“Gantalla!” A booming voice called her name, and she turned… and then cursed herself a moment later as she saw Hallix striding towards her. She should have just headed in the opposite direction. The huge oaf was dressed in a fine tunic, with a fur thrown over his shoulders, though the night wasn’t particularly cold. His hair hung in bushy waves and his beard was thick. Both could have used a good trim. By Chalandrian standards, Gantalla thought he looked more like a desert shrub than a man, covered in fuzz the way he was.
“There you are!” Hallix said, too loud even though they were outside and in a crowd. “I lost you last night. Oh, but…” He stopped, looking her over. “You’re not dressed for the festival yet.”
“No, I spent the afternoon at the hospital. Teaching the nurses how to restart someone’s heart.”
Hallix looked baffled for a moment, then laughed, as if she’d said something funny. “Did you indeed. Well, that’s a fine way to spend your time.” Did he think she’d been joking? “But how about you nip off and get dressed. That black lace number from last night has been stuck in my head all day.”
For a moment, Gantalla considered doing just that, if only as an excuse to get away from the man… but then she reconsidered. “Actually, I think I’m fine with what I’m wearing now.” She was in her green blouse and her old trousers, with her new boots still on her feet. And now that she had a new job on the horizon, even if she decided to stay in town, she no longer needed to cater to these arrogant louts.
For a moment, Hallix looked disappointed. Then he grinned. “Well, how about we get some food into you, then? You need a bit more meat on your bones.” He slapped her ass, then slung his heavy arm over her shoulder, steering her towards the food table. It was only their destination that had Gantalla deciding to go with him, rather than thinking of another excuse to slip away. She hadn’t had a chance to eat anything all afternoon, and her stomach was growling. And though she’d earned a few coins today, she wasn’t going to turn down free food.
“I really need to go and find Nalyx,” she said, as she loaded up her plate with meat and bread. This time, she dared to try some of the vegetables as well. She still didn’t know what they were, but sooner or later, she’d have to find out, so she may as well start tasting them now. “I promised him I’d help him eat dinner.” She hadn’t, but if she had to spend the evening with someone, she’d rather it be Nalyx. While he’d given her a thorough ogling while they were in the bath, he hadn’t actually tried to touch her, which was a big step up from Hallix.
But the warrior beside her just laughed again, though she caught a fleeting scowl cross his face. “Nalyx will be fine. He always has a bevy of young women hovering around him. I’m sure one of them can help him eat.”
The instant Hallix’s plate was full, his arm was back around her shoulder, and he steered her towards one of the tables set up around the square. But as he set his plate down, he suddenly turned, giving a loud cry. “Ho! Henrick!” he boomed, waving his arm in the air. “Come and sit! I haven’t seen you all day,littlebrother.”
Gantalla turned to see another man, who looked a mirror image of Hallix, crossing the square towards them, with Fin tucked neatly under his arm. But in contrast to Gantalla being forcibly shoved about by Hallix, Fin looked entirely happy about being there. She was beaming up at Henrick, her own plate of food clutched in her hands.
“Little, my ass,” Henrick said, slapping Hallix on the back. “I could beat you at sword fighting, wrestlingandpoker, all in the same night.”
Gantalla sat down on the bench beside the table, managing a smile for Fin. As for the blustering and boasting of the two men, she decided to simply ignore it. Only the gods knew why these so called warriors needed to have a pissing contest about every little thing. Even Nalyx had been no better, determined to convince her that he’d nearly killed that damned unicorn.
“This is Henrick,” Fin said, as she sat down opposite Gantalla. “They’re twins,” she added, as if Gantalla couldn’t tell. She set her plate down and nearly missed the edge of the table, which made Gantalla suddenly reassess her almost-friend. It looked like she’d been hitting the wine early this evening. And Henrick, too, from the redness of his face.
“Hallix was born two minutes earlier,” Fin told her, in a loud whisper, and perhaps that little detail – two minutes worth of time, when they were only just learning to breathe – was the cause of the apparent rivalry between them now?
