Blood flowed into the rain and then vanished again into the dirt and cobbles. Konrad knew that wasn't the only trail they were leaving. It was just the one hardest to follow.
The easier one was the crowd of Sunberth dwellers who, staying true to the principle, were lazily following the battered little trio. Just to see what happened next. But as he cast the odd look back over his shoulder, bleeding stomach growling and stabbing his nerves with every step, Konrad noted that no furious, running figures with weapons drawn were joining the procession.
Benefits of being a face, he though wryly, face pinched and pale.
They know what you can do. What you've just done. And they don't want none of it.Which was a plus, but Konrad knew that unless they got to a man with some healing knowledge in his hands, it wouldn't matter much. He's suffered and survived worse, but the longer they left it...
Fuck it. Keep walking. Not far to go.The boy said something. Blurry. Made fuzzy by the rain and the blood pounding in his skull. Konrad just grunted and ignored him, hand pressed to his stomach. Three Eyes did much the same, head on a swivel for the best time to do the smart thing: leave these two bastards and made a proper run for it.
Turned out, that wasn't necessary. They made the next district and the fetid, claustrophobic glory of the Slums at the edge of Sunset Quarter was revealed to them. Konrad upped his pace as best he could, swinging legs that were fast losing their feeling, eating up the cobbles until he found the door he wanted-
BANG BANG BANG
"Snouty?! Open the fuck up, I got business for ya!" Something slid and shuffled and kicked over a bottle behind the door. Konrad looked around and saw the crowd watching, cow-like and half-interested. He delved into his pocket and into that bag the boy had given him, filling it with mizas.
"Snouty, ya cunt?! Got a handful a' gold fer yer skill wit' a needle! Youse gonna let that just slip away?"That got the unseen occupant's attention. Sluggish footsteps approached the door. A half-dozen bolts and locks were freed and the door opened just enough for a pale and near-hairless face to be seen-
"Don' be fuckin' me around today, Snout."-and for Konrad to slam his shoulder into it and barge his way in, gritting his teeth as fresh, blooming bruises sent lightning racing up and down his side. The meek man behind the door jumped back with a yelp, smoothing over the bare straggles of hair he still had over his sweaty dome. It calmed him. Today, he'd need a lot more than a nervous tic.
"Fuck me, Venger, what-"
"Don' be askin' stupid questions, neither," Konrad snarled, dragging his arse into the bottle- and trash-strewn hovel. He made a beeline for the bed and sat onto the edge as easily as he was able, giving Snouty a good view of his blood-soaked shirt.
"Some fucker tried to cut me open, s'all y'need to know."He slammed his hand onto the table but it was more than flesh and bone hitting wood; there was the heavy, muffled clink of coins, too. Snouty's gaze snapped to it like a hawk to a plump pigeon. He all but licked his lips and Konrad's fevered gaze searched around for-
They were filthy and scattered across his rotted bureau, but there they were. Needles. Scalpels. Tweezers. Spools of thin thread and bottles of foul-smelling yet medically-divine potions and poultices. A pile of dirty bandages was behind the lot and Konrad pointed a shaky hand at them.
"Get t'work," he said as he got as comfortable as possible, ripping open his shirt and damn the buttons popping all over the room.
"An' gimme somethin' fer the pain. Eyes? Watch the door."Neither man needed to be told twice, and Snouty knew well enough what "something for the pain" entailed. He gathered some of his trade tools and snagged a half-full bottle of 'shine as he went, shoving it into Konrad's hand. The sellsword chugged down most of it in one parched, desperate guzzle, feeling it burn and rend his insides... but leave him a number man at the end of it.
"Fuck... bastard tried t'pull yer guts out, by the looks of it."
"Aye. Tried. Cunt won't be doin' it again."
"Of that, Venger, I have no doubt."Konrad rolled his eyes and rested his head. Snouty still talked like that sometimes, like he was still beavering away at his studies in Zeltiva, instead of working as a bargain-basement bone-setter for any street daemon with coin. Konrad had heard the stories. He'd had such high hopes, and proud ways. Then he discovered he liked his booze and floozies a little too much, and even Zeltiva had chased him out. Word was, there were still powerful people back there who wanted a word with him about the murky circumstances of his flight back to Sunberth.
Konrad though he'd chase that up, one day. But he'd found Snouty far more useful here, and working, than dragged to Zeltiva and facing his music.
"Does it ever get any easier?" The words fluttered back into his mind as he lay there. Metal was laid out and sterilized in liquid that could kill infection with a quick soaking. A little steel chorus that brought Konrad's mind back to the boy. The one standing in the room with his chest heaving and his face hollow, eyes blinking mechanically.
Konrad took another slug of the 'shine, gaze not leaving Sh'Ky.
"Aye," he said, with the brutal honesty of a man who killed for pay.
"It does. After a while... y'don't even 'member their faces..." His gaze fogged. Memory took its place. Laying there on that filthy bed with a barely-trained healer about to stick things into him, Konrad sighed. More out of exhaustion that regret. That feeling... he'd lost it long.
"They all jus'... run together...""Does it ever stop... burning, in the pit of yer stomach? This feeling of... hate?"He remembered the rest as Snouty poured a dram of something burning and vicious over his stomach. Blood washed away and a thousand angry teeth clamped themselves into his flesh. Konrad jammed his knuckles into his mouth and bit down hard, roar of pain muffled.
Does it go away? Or do you not even notice it anymore?"Askin' the wrong man, boy," he said through gritted teeth. He looked back at Sh'Ky and the boy could see a man living as he would die. A breath away from Dira and set to greet her with a bottle in one hand and the other hovering near his dagger. Laying in filth and unmourned, cared for by none whose attentions he had not purchased beforehand.
"M'jus'... jus' here fer... fer coin..."The fog was upon him. The pain. The booze. The adrenaline seeping back out of his body and leaving him to the mercy of his wounds. But even sleep would be denied him as Snouty dug the first thread-tied needle into his flesh and bit back his roar like a bull set to bellow.
Fuck... just get it over with, already.
