Childish Loyalties
an excerpt

Chapter One

Siara Ellis set down her cleaning rag and yawned. Another working day – or more accurately, working night – completed, it was time for her to return home.
“Geth?” she called, leaning on the bar and looking out to where her boss, Geth Barnaby, was sitting with some of his friends. “I’m off now.”
“Righto, love,” replied Geth. Siara smiled. Business had been good to night then.
Truth be told, business was always good at The Ale House. Perhaps the most unimaginatively named pub in Arabis, Siara’s workplace was also the most notorious. Still, the pay was good, and the Barnaby family treated her well. The same couldn’t always be said for their customers, but she was still alive, wasn’t she? Alive, and earning her own money to support herself. And to Siara, that was enough.
“Bye, Anna,” she said to the girl beside her – Anna, Geth’s daughter, was the only other barmaid at The Ale House, and Siara’s closest friend in Arabis. Not that that mean much – Siara had only been in the city for a short while, and her friends were few and far between. Limited, in fact, to the Barnaby family.
With a last wave at Anna, and a friendly wink from Geth, Siara grabbed her coat and went out into the street. The Ale House was on a side street that came up off a main road – all the better, sometimes, for if the bar were in plain view, Geth’s unruly clients would have got him into trouble by now. Siara smiled, thinking of her boss’s red face, growing still redder in times of stress, and the way Anna’s eyes grew brighter when she was nervous.
After a moment, she came out into the wide, open road, and her smile broadened. When she went to work in the late afternoon, this road was so busy she could barely move. Now, though, in the early hours of the morning, there wasn’t a soul in sight. It was chilly, though. Wrapping her coat tightly around her, Siara began to head home.
She liked this time immensely. It was a time for her to be alone, and to think. She was still new to the city, and found its bustling ways hard to adjust to at times. After all, she had bee born in a tiny village in the Rux mountains, which was where she had been brought up by her grandmother, Brina – her mother had died in child birth, and her father had already died before hand, leaving Siara an orphan.
Even then, she had never been alone. Brina had taken good care of her, and she loved her grandmother dearly. Besides, she had had her twin brother with her.
Siarl. She missed him now with a pain so intense it was almost physical, like a blade in her side or a thorn in her heart, that throbbed whenever she stopped to think. Even so, she liked to think of him. It made them closer, somehow. And when she concentrated, she could feel him there – she could feel that he was safe and happy, in the mountains with Brina.
They were linked, in a way. She could tell what he was feeling, but it was only a vague idea – she knew when he was happy, or sad, or angry, but never why.
Of course, she would have preferred that they didn’t have to be apart. But Brina, who had cared for them so well in their childhood, was old and ill now, and it was their turn to care for her. This was why Siarl was there at home, caring for her, while Siara was here, earning money to support them all.
Normally, one would have expected Siarl to go, as he was the ma of the family, and certainly he had wanted to, saying it was dishonourable for him to stay at home, when it was his right to go out into the world, and besides, he would be so much better at it than Siara. This was what had upset her, for Siarl, normally so sensitive to her, so respecting of her feelings, could not understand that even as a girl, she had some worth. This had made her all the more determined to go, and even if she was the girl, she was the fiercer of the two, and she had got her way. They had been angry at one another when she left, but all was forgiven now – they both knew that, without having even seen one another.
Siara had not been walking long when she heard movement. At once she stiffened – no matter how much she liked walking through Arabis at this time of night, there were those who said she was undertaking a dangerous task, and deep down she knew they were right. For right now, she was alone, with no form of defence, and for all she knew, someone was approaching.
Standing still, she turned about in the middle of the road, eyes peeled for the source of the sound. Then, she heard a piercing scream behind her, and for a moment, her heart stopped beating. As soon as she had recovered – and this was only a matter of seconds – she turned and began to run in the direction of the scream.
She skidded to a halt at the bottom of another little alleyway. Cautiously now, she edged up it, her fists clenching as she went. Even if she didn’t have a weapon, but she was sure she could swing a punch or two.
The only light came from the stars above her – the eyes of the dead, gazing down at her – and one of the four moons. She glanced up to see which it was. Obellos, the protector from war. Smiling grimly, she rolled up her sleeves.
In the dingy light, she could make out the outlines of two men, beating a third figure to the ground. In the poor light, it was impossible to see if the victim were male or female. Either way, thought Siara dryly, two on one isn’t fair. Two one two – now that’s more like it. Although one woman and someone almost unconscious against two big men was still hardly fair.
But thinking like that wouldn’t help. She gritted her teeth, and flung herself into the fray.
The short time in which she had been working at The Ale House had taught Siara that anything’s fair in a fight. With this thought in her head, she put everything into her attack – she kicked, bit, scratched – but even as she launched herself, she knew it was hopeless.
Then everything changed. Siara saw, out of the corner of her eye, another figure – someone small and female, with a sword in their hand. She was thrown aside roughly as the new figure joined the attack, and landed with a crash on the dirty ground. Looking up, she was relieved to see that whoever this woman was, she was on Siara’s side. She was also the only one of the fighting figures who was armed. Even so, it was two on one again, and a sword wouldn’t make up for that, even if the new arrival was putting up a good fight.
Siara knew she had to help, but also that, if she tried to engage in the fight, she would get herself, and probably the other woman, into worse trouble. She looked around, hoping for something, anything, she could use as a weapon.
