Ch: 160 Enjoy The Silence

Lost in their own world, the battling lovers continued their dance, once he was recovered enough to stand.

Jaspreet’s wedding party swarmed over the tent, joining the children among the blankets and pillows.

The kids giggled and squirmed as the ladies pinched cheeks and made themselves comfortable, without dropping the thread of music they wove between and among themselves.

The rest of the nobles arranged themselves in a few moments, finding their places in order of precedence among the chairs and benches scattered about. The combatants resumed their battle after a short respite, launching themselves apart and clashing again and again.

Her split bamboo swords clattered off his weapon far more often than against his already bruised arms and legs.

He did a passable job of protecting his vitals, though she seemed reluctant to attempt to batter some of his more vulnerable points… that caused more tittering and giggles among the ladies and pleased smiles among the men.

Becky sighed with relief when the nobles decided this was a part of the evening’s revels. Her sigh deepened and became relaxed, when her brother and sister remained blissfully distracted.

Starman was having a grand time, really cutting loose. He seemed more solid and real than last time, more present in the moment but less of the moment. He had more light and life in his eyes, though they remained pools of deeper shadow in his brightly painted face.

The one eyed veteran slipped away under the trees, observed by only a few of the guards and escorts. Nobles were nothing but trouble, especially since she had slaughtered Hreth’s second cousin a year ago in a duel. Legal challenges under the eyes of War were all well and good… he’d accepted quickly enough when she’d kicked him right in the asshole. If the stablegirl’s cries for help had found her holding her spear…

When the one that walks out of War’s crucible whole is an orphan indenture, nobles were always able to find other ways. Luna had spent the last year of her indenture on indefinite forward patrol.

She held a warm grudge against Hreth for each night she spent separated from her squad, from Khan… A full year operating solo in the wilds, only returning once a month to check in. Forward patrol was an unofficial punishment duty that was little better than a death sentence for any Adventurer.

She vanished into the tangled woods, enjoying the familiar sounds of a deep forest night. Here, in the boy’s little woodlot, a tiny patch of untouched nature thrived. Beast’s touch was so near in this place, she could feel the forest breathe, at peace.

“I wasn’t going to murder him, Khan. Tonight isn’t the night.” She said to a patch of deeper shadow, with a splendid mustache.

The mustache twitched in a manner that suggested some doubt.

“Yes, I was planning on challenging him…” The stache twitched a few more times.

“Gods, man… very well, I won’t kill him… or cripple him.” Her brilliant smile lit up the little woodlot, as the rabbit in her tattoo vanished into her earhole, his white tail flicking happily in the moonlight.

“Let’s go watch the kids, lover.”

They strolled back to the group hand in hand, watching from the periphery as their kids danced and fought in a moonlit orchard.

Gary leapt halfway up a fig tree chasing his baton, he slipped, winding up pinned briefly in an awkward position. Shai’s blades played a joyous tattoo on his rump as he tried to wriggle free.

With a naughty giggle, she poked him squarely between the cheeks, booping his donut gently. That gave him the oomph to squirrel up the tree and fetch his weapon down.

He landed on the other side of the tree with a chiming jingle, leaning around its thick boll to make a ranged attack.

She slipped gracefully through his projectiles with swaying ease. The savage smile on her face grew wider as she seized one of his projectiles, biting into the sweet, juicy fig with a sensual smile. Swift as a striking serpent, the fruit flew back splatting moistly into the boy’s gaping mouth.

He had foolishly paused, watching her bite the succulent fruit with a stupid man smile on his stupid man face. His smile reappeared, as he savored his half of the treat… until Shai’s swords came for him.

The strange man’s weapon sang a musical chord as he furiously defended his sticky face with sticky hands on a sticky weapon.

With a laugh, he went on the attack, striving not to strike her with his weapon, but to get her smeared with fig pulp as well. It was comically one sided. The baton vanished in a twinkle of dark mist, as he tried to grapple the lithe and agile giantess. His attempts failed hilariously, as she fended both his grasping hands and his puckered, kissing fishlips away gently, with her swords.

Slowly, the music wound down as the couple came together, swaying close and holding each other, lost in the music and the sweet figgy kiss they shared.

