Chapter II: Hired

So they settled down in that town for a while, Slan waiting to be called for hunting down Baron Cainan. They were together for a part of the night, then she would go to sleep, wake up quite late in the morning, find some occupation in the house and she would wake him up late in the afternoon, when she was going in town, so that there was always one of them awake, no matter the hour of the day - or the night. She was wondering how he could wait to be hired when nobody knew of his presence here, but he always refused to answer when she asked him the question and after several refusals, she just gave up, not liking particularly to meet with refusal or silence.
One evening she met with the 'dogs' of the Baron and they recognized her as quickly as she recognized them, except the fourth one, whom she had never seen before.
"Where is your companion?" asked one of them.
"Home, waiting for my return," she retorted, hoping they would take the hint and leave her alone.
"He doesn't like sunlight?" he continued, indeed not taking the hint.
"He loves it. He's probably sitting in the yard, enjoying the last sunbeams."
Actually, Slan was most probably working in the bedroom to make it usable, all the shutters tightly closed, but they didn't need to know that. She was surprised to notice that she was lying to protect him and she hadn't even thought about it! It came naturally to her: they could not know about Slan's nature. They wanted to ask her some more questions, probably finding her more pliable - and less frightening maybe - than Slan, but she cut them short:
"Excuse me, I have to go, he's waiting for me."
They followed her, but, as soon as she noticed it, she stopped and put on the ground the few parcels she was carrying.
"I think it's getting too far. Leave me alone!"
"We are agents of the Baron, so you would better be a little nice to us," smirked one of them.
She was no fighter, no hunter like Slan, but she wasn't the kind of girl to be easily frightened and she had bought that very day something that could be useful against them. She bent down and picked up the long stick, making it turn in her hands.
"Agents of the Baron or not, you have no right to annoy me and follow me! Now leave me alone or you will learn to your cost that I know how to use this!"
The fourth 'dog' smiled discreetly as if he was truly enjoying her wits. People began to gather around to watch this girl who dared to defy four well-known agents of the Baron. They recognised her as a stranger to the town, so she couldn't know that nobody was entitled to defy the Baron's authority, but those who usually ended up here knew some things about the Baron.
The leader of the 'dogs' sniggered and her riposte was immediate:
"Since you're barking more loudly than the others, let's hear your whining!"
Her stick turned in her hands and fell heavily on the man's shoulders, before tripping him. She blocked him on the ground with her stick and looked at the three others expectedly.
"Well? Only bark, no bite?"
They preferred to abandon the ground, on the fourth's one command, as she noticed absent-mindedly.

