Read Passion of the Liger: Volume 2 Page 3


  There was total silence.

  Lena looked at the man standing before her. Physically he looked like the man she remembered. The strong, brave, honest Anton. The man you could always depend on. Now as she looked at him, she saw that he was different. He seemed broken, vulnerable, desperate and weak.

  "Leave," she said quietly.

  "Lena," said Anton, "Please, I need your help."

  "Leave," she repeated more firmly, "I will not help you. Leave my tavern and never return. You are not welcome here. You abandoned my friend and left her to die." She looked him in the eyes and said, "The next time we meet, we shall be less than strangers."

  Anton got down onto his hands and knees.

  Lena could tell by the way he did it, this man was not accustomed to begging.

  "Please, Lena," said Anton, "Help me get to Maruska. My wife's life depends on it."

  Lena could not believe her ears. She was struggling before, but this really pushed her over the edge.

  "Your wife?" said Lena, "You got married to somebody else? You left Maruska to die, and the reason we never saw you again was because you went and got married?"

  Anton just kept staring at the ground.

  Lena wasn't done yet. Two decades of bottled up anger at this man all resurfaced at once. "Maruska would have died for you. She loved you! You broke her heart. You didn't see her after she recovered from the poison. She kept saying 'Something must have happened to Anton. I have to go find him!'. After years, even she gave up hope. She wanted to kill herself! Maruska is alive now, but the Maruska we all knew and loved died years ago. And it's your fault!"

  Lena was furious. She was normally quite a calm person but she was spewing forth such venom at Anton. She took some deep breaths to calm herself down.

  Anton said nothing. He just stayed kneeling before her and looking down at the ground.

  "I didn't mean to hurt her," he said quietly.

  Lena just looked at him. He had just taken her verbal barrage without even flinching. He wasn't completely weak.

  People make mistakes, said a voice inside her head, We all do.

  Lena took in a deep breath and when she exhaled, she blew out a lot of the anger from her system.

  "Ma'am?"

  Lena looked up at the stairs. Penelope was standing there.

  "What is it, Penelope?" said Lena.

  "It's the Royal guards. The Conquistador actually. He's looking for a man in red robes," said Penelope, "What should I tell him?"

  Lena looked back at Anton. Memories from the past came flooding back to her. Memories of the times when Anton had been like a big brother to her. He had always looked after her.

  This man kneeling before her now, she didn't know if he was the same man anymore. But he looked like Anton DiManlen, her friend. And for that reason alone, she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

  "Tell him that we have seen no such man," said Lena.

  Penelope glanced at the man kneeling there in the red robes and nodded, then vanished upstairs.

  "Thank you," said Anton.

  "Don't thank me yet," said Lena, "I am still undecided."

  She began to head upstairs, leaving Anton alone in the cellar. Before she reached the top, she turned and said to him, "If I was you, I would pull that torch in the corner."

  Chapter 8

  Maruska lay in her bed. She had been laying there practically all day, feeling wretched, despondent and whatever other bad feeling you can think of. For so long now, all she had thought about was finding Anton, confronting him--and if need be--hurt him for leaving her. And now she had done all that, and she didn’t feel any better; in fact she felt worse. She'd known all along what she'd done was wrong, but like someone running down a steep hill, once she started, she couldn’t stop. She wanted to hurt the man that had hurt her.

  Maruska closed her eyes. A single tear dripped out of the corner and trickled down towards her ear; she didn’t even bother to wipe it away.

  Right now, she just wanted to sink into her bed and vanish.

  Her life was a mess, and sadly, she knew the only person to blame was herself. So many years filled with bitterness, anger and hatred.

  Half her life wasted.

  The friends she had grown up with, probably all had families, little children. Even the man she loved had a beautiful wife.

  And what did she have? Maruska had no one. All she had was twenty years worth of sad memories.

  No more.

  Maruska opened her eyes. She heard a whispering.

  No more. It stops today.

