CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ROSE ( ii. )

Calliope waits in the Night Wagon, her eyes keen and sharp as she takes note of every man that comes through the door, but none so far have been the one she's looking for. Beside her, Arthur munches on bread and cheese, but her gaze never leaves the entry way.

Her plan is simple. Pretend to be someone that has an important information for Drak, and if that doesn't work, she'll just tail this man until he leads her straight to her target and get inside his house or fortress the hard way. No matter what happens during her conversation with the man, she will not go back to Camelot until her mother is safe. Calliope has a dagger tucked away in her cloak just in case things get messy, but she doesn't want to cause a scene in the middle of the tavern.

When the door opens again, a man over six feet steps through. His shoulders are broad and muscular, and he has a long, silver sword strapped to his back that looks like it weighs more than Calliope. His hair is a gray-white, and his eyes are shining ambers that survey each person before him. Soft stubble lines his jaw. He has a strong face and black armor that only makes him seem even more intimidating to those in his path.

The assassin glances to the bar where Ezlyn gives her a subtle nod.

Calliope watches him as he sits at the same table Ezlyn pointed out last night. A tavern maid immediately places ale and a piece of bread before him.

"Let me do the talking," Calliope says as she and Arthur stand from their table. He wants to protest, but he knows this is her realm of expertise. His proper accent alone would give him away to a man like this easily.

Their footsteps fade into the mixing voices and laughter until they stop right at the man's table. He doesn't look up from his piece of bread. He just continues chewing and drinking his ale.

Calliope doesn't hesitate. She sits down across from him and motions for Arthur to do the same.

"Can't a man eat in peace?" His voice rattles her. It's deep and rough and too all-knowing. Like he already knew she was watching him from the moment he came into this tavern.

She clears her throat, "I have something for your boss."

Finally, he lifts his gaze to her face. For a moment, he just stares at her, observing every small detail with an odd familiarity, "My boss."

"Tell Drak that one of his spies has vital secrets about the King's financial affairs, and she's willing to share them for a price."

"And who are you?" The man leans back, his gaze shifting to Arthur. "Why is one of Drak's little birds traveling with the Prince of Camelot?" Her hand is on her dagger before the man can blink and positioned against a very important artery in his leg. The movement doesn't faze him. He takes another sip of his ale. "I'll wager gold that I can tell you exactly why you sat at my table."

"I'll take that wager."

"You're not here to relay information to Drak. You're here to kill him," Calliope tightens her grip on the dagger, pressing it harder against the man's leg. "You came in here asking about him and the tavern maids led you to me. You made sure to sit down before everyone else because you know I come in here the same day every week and meet with different people. If you caught my attention first, I'd be more likely to take you up on your offer," the man glances between the two people in front of him. "So, how'd I do?"

Calliope tosses a gold coin his way with her free hand, "You don't seem too alarmed by my intentions. I'll take up another wager, you want Drak dead as well."

The man throws back the golden coin, "It appears we're even. Anymore guesses?"

"These meetings, they're not in Drak's favor. You're plotting to take him out."

"He runs the entire Underground operation in Mercia," the man finishes his ale. "Including, the slave trade."

"He has someone important to you."

"Something I think we have in common." Calliope pulls the dagger away from his leg. "Now, can we have a proper introduction, or are you going to pull another dagger on me?"

The assassin puts her blade back into her cloak, "I'm Calliope, and you already know who he is."

"Kazimir," he says. "I've been in Finley for a month scouting his fortress. The men I meet with give me information about his dealings with royals and rich merchants. Most people who go missing in Mercia end up sold to him or people in his circle."

Calliope furrows her eyebrows, exchanging a look with Arthur, "I've been trying to get information on the man who bought my mother for ten years. I checked the slave trade in Mercia. I was taken into it once."

"Drak's name isn't known by most. He's like a ghost, overseeing everything from the shadows and always having someone to take the fall for his crimes."

"I gather that since you've been here for a month, his fortress won't be easy to get into," Arthur says.

