Ch: 116 Mama Told Me Not To Come
Gary was tidying up in the workshop, a simple process when the place bends itself to your will… he vanished all his conjured tools and Pocketed! The mundane ones, which sent them back to their places on the wall. Once again he found Cab’s baton in his hands, twirling idly.
Cab’s Rule Of Thumb: Baton, enchanted, Rarity: Unique, instructional tool.
Item enhances the charisma and aura range of wielder. Beneficial spells, gifts and enchantments gain bonus to effect and duration within aura range of wielder.
Wielder's and allies’ beneficial spells, gifts and enchantments gain bonus to duration and effect if target is in visual range of wielder. All benefits cease immediately if hostilities commence. Cannot be used in combat.
“Hii Dee Hii Dee Hooooo!”
“Huh, flavor text…” He muttered to himself. “Hey, Tallum… lunchtime… It’s spicy hellcrab ramen, with monkfish skewers.”
“Shai always said monster was delicious… I never believed her.” He moaned softly. “So many missed opportunities…”
“Regrets are just borrowed trouble from the past. We’re gonna make today count and tomorrow better watch its ass, cause we’re coming for it… Right buddy?” He clapped the big man on the shoulder and steered him for the stairs.
#
Kermal was in between Dannyl and Becky, in the common room holding a recorder and giving it a good try when they ambled upstairs. “Sounds good…” Gary came in with his big bass recorder and slipped in for a few rounds of the ‘Hay-Mowers Reel’. The swaying, upbeat number kept the locals dancing in something like a waltz, with more complex steps.
Slowly and gently the madman tightened his threads of magical influence, taking the reins from Becky. He twitched the beat faster, bringing Rio running, bongos in hand.
Shai abandoned the kitchen and her steaming kettle, she came twirling over in a flashing display of skirts and legs, when she felt a tango start.
Nara had been curled up on a settee by the fire, napping… suddenly she and the smiling giantess were the focus of a common room fallen still and silent; save for the music and the dancing pair.
Shai took the lead, stepping provocatively into Nara’s space. The graceful feline spun away, her colorful summer dress floating around her like dazzling floral smoke. They played cat and mouse for a while, trading roles seamlessly and laughing along with the pulsing, passionate music.
Nara swept by, to pluck Kermal out of the band, pulling him into their performance. He caught on quickly, playing the foil to the dancing women as they tried to outdo each other, trading him off at need.
Nara pivoted and spun around him with delicate grace and sly, subtle footwork. Shai used her height, strength and bells to somehow make him the lead dancer, as though he had a single clue what was coming next…
Yet, somehow his feet, hands and hips led her in a fast and breezy display. Like a tiny skiff, running over the waves before a following wind, he instinctively found his place. He traded hands for paws and back again in a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and music.
“Kermal Singh…” Aunt Harpreet’s icy whisper cut through the music and noise, sending him for a stumble between partners.
The small, doughty noblewoman in the foyer had Iron hard eyes and a voice that cracked like a muleteer’s whip. Her noble raiment shone and shimmered in the light of the open door, casting a long shadow over the room.
“Kermal Singh, exit this den of vice immediately… We will discuss what remains of your future at the manor.” Her disdainful gaze washed over the room, right up until it landed on Tawny and Rolf.
A short, burly teenage boy in the robes of a full order priest with golden hair and handsome, yet somehow pugnacious features was a solid clue. Seated beside him, the teenage girl, in the robes of an acolyte of Healer and a lace veil of white could be anyone… Save that she was too golden and beautiful to be anyone else.
Kermal was forgotten in a moment, dismissed from her mind as she keyed in on the young lord and lady heir.
“Acolyte Tawny of Healer, lord Rolf of order, Please accompany me to the Singh townhouse… we will find proper accommodations for you…” Her eyes snapped back to the young man, still gasping and breathless, but now pale and withdrawn as well.
“Kermal, fetch their baggage, aid the servants in their preparations, or whatever it is servants do. We depart this place when Acolyte Tawny and Lord Rolf are ready.”
Her soft and ingratiating smile returned, washing over the young siblings.
“Forgive this lapse honored clergy… I assure you the old duke Rummel would never have forced you to lodge in such a…” She shuddered over her entire body.
“You misapprehend, dowager countess Kaur… May I call you Lady Harpreet?” Tawny’s smile from behind that lace scrap gave the woman a chill for some reason, despite the warm morning sun, still beaming through the open door behind her.
