II - The Price of Freedom

Bells rang through the city streets as the morning sun crept over red-tiled roofs, casting the marketplace in a warm glow

Raymund pushed his cart over the cobblestones and set up his folding stall, along with two small tables.

Soon, fresh, clean fabrics lay neatly folded across the stall, shimmering in the sunlight.

“Splendid,” he said with a satisfied smile, folding his arms as he stood beside the stall.

It wasn’t long, however, before he noticed the looks from the local merchants, who began setting up their own stalls as well.

“Ho, you there. I’ve not seen you here before. Who might you be? To which guild do you belong?”

“I am a travelling merchant” he replied, dryly.

A neighboring stallholder had overheard and stepped closer.

“A travelling merchant? And the Arte has sanctioned this?”

“Well…”

“We shall see about that. I’ll fetch the ufficiale del mercato at once!”

By the time the market officer arrived, a small knot of agitated traders had already gathered before the stall.

“Make way!” cried the stout official in his red-and-green tunic, the city’s crest sewn upon it.

He scrutinized Raymund closely.

“You are this travelling merchant then? Have you paid your duties upon entering the city?”

Raymund nodded and drew forth a crumpled scrap of parchment, which he handed over.

“And your market license?” the man pressed sharply after examining it.

“But… I have paid the duty,” Raymund replied, perplexed.

The officer sighed, and among the merchants there spread a murmur of relief mingled with amusement.

Raymund cast them a murderous glance when one laughed outright.

“Very well, you have paid the duty. That grants you leave to bring goods into the city, not to sell them. For that, you require a market license.”

“But...”

“The goods shall be confiscated until further notice. Once you have paid the fine, they shall be returned to you, and you may quit the city.”

“Quit? But I intend to sell!”

“Then you must apply to the cloth merchants’ guild, the Arte della Lana.” He looked him up and down. “Though, in the state you are in, I should judge your chances… slight. Pay your due, and be gone.”

Raymund ground his teeth.

That damned, bloated...

Helplessly, he had to watch as the guards seized his goods and carried them off under the mocking gazes of the other merchants.

“Stronzo...“ someone whispered.

His hand slid to the hilt of the dagger hidden behind his belt.

They shall pay for this…

The officer continued speaking, telling him where to appear the next day to pay the fine, but Raymund barely listened anymore.

The merchants’ laughter stretched on.

His gaze drifted over their faces, their soft, unprotected necks.

I could cut them.

I should cut them.

His fingers twitched lightly.

Then the sounds and voices of the marketplace returned.

“…shall stay in the guild's storehouse until you have paid the fine on the morrow...”

Raymund blinked, exhaled slowly, and let go of the hilt.

No. Not here. Not now.

With a burning gaze, he finally turned and left the open marketplace.

He followed the street back toward the city gates, where a narrow alley led him to his lodging.

When he entered, the room was steeped in dim light, and most guests were still out and about.

At the rear was the common chamber where they were staying.

The air was stuffy and filled with sharp, unpleasant smells.

No beds lined the room, only ten straw-filled mats, and only one was occupied.

In the far corner lay an emaciated body, its arms folded, turned toward the wall. Flies buzzed around it.

Raymund sighed.

“Melusine!”

At first, nothing stirred.

Then a faint trickling.

Soon she formed before him, smaller than usual, her form wavering, the color of her watery body murky.

“B-beloved… glug… is it safe for me to show myself? We are not alone…”

Her head wavered toward the body on the mat, but Raymund’s expression remained rigid.

“Can’t you tell? He’s dead.”

“Oh…,” she replied simply, quickly changing the subject as if it didn’t matter. “And? Were you successful? You return without the cloth, does that mean you sold it all?”

Raymund lowered his head.

“The cloth… is gone,” he forced out.

“Gone? And… the coin?”

“There is no coin.”

“No coin? But... glug...”

His fists clenched.

“Fear not. I will set it right.”

Something flickered in Melusine’s wide eyes.

Doubt.

“Can’t we just go back north? I… I don't like it here. It is too warm, too stifling. And the water, it's so… foul.”

Raymund slowly shook his head.

“Back to the plague-ridden north? No.”

He stepped toward her and brushed her cheek.

“This city is not for us. Tonight we reclaim our goods and move on. We can’t give up yet.”

Raymund felt the gentle tremor that passed through the surface of her watery form as she clasped him.

“As you say, my beloved…”

***

Night had already fallen when Raymund crouched, hooded in the darkness by the great wooden door.