  It was coming from inside of her. Amid all the heavy, dark thoughts that filled her mind, was a pure, clear voice.

  Today it ends. Today you start your new life.

  Maruska didn’t move a muscle. She ignored everything else and just focussed on this voice.

  Every step you take from now on, will be towards a brighter future. It is the way to a charmed life.

  Maruska’s gut and instinct latched onto what the voice had said. She knew it was right. She had no idea where the voice came from, but she didn’t question it. She wiped away the tear that had dripped down to her ear.

  Yes, thought Maruska to herself, I will not waste another day of my life. Forget about Anton and everything in the past. A bright future is all I care about.

  She sat up and swung her legs over to the side of the bed. She paused. This was the moment. She could either lie back down and wallow in self pity, or she could stand up and immediately begin to fix her life.

  Maruska stood up.

  And then a feeling flowed through her; a feeling she had not felt in a very long time.

  It was hope.

  ***

  King Bastion skewered the shrimp on his fork and was about to put it into his mouth when-

  “Your Highness!”

  It was Lancaster, the oldest and most loyal servant of the royal household.

  “What is it, Lancaster?” said the King, a little grumpy as he was interrupted mid-bite.

  “’Tis Lady Maruska, she requests permission to speak to you.”

  The King nearly choked when he heard this. The one person he would drop anything for. Literally. He put his shrimp back down on the plate (which just showed how much he thought of Maruska. Because he was quite a big fan of shrimp).

  “Oh, yes of course!” said Bastion, “Ask her to come in immediately!”

  The King picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, and ran his fingers through his whiskers and beard a few times to straighten it out.

  Lancaster bowed deeply and left the room. Moments later, in walked Maruska. Bastion thought she looked particularly stunning this evening.

  She approached the king and bowed her head respectfully.

  “I am sorry to interrupt your dinner, Your Highness, but I have something I need to tell you. I could not bear to wait and leave it any later.”

  Bastion gulped. This is it, he thought to himself. After twenty years she has finally caved in to my manly charm and going to tell me that she loves me. I knew my method of slowly chipping away at a woman’s resistance would pay off.

  “Bastion,” said Maruska, “I came here to thank you personally, for all that you have done for me.”

  She’s going to thank me personally, thought the King, Wow. I really would prefer somewhere more private, but well then, let’s not be too fussy.

  “I’m leaving Bastion,” said Maruska, “I plan to leave the castle tonight. You probably will never see me again. I just wanted to say thank you for all that you have done for me. I will never be able to repay you, but just know that I am eternally grateful.”

  Hmm, my stomach is still full, thought Bastion, And I probably should go close the door, I wouldn’t want any of the servants inter- WHAT DID SHE SAY?

  “Excuse me?” said Bastion.

  “I am leaving Castle Aerie, Bastion,” said Maruska.

  “But why?” said the King,
“Are you not happy here? I can provide everything that you need! I am the King!”

  “I have thought much about this for the past few days,” said Maruska, “And I must do this, for myself. I want to go away. Somewhere far away, somewhere that doesn’t remind me of my past, or the choices that I’ve made. I want to start over. I fear that I have wasted my life. I don’t want to waste another day. Please understand, Bastion. I must leave.”

  “But, where will you go? Will I ever see you again?” said Bastion.

  “I don’t know where I will go,” said Maruska, “And perhaps we may encounter one another in the future, but my heart tells me this may be our final meeting.”

  “Final meeting?” said the King, “No! You can’t. I won’t allow it.”

  “I have made up my mind,” said Maruska, “Goodbye, my liege.” She curtsied and then turned to leave.

  “Stop!” he said, “As King of Tuscan, I order you to stop.”

  Maruska stopped but did not turn around. “That is not an order you can make."

  "Maruska, I love you," blurted out the King, "I will do anything if you would stay. Do you want to be the Queen? Stay and marry me, and be the Queen of Tuscan."

