Ch: 109 Squaring The Circle
Cultivation sucked, it sucked hard… though, Gary could feel some results already, beyond the groaning mana hangover behind his ears. All his pools felt deeper, richer and more… bubbly.
Interface was quiet on the topic, but his internal mana, etheric, health and stamina pools were carbonated and brighter than before, glowing softly in the corner of his eye. The baths in the real world as well, they felt warmer, deeper and fizzy.
A predawn dip to clear his head and a little quiet time in the workshop was the key. In a shadowy corner, his brewery waited, softly fermenting along.
His ability to summon simple equipment was deliciously over the top. The mad musician reveled in finding sneaky ways to do mundane things. Conjured brewery equipment? Yes please! Sanitizing enchantments and magical temperature control? Thank you! Bottles that recycle themselves? Absolutely!
Shai’s trading activities kept her busy and flush with coin, Gary was operating on barter, more for raw materials to fuel his arts than for profit. Auctioning another silver stink ring through Khan or Mikkel would refill his coin bag if and when he needed it.
All that barter wound up in the workshop, doing something somewhere, like the brewery. His excess fruit from the garden, got pressed in small batches and fermented in conjured vessels. He made cider, wine, brandy or moonshine from those, filling racks against the wall with labeled carboys of foaming hooch.
Grenadier pear brandy and applejack were his only successful spirits so far, the rest wound up in his barrel of ‘wash’ for distilling into moonshine.
He had gallons of the mixed liquor, distilled from his waste products and failed experiments. It was a clear and nasty hooch, at fifty to sixty percent alcohol. The stuff was a treat for dryads and other corporeal fae, but nearly undrinkable by humans.
Grain and herbs were always welcome in his trading post as well. Wheatford’s farmers had a lot of grain to spare, bartering for some repairs with a few hundredweight of wheat or barley was a grand deal for them.
The horses and ponies got their fair share… and more, but most of the grain went to his brewery. Beer was always a safe bet in any town, it was weak beer before noon, after that… Shai and Liam were careful to keep things orderly. So far Theo was the only person to feel the banhammer.
He whistled a gay tune as he thumped, probed, measured and tasted his way through the wines, ciders and beers. When Tallum came downstairs, Gary was humming the ‘Ode to Joy’, as he poured a measure of clear spirits into a bottle of deep pink liquid.
“Buddy! Just in time, taste this plum cordial for me…” He grinned happily. “Missed ya bro! Where's Ivy and Desi?”
“Oh! That’s sweet!” The giant sucked his teeth, savoring the rich jammy flavor and sharp bite of spirits. “Is that… liquor? Like the dryads drink?”
“Kinda, this is not nearly as potent… and won't strip the lining from your bowels or melt your teeth. This is the base for my healing potion, I’m still looking for a few things.” He took the bottle back from the big man, while he was refilling his cup for a second time.
“Slow down big guy… It’s not illegal here, but Shai will kick both our asses if you stumble up drunk. Did you forget about Ivy and Desi? Are they still on the boat with Esperanza?”
“Ohh.. yeah… sorry. That’s really tasty. Esperanza is docking, they will be here in a while. Otho had to stay in town, so he sent Daniel along. Poor guy gets seasick, he’ll be up with the others, when he can stand up. I just ran up to let you guys know we got here.”
Gary stared in mute amazement for a long moment. “That was like almost fifty words…” He took a sip of his proto potion and swished it around. “Nope, not this stuff…”
He grabbed his friend and headed upstairs. “Breakfast, a bath, some catching up, that’s what we need!” He jabbered as they stepped into the common room.
“Shai! Bring us food woman! Menfolk are hungry from their labors!” Shai’s conjured snowball splatted into his face with uncanny accuracy, silencing his prattle.
#
The garden and grounds of the Rummel manor were sprawling and tranquil. Streams and ponds trickled and splashed everywhere. Islands, connected by causeways and bridges of every description, held fruit trees, or a gazebo, or a well planned herb garden in raised beds.
Working on the grounds looked to be an absolute pleasure for the small platoon of men and women chatting as they labored.
