Short story - Charlotte the Red

Easy, easy my love, it's just a little bleeder, you ain't done yet. There are more to fuck up. It's time. You will pass out if you don't act now. Go go.

The tavern was stifling, and stunk of blood and warm stinking meat. Dead men lay around the room, faces slack, arrogance wiped clean. One was impaled on an upturned chair. So confident he hadn't even bothered to wear armor and now his clothing was stretched taught across his chest as much was dragged into the holes in his back. It had taken quite a bit of doing to stomp him down so far.

She tried to bury the feeling of heat at the death delt at her hands, sliding the steel from

Someone's belly and the look of sudden surprise in their face, and the feel of a blade

meeting bone. She masked it behind despair at so much waste and a promise unkept.

But Sofia, always so in-tune, picked it up

The little girls voice whispered encouragingly in her head, intimate in a way a real child isn't and excited by the blood-shed. Even after all these years the little girls voice hadn't changed but it was no longer disconcerting. Once it had raged and cried but over time it had become her constant companion, the one who was there to pick her up when her will waned, a crude woman with the voice of a child. Sofia was far more blood thirsty than she ever had been and had lost the cultured edge.

Shut it Sophia, I need to think.

She peaked out the window to eye the group of soldiers arrayed near the entrance. A some point in the melee she had lost her glasses so the faces were all fuzzy indistinct. Doesn’t matter, she thought, in the end they all die the same but the present danger of crossbows was evident.

A tall man stood at the centre calling out in confident tones. She could not make out the face but she knew the kind well and knew who he was. His smug smile plastered on his face calling for her to come out. The triumph in his voice was obvious even if she could not make our his speech with the ringing in one ear. A few decades back she had been too close to a cannon below decks. But she heard enough to know he was well into a significant monologue, bolstering his troops. They didn't know the extent of the murder that had happened within.

Cunt

There was nowhere else to go really. She was in it no doubt. No doubt the back was equally guarded. They won't make the same mistake of sending in more people. If the situation was reversed she would of been a cunt about it too. No doubt.

Her hands were shaking, knuckles swollen after the sudden violence. Blood leaked in a

spreading stain from under her waistcoat. She glanced down at the boy still sitting quietly under the table, hungrily watching lightning as it raced over his fingers, oblivious to carnage. The boy was beautiful - all curls and giant eyes. But he paid the world no mind, too engrossed in doing something nobody had even seen in a few decades. People had forgotten. But she hadn't understood that hunger only too well

I didn't intend to go like this Sophia, should of stayed away. Perhaps it was a mistake.

Always sentimental my love, don't deny it, it was good fun.

She grunted in response and stoically the old woman stood and straightened, her back clicking into place. Disregarding the sword on the table, she pulled out the slender blade at her hip, still wet with congealing blood and hair. The wound at her side did not hurt too bad, her knees had strength left, and she still felt sharp. Sofia was always right, she fucking loved it

Time for us to go lad.

She hauled him out from under the table, but he made no complaint, and marched him to the door holding him close.

I'm coming out with the boy, don't shoot.

She sounded hoars, had probably been screaming during the slaughter. Maybe Jonas would take it as fear. It didn't matter. She took a big steadying breath and grinned to herself. Maybe if she survived she will get two harlots and pay them handsomely. One for her and one for Sophia.

Sophia's delight and laughter danced behind her eyes.  

She walked out into the afternoon sun pushing the lad ahead of her with her knife at his throat - the air pleasantly chill with the changing season. It smelt of sea salt and sea weed on warm rocks and she longed to be back on her old ship. But that was a long time ago and those days were gone.

They stood silently for a moment appraising. A slow smile graced his smug face as he took in the old woman, unconcerned at the plight of her hostage. He thought he held all the cards not really understanding the true nature of what he was seeing. Perhaps if he did his bowels would of turned to water. At least at one time that might have been true. But he did have several crossbows pointed at her, her with all but a knife and a rusty one at that.

Well well, if this isn't the famous general herself. I have to say I'm rather disappointed. Your much less to look at than what I was led to expect. To name yourself after an old wives tale is a bit of conceit don't you think when all you are is broken and old. How could you think you can prevent the inevitable? Did you really think you could escape with the boy, walk out under everyone's noses? Do you think you can come bargain your life.

He looked askance but she gave no reply.

Speaking louder and glancing at his men - Can you believe it, humble Sir Jonas has captured the great Charlotte the Red.   They gave a chuckle. They didn’t know.