“Well, that was something…” Duchess Belen said firmly. “I think the show is over kids.” She helped Becky Jaspreet and the noble ladies of the wedding party gather the children and shoo the gathered lords and ladies back to the inn. The children were completely asleep, passed out, still clutching their instruments with smiles on their little faces.

Gary and Shai were still oblivious, seeing only each other, while the shadow band played on, somewhere out of sight.

A smiling Starman watched over them, perched in the boughs of an apple tree.

#

“That was the strangest display of martial arts…” Abed mumbled softly, as he strolled with Jaspreet, on the way back to the inn. “I find myself… moved.”

“I’m afraid that was a private moment we stumbled in on my love, not a demonstration. Those two are so sweet and odd. She reminds me of those little bright colored jumping spiders in the garden, always in motion… always eager.” Jaspreet snuggled closer to him enjoying a rare private moment alone.

“Their dance was very sensual… I quite fancy the fruit thing… we have fig trees in the palace garden back home, do we not Abed?” She nibbled his throat, right behind his ear… just a little.

“If we do not, I will correct that oversight…” He gasped quietly.

“Sadly, this is where we part, my love… your carriage awaits. As does this poor lonely maiden’s bower, desolate in her solitude.” The bride struck an extravagant pose of exaggerated woe, as her beloved rode away.

He sighed, gazing out the carriage window as the horses began their labor. “It’s a stupid tradition…” He grumbled to Julius. “At least there was a decent inn to be found in this wasteland...”

Duchess Sheng was smiling at him in open delight. “That was a titillating show, was it not great nephew?” Her lecherous grin was only partially an act for the cursed Belens, seated just across the coach.

“I had no idea Wheatford had such entertainments… They were a treat. Are they yours, Leopold?”

“Neither is indentured.” He replied flatly, giving little away, even to a keen eye. Duke Belen was a hard man, while his wife was a golden fortress. Julius however… the young duke squirmed awkwardly, biting back something he wanted to say.

“Are they for hire then? I would like to have them perform at my cousin’s wedding next month in Port Sunderland.” She remarked casually to Leo, while fixing her eyes on Julius.

For some reason the lord paled a bit, before he opened his mouth to speak, seeming quite upset.

“They have been retained on a private contract for the next few weeks, or so I hear.” Duchess Belen answered smoothly, before the young duke could speak. “I will inform their agent of your wish, auntie Grace.”

“Oh, they have an agent, whom should I speak to?” She asked, narrowed eyes glinting dangerously at her great niece.

“Why, the Ginger Dreadnought Company, of course. High priestess Becky can no doubt help you.” Celeste replied amiably, with a note of triumph in her voice.

“She is a formidable child, is she not?”

That upstart Julius aside, these were all players in the Great Game, Abed decided. He resolved to act boldly.

“Another of your ‘SS’ ranked orphans. According to the prospectus she is just thirteen and unContracted, yet is nearing iron rank… unless I am suddenly blind.”

Leopold smiled wanly and turned to his wife, who coldly answered Abed’s breach of propriety.

“Holy Dana has issued an edict over Wheatford. Any hand that breaks the peace of this town during this gathering will be denied Her grace.” Her golden eyebrows rose and fell like a judge’s gavel. The verdict, guilty.

“Her merciful hand will be withdrawn, indefinitely. Lady Healer, the blessed light of mercy has spoken. My husband is wise enough to remain silent, when his preferred answer is violence… during this sacred period.”

She smiled coldly at the handsome duke of Shiraz. “Perhaps you were not paying attention during the presentation… Contracts are being sealed outside the formal ritual process. Not just the fabled Item Contracts, though we’ve had a few of those crop up too. Divine Contracts Abed, not just the occasional fringer child with a strong bond with Beast. Healer is eschewing ritual Contracts entirely. She refuses to accept new bonds...”

That gave Mubarak pause. “My clergy have been evasive lately…” He murmured softly, while his agile mind did some fast figuring. “Since just after midsummer… when your new orphans began making such a splash…”

“You really should have read those briefings…” Grace Sheng said firmly.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

#

Gary woke in their tent in the woods, sweaty, stinky covered with dirt, plant matter, fig pulp and less identifiable goop. He was also faced a with gleaming amber message window reading:

Congratulations, you are made anew! Your rank has increased to Iron, progress to next rank: twenty percent complete.

Gary Ward: Demihuman Monster, Changeling, Outsider

Class:Undead druid

Age:18

Rank:Iron plus

Might:Iron*, Beast, divine Contract, Homebody, The Hive, The Sun.

