Valor and Violence

Elizabeth whistled a merry tune as she bustled into her room, dropping the musician’s clothing on the floor and skipping to the washbasin. She splashed her face with water, then grabbed the jug of whiskey sitting beside it and took a swig.

“Think fast!” she said, stoppering it and tossing it over her shoulder. Jack swore and dived for it, catching it just before it shattered on the floor.

“What the Pit, Elizabeth?”

“Eh, I knew you’d get to it in time.”

“I suppose you’re right on that part. But still.” He walked over to stand beside her, putting the jug back without taking a sip. “You seem much happier now.”

It was a simple enough statement, but the tone of his voice suggested it wasn’t as positive as it seemed on the surface.

“Don’t sound so glad about it,” Elizabeth replied.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong I’m happy you’re happy but you d-didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“You didn’t k-kill anyone, did you?”

Elizabeth whirled on him, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Oh for the love of- why would you assume I killed someone? Just because I’m happy?”

“Y-you skipped into the room all chipper with a pile of someone’s clothes.”

“And you assume I murdered them?”

“You didn’t, then?”

“No!” she paused and chewed at her lip for a moment. “Not this time, at least. I think I took some of what you said to heart. Also, she was really cute.”

“S-so when you were trying to murder me earlier?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. It was the closest to cheeky he had ever been with her until now and a broad grin split Elizabeth’s face.

“Awww, Jack. Don’t worry, I think you’re cute now. It just took me time to see past all,” she waved a hand at his entire person, “this, and to see the sweet young man underneath.”

“Charming,” he replied, his brows flattening out above his eyes.

“And when I say underneath, I mean underneath all your puppy fat.”

“Alright, that’s a step too far.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just cry myself to sleep later. I’ll be over it by morning.”

“I could give you a cuddle if it helps?”

“Tempting, but not right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m more interested in finding out who you robbed and or stole from to get a Masque de Nuit outfit.”

“A Masque de Nuit musician, of course!”

“I see. And I assume this is part of your plan to assassinate the duke’s son tonight?”

“You’re sharp as a punch dagger,” she said, tweaking his nose. “They’ll have security on the doors, but the musicians have a different entrance. I’ll be covered head to toe. No one will notice anything is amiss until I spring my trap!”

“You’d better spring it quickly before they realise you aren’t a musician.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m actually quite an accomplished violinist, thank you very much!”

“Really?” Jack asked, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Not really. I’m what I like to refer to as a hyper competent antagonist.”

“You call yourself an antagonist?”

“Well, I’m sure as Pit not a good guy.”

“That’s surprisingly self-aware.”

“Like I said: hyper competent. Self awareness is just one of my many overwhelmingly positive traits. Right up there with humility.”

“Sure. So, if you haven’t murdered anyone, why are you so happy?”

“I need an excuse?”

“No, but this has been a pretty significant reversal of attitude. Usually, that doesn’t happen without a reason.”

“Urgh, fine! My boss is in town, and we cleared things up.”

“The Guild Master is here?” Jack asked, his voice cracking.

“Hey, now! Don’t stress, little buddy. Like I said we cleared things up, it’s fine.”

“It’s not ‘fine’, Elizabeth! He’s a dangerous, manipulative psychopath!”

“Hey that’s not… alright, got me there. But once you get to really know him, he’s actually quite sweet.”

Jack shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “What did he say? What did you say?”

“Lots of ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘I didn’t mean it’s and ‘Elizabeth, you’re the greatest thing to happen ever in the history of everything. You are the pinnacle of humanity and I should give you a raise when we get home’s. That sort of thing.”

“I meant about your plan to assassinate the duke’s son.”

“Oh, that. Not much, now that I think about it. I told him he needs to wait for tonight and then it’ll be a big surprise. He said he would be watching, I feel just like a little girl with her dad at her dance recital.”

Jack muttered “that’s probably one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever heard,” then looked Elizabeth in the eyes. He had been serious before, but from the set of his face he was taking it up another level of grave. In fact, Elizabeth might even say he looked… dead serious. She snickered at her own internalised joke, and Jack’s face turned from sombre to angry.

“Damnit, Elizabeth! This isn’t a laughing matter. Your boss, manipulative arsehole and most feared murderer in the world, is in town to watch you publicly execute a man. This is messed up, your whole life is messed up, you see that, don’t you?”

“Settle, petal. You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not! You just can’t see it! Please, Elizabeth, just… let’s go. The Watch is going to be focussed on the concert tonight. We can slip away, get somewhere safe, away from all this.”

“For the love of the gods, Jack, I’m not running away.”

“It’s not running, it’s leaving. There’s a difference.”

“The Master wouldn’t see it that way. He’d hunt us to the ends of the earth. He’d kill you, and me? He’d probably ground for, like, a week, or something, I dunno. Either way, not a good outcome.”

“Damnit, Elizabeth, if he caught us he’d kill you too.”