Someone had left a pile of rubbish in the alley, she now spotted. Perhaps there was something there… She crawled over to the pile of junk, and began to rummage through it. There! Her hand gripped tightly onto the handle of a large frying pan. Basic but, she hoped, effective. She pulled it out, and turned back to the fight.
The woman, Siara was delighted to see, had managed to dispense of one of her opponents – he was lying on the ground, clutching his arm, which was bleeding. The other, however, seemed to be presenting more difficulty. They were fighting – this should have been easy for the woman, when she was armed and he was not, but something was holding her back. Siara made a split-second decision.
She raised the frying pan above her head, and, wielding it in both hands, brought it down with a sickening crash on the mans head.
She was not surprised to see that the blow did not render him unconscious. What it did do was make him wheel around to face her. She gulped, suddenly stuck. There was no way she could fight him off.
As it turned out, she didn’t need to. As quickly and naturally as breathing, the other woman stabbed him in the back with her sword. Siara watched in horror as the expression on the man’s face became one of confused surprise, then one of pain, as he keeled over before her, and lay twitching at her feet.
Automatically, she took a step back, pulling up her skirts to prevent them brushing against the man’s body. She lifted her gaze, and watched incredulously as the other woman, as cool as anything, pulled the sword from his back, and wiped the tip clean against his shirt. Lines of blood appeared on his shirt, only to merge with that which seeped from the wounds.
Siara swallowed nervously. “Is he… dead?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Probably,” replied the woman, her face expressionless. “I ran him straight through, that usually does the trick.”
Siara’s eyes widened. “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes.” Then, inexplicably, the woman smiled. “I’m Rona, by the way.”
“Siara,” Siara replied distractedly. She looked the woman up and down – at no point during the fight had she had time to do so. She was small, as she had noted before, with red hair that reached halfway down her back, and green eyes that glittered with life. Siara concluded quickly that this was not someone you told was small to her face. Anyway, she supposed, she wasn’t that tall herself. The woman was also wearing trousers. This wasn’t unheard of – some women, especially those whose work involved a lot of riding, did wear men’s clothes – but it wasn’t common. Still, Siara had more important things to worry about right now.
Suddenly she heard a groan behind her, and spun round. The original victim was lying on the ground, trying to sit up. At once, Siara dropped to her knees beside the figure.
The woman – for Siara’s could now see it was a woman – was quite tall, with thick blonde hair and dark eyes. Siara recognised her at once as an Alanti – the slave-race which served the humans in Arabisia and, as far as Siara knew, the whole of Calitsne. They alone of all the creatures in the world had magic powers, but far from a gift, this was a curse. The Alanti were normally treated as filthy, tainted beings – an opinion even they themselves seemed to share. Siara, however, had never been fully convinced by this view, and was shocked to see that this particular Alanti had been treated so badly. “Are you alright?” she asked.
The Alanti looked at her fearfully. Of course, though Siara bitterly. The Alanti were so used to being scorned by humans, even genuine kindness never seemed to make them calm.
Rona knelt down beside Siara, who looked up at her fiercely. “I think you should know,” she said, her voice still shaking,” that even is this woman is Alanti, she deserves help. So don’t you dare say otherwise.”
“I wasn’t going to,” replied Rona coolly. She looked down at the Alanti. “Now listen, don’t you worry. We’ll see you right.”
Siara looked at Rona with new respect. For someone to be show compassion to an Alanti was almost unheard of – even Anna, who Siara got on with so well, treated them with disdain. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s just most people…”
“I’m not most people.” But now, when Rona looked up, she was smiling again.
“So what do we do.”
“Well, you go home. I’ll sort her out.”
Siara looked at her suspiciously. “Why should I go?”
“Because I know what to do. You don’t. Trust me, though, she’ll be safe with me.”
A groan from behind them interrupted their argument. Siara turned and saw the other man, still lying there, staring at them. She shuddered – she had completely forgotten he was there.
“What are you going to do about him?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the injured man, whose arm was bleeding heavily.
“Nothing.”
Incredulously, Siara turned back to Rona. The little redhead was helping the Alanti woman to stand, supporting her. “We can’t just leave him here! He’s injured!”
“Which is his own fault,” Rona pointed out. “He who shows no mercy sees no mercy.”
“That’s awful!”
“That’s life. If he shouts loud enough, someone will come and help him. If not – well, it’s his own fault. Now come on.”
Siara scrambled to her feet. “Where are you taking her?”
“Where she’ll be safe. I’ll look after her, trust me.”
“Why should I trust you? You’re leaving that man to die!”
“He won’t die.”
“How do you know?”
“The wound’s not that bad.”
They had reached the main road. Siara looked at her new acquaintance. “Now what?”
“I told you. You go home. I’ll look after her. Don’t you trust me?”
Siara looked at her. This woman was unforgiving, she had seen that, but she was honest. “I trust you,” she said simply. “Goodbye then.”
She had turned, and began to walk away, when Rona suddenly called, “Wait.”
She turned back. “What?”
“Siara what?”
“Ellis.”
“And where do you live?”
Siara gave her the address here she lived, and also where she worked. Rona whistled at this.
“You’re brave.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
Rona grinned. “But I knew that already, didn’t I? I guess I forgot to say – well done. You’re a good person, Siara Ellis.”
Siara tried to keep her face serious – she didn’t want Rona to think she approved of her leaving the man. But somehow, she couldn’t help grinning in return. “Thanks, Rona.”
“No problem. I’ll be in touch, by the way. You’re not going to get rid of me easily!”
With a laugh, Siara turned away. “Goodbye, Rona.”
“Goodbye, Siara.”