Resilience:Iron*, Secret, divine Contract, Fractured Soul, Quietus Moon, The Moon

Agility:Iron, Spear Wanderer's Legacy, Pockets!, Sleight of Mind, The Hierophant.

Will:Iron*, Brigid, etheric Contract, Artisan, Bound in Flesh, The Hanged Man.

Mind:Iron*, Morrigan, etheric Contract, Interface, Unlivening, The Endless Dance of Death.

Animus:Iron**, Joy, divine Contract, Familiar Stranger, Entrainment, The Fool.

###

He lay there for a while, contemplating the pleasant sensation of accomplishment rolling around his insides. He took some time and concentrated, conjuring a steaming hotspring for two, just outside their tent. Behind a discreet screen of berry bushes of course… just in case he wasn’t the only one feeling… good, this morning. He rolled over to watch Shai wake up, from a distance, he was pretty gross.

#

It was nice to be on the road. Dannyl took a deep breath, settled more firmly into his pony’s saddle. A two day ride to Herndon and back escorting a supply cart was easy duty. They had three days to get back to Wheatford, which was nice, he’d heard the little farm town was fun. His current companions were less fun.

The red ascots rode in strict formation with rigid discipline, each member scanning their designated sections of their surroundings.

Breaks were strictly scheduled and camp sites were chosen for efficiency, rather than comfort or pleasant surroundings.

Even though this was a supply run, escorting a cart loaded with ledgers, reports and low priority government goods, they took the job seriously.

Sandi had a smooth and steady gait, easily ambling up the wide, clear road. On the open, barren hills, sightlines were long and surprises were unlikely…

Colette gave a sharp, warning whistle, a single blast… a threat spotted. Even on a supply run, monsters could always pop up, especially at the beginning of the warm season.

The dark haired girl raised her spear, indicating they should gather on her position. She sat her horse patiently, waiting for them to form up in ranks before her when the wagon finally trundled up, she spoke firmly.

“Stinkroaches, a big nest. They are swarming just off the road so we have to handle this. That means our ‘advisor’ is in charge….” Colette turned her dark eyes on the young redhaired boy with the cheeky grin. “Advise us, advisor.” She said coldly.

“Ohh come on, it’s not like that, I’m just here to help you work out any kinks in your new gear. I’ll follow your lead for bug smashing…” He smiled and pulled a small flat box of glossy wood from his pocket.

“I see your faces… everybody hates stinkroaches… but I have a secret treat for you guys. We didn’t pass these out cause Wheatford doesn’t reek like some towns, but here we are.” He slid the top off his box and began passing out small bronze ear cuffs, deeply carved in a swirling motif of billowing clouds.

“These stink rings are personal to whoever puts them on first… don’t trade them or mix them up. Once you put it on, it’s yours forever.” He warned them as they donned their new jewelry with giddy smiles on their faces.

“Though, if some asshole wants to steal it, let them… it’s a real wake up call.”

The troupe of young people dismounted and set up a rope corral for their mounts in a stand of oak trees, with a lovely little stream running through. In a scant few minutes they were arrayed for war.

Most were in light leather reinforced with bronze fittings and rings in vulnerable areas.

Their only heavy combatants, Mustafa and Issac, were in composite steel lamellar armor combined with chainmail, silenced and reinforced with spidersilk at the bendy spots. They complained bitterly as they stripped for action.

“I’m not getting that stuff on my armor… no chance.” Mustafa announced firmly, as the others nodded along. “We can’t smell it now, but everybody else will be able to.”

The whole team bore spears, cudgels and shields for this job. They moved afoot, marching together down the road at a measured pace.

There wasn’t much green in a place like this, even in spring. The stoney soil supported twisted oaks, manzanita and tough, stringy grasses. Few people came here, beyond the occasional woodcutter or bands of Adventurers, hunting vermin.

Stinkroaches were not monsters, just very large, very annoying pests. In the desert scrublands, they were a minor nuisance, scavenging corpses, fallen trees, traveler’s rations and supplies. That omnivorous, smelly, carrion eater niche fit them perfectly.

They ranged in size from disturbingly big, but still stompable, to ‘Hand me that ax…’. This colony was on the big side, at around thirty pounds for adults.

