfully over her lover's body, marveled how its dark curves blended with the shadows. Her hand started with what she knew, Staszi's breasts. Slowly she trailed downward, across the dark elf's still bruised ribs, across the softly rippled belly. Her finger traced the navel's chasm, circled, and wandered lower, where waited Staszi's downy groin. Sighing, the dark elf surrendered and spread her legs.

Siri's hand reached the sloping furrow of Staszi's sex. She parted the soft outer folds, revealing a plumlike fruit, wet as if crushed, syrupy sap escaping. It started where a ruby-like bud jutted as if it were the neck that connected to the tree stem. Then it curved down to the hiding-place of her hollows. Siri leaned closer, hovering just above the scented prize. Tentatively she reached for the bud.

Siri looked upward at her lover's face. "Teach me," she begged again.

"Teach you," reaffirmed Staszi. Her fingers again sought the maid's and pressed them against her woman-spot. "Teach you," she repeated, and grabbed Siri's other hand. She shoved it toward her channel. "Want you. Want you!..."

At dawn, as usual, Siri woke. She found Staszi awake, but lying beside her. Rising, the redhead kissed the dark elf. She laughed at the sight of those lavender eyes smiling at her. Then she dressed and went downstairs to build the hearth-fires.

Hareth came downstairs to find the maid cleaning tables while she sang to herself. She flashed him a bright smile. The innkeeper blinked back and grumbled a greeting. Puzzledly he looked after her and scratched his beard as she skipped to her next chore.

Later, Garred likewise craned his neck as Siri danced by, sweeping the foyer. The soldier limped to the table where Hareth was refilling bottles and sat across the table from his brother. "What's gotten into her?"

"That's as she was when I came down," answered his innkeeper. "Cursed odd, especially after what happened yesterday."

Garred shrugged. "Maybe a vengeance-letting on those what done her ill did some good."

"That's as likely as I can think," agreed his brother. He snorted. "‘Twere anybody else, I'd say she had a sweetheart. Did you bed her?" he suddently asked, half-accusing.

Garred shook his head. "Not I."

The innkeeper returned to his task. "It's just strange, I wonder."

The soldier's frowned turned thoughtful. "Maybe we shouldn't think on that. The girl's happy, at least."

"True," said Hareth.

Garred grabbed a tankard. He stood and headed to the taproom. When he came back out, sipping ale, he saw the dark elf by the hearth, pouring some tea. Staszi looked up. She gave a slight nod of greeting. Her red-glass spectacles masked her person, but something in her expression shone as smug, or maybe content. Garred nodded back. The big man lowered his eyes and kept walking.

Siri returned and approached Staszi by the hearth. "Good morning, dear one." Her broad smile gleamed. "Did you sleep well."

The drow's reserve broke. He face quickly mirrored the maid's face.

Siri stood in front of her, grin irrepressible. "So..."

The drow lifted a silver eyebrow.

"So," the redhead giggled. "This makes no sense to me, but I think this feels like love."

"Love?" repeated Staszi

"Yes, love." Siri cocked her head. "Do you understand love?"

The dark elf shook her head.

Siri's smile bent sideward. "Well, we shall need to see about that."

She leaned forward and kissed Staszi's cheek, ignoring the men who feigned not to watch the two women.

The End

---