As she arrived home, Slan asked without looking at her:
"Any problem?"
She knew he had noticed she had come later and she replied succinctly:
"Not really. Brief encounter with the dogs."
"How did it go?"
"Quite well. With a bit of luck, they now believe you love to be under the sun and that the real danger between you and me is me."
"How so?" said Slan, still looking at whatever he was fixing.
"The encounter ended in a fight and they left without another word."
She could tell he was frowning.
"Were they the three dogs we've already met with?"
"Yes and there was a fourth one. Actually, he made them leave."
"Did he say anything?"
"No. He just motioned them to leave and the rest of the time he looked like he was enjoying the conversation."
Slan turned on his heels to face her and whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a new feminine voice:
"Oh! Are you..."
"Yes, I am," he retorted darkly, furious that his companion had betrayed him.
"So you will help me?"
He blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting from someone knowing he was a nightwalker!
"This is Orona. She wants to hire you, hunter."
Then he understood. She hadn't betrayed him, she had found someone to hire him!
"Yes, I will help you," he said slowly.
"Thank you so much!"
"One question, Orona: did you assist to the encounter with the dogs and if yes, do you know the fourth dog?"
"Of course. His name is Ramican."
Slan nodded. Orona smiled shyly and, at the door, said:
"Thank you, Dawn, for introducing me to him!"
The door closed on Orona and Slan said carefully:
"You never told me what your name was."
"You never asked for it either," she replied quietly without any hint of bitterness.
Much to his chagrin, Slan had to admit it was true. It was only after a few miles that she had asked for his name, her curiosity replacing her fear, but he had never thought of asking for hers.
"What motivated Orona to hire me?" he asked.
"She saw the whole encounter and so she heard them asking about you. She said the only times the dogs ever do that are when they think there's a hunter. She saw me defeat the leader of the dogs and she decided that it was time for action now."
"What's her story?"
"Well, contrary to what you think, it seems that Baron Cainan is more interested in her than in me. The dogs bullied her more than once, trying to bring her to the Baron, but she had always escaped... till now."
Slan looked lengthily at her and was quite surprised to see she hadn't even blushed.
"I admit I was wrong, but what I think now is worse. You didn't attract Baron Cainan, but you did attract his son! For Ramican is Baron Cainan's son. He's a dhampyr too, but a daywalker, and it's fortunate for us that he wasn't there the first evening, for he knows me very well. And I certainly remember him..." he added, rubbing the back of his left hand.
She had noticed his martyred hand once he had taken away his gloves, but she hadn't dared asking questions. Now seemed the good occasion, but she somehow knew he wouldn't answer.
"Why does Ramican's name not contain 'Cain'?" she asked casually.
"It does, actually. His real name is Cain Ramican. But, contrary to his father, he thinks that he can do without letting people know that he's from Cain's lineage. His mother's blood, I guess."
"Is Ramican the only child of Baron Cainan?"
"No. He has a daughter, Namaah, who's also a dhampyr. Namaah is younger than Ramican, but a lot wiser and kinder too."
"You know her too?"
"Yes, she saved me from her brother. Ramican has fully embraced his strigoï inheritance, except for the day walk part, but Namaah has kept some of her humanity. She knows she is something like a monstrosity, so she'd do anything to prevent her father and brother to do that again. But don't be mistaken! It may seem kind and thoughtful, but sometimes, the ways she uses are not so kind. It often ends up with the death of the human."
"I understand."
"Are you still with me? If you are captured by Ramican, you will more than probably become his wife. And if you are captured by the Baron, well, he will more than probably give you to his son."
"Answer me first: why don't the strigoïs leave their integrity to those they marry?"
"It's a question of trust. For a strigoï, a human is still unpredictable. If you don't trust the human, then you have to imprison him or her during the day and be sure there are no weapons around. Most prefer to kill their will by making them strigoïs. It's very hard to revolt against one's Sire."
"I see. So if I'm captured, I will end up a strigoaïca?"
"Most probably, but then, maybe not. It will depend of what Ramican feels for you. What do you decide?"
"If I'm transformed, will you kill me?"
"Yes," he replied instantly.
"I'm still with you... if you promise never to believe again I'll betray you. I lied to save you, why would I betray you the minute after?"
Slan had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
"Which weapons do you know to use?"
"A stick and that's pretty much all," she shrugged.
"Staff," rectified Slan absent-mindedly. "Listen, I'm used to fight strigoïs alone, but if I let you behind me, I'll have to rescue you every ten minutes, because Ramican cannot do anything else but come for you. So I prefer to keep you with me."
"I see. Well, I don't really want to play 'damsel in distress', so if you are going to teach me how to defend myself, then begin right now!"
He nodded appreciatively and showed the weapons that had been in the cart, but were now safely locked inside the house. During the whole night, behind the closed shutters, the house didn't know any respite. Hour after hour, Slan taught her how to fight. If he was patient - what was time for him? - she couldn't say he was gentle. He never had more than a nod for encouragement, though he never looked hopelessly despaired by her occasional clumsiness. In the morning she was so tired that she went straight to bed and Slan, thinking that she had been awake for longer than he had, didn't say he was tired too and let her enjoy her rest.
The following days were more or less made on the same pattern. She was sleeping during the morning, he was during the afternoon and during the night they were training. After several lessons, it became obvious that the weapon she was best at was - surprisingly - the crossbow. After that Slan trained her almost only with the crossbow and, occasionally, with the two others she showed some good aptitudes to: the staff and the whip. He spent countless mornings working on a crossbow to suit her perfectly and he could tell she truly appreciated the gift.
Thoughtfully, that same day, he looked at her instead of sleeping. She was quite silent, never speaking of the betrayal she had gone through, but he knew it was still in her mind. In the rare occasions she mentioned them, she always designed them as her family and the strigoï he had killed was apparently her father - or had played such a role. She was tougher than she looked and it was all for the better, he decided, thinking of the task awaiting them. It was the first time he thought of working with someone else and the idea didn't disturb him as much as he had thought it would. She was good with the crossbow, capable to hit almost any target. With the crossbow Slan had offered silver bolts and he was sure it would come in handy soon enough for both of them...

Text © Azrael 2002.
Set Gothiquesque, from Moyra/Mystic PC 1998.