Julius Rummel, duke of Port Clement and the small but prosperous domain by the shallow sea, was not often in residence. At seventeen he felt more at home practicing his archery in the field. When the weather permitted, he spent as much time as he could in the countryside, ‘touring his domain’.
Arrows in flight were a joy to watch, while the satisfaction of neatly skewering his target with a shaft from a hundred yards was a whole different thrill.
Generations of warrior Rummels and avid huntsmen had left the ancestral manse a veritable graveyard of taxidermied monstrosities. Long tradition steeped everything in the palace, soaking into the stones and smugly demanding compliance from all that entered. That was why Julius always preferred the garden and grounds.
He flicked another arrow casually downrange, plucking a straw filled sack the size of an apple from the branches of a tree. A servant scampered over with a long pole and hung a fresh target from the branches, before hiding in his dugout again.
“Your grace, it is time to get dressed for your audience with duke Belen’s investigation team.”
Phillip’s voice was so smooth and mellow, yet it slipped through his focused state and rattled him out of his gift like an icicle down the collar.
“The new gardener is still skittish, send him some wine with dinner please… I will have to ask my grandmother to stop telling that story. I was only seven at the time… old Lathrop doesn't even have a scar.”
The young lord sighed deeply. “Is this that band of ‘candy pirates’ the maids have been gossiping about?”
“No your grace, I have delayed placing them on your schedule, they are currently in conflict with the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers. Duke Belen is expected to adjudicate their case sooner rather than later. Best your grace stay at a discreet distance.”
“So this is the other group. Very well… is it the informal attire?” He asked, hopefully.
“I am afraid not, your grace… the valets are awaiting you in the dressing chamber.”
When the representatives from Wheatford appeared, he was in his fourth fanciest robes of state, trying to forget the itchy gold thread embroidery around the collar.
They were an odd pair. A short, stocky young blonde man in the gray robes of a simple Order priest and a white veil was obviously Keith Belen. The eldest son of the duke, traveling under a penitent’s veil carried a good deal of weight, but subtly.
His companion held himself with almost unnatural stillness, seeming to fade into the background every few seconds, even while speaking. The flat black, featureless robes of an Adventure guild specialist did little to help with the issue.
“We will interview members of your grace’s household with permission only. If your grace wishes, your grace, or a representative may be present during all conversations.”
“My senechal will be available to sit in on any interviews, he has my full confidence and will be handling this issue in my stead.” The duke nodded slightly, signaling the end of the discussion.
He stood from the abominable ducal seat as soon as the audience chamber door closed, rubbing his backside and mumbling. He shifted the itchy, heavy robes and began taking mincing steps to his personal quarters.
The wooden slippers of state pinched his toes and slipped on the slick tiles if he took a full step… cursed things. As his valets helped him disrobe, Phillip appeared.
“It seems your grace’s ‘candy pirates’ left town. Word in the low quarters is… complicated, though the gist seems to be that they will return.” He shrugged helplessly. “They simply vanished in the night. The orphanage is as closed-mouthed as the Adventure guild your grace.”
“What has the orphanage to do with this? I thought they were adventurers.” He slipped into his casual robes with a sigh of relief, now only slightly constrained and moderately itchy.
“The ‘candy pirates’ seem to be a band of orphan Adventurers, Orange Dreadlock or some such. Pre indenture Adventurers your grace, highly unusual, the oldest is apparently to be indentured this feast of War.”
Phillip’s conservative dissatisfaction dripped from his voice. “All the more reason to keep them at arm’s length.”
#
Shai and the kids took a stroll down to the dock ward in the morning fog with Tallum. Liam insisted on coming along in full kit. He agreed to leave his spear stowed in his armor’s enchanted storage in town, wearing a short, straight sword at his hip. Gary only won that concession by promising that another armored person would come along.
Their rings created a pool of fresh air, while Gary and Liam’s Armor clad forms kept a circle of empty space around the family as well.
“Don’t like this whole bodyguard situation. This shit needs solving.” Gary grumbled from within his helm and insect mask. “If I knew I had to wear it in town I’d have gone with something less… ominous.”
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“Liar!” Becky’s laugh of derision cut deep, wounding him to the core. “You would have picked something even spookier, ya weirdo.”