No natural animal would prey on them, due to their ability to spray a short blast of noxious, stinging, stinking excrement at any aggressor, this did not endear them to people either.

Only when they swarmed, did they become a menace. They could descend like locusts on an isolated farm or small village and stink out the residents, taking over in just a few hours.

They would then spend days, or even weeks stripping the place bare of all life, before moving on leaving a reeking wasteland behind them. Few towns would revive after a stinkroach infestation.

Fighting them was simple, when threatened they would stop moving, present their backside to the threat and blast the poor creature with a wad of ballistic shite that could temporarily blind an unwary aggressor. The damn things could fire several times before running dry, unlike skunks and bombardier beetles…

“Shields!” Colette shouted, as the two heavies formed up in front. They presented a slightly ridiculous aspect, dressed in ragged old clothes, fit for a rag bin by most peoples’ standards. Their polished and well crafted and cared for weapons told a different story than their dress.

Shields raised down the line with the two heavy warriors with their door shields at the front. A deluge of wet, splatting filth flew from the grass, pelting the team with noxious reasons to flee. Instead they charged the small patch of scrubby grasses, thrashing the living shite out of the big tan beetles hiding in the weeds.

Clubs raised and fell with zeal as the young warriors took the battle to their disgusting foes. The things had a thin, brittle carapace that shattered easily, the sludge that oozed out smelled even worse, sickly sweet and cloying. That stench brough more of the wretched things crawling blindly to their destruction.

They were enthusiastic cannibals, once one of their number was injured. The roaming members of the swarm came scurrying back at the first whiff of their kin’s guts.

The slaughter carried on for a while, a tough, brutal job that had to be done. Mustafa had switched to a spear, and was busily skewering vermin hidden in the bushes.

“What’s that?” He asked. Pointing with his ichor covered spear into the scrub off the roadside. “Something moved over there.”

Saul and Ingrid broke formation, joining up with Mustafa to investigate at a signal from Colette. Dannyl took a moment to uncase his whip, as he moved with the trio, following a few yards off to the left.

Something low and dust colored scuttled swiftly into a bush nearby. Too big to be a stinkroach, it moved strangely, shifting direction awkwardly, despite its rapid movement.

“Careful… that’s no roach…” Ingrid called, just as a hideous, insectile head rose from the tall grass briefly, scanning the area, before disappearing.

“Oh, that’s nasty…”

The rest of the crew abandoned what remained of the swarm, withdrawing to the road to regroup.

“Any clue what it is?” Waldor asked, as he strung his bow.

“Some kind of bug… or at least a bug’s head. It’s big and quick.” Mustafa called, while struggling into his armor with assistance from Ingrid.

Dannyl’s gear had slipped from his storage ring onto his body in moments, so he kept watch with ‘Penz’ as Waldor preferred to be called. The archer wore light armor and had geared up almost as quickly as Dannyl.

Colette aided Issac in getting rigged with practiced efficiency. She addressed the crew while they worked quickly to prepare for the unknown.

“The roaches must have started swarming because of… whatever that is, feeding on them… usually it’s a roach gone monster in the colony.” The tall young woman had to speak up, it was a little noisy out.

The sounds of crunching, followed by insect squeals and chitters said whatever it was, it had a taste for roach.

Dannyl looked back to the horses and wagon, where Adam Belen, their journeyman priest of Healer, sat with the teamster, Rikard, watching the action.

“That’s how it goes huh?” He asked quietly, giving his head a subtle jerk, in the priestly direction a few hundred yards away.

Sammy, the young guitarist, just shrugged. “He can’t strike a living thing. What good would he do?”

“He can be part of the team…” He grumbled. “How can he heal or buff you from way over there?” The blank looks he received made his skin crawl.

“Ok!” Dannyl shook out his whip, limbering the device up with a grin on his face. “Time to end this and get back on the road. I’m just a tagalong, on your lead, Colette.”

He fell back and took up a flanking position, behind the front line and a few steps away. Penz had a similar role on the other flank, scanning the grass with his bow half drawn.

With a sudden, flickering movement, an arrow flashed out, nailing a roach to the pebbly earth, mid scamper.

They stopped, watching and listening… nothing moved. It was so still, Dannyl heard Sandi snuffling anxiously, two hundred yards away… Mostly thanks to the heightened perceptions his Contract with Light had awakened.

