Devils Laugh P2

Leon made his way to a small desk he had moved from a dark cob web covered corner several months ago and placed next to one of the large windows. Piles of paper lay in several neat stacks, complimented by lines of pencils and brushes. He rarely wrote now, as a boy he would draw, hours at his desk until his father would come in and tear him away from it to help in the barn or field, on rare occasions to hunt a dog or wolf that had been nosing around the community.

The little writing he had done since coming back was bland, a journal with a hundred entries of monotonous days, the highlights being the few bar brawls he had a chance to witness, or a particularly pretty girl he had come across in the market. The drawing was worse, crude and dark, things his mind would not let go, that stack of papers sat in the small drawer built into the desk, out of sight of the world he lived in now.

He considered taking a seat for a moment to collect his thoughts on the dream, to try and make sense of them with the pen and paper, ultimately deciding not to ruin his morning with another futal attempt. Instead, he pulled a heavy shirt over his body and shoved his bare feet into a pair of short leather boots that made their home at the end of his bed. A moment later he warmed his hands on the now roaring fire as the sun crept in behind him, clearing the morning fog from his mind and the chill from his body.

Leon put his hand over the heavy steel knob placed into the door and pulled it open, producing a loud creek that wrung out through the short hallway that led to the many stairs he struggled down on the days he left his room. A single lamp on the opposite end, no doubt lit by Jasmin, guided him to the top of the stairs. He took a deep breath before placing down his first dirty boot covered foot, followed by another, and then another.

Many slits covered the walls of the stair well, just enough for a man to peak his eyes out of, to let a small amount of the sun in, Leon glanced at every one of them on his slow descent. Slow as a predator stalking through the forest, he looked and waited at times, awaiting the cry of an enemy or the shock of stones coming through the wall next to him. The cry would never come, nor would the explosion of rock and timber, the choking dust that had blinded him a thousand times in his years.

He thought to himself for a few long moments as he made his way to the bottom, how long had it been since he had been down this far, had it been days or weeks, it could very well have been months by now, he had no recollection of the days passed in the tower. Leon had began sweating again, his feet stifled while his shirt had begun to cling at him like a dyeing women grasping for help. His eyes began to betray him, swimming around before blurring, he wiped at them with shaky, unsteady hands.

There was a creek and a clunk in front of him, causing his mind to snap back. Hands growing tense as he lowered himself slightly to watch the heavy door in front of him swing open much quieter than his had, almost silently, as if it had been done deliberately. Jasmin appeared a moment later with shock on her face, she jumped causing the hard ceramic cup on the small tray she was carrying to jump and slide away from its precarious foundation.

Half of the hot drink spilled over the backside of Leon's hand as he clutched at it, saving the vessel to sacrifice a patch of his pale white skin. The women looked in horror, spouting out apologies for several moments before he straightened and nodded to her.

“Very well Jasmin” He stated, ignoring the pain on the back of his hand.

“I… was not expecting you down so early, sir” She responded franticly.

“understandable” he stated, remembering the mornings the young girl had set the hot dark drink on the small table next to his door, only for it to go cold before he rolled out of bed.

“Would you like me to fill that?” She asked quizzically.

“No” Leon responded.

“Sir… what are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going for a walk” he stated before brushing past Jasmin into the common area that made up the first floor of the building he resided in.

Several people dressed in fine, bright clothes glanced up from plates of hot greasy food or boring politically charged conversations. Some faces grew into bright welcoming, over excited grins while Leon noted that several others stretched thin frowns across their lips before turning back to whatever it was they had been occupying themselves with.

The room was hot and well lit, no doubt the fires here had been lit hours ago in anticipation of the morning rush of nobles that made their way through every morning. Talking about who stayed in who’s room the previous night or some new exciting policy that took its grip on a distant land to further fill their pockets. Long heavy wooden tables, polished so thoroughly Leon could see his reflection in them as he passed by, say to both sides of the long room. A half dozen doors opened and closed as servants brought platter after platter of food and drink, passing under a magnificent chandelier that sat high in the tall ceiling.

