There we go. She gave the wire and pin a twist, unlocking the manacles with a click.
“Wow,” the young woman gasped. “You opened it with just a pin and a hair clip...”
“A neat trick, isn’t it?” Westalia replied.
“Um...” The young woman looked at Westalia as if she might be a seasoned thief.
Westalia wasn’t used to making jokes, which made it even more awkward for her. “I’m...kidding. Don’t look so worried.” She put the used clip and pin into her pocket, wiped the young woman’s wrists clean with a handkerchief, and then gently covered her again with the blanket.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Westalia asked.
“Yes. As you may have guessed, I was kidnapped to be sold as a slave.” She was the daughter of a low-ranking nobleman from a foreign land who had come to the Kingdom of Slidd on a visit. She’d gone shopping in town and lost her escort. She’d followed a man who had claimed he would show her the way back, only to discover that he was a slaver.
Hmm, to think some women can be so naive. Even children know not to follow strangers, thought Westalia, the woefully naive young woman representing the Kingdom of Lhumzia.
Westalia gave the young woman enough money to get back to her hometown, along with a poisoned needle in the shape of a pen that she’d made from materials bought in the marketplace, knowing it was dangerous for a woman to travel alone. Inside of the cylinder of the pen was an anesthetic solution.
“Is this a...pen?”
“It’s no ordinary pen. It’s got a little device inside. If you remove the cap and place that end against someone’s body, it will administer a dose of poison.”
“Poison...”
“Use it in an emergency. You’ll be able to protect yourself, even if you’re otherwise helpless,” Westalia said.
When the young woman fearfully asked what the effects of the poison were, Westalia responded simply that it would numb the body. It wasn’t lethal, but it was effective enough to prevent someone from moving.
“How do you know so much about poisons?” the young woman asked.
“Someone, a long time ago, told me that the most beautiful flowers protect themselves by being poisonous.”
The young woman tilted her head, not understanding the meaning of Westalia’s words.
Incidentally, Westalia had learned about lock picking when she’d been reading up on how to make poison needle weapons, and had been wanting to try it out.
“Mister, I’m getting off here. Can you take this young woman as close to her hometown as you can?”
“What?! You’re pushing this problem off on me? No way!”
“The slavers don’t have that much free time. They’re not going to come after a single escapee. Besides, the chains that bound her are off,” Westalia replied, holding the manacles in front of the merchant’s face.
“Gimme a break,” he muttered, shaking his head in irritation.
“Would you do it for this?” Westalia flashed the hair clip with the missing wire in front of his face. It was an ornate piece of jewelry with expensive-looking gems embedded in it.
“You drive a hard bargain, lady,” the merchant replied, accepting it.
“Um, thank you for helping me, and for the money... Is there any way I can repay you?” the young woman asked.
“I just did the obvious thing,” Westalia replied.
“No, you didn’t. I will repay this blessing some day!”
“Then that’s enough for me. If you see someone in need someday, give them a hand. Oh, if that merchant just takes the reward and doesn’t get you home, stick him with this poisoned needle,” Westalia said, handing over a second poisoned needle.
“And...what does this poison do?”
Westalia plucked a sprig of flowers that were growing near the carriage and put a drop of poison from the needle on one blossom. The flowers that came into contact with the poison withered and died. The young woman and the merchant looked at each other with pale faces.
“It’s a very, very terrible poison. Even just a drop of it is enough to kill a man,” Westalia said, a threatening look in her eye. In truth, the poison that had killed the flowers had no major effect on humans. It only stopped one from urinating and defecating for a while.
The merchant let out a yelp and then said, “D-Don’t worry! You can trust me; I’m getting paid, which makes this a job. I’ll make sure she gets home.” Then he smiled at the young woman.
“Wonderful. Take care.”
“Wait! I’m Lyra. What’s your name?”
Westalia narrowed her eyes. “Cordata. No surname. Now I’m...just Cordata.”
After disembarking from the carriage, Westalia searched for a nearby inn. Her plan had been to travel a little farther today and stay in a place four towns away, but her plans had suddenly changed. According to Lyra’s story, the slavers had everything from beautiful women they kept as pets to strong men they used for work.
Slave traders... I’m intrigued. If I go there, I might find someone who fits my needs... Her curiosity piqued, Westalia’s supple lips curled upward. The sun was setting and the world around her was turning orange as Westalia disappeared into the crowded streets.
The next day, Westalia began her investigation into the slavers. Apparently, the buying and selling took place every Friday night, in the basement of the town’s arena.
Westalia spent one of the nights that weekend replenishing her poison needles. There were various tools spread out across the desk of her room at the inn, including mortars, pestles, and beakers, as well as several tall stacks of books. She ground poison powders with the mortar and pestle and poured them into the pens, along with a solvent. Once the caps were securely closed, her weapons were complete.
“There, finished.” Westalia put the concealed weapons on the desk and stood up from her chair. The room she was staying in had two beds side by side. She was only using one at the moment, but if she was lucky there would be someone else joining her tonight, so she quickly tidied up the room a little bit.