Ch: 218 Blow Winds And Crack Your Cheeks!

The legion and the Adventure irregulars followed the nobles and Order, off to Wheatford just a few hours march up the road. The inn and Seahorse remained, since Gary and Shai were still so tired they could barely function. Him from expending far too much of himself on a foolish whim; her from staying up all night to assist Angie from the shadows, like a good sister. Controlling the crowds and lights was just the start. Shai had been up all night working hard, diverting would be, late night bathers away. She spent a lot of time and energy heading off curious seekers, who wondered where one or the other had gone. It was exhausting.

#

The Belens, Mubaraks, duke Rummel and duchess Sheng were all huddled together in the private conference room, now that Bamford had been rolled up and carried off somewhere. The visiting nobles had been given the unprecedented boon of access to the Belen Portrait room, that they might contact their homes and satisfy themselves that nothing was amiss. So far, only Wheatford had come under additional attack.

“This lends credence to my assumption that this was an attack on my domain and my family. I apologize for entangling you in this matter.” Leopold said gravely. “Sadly Juius, I will need to pull some of my forces back from your undead issue.”

“You could just loan me…” Leo cut Julius off with a smile.

“You know I need that lunatic here, Jules.”

Celeste weighed in, soothing the worried young duke. “Amicus will no doubt remain on the job… He won’t stop sending me letters I don’t understand about his ‘exciting findings’…”

“Our young friends will find the time to visit you soon, I’m sure.” Grace whispered to duke Rummel. “As will I.”

#

The tent city outside the uplands gate had dissolved and gone to their separate and varied homes days ago, just as most of the water craft had sailed off. Wheatford felt a little empty with most of the fine fancy foreign folks gone.

Slowly, Wheatford proper began to empty out and release a pent up sigh. The town’s innkeepers found more time for the important part of their craft, polishing glasses while leaning on the bar and watching the people go by outside.

Wyeth’s inn was still full, but most of his guests were preparing to depart, some within the hour. When a slim man in black came up to the bar, the innkeeper had hopes of refilling some of those rooms…

“No, I have never heard of master Oddsman, Lester Nesmith.” Wyeth said firmly, to the insistent fellow in black. “If you are searching for someone, ask the cult of Order or the civic guard. I can assure you the man was no guest of mine.” He grumbled.

“As though I’d forget if a master Oddsman came calling…”

The dangerous seeming fellow drifted out the door, unsatisfied. Wyeth Penz shuddered as the door closed with a merry tinkle of brass bells. “Glad I am, to be still fully rented… technically.” He muttered to his son, Waldor.

“Yes… I’ll be back soon papa, I need to run an… errand.” Penz called even as he was casing up his bamboo flute and heading for the back door.

“Be back for the cleaning this afternoon, those guest rooms will need attention!” Wyeth shouted.

“I’m an Adventurer now, papa… not an innkeeper!” He muttered that last, once he was safely on the street. Two more Contracts and he would be free of the inn and its constant drudgery…

He made his way down the back alleys and side streets, slipping through the least crowded parts of the market ward and out through the crafts gate. At Shai’s inn he stopped…

“Oh yeah… it’s gone.”

In the deep pool, Esperanza and Esperanza’s bounty sat at anchor, the crew climbing all over both vessels, busily doing… boat stuff, he supposed.

“A-ahoy..?” He called from the shore.

Esperanza, the beautiful, busty trade captain appeared at the rail. “Yes, what need you, from Esperanza? We have spices, fine glass beads and some ivory and jade jewelry for your lady fair…”

A small boat was tethered to the shore, on a small, makeshift pier. Planks had been laid across the gunwales, forming a simple and somewhat unnervingly tippy bridge to the floating shop. He slowly stumbled across; clinging to the rope railings the entire way in abject terror.

“Fear not, if you fall in, sweet Falco will fetch you out…” She held a hand out to him as he scampered the last few steps to the deck.

