Ch: 106 Cultivating Chaos
Otho was down in the basement, not exactly sitting on a cushion, meditating among the softly rumbling chocolate mills. He had two ear cuffs on each lobe, powering the entire plant himself, while tucking one ankle behind his ear and perching on the other foot.
His eyes were mostly closed and his lips softly whispered his mantra over and over;
Oye cómo, va mi ritmo…
“Otho… are you ok? The kids usually share the load around… you don’t have to run all of it.” Ivy said softly. The old man was sweating and looked thin as a stick. His short silver hair was drenched, even his long, crazy eyebrows were limp and dripping.
“No my dear… This is going to break my bottleneck and expand my mana and qi channels significantly. Cultivation is a struggle against one’s own limitations.” He gasped, as the machines slowly wound down. “Come children, take your jewelry back. I’m done for.”
The green capped teens working the factory bustled over to take the earcuffs and got the machines back up to speed. They resumed their duties, smiling and chatting as they worked.
“I started the annual assessment of the older children this week… In a select few… their growth is nothing short of astounding. It took a while to isolate the common factor, this place.” He breathed in deep, savoring the rich aroma.
“The slow steady drain of these machines stimulates manna absorption and dispersal, while also stimulating the qi network passively. Even if they were not instrumental in producing this delightful confection…” He looked about carefully, as though searching for spies.
“These machines, as a cultivation tool, are worth their weight in silver. Even if they could do nothing else…”
“Back up Otho, you know how he gets… remember these are secret, orphan’s secrets.” Ivy huffed at the old priest. “I know you and Naiomi have been working together trying to breach gold rank…”
She grinned as a thought struck her. “Ask the Sweet Tooth guild to make her an honorary member. Then he won’t even think twice, never mind complain, if they vote her in, she’s in.”
“Ivy, you are a terrible sneak. I love it.” He bustled off to bathe and put the plan in motion. “This is going to be amazing!”
#
On a cool early morning in the basement of the Adventure compound orphanage, two elders toured the facilities.
“So this is the secret of the chocolate… Your mad boy is a worthy successor to that… man.” Naiomi sniffed deeply, enjoying an almost intoxicating rush of pleasure, just from the scent.
“Zygnos has passed on, no doubt troubling the peace of the next life, let us trouble him no more. My young friend is as chaotic, but of a very different tenor. Far less secretive and mercenary, even more unpredictable and less restrained by mortal fear and limitations.” Otho plucked a pair of truffles from a passing tray and handed one to the venerable healer.
“I think, if we embrace this boy, he will pay dividends far into the future… by the same token, he could be a terrible and implacable foe, if driven to extremes.”
“My goddess has not spoken on this, her will is as yet unclear. The other matter however… I wonder at the outcome of this discord in the pantheon. Craft stands silent, while War and Order argue expedience against the law. Neither has a moral leg to stand on and neither cares, beyond their own motives.” She savored the delicate, bittersweet confection and gave a tiny gasp of pleasure.
“He makes a strong argument…”
Otho got a prayer rug built for two out of his storage gift and placed an earcuff on each of the aged woman’s lobes, before applying one to each of his own.
They assumed meditative positions and began to fuel the devices, while softly chanting that damnably catchy mantra. Young chocolatiers worked around them chatting and joking as they labored, while their elders worked on a more rarified plane.
#
Gary was powering the boat, while Liam used his crossbow reloader to tap the poor boy out. He would launch a bolt for target practice whenever the mood struck him, or when his brother stopped sweating.
The mounted party trotted up the road under the influence of his gifts, managed by Becky, while Shai steered the boat. The kids were at their lessons, under Bannock’s surprisingly tender and gentle instruction.
The journey back to Port Clement took less time, since Khan and Luna were determined to empty Gary out and wring every drop of energy from his trembling, cramping, pain-wracked body.
“Will he be spent too thoroughly tae summon the house? I dinnae ken if I hae enough, wi him empty. I should rather nae sleep in the boat.” Shai demanded at lunch. “I hae… other plans as well…”
“We’ve dragged him through the briars long enough, let the poor boy rest until time to camp… we can always strap him into the spinning machine” Khan chortled.
