"Of course, father."
"Lyndisty, this is important! If you never listen to another word I say, heed me on this. Be careful, and tell no one about this. No one!"
"Father.... what is wrong?"
"I don't know.... and that troubles me. I love you, Lyndisty."
He was gone now, gone to Tolonius, fighting in the name of the Republic. The battle would probably have started by now, Lyndisty thought. She, meanwhile, was doing her part. She did not understand the need for secrecy, or the significance of the package, or why her father could not do this himself, but none of that mattered. She would do as he wished.
She followed the directions she had been given exactly, and was not pleased that they led her into a disreputable area of the capital, the warehouse district, a part of the city almost gutted by the rioting of last year. It had not been a pleasant area even before that, and her mother would no doubt have an apoplexy at the thought of Lyndisty walking here, least of all alone.
She became aware of the sound of footsteps behind her, and she quickened her pace. She was not unarmed - her long maurestii blade was a reassuringly heavy weight hidden in the folds of her dress - but she did not know how many there were following her, and it was always better to avoid combat if at all possible.
Her quick ears picked up the sound of movement in front of her, and she slowed her pace, still moving forward, but looking for a place to hide if necessary. It was possible the people were harmless, but that was not something she wished to test.
An alley came into view to one side, and she made for it. She was not sure if it led to a place of safety or not, but she could tell she was surrounded.
"So," said a harsh voice, "what's a lady doing in this part of town?"
She skidded to a halt, and backed slowly up against the wall. She could rush for the alley, but her pursuers had chosen to make themselves known, so it was best if she acknowledged that. There were four that she could see; two behind her, two in front. There could be others, of course. The one who had spoken was clearly the leader, and he was in front. There was a mocking leer on his face.
"I am a lady of the Court," she said, in as haughty a tone as she could manage. She shifted the package so that she was holding it in only one hand, and her other slid into her dress, grasping the cold hilt of her maurestii. "I am here on Court business, and I would thank you not to obstruct me in this. If you report to my estate, I will be happy to provide you with small coin for your gracious service."
"Small coin?" said the leader. She could see that his right arm ended in a stump just above the elbow. The other held a long knife. "Which estate is that, then? Not that it matters. You're all the same, each and every one of you. Parasites. Oh, you noticed this, did you?" he said, raising as much of the stump as he could. "The gracious whim of the fair Lady Elrisia. She said I touched her, she did, so she chopped off the hand that did it, and most of the arm as well. She would have taken out my eyes for looking at her too, but she decided to be merciful."
"The Lady Elrisia is dead," Lyndisty said. Her charred corpse had been recovered not long after the end of the troubles.
"Yeah, so we heard. Wasn't us, more's the pity, but.... what does it matter? You're all the same, all of you. I used to be a craftsman, a sculptor. There's actually one of my statues in Mollari's estate, him that's now the Emperor. You'll note he didn't try to save me from Elrisia, did he? Nobles always look after their own. Do you know him? The Emperor?"
"My father does," she said, trying to keep her breath even and short. Her body was tense.
"Who's your father?"
"The Lord–General Marrago."
The crippled craftsman laughed. "Well, I'll be damned. Reckon he'll pay a pretty ducat to get you back safe. Just think what could happen to a noble lady in the hands - pardon the expression - of thugs like us. All sorts of nastiness."
"As I said, report to my estate, and you will be paid for your service. But I should tell you, I am a high–placed virgin of the Court, and if you dare touch me then your punishment will not be light."
"Oh? What? Will they chop my other hand off? I'm a walking dead man anyway. We all are, and as they say.... might as well be beheaded for a ducat as a duck." He moved forward, touching the cold blade of the knife to Lyndisty's neck. It slid lower and began to cut the soft silk of her dress, exposing her bodice.
"Stop that," she said firmly, her hand clenched tight on the hilt of her knife. "This is your last chance."
"I'm not afraid," he hissed. "I'm not afraid of anything any more."
"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. She pulled out her hand and the knife, and in one smooth motion, before he had time to react, a red line was drawn across his throat and he fell, his long knife spinning to the ground with a clatter.
There was a moment of surprise as the other three stared at the man who had been their leader. These were probably simply common criminals who had joined with one who exuded charisma and a feeling of wronged determination. It took a moment before any sense of action presented itself.
Lyndisty took advantage of this, turning and darting down the alley. They began to follow her, but there was no room for two to run abreast, and so their numbers were negated. She managed to spin on her feet, and taking care to keep a tight grasp of the package, not knowing if its contents were breakable or not, she thrust the maurestii out firmly. The leading criminal ran squarely on to it, his hearts pierced. She withdrew the blade from his body, and he fell.
The other two were more careful now, moving more slowly, their own weapons to hand. Lyndisty did not dare take her eyes off them, and moved backwards slowly, wishing for a moment that her dress was not quite so long. Still, she had been trained to fight in all manner of regalia. As her father had said, you were very lucky if you got to choose when and where to fight.
Something struck the side of her head, and she stumbled. The second assailant lifted another rock, and this one struck her side. Wincing, she almost dropped the package, and the first took advantage, lunging forward. Her maurestii caught him in the side and she drew it upwards, piercing his lungs and left heart, but as he fell the knife was torn from her grasp.
His body fell into her, and she had to stagger back. The folds of her dress caught under her foot, and she fell. She kept hold of the package only with difficulty. The final attacker advanced on her, a wicked grin on his face. Desperately she tried to kick out the folds of her dress and rise to her feet, but the cloth was too thick.
There was a sudden light behind her, and the crackle of flames. She could not see who or what it was, but she could see the look of pure terror on her assailant's face. He took a step backwards and then turned and ran frantically for the exit of the alley. Another figure stood there, seemingly holding a flame in his hand. The outlaw let out a strangled cry and continued running. The fire moved, and struck him directly in the face. He screamed, and in an instant all his clothing was alight.
Lyndisty winced and turned her head. Slowly, she managed to disentangle herself from her dress and rise to her feet. She picked up her maurestii and turned to face the man behind her.
"You should not be here," he said. She could not see his face, only the tall brand he held, blazing brightly.
"I have a package to deliver."
"Then give it to me, and I shall see it is taken to its destination."
"I cannot do that. I must take it there myself."