She shrugged non- committed. He was a little taken aback at her nonchalance and her steady gaze unafraid taking him in and the semicircle of guards. At least these ones had done her the honor or wearing breastplates.

Your companions seem to have put up a fierce fight and I must give credit to them. I heard there was a bit of a ruckus.  But it appears they are not here to defend you now. Nobody to shield your own legend as you hide behind others. All alone in the entire world, a bitter old woman who's glory days are behind them. Thinking they can stand in the way of progress. But what do you have to show for it now?

He was starting to build up some steam and began to pace in front of her.

That's right. Nothing. No title. No wealth. No airs or political power. You are nothing. No matter what you are going to be dead. We won't let you go, and I doubt you would kill the boy as they would only mean your death. If we stand here long enough you will likely pass out from that wound at your side. It's just a matter of how you want to go - we can make it easy or we can make it painful. The boy belongs to us. Scum like you have no place in the empire. You don't understand the need for maintaining power or have the stomach for it. No space for your bleeding heart making us weak. Charlotte the Red, make it Charlott the Dead…

She sighed and cleared her throat which stopped his tirade and squinted at him.

Jonas, shut up a minute will you.  I just have a few things to say. These last few days I've been thinking over this state of affairs. And maybe you are right. This world doesn't really make sense to me. I've lived too long and seen too much change. I thought I would make a difference. The boy deserves better than to be a puppet of those in power. I really thought I could change. Yeah perhaps once I was a bit like you - ambitious, hungry. Only looking out for yourself and protecting the system that keeps you in power and able to shit on all those beneath you. Except you an't at the top of the heap and that shit just keeps rolling down from above.  We all think we are something special. Like our lives matter in this soup of humanity.  But inside we are really all the same. Comfort, security, belonging, companionship…

Sex and death - Sofia helpfully sniggered in her head.

…like it is something to be horded and sometimes fear there won't be enough for us unless we keep others from getting it.

In short you’re a cunt, like many people. And you got me dead bang so it seems. You know it. Your men know it. However there is something you never take into account.

I've tried to deny my nature. I spent too long at the killing, to the point it stopped having meaning. I tried to go another path despite my better judgement. The boy is one of the few born with the gift these days and men like you always want to contain it. He reminds me of a girl I once looked after. Innocent amongst all your machinations, but considered precious for what you she could do and what man she would carry as soon as able.

She could feel Sophia listening intently. This was something she hadn't heard. I loved her and still do. I didn't think it then but I now know it.  She was sweet and kind and wicked and it touched something soft in me. I've tried to be better. I've done good. It won't ever make up for all the things but maybe it has gone some way to change the balance some. Maybe there is more to shitting on others for your own benefit.

But the world seems to have moved on left me behind. Either it grows tired of me, or I've grown tired of it. There was a time when being a witch was a badge of respect. Something to be feared but time forgot. But eventually men like you and the magi of old all but snuffed it out in jealousy to the point you have forgotten what it was you tried to subdue. So I subdued myself, crawled into a hole for a bit. I tried a different path. Tried to make sure men like you don't succeed. I thought I hated you like hating looking at my own reflection.  But the truth is you are just one of a long never ending line. There is nothing special in what you do and there will always be others ready to take your place. In the end no satisfaction in it. Like everyone else you will die with your bowls loose and running. Perhaps in pain. Perhaps peaceful in your sleep. Maybe a hole in your belly and crying for your mamma.  If lucky you will have some young man bouncing on that small cock of yours while you heart gives out.

But there is something my girl made me realise today. It's something you don't seem to understand and it is why I'll be leaving here well and good and you will be just a dark smudge on the ground.

And here she paused. One of the guards started to chuckle but her tone was of such sincerity they quickly fell silent. Jonas was not smiling now and maybe getting a little angry.

And why is that? The old woman suddenly seemed to grow taller, menacing and predatory. The looks of the men quickly moved from concern to a that of fear and cried in alarm. They recoiled as darkness began to muscle out the sun as if a giant stepping into a crowded tavern - a presence making all others move out the way whether willing or not. The thick darkness hemmed them in and some attempted to flee. Some fired on her but nothing found their mark. To Jonas horror she lifted the boy up with one arm and he shriveled in her grasp, his face now permanently fixed in shock and pain. She casually tossed the dry husk aside and advanced with black gathering around her.

Jonas fell to the ground, gibbering with fear as she now loomed over him. He looked up and saw death and it was deaths turn to smile.

Sometimes, Jonas, bad people are really only good at being one thing.

Fuck him up. Sofia whispered.