Ch: 239 Beat It
Gary squirmed and thrashed as Tawny mended his cracked eye socket and three broken teeth with her spells. “Ohh, that feels grooooooosss!” He moaned and gurgled through his own blood, while Ester giggled nearby.
“He flopped like a speared fish!” She said cheerfully. “I had no idea he was so fragile… Now I wonder how I failed to trample or impale him that first day…” She murmured regretfully. “Missed opportunities…”
Ester was surrounded by the kids, Angie and Becky, so she couldn’t hex or jinx the poor boy anymore. She had managed a quick curse on the buckles holding his training helmet on, while they were between bouts…
Once that was in, she just had to wait for the right moment to unbuckle it. The sound of Rolf’s training sword ringing his helmet like a temple bell, right across the fool’s face was a sweet melody Ester would cherish forever…
“That was mean and nasty!” Amy scolded sharply, with her two brothers nodding solemnly along. “I’m gonna have to tell Annie and ‘Ponna on you.” The note of disappointment in Amy’s voice was what cut her to the bone.
“I’m sorry Amy, that was cruel and I apologize…” Ester began, nuzzling at the tiny, furious girl on her lap.
“Nuhh uh! Not to me! You gotta ‘poligize to Gary. You hurt him just to be mean!” She demanded. A quick glance around showed firm agreement with Amy’s opinion.
“Amy, darling… I can’t just talk to him… he’s dead!” The unicorn fussed and flustered under the gaze of her new friends until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Can’t believe they expect me to talk to the dead one…” She muttered and grumbled as she made her way over to the battered musician, still squirming under Tawny’s spells.
“I can’t do anything about your bruising and soft tissue injuries, beyond mundane care… You know how this works by now.” Tawny said softly, while she regrew his broken teeth one by one. “The extraction was the hard part, we should find an anesthetic you aren't immune to. Now spit, there’s too much blood in your mouth.”
“Gngg, Nghh Nghhnngg…?” He gurgled at the healer who was knuckles deep in his mouth.
“Now you remember that leechslug toxin?” She muttered in exasperation. “Really, Gary. Give Liam some samples to work on… for next time you get your face knocked in. I‘m already done here.” Tawny shook her head sadly. “Shai is probably wondering why her face hurts…”
The golden healer waved to Tallum. “Help me haul him to the grotto, no more training for the morning.” With a grin, the giant hauled his friend up and half dragged him away to the baths. “Rolf, are you uninjured? You two were really going at it there.”
“No, I’m untouched… though he did almost get a lucky blow or two in; he’s improving a little.” Rolf shook his head and sighed. “He’s much more dangerous with that strange baton of his…”
“In his mind, the baton is a musical instrument, not a weapon… Did you notice, he only uses it against the undead and in sparring matches?” She shrugged. “He’d be ready to rank up into Copper, if he didn’t have this weird issue with his spear. He’s convinced that it makes him all murdery, so he won’t spar against anyone but Shai with it.”
“He mentioned something like that…” Rolf mumbled, following the battered musician into the bath.
#
“I will catch him in a private moment and speak to him then…” Ester murmured, to the group of young humans around her.
“No deal, you hurt my friend, you need to make it right.” Angie insisted. “What you did was wrong and cruel… I thought better of you Ester.”
“But he’s… Don’t you see?” She moaned piteously. “He emanates an aura that rakes at mine, hungry and vile… He’s not really alive!”
“Yes he is… don’t be a bigot.” Becky scolded the unicorn girl. “You didn’t have a problem with Kelli and Elli, why can’t you let him be?”
“Those two were both alive…” She snorted in disbelief. “Totally different!”
“Ester.” Angie said firmly. “If you can’t be nice to my friend, I am unsure if we can forge a Contract together.” She looked the unicorn maiden in the eyes and spoke very clearly. “I think Rolf will feel the same way… Perhaps that is part of why we are as yet, unContracted.”
Ester stopped cold and gazed at Angie in wide eyed fear. “Is that it? Could it be? Would he choose friendship with that deadling, over… ME?”
“Sweet Ester, have you ever seen Rolf be cruel, or hurt someone because he could?” She asked gently. “Could it be that your unreasoning hatred for Gary has nothing to do with him, but rather, reflects your unresolved feelings from your past?” Angie let that simmer, as she collected the children and headed for the grotto. “We are going to go visit our injured kin… you should think about what we’ve learned today.”
