Gazing at the Distant Lights, Part 2
Dec. 24th, 2008 09:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamcranverPart 1
She ambled aimlessly along down the street in the opposite direction from Chris and Darren until she came to a building that looked like an inn. Inside was a sweaty little man poring over a large book behind a desk. “Excuse me,” she said to him. “Can I get a room here for tonight?”
“That depends,” said the man irritably. “Do you have five silver coins?” The way he was looking at her, sort of scornful and disgusted, said that he thought she didn’t, and she almost wanted to pull the signet ring out of her pocket. Instead, she felt around for her money purse, and oh. Oh, she had left it with Bob. All the money she had was the silver piece Darren and Chris had given her. “I was just wondering,” she said, and gave the man behind the desk a snooty look.
She tried every inn on the street, but five silver pieces was actually one of the cheapest prices she could get. Some of them were three or four, but she couldn’t pay that, either; some were as expensive as ten or fifteen silver pieces, or a gold piece; the man behind the desk at one had said she could have the room for free, if she were willing to perform some service to pay for her keep, but the leering, menacing smile on his face had made her skin crawl, and she’d gotten out of that one and run a block before her heart stopped racing.
It was almost totally dark, now, and she still had nowhere to stay. Theoretically, she supposed, she could walk to the castle and present her signet ring, but she really didn’t want to face her father’s wrath yet, and besides, though she could see the castle’s towers in the distance, it was probably a few more hours’ walk to get there, assuming she didn’t get lost, and her feet were really starting to ache at this point. Well, she told herself, she had wanted an adventure, after all. Surely, if she found an out-of-the-way sort of alley, she could camp there for the night, and head for the palace in the morning.
Her stomach growled, and she thought on the way she’d look for something to eat.
All the shops were closed, though, which was rather unfortunate. She really should have bought something earlier, when the streets were still bustling with shoppers. Still, it wasn’t all bad. As she walked along the street where she’d seen the line of booths during the day, she saw an alley with a dark, squarish sort of shape against the wall of a shop. As she went closer, she found it was a refuse bin, and the shop next to it was clearly some sort of bakery, because the bin was full of the ends of bread loaves and burnt pieces of pie. The whole alley was covered in an awning, and Greta felt rather proud of herself for finding dinner and a place to stay all in one go.
She dug through the bin eagerly and pulled out half a loaf. This was just like something out of a book, she thought happily, and she took a bite. It wasn’t half bad—a little stale, but still good, with a nice, hearty wheaty flavor.
“Whoa,” came a deep voice from the opposite end of the alley. “I’ve eaten out of the trash before, but I never got excited about it.”
Greta looked up. Standing between two buildings a little way down the alley was a tall, skinny man silhouetted in the light of the street lamps. Surely if he were a thief or a scoundrel, she thought, he would have already come closer to steal her purse, if she had one. So she called out, “This bread’s actually quite good. Do you want some?”
She couldn’t make out the man’s facial expression, but his voice was toneless as he said, “No, thanks. Why don’t you come here?”
Perhaps she was being foolish, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t hold her own in a fight if she really wanted to; she’d made Bob cry countless times growing up, pulling his hair and knowing where to kick. She drew a little closer, and as she did, another man approached the skinny one, this one slightly shorter with wild dark hair.
“Who’s this?” he asked the skinny man.
“Some girl eating out of the trash bin,” the first man said flatly, and the second man’s face went pale and horrified.
“Oh, don’t, don’t eat that,” said the second man, turning to Greta. “Here, wait a second.” He ran back to a little booth a ways down the street and came back with an apple and a cheese-covered biscuit. “Please,” he said, and he held the food out to Greta. “Take this.”
“All right,” she said. “All I have is a silver coin, though, I don’t know how much this costs.” She pulled the coin out of her skirt pocket, but the man shook his head furiously.
“No, no, just take it.”
“My brother, the businessman,” sighed the skinny man, but he nodded at Greta. “Go on.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, and she put the coin back in her pocket and took the biscuit. It was cold, but still good, and she finished it off quickly before biting into the apple. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry. When she’d eaten the apple, she smiled politely at the men, who’d watched her eat with concerned expressions, and said, “I’m Greta.”
“I’m Gerard,” said the wild-haired man. “And this is my brother, Mikey.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Greta. She hoped they weren’t bandits or scoundrels like the man in the frightening inn, because they seemed rather nice so far.
“Do you have someplace to spend the night, Greta?” asked Gerard, pursing his lips worriedly.
“I was just going to sleep in this alley,” she said. “It’s got an awning over it and everything!”
A smile twitched at the corner of Mikey’s lips, but Gerard looked profoundly unhappy, and he gave Mikey a questioning look. Mikey rolled his eyes and said, “No, Gerard. We don’t have the space and we don’t have the money. Think of the baby.”
Gerard looked even more profoundly unhappy at that, and said, “But we can’t just let her sleep out on the streets like this! There are all kinds of, of bad people in this city, and think how terrible you’d feel if something bad happened to her!”
Greta understood, now—they thought she was a poor person, like Chris or Darren, only so poor that she had to sleep in alleys and eat out of rubbish bins all the time. She couldn’t let them worry like that, even if it did end up spoiling her adventure, so she said, “Oh, nothing bad’s going to happen to me. I’m the princess.”
It was almost comical, like watching some kind of mechanical toys operating in tandem; Gerard’s eyes grew huge, while Mikey’s narrowed into slits as he fixed Greta with a sharp gaze. “What?” he said. It hardly even sounded like a question.
“I’m the princess,” she repeated. “I know I don’t really look like a princess, but that’s because I changed clothes with a musician on my way here, because I didn’t want to sit at stupid banquets with my stupid father.”
Spoken out loud like that, it didn’t sound very plausible, and clearly the brothers agreed, because Gerard was looking at her with a pitying expression on his face and Mikey looked supremely distrustful.