“This is my home, lady Harpreet, I dwell here when traveling, as does my family. Young Kermal is my guest, he kindly agreed to elevate our humble gathering and keep lord Rolf company, as is proper.”
She rose and swept a very precise bow, exactly what was needed from a simple acolyte, to a dowager countess, encountered by chance. “Have you also come to join our celebration?”
The beautiful young priestess swept down into the foyer, stepping from her slippers, into waiting sandals on the stone pavers, as though performing a dance.
It was a dance; guitar, violin and harp music swelled softly, as the small golden woman gently manhandled the middle aged, sturdily disapproving matron.
Tawny slipped the matron’s shoes off and replaced them with pointy toed slippers, embroidered with tiny butterflies and flowers.
“This is a foreign tradition that we have adopted…” The young priestess murmured, as she swapped the woman’s shoes of misery for the most delightfully comfy footwear she had ever encountered.
A few experimental steps onto the gleaming floorboards later, her small entourage of minor nobles were changing their painful shoes and whispering excitedly among themselves… when her ladyship was looking elsewhere.
Somehow, dowager countess Harpreet Kaur found herself in slippers of fanciful design, seated at a table of polished oak and enjoying herself… all unwillingly.
Bowls of a hearty, spicy seafood soup landed on the table, garnished with fresh herbs and rich with crab and noodles. Hot rice, pickled vegetables and duskmoon pod edamame came with fried nuggets of some kind of juicy meat.
“…I think new things can be very exciting, as long as proper decorum is maintained.” Harpreet said softly, while not so secretly playing grabby toes in the plush lined slippers.
Fully engaged by the weakly disguised duchess heir and her brother, lady Kaur turned the schmooze factor to eleven and forgot entirely why she had come to the ‘dockside brothel’ in the first place.
“Port Clement is proud of our grand traditions… you have the apologies and regrets of the entire community for this slight.” She sipped her cocoa with a sigh of absolute bliss, savored a small cake drizzled with a sweet lemon sauce, as she spoke.
“Young duke Rummel is clearly in violation of the ancient rites of hospitality. I will find accommodations suited to your status and needs, the moment we arrive at my clan’s holdings in town.”
“Again, Lady Harpreet, this is my home. Not an inn or whatever you have been told. All of these people are my friends and comrades… you must be weary from your journey…”
The dreamy music continued, so soothing and relaxed, it floated in the background easing away the discomfort of travel.
#
Clouds of fragrant steam and swaying bamboo stalks harmonized with the softly rushing waters… the dowager countess of house Singh found herself floating at absolute ease in a vast garden bath unlike anything she had ever encountered. Hot water gushed into the enormous outdoor pool, jetting from a fissure in the stone wall of the house, as though some mysterious hotspring lay on the other side of that wall.
Surrounded by her coterie of minor house nobles and a few servants, they bobbed about together in a manner that should have shocked her into a towering moral outrage… Servants, bathing together with even a minor noble… even someone as lowly as that wretched…
“Kermal!” She gasped softly, as the cause of her furious journey returned to mind. Red rage came boiling back, much less intensely than before.
Perhaps the lad had not fallen into utter vice and dissipation, but that humiliating dance her spies had described was more than scandalous enough to ruin him for her purposes.
In the informality of the baths, Lady Trelawny Belen had removed her penitent’s veil, releasing lady Harpreet from that ridiculous tradition.
“Now that we can speak openly, lady Trelawny… my most sincere apologies for my nephew… he is uncouth and barely a member of the family at all. He will be severely disciplined… I doubt you will encounter him on future visits.” Icy venom dripped from her lips as she spoke of the lad.
“Generosity is often repaid with such betrayal… I should have left him in the orphanage. He is my cousin’s child by her second husband… She married a commoner if you believe it.” She shook her long, iron gray ringlets in despair.
“That is the thing about commoners… so terribly many of them, simply lying about.” One of the ladies tittered, heedless of the servants scattered around.
“You may find that in my home, titles matter little, please respect this tiny conceit of mine… we Belens are all a little moon touched they say.”
Tawny delivered a warm golden wink to the mouthy lesser noblewoman, shriveling her superior smile a bit.
#
Wrapped in long, fluffy robes and slippers of comfy but silly design, Harpreet Kuar’s party found themselves in a cozy and discrete section of the common room, taking a light snack of simple fare, seated on comfy, simple chairs.
Tawny held court effortlessly, disarming and defusing the small group of minor nobs with her golden charms and considerable titles.