“Going soft man… we could whip a few more pints of sweat out of him today…” Luna complained with a satisfied smile.
#
Shai found the boat responsive, nimble and remarkably stable. Likewise, she found a subtle confidence and casual competence suffusing her every move at the tiller and ‘throttle’ as Gary called it.
“I do quite fancy this boating life… we must build a bigger boat.”
“This is maximum size love, it barely fits in my house. I don’t have a specific mass limit, but the size of object I can contain is limited by the aperture in my… that sounded… never mind.”
He mulled that for a while, with a banjo on his knee.
#
Angbold got out of the carriage after a jarring, bone grinding ride down the river road and through Port Fallon.
Escorted by a pair of taciturn mercenaries from the cult of War, they moved much more slowly than he had with the Adventurers.
War’s cultists took few chances and managed their travel with bureaucratic rigidity. They would ride so many miles, walk a specific distance, stop for a scheduled break. Rinse and repeat until time to camp. The slow, monotonous pace was maddening.
Finally, he staggered into his own home and into a nightmare. Messages, baskets of them, from all over the region.
‘...chocolate appearing on the market in Herndon Town, gutting sales during the critical Spring Festival.’ The sales report attached to the note was horrifying. Heardon was down forty three percent compared to the prior year, the note was direct and unambiguous.
“Resolve this master Angbold… by any means necessary.” The final missive read, master Unthal of Herndon pressed so firmly with his pen, that the parchment was gouged and torn in spots.
Similar demands, complaints and threats from four other towns and half a dozen trade vessels asking why their exclusive distribution contracts were not profitable anymore.
His own ledgers and reports, filed by his second during his infuriating journey showed an even more dire outlook. Orders canceled or delayed, raw cacao prices rising significantly, while prices and sales of processed chocolate fell off precipitously.
A deeply distressing memo signed by guild councilwoman Isheen, directly from the capitol left him sweating and lightheaded. “...immediate action is required… specialist incoming… full cooperation.”
Angbold bathed and changed from his rumpled, travel stained robes, mastered his emotions and swept out into his city with the air of a man in complete control…
The streets were bustling and excited, filled with the kind of life and energy a sleepy backwater like Wheatford would never know. Angbold walked the familiar streets, answering greetings from his equals with smiles.
As he swept through the crowd, letting the rabble part before him when a familiar, spine chilling, clacking noise came from a side street.
A young teen boy in common workman’s clothing and a green silk cap rolled up the smooth paved streets with a bag slung over his shoulder. He stood on one of those damnable wheeled boards and was passing out brightly wrapped packets that made Angbold’s blood boil and his mouth salivate.
“Stop! Stop that child! Criminal! Seize him!” The merchant lord’s shout sent the child bolting off at astounding speed, weaving and sliding on his board as he dashed into the tangled streets. The only traces left behind were smiling faces and sticky brown fingers in the crowd of gossiping peasants.
“The Sweet Tooth guild says heloooo!” The young hooligan sang as he vanished into the press.
#
They dropped anchor in the little cove by their meadow outside of Port Clement, after a solid day of travel. Moving at the fastest clip the horses could manage, while under Gary and Shai’s influence was disorienting for everyone.
Gary dove in and swam to shore, once more in his terrible bootyshorts, to Shai’s childlike delight. He spent a few moments toweling off, while being catcalled by his rowdy woman. She jeered when he summoned clothing around himself, once more grateful for his storage gift.
A few short, but hard rocking minutes later, the house and dock appeared, while the tule fog rose from the earth to conceal his workings.
“Damn your sneaky ways!” Becky snapped in amused agitation. “I never get to see it appear…”
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“I can’t help it… I’m shy!” He sang, while the riders trotted up and the boat made fast to his home. A stone fountain in the garden shot cold, crystal clear water in a tinkling arc. Pooling in the basin, it formed a small stream that joined the bath’s overflow channel and ran out into the estuary.
“There’s a natural spring under here… that feels tingly!”
#
The townsfolk watched that party of Adventurers come rollicking up the road, accompanied by their cheerfully noisy boat just as the fog began to rise. Even the thick, sticky, springtime tule fog couldn’t stop gossip and news from spreading.