“I’ve not come to buy, mistress Esperanza, I bring news and a warning. I heard a man asking for that oddsman who vanished… the one suspected of attacking Shai’s children. He seemed upset to be unable to locate the man, upset and dangerous.” Penz said, nervously looking over his shoulder, lest the fellow appear suddenly.

“He gave the impression of a warrior… and short tempered.”

“Tell Esperanza what you know of this man… tell everything.” She murmured softly, as she pulled him into her quarters.

#

Penz emerged a half hour later; the poor boy was flushed, confused and smiling in stupid bliss. Nicolai helped him ashore, since he was unsteady on his feet, even for a lubber.

“Steady now drylander…” He murmured. “Best you get home right away and have a nap…”

“I feel funny… like I’m wearing a too tight hat… what did I smoke?” He mumbled through chocolate stained lips.

Nicolai sighed and waved down a kid in a red sash, he passed over a copper bit and grinned. “Do you know where young Penz lives?” He asked, still holding the fellow steady.

“Sure, is he ok?” Susie peered at him gravely. “He’s one of the Ascots… Should I fetch a healer?”

“No, child, just guide this silly fool home and make sure he gets inside. He overindulged on chocolate and smoked himself silly, is all.” The young sailor said gently, as he passed her a small wooden token carved with the image of a leaping dolphin picked out in bright blue paint.

“Do this for me and Esperanza will owe you a favor. This token is her own mark.”

“Oooo!” Susie gasped, snatching the bauble and the copper bit away with quick fingers. “Done and done!”

Penz found his hand clasped by a familiar ten year old girl, as she dragged him through the town, headed for his family inn on the edge of the temple ward. She got him home just in time to start cleaning the guest rooms, now that the guests had departed.

“Aawww…” He mumbled in disappointment.

#

Hertz had never visited Wheatford before, though he had met plenty of her mercenaries in his career with the Adventure guild. Now as an independent specialist for hire he found the clean, wide streets oppressive.

The endless blue sky above the town was studded with puffy white clouds and the sunshine seemed overly bright and cheerful. The people were the same, friendly, smiling and open, until he asked about this Nesmith fellow. Then they became as hard eyed and suspicious as any.

Asking the civic guard and Order was his last choice, but so far the inns had come up empty and no one seemed to know anything specific… at least, nothing they were willing to share with a stranger asking questions.

He shrugged and headed for the Adventure guild… Any Oddsman would head there at some point, if only from habit. He checked in with the one handed old man in the green cap at the Adventure gate, flashing his journeyman’s badge with the specialist’s star in bronze.

“Welcome brother, first time in Wheatford?” Able asked, smiling happily.

“Yes, I’m here on a contract, a missing person. I’m looking for master Oddsman Lester Nesmith…” Old Able’s smile died a hard death, becoming a thin compressed line of pale lips. “No Oddsmen allowed in the Adventure compound… No Oddsmen at all.”

“What does that mean?” Hertz demanded calmly. “Are you denying me entry?”

“Certainly not, brother. But there are no Oddsmen here and no Oddsman has been admitted since…” He scratched his head under the bright green cap he wore.

“I get it. No Oddsmen came in… did he try to gain entry? Within the last three weeks or so?” The man in black pressed.

The old timer pressed right back. “Mebbe yes, mebbe no… Mebbe he decides to become a thousand spiders and fly away in a silken breeze… I watch the gate and mind my business.” The geezer held open the gate and waited. There was no further answer coming from that quarter.

At the front desk, the young blonde Joy cultist professed to know nothing of Oddsmen. “As well ask me about the local spiders…” He shrugged, seeming not to notice his odd turn of phrase.

“Yes… let me ask another way… have you heard anything about a man named Lester Nesmith?” He placed a copper mark in the offering box letting it fall down with its brothers, with a musical chime.

“I am a priest of divine Cowl, our lady Joy… Not a public directory. You should ask at the temple of Knowledge, if you wish such information.” He said coldly.

“Temple of what now?” He asked calmly. “Is this some local term? In Harrowdale, we always tell people to ‘ask at the temple of Secrets’, to brush them off.”

