Author's note: It's been years since I've posted my writing publically, and I'm a bit nervous about the response. This story is fully written, so I plan to post a new chapter every week. Please let me know what you think - I would love to hear your thoughts, and any constructive criticism.
Link to chapter 2 is at the bottom of the post.
The Black Rose
Chapter 1
by Song W. Eretson
The Callatis city market was in full swing, with merchants haggling and hawking their wares in the streets. A cool breeze from the western sea kept the worst of the early summer heat at bay, so the crowds of people weren't too uncomfortable.
The smells of cosmetics and perfumes mixed with spices and food from the restaurants and food stalls, creating a heady cacophony that could make you lightheaded if you weren't prepared. Commoners and nobles intermingled, shopped, and gossiped. A few people schemed in the shadows, if not right in broad daylight to avoid suspicion.
Just a few minutes earlier Heather had been in the middle of it all, perusing the stalls and enjoying the atmosphere.
But now she was running down an alleyway, with five city guards in hot pursuit.
Ducking down the alley had been a mistake, she realized quickly. She had hoped to lose them. But instead, it had just taken her out of the crowds, where she would have had cover. She was fully exposed as she ran down the empty alley.
Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape route.
She wasn't even in her armor. She wasn't in the market working. She had just been there on personal errands.
Until very recently, it had been safe for her. But safety was a thing of the past for her, apparently.
Not for the first time, she cursed Caspian as she ran.
Up ahead of her she saw an open door into one of the businesses. A couple was pressed against the wall, locked in a deep kiss as they groped at each other and tangled together. At least until Heather jumped onto the step next to them, and they jumped apart in surprise. They were too shocked to make any move to stop her as she ran through the door, and pulled it shut behind her with a resounding slam. Most likely it would just buy her seconds. But those seconds were precious.
She only slowed slightly as she ran past barrels and glass bottles lined up neatly on shelves in the backroom she found herself in. But she paid little attention to them, not letting herself be distracted.
In the doorway, she nearly ran into a young woman who cried out in surprise. Heather felt a twinge of guilt, but kept running. She burst into the front of the shop, surprising a merchant, and the four or five customers gathered there.
An oil and vinegar shop, she realized, finally noticing the strong smell the permeated the air.
Behind her, she heard the guards get the door open, shouting after her. Their armor clattered as they came after her.
Thinking fast, Heather grabbed the counter and vaulted over it. She ignored the startled customers as she ran straight for the door.
When she was out on the street, she was frustrated to find she was nowhere near the heart of the market. She had already been on the edges of the market when the guards saw her. But now she was past the crowds, where the shops gave way to the business offices.
She cursed internally, casting her eyes around for a means of escape. Behind her came the sound of the guards reaching the door, pressing her to keep moving.
A merchant with a heavy crate suddenly turned into her path, and she barely dodged out of the way to avoid him. He cried out, but she barely heard him tell her to watch where she was going.
The call of the guards for someone to grab her was far more concerning.
She ignored the burning in her lungs and pushed herself to run faster. Without a crowd, the scattered people around her became more of a threat than an aide.
Reaching the next corner, she turned down it, relieved to see that there was no one there.
One of the shops caught her attention, seeming to jump out at her. Above the door, a carved wooden sign hung from a wrought iron bar. Intricate knotwork reminiscent of the northern lands framed the words Thorinson's Curiosities and Consultations, painted in black and violet.
Something about it was familiar, though she was sure she had never seen the shop before. And she didn't have time to consider why. With a shaky breath, she decided to take her chances inside.