“Just cause you’re right… that’s no reason to be mean.” He stepped into the shade of a merchant’s stall and emerged a moment later in workman’s clothes, accompanied by the tall figure in red insectile armor.
“Ahh much better.” He murmured, tapping a small drum at his hip with his thumb as he strolled with the family.
“Gary, who be wearing that armor?” Shai asked quietly when he joined the group.
“A friend wanted to stretch his legs… he can’t really fight or anything, but he can take my armor for a stroll… Thanks Jimi!” He waved a cheerful salute to his doppelganger in red lobster plates.
After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
He sang from inside the helm with a smooth bow.
“That’s creepy Gary.” Becky whispered.
“Only cause you know there's a ghost inside, nobody else will figure it out.” He answered quietly. “He just wants to look around a little… and play my guitar a bit.”
He pulled his pipe out and puffed one of Liam’s herbal blends into fragrant clouds of sweet smelling smoke.
“Sides’, I can free up my hands as long as he’s playing.” He puffed smugly, drawing the gaze of the older folks in the market. His long ‘churchwarden’ pipes always drew attention, in Wheatford and elsewhere.
It took some doing, but eventually Gary talked Liam into branching out into tasty smokables to go with the silly long stemmed pipes he had for trade.
His growing supply of garden and foraged herbs, as well as the interesting things he bartered for made for a nice variety of blends, both in Liam’s medicinal teas and smokables for funzies.
Cut and dried coltsfoot and rose petals, moistened with a few drops of honey was a delight, even without any additional herbs. It smoked and fumed with thick fragrant clouds of billowing white. The smoke filled the mouth, leaving a warm, sweet tingle and a fresh taste.
He strolled with his woman and kids, puffing and humming along to sweet music from the armored musician following them.
They bumped into Esperanza and her crew, minus Falco, who was lingering with the boat in cleaner waters. Ivy dashed over to hand Desi off to Shai’s grasping hands.
“Ranza! Guys! Let’s get back home and catch up, will Falco be ok?”
“There is a local pod of dolphins he joins when this one must come ashore for a time, they will guard Esperanza at anchor for us.” She murmured, hugging Shai close. “Falco learnt your trick of whistling up the shellfish, he is quite popular with his kin.”
The boat crew did a few double and triple takes, when Gary’s armor strolled by, playing his guitar. “That’s Jimi, he’s just visiting, you’ll meet him and the others at home… let’s get moving, Desi needs to get settled in.”
Jimi ran a few exultant chords through his blues ramblings and led the way home while improvising in shades of G minor. “If he stops playing, I have to start,” Gary mumbled as they walked. “...either way, I’m running dry.”
Shai and Becky rolled their eyes at him and joined Jimi’s jam, helping to keep Gary afloat with their own gifts and enchantments.
Becky’s harp firmed up the shade inside his armor, taking a lot of the load right away, as the spirit manifested more fully.
Shai started pumping up mana and stamina regeneration for everyone within the sound of her instrument, while getting a bit of a dance going. Port Fallon’s market ward took a decidedly joyful mood for a while. Between the two of them they kept the group bouncing along home.
The jolly troupe frisked and skipped along and found themselves in the garden, introducing the new little one to Annie in a short time. Her snuffling nose and tickling lips set him giggling immediately.
Nara murred with pleasure as they tumbled in through the garden gate and headed for the private bath. “I shall leave you to your baptism rituals humans… but someone must needs make breakfast… I have no skill with cookpots or what have you.”
“Come Nara, I’ll make you hot rice with shaved dried tuna… you will love it and it’s so easy to make.” Herlick grabbed Bannock and the cat woman and dragged them into the kitchen, as the family vanished behind a cloud of fragrant steam.
#
“I thought Daniel was coming…” Gary asked once everyone was bobbing about comfortably.
“He took to the waterways… poorly. Some helpful locals carried him to the temple of Healer for his seasickness.” Yusef said from somewhere in the mist. “I did tell him that lad-… Tawny was here. He seemed reluctant for some reason.”
“Mmm, he courted Tawny for a brief time around late summer, he prolly feels weird about coming over.” Ivy sighed softly, with only her face above water. “This feels even better… more… bubbly?”
