By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) Read online

  Lying with Dirk, Cinder had never been so fulfilled, not in any facet of her life. Dirk had never wanted love so desperately. Neither had ever experienced such satisfaction; a bond that would tie them to each other for the rest of Dirk’s lengthy—as far as human lives—years. Cinder, exhausted and content, did not wake until midday; Dirk had already gone. By arriving after lunch, she nearly lost her job, but at that moment she cared very little: Dirk was all Cinder could think about for days to follow, and human sleep had seemed the perfect follow-up to such human acts. Though all she cared about was being with Dirk, making love and partying her hours away, Cinder knew that time was marching on and that changes were coming into her life.

  3

  The Fiend flew through the cloudy, moonless dark; the muggy, oppressive night. Sounds carried great distances on the windless air. Down the hill in the harbor the city’s ghostly silence was broken by the clanking of a chain, followed by the splash of an anchor hitting the water. Then all was quiet again. The Fiend could hear Itself breathing, panting, sucking the still, stifling, damp air into Its lungs. It sniffed. Nothing. Again It took off on silent, agile legs. It had been running unseen all night and dawn would soon break. It needed prey; not another empty night. The Fiend hungered. Lusted. It was compelled to prey; bred for it. It felt fear spreading slowly through the city. By word of mouth, in hushed whispers of the “thing,” the “creature,” the “abomination,” but “fiend” was the name It liked best. Man and woman came out into the darkness less now, but driven by their own nature, many humans lived in the night, as did the Fiend. They shared the night, but not for long. Soon, It would rule; one life at a time.

  It stopped: the Fiend heard something. A creak. A floorboard creak? No, it was the opening of a shutter that made that sound. It sucked up It’s drool, did the Fiend, Its intensity heightened. Stalking slowly, silently, the Fiend stole into the alley. It saw an open shutter; vile light streaming forth. The Fiend crossed to the far side of the way, skulking through the shadows. It smelled, then saw, her. She stood by the sink, washing something; suspecting nothing.

  Maria could not stand the heat so she opened the shutter to allow the predawn cool, if it could be called that, to leak in. Her husband had left dirty dishes again which needed cleaning if she wanted breakfast herself before leaving for work, and if she did not want beaten again when she came home. She worked the pump then heard a scraping in the alley. She could not see anything. Maria leaned forward. Still nothing. She wiped her brow with her robe sleeve.

  Something flashed and she jumped, but too late, having been caught roughly by the throat. She could not scream as It pulled her toward the window. It was an arm: thick, huge, knotty, gnarled. Her mind raced and she reached into the drawer, pulling out a knife. Maria was off balance, her feet off the ground scrambling, kicking at nothing, at anything. When Maria brought the knife down over her head to slash the arm, her wrist was caught by another great limb. It grabbed her, stopping her blow cold. She did not hear her forearm snap, nor the knife clank as it hit the wooden floor. In front of Maria was a snarling face. She could not make out the features because the eyes held her: they were green, a burning green, full of rage and hate. Maria was ripped up over the counter, then out the window where she met the cobblestones face first and her world went black.

  Dirk had been seeing Cinder for two weeks, Melissa three, and had grown close to them both. He felt an unintentional dependence on them growing, the first two people he had needed in his life, and both had been met only days apart. He did not question the draw he felt, owing such feelings to his attraction to them and to their liking of him. He had not told Melissa about Cinder. He did not know why, but he felt for some reason that he should. Perhaps it was because he thought of Melissa as more of a friend than a lover, as Cinder clearly eclipsed that role in his life.

  Melissa’s presence was still a blessing: he was no longer alone. While Dirk liked Cinder and her carefree wheeling about the city, Melissa was straight forward, true: a real person that he could count on if he ever needed help. But he could not doubt his desires for Cinder, which were growing stronger every day. She was, simply put, incredible. She made him feel important, desired, and good at something. His life had meaning; something he had never felt before: for a woman like Cinder to desire to spend her time with a man like Dirk meant he must have been a greater man than he had imagined. Dirk wished his success had been at something he valued, but to be lauded for his caring, which is how he loved women, it was better than not being wanted for anything.