They vanished into the grotto, leaving Ester with the big red dog, Otho. “Annie is going to be unreasonable about this as well… isn’t she?” The mutt whuffed softly at her and wagged his tail twice. “You too? Even Falco…” She complained bitterly. “Am I the only one who sees what he is?”
The dog sat down with a soft grunt, looked her in the eye and tilted his head, just a little. “Really? Post Traugh Maticstress Disorder? I’m not sick! There’s nothing wrong with me!” She snapped in sudden fury.
“What would a spider know about it anyway?” She stamped her foot at the dog, who remained unperturbed. “Taking advice from random deities… see what that gets you…” She complained.
The big doggie slowly settled down and set his head on his paws, with a look in his eyes that clearly asked: ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ He let loose a long doggie sigh and waited for her to work her way around to it.
“So, you’re saying that I’m out here, and all the people I care about are in there… because I hurt someone they care about…” She blinked a few times as the pieces began to fall into place.
“Otho… am I the asshole here?”
#
The family had lunch in the grotto with Gary, whose face was much less purple and misshapen now. The rest had crispy fried tempura vegetables and sweet, succulent squid steaks… Gary had warm yogurt and room temperature water, since his new teeth and battered gums were still super tender.
“Thish really Shuksh ash.” He murmured. “My right eye ish shtill blurry.”
“That will pass soon.” Tawny murmured. “I contacted Shai, she knows everything is fine.”
“Thanksh Tawny… Imma’ go fashe down fer a while.” He flopped down into a deadman’s float, face first in the bubbling, not exactly water for a nap.
#
“I’m not an orphan, but since I work for the Orphan’s League, I can come and go on campus at will. I like to use the baths… since my home is…” Carlos trailed off awkwardly. “Well, I stay in Shai’s house on campus most nights, when I’m in town, or I camp under a willow with my familiars…”
Kelli dragged the young carter into a wordless accepting embrace, squishing him to her with surprising strength. A moment later she skipped and danced up the street in the brightly colored common clothes and shawl Shai had given her, overjoyed to be free of the hated robes and veil.
“Kelli, remember, Shai and Gary asked us to not snoop or report on what we see here… so no reports, no reading the records… Promise?” Elli quietly insisted from her shadow, once they were inside the compound.
“Promise… I don’t wanna be an Oddsman any more. Not if they are doing bad things!” She muttered. “Who else gets to play with numbers?” She gave a soft gasp of excitement. “Could I become an… accountant?” She whispered reverently. “Maybe… a tax assessor?”
“I think we should continue to avoid the Taxman’s Guild, They seem strange and devious.” Elli murmured softly.
“Have you considered the Orphan’s League? You’re already a member and they have become much more active lately.” Carlos opined. “I’ve been hauling for them for two months now and they’ve dealt square with me every time.”
Together, they approached a simple stone roundhouse in the hillfolk style, out of place in the middle of the Adventure compound, among the blocky, square structures every orphanage occupied and had since times long gone and forgotten.
Memories of her own youth in the Fort Hermitage facility flooded back, as she looked up at the strangely familiar buildings. She’d roamed those halls like a ghost, largely ignored, she’d only ever been assigned the simplest and least vital tasks, fetching, carrying and helping with the very youngest children; those days had been among her happiest, poopy diapers and all.
“Could I work in the orphanage?” She asked Carlos and Elli, misty eyed and her voice choked with unfamiliar feelings.
“Beloved Otho is the administrator of the Wheatford Orphan’s League, you’ve met him and he knows about your…” Carlos shrugged helplessly. “He knows about Elli, perhaps you should ask him.”
As they talked, Carlos led them inside, through the main living space and to a simple, comfortable bedroom, with a window looking out onto the garden. “This is Shai’s house, she said you are welcome to stay here as long as you need…” He said, through a complicated smile.
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“It’s almost always here… if it disappears we will need to find other accommodations.”
“How odd…” Elli murmured happily. “This place is brimming over with energy and life… Just like that marvelous inn.” The shadow being drifted to and fro around the house, peering at everything with interest.
“Your bedroom is private, no one should bother you in there.” The young wagon driver explained gently. “The main room is kinda a public place, lots of the older orphans hang out here. A few local Adventure bands use it as a ‘secret clubhouse’...” He shook his head at the mad musician’s weird turns of phrase. “They are all out of town right now. I’ll be staying in the loft, right above you.”