Kazimir chuckles, "That's one big fucking understatement. He's one of the richest men in the world. He owns the entire town of Tillbrook. It's one big, secret slave camp, and his house is more like a palace."

"Who did they take from you?" Calliope asks.

His face grows more solemn; haunted, "Her name is Dex. She's like a daughter to me."

Inhaling a breath, Calliope nods, "We'll work together then to get them out. Tonight."

"Tonight?" Arthur scoffs. "How the bloody hell do you propose we do that?"

The assassin quirks her lips, "Oh, Arthur, I thought by now you'd learned to stop doubting my abilities."

♛ ♛ ♛

Calliope's plan is absolutely nuts.

But it might work. Might, being the key word. It is far more likely for all three of them to end up dead or in chains, but Calliope won't wait another month to find her mother, or even another day. She's snuck into countless fortresses, towns, and palaces, and there are a few certain ways to always get to your target. From the outskirts of Tillbrook, a massive town she never could have guessed has been a slave camp all these years, she can see guards she always thought were Mercian soldiers skulking about.

Drak's palace is in the center of town with high, steel gates blocking any unwanted intruders. But Calliope does not plan on being an 'unwanted intruder'.

Arthur hates her plan. He's expressed his opinion a multitude of times, but Kazimir thinks it's smart.

Because Calliope has something that Kazimir has lacked this past month: a woman's body, and if it's one thing greedy men never turn away, it's a woman they think can entertain them.

Kazimir will escort her to the gate, claiming to be a merchant with a special present for Drak. Calliope already swiped some clothes hanging by a nearby brothel. She wears an emerald dress with a slit that comes all the way to her upper thigh. The plunging neckline goes well below her breasts, and she pulled her hair back into a braid so nothing would be blocking the view. Arthur paces in the shadows, shaking his head while Kazimir keeps watch for any passing guards.

"Let me be the one to escort you," Arthur says in a desperate tone.

"We can't risk someone in there recognizing you. Kazimir will swipe a key from a guard and let you in the back gate with our weapons. You two will look for Dex, and I'll find my mother."

"Once you're alone with Drak," Arthur puts his hands on her shoulders. "What if he..."

Calliope has her sharp hair pin concealed in her braid. It's enough to slice right through Drak's throat, "I'll be fine, Arthur."

The Prince steps closer, motioning to the crouched warrior at the edge of the alley as Kazimir memorizes the patterns of patrols flanking around the town.

"I don't trust him," he says in a whisper.

"I don't either, but we have a common goal, and that's enough." Still seeing immense worry present in Arthur's eyes, Calliope brings her hand up to cup his cheek. "This plan will work." Arthur's hand covers her own, warm and comforting.

"We need to move," Kazimir stands, turning to the two of them as Arthur drops his hand.

The Prince's gaze falls on the tall man, "If you do anything to her—"

"I think your girlfriend can take care of herself," Kazimir replies as he hands the Prince his sword. "But I'll watch her back. You have my word."

All Calliope has time for is one last glance in Arthur's direction, and then, she's pulled into the moonlight, Kazimir's hand grasping her arm.

The towering, steel gates are imposing. Even taller than the gates around Camelot. Four guards stand watch, long spears grasped in their hands, posing as soldiers as they sit under the thumb of one of the richest slave traders in the entire realm. As soon as they spot the two people coming near the gates, the tips of the spears are pointed out, ready to strike.

Nerves ignite in Calliope's stomach at the thought of being brought to Drak's personal quarters like this, but it will only give her the perfect opportunity to question him and kill him without witnesses.

If her mother is truly here, anyone trying to stop Calliope will be dead before they can even pray for mercy.

"Stop right there," One guard commands, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

"Just a simple merchant wanting to thank Drak for his services," Kazimir motions to the blonde at his arm, and she smiles wickedly at the guards who let their eyes graze over her exposed body. "I know how much he loves the blonde ones."