“We used to say that too… now it just gets weird… both Knowledge and Secret are out of town though…” The strange, mad priest said, with a contemplative air about him, as he spouted rubbish.

#

At the temple of Healer he got a similar runaround, they even played the same game, jesting about the cult of Secrets and some Knowledge silliness.

In small, isolated towns, strangers asking questions should expect to get the business, at least a little. This was maddening… even the temple of Order refused to answer him, referring him to a tax and Order office in the trade ward. Sir Thelonius Dunham was supposedly the only source for answers in this damnable town.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Do you know Lester Nesmith?” The scarred giant demanded, before he’d even finished asking his own questions.

“No, I am an independent specialist, contracted to find him, or to discover his fate. Do you know where he is?” Hertz was sitting forward on his chair, perching like the vulture he so resembled.

His lank fringe of black hair under his prematurely balding pate, with his long, blade of a nose lent the man a sinister, predatory sense, which was not improved by the specialist’s traditional black uniform.

Dark eyes and bushy dark brows only made things worse, combined with his natural pallor and preference for shady, cool environments…

When he was a lad they called him, ‘the necromancer’s apprentice’, since his family were gravediggers and cemetery tenders by trade… in the orphanage things had not improved much.

Now a journeyman and operating independently for the first time, Hertz had little patience for this nonsense.

“No. My investigation is ongoing, consider your contract suspended and any results so far, sealed.” Tony said with absolute clarity in his voice.

#

“Susp…! Seale…!” Tony waited while the man remastered the art of speech. “This is unacceptable! I will bring this to your superiors!”

“I will allow no interference in this matter. You will be notified when my investigation concludes and the results are made public.” The giant answered slowly.

“My mandate in this issue comes from duke Belen and the council of the Twelve Duchies… to whom would you like to address your complaint?”

Tony watched as the sinister looking young man sank in his chair, becoming just another young man trying to find his way in the world. “Take my advice…” He paused, waiting expectantly.

“Hertz, journeyman Adventure specialist, bronze rank.” He muttered sourly.

“Thank you, Hertz. Take my advice, forget this contract and go home. You will find only trouble and woe if you continue this way.” Tony tried to smile reassuringly… His facial scar made it more intimidating, than anything else.

“I am contracted by his guild, I will not interfere with whatever you are doing… but you do not have the power to suspend my contract.” The man answered tartly. “I will also ‘not allow any interference’, sir Dunham.”

Tony smiled at the man. “Very well. I have warned you that this is a hornets nest; if you insist on plunging in, the consequences will be yours. I am not required to direct you to that hornet’s nest, nor will I.”

Tony called to the man, as he was headed out of the office in a fury. “When you find them, do try the eclair… they are a specialty of the house. Tell them Tony sent you.”

#

Back at the Adventure compound, Hertz was led to some rather nice accommodations, overlooking a splendid garden and pool. The place was a hive of activity, with far too many kids scurrying about down there. He briefly wondered whether they were engaging in the oft rumored practice of ‘breeding’ orphans… Impossible. Belen was too high profile. Such shameful antics were the province of desperate border lords and inbred backwood tyrants…

Whatever this was, whatever Belen was up to was no concern of his… Save, that he might send a report to the Orphans League.

#

The next morning, things had vastly improved in the house by the waterside. The whole crew poured out into the garden and got ready to travel the final stretch, just a couple hours at Gary’s most reasonable pace.

The kids, Gary and Shai were on Seahorse, taking it easy, with the wooden superstructure up and the windows open. Liam and Tawny rode at the head of the column with Khan and Luna, while Klyburne, his squires and his valet rode in the middle of the group.

Even from the chaotic center of the moving column, a casual observer could tell; the pace of travel bore no relation at all to the way the miles slipped under their hooves. It felt like a relaxed jog through pleasant countryside, not the blistering pace of a courier with a ducal signet packet.

