54 - Forced March

He found the dwarf waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. The myrmidon's scowl was deeper than usual. The warrior constantly glanced around the deck as if looking for signs of trouble. Clearly, he was not happy about Joe’s good reputation with the mass of people aboard the Tide Dancer.

Joe wondered if he could convince Azbekt that he wasn’t going to try and make trouble. He didn’t want this issue with Groven hanging over his head any longer. Maybe he could convince the fiery dwarf to relax.

It shouldn’t be too difficult since he had barely done anything wrong. At worst, he had been a little flippant with some nobleman. That surely was not enough to warrant any truly dire punishment.

Looking at the scorn-filled sneer on the myrmidon’s face, Joe doubted it was going to be that easy.

Azbekt VanderAxe: Dwarf: Enforcer / Myrmidon / Champion 34

“Good morning, sir. I have come down to surrender myself,” Joe announced, walking to the steps.

“I find that dubious,” the dwarf replied in a hard, grinding voice. Azbekt crossed his arms over his broad chest and glared around. Joe did not miss the fact that the Phealtian had stayed on the steps. While it was unlikely the dwarf had any insecurity about his height, the elevation did give him a boost to intimidation. “Here on this deck, my authority is superseded by the captain’s. If you truly wished to yield, then why did you not wait until we reached the dock?”

Perplexed by this odd attack, Joe stammered, “I don’t know. Now seemed like as good a time as any.”

“Bah! The fey lie as easily as good folk breathe. What is your game? Normally, I would have thought that you seek to shield yourself behind these indebted innocents,” he growled, sweeping a hand to include the sailors and passengers around them on deck. “But that doesn’t fit. I saw you imperil yourself time and again on their behalf last night. You would not risk them now any more than you would have let them die to the sea raiders. I must admit, I don't know how to read you, feyling. And I hate not knowing.”

“I … I … don’t know what to tell you, Azbekt. You are right. I don't want anyone fighting for me,” he stated, turning to give Wakely a firm look before turning back to the dwarf. “What’ll it take to gain even a measure of trust here.”

“You can start by surrendering your weapon.”

Joe could not help but laugh. “If you can find it, I’d be grateful. The last I saw, my staff was taking a dive off the ship.”

“And your other magical paraphernalia? Turn that over then.”

“Will I get a receipt for it?”

“You dare to question my honor, knave?” the myrmidon hissed, thrusting his face forward.

Joe took a breath, not rising to the myrmidon’s challenge. “No. Your word will do.”

Azbekt, who looked about to launch into another tirade, snapped his jaw closed with a click of his teeth. Foiled by Joe's respect, he drummed his gauntleted fingers against the mail covering his thigh, clacking out a frustrated beat. “May Phealti forgive me. You have my word, outlander. I shall return that which you give me once your trial is complete.”

As he watched the dwarf’s eyes sweep over him searching, Joe realized that Azbekt was trying to spot his enchanted gear, but he clearly was failing to do so. [No One] was blocking the myrmidon from being able to assess even his gear.

The [Band of Beguilement] was in plain sight. With its pink and violet coloring, it was so at odds with everything else Joe was wearing he knew it must have been spotted. Once the item left his body, the dwarf would be able to [Identify] it. Joe sighed. Beguilement seemed like a very faerie type of magic. He had a feeling that the powers and nature of the band would only make Azbekt loathe him even more.

He considered keeping one item as an ace in the hole since it wouldn’t be detected. The teleportation medallion could be useful if things went sideways.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that the dwarf would ask if there was anything else, and then Joe would have to lie. Lying seemed like a very bad idea. Sir Groven had sensed something fey about Joe even through [No-One]. Would the myrmidon be able to sense lies?

“Fine,” he replied. He reached into his gambeson and lifted out the [Talisman of the Medic] and then slid off the purple and fuchsia bracelet. He took the keen knife out of its sheath and grabbed the slow stone from his belt pouch. These he dropped into his healer’s kit along with his spinning ring. He then dropped to the deck to pull off his footgear.

“Here, this is everything I have,” Joe exclaimed, holding out the bag, belt, and boots.