He looked to the chandelier when he too passed below, wider than a man was tall and half that in its height. Hundreds of pins and screws held together rods of silver and gold, as well as many small translucent green plates resembling the fine jewel sheets of the south that he did not recognize. Even the chains that held its mighty weight up looked as though they had been forged on some anvil in the heavens, polished so perfectly they barely seemed real.

A pitter patter of light steps sounded behind him as he approached the end of the large room, a true common air with half a dozen couches and twice as many chairs placed in nooks and corners amongst high bookshelves and more perfect tables. Leon glanced over his shoulder, not slowing down for the small women walking quickly behind him. Short with white hair wearing a surprisingly modest blue dress for this place, the long dark fur that hung across her shoulders was the only thing that hinted of riches about her.

“Leon, it’s so good to see you out and about again!” she stated in an excited tone, finally closing ranks with him a few feet from the door.

“Mary” he responded in a respectful tone before taking a short drink of the hot liquid he carried with him.

“I can barely keep myself together, tonight is going to be the largest celebration this kingdom has seen since the Nords were defeated” she stated.

“Yes, it sounds like quite the spectacle” Leon said, trying to be polite as he inched towards the heavy door.

“My daughter, she was supposed to have you dressed and cleaned, you look like a vagabond yet! Ill have her fetched at once, this is unacceptable” Mary continued, bouncing between the previous excitement and something approaching anger.

Leon did not hesitate when the old women spun to find a servant.

The rough cobbles under his boots had a familiarity to them that put his mind at ease as he took in deep lungfulls of the cool morning air. That stifling room had done him no good in the previous months, his body ached, his mind clouded, like a caged animal. Many of the residents he passed by now found themselves happy and content in their small homes, with their small meals they picked from the market every day, watching their children grow slowly knowing they would be sent to a mine, or a shipyard, or a field.

Leon growled as the pain in his left knee flared and he stumbled a few steps before slowing and putting a hand on one of the hundreds of lamp poles that ran throughout the city. The black took his waking mind for a moment, images of the man who had broken him and his brothers searing itself into the inside of his eyelids. The wring of steel and cracking of timber, the screams of the dying and finally the kiss across his body that shattered his bones and opened his flesh. He often wondered when he sat alone if had he been stronger, had he been able to topple that man, would he have been able to real in the chaos that ensued after, would the battle have even ended right there. The nightmares had never found his mind outside of the darkness of the night when he lay tossing and turning in bed.

He cursed his broken body, picking his foot up and flexing his leg a few times before the knee loosened enough that he was able to continue on normally. The market lay a block to his left, while a row of brothels and taverns extended to his right as far as one could see at the intersection he approached. Kings Lane and Water Street shown brightly painted onto two signs facing in opposite directions, Kings being the wide road that led backwards up to the fortress in the center of town.

The scraping of boots sounded as he turned right, dodging a pile of filth before walking slowly down the narrow street, barley wide enough for two carriages to pass by each other. It was quiet now, the drunkards, knights, and nobles had long since stumbled home or passed out in alleys or up against the buildings themselves. One building however would be open this early, washing the perfume and bright lip shaped marks off married men and politicians.

The Wash Shop sat across from the Black Dog tavern, owned by the same man they reflected each other like a mirror had been placed in front of one of them. Leon walked up slowly, raising his chin to gaze up at the weathered building, while it was in far better shape than most of the structures on this street there was still a shutter that hung off a single nail and a crack running through one of the three wide steps that led up onto the porch that wrapped around the front, disappearing around a corner to take up half the alleyway next to it.

“Hell, is that you Leon?” a loud gravelly voice sounded out from the open doorway.

“This place looks like shit” Leon responded, walking up the stairs to stand in the doorway.

“Aye, so do you” the man said before letting out a loud hearty laugh.