  Maruska was silent for a moment. Then she turned around, stepped in close to Bastion and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  The King nearly fainted. All these years he had waited to feel her lips on his skin. She was so close he could smell her lovely perfume; it was intoxicating.

  "Bastion," said Maruska, "I will always think fondly of you. But I do not love you, in the way that you want me to love you. I would not make a good wife, nor a good Queen. Farewell, my King. I will remember you fondly.”

  And with that she left the room, leaving the King standing there alone.

  Bastion stood there, motionless, just breathing; he didn't want to leave that spot, because the air still smelled of his beloved, and that was all that he had left of her.

  Chapter 9

  Those eyes.

  Those piercing green eyes, that seemed to sparkle. Women generally swooned whenever he set his gaze on them. He could probably melt butter, or more realistically, hearts with those eyes.

  But Lena was not swooning or melting at the moment. She was just trying her best to act natural. And as anyone who has ever tried to act natural can tell you, it is a hard thing to do when you are trying.

  “So tell me, Madam Barkeep,” said the Conquistador, the owner of the green eyes, “Have you perchance seen a stranger enter your tavern tonight? He was wearing a red cloak.”

  Those eyes bored straight into her. His gaze was so intense she became hot and flustered. She wanted to look away, but couldn't. It was like she was being hypnotised. She felt like he was drawing out her soul just by looking at her. Like he had locked onto her somehow and could make her do his bidding. She felt a strong urge to tell him all he wanted to know. She opened her mouth to speak--to tell him Anton was downstairs--but stopped herself, using all the restraint she had.

  Then slowly and deliberately, she replied.

  "No. I have not."

  There was silence. Everyone in the tavern had stopped talking and was listening in.

  Lena looked up, and the Conquistador was still staring at her. His eyes were overwhelming, like twin emerald suns burning into her.

  "Are you certain?" he said.

  Lena knew that he was looking for signs that she was lying. She felt her face get hotter. Her whole body felt like it was heating up.

  "I am certain," she said firmly.

  The Conquistador said nothing. Finally, he smiled and said, "Very well then. Please do look out for this man. Report to the Royal Guard if you see or hear anything."

  "I will," said Lena.

  The Conquistador nodded at the soldiers who had accompanied him, and turned to leave. But before he did, he said one final thing to Lena.

  "I would like you know that anyone found aiding this stranger, or hiding his whereabouts, will be deemed an enemy of the King, and will be punished accordingly. Farewell, Madame Barkeep."

  He and the soldiers left the tavern.

  And everybody sighed with relief.

  Lena went over to a spare chair and sat down. That had been intense! Curse that fool Anton for coming back and putting her in this situation! And she was still mad at him!

  Penelope, the waitress, came over and said, "Are you alright, ma'am?"

  "I'm okay," said Lena, "I'm just glad they're gone. And that nobody in here blurted out anything about my friend."

  "That man in the red robes is your friend?" said Penelope.

  The word had slipped out of Lena's mouth without her even thinking about it. She pondered it for a while and then said, "I hate him at the moment, but yes, he is my friend."

  Penelope had a curious look on her face, as if she was thinking about something, but Lena didn't notice, she was too busy being relieved.

  "Free drinks for everyone all night!" Lena shouted suddenly, "For being such a good crowd!"

  The jolly patrons of the tavern all cheered.

  Lena turned to Penelope and said, "I need to go find my husband. Can you look after the tavern while I am gone?"

  'Yes'm," said Penelope.

  "Great," said Lena smiling and getting up, "Mr. Straud will be over the moon to see that oaf I have downstairs." She went behind the bar and grabbed her sword and then left the tavern.

  Penelope just stood there watching her boss leave, and continued to stand there for a fair while afterwards. She was currently mulling something over in her head, and in two minds about what to do next. Her heart wanted to do one thing, but her head, which always had been the much louder voice, wanted to do something else.

  Penelope sighed.

  She really had grown to love this tavern and her boss Lena.

  It was times like these that she wished that she wasn't a spy working for the King.

