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( :o ooh yeah love that drama)
Innes is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the door when he hears a set of footsteps on the stairs. He doesn't think anything of it at first, but then more steps join them.
Frantically, Innes stumbles over to wake Katya.
"There's a group of 'em," he whispers, "We need to get out now"
Katya stirs awake silently, blinking the little sleep from her eyes as she assesses the situation. Footsteps outside–all of them stopping at their door. "Shit." She hisses, reaching for her bow sitting on the floor. "Get the windows open. I can buy us some time." She casts her own quick glance outside. Morning seems to be only an hour away. If the villagers begin to set up their morning markets, they'll be able to make a clean getaway with the crowd as a diversion. Turning her attention back to the door, Katya nocks an arrow and points it straight at the door. It thumps. The hinges rattle. They're planning on knocking it down.
Innes grabs his bag and stumbles towards the window. He works quickly and quietly to push the pane up, but he's fumbling and nervous. Yet, by some miracle, he manages to push the window up with a heavy creaking sound. The guards still haven't burst through the door quite yet. He goes to the second window, but it's stuck.
"Second one's not going," he huffs, turning to his sister, "First window'll have to do. Let's go, you first."
Innes is now waiting for her to run away. He has a hand over the hilt of his sword, just in case.
Katya scoffs, glancing over her shoulder at the opened window. "You go. I need someone to break my fall–" Right as the words leave her mouth, the door breaks. Within milliseconds, Katya releases two arrows, landing them home right in the chinks of their neck armor. They fall to the ground gargling, but there are many behind them. Maybe ten more. Katya curses, pushing at her brother before leading out the window.
"Well, shit-" Innes murmurs, jumping onto the ledge outside the window and making his way to the ground.
Innes lands clumsily, pain shooting up his foot. Yet, he's alright; he simply landed awkwardly.
"Come on!" he shouts up at his sister after checking his surroundings for more guards.
Innes sees a group of them not too far away, but they haven't noticed the commotion yet. Before he turns to run, he makes sure he's on the same page as Katya.
Katya doesn't look lands with a soft grunt, shifting her momentum to roll over her shoulder and back to her feet. She lodges another arrow in the forehead of a guard who dared to look out the window. "Move–" She shouts, following her brother around a few of the corners. She keeps an arrow nocked in her bow, the string taught and ready to fire. If there's three down, that leaves nine left. Damn it, she should've stayed a little longer and picked off a few more. "Where to?" She asks as she turns over her shoulder. The sun is rising, the first few marketmen of the day are beginning to set up their shops.
Innes begins to run too, as soon as he knows his sister is ready to go. He glances around. He wants to run into the quiet, dark embrace of the forest, but there's too little to hide their trail there, especially when the guards are likely more familiar with its terrain.
"Marketplace, town square," he says tersely, "We'll see what we can do once we get there."
Aside from the rising commotion acting as the perfect smokescreen, Innes knows that the marketplace is situated pretty far from the barracks, should they call in reinforcements.
Katya nods at the direction, taking off in the lead with a drawn bow. The guards must not have had the balls to jump out the window, forcing them to travel through the inn and around it to even get to the back alley. Katya didn't see any of them with bows. At least she'll have the advantage at ranged. Swiftly, she steps around men setting up a canopy and steps onto a busy street. She checks to ensure Innes is still behind her and returns her arrow to the quiver.
Innes follows Katya closely and ducks behind the canopy as well.
He still hasn't drawn a weapon, much more focused on escape over anything else.
"Okay, I think we lost them for now," he says, panting, "but we need a better plan. We can't keep running yet; we'll stand out."
"Blend in?" Katya suggests. It seems to be their only option. If they fight, more guards will come and they'll only panic the poor villagers. If they run, it'll be easy to target and catch them. Katya doesn't know if whoever sent the guards wants them alive or dead, but she doesn't intend to stay long enough in one spot to find out. "This way–" She steers Innes down another busy street, discretely tucking her bow beneath the wide folds of her cloak.
"That's the idea," Innes agrees, still making sure to follow Katya as closely as possible.
"We should just act like any old customers in the marketplace. Civilians won't recognize us, and it shouldn't rouse any extra suspicion if we're just doing what anyone else is doing, right? But we'll be slowly moving away from the city. Eventually, we should he able to slip past the gates and into the forest."
Katya nods, checking over her shoulder and keeping a concealed hand on the hilt of a hidden dagger. God, she would've loved a long night's rest, but she apparently can't have nice things. The only thing that can't be used to kill someone on her person happens to be a few stolen gold pieces. Well, better put them to use now. She grabs Innes's sleeve and pulls him in front of one of the few stalls up and ready. An old woman with trembling hands sits behind a vat. It smells like heaven, and Katya wonders exactly how many gold pieces it'll take for the woman to give them her soup recipe.
Innes draws out a couple of gold pieces. It does in fact smell heavenly, and is probably cheaper than the inn's food. It'll save them a hunting trip later.
"How much for a bowl?" He asks, still keeping an ear out for any commotion nearby.
Innes' stomach has been grumbling on and off for the past day or two. He grazed on some nuts at the inn last night, but otherwise, he was too focused on other things to stop to eat. Besides, he and Katya are dirt poor now. They left home with effectively no money and even now, they have no steady source of income. When they can afford to eat a meal not made over a campfire, it's a good day.
The wrinkled woman looks up, her dark eyes kind. "Just a piece of silver," her voice like crackled paper coos. Katya doesn't hesitate to reach into her bag to fish out the two coins–well, accidentally bringing up a third with the two.