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“Our long association with the mad wizard Zygnos has ended, with master Matteus’ sad passing…” Tawny said with a touch of sadness, which evaporated a moment later.
“His apprentice seems more than capable of carrying on our fine tradition, thankfully. If you don’t have a mad sorcerer on staff, I cannot recommend it highly enough.”
“I personally find his successor even more unusual and entertaining, though I did not know master Matteus well…”
Julius remarked from his place at the pianoforte, once more dressed as a common laborer, though one with style and good looks in spades.
Harpreet looked sour at the thought, though she attempted to conceal her distaste. It took a moment or two for her to process just who had spoken so freely, to her august company.
The lord at the keyboard smiled and chattered on while the mortification and horror of the situation slowly settled over her.
“I plan to adopt many exciting reforms in the coming week…” He sang cheerfully over a flurry of ragtime improvisation. “By the feast of water, I plan on having a whole raft of new plans in motion.”
“My lord…” Lady Harpreet had gone a little pale and rigid, shifting awkwardly in her seat. “Certainly no matter of such consequence should be bandied about in a comm…”
Her gentle sounding, but wickedly barbed complaint ground to a halt when Tawny slipped onto the bench beside the duke and began a duet.
“…rather, should we not bring these ‘reforms’ before your council of advisors and elders before anything… drastic is announced or begun?”
“Already done…” He had a fine voice, chanting along in time to the sprightly music made his words seem frivolous and gay. “Mam’a and Papa are in the private bath with cousin Phillip and the rest of my advisors… they arrived while you were soaking on the public side.”
A red haired giantess danced by the dowager countess’ table, her spotless apron of green striped cotton twirling as she laid a tea service down. She poured with grace and elegance that belied her massive frame, smiling radiantly.
“We do thank thee fer sending young laird Kermal tae our party, he be a rare fine dance partner in all.”
Her rough, hillfolk accent twisted in the noblewoman’s ears like a serrated dagger, but her service was exquisite.
Harpreet gave only the barest nod in reply, addressing Tawny instead. “Your servants are… unusually informal, lady Trelawny… is this also a custom of your clan?”
A large, bland looking man placed a tray of steaming morsels on the table. He was not nearly as gracefully as the giantess, but he was far less obtrusive.
“Once more you misapprehend, lady Harpreet. There are no servants in my household, they are my brother and sister… and your hosts in this home, at my request.”
The shining young woman’s mild and smiling reply sent new shivers up her spine.
“So this is an… Inn? A tavern?” She asked, in dawning horror. “Am I seated in a commoner’s hostel?”
“Ehh, kinda…” An odd sing-song and lyric accent sounded from a shadow nearby. “I think of it as my home… in which you are my guest… lady Harpreet Kaur.”
He moved from the shadows, becoming clear in her sight. He was still unremarkable, tall and dark haired, he smiled in a crooked and slightly disturbing way. With a subtle twist of his fingers, a tambourine appeared in his hand, slowly rattling.
“Gary, is this really the time?” Liam asked, looking nervously to the duke. That worthy simply smiled, as he tinkled the keys in the strange swaying mode the young man was thumping and chiming on his tambourine.
The tall man began a strange, rigid stomping dance, directed at the lady’s party. Lifting both hands high, he began taking wide dramatic steps in time and shimmying in a very odd way.
The giantess joined him, bringing a violin from nowhere and smiling beatifically. “I did watch this one wi ducky, some days agone boy… I dinnae understand much, but I did feel so much kinship wi brave Tevye.”
“Oh, my love it’s true… our lot is so mean and low…” He sang, still stomping and shimmying his hips in time with her jingling bells.
Drums and other instruments began lurking around the sonic edges, but the couple stayed at the fore, compelling the gaze of every person in the house. The man opened his throat wide and sang in a strangely rich and omnipresent tenor, hands upraised in supplication of the heavens.
Oh, gods, you made many, many poor people
I realize, of course, it's no shame to be poor..
But it's no great honor either!
His dance became more aggressive, as he stomped on the beat. Two tiny boys joined the dance, one holding a set of drums, the other, dancing with a sublime intensity and concentration on his childlike, grown man face.
If I were a rich man…
Yabba dabba dabba, dibby dibby dibby dum..
I wouldn’t have to work hard,
Biddy biddy, biddy biddy bum…
Shai joined in on the next verse, singing in harmony with her velvety throat and powerful lungs.
I'd build a big, tall house with rooms by the dozen,
Right in the middle of the town!
A fine tile roof, with real wooden floors below!