“This is it. A single rare and a collection of assorted dreck. You must have more.”

“Gee, thanks for rubbing in how badly I’m doing. That’s it, Azbekt. Really.” he stated. “Can we go now?”

“Very well then. Put these on,” He stated, throwing back Joe’s boots and a single metal manacle. “We will be hard-pressed to make it to Tellemont Square before the late morning bell. In light of the lives you saved last night and the healing this morning, I was willing to delay our departure, but now we chance being late. I hate being late.”

The dwarf swung the rest of the confiscated belongings toward a small purse hanging off his belt. All of Joe’s stuff seemed to shrink and vanish into the pouch as the dwarf brought the items close to the bag’s opening.

Joe sat down on the lowest step, yanking on his boots before considering the metal shackle. He really didn’t want to clip it on, but he also didn’t want to spend his days running from Phealti’s followers. The Duke and Groven he could probably avoid by getting away from Amberwroth’s duchy. Phealtians he was certainly likely to encounter again. These guys were technically the good guys, according to Hah’roo. If he could clear this up now, who knows, maybe someday they’d be on the same side of a fight.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

With a sigh, Joe clipped the manacle to his wrist. The moment the cold metal closed around his wrist, a message from Hawking seemed to creep guiltily into the corner of Joe’s line of vision.

You have failed to escape from the Order of the Golden Edict. Quest Failure [Elude the Hunt].

‘There goes fifty gold pieces.’ Joe silently bemoaned.

“Come, healer. We have a long walk. Keep up,” the gruff enforcer barked as he stalked toward the gangplank.

When the gap between himself and the dwarf reached a couple of Joe’s strides, a tug on his wrist nearly yanked him off his feet. Azbekt’s arm barely moved. The gulf between the warrior's Strength and his must be huge.

Your skill [Steadfast] has increased to rank 6

Joe had planned to say his goodbyes, but the dwarf’s inexorable march pulled him steadily across the ship. The myrmidon had given Joe all the allowance he felt Joe had earned. Now, it was time to go. Goodbyes were not part of the equation.

Yago’s long arm reached out toward Joe, stopping just short of grabbing hold of him. He could see the concern on the aresian’s face, but Joe just shook his head again and gave the big man a thump on the arm.

“It will be ok. Thank you. All of you,” he managed to announce as the force on his arm pulled him from Yago’s side. Joe was ready for it this time. Jogging, he closed the gap with the marching dwarf.

Azbekt hit the dock and made a sharp turn, bulling his way through the crowds. Joe had to jump off the gangplank so as not to end up in the bay.

“Easy up. Azbekt. Give me a second to get on the dock.”

“Keep up, healer. We have this whole district to cross, or we will be late. I hate being late.”

“Yeah, you said that already. But if you yank me off the dock, we are going to be even later.”

The enforcer just huffed and trudged forward, bulling his way through the mass of bodies on the pier. Joe quickly found it was easier to follow tightly in the enforcer’s wake. The few times he lagged to look at something, he had to struggle to catch back up. The myrmidon's force of presence and unrelenting march caused people to instinctively move out of his way.

There was one weird perk to being dragged behind the relentless armored juggernaut. The more the myrmidon yanked him around, the more surefooted Joe became as the Phealtian power-leveled [Steadfast] for him.

They left the wharves and seaside shops behind and marched along a lane with a variety of businesses. Joe was pulled past tailors, a bookbinder, a tea shop, a very wealthy-looking trading house, and several more establishments.

The street opened into a market square, where Joe saw dozens of stalls. He would have loved to look around, but Azbekt’s pace never let up. Joe sighed, reminding himself again this ridiculous misunderstanding would soon be over. They crossed straight through the market and onto another road, this one angling upward.

After another city block, the buildings on each side of the road changed from small two-story shops to a pair of massive ornate structures. On Joe’s right, the edifice was adorned with glittering obsidian pillars. On his left, the structure was made of tiled mosaics, patterned to look like the sea and waves.