  But Cinder was more than a mere sex partner and Dirk believed he somehow meant more to her. Cinder did want to lie with Dirk every time she was with him, but before and after, she was truly friendly and showed how she cared for Dirk as a person, his plans and his dreams. While Cinder might have cared for Dirk no more than Melissa, she was so open, so unabashed, so curious that her concern was unmistakable and Melissa so quiet Dirk often wondered what truly was in her heart, or so he told himself. It was so easy to be with Cinder: she was so carefree and open: she hid nothing. She just seemed preoccupied with sex and when it was over, she questioned him on everything in his life; everything in the city. One of the few things he felt an expert on was Andrelian life; he lived and worked on those streets. And Cinder could not get enough of that knowledge, giving them something other than sex to occupy their time. He understood what she meant when she said she had been studying people for a long time: Cinder was studying him, he knew it, and he didn’t mind.

  Dirk and Melissa had just finished another dinner at her place when Dirk pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. It really was his chair: he had delivered two of them from his room a few days before, knowing full well that he got more use out of them at Melissa’s table than he did at home.

  “That was good,” he commented. “Beef is my favorite.” Melissa dumped the scraps back into the pan.

  “I sure feel strange not having a dog to give these to,” she commented. “We had a lot at home.”

  “I never had one,” Dirk said absently, his mind, instead, on his changing life, and how much progress he had made that day in bettering it. Finally finding someone, though they were women, that he truly trusted as friends filled Dirk with new confidence, and he began to emerge from his sanctum of life alone. He had talked to Mr. Bessemer that very day about his desire for promotion and his plan to serve as security for the store.

  Mr. Bessemer, a friendly but busy man, was impressed with Dirk’s aggressiveness for the position, and surprised at his relative wisdom and preparedness for the conversation. This, combined with the deliveryman’s strength, made the promotion seem beneficial to all concerned. Mr. Bessemer had previously thought Dirk none-too-bright, but saw through this misconception during their meeting. Dirk and Mr. Bessemer got on quite well and with some of the owner’s personal changes, Dirk was promoted on the spot to Chief of Security and allotted a tab amounting to what used to be a year’s salary for use on equipment he would need. His pay was quadrupled. But Dirk was faced with a dilemma: he had no idea how to tell Melissa. They had been working at least four hours together each day and he would miss that. And he also feared she would think he had gotten her the job only so he could move on and up, using her for his own advancement.

  “What’s the matter?” Melissa asked politely, noticing his silence. Dirk shrugged. “I have something to tell you,” she announced, since he continued his silence. Melissa had noticed Dirk pulling away from her more and more as a lover. He came to dine with her less and so was in her bed less often. She felt she was losing him and if she wanted to keep him as a lover maybe she needed to lose him as a co-worker. She had made her decision.

  Dirk was relieved at her need to speak, being able to wait a little longer before breaking the news to her. “I think I’m going to quit. I found a better job,” she stumbled through the words. Dirk’s relief was short-lived; worried Bessemer would not let him move up if Melissa left as well. Before Dirk could speak s
he added, “Candy…and the other horses are doing much better and I will look in on them for free every week or so…”

  “What job?” Dirk interrupted, slightly angry, though trying to hide as much.

  “Bodyguard,” Melissa answered solemnly then she brightened. “Oh Dirk, you should see the place. It’s real nice. It’s a whole house, too. Free food, and beer,” she exclaimed. “And it’s easy. Boy does this guy have a nice house. It’s like a mansion. I mean...it really is a mansion. And the other guards are pretty nice, too.”

  “But what about your old job?” he cried.

  “I already said I’d take it,” Melissa whispered, her shoulders shrugged to cover her anxiety.

  “Ahhh!” Dirk screamed. “Melissa, no!” he said as panic set in.

  “Why not?” Melissa asked, her voice whiny.

  “Well...just because,” Dirk said.