“Mikey….” Gerard began, but Mikey scowled.
“For fuck’s sake, you want some crazy person to sleep in our house with your wife and infant daughter—and my wife, for that matter—across the hall?”
Greta felt a bit offended. “I’m not crazy,” she said, and she pulled out her signet ring. “See? That’s the sign of the royal family.”
Gerard leaned closer to look at it. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Where’d you get that?”
“My father, the king,” said Greta. “I told you, I’m the princess.”
“Right,” said Mikey slowly. He peered at Greta appraisingly, as if he were weighing her up and judging what he saw. She didn’t entirely like it.
Gerard put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Mikey, we can’t….”
“What about Gabe?” Mikey interrupted. Gerard made a face, and Mikey sighed. “No, think about it,” he said. “The garbage-eating, the stealing--”
“I didn’t steal anything!” Greta exclaimed, offended.
“….the crazy,” Mikey continued, acting as if he hadn’t even heard Greta. “She’ll fit right in. Besides, you know they’ve got plenty of money, and they’re good people. They won’t hurt her.”
“Stealing’s pretty dangerous,” said Gerard with a frown. “They wouldn’t hurt her, but she might get hurt.” Oh, God, thought Greta, Gabe—and whoever else they were talking about—was a bandit, an actual bandit. She supposed she ought to be afraid, but the thrill making her arms jittery and her chest too small to contain her heart was more about excitement than fear.
“Well, she might get hurt living on the streets, too,” Mikey said, as if the argument was concluded.
The two of them seemed to have a silent discussion, then, conducted entirely with the slant of their eyebrows and the twist of their mouths, before Gerard turned to Greta with a hesitant expression on his face. “You really shouldn’t sleep in the alley, you know,” he said. “If you’d like, we have some friends who live right outside the city, and we’re pretty sure they’d be able to put you up for the night, maybe even longer.”
“All right,” Greta said. Gerard and Mikey seemed like respectable sorts of people, even if they were friends with bandits, and she was really getting quite tired. Any place to sleep was a good place, as far as she was concerned.
“Right,” said Gerard with a quick smile. “Let me go and….” He dashed off to a dingy little house behind the little booth where he’d gotten the biscuit. In the doorway, Greta could see a dark-haired woman holding a baby. Gerard and the woman exchanged some words and a kiss, and he kissed the baby on the head before running back to Mikey and Greta. “Lindsey says to be back by midnight,” he said. “I told her to tell Alicia where we’re going.”
“Great,” Mikey said, sounding a little impatient under his calm tone. “Let’s go.”
The walk out of the city wasn’t long—apparently, there was a back way. When Greta asked if they’d have to show papers to any guards, Mikey said that there weren’t any guards at that door. Greta would have asked why, but Mikey and Gerard both seemed rather cagey about it, so she decided it was to do with something secret and illegal—probably smuggling or something—and didn’t ask any more.
It was a cool night, with a clear black sky and a thousand stars casting a misty bluish light over the woods outside the city. It felt beautiful and wild and ancient, and Greta probably would have enjoyed it a lot more if her feet hadn’t ached with blisters and her limbs hadn’t felt like lead. She wasn’t used to this much walking in one day.
They finally stopped in front of what looked like a cave, its entrance blocked off by large stones. Greta wondered if Mikey and Gerard’s friends actually lived there; the alley might not have been her bed at the palace, but it was probably more comfortable than a cave. “Gabe!” Mikey called. There was no answer but the echo of Mikey’s voice. “It’s Mikey Way,” Mikey called again. “I’ve got to talk to you.” Still no answer. Mikey sighed. “The worm seeks an audience with the cobra,” he called, and one of the rocks moved aside to reveal a man, even taller and skinnier than Mikey, with a bright smile on his face.
“If it isn’t Mikey fuckin’ Way,” he said, skipping out of the cave and shaking Mikey’s hand. “And Gerard! How’s things, Gerard? How’s the book coming?”
“It’s all right,” said Gerard with an uncomfortable little shrug. “Hard to find the time to write, but, you know, I have ideas. But, um, I should--Greta, this is our friend, Gabe Saporta. Gabe, this is Greta.”
“Oh, like the princess?” Gabe asked, and Mikey groaned.
“Don’t encourage her,” he said.
Greta was too tired to stamp her foot with frustration, but that didn’t stop her from trying. It probably looked more like she was tired and trying to give one of her sore feet a rest by leaning on the other one, but it was as close to a stamp as she could give. “I am the princess,” she said.
Gabe raised his eyebrows, and Gerard sighed. “We found her in the alley by our stand,” he said. “She was eating out of the garbage, and she said she was gonna sleep in the alley, so we thought….” His voice trailed off nervously. He worried his lower lip with his teeth for a moment before saying, “Sorry to impose, but could she maybe stay the night with you?”
“God’s thumbs,” said Gabe. “How on earth do you find these people?”
“Just lucky, I guess.” Mikey didn’t have to sound so glum about it, really. It wasn’t like Greta had asked him and Gerard to interrupt her mid-bread loaf.
Gabe scratched his chin thoughtfully. “No, no, I think it’s more that like attracts like.” He shrugged expansively. “Okay. I’m game. I can put up your princess for the night.” He smiled hugely again and said, “Now you have to come in. The rest of the gang will be terribly hurt if you don’t come and say hello.”
“I don’t know,” said Gerard, shifting back and forth from foot to foot. “We’re supposed to be back by midnight, and….”
“It’s scarcely half-past ten now!” said Gabe with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Come on, be a good sport.”
Gerard still looked hesitant, but Mikey gave Gabe an amused half-smile and vanished into the dark of the cave. Gabe grinned triumphantly and made a large, dramatic gesture ushering Gerard and Greta in. Greta wasn’t about to go back and tell Bob she’d been a coward, so she strode firmly into the black space between the rocks.