#
Maisie and Able Knubbel were enjoying their newfound prosperity and notoriety. She would only offer high handed and obviously evasive statements about how; “I simply couldn't betray her ladyship’s trust…” or “...I dared not inquire too deeply, these are dangerous times.”
“Is it the insane candy pirates, or the mad Adventurers who rented your pasture?” Jemma Luknow demanded of her stubborn neighbor. “You simply must tell!”
Able puffed contentedly on his pipe while his wife put her friend and rival garden society member through the wringer. The bloodless slaughter was supremely entertaining. His own friends were endlessly pressing drinks on him at the tavern, trying to loosen his jaw. A wasted effort on a man who enjoyed good beer and knew nothing, by choice.
Able was deeply incurious as to who had given him this bounty, preferring blissful ignorance. When he stumbled home in the evening mist and found his wife holding court and abusing her friends he sat down to enjoy the show.
“I heard they were here to slay some monster…” Brenda Franz whispered to Imogen Whelton, who breathlessly gasped, excited and titillated by the aura of danger.
Bandt Miller was saying; “...trade guild war I wager, Patissiers against this upstart Sweet Tooth gang.” to Auggie, the local chicken farmer.
Augustine Moua the poulterer had some ideas of his own… and a basket of brightly wrapped treats to help make his case. “Their chocolate is divine… My wife says it's better than any she has ever tasted. Perhaps you can help judge?”
The wink he threw Able before surrendering the basket to the grasping hands of the curious gossip circle said it all. Some men just enjoy having chaos in their lives.
They shared Able’s pipe beside the humble fireplace in the cheesemaker's small, comfortable home. Several of his neighbors, men and women of middle age and civic responsibility, giggled and moaned with pleasure at his kitchen table. Bright paper refuse and brown stained smiles were all around.
“What was that about Auggie? You changing jobs?” Able asked his slightly stoned friend.
“My cousin’s kids are in the orphanage in town, I can’t afford to adopt them out of indenture, or even foster one…” He smiled sadly and collected his basket and empty wrappers. “I can help them with this though. They joined this new candy guild, maybe they can find a way out for themselves…”
“The guild’s candy tastes like ass, is this really that good?” The goat farmer asked softly, watching his very pregnant wife watch him… with chocolate on her lips and a very hungry look in her eye.
His friend slipped a few of the brightly colored packets to his host. “Try one, save the others for Maise, trust me. My wife is hoarding them like a squirrel in autumn.” Moua rose to his feet, slightly awkward in his gait.
“You all right? My tenants have a priestess of Healer with them, I’m sure…” Able began.
“Leilani has been… restless, since she first tried this stuff. So I’m a little sore… in places.” He mumbled, his dark, round cheeks flushing a deep red. Before he could be forced to explain, a knock at the door startled the drowsy gathering.
#
Angbold found things at his guild compound even worse than he had feared from the reports. Prior orders, placed months ago in anticipation of a busy spring season, were stacked up everywhere.
Sacks of cacao and sugar, crates of processed cocoa and chocolate loomed in unsteady towers in the warehouse. His account ledgers looked even worse, setting his purchase contracts to pay out at market price on delivery day usually netted slight additional returns, with the risk of some volatility.
This time the tactic bit back hard, driving his margins into the red, as raw cacao shot up in price. Meanwhile, chocolate of absurd quality appeared as if by magic, flooding the market… Worst of all it was bartered for goods, instead of hard coin, dropping the market price through the floor.
The merchant lord sagged at his desk and wheezed just a little. Once he had his emotions under control he staggered out into the gathering mist with ink stained fingers and a hollow feeling in his stomach.
His door closed behind him, as his butler shot the bolt home for the night. “See I am not disturbed Fritz, this has been a trying journey. Poloma, I will dine in my chambers.”
The maid scurried off to relay his orders, while Fritz delivered the handful of messages that had been delivered while he was working. Each was a variation on the same theme, more or less dire but similar in tone.
Finally, he entered his private chambers and aimed his steps for the chair by the fireplace. His servants had banked the coals carefully, so he placed a little fuel on and gave the bellows a few puffs.