Men killed horses moving this swiftly, even on smooth and well maintained roads… yet his mount was running easy, breathing well and only misted with sweat. Her morning warmup was no more strenuous. His squire’s horses and his short string were faring no worse… the remounts seemed damn frisky.

They hit the orchard garden by midday and were planting the inn and garden back in Mikkel’s clay plot before fourth bell rang.

Things were different this time. The hedge was high and thorny, enclosing the garden from waterside to roadside and all around.

The only entrances were the dock and the by the road, near the bridge. He encompassed the entire plot leased from the old potter and sculptor, enclosing it securely. Inside, the garden remained idyllic, but unseen, behind the facade of the stable and showroom. Visitors entering from the road found themselves in a pleasant patio, with a small lawn and some lovely plantings… facing a choice of the shop door, or the closed stable door.

They no longer had access without passing through the house, nor could they enter the walled courtyard containing the baths. Climbing that wall would be deeply unpleasant.

The hedge ended at the waterside, where the berry bramble began. Only the swimming hole and dock remained, with a stout gate barring access to the garden and baths.

“Fie, are we back tae dark fortress in the badlands? I mislike this, tis bad fer trade an unwelcoming.” Shai looked around and shuddered. “Nae. Security be one thing, I’ll nae live in a prison, nor will me bairns!”

In a few brief minutes, the hedge was replaced with a low fence of wooden posts supporting a decorative chain. Each link was wrought in a different way, rounded, squared, twisted, hexagonal, braided or carved into a fanciful shape. Only knee high at the highest, it encircled the yard, just inside a low hedge of hawthorn. The gates carried the chain up on poles, completing the circle, forming an enclosure of iron that any mortal could step over. She smiled smugly at her workings, challenging Gary to find fault.

He strolled along the low fence, just over mid shin high and smiled. “Nice one… Why didn’t I think of that? Just unwelcome ghosts, spirits, shades, demons and fae will be unable to cross. Why’d you let me goof up first? Now I feel silly.”

“Now he feels silly…” Becky complained softly, rolling her eyes so hard she nearly sprained one.

The whole parade tumbled in the door and got settled, quickly adjusting to the change in format:

“Gary, the fridge door opens the other way now, I don’t like it!”

“Why am I on the other side of the corridor?”

“There’s a vampire bat in my underwear drawer!”

The usual stuff…

#

Esperanza came bustling up, once she was moored on his pier. The trade captain was too flustered to even flirt with Shai.

“Word comes from Penz, of the Red Ascot band, some black clad warrior of ill aspect seeks… the missing Oddsman. This one has not seen anything and knows nothing… brothers and sisters.”

“Ugh, that guy… still causing problems.” Gary grumbled sourly.

Fifth bell was just finishing its song, when a familiar, official knock hit the door. Tony had come calling with a satchel of bad news and Gary was not receptive, not even a little.

“Nope. Fargnahagn can wait till I feel like it.” He said firmly.

“Gary, be reasonable… his home remains uninhabitable; at least until we understand these workings and dark arts…” Tony was paddling for all he was worth but he was in a sinking boat.

“Fargnie got plenty of warnings… if I see his ass he better be ready to back his shit up. If somebody wanted Shaheen’s head more than me, they are welcome to keep it. Wherever his dome wound up, I hope it makes a nice chamber pot.” Even by mercurial Gary standards, he was running hot. He had an unpredictable look in his eye that even Shai was nervous about.

“They pushed me too far, then pushed even more, Tony. If I thought for a second, Leo was involved…” He stopped to chew on some harsher language and less grownup ideas.

“You don’t wanna go to war with me Tony, you lose no matter how that goes down.”

“No one is ‘going to war’ Gary. There is a plot afoot and we need your help to unravel it…” He insisted.

“Sir Tony, perhaps I can help instead?” Becky offered cheerily. “Dannyl and I can examine the scene at lord Fargnahagn’s manor, sketch the salient points and make inquiries… allowing Gary to avoid murdering any of these nimrods.”