Inside the cave, she was surprised to find that the floor wasn’t wet or rocky or cold at all—there was a passageway lined with dry sand, and she thought she could see the flickering orange light of a fire a ways down and off to one side. She followed the light, and the sound of murmuring voices, along the narrow stone corridor.
After a minute or so, she emerged into a large open space with a fire. Sitting around the fire were three strange men, a woman, and Mikey, all of whom looked up as she stepped in. Greta couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous—she didn’t know any of these people, and the notion of sleeping in a den of bandits was a great deal more appealing when you were reading about it than when it was a definite possibility in your near future. Still, she was the princess, so she set her chin at a regal, determined angle and curtsied to the assembled people.
One of the men, as tall and thin as Gabe but with wavier hair and a longer face, laughed, and the man sitting next to him looked at Greta with an utterly baffled expression. Mikey sighed, and the woman stared at Greta, her face as unreadable and smooth as the statue of a goddess. Greta felt her cheeks burn. It wasn’t as if she’d never been the center of attention, but…well, she felt rather exposed without the assurance of knowing she would be treated like royalty. What’s more, the woman was strikingly beautiful, with long legs and delicate features and waves of shiny dark hair—Greta didn’t know why that should make any difference at all, but it did.
“Well, friends, look who’s come to see us!” Greta started at the sound of Gabe’s voice. She hadn’t realized that he and Gerard had come in, and she whirled around to look at him. He was beaming at the little cluster of people, and he made a sweeping motion with his arms. “Our old companions the Way brothers have come to pay a call, and they’ve brought their charming new acquaintance, Princess Greta.”
“Princess?” one of the strange men said with a snort. He didn’t look much more than a boy.
“That’s what she said,” said Mikey. “And she had the ring to prove it.”
The man who had looked baffled before gave Greta another look, keen and knowing. “Ah,” he said. “So she’s one of us, then.”
Mikey shrugged. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“I’m not a bandit,” Greta said indignantly. Really, she wasn’t the sort who thought royal blood made you better than anyone else, but she resented being thought of as a thief. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”
“Because you’re the princess,” the tall stranger offered helpfully.
“Well…yes!”
The woman made a rude noise, and the boy shot her a quick grin. Greta felt her temper rise. “I don’t understand why none of you will believe me!” she said. “All I wanted was one day, one day when I didn’t have to sit at boring banquets and simper and prance about like an idiot, but I forgot my money and all the inns are shamefully expensive—and some of them are just shameful—and I’ve been walking all day and everyone thinks I’m a thief and….” She was breathing hard, now, and she could feel tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
Gabe dropped an arm like a heavy, warm scarf around her shoulders. “There, there, Princess,” he said, and she couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was serious or not. “I know exactly what you mean. None of these simpletons believed me when I had my vision of the serpent god, either.”
“You and your cobra,” said the tall stranger exasperatedly. “Come on, Princess, sit down. You, too, Gerard.”
Greta stepped hesitantly closer as Gabe settled himself next to the tall man, but Gerard stood awkwardly by the entrance, wringing his hands. “I don’t know,” he said, looking anxiously at Mikey. “Maybe we ought to go. I don’t like…I mean, the guards. We’re not supposed to be out past curfew.”
Mikey’s expression made it clear just how little he worried about being out past curfew, but he unfolded his skinny limbs and stood up, waving half-heartedly at the group around the fire. He drew close to his brother and whispered something to him.
Gerard wrinkled his nose. “Mikey, I don’t….”
“Think of Helena.” Mikey’s expression was stern and implacable.
“What’s up?” asked Gabe, standing up again and walking over to where the brothers were standing. The men in Gabe’s group looked on curiously, so they at least were as ignorant as Greta. The woman’s expression was still totally unreadable.
Gerard looked like would have rather cut off his own hand than say whatever it was he had to say to Gabe, but he spoke anyway. “I don’t…I hate to ask, especially when you’re already doing us a favor, but…with this last drought, and the taxes, and the baby, and….”
Gabe reached out and grasped Gerard’s arm, his expression suddenly fierce. His voice was low as he said, “You don’t have to beg me, brother. Not ever. You’re family.” Without turning his head, he said, “Alex, would you run and get me one of the small bags?”
One of the men nodded and hopped to his feet, walking away from the fire and vanishing into the back of the cave. It was almost straight out of a tale, Greta thought approvingly; the bandits really had made a lair in a cave.
Alex reappeared a minute later with a little pouch. From the way it clanked when he put it into Gabe’s hand, Greta figured it was probably full of money.
Gabe handed the pouch to Gerard, still looking grave and a little savage. “Here,” he said. “You need more, you come to me.”
Gerard looked to Mikey, back to Gabe, and then at his feet. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he mumbled. “We’ll pay you back, I promise.”
“You just name a character in that epic poem of yours after me, huh?” said Gabe, patting Gerard’s arm once more.
“The villain still doesn’t have a name,” said Mikey with a bored expression on his face.
Gabe laughed. “Hey, you tell Alicia if she ever gets sick of the ways of the Ways, she’s welcome here any time. God only knows how she puts up with you.”
“God only knows,” Mikey repeated. “Come by next time you’re in town.”
“Will do,” said Gabe with a nod. “Hey, you two, take care of yourselves.”
“Likewise.” Mikey nodded back at Gabe, turned, and vanished into the corridor that led outside.
Gerard gave Gabe a small smile and waved at Greta. “Thanks again,” he said to Gabe, and to Greta, “If you need anything, Mikey and me are at the stand from sunup to sundown, pretty much.”
Greta couldn’t imagine what she’d need, and if they were so poor they had to ask for money from a bunch of thieves, she wasn’t about to take anything from them, but she nodded nonetheless.