With a soft click, the lock gave way, as water dripped from the keyhole.

Then the door opened from within, and Raymund stepped inside.

“Well done. Now we find the guild's storeroom, take back what is ours, and be off.”

Melusine gave no answer as he stepped past her into the dimness, lit only by the faint reddish glow that shone from her inner core.

They followed the corridor until, at its far end, another light flickered.

They stopped.

“There is someone there… glug…” Melusine whispered, uneasy.

“Probably the storekeeper. At such an hour, no one else should be in the guildhouse.” He nodded to her. “You know what to do.”

With a soft splash, her form collapsed inward and seeped into the dark wooden floorboards.

Raymund waited.

Then the trickling sound came again.

Distant. From the chamber at the corridor’s end.

“What in God’s name...” a voice gasped.

A choked gurgle followed.

“Ghghhh…”

Then a heavy thud.

Only when Melusine’s flickering light reappeared did Raymund move on and enter the room.

The drowned corpse of the storekeeper lay in a pool of water before him, but his gaze lingered on it only briefly as he scanned the room.

Upon the desk lay a small leather pouch among scattered parchments.

Raymund seized it, opened it, and weighed it in his hand.

“Well now, that's a tidy sum. Perhaps we have no further need of the cloth, by the look of it…”

“But I thought we meant to open a cloth trade?” Melusine replied, idly dipping one finger into an inkpot, the black spreading at once through her hand.

Raymund shrugged.

“What we trade in matters not. What matters is having starting capital.”

He pocketed the pouch and gestured down the corridor.

“Come, let's see what else may be found.”

After some time spent rummaging and plundering, they came at last before a heavy wooden door secured with a thick lock.

“This must be the guild's storeroom. Go on, open it.”

Melusine obeyed and flowed through the narrow gap beneath the door.

Yet instead of the expected click, Raymund heard only a startled, bubbling cry.

“Blglyahh!”

He immediately tried to wrench the door open, but to no avail.

“Why are you screaming? What is it?!”

He braced himself against the door, his heart racing.

“Melusine? Open up! Melusine!”

No answer.

Raymund turned away.

“I’ll get my axe… let the neighbors hear me if they must!”

Click.

He froze as the lock behind him disengaged.

The handle creaked downward, and the door swung open.

A yawning black void stretched out before him, and a cold draft brushed against his face.

“M-Melusine…?”

Slowly, he stepped back toward the doorway and drew his sword.

Just before entering, he stopped, placing a hand on the frame, trying to make out anything inside.

Then something flickered in the dark.

A reddish glow, familiar to him.

Melusine's pulsing core

Yet something flashed before it.

Close.

Knife-sharp.

Something that froze Raymund’s blood.

“Ahee… heehee… heeheehee…”

A snap of fingers. Like rotten wood breaking, like tough leather grinding together.

Candles flared to life, casting light across the whole chamber.

“Nnn… R-Raymund... glug... nnh…”

Melusine whimpered as the grip about her throat tightened and a long claw scraped menacingly across her belly.

“Well now, well now. It seems you two pretty things have been industrious. Something grows! Something grooows! Heehee… heeheehee!”

The creature that held Melusine was small, almost ridiculous in stature.

And yet its presence warped the very room.

Its body was thin and bony, its limbs grotesquely long. Its skin was pale, with a sickly grey cast that gleamed like wax in the flickering light.

Its face was twisted, stretched by a broad, grotesque grin of pointed teeth that nearly reached its small, gleaming eyes.

And crowning all was an oddly elegant hood, adorned with black and scarlet cloth.

Raymund went pale.

“It's you…”

The little figure bared its sharp teeth.

“So you have not forgotten me. Nor, I trust… heehee…” Its eyes gleamed yellow, and for a heartbeat the smile vanished.

“…our agreement.”

Raymund’s hands clenched around the hilt of his sword.

“W-why are you here? Release her at once!”

The claws slid away from Melusine's belly.

In the same instant, her body dissolved, only to reform right behind Raymund, her head rising from the floorboards.

Her eyes burned red, filled with fury and fear.

“Wwho… glug… who is that, Raymund?” she cried, her voice trembling with agitation.

The little creature let out a shrill giggle and it began a grotesque, twitching dance.

“Oho… what’s this? Have you not told her of me? Hm? How deceitful. A poor example for your child indeed. But then… you shall not be the one to raise it, so I suppose it matters little. Heehee…”

Melusine's eyes widened.

“Child?!”