Elizabeth fixed him with a sharp glare, her tone taking on an icy tone as she replied. “He would not. Stop trying to turn me against him, Jack. I already told you we’ve mended things.”

Jack stepped back a pace, his face going ashen, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously.

Shit, I scared him.

Elizabeth forced a smile to her face and cupped Jack’s face in her hands. “And besides, you’ve got everything mixed up again. I’m not the damsel in distress, you are. I’m saving you, remember? I just need to do this job, put in a word with the Master, and we’ll set you up as the underworld king of this city. You’ll never fear or want for anything ever again, alright? But you need to trust me.”

Jack stared back at her for what felt like an eternity, before he finally closed his eyes and grabbed her hands, squeezing tight.

“Alright, Elizabeth. I’ll trust you.”

“Good! All I need you to do is stay put. I’m going to head out, I’ve got rehearsal before the show starts. I’ll come back for you when it’s all done!”

Jack nodded, still holding on to her for dear life. Poor little bugger was terrified. But he didn’t understand. Everything would be alright. She would make everything alright. She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek and his eyes flew open. She smiled again, to reassure him, and he gave her one in return. Small, and maybe a little sad, but a smile, nonetheless. She turned and strode to the door, stopping just before she left.

“Toodles,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

She opened the door and stepped out as Jack called out after her.

“Yeah. See you soon.”

He still sounded sad.

*

A few hours later, Elizabeth hurried up to the gaggle of black clad musos hanging around the back entrance. One of them turned around as she approached and threw their hands up.

“What the Pit, Chelsea, you’re late! You missed the rehearsal!”

Elizabeth, wearing her ‘Chelsea’ disguise, it seemed, gave a non-committal shrug, hoping the cute brunette’s history of silence would be enough to sell the gesture. It evidently was as the speaker shook his head and re-joined the gaggle as filtering through the back entrance. Elizabeth fell into step behind them, purposefully lagging to avoid drawing attention, but also to make it easier to find her seat when they made the stage. In theory, it should be a simple matter if all the other seats were already occupied. They continued on, the black clad figures in front of her making idle, if nervous, chatter as they advanced through the winding hallways. It revolved, of course, around the supposed showdown due to occur between the feared assassin and the new Duke Martel. Elizabeth turned her head a tad to better hear one such conversation.

“So, Jackie heard from her friends’ brother’s god father that there’s going to be Watchmen crawling all over the hall tonight! And they’ve even hired on foreign mercenaries! Duelists from Ris and cannibals from Calandor!”

“Hang on, cannibals? From Calandor? There aren’t any cannibals in Calandor, you’re thinking of Marduk. Also, why don’t her friend and her brother have the same godfather?”

“What? Preposterous! There’s no cannibals in Marduk, only Calandor. Ungrateful plebs, can’t believe they fought a war just to assert their independence. We gave them culture, art, an honest job! And they threw it back in our faces and regressed to cannibalism. Also, Jackie reckons her friend’s godfather got caught diddling the friend’s grandmother. Grandpa was pissed, so they had to find someone else the second time around. It’s just a rumour though, nothing was ever proven.”

“Just a rumour! You can’t be spreading that on hearsay. Also, the grandmother? Really? And I am absolutely sure it’s Marduk.”

“I can do whatever I please, thank you very much! And the grandma is a fox, I’ve seen her. Very put together for a sixty-year-old. Also I’m absolutely sure it’s Calandor.”

“Oh, shut it, both of you,” a third voice chimed in with an authoritive tone. “Yes, there’s a bit of extra security, but it’s for protection, not a showdown. You’ve been seeing too many of that plebian’s plays, what’s his name? Oh, right, Bill Shackspear. Dreadful stuff. And also, you’re thinking of Skjar, they’re the cannibals.”

As the now trio descended back into bickering about diddlers, foxy grandparents, and cannibals, Elizabeth tuned them out and focussed on her internal thoughts. Her lips quirked up in a grin and her heart thudded in her chest so hard she went lightheaded and giddy. The more guards, the better. It was going to be an absolute spectacle for the Master to see.

The gloom they traipsed through suddenly lit up as though day had broken, and she squinted down the hallway at the light pouring through a doorway as it opened. The trio in front of her cursed in unison, shielding their eyes as they kept walking.

“Jonas! They were supposed to wait until we were on stage before turning on the lights!”

“I told them, Taliah, they screwed this up, not me!”

Elizabeth shook her head as they funnelled out onto the stage. So, this is what the lauded and mysterious Masque Du Nuit was like behind closed doors? They were a bunch of bloody children. She had set her charges to just take out the VIP boxes, but now she found herself wishing she planted a few underneath the stage, too.

Ah, well, she thought as she took her seat, tucking her chin into the chinrest and placing her bow across the strings. I won’t have to listen to their inane prattle for too much longer. The show’s about to start.

The conductor was already in position and wasted no time, directing the percussion section to kick things off with a rumbling beat. His baton came up again, and fell, the signal for the string section to start.

Elizabeth grinned and started to play.