There would be one long staircase just going up…
And one even longer coming down.
And one more leading nowhere… just for show!
They traded off, back and forth, sassing and mocking the trappings of wealth, even as they performed in a well appointed room, with fine furnishings.
On the next round of nonsense rhymes, a sweet clarion voice joined, ‘yabba dabba’ and ‘biddy biddy bumming’ along, from the throat of a tiny girl in blue, perched on the duke’s shoulder. Like a monkey, she clambered down, to join her parents and siblings.
For the finale, the little family of lunatics; from the giantess and the slim dark girl in braids, to the tiny boy with the bongos were all singing along, shimmying their hips and stomping to the wild, undulating music as though possessed.
If I were a rich man…
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum…
If I were a wealthy man!
I wouldn't have to work hard!
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
Gods, who made the lion and the lamb
You decreed I should be what I am…
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan…
If I were a wealthy man?
As the final notes lingered on the outro, they all sat down together in a heap. Their instruments vanished in foggy mist, just as a sofa appeared to catch them, equally mysteriously.
“Hoo! That was a ride!” The madman called in his soothing, musical way, from somewhere in the tangle of exhausted people on the couch.
“I had heard, but could not credit it… mother?” Count Jagdeep Singh asked from the entrance.
Harpreet Kaur, matron and dowager countess, mother of the current count Singh, was still shimmying with her hands upraised, trying to get the hip wiggle down pat. Her coterie of hangers on and lady's maids were in line flanking her, with their palms raised to the ceiling in exultation, shaking their hips.
“Jaggie!” Julius cried from the piano bench. “It’s been ages!” He rose to greet the tall armored man in the foyer. “Ohh, no… try these slippers, my new friends make them, no boots in the house! I’m instituting that in the palace too…”
“How do you always manage to have slippers for everyone Gary?” He asked, only now wondering where the things came from.
“Tailors and cobblers hate this one weird trick…” He replied enigmatically, still buried in his family.
Amy had wriggled free and once more swarmed up the ‘rigging’ and resumed her place in the ‘crows nest’, on the young duke’s shoulder.
“Who’s this, Jules?” She asked, in her merry, piping voice.
“This is my cousin, Jaggie… I don’t know if he has any songs for you Amy.” He said cheerfully. “Jagdeep, This is admiral Amy, pirate princess of the shallow sea.”
Jagdeep Singh was tall, strongly built and clad in very fine, but very muddy armor. Behind him, two guards in similarly battered condition stood warily. He held out a hand, with a sight bow. “Admiral… I am pleased to meet you.” She shook his hand soberly, still seated on the duke. “Julius, is everything all right? Are you well?”
“If this is turning into a noble’s bar, I’m taking my drinking elsewhere…” Abel muttered happily, as he and Auggie Moua eased past the count’s party. The poulterer and goatherd clasped hands with the duke and saluted Amy while they changed into slippers before climbing the two steps into the tavern proper.
“My lor-...” Jagdeep caught himself at the duke’s sharp glance. “Jules, this is all highly irregular, but first, where did my mother go, and what possessed her to… behave so?”
The lord peered about, just noticing the matron’s vanishing act. “Gary, where did Lady harpreet disappear to?”
“Ohh, Shai and Ivy are helping her get changed, I guess she felt embarrassed… or something?” He shrugged. “I expect we’ll be hearing more from her shortl-...” A piercing shriek rose from the changing room.
Jagdeep’s hand flashed to the sword at his hip, as did his guards’, until the duke raised his hand to forestall them.
“Lady Kaur is perfectly safe and well, my word on that cousin. No doubt she just discovered the terrible state of her regalia.” His smirk was almost wicked, tugging at the corners of his mouth spastically.
“Gods, I just wish I could see her face. Gary, can we help my cousin out with his armor, he looks uncomfortable.”
A pair of large men came forward, one dark haired, the other a towering ginger mountain, they made inexpert bows and began helping to remove their guest’s armor. In that task they were much more competent.
The dark haired man led them to a curtained doorway, through which herbal and mineral steam crept. “Ladies… count Jagdeep would like a word… are you decent?”
Harpreet’s head appeared, jutting from behind the curtain. She was flushed with embarrassment and shock, but looked ten years younger than last he had seen her a week ago.
“Jagdeep, send for a change of clothing immediately, someone has played a nasty prank and ruined my clothes…” She glared at the large dullard, as though such a clod could get up to anything more complex than fetching and carrying.