“Liam, Ivy and I can investigate the mystery around lord Shaheen’s head, so you will not be tempted to do any…” Tawny waved her hands wildly indicating who knows what and said: “Gary stuff.”

“Hey! What’s ‘Gary stuff’ supposed to be? I haven’t raised any…” He paused and a frustrated look crossed his face. “Ok, I haven’t captured… Well I haven’t… Wow… I guess you’ve got me there. That’s pretty messed up, when I think about it.”

He took a pensive pose for a good solid twenty seconds, before he shrugged. “Screw it. So you guys…” He indicated Dannyl, Becky, Khan and Luna. “...are going into the dark manor house in the hills looking for signs of witchery and dark magic… just a few hours before sundown.”

He looked at Tawny and her team. “You guys wanna head down into the depths of the temple, searching for the secret of the stolen headbone… Meanwhile, our three helpless tots stay here, at the murder scene; perhaps my lovely lady and I will go skinny dipping?” He stroked his chin and thought for a moment.

“I see no flaws in this plan.”

“Excellent, I did not expect you to be so reasonable!” Tony said with a wide, boyish grin.

“What the hell dude?!” Gary barked. “I just laid out the setup for every freaking slasher movie ever… and you have no clue what I’m talking about…”

He paced the room, grumbling to himself. “It’s like having to learn a new language all over again… Can’t believe it… Lambs to the slaughter… Not My Becky!” He barked at the end of his mad tirade of nonsense.

He glared at Tony with actual anger, behind the madness. “We go to Fargnie’s place tomorrow at dawn, as a team. We sweep his place, snoop around and give you our findings. Then we are done with that dude… and he better not show up while we are working.”

“I trust you will operate with all due care when in his home…” Gary’s glare intensified and began to feel awkward, prickling at Tony’s neck hairs.

“I’m a professional.” He said icily. “My fee will reflect that, and his preferred customer discount.”

“Discount?” Shai asked just as icily, but directed at Gary.

“Yeah… dis counts, dat counts, all dese tings count… shit adds up, yo.” He said in a broad, brooklyn accent that was an absolute disgrace.

“No, seriously, I am going to bleed him for coin, just because I can… The next guy that looks at my kids sideways is going to catch something nasty. You know the Fool… the Devil is still waiting in the wings, watching for his cue.”

“On that cheery note; Gary, Shai, off to bed, physician’s orders, you’ve been run ragged. The rest of you… let’s get cozy.” Tawny clapped her hands twice and shooed them upstairs.

#

Rolf and Angie found their rooms situated across from each other at the end of the hall. Their doors opened on a small bay windowed alcove, with a loveseat and tea table just big enough for two… The window looked out on the garden and river, it was very intimate, aggressively so.

“Yes, this reeks of a plot…” Rolf said, looking down at the cozy little nest, with a teapot steaming on a tray, cookies and only two cups.

“It would be wise to play along… in the interest of foiling this plot when most advantageous…” Angie said firmly.

“Sound tactical logic. Best we sample the tea and cakes, they could be a trap… a delicious, aromatic trap, blended with mint and blackberries.” Rolf agreed, taking Angie’s hand as she sat and joining her a moment later.

In each corner of the little nest, a small tree was potted in a shallow tray, twining dramatically, a mature tree in miniature. “Cherry and Plumeria?” She asked softly. A gentle breeze, scented with spring blossoms wafted by, confirming her suspicions.

“I don’t care…” Rolf muttered, eager to discover how the tea tasted on her lips.

#

Hertz followed rumors and speculation as far as they would lead, which took him to old man Otho, the near legendary Beloved of Joy.

“You are poking around in a dark burrow with a short stick, what comes out to greet you, may be more than you can handle.” The old man said cheerily.

“I’ve had enough veiled warnings and threats, priest Otho. Or perhaps, is the cult of Joy complicit in whatever befell Lester Nesmith?” He asked calmly.

“Now I am tempted to tell you what you want to know… just to see if you would believe it.” He giggled and shook his close cropped silver haired head in mirth. “But no, Lady Joy instructs me to tell you thus: Lester Nesmith is alive and well. He will live out his natural span wherever he is and the world will continue on.”