The creature’s long, yellowed claw pointed at her.

“Oh, but indeed! Do you not feel it? The foul seed of your little human… how it has taken root within your watery womb?”

Raymund went pale.

Impossible… she shouldn't even be capable of that…

Melusine's form solidified completely.

Her head slowly bent toward her stomach, studying her core, intently.

Then she began to tremble.

“It… it finally worked… I… I’m carrying your child…”

A disbelieving smile broke across her face. Hesitantly, she stroked her belly.

Raymund stared at her, cold sweat trickling down his neck.

Abruptly, he turned to the creature.

“You said it was nearly impossible! One in ten thousand!”

The being opened its mouth wide, far too wide.

It shrieked with laughter, clapping its hands.

“A miracle! A true miracle! Is that not cause for celebration? Ohhh… this shall be a splendid specimen! A roast… I shall savor with delight!”

Melusine turned fully toward it, then back to Raymund.

“What does he... glug... mean?”

Raymund said nothing. His teeth ground together.

This accursed thing had deceived me. It knew this would come to pass, did it not?

His gaze drifted to Melusine's core.

So she really is with my child? But if I tell her of the bargain I made on her behalf...

His grip tightened.

No. This crooked game shall end here. And this foul creature with it.

A breath.

Then he leapt forward.

The metal flashed in the dim light as it came down upon his foe.

But the blade cut only through cool air.

Damnation. Where is he?!

“Ohhh, bold, bold, bold!”

The voice came from above. The creature crouched behind him on a crate, grinning.

Raymund spun around, struck again. Wood splintered, but once more, he hit nothing.

“So! You’d break our bargain in blood, would you now? Slash and spill, as ever? Heehee... nay, nay… not this time!”

Its head emerged from a pile of cloth, as though it were everywhere and nowhere at once.

What kind of sorcery is this? I cannot strike him…

“Raymund!”

Melusine's voice cut through the room, sharp, unusually firm.

”You will explain… glug… at once what is happening here!”

Her eyes blazed, but the creature answered in Raymund’s stead.

”Heehee… There was a bargain! Aye, a bargain! Sealed with clasped hands and sworn honor!”

“What manner of… glug... bargain?!” Melusine demanded, yet her agitation told Raymund she already knew.

The creature’s grin twisted further.

Its voice deepened, almost ceremonial.

“Thy freedom. For thy firstborn.”

Silence.

“Melusine…” Raymund’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “There was no other way…”

No answer.

Only the creature’s giggling.

Then the room began to tremble.

Melusine's body swelled, growing until it reached the ceiling. Bubbles rose within her like boiling water.

“No... NO!“

Her voice became thunder.

“YOU SHALL NOT HAVE IT! NEVER SHALL YOU TAKE MY CHILD!”

Water burst forth.

Waves tore through the storeroom, smashing crates, sweeping everything away.

But the creature’s laughter only grew louder.

“Heeheeheeheehee! Until next time, my pretties! Guard well my roast, I shall come to claim it soon!”

Its voice echoed amid the rush of water.

Then it was gone.

The water struck Raymund like a blow. He lost his footing, was hurled against the wall. The current crushed the air from his lungs.

“Melusine! Melusine, cease! He’s gone!”

Water filled his mouth. His vision blurred.

I… cannot breathe…

At last the storm subsided, and Raymund collapsed to the ground, gasping.

Nothing but a faint dripping remained as he slowly struggled to his feet.

She stood motionless amid the wreckage, her eyes shimmering with a glossy light.

A pale stream ran down her cheeks like oil spilled in the sea.

“How could you… promise… our child…”

Raymund staggered closer.

“It was the only way. You would still be trapped in that pond...”

A soft whimper.

“And what have I gained? My wish… is fulfilled… and yet there is no joy. Only pain…”

Raymund said nothing.

“Come… we must leave this place.”

“And go where?!”

Her body trembled again.

Raymund grabbed her shoulders.

“Anywhere he cannot find us. South. Across the sea. We shall find a way.”

Slowly, she calmed.

And finally, between sobs, she nodded.

“Quickly now. Others may have heard already,” Raymund said.

They turned and ran, the guildhall soon disappearing behind them, swallowed by the night.

From Raymund’s soaked garments, droplets pattered upon the cobblestones, through whose cracks a narrow rivulet followed him, close and watchful.

Every sound made him flinch.

For behind every shadow, he feared it might be waiting.

With gleaming teeth.

And a soft, devilish giggle.