Gerard turned and disappeared after his brother, and Greta was alone in the den of thieves.
“Well,” said Gabe, rubbing his hands together, “I suppose I’d better introduce our lovely guest to everyone, right? Greta, this is Ryland”—the tall man—“Alex”—the dark-haired man who’d run to fetch the money—“Nate”—the young man, who was leaning against the woman’s side now—“and Victoria.” Victoria. It suited her, thought Greta.
“Welcome,” Ryland said. “We needed some fresh blood around here.”
“Where’s she going to sleep?” Victoria asked, looking pointedly at Gabe, as if she couldn’t even see Greta.
Gabe shrugged. “Well, I thought we’d make up a bed for her in your room.” Victoria narrowed her eyes at him, and he added, “Of course, we could always put her in here—it’s certainly warm enough with the fire.”
Greta wasn’t wild about sleeping right next to the entrance. Who knew what kind of animals crept into a cave at night? Still, it was better than the alley, and this was an adventure, after all. She was actually starting to look forward to going back to the palace a bit, if only to talk about what she’d done and where she’d been. Patrick would just die when he heard about this.
“Hey,” said Alex, “You hungry?”
Greta’s stomach growled. It had been a while since the apple and biscuit Gerard had given her, and it hadn’t been a lot of food then. Alex smiled, and scooped something out of the ashes underneath the fire. It was a little pot, which he put down in front of Greta. “Don’t touch,” he said. “It’s hot.” He dug a spoon out of his pocket and knocked the lid of the pot off with it. Suddenly a warm, spicy smell filled the cave, and Greta peered down into the pot. It looked like stew of some sort; she could make out chunks of potato and carrot and cabbage, and cooked kernels of grain. Her stomach growled again. Alex grinned and handed her the spoon. “Enjoy,” he said.
She smiled back at him. “Thank you very much.” She took a bite. It burned her tongue, it was so hot, but it tasted just as good as it looked. “This is delicious!” she said.
Alex beamed proudly. “I thought this batch was gonna turn out pretty well. The grain really adds something, doesn’t it?”
Before she could answer, Nate had scooted around the fire to sit next to her. “Can I see the ring? Mikey said you had a ring.” Greta didn’t see the harm in showing it to him, so she pulled it out of her pocket, and he whistled low and long. “Good job,” he said. “Rings are hard. Unless the mark isn’t wearing them. Was she wearing it?”
Greta had no idea what he was talking about, though she thought it probably had something to do with stealing. “I didn’t steal this,” she said. “My father gave it to me.”
“Fair enough,” said Nate, nodding. “I wonder where he got it.”
“He didn’t steal it, either. He’s the king.”
Victoria made a rude noise from across the fire. “Sure,” she said. “And I’m the Grand Duchess of Whatthefuckever.” With that, she stood and stalked out of the room, vanishing into the corridor at the back. Gabe frowned, made a vague motion with his hand at the rest, and followed her.
Alex winced. “Don’t mind her,” he said. “Victoria’s not big on having strangers here.”
“Well, in all fairness, the last stranger we had here gave us over to king’s justice because she was obsessed with Gabe,” said Ryland. “And she wasn’t even really a stranger, she was an old friend of Gabe’s.” He squinted at Greta and said, “Hey, you’re not planning on seducing one of us and turning us in to the law if we turn you down, right?” His tone was light, but something about it made Greta wonder if he were actually serious.
“Wasn’t planning on it, no,” she said. “I’m going home tomorrow. I convinced this musician I met to pretend to be me for a couple of days, but I don’t want anyone who actually knows what I look like to give her away, you know? We don’t really look alike.”
“No joke,” Ryland said. “I caught a glimpse of the princess when her carriage drove past this afternoon, and I have to say, your story’s really not gonna convince anyone else who saw her. Or who has eyes. Hey, I don’t tell anyone else how to run their cons, but you’d have much better luck if you pawned the ring and bought some fancy clothes. A ring on its own isn’t gonna prove nobility at all, much less royalty. Some nice clothes, on the other hand….”
It was his tone more than anything that irritated her; it had a sort of patronizing calmness that reminded her of her tutors. “I don’t even care if you believe me,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll be back in the palace, and you’ll still be sitting around in this cave, and then we’ll see who’s the clever one.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Alex with a sigh, “let’s not fight about it. You can be anyone you want to be here.” He nudged Greta’s knee with his own, and added, “Finish your stew.”
Gabe never did reappear, and Greta wondered if he and Victoria were lovers. It would make sense, that the leader of the gang had a paramour while the rest of them didn’t—the bandits in the tales always had one fair maiden, but only one, and she was always in love with the most daring and brave man in the gang. Gabe didn’t seem that daring and brave, though, even if he had been kind enough to let Greta spend the night, and Greta couldn’t imagine Victoria would thank him for that.
After a while, Nate started nodding off, and Alex said, “We should turn in, before one of us accidentally sets himself on fire.”
“Plus, we wouldn’t want to keep our guest awake,” said Ryland, wiggling his eyebrows in Greta’s direction. “I’m sure she’s had a long day.”
Greta wasn’t planning on dignifying that with an angry response; instead, she just tipped her head back the way she did when she was trying to scare off a particularly boring suitor, and said, “Good night.”
“G’night,” said Nate, and Alex reached into the corner to toss Greta a blanket before the three of them went down the mysterious back corridor. Greta wondered what was back there, and whether they’d let her see it. If it was where their secret plans were made and their loot was stored, probably not. Maybe they kept the skulls of their enemies back there, like trophies. Maybe the cave had a secret, underground cavern, with a lake and a boat where they could ship their booty out.
The sand on the floor of the room was warm, and the smoldering coals from the fire cast a little orange light, so Greta curled into the blanket and thought about thieves and rings and cheese biscuits until she stopped thinking altogether.