He took her by the hand and led the woman and her shadow to the lavatory and then to the hotspring baths outside. “I usually get something at the market, when the Ascots and the Hammers are away Adventuring. It’ll be nice to have someone to cook for.” He sighed happily. “Jerry is staying on campus too, so you have friends already.” The young man pulled her out to the baths again and gave her a gentle push.
“Go on, relax, I’ll get your baggage from the cart. My friends need their rubdown and some oats, so I’ll be a little while.”
In the bath, no one looked askance at the portly, wide featured woman in early middle age, who slipped into the huge pool. The children kept splashing and bouncing around in their noisy corner, while the elders and veterans soaked in the hottest section near the water inlet, where it bubbled and cascaded over and through a seemingly natural stone wall.
The older kids bobbed in the deep end deep in their own consultations. Kelli found a spot near some climbing roses and settled in for a long soak, while watching the people all around. “Elli…” She whispered quietly to the shadow floating on the steamy water’s surface. “I like it here… could we really?”
“If you are certain… We would be giving up our tenure with the guild and starting over.” Her shadow cautioned gently.
“I never liked the Oddsmen… they’re not very nice, I just like the numbers and reports.” She whispered, as though revealing some dark secret.
#
Willard shifted nervously on the cold, hard chair and shot a desperate glance at his superior. “Surely there’s another way, master Venn…”
“You’re his nephew… It’ll be fine…” Venn shoved the tremulous Oddsman to his feet and pushed him to the door. “Go on, we shouldn’t keep the duke waiting.”
Duke Siong Wen had a busy schedule and severe indigestion. Scattered around the council chamber were his guards and trusted aides, the few he considered loyal enough to be present for delicate matters. A message from Leopold Belen, ‘duke’ of Wheatford and his greatest rival was just such a matter.
The carefully composed face of the messenger gave no clue as to her personal opinion, but Wen suspected she was enjoying herself, at his expense.
“Duke Belen specifically instructed you to read the message aloud…” Wen repeated, while attempting to conceal his growing fury.
“Yes , your grace. I am bound by guild law to comply… If you wish, I can read it to a designated proxy, or in private.” Rhea Gillis was a veteran of War’s Legion, now a veteran of the Guild of Free Messengers and Couriers. She wore her crisp red jacket and shako proudly, her silvery spidersilk braid and badges shining brightly.
“Go on then… let this farce commence.” He sighed in feigned disinterest. The boiling rage he tried so hard to conceal could be seen in the way he gripped his goblet of sweet, northern wine.
Rhea stood straight and tall and began to recite in a clear, ringing tone. “My brother duke Siong Wen of Port Jakkara, I hope this missive finds you well and in good spirits…” It went on like that for a while, suggesting that someone more erudite had added to the message. Belen’s wife, no doubt… He tuned out the droning blather and pleasantries, waiting for the meat of the matter to come around.
“...with regret, I must deny your request, the team you requested is currently on furlough and is unavailable for the foreseeable future. On a happier note, the bonds of kinship between our realms grows ever closer! One of your retainers, journeyman Jaen Suratawatt, formerly of Jongrae town, bids you his fond farewells and wishes for your grace’s continued good health and fortune. That worthy has taken my service, for which I thank you! Feel free to send a reply by another excellent, veteran warrior… if you have so many to spare.”
Rhea cleared her throat into a carefully raised hand, concealing her unruly smile of delight, once that was quelled, she continued.
“Enclosed with this missive you will find his resignation from your service and a draft from my hand, to pay out his remaining contract. With loving regards, Duke Leopold Belen of Wheatford and surrounds.”
“Thank you… Messenger Gillis.” He said calmly, while also grinding his teeth in fury. “My aide will accept your documents. Please await my reply in the antechamber.”
“This missive was sent without provision for a reply…” She answered with a pleasant smile. “His grace, duke Belen suggested that you prefer to utilize your own retainers, rather than my guild’s services.” Her slightly vacuous smile was a pure fabrication, this woman knew what she was doing and was enjoying herself immensely, at his expense… again, or rather, still.
Duke Wen swallowed his rage down and smiled back. “Perhaps I will have need of your services… please await my reply.”
When the messenger’s bold and bright colored uniform was out of sight, the duke turned on his next appointment in a slow boiling fury. “Oddsman Willard… Oddsman Venn. what brings two masters of the guild to my chambers?” He asked calmly.