The guard grins, stopping in front of Calliope and stroking her side. She fights against the urge to recoil and bury her hairpin in his face, "Perhaps he'll pass her around." The guard lets her go and turns to the others. "Let them through."

Relief washes through her as the first faze of her plan works.

As the gates open, she is met with Drak's fortress. It's wide with three stories and made of pure marble. The windows are tall, and the two double doors have another set of guards keeping watch. In the center of the grounds is a quartz fountain with clear water falling from an angel with a water basin. Everything about the fortress seems pure, a stark contrast to what really goes on within these lavish walls.

The slaves are kept in an underground prison at night, unless they were handpicked by Drak to serve him personally. During the day, they engage in hard labors throughout the city from dawn until dusk without a break. They keep the city running while Drak enjoys the exploits.

Inside is a lit foyer with checkered tiles and various artworks lining the walls. Two spiral staircases face each other leading to the second story. Women walk past her, and from their revealing clothing, she knows they're here to entertain Drak's most high-ranking men for the night. They don't pay her much notice, assuming she's just like them: an unfortunate girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Another guard appears in the hallway, but his helmet is off, revealing his ginger hair and pale skin, "I'll take her from here."

Kazimir's grip tightens, "I want to deliver her myself so Drak knows who the gift is from."

"I'll make sure to inform him."

She sees the clench in Kazimir's jaw, but Calliope steps away, reassurance in her blue eyes. Kazimir tries to appear nonchalant, but his eyes never leave her as she is led up the left stairwell and into the unknown.

♛ ♛ ♛

Prince Arthur can only wait.

Concealed by a tall hedge, he watches for Kazimir to appear near the back gate, his large sword and Calliope's slung around Arthur's shoulder with his own blade. When he insisted on coming with her to Mercia, he never imagined they'd be led here. Tillbrook is a place he's heard of many times, but he was always told a wealthy merchant inhabited the gated fortress and watched over the city as a trusted advisor to the King. Little did he know, the whole town is part of the slave trade.

When the guard by the gate goes down silently, his neck slashed in a clean line, Arthur knows Kazimir is coming for him. The body is dragged and hidden in a nearby bush before the sound of the lock clicking echoes through the night. Kazimir holds up a tiny dagger before pushing the gate open.

"A gift from Calliope."

"Where is she?"

"A guard took her to Drak's quarters," Arthur curses under his breath. He has a bad feeling about her plan. "She knows what she's doing."

"I know but..." Arthur scans their surroundings. "This is personal for her."

He has seen first hand what Calliope is capable of when things are personal.

And he won't be surprised if every man in this fortress is dead before sunrise.

♛ ♛ ♛

The room is suffocating.

So many surfaces are plated in gold or silver, and the bed could probably fit eight people. It has bathing and dressing areas attached to it along with a door that leads to a circular balcony. Calliope walks to the door and tries the handle. Locked. But she could pick it with her hairpin if she needs a quick escape.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway cause her heart to start pounding in her ears. She's about the face the man she's been searching ten years for. It will take all her strength not to unleash herself onto him immediately, enacting a slow, torturous death fit for a punishment in hell. When the handle turns, she takes a deep breath, channeling every nerve of restraint in her bones.

Drak stands before her. He appears to be in his mid-fifties. His hair is short and gray. His eyes are black pools that cause the hair on the back of her neck to rise. He has a scar around his left eye, some kind of burn mark, and it only makes her feel even more uneasy in his presence.

He steps further into the room. Her stomach churns, and her fingers twitch, aching for a blade.

Calliope's mind is telling her to kill him before he can take another step, but she can't until she's sure her mother is here. She has to be smart, not reckless.

So as the door shuts, Calliope only smiles innocently.

"What's your name?" His voice sends a chill down her spine, like spiders crawling down her back.

"Victoria," Calliope says with a sly grin.