Part 3
She ambled aimlessly along down the street in the opposite direction from Chris and Darren until she came to a building that looked like an inn. Inside was a sweaty little man poring over a large book behind a desk. “Excuse me,” she said to him. “Can I get a room here for tonight?”
“That depends,” said the man irritably. “Do you have five silver coins?” The way he was looking at her, sort of scornful and disgusted, said that he thought she didn’t, and she almost wanted to pull the signet ring out of her pocket. Instead, she felt around for her money purse, and oh. Oh, she had left it with Bob. All the money she had was the silver piece Darren and Chris had given her. “I was just wondering,” she said, and gave the man behind the desk a snooty look.
She tried every inn on the street, but five silver pieces was actually one of the cheapest prices she could get. Some of them were three or four, but she couldn’t pay that, either; some were as expensive as ten or fifteen silver pieces, or a gold piece; the man behind the desk at one had said she could have the room for free, if she were willing to perform some service to pay for her keep, but the leering, menacing smile on his face had made her skin crawl, and she’d gotten out of that one and run a block before her heart stopped racing.
It was almost totally dark, now, and she still had nowhere to stay. Theoretically, she supposed, she could walk to the castle and present her signet ring, but she really didn’t want to face her father’s wrath yet, and besides, though she could see the castle’s towers in the distance, it was probably a few more hours’ walk to get there, assuming she didn’t get lost, and her feet were really starting to ache at this point. Well, she told herself, she had wanted an adventure, after all. Surely, if she found an out-of-the-way sort of alley, she could camp there for the night, and head for the palace in the morning.
Her stomach growled, and she thought on the way she’d look for something to eat.
All the shops were closed, though, which was rather unfortunate. She really should have bought something earlier, when the streets were still bustling with shoppers. Still, it wasn’t all bad. As she walked along the street where she’d seen the line of booths during the day, she saw an alley with a dark, squarish sort of shape against the wall of a shop. As she went closer, she found it was a refuse bin, and the shop next to it was clearly some sort of bakery, because the bin was full of the ends of bread loaves and burnt pieces of pie. The whole alley was covered in an awning, and Greta felt rather proud of herself for finding dinner and a place to stay all in one go.
She dug through the bin eagerly and pulled out half a loaf. This was just like something out of a book, she thought happily, and she took a bite. It wasn’t half bad—a little stale, but still good, with a nice, hearty wheaty flavor.
“Whoa,” came a deep voice from the opposite end of the alley. “I’ve eaten out of the trash before, but I never got excited about it.”
Greta looked up. Standing between two buildings a little way down the alley was a tall, skinny man silhouetted in the light of the street lamps. Surely if he were a thief or a scoundrel, she thought, he would have already come closer to steal her purse, if she had one. So she called out, “This bread’s actually quite good. Do you want some?”
She couldn’t make out the man’s facial expression, but his voice was toneless as he said, “No, thanks. Why don’t you come here?”
Perhaps she was being foolish, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t hold her own in a fight if she really wanted to; she’d made Bob cry countless times growing up, pulling his hair and knowing where to kick. She drew a little closer, and as she did, another man approached the skinny one, this one slightly shorter with wild dark hair.
“Who’s this?” he asked the skinny man.
“Some girl eating out of the trash bin,” the first man said flatly, and the second man’s face went pale and horrified.
“Oh, don’t, don’t eat that,” said the second man, turning to Greta. “Here, wait a second.” He ran back to a little booth a ways down the street and came back with an apple and a cheese-covered biscuit. “Please,” he said, and he held the food out to Greta. “Take this.”
“All right,” she said. “All I have is a silver coin, though, I don’t know how much this costs.” She pulled the coin out of her skirt pocket, but the man shook his head furiously.
“No, no, just take it.”
“My brother, the businessman,” sighed the skinny man, but he nodded at Greta. “Go on.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, and she put the coin back in her pocket and took the biscuit. It was cold, but still good, and she finished it off quickly before biting into the apple. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry. When she’d eaten the apple, she smiled politely at the men, who’d watched her eat with concerned expressions, and said, “I’m Greta.”
“I’m Gerard,” said the wild-haired man. “And this is my brother, Mikey.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Greta. She hoped they weren’t bandits or scoundrels like the man in the frightening inn, because they seemed rather nice so far.
“Do you have someplace to spend the night, Greta?” asked Gerard, pursing his lips worriedly.
“I was just going to sleep in this alley,” she said. “It’s got an awning over it and everything!”
A smile twitched at the corner of Mikey’s lips, but Gerard looked profoundly unhappy, and he gave Mikey a questioning look. Mikey rolled his eyes and said, “No, Gerard. We don’t have the space and we don’t have the money. Think of the baby.”
Gerard looked even more profoundly unhappy at that, and said, “But we can’t just let her sleep out on the streets like this! There are all kinds of, of bad people in this city, and think how terrible you’d feel if something bad happened to her!”
Greta understood, now—they thought she was a poor person, like Chris or Darren, only so poor that she had to sleep in alleys and eat out of rubbish bins all the time. She couldn’t let them worry like that, even if it did end up spoiling her adventure, so she said, “Oh, nothing bad’s going to happen to me. I’m the princess.”
It was almost comical, like watching some kind of mechanical toys operating in tandem; Gerard’s eyes grew huge, while Mikey’s narrowed into slits as he fixed Greta with a sharp gaze. “What?” he said. It hardly even sounded like a question.
“I’m the princess,” she repeated. “I know I don’t really look like a princess, but that’s because I changed clothes with a musician on my way here, because I didn’t want to sit at stupid banquets with my stupid father.”
Spoken out loud like that, it didn’t sound very plausible, and clearly the brothers agreed, because Gerard was looking at her with a pitying expression on his face and Mikey looked supremely distrustful.
