Chapter 13
By this point, it was a dance of knives as Wren's and Locke's blades moved around each other. Wren was still more experienced and agile, but Locke had grown accustomed to the rhythm. He knew when to back off and when to press forward.
And since he started living here, he has been eating quite well. His skinny and thin-as-a-twig as a twig body was getting some weight behind it. So, each day, he grew stronger and pushed Wren further than the last.
"Enough playing around." Their dance was interrupted. "I need both of you to follow me."
After his first assassination, Locke had gotten more work over the weeks—spying and gathering information. Nothing he wanted, but it got him closer to the leadership of the gang. That is, to Hal and the boss lady.
"Where to?" Locke asked, a bit annoyed. He thought today would be the day he got Wren.
"To see someone," Hal replied. "All you have to do is stay quiet and stay close."
"Tch. Annoying," Wren muttered.
"Suck it up," Hal didn't care. "Get changed. We're leaving soon."
New clothes were prepared for them, expensive and colorful. Ridiculous-looking, but quite comfortable. And with plenty of places to hide a knife or two. Wren was dressed similarly. With her short hair, some might think she was a boy.
Most people wouldn't give a second glance to kids like them. But that got Locke thinking about how easy it was to trick people. Even though he didn't think anyone would recognize him right away, he feared he would sooner or later start resembling his father.
He didn't wish any eyes from the Red Keep looking over him, so he probably will need to find a way to dye his hair. Either way, he didn't have much time to think about it, as Hal was waiting for them, though he never told them where they were going or why.
Maybe Hal kept things to himself simply because he didn't want to bother explaining anything. He didn't think everything was such a big secret that he was able to say it to him.
"You prepared?" The boss lady was waiting for them. "Let's go, then."
Including Locke and Wren, there were ten of them. Locke recognized the men; they were always close to Hal. It made him think this was the core of the gang. And he felt quite proud thinking he was part of it.
Everyone was dressed luxuriously, unlike their usual plain shirts. If Locke had still been living alone on the streets, he would've tried to steal from them. They looked like they had plenty of coin.
And that was probably on purpose. They flaunted their easy victory over Vic and his gang. Showing off their wealth and power. It was all about the perception of the other people when it came to the gangs.
In the crisp, quiet morning, they walked through the wider streets of Flea Bottom. Showing off and even daring others to get in their way. And once they got closer to their destination, Locke finally understood where they were going.
The Blue Whale. Probably the most luxurious brothel in Flea Bottom. A territory of nasty people that Locke had learned early on to avoid. He heard children disappear every time they wandered in.
Everywhere he looked, some bastard was eyeing them. Ugly fuckers flashing their weapons and yellow teeth. They wanted Locke and the others to know that this was their territory, and they should tread carefully.
It made Locke wonder what they were doing here. But seeing how calm Hal was as he walked through the street stopped Locke from worrying. He'd have to remember this: that no matter the situation, if he kept calm, his subordinates would do the same.
"Are we meeting the Whale?" Locke asked Hal.
"Aye," Hal replied. "He was behind Vic and everything that happened."
"Are we going to kill him?"
"Can you do it?"
"Probably. With enough time."
"Well, even then, you wouldn't," Hal replied with a smile. "The fucker's careful. Never leaves his territory. Coward, but not an idiot. A dangerous combination that made him the biggest shit in this place."
Locke had picked up more information since working for the boss lady. The Whale was greedy. Controlled most businesses in Flea Bottom. Probably had the most men, too.
He'd never seen the man, but he'd heard people talking. Word was the Whale was some bastard son of a ruined house that stayed loyal to the Targaryens. He had connections to some nobles.
And he ran quite a large smuggling ring, as he made money from everything and everyone. Would it were drugs, wine, or weapons, it was said that he could get anything anyone asked.
But it wasn't things that made the rich, it was people. Slavery might've been outlawed in the Seven Kingdoms, but that didn't stop someone like him from kidnapping little girls and boys and forcing them into his brothels.
If he didn't have space for them, it was said he'd just smuggle them into the Free Cities and sell them into slavery. In short, he was exactly the kind of bastard Locke didn't want anything to do with. And the kind of bastard that could give him quite a reputation boost if he killed him.
"The Greedy Hag and her little piglets," a big man at the entrance sneered. "The boss is waiting for you. Don't cause too much trouble. It'd be a shame to slaughter you all."
"Trust me," Hal patted the man's shoulder as he passed. "If we cause trouble, you won't live to see it."
Locke had learned not long ago that Hal had quite a reputation. A man who came out of nowhere and killed his way to the top of Flea Bottom. There wasn't a single man worth his word who didn't know Hal's name.
The boss lady had a reputation, too. After inheriting the tavern when her husband died, she rose through the ranks by taking in orphans and putting them to work. She gathered wealth quickly. Word spread. People gathered around her. Now she was one of the top bosses in Flea Bottom,
The inside of the brothel was finer than Locke expected. It probably served important people. At least those with good coin. And the ones who didn't want to be noticed coming in place like this.