"Well, Victoria," he steps closer, and she controls her hand from shooting to her hairpin, "I must say, I am very pleased with my gift, but let's just get to why you're really here," his eyes land on her breasts, and as she braces for his hands on her, he says, "You came for Rose." As the last syllable leaves his lips, she feels something sharp puncture her side. Gasping, she looks down and sees a knife below her right rib. "My wife will be happy to see you."

It's the last words she hears before something hard hits her head.

Then, everything fades.

♛ ♛ ♛

They've looked through fifty cells, and yet, no sign of the girl Kazimir wants to rescue. Arthur has never seen so many slaves in one place, some no older than four or five. It twists his stomach in a terrible way, and he begins to think of a plan to get everyone out. Maybe once Calliope has killed Drak...

"Kaz!"

The prince stops when he hears a feminine voice call out to them. Kazimir's head whips around, and Arthur spots a girl gripping the metal bars of her cell, her dark eyes covered in relief.

Kazimir pounds the handle of his sword against the lock. It falls away, and the door is pushed open. The girl, Dex, rushes through and throws herself into his arms.

"I knew you'd come."

Kazimir kisses her forehead before handing her a knife, "Come on. We have to hurry."

Arthur grabs his arm, "We have to find Cal. She was supposed to be down here by now. Something's wrong—I know it." Kazimir shoots a glance to Dex. "If you two want to escape now, that's fine, but I'm not leaving this place without her."

The Prince starts to walk away, but Kazimir stops him, "I will help you. I gave you my word."

That's all he needs to hear. As they step over the fallen guards, Arthur doesn't forget about the rest of the slaves that need to be freed. Moving so many people from Tillbrook will take time and resources, but once Drak is dead, Arthur will use Camelot's alliance with Mercia to convince the King to turn it into an actual town, or let all the residents move. If his father doesn't approve, he'll do it himself.

He will make a better world. His promises to Calliope are only the beginning.

♛ ♛ ♛

Blurring lights, the steely smell of blood mixed with sweat, cool droplets of water hitting her cheek—everything is a mixing pool of confusion. Her conscious drifts until she feels herself being placed in a chair, her hands bound by tough ropes on both sides, but she can barely feel anything except the gut-wrenching pain in her right side. Drak left the knife in, no doubt to be used as a threat later. If he pulled it out, he'd let her bleed out slowly so he could watch the last fractions of life drift away from her body.

My wife will be happy to see you.

Calliope's eyes snap open, and she lifts her head. The lighting is dim, and the room is empty except for a table with various knives of different sizes laid out. How did he know who she is?

Kazimir. Had this all been a trap? He really is one of Drak's men, and he lured her here? She wants to punch herself for falling right into his game. Her blood goes cold when she realizes Arthur is with him.

The door creaks open, but she can't look over her shoulder to see who enters.

"I bet you're wondering how I knew about your little plan," Drak comes into her vision, leaning down to her eye level. "The truth is...I've been ready for you for months. You see, one of my old friends warned me about the Red Dragon and how he had sold me her mother, and she would hunt me down blah, blah, blah."

"Sepharin." That son of a bitch.

"I have eyes everywhere, including the Night Wagon. I mean, honestly, for someone in your trade, how could you fall right into it? I'm kind of...underwhelmed."

"And Kazimir?" She's barely able to ask.

His eyebrows pinch, "Oh, that large man you came here with? He's nothing more than a thorn in my side, putting his nose where it doesn't belong. Hopefully, my guards have killed him by now, along with the Prince." Calliope doesn't have the strength to fight back. A tear cascades down her cheek. "Oh, I have one more surprise for you, and I think you'll really like it. Come dear!"

The door opens again.

Calliope can't withhold her sob. There, right in front of her...is her mother.

Her face is downcast as she observes the assassin, weathered by years of sorrow. Her once sleek, black hair is now spotted with gray, and she's skinny, so, so skinny, like she never gets a proper meal.

Then Calliope's eyes fall to the two young children at her hip. They have her eyes , but also...some of Drak's features. No, no, no, no.

"M-Mom?" Calliope chokes out.

"Calli," More tears roll down her face. Calliope never thought she'd hear that voice again.

