Ch: 25.5 Twist or Squeeze
When Khan left the barracks to visit an old subordinate, Adventurer Kileen Maus, she told a tale even more fantastic.
“…the man swears to the gods, that a magic brothel appeared in the woods. Then a ‘pervert boy whore who can produce knives and clubs from nowhere’, attacked and chased him for miles through the forest.” She laughed as she told the tale. “Says he nearly died… and the priestess of Healer…” She giggled even harder. “turned him in to Order… for whoring, cause it’s illegal there!”
“That’s amusing… this man must be a loon…” Khan said, laughing awkwardly and recalling a tale told to him in a magic inn not long ago. “Who was this spinner of tall tales?” He asked mildly.
“Some wandering vagabond trading stories for ale on the road. Who knows.” She said, winking at him. “If drunken stories are what you want, we could go carousing like the old days… but now I’m not under your command.” She almost purred.
“Sadly, we depart at midday, though if you find yourself in Wheatford…” He trailed off, letting her come to her own conclusions.
She was not a beautiful woman by any measure, her face was scarred by acid across the right side leaving bare, stippled skin. She owned the mark by having it tattooed into an image of some imagined celestial body, a pockmarked moon bearing the faint image of a leaping rabbit, by a preternaturally skilled artisan.
Now, in profile she was a striking and exotic figure on the right and a mature and handsome woman on the left.
“Come, join me there Luna, we can start a group, like old times, but I’ll be under your command.” His smile spread slowly as he felt her feigned resistance weaken. “This town stinks, and you deserve better. We deserve better.”
He leaned in for the clincher. “Annie found a place she likes, she wants to live in Wheatford.” He said, pulling a small winter apple from his coat and offering it on his palm.
She eyed it suspiciously, making dramatic expressions to contort her tattoo in amusing ways. “That’s a pretty weak apple. I feel like Annie would have been better prepared.”
“She has faith in my charms and thought anything more would be excessive.” He huffed in mock outrage.
“Fortunately, my self esteem is in tatters, due to a years long impossible romance… it’s too, too tragic, don’t ask. So I came prepared…” From another pocket he plucked a round fruit, with a green spiky top and small golden scales.
He bounced it on his palm casually. “A friend of mine grows these. He's a strange kid, has a band of his own passing through town.”
Her eyes fixed on the fruit, watching it hungrily. “I haven’t seen a grenadier pear since the dandelion wine festival six summers ago… when you asked me to marry you. The first time.”
“I was planning on coming for you in the spring, as we planned. A friend suggested that I act now. She is very wise in these matters.” He said softly. “She said the wisest advice she ever heard was from a very great fool.”
“Ohh?” Luna breathed, standing too close to avoid touching. “What were the wise words from a fool?”
“The fool said; ‘Grab life by the ballsack and twist freindo, cause it won’t wait for you.’ my dear.”
He dropped to one knee and whispered tenderly. “I am just a man, holding a ballsack and wondering whether to twist or squeeze.” He looked up at her with tears gathering in his eyes.
“I will tell this story at our wedding you fool.” She said, Her single eye welling with unshed tears.
“My friend will help write our vows, for such a truly great fool, he is a fine poet and philosopher. You should come meet my new friends and run away with me.” He pulled her close and spoke softly, his face buried in her shoulder.
“I thought you were running away with me, because I am running away with Annie. I’m still a little hurt that she did not come.” She sulked even as she gathered the loops of two large duffle bags in her hands.
“Your landlord is a man of limited vision and little romance, thus, Annie is waiting with my friends.” Khan muttered with comic woe.
“Then I shall need a beast of burden to carry my baggage. I packed my gear, when I heard that Imran Khan had come skulking back into town.” She draped a bag over his shoulder and hefted one herself. “Away?”
“Away we go.” He said through a smile that threatened to eat his mustache.
They arrived at the barracks and found sir Brennan Fallon attempting to smooth talk his way past Shai with no success.
“He be injured an unconscious, ye dinna ken him and hae no need tae go in. I would fain tell his lordship tae begone…”
“Sir Brennan…If you get past mistress Shai, you will find Annie inside.” Khan sang cheerfully.
“You keep your horse in your barracks? That is despicable.” The knight muttered, but he stopped trying to get in.
Ivy and her shoppers clattered up at that point, further complicating the game. “I will visit again, at a more opportune time then. My best wishes for a speedy recovery.” He said smoothly, withdrawing as though nothing had occurred.
“Aye that one means nae good.” Shai muttered when he was gone. When her eyes fell on Luna, she started for a moment. “Khan, ye do hae company?”
Luna’s hair was dark brown and lustrous, though it only covered the left half of her scalp. Her acid scarred features had been wrought into a marvelous vision of a three quarter moon. Each crater and mark had been picked out in frightening detail. The marks and craters resolved into a leaping rabbit, if you looked just so.
She had one pale blue eye and the other covered by a slim leather patch tied on with a braided silk band. She was dressed in good leather, similar to Hanna’s work. There was a cased bow on her back and a spear propped on her shoulder
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Yes, I see Tawny and the others, let’s wait and go inside together.” Khan said, looking a little worried. “We will make introductions then.”
#
Khan’s friends were among the strangest groups she had ever encountered. Individually they were each unusual, together as a unit they boggled description.
A dutchess heir, traveling under a penitent’s veil. That tradition demanded that no preference for rank or nobility be shown to the wearer, until the veil was removed. It essentially declared her a peasant of the lowest class in rank. Woe betide the person who forced her to surrender the veil and wield her titles.
