BRCH1

Black Rose Chronicles


Chapter 1: The Incident in Eiliánoch

A veil of smoke hung in the air, thick and oppressive, tarring one’s lungs as the band played their tunes and the hours grew late. This was a place that the crestfallen and needy came to, those poor souls who could not seek refuge elsewhere. They came to carouse and partake in the merriment. To ease their heavy burdens for a brief moment at least.
Madame tended to the bar, wearing her red backless halter neck dress. She was the one all these men came to see, this much the little girl knew. Whether it was cheap hooch, young maids, games of wit or raucous fights in the baiting-pit, Madame always had whatever these poor unfortunate souls craved for. She had become like a mother to the community, offering you solace and joy if one had the coin to pay for it. Here, they were safe and warm and happy. Here they laughed and smiled, all equal as Madame’s little jolly boys.
The girl knew that this was not the best of homes, but it was the only one she had ever known. Her mother had been claimed by consumption a few years before and left her with nothing but a scarce few dear memories. Mother had been one of the pretty ladies working at Madame’s Inn. The pretty ladies that would smile and laugh and make all the tired and weary men happy. She was the most beautiful of them all, not because of her looks, but because of her heart which overflowed with love and affection. She loved both have-nots and those who had it all. Men of the sea and doctors alike came to enjoy the gold of her flaxen hair. Some of them came again and again, but all of them left her in the end. Mother had a place in her heart for everyone, but no one had been as dear to her as the little girl. “We’ll be there for each other. Always” Mother had said as she combed the little girl’s thick blond hair, early in the morning when Mother no longer had to tend to her work.
But these were days long since passed, and the memories, no matter how pleasant, grew fainter and more distant for each day that went by. Now Madame was all the little girl had left. She would never brush her hair or tuck her in like mother did, but Madame was kind in her own way. She had even let her keep the room that she had shared with her mother. Not for free of course. ”We’ve all gotta’ pull out own weight, dearie” she had said. The girl understood. The Inn was Madame’s property after all, and being a waitress, washing the dishes and the occasional errand was not all that hard work. It was only really bad when people got drunk and fights broke out, or some of the wealthy customers in the VIP area would get a little too frisky. Sometimes when she went down to the harbour to buy fish for Madame’s’ stew, she thought about the big strong sailors that used visit Mother. Those big strong men would surely be able to protect her from such things. Perhaps one day, when the little girl was all grown up like her mother these men in their black uniforms would notice her too. Perhaps they would love her, like they loved mother. Perhaps one of them would bring her with them on one their big iron ships and sail away with her.
Tonight however she had other things to think about. Things to do. There had just been a funeral, a military one, and a group of those who had been closest to the departed soldier had occupied a booth just near the scene where the band was playing and dancers were performing. They were ordering some of Madame’s finest liquor and were smoking a lot of Bliss in a shared hookah. Big spenders like these had to be treated with special attention and care. She had been told to wear hear finest clothes; a white loose fitting top, a blue pleated skirt and white nylon stockings. She had done her hair up in a maiden’s braid and one of the working girls had even let her use some of her rouge. She had gawked at herself in the mirror, surprised at how much like the pretty ladies she looked. She was not quite old enough yet for anyone but the odd patron to notice her at all, but soon she’d be all grown up. She was sure of it.

“Now, you make sure an’ tend to them soldier-boys an’ make sure they have ev’rythin’ they could be needin’” Madame had told her with a friendly smile through her crooked yellow teeth. “We’re a not exactly a classy establishment, but one a’ them’s a lef’tenant an’ all. We can’t afford to seem tawdry tonight”.

The little girl knew exactly which one of them Madame was speaking of; the handsome one with the jet-black slicked-back hair, the grey-blue eyes and the strong cheekbones. The one with an eagle upon his cap and a red collar upon his coat. All soldiers she had ever seen were tall with super-human physiques, sometimes standing as tall as seven feet, but this one was different, she could tell. Just like his comrades, he was a hulking mass of muscles, but there was a certain refinement to him that she had never seen in military men before. Things tensed up inside of her. He drank and toasted with his friends, but he never seemed to lose his collected composure. The girl could not help but blush whenever he asked her to pour him another drink. She wondered if he noticed. Perhaps if things went well tonight, more officers would find their way to this establishment. That was what Madame was banking on anyways. Higher clientele would mean more steady income. Perhaps the young handsome officer would come back then. Perhaps one day…

“To Captain Erhmann!” one of the uniformed men said as he rose and lifted his glass in a toast. “Another brave Phrigian solider has fought his final fight!”.
“… He has met eternity, companion!” another said, copying his comrade. “Strength in unity!” they all cried as the rest of them rose and downed their drinks. There was a pause as they all had to collect themselves for a bit. The swill they were ordering was strong stuff. Sometimes when the girl wanted to smile and dance and laugh the same way all the patrons did, she would seize the opportunity when Madame was inattentive and secretly imbibe upon the strong spirits too. She knew all too well the fires that consume you when you dance with the Other as these men did.