  “Why?” she asked, growing angry, her shoulders jutting back defensively in conjunction with the narrowing of her eyes. Dirk was hiding something, she could read it in his eyes. “I thought you were my friend! I thought you would be happy for me.”

  “Don’t get mad, Melissa,” he warned cautiously, her look enough to warn him of her temper. Their hands rose simultaneously, his to point his finger in her face, her arm rising to slap his face. “Listen first. Look, I finally got a chance to make some more money. I already said I’d do it, too. It’s Mr. Bessemer. He’s already promoted me to head of security and given me my bonus. If you leave, he might not let me keep it.”

  “That’s really great...” Melissa started in earnest, her face going from angry to smiling in a moment. “Wait a minute...you want me to keep your job while you move up? To Hell with me then, right?” she yelled, once again growing angry and moving up to the edge of her seat, as if she would leap over the table and seize him.

  “No, I guess not,” Dirk said quietly as he wondered what they could do. Then it hit him. “We need to find you a replacement!” he exclaimed, standing up and pounding the table with his fist.

  “We need to find you a replacement,” she argues.

  “Tonight!” he pounded again, ignoring—though not disagreeing with—her counterpoint and they both raced out, eager to solve their dilemma.

  Dirk and Melissa started at the Phalanx Tavern down on the corner, and with no success there, they traveled tavern to tavern. Their luck at each establishment was equally bad; finding no one either suitable or willing to take the job. Neither of them could believe it: they each knew that the job paid better than many in the city; it was just ill timing, they assumed, that kept them from finding a successor. At midnight they called off the search and sat down with a pitcher of beer, each, hoping to either find another solution or drink the problem off of their minds and worry about it in the morning, when their actions might reap new changes on their lives. One pitcher led to two, which led them back to Melissa’s bed. This time there was no shame and no guilt, simply the overwhelming satisfaction that they found in loving each other and postponing their problem through sheer delight.

  But at sunrise, an undaunted Melissa shook Dirk from slumber. “Come on. Let’s get to the market. We’ve got one more chance,” she said, practically dragging him out of bed, even helping him dress in her hurry. “If we can find someone quickly, we might still be all right.” They rushed together down the stairs and out into the street.

  They had been walking through the immense marketplace for over half-an-hour, finding no one in need of a job fit enough to perform it; the whole while, Dirk complaining that they had to hurry and that if they did not report to work they would lose even their delivery jobs. As they stood arguing over the possibility of such an occurrence, Dirk noticed a dirty but heavily muscled man leaning against a nearby building, gazing around, his hopelessness lighting Dirk’s heart with joy. “There!” Dirk exclaimed, and they both raced over to the man. He did not notice until they were mere steps away, and a startled, nearly horrified look passed over his hirsute, unshaven face as the two athletic forms grabbed hold of him.

  “Do you need a job?” Dirk asked excitedly.

  “A good one?” Melissa added.

  “All you have to do is deliver some things.”

  “Not many things.”

  “You can do it.”

  “You look strong.”

  The man stared at them in turn, back and forth, thinking that they, or he, had gone mad. He tried to answer, but neither Dirk nor Melissa shut up long enough for him to say a word. Since he never said “no” to them, not having had the opportunity, Melissa and Dirk hustled him off all the way to Bessemer’s before he gave any sort of a reply. It turned out that the man did want and need the work. He accepted, was hired, and Dirk and Melissa were free; on Mr. Bessemer’s condition that Dirk make sure the new employee was first properly trained.

  Melissa thought often about Dirk: he was the kind of man she would like to marry, build a farm and raise half-a-dozen children with. She was thinking about him as she climbed the stairs. She went to the second floor, down the hall and opened the door to her new room. It was small and simple, with only a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and one window, though cleaner and possessing finer furnishings than her last room. She would miss the room where she and Dirk had first become friends. She would miss making dinner for him there, too. Everyone at her new home ate together in the dining room—those not on duty next door in the mansion.