“Mikey….” Gerard began, but Mikey scowled.
“For fuck’s sake, you want some crazy person to sleep in our house with your wife and infant daughter—and my wife, for that matter—across the hall?”
Greta felt a bit offended. “I’m not crazy,” she said, and she pulled out her signet ring. “See? That’s the sign of the royal family.”
Gerard leaned closer to look at it. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Where’d you get that?”
“My father, the king,” said Greta. “I told you, I’m the princess.”
“Right,” said Mikey slowly. He peered at Greta appraisingly, as if he were weighing her up and judging what he saw. She didn’t entirely like it.
Gerard put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Mikey, we can’t….”
“What about Gabe?” Mikey interrupted. Gerard made a face, and Mikey sighed. “No, think about it,” he said. “The garbage-eating, the stealing--”
“I didn’t steal anything!” Greta exclaimed, offended.
“….the crazy,” Mikey continued, acting as if he hadn’t even heard Greta. “She’ll fit right in. Besides, you know they’ve got plenty of money, and they’re good people. They won’t hurt her.”
“Stealing’s pretty dangerous,” said Gerard with a frown. “They wouldn’t hurt her, but she might get hurt.” Oh, God, thought Greta, Gabe—and whoever else they were talking about—was a bandit, an actual bandit. She supposed she ought to be afraid, but the thrill making her arms jittery and her chest too small to contain her heart was more about excitement than fear.
“Well, she might get hurt living on the streets, too,” Mikey said, as if the argument was concluded.
The two of them seemed to have a silent discussion, then, conducted entirely with the slant of their eyebrows and the twist of their mouths, before Gerard turned to Greta with a hesitant expression on his face. “You really shouldn’t sleep in the alley, you know,” he said. “If you’d like, we have some friends who live right outside the city, and we’re pretty sure they’d be able to put you up for the night, maybe even longer.”
“All right,” Greta said. Gerard and Mikey seemed like respectable sorts of people, even if they were friends with bandits, and she was really getting quite tired. Any place to sleep was a good place, as far as she was concerned.
“Right,” said Gerard with a quick smile. “Let me go and….” He dashed off to a dingy little house behind the little booth where he’d gotten the biscuit. In the doorway, Greta could see a dark-haired woman holding a baby. Gerard and the woman exchanged some words and a kiss, and he kissed the baby on the head before running back to Mikey and Greta. “Lindsey says to be back by midnight,” he said. “I told her to tell Alicia where we’re going.”
“Great,” Mikey said, sounding a little impatient under his calm tone. “Let’s go.”
The walk out of the city wasn’t long—apparently, there was a back way. When Greta asked if they’d have to show papers to any guards, Mikey said that there weren’t any guards at that door. Greta would have asked why, but Mikey and Gerard both seemed rather cagey about it, so she decided it was to do with something secret and illegal—probably smuggling or something—and didn’t ask any more.
It was a cool night, with a clear black sky and a thousand stars casting a misty bluish light over the woods outside the city. It felt beautiful and wild and ancient, and Greta probably would have enjoyed it a lot more if her feet hadn’t ached with blisters and her limbs hadn’t felt like lead. She wasn’t used to this much walking in one day.
They finally stopped in front of what looked like a cave, its entrance blocked off by large stones. Greta wondered if Mikey and Gerard’s friends actually lived there; the alley might not have been her bed at the palace, but it was probably more comfortable than a cave. “Gabe!” Mikey called. There was no answer but the echo of Mikey’s voice. “It’s Mikey Way,” Mikey called again. “I’ve got to talk to you.” Still no answer. Mikey sighed. “The worm seeks an audience with the cobra,” he called, and one of the rocks moved aside to reveal a man, even taller and skinnier than Mikey, with a bright smile on his face.
“If it isn’t Mikey fuckin’ Way,” he said, skipping out of the cave and shaking Mikey’s hand. “And Gerard! How’s things, Gerard? How’s the book coming?”
“It’s all right,” said Gerard with an uncomfortable little shrug. “Hard to find the time to write, but, you know, I have ideas. But, um, I should--Greta, this is our friend, Gabe Saporta. Gabe, this is Greta.”
“Oh, like the princess?” Gabe asked, and Mikey groaned.
“Don’t encourage her,” he said.
Greta was too tired to stamp her foot with frustration, but that didn’t stop her from trying. It probably looked more like she was tired and trying to give one of her sore feet a rest by leaning on the other one, but it was as close to a stamp as she could give. “I am the princess,” she said.
Gabe raised his eyebrows, and Gerard sighed. “We found her in the alley by our stand,” he said. “She was eating out of the garbage, and she said she was gonna sleep in the alley, so we thought….” His voice trailed off nervously. He worried his lower lip with his teeth for a moment before saying, “Sorry to impose, but could she maybe stay the night with you?”
“God’s thumbs,” said Gabe. “How on earth do you find these people?”
“Just lucky, I guess.” Mikey didn’t have to sound so glum about it, really. It wasn’t like Greta had asked him and Gerard to interrupt her mid-bread loaf.
Gabe scratched his chin thoughtfully. “No, no, I think it’s more that like attracts like.” He shrugged expansively. “Okay. I’m game. I can put up your princess for the night.” He smiled hugely again and said, “Now you have to come in. The rest of the gang will be terribly hurt if you don’t come and say hello.”
“I don’t know,” said Gerard, shifting back and forth from foot to foot. “We’re supposed to be back by midnight, and….”
“It’s scarcely half-past ten now!” said Gabe with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Come on, be a good sport.”
Gerard still looked hesitant, but Mikey gave Gabe an amused half-smile and vanished into the dark of the cave. Gabe grinned triumphantly and made a large, dramatic gesture ushering Gerard and Greta in. Greta wasn’t about to go back and tell Bob she’d been a coward, so she strode firmly into the black space between the rocks.