“Fucking Republicans” the pock-scarred one said. “Came right out of fucking nowhere. They were everywhere and then they were gone.” he said pausing while pouring himself another drink. “Now we’re stuck here and our Captain is in a casket”.
The girl served them with another bottle of liquor to share amongst them, five men in total. She only gave them the bottles from the cupboard out in the storage room, just as she had been instructed to by Madame. “Fine customers like these want exclusiveness”, she had been told.
“If only they’d come out and fight like men” his rather short-statured friend added. “Tollett, Eiss and now Erhmann… There’s no bloody honour in it. I didn’t sign up for this bullshit” he said and took a sip of his drink. He frowned, half in disgust, half in disappointment “Sure, we get a few of theirs too, but each of ours is worth ten of theirs”. Silence befell them once again, at least for a short while, before it was broken by the gentlemanly commander.
“There hardest part is telling their wives” the lieutenant said as he lit a cigarette and inhaled. “I’ve met Ms. Erhmann a few times. Sweet lady, that one” he said thoughtfully. He paused a little before he inhaled once again. “Proper lady. She’ll take care of herself and the children. Won’t resort to whoring like so many other widows, I don’t think. Fortune favours the diligent and thrifty” he pondered. The deep furrows on his cleft chin and his forehead revealed that he was not as certain as he let on.
 “We are still plagued by the degeneracy of the past, companion” the pock-marked soldier said. “With bricks of persistence is paved the road to victory” he quoted and paused a little. “Wow, alcohol usually doesn’t do much for me, but I am feeling kind of tipsy, how about you?” he said.
“Perhaps it’s time to go’n home, frig” a rusty voice said from behind the girl. Taken aback, she turned around to be met with the sight of a frail old man wearing tweed and a bunnet. His face was wrinkled and weathered but a staunch determination was visible in his eyes.
“Excuse me?” the pock-scarred soldier said, visibly bewildered.
“You heard me!” the old man said. “Have ye got no fucking homes a’ yer own?” he said. Oh no. This was the last thing that was supposed to happen. Terror gripped the girl. She had been told to keep an eye out for drunkards and trouble-makers, but this one had slipped her attention. Where did he come from? The soldiers could not leave with a bad impression of the place. She backed slowly and turned towards the bar to alert Madame to the situation, but she was nowhere to be seen.

”Ye have wives and kids to go home to, haven’t ye?” he asked. He seemed like he was looking for trouble, but his speech was not as slurred as one would expect it to be in a situation like this. If he was drunk enough to go up against soldiers of the Grand Army, then why did he not seem intoxicated at all? Panic gripped the girl as he noticed that the soldiers had their hands on their belt holsters, ready to produce their pistols. She went behind the bar desperately trying to find Madame in the hope that perhaps she had hid there.
“Well, why don’t ye go home to yer own and leave Iweria be?” the old man said. An awkward silence befell the inn, as the band stopped playing and the dancers stopped dancing. It was broken when the lieutenant took a sip of his drink.