“Lovely, now we can have a chat!” The figure in all concealing black robes said, from his favorite chair.
#
A dark figure in robes stood on the Knubbel’s doorstep. Her elaborately embroidered garments were a riot of spring blooms and twining vines. The beautiful, shining smile above those robes was equally inviting. The girl swept a very polite curtsey to the gathered citizens, bobbing her glossy, beaded plait to her elders.
“Hello, I am Becky, apprentice Adventurer of Ginger Dreadnought, we will be pulling up stakes in the morning and heading out of town. I’ve come by to invite you for dinner with our family… please, bring everyone if you wish, we have plenty. Your children too…”
She faded into the mist with the sweet sound of harp music. “Come on by, don’t forget the youngsters.”
“That would have been creepy if she wasn’t so cute…” Ionathe Rosas muttered as she gathered her shawl and stood. “I have to know!” She dashed off to get her husband and daughter with a soft giggle.
#
By the time full darkness nestled over the city, most of the residents of the small market ward on the outskirts were at the inn. Music and light in the distance drew a few curious or adventurous townsfolk in through the fog, though nearly all stayed safely indoors.
“No skeeters… none at all…” Blanche Khalifa muttered to her husband Mohhammed, while they wandered the garden and admired the fountain. Paper lanterns and a happy bustle of neighbors and friends new and old made the place a whimsical fantasy in the misty night.
When morning came, the people of the ward gathered to wander the now empty meadow. Only a small, stony pool and a stream of cold, crystal clear running water remained to prove they had ever been there.
#
Seahorse sailed up the shallow sea, skirting the coast a few dozen yards out. Once more the poor fool was powering the whole arrangement. Liam had disengaged the crossbow latch, now the reloader was just a spring bender that essentially let Liam pump Gary’s manna pool dry with very little effort.
“The guys said I should dip a few non orphan locals in my pool, to muddy the waters a little. Now the gods and spirits will have a fistfull of other kids to offer untainted Contracts to.” He said from his seat on the deck amidships. Already his cushion felt like it was stuffed with pebbles, as each tiny wavelet battered his backside.
“Less talking, more meditation.” Tawny sang from the bow, where she and Becky were having a fine time, basking in the sunshine.
The horses were getting a good workout, with Khan and Luna riding and the rest running free. The long, flat, coast road only departed from the water briefly and occasionally. Usually when some smaller stream entered the sea and required a bridge to be set back upstream.
Marshes and rocky shores sped by, as the band of kids whistled, strummed and plucked along. Port Fallon came into sight as the horse party climbed one of the few highlands. The boat crew saw the city lighthouse as the sun began to sink.
They made fast to a simple dock jutting from a clearing near the dock ward and Luna slipped out. “I know the owner of this dock. Go ahead and set up, I’ll be right back.” She vanished into the foggy evening as the low drone of the fog horn began.
Becky settled in on the bow and watched her brother and sister carefully. She opened her aura sense fully, embracing the fog and gathering mist into her aura.
With her inner eyes wide open, she watched the lovers dance and sway through a complex conjuration ritual disguised as a song and dance. The dance space described by their bodies became a ritual circle, abstract and untethered, but no less potent for that.
With every beat, note and chord, they strung a curtain of obscuring magic around their spell. Deceptive, sneaky and cheekily sly, the mages teased and tickled the emotions and senses of the viewer to distract and delight.
Even knowing the trick and seeing how it worked, Becky completely missed the point where the house became a house rather than a dream in fog and magic.
“You two suck!” She jeered, while helping the little ones ashore.
Luna returned an hour later, carrying a lantern and leading a small platoon of teenagers and a few dozen adults in working folks garb.
The adults were tough looking and seemed less… open than the wheatford kids were accustomed to.
“Local kinfolks, kids. Elder Polina heads the Orphan’s League in the market ward. These are our nieces and nephews.” She nodded to indicate the nervous looking teens at the garden gate.
“Amy, Wilford… go get ‘em!” Gary barked, while striking up a tune.
Catch a falling star
and put it in your pocket,
Save it for a rainy day…
A tiny, bright blue guided missile streaked for the kids, trailing Wilford and Becky behind. Her battlecry stunned her prey, leaving them at her mercy.