Gary sang out from the drifting steam. “Khan and Luna have been riding me like a rented mule. I didn’t know ‘cultivation’ would make me feel like a draft animal.” He complained cheerfully, while watching the three little ones paddle around in the depths. “Can’t argue with the results though.”
#
They spent the morning lounging around, while the kids played and got to know each other. The youngest Bather’s language gift started up, relieving much of his shyness. Desi had a cheerful disposition, whenever he was with the others. His smile faltered when he thought he was unobserved, or alone for even a brief time.
He ran and chattered with Amy and Wilford. He played with the local kids when they came over from the orphanage dorm at lunch, but with adults he was silent and reserved.
Only Tallum and Ivy could get him to say more than a word or two. Together they coaxed the current record out of him. ‘May I go play with the others?’, was the longest speech by a mile. With Tawny near, he fell entirely silent and awkwardly still.
After multiple attempts to gently coax the boy over, Tawny cornered Ivy in the instrument showroom.
“He is evidencing symptoms of emotional trauma, but I cannot approach him, the poor dear closes up like a snappingclam whenever I come near…”
“You know lord Ali? He went out with a platoon of…”
Ivy repeated as much of the story as she knew, leaving Tawny flushed and annoyed.
“I thought better of him. Ali’s house is staunchly conservative, but to abandon a child is…”
She shook her head in disappointment. “I have little doubt that the child was in a semi conscious state as he drew himself fully into this realm. He no doubt heard all and understood much of what was said. Such an appalling lack of compassion is deeply troubling.”
Tawny vanished into her room and returned a few minutes later, almost unrecognizable. Her white veil of lace remained, floating above bronze shoulders and a snug bodice of golden brown wool. Desi visibly relaxed, once the golden robes were out of view.
Slashed skirts of chocolate brown and golden yellow swirled at her ankles as she skipped over to the pianoforte and began tinkling the keys. “Tallum, what’s that tune you keep whistling… the children seem to love it.”
Tallum shrugged shyly. “I dunno, I kinda dreamed it… Otho says it’s in some other language… I don’t understand.”
He whistled the melody softly as Tawny began to tease the song out of him. In an instant, Gary was there, smiling madly.
“Oh, no… I never sing or play this song… where did you hear this?” He demanded gently, looking worried.
“I kinda dreamed it… right before Ali brought Desi to the orphanage.” He grumbled a bit on the lord’s name, and dropped his title, garnering a pleased smile from Ivy.
“Yeah, That guy sucks. You should have seen his face when Otho refused to give little Rio back to him. I thought his wife was going to explode.” Ivy giggled and smirked. “Miriam of craft is an awful bitch, always has been.”
“Why don’t you play this song Gary?” The big man rumbled, as the bass line came rolling out like a carpet, covering the house and garden. Tawny caught the wave and rode it along, pulling everyone else in, as Liam and Dannyl draped his gift over themselves carelessly.
“First… I didn’t do any of that…” He looked over his friends and family, all woven together in threads and strands of invisible, but very present magic. Even Desi and the kids were all snug in the chaotically orderly magical soup. “That was all you guys.”
They stopped to ponder that for a moment, in the sense that they considered it. The music continued, as they drew themselves into the song.
“That’s pretty far down on the list of ‘Ways Gary Is Weird’...” Becky sang finally. “Let’s stay on topic. What’s with this song? You seem… twitchy.”
“It has some baggage from my home… the last word, it can be a nasty slur if it’s said, or heard the wrong way. The composer meant it in all the right ways… but it’s complicated for me.”
Gary wandered over to his display and took down a set of two hide topped drums, connected at the belly. He rattled his fingers across them, distracting ‘Rio’ immediately.
“He doesn’t remember much of where we come from… but some things are just too sweetly memorable… like calypso and latin jazz.”
The tiny boy climbed into his lap and began caressing the drum heads with a smile on his face. “Joy is already nosing around… Just like when Ducky met you kiddo.” He winked at Becky whose hands were too full of harp to make any rude gestures.
Oye cómo va
Mi ritmo
Bueno pa' gozar
Mulata
The simple lyrics bubbled across the group’s lips on its own, quickly infecting the others. “See? So sweet and catchy. Lemmee bring in a couple experts.”