“Listen, old man” said. “I get it; rations are restrictive lately. These are tough time. You’re frustrated. I understand, I really do” he said and pointed to his friends. “But me and my friends here, we’re just here to forget our troubles and have a good time. Just like you, old man!” he said.
“So why don’t we chalk this up to a miscommunication. We’re all here for the same thing, aren’t we?” he said in an unexpected show of diplomacy. “Why don’t you get your coat, go home, get some sleep and we’ll let this little mishap slide, yeah?” he said.
“Don’t you get it?” the old man said, the determination in his voice not wavering an ounce. “As long as you stay, you will never know peace”.
He held a long tense pause. “How many of your boys will we have to kill before it sinks in?”
“How dare you?!” the short-statured soldier erupted.
“Why don’t you get on your feet and do something about it? I bet you won’t get up and fight me like a man!” he old man said. The soldier rose from his seat, ready to fight but stumbled and fell on his knees as soon as he had risen.
“See? Not so easy!” the old man said.
“What the hell?” the soldier said as he started coughing. A red trail ran down his chin. Blood. It felt as if the ground was giving away under the girl. Blood.
“What have you done to me?” the soldier asked. Suddenly, a group of men joined the old man. It was the band, still dressed up in suits and all, but they had abandoned their instruments. Instead, they bore firearms, all pointed at the officer and his companions.
“I’m sorry boys” Madame interjected from the stage, carrying a bottle. “It is really nothing personal” she said. “But the stuff the servin’ girl’s been givin’ yer all night’s been laced with little bit of the most powerful tranquilizer we could find. You frigs can take a lot, but you’ve got enough in you to take down an elephant. Evens out the odds a little” she said.
“Well, boys, I don’t mean to end a lovely evening on a sour note, but ye’r now under custody of the Republican Liberation Army. Surrender yer arms an’ come with us peacefully” the old man demanded.
The young officer smirked. “Well, isn’t this quite the kerfuffle?” he said.
“Listen, what do you guys want from us? Money?” he asked. “You can have my wallet right now. The army is not going to pay a ransom for us, that’s against policy. If we just give you our wallets and you guys let us walk right out of here, everyone benefits more than we would from the kind of foolishness you’re proposing here”
“We don’t want your dirty money, frig” one of the band members holding a shotgun said.
“Erinn, mind your manners!” Madame said with a smug yellow grin. “Please forgive young Erinn. He’s such a brazen young lad. We mean no offence, of course”
“None taken, dear” he officer laughed. His eyes did not give away even an ounce of fear. “So what can I do for you lot?”
“Information’s what we’re after” the old man said. “An’ rumor’s that you’d be able to supply us aptly with such”
“My Lord!” the lieutenant replied. “You’re asking me to betray my country. To hand you secrets that are not mine to give away” he said and finished his cigarette.
“Well, boys” he said and looked to his comrades. “What do you say? What are we to answer when given an ultimatum such as this?”
Thunder erupted in the little inn, an eardrum-shattering cacophony of fire and death unleashed when least expected. The girl took cover behind the bar as shattered glass and wood flew by her head, blinding her with panic. She balled up and covered her head as screams and gasps filled the air.
 Who shot first was impossible to tell, but now guns bellowed, playing the tune of havoc as limbs were torn asunder and lifeless bodies fell to the ground. This all-devouring roaring inferno consumed all before it, tearing tendons, breaking bones, panels, light-bulbs, trays, bottles, drapes. All.
The girl lost herself in a silent prayer. She had not often asked God for much, but in this most dreadful of moments, longed for nothing more than the merci of the Benevolent Creator now that everything she had ever known and called a home was being torn apart before her eyes. She prayed and prayed, but the thunder kept going, the rifles kept firing.

But then, relief: almost as suddenly as the fire had commenced, it halted.
Her ears were ringing, and she’d gotten some stray glass in her eyes, but the girl peaked over the bar. The sight that met her was a frightening one. A veil of scarlet mist hung in the air. The old man lay on the floor, the contents of his head slowly seeping out of a large gaping hole. Bodies littered the floor, most of them wearing suits, a few of them being the remains of mere bystanders, but three of them wore the now bullet-riddled black uniforms of the Phrigian army. To her horror, a dead body wearing Madame’s red dress also lay upon the ground. Only the pock-scarred soldier and the lieutenant stood on their feet, all others had fled, died or were slowly bleeding out. The air was filled with the whimpering of the latter.
“Fuck” the pock-scarred one cursed as he coughed up blood and tried to halt the red stream that was escaping from the multiple bullet-wounds littered all over his chest.
The handsome officer stood over the bodies of his comrades. He sank to his knees and let out a soul-shattering scream.
The girl came out from her cover and approached the soldiers. She was almost stiff with terror.

“A… Are y-you guys alright?” she asked.

“You…” the officer said. The gentle charm that had resided in his eyes just a few minutes earlier was now gone. It was replaced by a quite distinctive glare, almost like a glow. Like the rage of the beast unleashed within Man, cold and alien.
“You’re the one who poisoned us…” he said. “Had I been more steady in my aim, none of my companions would have been dead…” he said and paused. A tear rolled down his face. “You rebel whore. My best friends, dead. Denied a honourable end, a fair fight. And for what?” he cried.
Fear gripped the girl as the figure that has once made her blush now launched against her in a blind rage. She closed her eyes and cried out. She was not ready to die like this. She hadn’t done anything. She wasn’t ready, not yet.