  Chapter 10

  Along the northern wall of the Encumbered Adventurer Tavern was a dark alleyway. It was narrow; probably wide enough for two men to walk abreast. Somewhere in the blackness, a man lay tucked underneath a mound of thick, coarse blankets. He had wedged himself into the corner, between the wall and the ground, to help keep warm. Even after years sleeping on the streets of Firgenduke, he still liked to feel as snug as possible.

  The name of this hobo (or vagabond, as he preferred to call himself) was "Four-tooth". The nickname was given to him by the locals, as he only had four teeth. Three on the top and one on the bottom. Well he used to have four teeth; sadly he'd lost a tooth earlier in the year biting into a scrumptious greenfeld apple and now only three remained; two at the top and one at the bottom. People still called him Four-tooth though, because it rolled off the tongue better.

  A few years back, Four-tooth was quite the nomad; travelling wherever he pleased, sleeping wherever he liked. This night under a bridge, that night on the rooftop of some tall building, overlooking the city.

  It all changed though, one night four years ago, when by chance he came upon a tavern called the Encumbered Adventurer. He spotted a woman on the ground outside the tavern, sitting with her back against the wall, smiling, and looking rather pleased with herself.

  Four-tooth became so curious he just had to ask:

  "Begging your pardon, milady, but what are you so happy about?"

  "When I was younger," replied the woman, "All I wanted was to own a tavern and be married to a good man. And now, I just became owner of this tavern. I love this location, I love the patrons, I love everything about it."

  "And a good man did you find?" Four-tooth had asked.

  "Aye," she smiled, "He's alright."

  After living on the streets for so long, Four-tooth had become well aware of different types of people. Some were disgusted by him, looking upon him with disdain, crossing the road when he was near. A few openly abused him, shooing him away like he was a rat. The majority didn't even see him
, waking past him like he was invisible. But then every now and then, a person would come along, like a sunny day during winter, like the sultanas in a bowl of cereal. These rare people seemed to him to be almost glowing from within and with an energy about them that put him at ease. They spoke to Four-tooth the hobo as equals, with absolute sincerity. This woman was one of them, and he liked her immediately.

  "I'm Lena Straud," said the woman.

  "They call me Four-tooth," and he grinned to show her why.

  They spoke for hours that first night. He honestly couldn't remember what they talked about, but he remembered it was good. He remebered at one point, the delicious aroma of food from within the tavern came wafting past his nose, and he couldn't help but take in a longing sniff. Lena immediately went inside the tavern without a word, coming out later carrying a bowling of warm soup and a hunk of fresh bread. Four-tooth was not very knowledgeable about food, so he didn't know what type of soup it was, but he remembered it tasted like heaven and he devoured every last drop.

  "It's good to cook and see someone enjoying it so much," Lena had said, chuckling.

  Later in the night, Lena asked if Four-tooth would like to stay the night inside the tavern, out of the cold, but Four-tooth had flatly refused. Even a homeless person can have their pride. He didn't want to owe anyone anything.

  Instead he chose the alleyway next to the tavern. The plan was to sleep there and go somewhere else the next day. But sleeping there that first night, Four-tooth felt something he had not felt in a long time. In that cold, dark alleyway, with the big warm tavern next to him, it reminded him of being four years old again, sleeping in a room with your parents in the room next to yours. It was comforting.

  After so many years living alone by himself, Four-tooth finally felt like he had come home.

  Practically every night for the next four years, Four-tooth had slept in that alleyway. And tonight was no different.

  He wedged himself closer to the wall and pulled the blankets in tigher around him. Very soon, he would be asleep, floating in the lovely land of dreams...

  "The albatross is in the Eagles nest," said a woman's voice.

  Four-tooth's eyes opened. Two people were talking in the street nearby.

  "I repeat, the albatross is in the Eagle's nest," said the woman once again. Four-tooth knew this voice. It was Penelope, one of the waittresses from the Encumbered Adventurer.