The Girl with the Dagger.

 

                Sunlight broke the edge of the horizon bringing the dark shadows of the Bernin alleys into light and Beatrice was running. They alleyways were thin and the buildings crammed close together. Had it been midday it would have been difficult to navigate through a sea of people that walk through these streets. Her boots made a trotting noise as she touched her feet down on the uneven cobble stone. Sweat was cascading from her forehead causing her hair to stick to her thin cheeks. Behind her two oafish looking men were giving her chase and, despite their size, not letting up.

                “Come back here she-devil!” The roundish looking one shouted. Beatrice had been called many things, but she-devil was a new one. She almost wanted to yell something back to them, but didn’t want to sacrifice her breath for a snappy pun.

                The alleyway began to widen and descend slightly down to a “T” in the road. She could see a man at the end turning a sign on the outside window of what looked like a Bakery. The sunlight was beaming down on the street ahead of her like a beacon bringing her out of this dark alley into the light. The thuggish men were still a reasonable distance behind her so she slowed her pace in hopes one of them would trip up when she turned.

                She was running straight to the bakery and the man standing at the open door had a confused look on his face. It was as if she was running directly at him. At the last minute she made a turn to the left and could hear a great “Oof!” and crashing behind her. The yelling and the curses began to fade as she picked up speed and began to sprint down the sunlit alley. Beatrice turned her head and could see the more muscular looking thug was still in pursuit.

                This was just her luck. Beatrice knew she was in debt with a few loaners and had swindled a few unhappy merchants out of cards, but was unaware that it was so bad that they would send collectors knocking at her front door. To make matters worse she didn’t even know who was after her. Anold, Perro, that merchant she swindled last week, it could have been anyone in the past few years that held contempt for her.

                She just needed to keep up her pace a little longer. Beatrice almost felt out of breath at that moment. Her heart was racing and her lungs were beginning to burn.  She focused her gaze forward using her keen eye. Up ahead was scaffolding with a deep drop off. If she timed her turn correctly then she could get this right. Her keen eye moved wildly in her eye socket. Her boot hit a deep puddle and splashed mud and water into the air. Beatrice slowed her pace a little to catch her breath and to give the thug behind her enough time to think she was getting tired. No, in fact she was just getting started.

                The buildings were starting to space out a little more and the street was becoming a little less narrow. This told her that she was reaching the sea port. There was only one turn and it was to the right. A hand grasped for her vest. The thug was closer than she thought. He grunted and gasped for breath determined to catch her. The street was coming to an end and she could catch clear blue skies in the distance. Beatrice sprinted as hard as she could and ran to the wall on the left. She jumped against it and rolled to the right. The thug, in an almost comedic manner, tried his best to stop, but the cobble stone streets were too slippery for him to find balance and he tumbled over the edge.

                Beatrice sprung to her hands and knees panting and gasping for air in desperation.  She crawled over to the edge of the scaffolding and looked over the edge. The drop was a big one and the thug was sprawled out on the ground below. Dock workers looked up at her in stunned silence and confusion. A big hand suddenly grasped the back of her neck and lifted her up in the air.

                “Got you,” screamed the other thug from before. The tumble into the shop had slowed him down, but did not stop him. She wanted to curse herself for relaxing too soon, but the grip tightened and she was now focusing on the pain. “I ought ta’ gut you right here, but the boss don’t like to keep waiting.”

                “Oh I think he can wait a bit longer,” a stoic voice said. Beatrice was dropped to the ground and the thug next to her tumbled to the side. She turned, grabbing her dagger from her bodice, and pointed it at the figure standing above her. “I saved your life Beatrice. Not the time to make new enemies.”

                He was a younger looking man in a long black coat and a bowler hat. His hair was pitch black parting from both sides. His face was pale and recognizable in the bright sunlight that beamed around him. He held a long blade in his gloved right hand and wiped blood off of it using a pure white handkerchief. He placed the blade back in its sheath that looked to double as a walking stick.

                “If you want to know who sent those men I can tell you that my sources tell me it’s Perro. Though, I know for a fact that you have made quite a few enemies in the past few years. Failed jobs, robbery, fraud and…I’m forgetting something else.”

                “Murder,” Beatrice said pushing herself off of the hard stones. “I have murdered a few people.”

                “Ah, yes, nobles too, they aren’t very happy about that,” he adjusted the coat around his neck continuing to gaze at Beatrice his eyes a piercing blue color.

                “So, are you one of those that I happened to anger? What do you want to do about it?”

                “To my fortune, and yours, you have done nothing to me. What I am more concerned about is what you can do for me.”

                “Who are you?”

                “Best you not know my real name. Not many people do anyway. Around here I’m simply known as the Broker. There isn’t a place in this city that I don’t have my hands in and nothing that I cannot control. Still, every once and a while a wild card comes along and shakes a few things up. I like that. You are my wild card.”

                “Okay,” Beatrice put her dagger away, “What do you want from me?”

                “You have very specific skills that I need for a job. There will be no future debt to pay and you will not be in my service indefinitely. I do not wish to see you another time and I don’t want you to see me.”

                “If I’m going to do a job for you,” Beatrice pointed at him, “then I would need something in return. I need…”

                “All debts paid, all loaners and thugs off of your back, and a guarantee of my full protection. You do this task for me and you have a new lease on life.”

                Beatrice was taken aback. She had heard rumors of the Broker before, but just rumors. He supposedly is a powerful and wealthy lord of the city who is the whisper on the lips of criminals and gangsters. If there is something he wants then he has the means to change and shape it to his needs. These are the rumors, but how can she even know that this man is who he says he is.

                “You can guarantee that?” Beatrice asked.

                “Beatrice, I have a short time dealing with maybes and proof of who I am. You have my word and that is my bond. You are an investment to me and I always take care of my investments. If you want to waste my time then I’m sure Perro…”

                “No, okay, I’ll do it,” she blurted this out without even knowing the job.

                “Excellent. Tomorrow I have booked a passage for you to the Islands. There you will wait for the first sky barge back to this city. On board is a man who has something I want and unfortunately business deals have broken down. He will stay in the most expensive cabin on board and always carries a long string around his neck. Attached to this string is a small idol. I want it. Do what you must I do not care how you do it, but get that idol for me. A man will be waiting at the docks for your arrival and will approach you saying he works for me. Give him the idol, no words, and continue into the city. After that you are a free woman. Here are your tickets.”

The Broker flicked his fingers and what appeared were two tickets to a barge down at the docks. Beatrice slowly took them and looked at the first ticked. In brilliant calligraphy it said the next flight was at 8:45. She looked out to the Northern part of the city where the Ciribillim Clock Tower stood. A wrecked heap of metal and steam it stood as the tallest structure in the entire city. It read 8:33.

“S**t! That’s in almost 10 minutes.”

“Then you better hurry cause you do not want to miss the flight,” The Broker turned and began walked up the street. He turned back for a moment, “Oh and do be careful. Perro still has men looking for you and I’d hate to see something happen to my…Investment. Take care.” With a slight nod he walked out of sight.