Suddenly another thunderclap sounded this one louder than the others from before. A horrendous sound of bones breaking and flesh being torn apart followed. She felt droplets landing on her face, soaking her clothes. When she opened her eyes, she saw the shattered remains of the once handsome officer. Where his beautiful face had once been only a bloody pulp remained, as if it had suddenly imploded.
Suddenly her eye caught a figure standing in the corner of the room, holding a smoking rifle in his hands. No, it wasn’t a rifle. At least, it wasn’t like any rifle she had ever seen in her life before.  It bore resemblance to a hunting shotgun, but it had just one single oversized barrel and plenty of gears and other widgets that were not commonly seen on a weapon. It looked more like a cannon than a rifle, truth be told.

“CHECK-COO” the cannon said as the wielder cracked it open and a giant smoking cartridge ejected from it.
The pock-scarred soldier fired his pistol. Thrice. The stranger reacted. He launched into the air with agility that the girl had never seen before. In the blink of an eye he landed right in front of the soldier. He wielded his hand-cannon as a club, throwing a blow for the gut. It didn’t connect. The soldier parried. He returned with a knee to the stranger’s stomach, forcing him to his knees, dropping the gun with a clunk. He pounded at the intruder’s head, causing a cascade of blood and spit to fly with each blow. Then he sent the stranger flying through the room with an uppercut. He collided with a few tables and then the wall. A loud thud.
Almost as suddenly as he was sent flying, the strange figure was on his feet again, and first now did the girl get a chance to get a proper view of him.
He wore an old tattered brown three-piece suit and black leather gloves. A rough-spun burlap sack with eyeholes covered his face and a black fisherman’s cap sat upon the crown of his head. His build was short and stocky, looking every bit the bar-brawler.

The soldier charged at mysterious stranger. They got locked into vicious hand-to-hand combat, trading blows. The stranger fought sluggishly, vicious and animalistic, with the discipline and finesse of someone who had learned from nothing but raw necessity and experience. A few gut-wrenching strikes later, the stranger was brought to his knees. A kick to the face sent him flying backwards.
He got back on his feet once more, but neither as steadily or as quickly as he had before.
“Impressive” the soldier said as he wiped blood from his face. “Civvies don’t usually put up this much of a fight”.
“But then again, you’re no civie, are you? Who do you work for?” he said as he broke of the leg of a chair, fashioning a makeshift club. “Tell me, and I promise that your death shall be… well, quicker”
“Rats in the sewers” a voice as dry and raspy as papyrus replied. “Crows in the night”
The soldier swung the chair-leg at the stranger’s head. He narrowly dodged and kneed the scarred one in the groin, forcing him to lose his composure. He then sent the soldier a few steps backwards with an elbow to the face.
“Oh! Ha ha!” the soldier laughed as he wiped away the blood that was now flowing freely from his nostrils.  “You’re no ordinary republican, are you? Nah, you’re something else” he said. He moved a bolt of lightning and threw a punch at the shadowy enigma’s gut.