“You can see why I will find that unsatisfactory.” Hertz mumbled sourly. “His guild demands answers.”

“His guild has no power here. The Oddsmen hold no special privileges in Wheatford duchy; from whom will they demand these answers? Not from me, that is certain.” Otho’s smile became brittle and hard.

“I have an orphanage to run and much work to do.”

“Well, at least you didn’t tell me to ask at the temple of Secrets, or Knowledge… this is a weird town.” Hertz grumbled as he rose to leave.

“Secrets and Knowledge? They came home this afternoon, just across the bridge outside town, you will find their shared temple. If you visit, do try the eclair, you can’t handle the sandwich, trust me.”

#

“Nesmith attacked my children and tried to abduct them, using mental domination techniques… in my home. If I’d caught him he would be scattered all over the market ward.” Gary said with a cold, hard smile. “Wherever he wound up, he got off easy.”

“I believe you know more than you are telling me. Would you like to elaborate on your testimony…” Hertz asked cooly. “Before I make my final report?”

“Does that work on these rubes?” Gary asked, his frosty demeanor melting away in an instant. “Do they just obediently start telling you things when you do that?” He put on a mocking impression of the sinister seeming man. “Ooo! ‘Elaborate on your testimony…’ so scary and official!”

“You jest and jape, but a man is missing. Whatever your opinion of him, that fact remains.” The black clad man said firmly.

“I told the cult of Order everything I know. Ask them for their reports, I’m done with Lester Nesmith, done answering questions too.” Gary fixed him with a cold stare again, just as suddenly. “Stay away from my kids.”

“Those orphans are witnesses.” He began.

“If you come near my kids, I’ll be warning the guy who comes looking for you, to stay away from my kids. Because you will disappear too. See where this is going? Am I being too subtle?” The madman grinned and looked strangely… hungry.

“You haven’t tried your eclair… we’ve been working on the recipe for a while now.”

It did look delicious, the choux pastry was a deep golden brown… contrasting nicely with the chocolate ganache, mirror bright and dark as a pool of shadows. Where the puffy dough had been parted to introduce the gleaming ivory diplomat cream, the crumb showed lacy and yellow, redolent of egg yolks and sweet butter. The pastry seemed almost too perfect to defile with mortal teeth. He picked up the morsel and took a bite, just to silence the fool.

The explosion of sweet flavors and rich, decadent, creamy pleasure nearly knocked him off his chair. It crunched, oozed, crackled, melted and chewed in so many distinct and exciting sensations, it took a few moments for him to realize the tiny treasure was gone, devoured entirely.

“Gods… that was good.”

“Yeah, my sisters, Ivy and Becky, they love making sweets, they love their little siblings too. If anyone hurt or took the kids, they wouldn’t kill them… no matter how much that person might beg for death.” He grinned again. “I’m the friendly, cheerful one, aren’t you lucky!”

“If I am forced to it, I will return with a writ and a justiciar, to compel their testimony.” The man in black said, even as he was licking chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

“That’s going to make our further dealings more complicated, Hertz. I know you have a job to do, but so do I… and that job is protecting my kids.”Gary said with utter calm. “It would be easier for everyone if you took the advice you’ve been given and drop this.”

“I must insist.” Hertz said, just as calmly.

“Too bad… Here, have another eclair before you go.” The man passed over a small plate bearing another of those little jewels, which Hertz accepted with poorly concealed glee.

The perfect morsel vanished quickly, then the man frowned slightly. “Hmm, that tasted of hardly anything at all…” He murmured.

“Yeah, I made that one… I never can get the flavors to stick. Anyway, you’ve worn out your welcome so, toodles.” The man shepherded him to the door not quite rudely and sent him on his way.

Gary called out as Hertz was approaching the gate. “Remember, don’t come back or try to talk to my kids without a writ and a justiciar… or with one if you’re smart.”

#