Inside the cave, she was surprised to find that the floor wasn’t wet or rocky or cold at all—there was a passageway lined with dry sand, and she thought she could see the flickering orange light of a fire a ways down and off to one side. She followed the light, and the sound of murmuring voices, along the narrow stone corridor.
After a minute or so, she emerged into a large open space with a fire. Sitting around the fire were three strange men, a woman, and Mikey, all of whom looked up as she stepped in. Greta couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous—she didn’t know any of these people, and the notion of sleeping in a den of bandits was a great deal more appealing when you were reading about it than when it was a definite possibility in your near future. Still, she was the princess, so she set her chin at a regal, determined angle and curtsied to the assembled people.
One of the men, as tall and thin as Gabe but with wavier hair and a longer face, laughed, and the man sitting next to him looked at Greta with an utterly baffled expression. Mikey sighed, and the woman stared at Greta, her face as unreadable and smooth as the statue of a goddess. Greta felt her cheeks burn. It wasn’t as if she’d never been the center of attention, but…well, she felt rather exposed without the assurance of knowing she would be treated like royalty. What’s more, the woman was strikingly beautiful, with long legs and delicate features and waves of shiny dark hair—Greta didn’t know why that should make any difference at all, but it did.
“Well, friends, look who’s come to see us!” Greta started at the sound of Gabe’s voice. She hadn’t realized that he and Gerard had come in, and she whirled around to look at him. He was beaming at the little cluster of people, and he made a sweeping motion with his arms. “Our old companions the Way brothers have come to pay a call, and they’ve brought their charming new acquaintance, Princess Greta.”
“Princess?” one of the strange men said with a snort. He didn’t look much more than a boy.
“That’s what she said,” said Mikey. “And she had the ring to prove it.”
The man who had looked baffled before gave Greta another look, keen and knowing. “Ah,” he said. “So she’s one of us, then.”
Mikey shrugged. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“I’m not a bandit,” Greta said indignantly. Really, she wasn’t the sort who thought royal blood made you better than anyone else, but she resented being thought of as a thief. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”
“Because you’re the princess,” the tall stranger offered helpfully.
“Well…yes!”
The woman made a rude noise, and the boy shot her a quick grin. Greta felt her temper rise. “I don’t understand why none of you will believe me!” she said. “All I wanted was one day, one day when I didn’t have to sit at boring banquets and simper and prance about like an idiot, but I forgot my money and all the inns are shamefully expensive—and some of them are just shameful—and I’ve been walking all day and everyone thinks I’m a thief and….” She was breathing hard, now, and she could feel tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
Gabe dropped an arm like a heavy, warm scarf around her shoulders. “There, there, Princess,” he said, and she couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was serious or not. “I know exactly what you mean. None of these simpletons believed me when I had my vision of the serpent god, either.”
“You and your cobra,” said the tall stranger exasperatedly. “Come on, Princess, sit down. You, too, Gerard.”
Greta stepped hesitantly closer as Gabe settled himself next to the tall man, but Gerard stood awkwardly by the entrance, wringing his hands. “I don’t know,” he said, looking anxiously at Mikey. “Maybe we ought to go. I don’t like…I mean, the guards. We’re not supposed to be out past curfew.”
Mikey’s expression made it clear just how little he worried about being out past curfew, but he unfolded his skinny limbs and stood up, waving half-heartedly at the group around the fire. He drew close to his brother and whispered something to him.
Gerard wrinkled his nose. “Mikey, I don’t….”
“Think of Helena.” Mikey’s expression was stern and implacable.
“What’s up?” asked Gabe, standing up again and walking over to where the brothers were standing. The men in Gabe’s group looked on curiously, so they at least were as ignorant as Greta. The woman’s expression was still totally unreadable.
Gerard looked like would have rather cut off his own hand than say whatever it was he had to say to Gabe, but he spoke anyway. “I don’t…I hate to ask, especially when you’re already doing us a favor, but…with this last drought, and the taxes, and the baby, and….”
Gabe reached out and grasped Gerard’s arm, his expression suddenly fierce. His voice was low as he said, “You don’t have to beg me, brother. Not ever. You’re family.” Without turning his head, he said, “Alex, would you run and get me one of the small bags?”
One of the men nodded and hopped to his feet, walking away from the fire and vanishing into the back of the cave. It was almost straight out of a tale, Greta thought approvingly; the bandits really had made a lair in a cave.
Alex reappeared a minute later with a little pouch. From the way it clanked when he put it into Gabe’s hand, Greta figured it was probably full of money.
Gabe handed the pouch to Gerard, still looking grave and a little savage. “Here,” he said. “You need more, you come to me.”
Gerard looked to Mikey, back to Gabe, and then at his feet. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he mumbled. “We’ll pay you back, I promise.”
“You just name a character in that epic poem of yours after me, huh?” said Gabe, patting Gerard’s arm once more.
“The villain still doesn’t have a name,” said Mikey with a bored expression on his face.
Gabe laughed. “Hey, you tell Alicia if she ever gets sick of the ways of the Ways, she’s welcome here any time. God only knows how she puts up with you.”
“God only knows,” Mikey repeated. “Come by next time you’re in town.”
“Will do,” said Gabe with a nod. “Hey, you two, take care of yourselves.”
“Likewise.” Mikey nodded back at Gabe, turned, and vanished into the corridor that led outside.
Gerard gave Gabe a small smile and waved at Greta. “Thanks again,” he said to Gabe, and to Greta, “If you need anything, Mikey and me are at the stand from sunup to sundown, pretty much.”
Greta couldn’t imagine what she’d need, and if they were so poor they had to ask for money from a bunch of thieves, she wasn’t about to take anything from them, but she nodded nonetheless.
Gerard turned and disappeared after his brother, and Greta was alone in the den of thieves.