Drak holds onto his wife's arm, "Isn't this such a lovely family reunion? And aren't you so proud of your daughter, Rose? I mean, she has as many kills under her belt as a fucking army." Drak looks to her. "Your brutality is truly legendary."

There doesn't seem to be any way to escape except through the one door in the room, no doubt guarded by armed men. If Calliope could get a hand free, she could reach her hairpin, but her energy is falling away. The blow to her head makes her see stars, and the knife in her side causes any movement to be excruciating. I can get through this. But she's fading again. In and out of her body, like this isn't real.

"Perhaps you'll find out," Calliope manages.

He barks out laughter, "You're so funny. No, let me tell you what's about to happen, assassin, you are going to agree to work for me, to kill whoever I tell you whenever I tell you, or..." His hand grips the edge of the dagger. He twists it, her insides clenching, blood pouring from the wound, and she bites down on her lip so hard it cracks open. "I'm going to pull this out, and let you bleed to death while you watch me carve into your mother."

As he releases his pressure on the dagger, Calliope gasps. Her consciousness threatens to snap away again. She can barely hang on.

Drak leans down, putting his hand on her shoulder, "I'll give you a minute to think it over. My guards will escort you to me once you've made up your mind."

His footsteps echo against the floor until they disappear into the hallway. Calliope is left alone in the room...with her mother. So unrecognizable in her thin, red dress and golden jewelry. Her wrists are scarred from years in chains. Marks cover her exposed chest and back in the shape of a whip. Calliope feels more tears building.

"Mom, I'm—I'm so sorry," she says, closing her eyes. "I couldn't save you, or Dad, or anyone, and I let my anger turn me into a monster."

Fabric rustles, and then, the assassin feels her mother leaning down, taking her face in her calloused hands. Finally, she opens her eyes, and for the first time, sees the woman who raised her within those kind, jade-colored eyes.

"You could never be a monster, Calliope," her voice is gentle and calming. "You've done what you needed to in order to survive, just like me."

"Drak," she shakes her head. "He forced you to marry him? To—to have his children?"

"Drak has many wives and children, but we're all still slaves to him." Rose brushes a stray strand of Calliope's icy hair behind her ear. "I never thought I'd see you again. My only daughter, I've thought of you every single day since I was taken." Her grip becomes fiercer, her eyes glinting with found strength. "You're strong, Calli. Stronger than me or your father."

Calliope shakes her head, "No, I'm not. The truth is, I'm terrified. I'm always terrified. There's something inside of me that I don't understand, and it scares the hell out of me."

"Embrace it," Rose says, a faint smile on her lips. "Embrace the power inside of you. It's the only way to become what you're meant to be."

"But—"

"There's no time for more questions," Her mothers begins untying the ropes. "I've made peace with my life. I have children here I cannot abandon, but you can still escape."

Once Calliope has a hand free, she stops her mother from untying the other one, "No, I won't leave you here with him. We'll get all of you out—"

"When Drak is dead there will be an opportunity for everyone to fight for our escape, but we won't all make it," her mother squeezes her hand. "I have to help the others. There's too many women and children that will need me. This is my purpose, and yours is to go back to Camelot. It's where you belong now."

A few more tears slide down her cheeks, "I belong with you."

When her other hand is free, Rose embraces her daughter, careful to not touch her wound. Then, as she pulls away, Calliope's eyes widen. Her mother yanks the dagger out, and before Calliope can utter one word, her entire body goes still.

"Ahlúttre þá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd."

Her mother's eyes glow a soft amber.

Calliope's wound begins to heal. Her pupils are still wide, shocked.

"You have magic."

♛ ♛ ♛

The three guards in the hallway shift their feet. One stifles a yawn. The corridor is silent except for the distant roars of laughter and drunken festivities of Drak's indulgences. The girl inside the door behind them is on the edge of death, so they let their grips on their weapons falter, their shoulders relaxing.