“It’s a legal matter, Uncle Siong… A ducal subpoena arrived two weeks ago, summoning a master of the guild to answer for some nonsense up north…” The Oddsman murmured nervously.
“So what matters this, to me? Sounds like guild business.” He barked.
“Your grace, master Kelli from the Surra town branch was dispatched, as the closest master…” Willard continued, seeming even more distraught and nervous. “That was a grievous error on the part of some faceless clerk in the guild hall dispatch service…” He complained bitterly.
“Yes?” The duke demanded, letting more of his ire escape into the room.
“We… we need her back, urgently.” He stammered quickly. “If you could request the discharge of her summons, another master could be there to replace her within a few days.”
Duke Wen stopped cold and eyed his nephew from head to toe. Even in an Oddsman’s robes and veil, his trembling nerves showed through. “So, you wish me to demand this ‘Kelli’ back so that you may substitute another master of your guild in her place…” He asked coldly. “And you consider this to be important enough to bring it to Me.”
Willard quailed under the duke’s gaze and tried to step back, only to bump into master Venn, right behind him. Trapped, the veiled lordling stammered and babbled out an excuse or three.
“Kelli is uniquely valuable, my lord… she has certain skills and knowledge that…” He stumbled to a halt under the ducal glare.
“Willard… you are my nephew, so I will not have you stripped naked and flogged in the public square… Here in this chamber, however…”
“She has the book, your grace. Really, she has both books.” He stammered desperately. “We are shit shafted down doo-doo mine, if we don’t get her back before midsummer!”
Willard turned bright red when he realized what he had said… and how he’d said it, to the duke, in his council chamber.
“Do you mean to tell me…” Wen asked in growing amusement. “...did some minor functionary from a nowhere town on the ass end of my domain, abscond with the Indenture Prospectus and the Fantasy Adventure League manuscripts and data?”
“No, your grace…” Willard babbled, while Venn kept kicking him in the heels as subtly as he could, trying to get the fool to shut up. “Kelli is the manuscript… and the data… it’s all…!”
“Gods damn your hide Willard!” Venn shouted, drawing the ducal guards, swiftly to his side. “Shut your filthy mouth Willard! Those are guild secrets! Don’t you say another wor…!” The chamber doors slammed closed behind the Oddsman and the two guardsmen who dragged him away.
“Willard, nephew Willard… What game are you playing at?” Wen hissed at the shaking noble. “Is there some plot afoot, or are you playing with me?”
“It’s true… my duke! We keep her out in the boonies for security reasons… It’s all super secret!” Willard sputtered. “I’ll get thrown out of the guild for sure if she got away…”
“Got away? Willard… What have you been doing?” Wen demanded. “What house is this ‘Kelli’ from? What is her title?”
“No titles, no house, your grace… we bought her… er, hired her, when she cashiered out of indenture. Old master Herringdon arranged it before he retired.” He looked even more terrified now, fidgeting in his robes under the duke’s glare. “She basically works for room and board, in total isolation and under guard. I don’t understand it, but that was the deal Herringdon made twenty years ago.”
“You left all your guild’s work in the hands of some… indentured orphan clerk? This sounds like an internal guild problem to me. If she’s some indentured clerk, send a missive to whatever lord summoned her. You can just recall your property and send a free master to replace her, or send a courier for your records and be done.” Wen snapped sharply. “Unless there is more hidden here than it seems…”
Willard wilted under that sharp eyed stare and began to speak quietly. “Kelli is defective, she has the mind of a child… Somehow though… somehow she has all the data, all the records, all the information in her head and ready at a moment’s notice… She is the book, without her, we can’t do it.”
“Do what? Update it?” Wen demanded.
“No, we can’t publish them. Not this year, maybe not next year, if we can’t get her back.” He mumbled in deep embarrassment.
“Wait… you are a master Oddsman, so is that other fool, why do you need this nameless clod, this mooncalf?” The duke was rapidly losing his patience and it showed.
“What do you do with your time, if this clerk savant ‘is the book’?”
Now Willard was really shuffling around under his robe. “I’m an administrator, uncle… It’s complex and demanding work…”
“So you’ve spent the last however many years with your thumb up your pert little bottom, while some orphan clerk did your job in silent obscurity… and now you want my help?” The furious lord demanded coldly.
“What do you offer, to induce me to stick my hand in this chamber pot and fumble around in the dark?”