“Well,” said Gabe, rubbing his hands together, “I suppose I’d better introduce our lovely guest to everyone, right? Greta, this is Ryland”—the tall man—“Alex”—the dark-haired man who’d run to fetch the money—“Nate”—the young man, who was leaning against the woman’s side now—“and Victoria.” Victoria. It suited her, thought Greta.
“Welcome,” Ryland said. “We needed some fresh blood around here.”
“Where’s she going to sleep?” Victoria asked, looking pointedly at Gabe, as if she couldn’t even see Greta.
Gabe shrugged. “Well, I thought we’d make up a bed for her in your room.” Victoria narrowed her eyes at him, and he added, “Of course, we could always put her in here—it’s certainly warm enough with the fire.”
Greta wasn’t wild about sleeping right next to the entrance. Who knew what kind of animals crept into a cave at night? Still, it was better than the alley, and this was an adventure, after all. She was actually starting to look forward to going back to the palace a bit, if only to talk about what she’d done and where she’d been. Patrick would just die when he heard about this.
“Hey,” said Alex, “You hungry?”
Greta’s stomach growled. It had been a while since the apple and biscuit Gerard had given her, and it hadn’t been a lot of food then. Alex smiled, and scooped something out of the ashes underneath the fire. It was a little pot, which he put down in front of Greta. “Don’t touch,” he said. “It’s hot.” He dug a spoon out of his pocket and knocked the lid of the pot off with it. Suddenly a warm, spicy smell filled the cave, and Greta peered down into the pot. It looked like stew of some sort; she could make out chunks of potato and carrot and cabbage, and cooked kernels of grain. Her stomach growled again. Alex grinned and handed her the spoon. “Enjoy,” he said.
She smiled back at him. “Thank you very much.” She took a bite. It burned her tongue, it was so hot, but it tasted just as good as it looked. “This is delicious!” she said.
Alex beamed proudly. “I thought this batch was gonna turn out pretty well. The grain really adds something, doesn’t it?”
Before she could answer, Nate had scooted around the fire to sit next to her. “Can I see the ring? Mikey said you had a ring.” Greta didn’t see the harm in showing it to him, so she pulled it out of her pocket, and he whistled low and long. “Good job,” he said. “Rings are hard. Unless the mark isn’t wearing them. Was she wearing it?”
Greta had no idea what he was talking about, though she thought it probably had something to do with stealing. “I didn’t steal this,” she said. “My father gave it to me.”
“Fair enough,” said Nate, nodding. “I wonder where he got it.”
“He didn’t steal it, either. He’s the king.”
Victoria made a rude noise from across the fire. “Sure,” she said. “And I’m the Grand Duchess of Whatthefuckever.” With that, she stood and stalked out of the room, vanishing into the corridor at the back. Gabe frowned, made a vague motion with his hand at the rest, and followed her.
Alex winced. “Don’t mind her,” he said. “Victoria’s not big on having strangers here.”
“Well, in all fairness, the last stranger we had here gave us over to king’s justice because she was obsessed with Gabe,” said Ryland. “And she wasn’t even really a stranger, she was an old friend of Gabe’s.” He squinted at Greta and said, “Hey, you’re not planning on seducing one of us and turning us in to the law if we turn you down, right?” His tone was light, but something about it made Greta wonder if he were actually serious.
“Wasn’t planning on it, no,” she said. “I’m going home tomorrow. I convinced this musician I met to pretend to be me for a couple of days, but I don’t want anyone who actually knows what I look like to give her away, you know? We don’t really look alike.”
“No joke,” Ryland said. “I caught a glimpse of the princess when her carriage drove past this afternoon, and I have to say, your story’s really not gonna convince anyone else who saw her. Or who has eyes. Hey, I don’t tell anyone else how to run their cons, but you’d have much better luck if you pawned the ring and bought some fancy clothes. A ring on its own isn’t gonna prove nobility at all, much less royalty. Some nice clothes, on the other hand….”
It was his tone more than anything that irritated her; it had a sort of patronizing calmness that reminded her of her tutors. “I don’t even care if you believe me,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll be back in the palace, and you’ll still be sitting around in this cave, and then we’ll see who’s the clever one.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Alex with a sigh, “let’s not fight about it. You can be anyone you want to be here.” He nudged Greta’s knee with his own, and added, “Finish your stew.”
Gabe never did reappear, and Greta wondered if he and Victoria were lovers. It would make sense, that the leader of the gang had a paramour while the rest of them didn’t—the bandits in the tales always had one fair maiden, but only one, and she was always in love with the most daring and brave man in the gang. Gabe didn’t seem that daring and brave, though, even if he had been kind enough to let Greta spend the night, and Greta couldn’t imagine Victoria would thank him for that.
After a while, Nate started nodding off, and Alex said, “We should turn in, before one of us accidentally sets himself on fire.”
“Plus, we wouldn’t want to keep our guest awake,” said Ryland, wiggling his eyebrows in Greta’s direction. “I’m sure she’s had a long day.”
Greta wasn’t planning on dignifying that with an angry response; instead, she just tipped her head back the way she did when she was trying to scare off a particularly boring suitor, and said, “Good night.”
“G’night,” said Nate, and Alex reached into the corner to toss Greta a blanket before the three of them went down the mysterious back corridor. Greta wondered what was back there, and whether they’d let her see it. If it was where their secret plans were made and their loot was stored, probably not. Maybe they kept the skulls of their enemies back there, like trophies. Maybe the cave had a secret, underground cavern, with a lake and a boat where they could ship their booty out.
The sand on the floor of the room was warm, and the smoldering coals from the fire cast a little orange light, so Greta curled into the blanket and thought about thieves and rings and cheese biscuits until she stopped thinking altogether.
Part 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-10 03:26 am (UTC)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6M_6qOz-yw