The whole team spotted it at the same time, a rounded, bug eyed head slowly rose up from the long grass. The thing had at least three huge compound eyes and way too many pointy, jagged mandibles and mouth parts.

A moment later the grisly head sank back down, silently vanishing in the weeds.

“It’s not stupid…” Issac called. “It’s circling to the left…”

Penz drew back in with the group, watching for a shot, as the subtle rustling of the grasses stopped. Instead, the faint movement withdrew, vanishing among the scrubby, thorny brush.

#

Duchess Sheng was enjoying tea in her chambers, with the wide windows overlooking the palace garden flung open to catch the spring breeze.

“Last night’s presentation and exhibition were both remarkable…And mysterious. Can you shed any light on them, my dear?”

The warrior seated across from the elegant duchess was not handsome, not even good looking. Tangled scars crawled over his neck, face and hands, remnants of one of his earliest battles on the fringe.

The inkwhip land squid had left him marked, body and mind. Simply coaxing him to remove his mask and gloves when alone in her presence had taken a year. Now some of that cold reserve and suspicious gaze had returned.

“I fail to understand your grace…” He said cooly, formally.

“Cameron, this is your hometown, certainly you know the children that entertained us so fully last night. Start with the artist. Tell me about Dannyl.”

“It’s been three years, your grace. He was just a kid when I left. I remember him being artistic, clever and very apt with martial arts and combat training.” He shrugged uncertainly.

“You are hiding something Cameron. I had hoped that you would trust me after all this time.” She sighed. “Very well, what of Becky? Surely you remember her, That child shines like bonfire in the night.”

“She was simply a foundling, precocious and clever. I never had much to do with the little ones.” He held his hands out palms skyward, silently claiming to know no more.

“Indeed…” Grace replied flatly, disappointment rising on her fine delicate features. “Then what of the two giants, dancing among the trees?”

“Shai is a local girl, adopted out of the orphanage by her uncle, Craft priest and master smith Harlan. She was very skilled with the sword even as a child and was a respected apprentice smith when I ‘left town’... She had a little crush on me I think, probably because I was the only boy taller than her… she was shorter then.”

His honest and fond smile caught Grace off guard. That was passing rare indeed. She waited for a while, but her dour and quiet warrior did not elaborate further.

“And the giant dancing boy?” She asked softly when his reverie ended a few moments later.

“Never seen him before. Not a local. Nobody who could keep up with Shai could stay anonymous, not in Wheatford.” He answered firmly this time, without any prevarications or guilty looks.

“When you feel you can tell me, I will be listening, dear Cameron. Now it is time for your medicine and off to bed.” she said softly.

As the big man rose and bowed to depart, she spoke again. “Send Wendel to me tonight. Have Angie attend me in the morning.”

“As you wish, my duchess.” He answered very carefully.

She sighed as the huge warrior left, his tea and cakes remained untouched, as always. She had so much work to do…

#

Shai woke blearily, feeling good, but still exhausted somehow. Gary was beside her, curled up and snoring, she could feel his familiar warmth, but she couldn’t see him. She opened her eyes onto a hazy amber blur, overlaying and obscuring everything.

“Fie, tis his Interface thing…” She started sifting through the storm of messages flooding her vision. His familiar, square amber boxes of glowing text winked out one after another at her glance and with a slight flex of will.

They were all the usual nonsense, Notice, Warning, Blah, blah, blah. She kept flicking them away, until she started getting annoyed… One kept coming back.

The amber text was the same but it had a green border wound with stylized bellflower vines… her favorite. She admired the prettiness of it as she flicked the damnable thing away. And it came right back.

Congratulations, you are made anew! Your rank has increased to Iron, progress to next rank: one percent complete.

Shai Ward: Human, Changeling

Class: Druid, Warrior

Age:18

Rank:Iron

Might:Iron, Fire, divine Contract, Blazing Heart Of Fury

Resilience:Iron, Joy, divine Contract, Indefatigable

Agility:Iron, Instrument, Chimes Of The Wild, Shai’s Irresistible Dance

Will:Iron, Thirp, etheric Contract, Touched By The Void

Mind:Iron, Marduk, divine Contract, Insight Into The Beyond

Animus:Iron, Brigid, etheric Contract, Gift Of The Hearthmistress’ Forge

“Oh, Shite.”

#