When the door creaks open, they turn their heads to see one of Drak's wives exiting the room. One guard peers inside, his breath hitching when the lone chair is empty, covered in crimson blood.

"Hey!" He turns his head, but the woman is no where in sight.

"What's wrong?"

"The girl, she's gone."

"How is that possible? We've been standing here the whole time!"

"I saw you nod off!"

Someone clears their throat. It wasn't one of the three guards.

There she stands, the Red Dragon. She raises a hand, "Gentlemen, I think I can settle this argument."

The first guard swings his sword. Calliope ducks, all too effortlessly, and pulls out her hairpin in one motion, embedding it in the soft skin exposed below his helmet.

His sword is her own now, and she buries it in another's guard stomach, yanking it out to meet the weapon of the last guard standing. She parries another blow, and then spins, knocking the hilt of her sword against his helmet, right underneath his chin, so the armor flies off and clatters against the floor.

A shocked gasp is all that can escape his lips as she jams her weapon into his throat.

Calliope winces, steading herself against the wall, her hand covering the wound. The spell won't hold out long since she has to fight her way through guards to escape. All Rose could do with their small amount of time together was slow the bleeding. She would need other herbs and tonics to heal it completely, and they couldn't risk it.

The assassin grips the sword in her hand, and pushes herself off the wall.

The shadows swallow her as she lingers near the edge of the hallway. She knows what she must do.

Once the path is clear, she darts across the corridor and finds herself standing near the foyer again. A large archway leads to the room where all the commotion is coming from, but two guards stand their post. Calliope peers through the darkness. Inside the room, there appears to be several tables filled with men. The head table is where Drak sits, two completely nude women on his lap. A celebration. They think they've captured the Red Dragon. If only they knew the truth; that they had simply awoken a sleeping predator.

Calliope weighs her options, and makes a swift decision.

The assassin knocks her fist against the wall, catching the attention of the two guards, and then she darts into a nearby room.

She listens to their approaching footsteps, controlling her heavy breathing.

"You heard that right?"

"Yeah, someone was over here—"

Her sword is in his back before he can finish the sentence, and the other man doesn't even have time to shout.

She drags their bodies into the room and locks it from the inside.

Calliope has nothing in her way now. She walks into the light. Across the path that leads into the gathering room, and into the belly of the beast.

She knows she's been spotted when every string of laughter stills in the air. Her once emerald dress is permanently stained in crimson, and blood from the sword in her hand drips onto the floor. In her eyes is pure fury.

The assassin begins walking down the parted sea of standing guards, all of them unsheathing their weapons, but none will move until the command comes from their boss. Drak urges the women on his lap to move as he gets to his feet, amusement on his face.

"Now, this is more like it," he announces. "This is the assassin I was promised." Calliope stops at the stairs that lead to his table. One of the guards close by starts to move towards her, but Drak holds up his hand to stop him. "Have you come to a decision?"

"I have," she says. "I have decided to give you a choice. Face me in a duel, just you and me. If I win, every slave in this fortress will be freed, my mother included. If you win, I'll agree to work for you."

"Why the fuck would I face a trained killer in a duel?"

"Because the other option is," Calliope grips her sword, "I will cut through any man who stands between us until this fortress is a bloody wasteland, and when I finally get to you, I will carve into you until you beg for the devil himself instead."

Drak ponders her words, "I think it would be more fair for you to fight a champion of my choosing. I am an old man and stand no chance against a young assassin like yourself. Besides, if you are as good as you claim, it shouldn't matter who you fight, am I right?"

Calliope clenches her fists, and then, she sees movement towards the back of the room. Disguised in guard uniforms, Arthur, Kazimir, and a girl around her age watch her from a nearby table.

Smirking, the assassin turns back to Drak, "Pick your best fighter. I can kill anyone."

♛ ♛ ♛

i didn't want to drag this out to three chapters, but if I included the duel and the stuff that happens after, this chapter would be over 7,000 words, so i decided to stop here.

anyways, remember to vote and leave your thoughts in the comments :)