“If we get her back, my lord… we will grant your grace access to her and her talents… they are startling in their scope, your grace.” Willard gasped desperately.
“Why do I need ‘access’ to your indentured clerk, and why are you so desperate to…” The duke let an evil smile crawl across his face. “She really is that special… and I suspect that your contract will not stand up to legal scrutiny… Have you been holding some poor orphan, idiot savant captive for decades and making her prepare your entire guild hall’s output?”
“Your grace… She collates and analyzes the entire guild’s output, as she has for twenty years…” He answered with an audible gulp.
“Our contract is complete shit. Herringdon and some backwoods lord screwed with the records, to leave her in permanent indenture, she doesn’t even have a single divine or spirit Contract, so no temple noticed the discrepancy.” He gasped out the truth and stood there, shaking in terror.
Duke Wen sat back and grinned, it was a wide and happy expression that sent a cold chill through master Oddsman Willard’s bowels. “What lord summoned this poor wretch? Some northerner you said?”
“Belen, my duke, she was summoned to Wheatford.” Willard gasped, barely restraining the urge to vomit.
“You let a valuable piece of property… property which you embezzled from me… escape into Belen’s hands… with your guild’s entire reason for existing?” He asked very softly.
“Not in so many words…” Willard fell silent when the duke’s smile hardened. “Yes, yes we did.”
“Willard, sit down and shut your fool mouth for once.” He snapped at his nephew. “Thomas, bring me that messenger… I will be needing her services.” A well dressed clerk rose and scampered for the antechamber door.
“Perhaps I will allow you access to this Kelli’s gifts and skills, when we are done with her… I understand that her talents are remarkable.” The duke sneered at his wilted kinsman.
#
Late afternoon found Gary and Rolf on the outskirts of town at War’s barns and stables. Several red clad figures lounged in the stands overlooking the training yard and lists, enjoying a late spring afternoon.
Rolf was back in his uniform armor, the shining plate mail of Order, emblazoned with the balanced scales of that cult. His small stature drew some looks at first; especially since he was mounted on Annie, who looked absurdly huge under the compact youth’s bottom.
Gary rode his foolish stick horse, keeping up with the gigantic familiar with ease, despite her long legged gait. More people stopped to stare at the madman and his strange device, cranking along with a soft whirr of metal gears and hardened gum rubber tires.
“You don’t really mean to ride that in the lists… do you?” Rolf asked with worry in his voice.
“Wait, I thought we were going to be practicing with the lance… not jousting!” Gary answered in alarm.
“We don’t generally use lances afoot, nor against static targets… I stopped shoving pointy sticks into straw bales when I was eight…” Rolf answered with dismay. “I hope you have higher aspirations than children’s games for today.”
The young lord cantered out onto the lists and blew a single blast on his horn. Several of the red clad figures hopped off the benches and trotted out, bearing large shields. Meanwhile, a groom sprinted up carrying a bamboo practice lance, which he handed the young knight.
“This is a popular game among the squires…” Rolf called, while examining his practice lance. “One of them has a blue shield and is wearing a blue sash. If I can strike him on his shield, I score a point. If they can defend him from my pass, they score. The game ends at three points, or if I‘m unhorsed or strike anything but a shield, or anyone but the blue sash, I forfeit. Loser buys dinner and drinks.”
Rolf saluted the young warriors in red armor with his lance and cantered to the far end of the lists. They fanned out with their big steel shields, doing their best to conceal and guard the one man in a bright blue sash.
At the sound of the groom’s horn, Rolf charged, thundering down the lists in a flurry of hooves and flashing steel. Man and horse flew down the track angling at the cluster of shield bearing youths gathered around their charge and guarding him with care. Once, twice, three times Annie and Rolf hurtled past, close enough that they felt the warmth of her body as she blew by. Each time the shield men held fast, blocking all sight of the target. Finally, Rolf got a glimpse of his prey, his lance flashed out, reaching for the elusive target and shattered on a plain steel shield, held by a grinning young warrior that looked hungry and thirsty.
Rolf collected another lance from the laughing groom and lined up to try again, while the boys scattered for a new position.
“Gary, I forgot to mention…” Rolf called out. “Either way, you’re providing dinner and the drinks… so that’s fun.”
“Thanks Rolf… thanks a lot!” He grumbled fondly at his friend, through his shiny new teeth.
#