Gary sat the boy on his stool with the bongos and took a seat on the rug by the fire.
In a moment two shadows began to pool and coalesce coaxed along by Becky’s harp. One slipped up the stool, appearing under Desi, shadowy hands joining the boy’s on the drumheads, enfolding the child like a cloak of warm, comfy darkness.
The other stood beside Gary’s still, seated form, holding the madman’s guitar. They joined the music without hesitation, folding themselves in with consummate skill.
“Hi guys, you’ve seen the gang… Guys, my pals Tito and Carlos are gonna take this one for me.”
The pair of shadow musicians took control with effortless grace. When the song wound down the shades vanished, slipping back into the seated man on the rug with satisfied sighs.
“Uhh, we still don’t know what it means, it’s just sounds… smooth, sexy sounds.” Ivy complained while scooting closer to the big bassist and ducking under his arm.
Gary struck up the melody again, playing it softly on his guitar.
“Songs like this one, they’re like names, they don’t translate, they just are.” began to sing the simple chorus, in the common tongue.
Hey, whats goin on?
Do you like my rhythm?
It’s great for having fun…
He let the music continue as he spoke softly.
“That last word, it means ‘dark skinned woman’ or ‘woman of mixed race’, kinda like ‘orphan’... If it’s said with love, we feel that. Some people can’t say it without making it taste bitter, like poison.” He sat for a moment and ran the song through again, singing it in the original, and again in common. “Fuck it, new world new rules. It just means sexy lady here. Right Desi?”
Desi was still sitting on the stool, idly tapping the small bongos, nodding and smiling. “I like Rio. Can Tito come back to play?” He asked softly, but with greater confidence.
Gary stood and swept the boy up in his arms, drums and all. “Sure, let’s go downstairs and see what we can come up with… little brother Rio.”
Down in the shop the madman spent a peaceful and calm half hour carving, painting and inlaying trinkets in the tiny set of bongos. The bathers lounged on sofas and cushions, playing and chatting idly while he worked at his bench.
Rattle-tap, unique drum, enchanted, quality; uncommon. When played in proximity of a source of etheric magic, spirits and incorporeal entities may manifest.
He passed the modified instrument to the boy and stood with a happy groan. “Naptime! We head out tomorrow to make more noise. We haven't finished annoying Port Clement yet.” He announced happily.
“I’m not done here either. But they need to wallow in their own stench for a while. Let them taste fresh air and fresh candy when my kids roll by…” His evil laugh echoed in the workshop as he took a child in each arm and started upstairs.
#
Daniel got his feet back under himself quickly, once the whole world stopped swaying to and fro. Once tidied up and freshly dressed, he marched to the orphanage to have an awkward conversation.
“My apologies master Ferris, I am instructed to ask if you agree to the madman’s conditions. If you do agree, I will take over day to day operations and reorganize your curriculum to bring you to Wheatford’s standards. In two weeks I will depart, and you will resume full control.” He smiled awkwardly and continued.
“If you decline I am to become permanent manager of this orphanage, by order of duke Belen and count Fallon.”
The old man sat back in his chair and puffed on his newfangled long pipe. “Old age brings wisdom, boy… but also cranky intractability and resistance to change. I’ll learn your new ways and try some new things, but he made me an offer…”
Daniel put a small box on the desk and slid it over silently. “I was told to deliver that, if you agreed. Otho said to tell you; ‘That is a true Aroma Band™’, usable by anyone, A princely gift, if true.”
“Not a gift, a bribe…all nice and tidy.” He rang a bell on his desk, a moment later a young man slipped in the door and paused by the desk. “Give this to Heather, tell her it’s the real thing. If you lose that box, jump in the well and drown yourself, save me the effort.”
When he was gone, the old man sank back down in his chair. “There’s a trapdoor in the hills, it took over a box canyon and just kept growing. Damn thing smells so bad, when the wind is right, two villages have to evacuate. My best team tried, but couldn't get within a quarter mile.”
“You know, if you told the boy that, he might have just taken care of it for you… sometimes he even forgets to ask for payment, though the smith girl always remembers.” Daniel rose with a smile and shrugged. “Show me my quarters and we can get to work. Academic lessons are back in the curriculum.”