Still, as good as the interior was, it couldn't hide the fact that this was still Flea Bottom, the most crime-ridden place in the Seven Kingdoms. Anyone coming here was risking their life, or at least their purse. So, the clients were all rough and scary-looking.
"I've been waiting for you." Locke shouldn't have been surprised that someone called the Whale would be fat, but he hadn't expected him to be that fat.
He looked more like a catfish than a whale. Big head, thin mustache, plump lips. Freakish like everything else in this place. Though he didn't hold a candle against the scary people he had seen before.
Locke still had shivers remembering those cannibals. Their inhuman appearances. He hoped he wouldn't meet them again.
"You know why we're here," the boss lady said.
"If I didn't, you wouldn't have come. All dressed up for me. What do you want?"
"You're getting out of control," the boss lady replied, taking a seat, since no one offered it. "Flea Bottom will never belong to you."
"And why not? I have the most men, the best connections, and the most wealth. Nobody can touch me. I get to do as I want."
"You might be the strongest, but not by much. You know that if you lose even a bit of influence, the dogs will come to tear you apart. That's why you used Vic and his little friends instead of acting yourself. You knew if we fought, we might lose, but you'd follow us down to hell soon enough."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to stop getting in my way. This is your last warning."
"And you parade yourselves in here just to say that? Stupid hag. I could have you killed right now. Who's going to stop me, those two kids?"
"I'd be careful with your words. One of them killed Vic. The other hunted down his nephew and carved a second smile into his neck, in the middle of the street. Nobody stopped him then; nobody will stop him now."
"The Shadowcat and the Stray, huh?" Locke liked that he'd gained a nickname, though he wondered why it wasn't something better. Like the Stranger. "They sure look scary, but my question still stands."
"You know why," Hal replied. "You're scared of the old man. He alone would carve your little place to pieces before the rest of us follow in to finish you."
"He's old," the Whale said. "Ten years ago, maybe. Now? He probably can't even walk."
"And yet you still won't come out to play," Hal sneered. "Enough bullshit. Here's the deal. You give compensation for your little games. Promise to leave us alone. Or you'd best prepare for the nastiest fate in Flea Bottom."
"Don't threaten me," the Whale said. "I've got plenty of butchers like you. All I promise is that you can leave now, alive. And if I want you dead tomorrow, you'd better start digging your graves tonight."
Hal glared. Some of the Whale's men flinched. Others had their hands on weapons. Locke didn't like this. They were outnumbered three to one. And in enemy territory. It would be difficult to run away.
"You've been warned," the boss lady said, ending the tension. "Keep playing your games, and we'll sharpen our blades and come for you."
And with that, she led them out. For a second, Locke thought the Whale might attack. But he didn't. He let them go. And that said a lot.
To Locke, it looked like a show of force. Their gang walked in, said what they wanted, and left. And the Whale let them. Word would spread. The Drunken Pig's gang could walk all over the most powerful gang in Flea Bottom, and nobody could do anything about it.
Now, not many would dare mess with them. But Locke hoped that wouldn't be the case. He needed fights. He wanted to build a reputation. After a few more kills, maybe people would respect him.
Then again, it wouldn't be bad if that came later. All he had to do now was get better. Build relationships with other gang members. Climb higher.
…
It was probably this old man that the Whale was scared of. Once again, he was just sitting in the corner while the tavern celebrated. They'd gained quite a bit of gold for their trouble.
Drinks and food spilled everywhere. The kids barely managed to keep the floors clean, even as they worked without rest. Though Locke didn't think that anyone cared if they stepped in a puddle of ale or not.
But what Locke was concerned with was this old man. Silently watching everything. No one even whispered about him. And when Locke asked around, most people didn't even remember who he was. Hal, of course, completely dismissed the question and told Locke to forget it.
But those with power feared him. And Locke wanted that. Not just fear from blades or blood, but the kind of fear the Whale felt. So much so that he wouldn't even leave his home.
That meant the old man had done something crazy. Or he was simply that skilled. And there was only one way to find out.
"Who are you?" Locke sat down in front of the old man with greying hair.
No reply. The old man just looked at Locke with tired, probably half-blind eyes. His hands were rough, even for an old man. He drank from his mug in silence.
"Can you teach me how to fight?"
"Why do you want to learn?"
"To kill a lot of people," Locke answered honestly.
"Then you don't want to learn how to fight," the old man said. "You should learn how to rule."
"One doesn't rule just because they learn how," Locke replied. "They rule because they were born with a name and a title."
"And who's stopping you from taking a name? Taking a title? In this place, no one is born with anything. They take."
"Then teach me how to take what I want."
"You won't leave me alone otherwise, will you?"
"No. Not until I have what I want."
"Well, little Stray. Count yourself lucky. You've piqued my interest. We start at sunrise."
Locke didn't think it would be that easy. He thought the old man would be more stubborn. Hopefully, he hadn't set his expectations too high. Hopefully, he'd learn something useful.
A.N. As always. Thanks for reading and supporting me. If you want 7 more chapters of this story and 42 chapters in total with all my current stories, please consider supporting me on pa treon ironworlf852. Thanks in advance.