Page 47 of The Fury She Holds
Tal opened her jacket and lifted the hem of her shirt without another word. Madge didn’t have accidents.
The dim candlelight revealed the bruises blooming around her midsection, earning her a few angry tsks from the old woman and a sharp inhale from Faron. Madge set to work poking, prodding, hunting for herbs, and doing what Tal liked to call senile magic for the non-magical. “How do you know Madge?” she asked the noble.
He had stood back since depositing Tal on the table, quietly observing the exchange between the two women. “Pure luck. She happened to find me in distress, and I was happy to pay for her services.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. You were looking like a fool trying to set that dislocated shoulder by yourself,” Madge grumbled without taking her eyes off her work.
Tal offered a triumphant smile. “So, I’m not the only one getting into fights around here.”
“No. You are,” Madge replied quickly.
Faron ducked his head. “I slipped off a roof.” Tal’s laugh made her wince, but it was worth the look on her companion’s face. “I have since purchased a better pair of boots. Good for roof hopping.” A pause in the conversation had him making very obvious attempts to avoid seeing Tal’s indecently exposed ribcage while she winced, and the old woman worked. “So… how many nights in a row is this for you? Is that a you thing, or a ‘docks’ thing?”
Tal exchanged a knowing look with Madge before she responded. “Well, both? I guess trouble tends to find me."
Madge narrowed her eyes.
"Okay, so I get myself into those situations,” Tal clarified. “But it’s also somewhat normal for life here.”
“Isn’t there a sheriff around here?” Faron shook his head.
“He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t. The docks are run by the gangs. Or rather, they were. It’s all up in the air now that Pochette’s gone.”
He pursed his lips. “How long has it been like this?”
“As long as I can remember.”
Madge chimed in this time, “Life at the docks was rough but fairly safe until the old king died. After that, we were forgotten, and a bunch of shady traders settled here knowing no one would stop them from taking advantage.”
Faron narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he asked, “And the orphans? The beggars? The sick?” He referred to the sad state of nearly everyone unfortunate enough to call the docks home. Illness spread like wildfire, and only those with extra coin could afford help whether from a natural healer, a magical healer, or an alchemist. And with illness running rampant, what children survived were often left orphaned on the streets once the debtors came to collect their due. Good food was scarce, and cleanliness a luxury no one could afford. No one ventured into their part of the kingdom for fear of catching something. And for that reason, Tal had trouble trusting Faron’s intentions, even though her friends were less wary.
“Once the money stopped coming in, and Pochette took what was left, the streets were flooded with them. There ain’t enough gold in the kingdom or decent people to care for everyone.” Madge narrowed her eyes when Tal frowned. “Don’t go down that road again, girl. I told you taking on Pochette meant nothing but trouble.”
“Tell that to Carrick. He’s the one pushing for us to do more. Besides, we have no resources now that his businesses are gone. One issue at a time,” she muttered the last part under her breath.
Madge finished treating Tal while Faron stood brooding in the corner. Tal wondered what part of their conversation upset him.This was neither his home nor his responsibility. The docks were an unfixable problem, a lost cause. Anyone who couldn’t see that had to be blind.
Despite Tal’s protests, Faron paid Madge for her services. The old woman gave Tal some extra herbs, told her to rest until the broken rib healed, then sent her on her way. She had a headache, her midsection ached, and she just wanted to lay down in her own bed.
Faron walked Tal back to a tunnel entrance close enough that she could make it home without incident. “You’re sure I can’t walk you home?” he asked.
She held a hand across her middle to support her tender ribs. “I’ll be fine. The walk is short from here.” She gestured off into the distance.
“Then you must promise to rest.” He stood with his hands behind his back, kicking his feet like a nervous child.
“I can’t.” Her mood darkened. “I have to find those men.”
Faron held up a finger. “Madge gave strict instructions. I’m sure one of your friends can handle the search until you’re well enough.”
He wasn’t wrong. She already planned to send Egan out in the morning. And Rainier’s network must know something about gangs being approached by a mage searching for a redhead. “True, but your concern won’t stop me from silencing them myself,” she warned.
“Only long enough for you to heal properly, I swear.” When Tal didn’t object, he asked again, “So, you’ll rest then?”
Tal nodded. “Until I can take an elixir—myelixir.”
“Excellent!” He clapped his hands together, making Tal jump and wince. “Sorry! Sorry!” Faron reached out, but she waved him off. “I’ll return tomorrow evening to ensure you’ve rested.”
“Don’t trust me?” She chuckled.