“I’m Amy… do you know any songs?!”
#
“Ahh, much better…” Shai’s boy sang, while playing some easy listening jazz guitar chords behind Tawny’s tinkling keys.
The house and bath were bustling and warm, hard faces eased and things got smoothly mellow, when the veterans huddled around a pipe and started to swap stories.
Becky was holding it down in the bath, letting the kids know what to expect when the deities and spirits come knocking in their dreams.
“Take your time and choose wisely, there are a few new cults in the game now. I’m not going to tell you Knowledge is the best one…”
#
Khan rode out at dawn to negotiate with the Port Fallon guild Master and the director of the orphanage. They had a quiet breakfast meeting in the dining hall. A far more subdued and regimented affair than in Wheatford, War and Order held sway in this place and it was noticeable.
“...Very well. I care not.” Heather was a tall, lithe and very dangerous woman in early middle years. Dark lustrous locks and pale skin drew eyes wherever she walked. Hard green eyes and a dangerous reputation, kept even her most ardent admirers very polite indeed.
A guild master or mistress of the Adventure guild was no one’s pushover, whatever the guild’s current state.
“Don’t cause any trouble… though I hardly imagine I need tell you that. Did you finally make an honest woman of Luna, or is she still stringing you along for your horse?”
“She tripped and fell into a wedding ring, now it won’t come off, poor thing is stuck with me.”
“Lies!” Old Ferris of War cackled. “I had a chat with Annie, as I hear it, Luna caught you in the stable and seduced you! She had to marry you to save your reputation from ruin, the poor dear.”
As if on cue, the entire orphan population turned from their meals and jeered at him. That was more like it.
“Once my Ducklings are set up in the back lot, send these filthy wretches by for a bath… we will be in town for a day or two.”
“That young wisp Mikkel sent a cryptic note about that… he recommends it. Shouldn’t you be running your guild hall, boy? Not roaming the countryside with a pack of greenies…”
“This is my whole guild, you old scoundrel. Should I sit in my office watching my hair fall out?” He snapped back with a grin.
Young ears all over the dining hall tuned in to listen to the guild masters.
“This job won’t make your hair fall out boy, being guild master and running the compound is easy… it’s adventurers, they are the problem… attend me! Young whelps! I have a name for every scar and mark, every lump and crick…” The orphans all groaned softly and went back to eating.
“The ingrown toenail on my right big toe is named Herbert, after the big idiot that stepped on my toe in a hobnailed boot! Who wears boots in the shower? My right eye trembles side to side, I named her Stella, cause she cracked my eye socket with a mace in training…” He went on for a while, listing and naming complaints eventually the old coot began to wind down.
“...And I just sprouted a brand new hemorrhoid… I’m wondering if its name will be Khan…”
“Put some ointment on that…” He said with a wink and a twitch of that perfect mustache. “You will be meeting that inflamed, throbbing vein soon.”
#
“…child’s mother is a full priestess of Craft, you have no right to interfere…” Theo was blustering on and on.
“Priest Theophus, even if Miriam were the child’s mother in the flesh, a child duly surrendered to the orphanage is a child of the Adventure guild.” The duke said very slowly and carefully. “That is the law.”
“Then foster the child as was originally agreed!” Theo barked, raising an eyebrow from the burly nobleman.
“I agreed to no such thing.” Otho replied with a cold and distant smile. “I said I would consider fostering the child when my young proteges have returned, not to whom and certainly I made no bargains. I wonder that you are so desperate… Do you have some agenda in this?”
Otho mulled that for a while, infuriating the younger priest.
“We will not be coming to an agreement. This matter is adjourned until the interested parties are present.” Duke Leonid used his ‘I am the law’ voice .
Theo looked around the room with dramatic flair, peering into the corners. “What other interested parties? Otho’s nonsense about asking the child’s opinion?” he blustered.
“Bring the whelp then, if it can even speak.”
“The child has been sent for treatment, a specialist is needed for his unique condition. He will return sooner rather than later.”
Otho’s smug and satisfied attitude stank in Theo’s nostrils all the way back to his workshop temple.
#