Hallix took his own seat on the bench beside Gantalla, sitting close enough that his thigh was pressed up against hers. She shifted over to give him more room, but Hallix merely followed her, until she risked falling off the bench if she tried to move any further.
Resigned to having half her thigh crushed by a tree-trunk, Gantalla tucked into her meal.
“You look like you’ve been at the tailor’s today,” Fin said to Hallix, raising an eyebrow at his new tunic. “Yorin does some fine work.”
Hallix snorted. “Yorin’s a little twig I could snap with one hand. Knobbly little man. I think he had his balls accidentally removed as a child. But fuck me, he makes the finest clothes in the whole city. Would you believe this cost me three silver coins? Half price, he told me it was, but aren’t we supposed to earn some sort of gratitude for all the work we do defending the gate? The bloody nerve of the man, charging me three coins. Threesilvercoins. Not bloody coppers.”
“Perhaps he’s merely trying to pay for his own expenses,” Gantalla suggested. “Fabric doesn’t make itself, after all.” She stabbed her fork into one of the vegetables, long, thin and green, and nibbled on the end. It didn’t taste too bad.
“Speaking of fabric, I rather like the way your blouse falls off your shoulder so delectably,” Hallix said, running a finger over her bare shoulder as he changed the subject. “I wasn’t convinced at first, but on reflection, I think this is a fine choice for the evening. And I have to thank you for introducing me to this gorgeous lady,” Hallix said to Fin. “I was getting rather tired of the same old dish every time. But this one… I dare say she could keep me satisfied for a long time. Look at this hair.” He ran his hand through her locks, while Gantalla forced herself to sit still. Maybe she should have stayed at the hospital tonight, instead.
But before Hallix could make any more comments, another voice interrupted them – a far gentler one than Hallix’s thundering boom.
“Ah, there you are,” Elria said, shuffling over towards the table, her wrinkled face scrunched up in a toothy grin. She was wearing a satin dress in a deep blue this evening, clearly an expensive garment, though it hung poorly on her due to her hunched back and lopsided gait. “See? I told you you’d end up sticking around a bit longer.” She sounded altogether too smug about it, and Gantalla once again wished she’d ditched the old woman back in the forest, before she’d ever set foot in this town. “What did I say? Find a nice, handsome warrior, and you could end up with a husband before too long.” Elria winked at Hallix, and Gantalla longed to tell her to shut up. The man had enough ideas about her already without Elria adding to them. “Oh, but you don’t have your festival clothes on,” Elria said, noticing her outfit, and Gantalla wondered why everyone was so fixated on what she was wearing. She’d been trying to avoid attention with her plainer clothes, not attract more of it. “Fin, you did show her the dresses, didn’t you?”
“I most certainly did,” Fin said.
“Last night, she looked a right treat,” Hallix said, smirking down at her and waggling his eyebrows. “Black satin and lace. Just right to show off her… attributes.”
“Well, at least you got yourself some boots,” Elria said, sniffing haughtily. “You were so very keen on a pair of boots.”
“Nalyx rather liked that blouse as well,” Gantalla said, deliberately poking at Hallix’s inevitable jealousy. “He was kind enough to let me spend the night in his room.”
Elria broke into a hearty cackle. “Did he, now? Well, Hallix, it looks like you’ve got yourself some competition. Though if I were you, I’d stick with this one,” Elria said, patting Hallix fondly on the shoulder. “He’s got a few years on Nalyx, and he’s killed a hefty share of demons. But Nalyx is handsome enough, I suppose.”
“The man’s an amateur,” Hallix growled. He placed a meaty hand on Gantalla’s thigh. “Pissing about with women and whisky. Most cycles, he barely manages to get his ass into the training ring.” As opposed to Hallix, who was currently doing his best to woo Gantalla into bed, and drowning his woes in a mountainous cup of beer.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Gantalla asked Elria. “You should come and join us.” Having her around would at the very least provide a small buffer between her and Hallix’s licentious comments, and if she was lucky, she might get to learn more about the town. Elria seemed to be a fountain of local knowledge.
“I think I might just do that,” Elria said. “Let me get myself a plate, and I’ll be right back.”