  Melissa set her sack of belongings, as well as her backpack, onto the bed. Brushing the hair out of her eyes she opened the shutters and, squinting, looked out into the street. Their house was near the north gate and, like Bessemer’s down at the south gate and a massive city away from Dirk, traffic was heavy. It was the height of the trading season and merchant trains were carrying goods from this town to that city, and from that port to this castle. The season meant a lot of itinerate people from all walks coming to Andrelia to sell, buy or trade and there were many strangers in town. So far away from Dirk, Melissa could not help but see how it mirrored their growing distance while even lying side by side. At that moment she could not see how moving physically farther from him would bring him closer romantically. But then maybe such complications were better put on hold, at least for a while.

  Melissa heard footsteps behind her and turned solemnly to see who it was. “Hello,” Fiona said, walking over and sitting on the bed, laying her mace down next to her. Melissa turned and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

  “Hi,” she said as they looked at each other.

  “I’m so glad you finally decided to come over,” Fiona said brightly, to which Melissa faintly smiled. “Do you have any weapons?” asked Fiona.

  “Just this,” Melissa said, patting her hunting knife, “two wood-axes in my pack, and my bow.”

  “Would you like to go buy a sword?”

  “I don’t have that kind of money,” Melissa said with surprise.

  “I’ll spot you some until you get paid...enough for a short sword,” Fiona said, rising up. “Come on.” So Melissa went with Fiona to a weapon shop, as much to purchase a weapon as to get more acquainted. She looked around carefully, finally buying a short sword: straight with a keen edge and a silver pommel. “You need some kind of armor. This isn’t much, but it helps,” Fiona said pointing to her own protection, convincing Melissa to buy a leather tunic like she wore. Melissa bought the armor, a small brightly polished helm and some razor sharp war arrows before her funds were exhausted.

  They talked a great deal that day. Melissa had only ever had one girlfriend before; friends in her life had always seemed to be men, or boys. It was nice for her, she thought, to have someone again with whom she could talk about males, especially now that she found, all of a sudden, that she could not understand them anymore, primarily Dirk. Melissa hoped Fiona might stay her friend for a long time: she no longer trusted women, in general, but Fiona warmed to Melissa like she did to no other and her infatuation for her made Melissa appreciate her friendship and open u
p to her.

  Melissa had never met anyone as intelligent as Fiona: she knew so much. She knew history, different languages, religion, and always seemed to have the right answers for any of Melissa’s questions. Melissa felt secure. Fiona, she thought, could solve any problem.

  “How old are you?” Melissa asked, as they leisurely walked home. “You look like...well...real young.”

  “I’m twenty.”

  “Wow! You don’t look that old. How long have you worked for Delsenar?”

  “About two years. Only Marlo, you know, the fat guy, and Relarius, the handsome swordsman,” she said with her brows raised teasingly, smiling, “are newer than I. Donagee...”

  “The tall man?” Melissa asked.

  “...yeah. He and Anna, that bitch, have been there longer. Gosh...Don has been here about six years, I think. Anna’s been here half that and thinks she owns the place,” Fiona sighed haughtily. “Do you want some wine?” she asked, trying to change subjects, looking disgusted at the mention of Anna’s name.

  “I don’t like wine,” said Melissa.

  “You can have a beer.”

  “All right,” Melissa said, so they stopped and had a few drinks before going back to the house, where Melissa tried to settle in as best she could. All of her new co-workers, except for Anna, were kind to her. Melissa felt comfortable there in time and her job grew easier as she learned Delsenar’s rules of where she could, and could not, go within the mansion. Her home was cleaner and better furnished and it was more secure with all the armed guards living there. Life, physically, became easy for Melissa, and more promising for Fiona. But emotionally Melissa’s short-lived bliss would change, the turmoil of her life would return and peace would be far away in her future.

  Dirk relocated as well, to the top of Bessemer’s so that he could better guard the store. It was a fair trade-off for both Dirk and Mr. Bessemer: not only did the establishment essentially have a twenty-four hour guard, but Dirk no longer had to pay rent. Bessemer’s was huge: three expansive floors and two full basement levels filled with virtually anything desired. It was the most comprehensive shop in the city, and thus the western civilized world.