Chapter Three

SEVEN YEARS LATER

Tamora woke, her stomach feeling woozy. Today had finally come, and now she wasn't sure if she wanted it to. Today she was going back to her old neighborhood, to face her past and get her revenge. As she went into the bathroom, where a bath had already been drawn for her, she couldn't believe how easily she'd run away from her past without even knowing it.

She allowed the hot water to wash over her skin and calm her nerves. It was hard. She had spent the last seven years focusing and learning how to be a new person, and trying to forget he circumstances of her father's death.

Once Tamora got out of the bath she tried to decide what to wear. If she wore a dress it would be harder to defend herself, but then a dress would make her look more innocent and feminine. She took a second to think about it before deciding to wear pants. In her old neighborhood it was better for her to defend herself than look pretty. Either way she'd look rich, which in itself would cause trouble, but she'd face that obstacle when it came.

After dressing, Tamora went to the dinning hall for breakfast where Timon was already eating. He was with his wife, Delia, whom he had married five years ago. Tamora smiled at them both and accepted a bowl of porridge from the maid, who had started to be nicer to her once Tamora had learnt how to act properly in public.

"Good morning sweetie," Delia said with a smile. Tamora smiled back. She loved Delia, who was like the mother she had never had. Delia had accepted Tamora as a 'daughter' the day they had decided to wed. Delia was one of those people who could light up a room with just their presence and she was pretty too. She had honey coloured hair, and a perfect complexion.

"How do you feel?" Timon asked her.

"Nervous." Tamora admitted. "Frightened, afraid, having second thoughts."

"Don't worry sweetie, you'll get through this. You lived there for ten years and you can come back here at any time." Delia told her. Tamora loved Delia and Timon so much that it made the goodbyes really hard but she managed to finish her breakfast, hug them both goodbye and get into the cart, which was taking her away, without crying.

Once Tamora had been dropped off, she walked casually through the market place. She was surprised at how much it had changed, or she had changed. Once she had thought of it as a place of excitement and fun, now it was just a place of danger. With robbers and murderers mixed in the crowd and lots of dark alleyways people could be forced into. There were officers there, but they were just as bad.

Tamora managed to walk through half the marketplace before she ran into trouble. She saw a boy about her age walking towards her. Even though it had been years since she'd been here, she still recognized his black hair and brown skin. His name was Jonas and he was known for being a good thief. He had also been one of Tamora's friends and she had admired him fiercely. Now she wished he wasn't coming in her direction. She looked too wealthy for him to just pass by. Tamora kept walking though, knowing that this way, at least she'd get his attention. As he walked past he 'accidentally' bumped into her.

She grabbed his arm, and when he turned around she whispered, "Give it back."

"What're ya talkin' bout?" He asked.

"I know you have my purse." She replied calmly. "Give it back."

He started to protest that he didn't have it when she got tired of it and knocked him into a nearby alleyway.

"Jonas, I know you have my purse and I wish to have it back."

He stared at her. "How'd ya know my name? I aint known anyone rich before."

She smiled. "It's me, Tamora. We were friends a while back."

He looked at her intensely for a minute before smiling and gave her a one armed hug, returning her purse as he did so. "Where 'ave ya been?" he asked. "I missed ya, girl."

"It's a long story," she said wryly, "let's just say I've been away."

He nodded, accepting her explanation.

"So, how's life on the street?" She asked turning their conversation in the direction she wanted it to be. "Have the snake eyes stopped starting fights and pointless murders, yet?"

He snorted. "Haven't heard? Well I guess ye wouldn't up in clean land. A plague's gone round town, too many people dyin' anyway. But nah, they aint stopped. Never will."

"So they haven't been killing as much." Tamora clarified. She had promised Timon she might consider forgiveness if they had stopped killing, but they hadn't. She highly doubted forgiveness would have been an option anyway.

"Yeah, they only kill when people 'ave truly done somethin' they don't like, or 'ave lotsa money." He drawled, uninterested in what he was saying. "Why'd ya care, anyway?"

"Coz, my...fa." she felt her voice break as she started to say it. She'd only told one person about her father's death and that had been Timon. She had to get him to tell Delia. "...f-f-father...was...mur...murdered by...'em." She finally said and tears started to run down her face.

Jonas suddenly lost his uninterested look, which was replaced by a look of concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

She nodded, wiping tears away from her face. "Can you help me with something?"

"Are ya sure ya wanna do this?" Jonas asked as they stood outside the snake eyes hideout.

Tamora nodded. "They have to apologize for what they did."

"What's apol...apol... you know what I mean."

"They have to say sorry." She explained, trying not to grin, and failing.

Jonas glared at her. "Come on, 'fore I change me mind." The two of them went into the hideout, where six dirty men sat on the floor surrounded by dirty bottles of stale rum and the air was full of the stench of blood, sweat and smoke. The men all stopped talking and rose to attack the intruders.

"Whose ya leader?" Jonas asked spitefully.

The men laughed, but one answered, "I am. What the hell d'ya want?"

"He doesn't want anything." Tamora said smoothly. "I want you dead, no I want to kill you."

The men all started laughing at this point. None of them could believe a girl could kill their leader. "Ya can't d anything, missy." One said laughing. "Ye nothin' but a girl who'll spend 'er life doin' men's bidin'."

Tamora, shamefully, let her temper take control and removed a knife from a sheath on her arms. All in one movement she threw the knife, hitting the speaker in the chest. This made them silent. They knew it was business when blood was shed. The leader attacked her, while Jonas kept the others at bay.

Tamora ducked his blows easily as they came, for the man was drunken and unskilled anyway. His only superiority is that he usually had a weapon and his victims didn't. It was different this time. Tamora stuck her knife out, and hit his arm.

Cursing angrily the murderer leaped at her. Tamora was knocked to the stone floor, getting winded as she hit the ground with a heavy adult on top of her. She couldn't defend herself now he had her arms pinned down, and for the first time, Tamora regretted her want, need, for revenge. He smiled at her, and lent down to whisper in her ear, "Stupid child, now it's time ta learn ya lesson.

Tamora closed her eyes fearfully, knowing that it was the end of her life, when she felt him go limp and slip off of her. She opened her eyes to see Jonas standing over her, his eyes grim and a bloody knife in his hand

A few weeks later Tamora smiled as she went to the cart, which would take her back to Oxford. She had confronted her demons and forgiven the past. She felt her heart swell at the thought of going home, for that's what Oxford felt like to her now, home. "Ready to go?" Tamora asked her companion, who smiled wryly. "No." he admitted, but got into the cart with her anyway. As they started to move Tamora smiled at the prospect of having a life with Timon and Delia, without regret or grief. She looked forward to introducing Jonas, whom she had convinced to come with her, to Timon and Delia. Maybe now that she was getting him off the streets she could make an honest man out of him. But she wasn't expecting miracles. Just a proper life with real friends and family, who wouldn't be taken away from her by death.

Okay what did you all think? Was it okay? Please review with any comments or 'constructive' criticism (no flames)

And thank you to everyone who has reviewed:

kingsweet

clumseysweetpea

layby-cougar

Selah Ex Animo

And a special thanks to Selah for pointing out that my dialogue wasn't spaced out.