Rogue Relations

the cliffside kerfuffle

Dagon’s heart raced as he plowed forward, the branches tearing at his cloak. He’d known trying to pull it off in the daytime was a risk, and even though he was in and out before the first alarm sounded, he was not unseen. Emerging from the forest, the sun sat low in the sky and the ocean filled the horizon beyond the cliff.

“You’re surrounded thief.” A voice called out from behind.

Dagon ignored him, peering over the cliff’s edge to the churning waters below. His sleek black leathers hid beneath a dark cloak, now tattered from his hasty escape. Letting out a deep sigh, he drew his sword and dagger, turning to see a man clad in chain-mail that bore the City Guard’s crest of a yellow griffin in flight. Around his right biceps the man wore a blue band of silk telling all he was a captain of the guard.

“Thief. Where?” Dagon answered, looking warily about.

“No games with me, thief.” The captain answered in a stronger voice, his confidence buoyed by a dozen other City Guard who arrived and spread out behind him, pinning Dagon to his ever diminishing sliver of land.

“Do you know who this is?” called out a shrill voice.

“Not now.” Dagon whispered, glancing nervously about. “I’ve got this.”

“Got this?” The voice mocked. “There’s at least a dozen of’em.”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Dagon said in a low voice, taking a small step backwards.

“What was that?” The captain asked with a confused eye.

“What was what?” Dagon said adjusting his grip on his blade like he’d done so many times before, his eyes glancing to the surf on the rocks below.

A muffled voice called out. “Do you know what sea water will do to me?”

“That,” the captain said, pointing the tip of his blade toward Dagon.

“You can’t silence me.” The voice said again as Dagon squeezed the handle of his blade tightly.

The captain twisted his sword nervously in his hand, looking at Dagon. “Is that your sword, talking?” He asked incredulously.

“A sword talk? Are you a loon?” Dagon chuckled, spinning the dagger in his hand, squeezing the handle of his sword even tighter as he flashed it menacingly about.

“The captain’s not a loon.” The shrill voice objected. “Tis I, Edwin the Eviserator and the hand that wields me is none other than Dagon the Dark. He’ll cut all your heads straight off if you take another step.”

Edwin’s words sent a whisper through the Castle Guards, who nervously glanced at one another having heard the rumors bantered about the taverns late at night.

“Stop it.” Dagon scolded as he took a step backward toward the cliff. “You’re not helping.”

“Better than that cliff,” Edwin answered back. “Do you think I have a death wish?”

“Shush.” Dagon said, frustrated at Edwin’s continued interruptions.

“You can’t shush me.” Edwin said indignantly. “I have rights too.”

“It’s right.” The captain agreed, lowering his sword. “You can’t just shush it. Let it speak if it has words to say.” There was a murmuring of agreement from the other guards as they too relaxed, lowering their weapons.

“Thank you my good fellow.” Edwin said in a calm voice. “But I must warn you, if you do take a step closer, he’ll still take your heads clean off—”

Dagon squeezed the pommel, whispering. “That’s enough. Don’t make me sheath you.” He threatened as he stepped back sending some rocks cascading down the cliff, his eyes searching for an escape.

“And then he’ll boot your heads off the cliff, and then he’ll cut your hearts out to give to the hag in the forest who’ll feed on your souls for eternity.” Edwin continued paying Dagon’s threats no mind.

“What hag? That part sounds made up,” said the captain, raising his sword again.

“I don’t recall her name, but she’s the nasty one that eats children.” Edwin said searching some distant memories. “Zela, or something like that.”

“Do you mean Drezela? You’re calling her a hag?” The captain asked in disbelief.

“That’s my mum,” said another of the guards, offended.

“Follow my lead.” The captain chirped, motioning to his fellow guards as they all stepped forward, further constricting Dagon’s freedom.

Dagon responded decisively, taking a step forward for better footing, flashing the blade in warning.

“Well, now you’ve done it.” Edwin said in a resigned voice. “See, I go out of my way to try to save your life and what do I get? Disrespect. Just remember, you did this to yourself.”

The guards hesitated and the captain held out his hand to Dagon. “Just give it back and we’ll let you go.”

“Sorry, that’s not happening.” Dagon said. “But tell your inbred of a King who stole it from him.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be so hasty.” Edwin suggested.

“Enough!” Dagon yelled, hurling the blade off the cliff, hearing Edwin scream the entire way down. A minute later, the point of the blade landed flush in the wood of the ship's deck.

“You’ve no faith,” Dagon quipped to Edwin as he threw himself over the railing, the water from his clothes pooling on the deck of his ship.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” Edwin said indignantly.

“Understood. But we did it.” Dagon said, smiling at the jeweled music box he’d taken from his pouch.

“Well, you could’ve at least told me the plan.” Edwin objected.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” Dagon chided, his grin widening as he spun the key winding up the music box and letting it go.

Edwin stood silent as a haunting melody spun out of the music box casting a luminescent ripple through the ship. One moment the ship was afloat beside the cliff and the next it had disappeared, slipping away to the place only the King’s music box could take it.

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