"Consider this a tip–" Katya says as she places the three coin onto the makeshift table. The woman smiles, the very depths of it reaching the corners of her eyes. With shaking hands, the soupmaker pours them each a small bowl. Katya takes them both and hands one back to her brother. "Thank you, ma'am."
"We appreciate it," Innes adds, taking the bowl from Katya.
He turns away from the stall to look back behind them and sweep his gaze over the street. For now, the group of guards has not come into the central street. There are a few guards, but they're doing their everyday patrolling, blissfully unaware of the situation at hand.
The soup is fantastic and warms Innes to the core. It has been a while since his last good home-cooked meal, especially since neither he nor Katya have that good of skills. Growing up with chefs and other people at their service, learning to cook was never something on their minds. Both could do more than enough to survive, but in comparison, good homemade food was almost life-changing.
Innes partially uses the bowl to cover his face as he watches out over the street. And his gaze shifts back to his sister.
"Let's get moving away from the center," he says, "But we should definitely stop to look at other stalls to help us stay hidden."
Katya nods, sipping at her soup. She has to hum at the taste. It truly does taste as good as it smelled. True to her brother's word, there aren't any guards that seem actively evident on hunting them down. Staying in the morning market and slowly working their way to the edges might be the best way to go. Plus, there's always the chance of finding something special. Magical, perhaps.
"Sounds good," Katya confirms, checking over her shoulder before following her brother across the path to another few stalls. These ones are selling simple weapons, dishware, and textiles. It doesn't look like anything too interesting, but she acts like it. If any guards pass by, all they'll see is a woman completely enamored with a washcloth.
On the other hand, Innes, although still wary of the guards possibly hunting them down, has more genuine interest in the dishware and textiles. He can't afford to buy anything, or take anything much with him, but he appreciates the artistry, from hand-painted glazes to carefully woven shawls, to hand-spun threads. There is no doubt that he, given his position as a royal back, would absolutely be a patron of the arts. He misses the times where he had constant access to beautiful things, even more than he realized before.
Yet, as he peruses the wares, he is struck by a wave of melancholy, knowing he can't stay here, and probably shouldn't dream of such frivolous things. Yet, beauty and art make his world a little less bleak, to be sure.
From the corners of her eye, Katya watches the citizens mill about. The bowl feels like heaven in her hands–warm, smells delightful, filling, savory goodness… She takes another long sip. She might have to order another bowl from the woman. As she locates the old woman's stall again, Katya notes a few guards looking awfully familiar. They haven't seemed to notice her yet. They look frantic and melancholy and some of their tunics are lightly coated in blood. Whoops. Katya should feel some remorse after taking out three of their comrades, but it's a dog-eat-dog world and she can't apologize for surviving.
To let Innes know of the searching guards, she adjusts her hood and taps his foot with her own. A small signal that shouldn't raise any sort of suspicion. "On our right," she whispers, leaning in to observe the weaving of a basket a little closer.
Innes casts his gaze sideways a bit to lay eyes on the guards. He sighs, clearly exasperated. The running was tiring, and he never really did get used to it. Innes feels a wave of nausea pass over him as he sees the blood on the guards' uniforms. He didn't do it, but he may as well have. He had killed guards before, and thinking about the lives behind every one of them always made him hurt. Made him ill. Did they have families too? Did they just lose their dad as well?
Innes takes a few steps in the direction opposite of the guards, passing in front of his sister. They have made a good deal of progress towards the city perimeter, and he's fairly confident they can slip past soon enough. At the same time, he's becoming restless. He just wants to make a break for it.
"After they pass, we leave," Katya whispers into the folds of her brother's hood. The guards may be oblivious to their presence, but they're still far too close for Katya's liking. She could easily take them out–a sneak attack if you will–but she rather favors the old woman's soup and respects the craftsman's trade. Katya would hate to tarnish a respectable business with violence. "Make it for the next kingdom, then we figure out a new plan."
From the corner of her eye, Katya takes in the symbols and colors of their cloaks. A curse escapes her lips in a pointed breath. They aren't from this kingdom, the coat of arms is far too similar to those she's seen in the past. The wrongful king must have caught wind of their location and sent a galley of his averagest men to find them. Katya still isn't quite sure if the king wants their heads attached or severed, but she doesn't intend to stick around long enough to find out.
"Sounds good," Innes agrees.
Yet, as the guards pass, he notices the small detail too, just a few moments after Katya. He almost asks what's wrong, but he knows. He knows all too well. Innes has just finished his soup, and his grip around the bowl has tightened.
"Same plan. This makes no difference," he whispers, mostly trying to reassure himself into staying quiet and still instead of running. All he felt he knew how to do was run, but even that would eventually bring him to a dead end if he wasn't careful.
(SHIT IM SORRY I THOUGHT I RESPONDED TO THIS)
The guards pass and Katya finally allows herself to breathe, still shallowly. She takes the final sip of her soup. She would love to get a second bowl, but there are enemies too close and she won't risk it for a warm and full stomach. "Break left," she whispers as she steps away from the stall and down the passage. She keeps her hood over her head and just barely dipped over her eyes. She watches the ground and the feet of all the pedestrians. The boots of the guards are engraved in her mind;she'll know if one approaches.
Feeling the presence of her brother right behind her, Katya steps out of the market, luckily pushed right against the forest. It's thick enough that in only a third of an hour they'll be out of sight.