As they entered the plaza beyond the two temples, Joe knew this had to be the Telemont Square Hah’roo had mentioned. All around the open area were dozens of churches. They came in all sizes, from the huge temple of the sea god right next to him, to small shrines, and even a few lone altars around a massive central fountain.

Joe could not help but gawk until the magical tether yanked on his arm. It was almost impossible not to stare at the stunning edifices. They ranged from beautiful to ominous. Even the most sedate of them elicited some emotional response. Joe felt drawn to a sandstone temple whose mural showed hundreds of people holding and supporting each other. He recoiled from a dark church made of sharp metal angles that spoke of pain and violence. He smiled at one that had pillars carved to resemble stacked ale barrels and a roof that seemed to be made of beer foam.

Azbekt finally deviated from his straight-line march. He had turned to angle towards a gray marble temple trimmed in both silver and gold. The building was made in perfect symmetry, each column precisely placed, every stair and corner perfectly straight. This building had the neoclassical look of an official city hall. It practically cried out ‘Order’.

As the myrmidon dragged him towards what had to be the temple of Phealti, Joe remembered Hah’roo’s warning.

“Azbekt, wait! I want to be judged by a Fourfold Court,” he announced to the broad back he had been following.

The warrior stopped so abruptly Joe almost ran straight into him. Azbekt spun on his heel and barked, “Who told you about the Fourfold Court? It had to be the galeling. Was it her?”

“Does it matter who told me? I want the Fourfold Court thing. I’m entitled to one, aren’t I?”

Azbekt didn’t answer. He just stood there glaring up at Joe like a pissed-off bulldog. “Well? Aren’t I?” Joe repeated questioningly.

Joe could hear teeth grinding from the enforcer’s jaw until the stout man finally spat out one pained word, “Maybe!”

“What do you mean maybe?”

“If you were a person, then yes, you are entitled to a Fourfold Court. If you are an outsider from across the Veil, then, no, no, you are not. The problem is I really don’t know which one you are,” the warrior growled loudly, smacking his fist against his mailed thigh. “ Your damn cloaking ability muddies everything up. This is why we need order. Knowing who fits in what bucket. Turning away that which does not belong. Keeping safe that which does. Without order, all is confusion and madness.”

Once again drumming his fingers on his leg, Azbekt worked the problem. When he finally met Joe’s eyes again, Joe knew the verdict hadn’t gone his way.

“I cannot prove you are a person. Therefore, I deny your claim. I will let my god decide your fate. We go to the Hall of the Celestial Throne.”

As Azbekt turned to resume his trek to the authoritarian-looking church, Joe planted his feet and flared [Steadfast].

“Wait. Wait! You can’t prove I’m NOT a person either. Don’t I get the benefit of the doubt here?”

“I should give you the benefit of the doubt over the Lord of Order I have sworn to serve. Don’t be ridiculous.”

With the barest of tugs, Azbekt broke his [Steadfast] enhanced balance, pulling Joe off his feet. He rolled onto his rump and tried to dig in his heels, only managing to be hauled behind the unrelenting champion.

“Get up, healer. I will drag you the whole way if I must. Only you will suffer for your obstinance.”

“Fourfold Court!” Joe yelled from the ground, sliding across the uneven paving stones behind the plodding Phealtian.

“Myrmidon,” a stately voice intruded as Joe slid past gray-furred man dressed in sand-colored robes standing beside them. “This is unseemly here in the Court of the Gods.”

“I will have him out of the plaza in a moment, Murrceeian. His choosing to make a spectacle of himself does not change my duty.”

They passed the central fountain, drawing ever closer to Azbekt's den of zealots. “FOURFOLD COURT!” he yelled, this time at the top of his lungs.

“CHAMPION! STOP!” a massive voice thundered across the square. “JUST WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Joe turned to see the towering form of a minotaur in bright red armor bearing down on them. The fury in the horned man’s eyes would have utterly terrified Joe if it had been aimed at him.

But it wasn’t; it was locked onto Azbekt.

For the first time in Joe's presence, the dwarf’s superior scowl of disdain fell away. It was hard to tell, given the dark red color of the Phealtian's skin, but Joe could have sworn the myrmidon’s face paled by several shades.

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