He stumbled a few steps backwards and bumped into a table. He picked up a bottle of wine and threw it at the soldier, who ducked. He stranger picked up a chair. The soldier charged, and was hit so hard over the head with the chair that it broke. He grabbed him and pinned him to the floor. The other one tried to claw at him. It was fruitless. The military man kept punching at his head. He then grabbed his throat and squeezed.
“No matter. I don’t need to know what kind of thing you are. I will kill you just the same as all the others” he sneered through his teeth. The figured gasped and wheezed for his breath, clawing and punching at the soldier’s face and sides, trying desperately to relieve the pressure upon his throat. His efforts were fruitless, and his resistance slowly grew weaker and weaker.
“Ha ha ha!” the soldier laughed. “Die you rebel scum!”
Smash
The girl didn’t really have any idea what had just happened. She looked down at her hands. Their fingers were wrapped around the neck of a broken whiskey bottle. Why was she so close to the fight all of the sudden? It felt like a giant boulder had suddenly dropped in her stomach. She had been so entranced by the fighting that she had not even noticed her own actions, as if she went outside her own body and was merely a passive observer. She dropped the broken bottle and ran.
The two quarrelers were on their feet once again. A kick to the abdomen, a punch to the face.
A kick, a dodge, a riposte, a grapple and a throw. Now it was the stranger who was on his feet and the soldier who was on the ground.  “Mmmmha ha! Not so pop’lar” the stranger croaked.
“You little bitch!” the soldier said and looked to the girl, piercing her with his eyes. The soldier got on his feet. “I’ll take care of her after I’m done you, you traitor scum. You can’t keep pulling dirty tricks” he said.
“Can’t? Mmm… Let’s see” was the response.
Suddenly a great buzz sounded. The soldier let out a scream and fell to the floor, convulsing violently and foaming at the mouth.
The figure picked up a pistol from the floor. He planted three shots in the soldiers head. Thus the fight concluded, and silence once again befell the Inn.
“Mattie!” a voice cried out. A woman with auburn hair stood in the doorway, shock painted all over her face. “Mattie, I told you to wait up! The stunner is damn heavy, it is!” she said. She bore a large gun with what seemed like a camera flash at the end, with cables attached to a large metal backpack.
“What a bloody mess” she said as she looked around the bar, gauging the results of the havoc that had broken out just minutes before. “Where’s the mark?” she asked.

The figure sat himself down on a chair, obviously pretty strung out from the scuffle he had just been involved in. He pointed towards the ravaged remains of the officer. “Mmm…”
“He’s dead? Dammit” she said. “Bloody peasant boys. We should never have trusted them to do this right!” she said, visibly frustrated with the situation. She went over to the deceased officer’s body and studied it a bit closer.
“Wait, you didn’t use the pork-chopper on this guy, did you Matthew?” she asked, turning to the stranger.
“Mmm… Aye, I did” he answered.
“What?!” she cried out. “Why? We needed that guy! You know that! I was just behind you with the stunner, couldn’t you at least have waited a few minutes?” she asked looking horrified. “Why did you have to kill him?”
“Her” the man growled and pointed to the girl from his seat. She felt terror grip her once more. Oh no. What now?
“Thought she was involved… Kill her… Mmm… Couldn’t let it happen” he explained.
“Mattie, blimey…” the woman said, now sounding a little more sympathetic than angry. “Of all the times you could’ve finally grown a soft spot… You really had to kill him, though?” she said. She paused a second before continuing. “What am I saying? Of course you were out of options. Alan’s going to be disappointed though”.
The woman women went over the heap of bodies scattered all over the floor and picked up Matthew’s hand-cannon. “Well, we’d better get going” she said. “The engine’s running and it won’t be long ‘til coppers show up”
“Mmm… Vera…” the man said from his seat. “Maybe… Mmm… Better to go without me… Bring the girl”
“What are you t-“ she said before she suddenly halted. She came to a horrible realization. The panic was painted all over her face.

“Matt! You’re shot!” she cried out in horror and disbelief. First now did the girl notice the dark spots on the stranger’s vest where blood was seeping out from his lower abdomen. The girl had assumed that the soldier had missed, but two bullets had found their mark.
“Matt! I told you to wait for me! Dammit!” she said to him as she ran to him. She kneeled in front of him and inspected his wounds. “Oh no… No! This is bad!” she thought out loud. “No! No! We’ve gotta get you back to the safe-house quick!” she said. “Alunya will fix you right up, you’ll see” she assured herself.

“Mmm… She’s comin’ too” he said and threw a nod in the girl’s direction.
“We can’t bring her with us! Mattie, please, you’re wounded. You’re not thinking straight right now!” she said as she tried to help the stranger up on his feet.
“Can walk on my own!” he sneered at her, and pushed her off. “She’s comin’ or I’m not!” he wheezed.
“She’ll slow us down! Please, you’re bleeding out!” she said.
“Aye… Mmm… You gonna let me?” he replied a little more faintly than before.
“Y-you petulant  child!” she yelled. She looked to the girl with a stern look in her eyes. Then back at the masked figure. Then back at the girl once more.
“O-okay” she said. “Okay. The kid is coming with us” she reaffirmed. “But this is a huge risk for both us and the kid. You’re being a bloody idiot”
“Mmm…” the stranger murmured, getting on his feet.
“Kid, it seems you’re coming with us for whatever foolish reason Mattie here has gotten into his head” she said to the girl.
“You’ve got a name, kid?”
“Y-yeah” the girl stuttered.
“Rodina. My name is Rodina”