“That won’t do any good Lady Kaur…” The man sang quietly, in a strange, lilting accent. “No curse can survive in my home, your new undergarments and shoes would dissolve just the same. Shai and Ivy explained it to you…”
“Madness! This fool claims the sacred raiment is cursed, have you ever heard the like? If so, why are my son’s underthings intact?” She demanded, preening from behind the curtain in triumph.
“I’m not wearing them mother… I never do in the field… that is why I spend so much time monster hunting… cursed you say?” The young lord muttered, half to himself.
“Oh yes, very much so, Gary and Ivy discovered the trick of it just recently... Off to the private baths with you, duke’s orders… Lady Harpreet will need more time to come to grips with not being gripped.” Julius quipped as he pulled his older cousin off to the other entrance.
“Wait till you see the private baths… Phillip is probably still soaking, you can catch up!”
The duke pulled his cousin off to the private side, guards in tow, looking a bit lost. Shai emerged from the changing room a moment later.
“Ivy hae things in hand there, she do explain again the workings of curse magic. I’ll help thee wi the armors… come Tallum, tae the shop!” She marched off with the men in tow, eager to make things shiny and bright.
“Your mother is an extraordinary woman… does she ever stop?” Jules asked Amy, back at the pianoforte, once Jaggie was soaking.
“Shai loves working, it’s how she shows love too, they both do that…” The little girl said, with just a hint of sadness.
“They did enough by saving us from the hands…”
In an instant, her melancholy was gone. She swarmed down the duke, as Wilford and Rio toddled up smiling, carrying bongos and Gary’s long, slender baton.
“Ooo! You got it!” She cheered. “Come Jules! We’re gonna play in the garden!”
The tiny dynamo took the duke by his hand and pulled him away, leading him to the garden entrance.
A moment later, a tiny hand grasped Kermal’s, pulling him out of the comfortable shadow he had been hiding in. “Come with me. We play.” Wilford said, in his weird, grown man voice.
“How did you find me?” He asked the strange, somber child.
“Ghosts showed me… can’t hide from the dead.” He replied in his warm, chilling way. “Cab’s waiting… he really likes your dance.”
#
“...He calls it the ‘Two Step, Dickroll Slide’, the kid is a genius…” Gary was effusive in his praise for the young lordling, while explaining the basics of ‘curses and hexes for dummies’ in the common room.
The lord’s gear, along with his companions’ was racked up, neatly cleaned and polished in the foyer, awaiting them.
Kermal and Jules were in the garden, playing with the kids and a few ghosts, best to not mention them at the moment.
“...He’s still deciding who he’ll Contract first… my money is on Beast.”
The whole inn heard the gears grind in the count’s head as that statement soaked in through the bulwark of other mind bending things he had endured so far this morning.
“Kermal cannot Contract, he has no living relative with close enough blood ties to accept one. I pity the boy, but some things can’t be changed, however we may wish.” He smiled sadly, disregarding the snickers and smiles spreading over his listeners. “Ignore my mother’s threats, I will not allow him to be returned to the orphanage.”
“Ahh, that’s why he felt like family…” The young musician had a serious look on his face, it seemed ill-fitting somehow.
“I’m trying real hard to remember that your mother has been wearing cursed underbritches for decades and that hurt people, hurt people…” He shook his head sadly and puffed on his pipe.
“I can sew up new underthings, but can she be someone worth sewing for? That will take work on her part.”
“The smile she wore, doing your silly dance, once I saw it every day. I have kept my team in the field for years now, just to avoid going home and dressing for dinner.” He turned to the older of the two men silently accompanying him.
“Jax, do you think less of me, now that you know my shameful secret?” He asked, smiling fondly at the older man.
“Shows good sense yer lordship. Can’t keep a steady lance with a thong around yer… lance, yer lordship.” The man’s face betrayed no emotion, beyond an amused twinkle in his eye.
“Your mother will be fine, if she can resist the urge to strap herself back into those things… but Kermal is one of mine now.” Gary said softly.
“He’ll be Contracting at least one entity tonight, maybe more if he’s been keeping up his practices. Nobody can stop that, unless he chooses to wait. He chooses, it’s between him and the gods, spirits and… others.”
“Others? Are you exposing my young cousin to some outside aberration?” Jagdeep had a hard look on his face, suspicious and tight. “We stumbled on an outsider cult last month. We slaughtered the filth, mid summoning.”
“Ok, we need to talk about that…” The madman said happily. “Those guys suck, but they use innocents most of the time…”
It was a long and confusing day.