A red haired journeyman smith girl of the lowest common rank seemed to be in charge. She was a half civilized hill woman at that. Luna could scarcely imagine what might drive a journeyman smith into an Adventurer’s life, even a savage from the hills.
The one she would have expected to lead was a short dark haired young man with the bearing of nobility and the most extraordinary panoply. Yet he presented himself as a simple peasant, an orphan no less.
Another hillman was next, though this one was huge even by that tribe’s standards and another journeyman smith, stranger still. This one at least was civilized.
Next was a lovely blond commoner, with the brightest piercing blue eyes. She claimed to be a mage and an orphan. Who ever heard of an orphan mage? She had a giant dog familiar, so perhaps.
There was a slender boy, pale and red haired, but small and quick. He carried some odd weapon on his back and a guitar in his hand almost constantly. He seemed strangely driven but otherwise ordinary. That is what made him stick out in Luna’s mind.
Last was a tiny dark skinned wisp of a girl, Luna doubted she was old enough to have her moons yet, never mind become an Adventurer, yet her badge was there, worn proudly beside a well worn and serviceable rapier.
An invalid in the corner was strictly off limits, guarded by the savage smith woman named Shai.
“I am Killeen Maus, journeyman Adventurer and proud owner of Imran Khan, call me Luna.” She swept a complicated bow and smiled winningly. “I will be tagging along and abusing your legendary hospitality. At least until we reach Wheatford and Khan makes an honest woman of me.”
The little band welcomed her in readily. Though the atmosphere became strained whenever she mentioned, or came near the blanket wrapped bundle in the corner.
Once introductions were done they silently began packing up, displaying an almost eerie teamwork. They started by thickly padding the dog cart with the numerous blankets in the room. Ever so gently, the giant moved their pet invalid into the cart.
They began bringing things from the room to the savage redhead woman, who stuffed the objects carelessly into the cart on top of the injured person.
Pillows, more blankets, camp chairs, a gods damned bale of hay that must weigh as much as a good sized man! They just kept handing her goods and she stuffed them in somehow.
“Dimensional gift? That is rare! Why use the cart though?” Luna asked quietly.
“Shush love, not my tale to tell. They will afflict you with it soon enough I’m sure.” He grinned and kissed her excitedly. “Then you will know much less than you do right now. Enjoy the feeling while it lasts.”
Somehow the contents of the room, including an additional bale and a half of straw fit in that dog cart with the sickly man. The whole group was in motion by noon, with the slender young girl sweeping up the floor as they left. The precision of the operation was impressive.
At the inner gate a few eyebrows raised and a runner scampered off, but they were not slowed.
At the outer gate to the dock ward they were halted, just as Tawny drew a lacy white veil fully in front of her face and raised her hood.
“Pray travelers, stop for a moment.” A very polite guard corporal said, raising his hand rather than barring their way with his spear. “His lordship requests that you guest with him at the castle this evening.”
Liam stepped up, armored save for his mask, with his spear held comfortably at his shoulder. “You must be mistaken, we are simple Adventurers, our business is done and we are off into the wilds.”
“No My lord, this is the group.” The young corporal said. Beginning to sweat through his armor.
Liam smiled kindly at the man and asked so sweetly. “To whom is this invitation addressed?”
The corporal coughed and stood straight. “To the Lady Trelawny Belen, Dutchess Heir to Wheatford and Surrounds.” He almost sang, he had practiced.
Liam paused, and slowly looked over the group of friends. “The Lady Trelawny Belen, Dutchess Heir to Wheatford? She is certainly not here, we are but simple folk. Crafters and warriors seeking fortune.”
“Yes my lord.. and yet…” He began, only to be cut off by Liam.
“That lady is renowned across the land as the greatest beauty, I should certainly not hide the fact were she in my company. Cease your japes and let us pass as is the law.” Liam said, no longer friendly.
Brennan Fallon came trotting up, hair askew and coat only half buttoned. He ignored the corporal and keyed in on the dog cart.
He rode up near them from behind, calling out; “Lady Trelawny, My Uncle the baron wishes to guest your party at…”
Brennan was already kicking himself for not recognizing her at that insane house, now here she was under the damned veil. His uncle would have him digging latrines on a frontier outpost already if he had another viable heir. Now he had to dance on a knife’s edge.
“My apologies, some fool thought a notable personage was passing through.” He glared daggers at the corporal, just because he was there and thought fast.
“Corporal, search this dog cart for contraband. I believe I smell redleaf in the vicinity.” He smiled serenely. “Wait, I will help you since I am here.” He said dismounting and approaching the cart.
The smith bristled like an angry badger when he approached, but the small one in armor held her back. He stuck his head over the rim of the cart and found, not much.
A pile of bedding, and a man swathed in bandages from collar to hips, he tugged the bedding and bandages away to be certain. That elicited a growl from somewhere in the group.
He wasn’t even remarkable, unremarkable in fact. This was the most boring and uninteresting near corpse he had ever encountered. As he examined the nearlifeless mess he caught the faint whiff of putrefaction. If not for the faint twitching of the thing’s right hand, toying with some ring, he would assume it was as good as dead.
“Be sure to bury that correctly, don’t want it dug up and dragged into the dock ward.” He complained, dropping the bedding back down.
An hour later, he realized there might have been something going on with that wretch in the cart. ‘No, impossible.’ He thought, dismissing that nagging idea.
#
“An we encounter that man in the wilds, it shall be a perilous time.” The smith woman snarled, she radiated her rage as a palpable field of heat.
The tiny girl hugged her as they walked, it was touching. Luna could tell it was only a little bit for the raging blaze the woman was emitting into the cold day.
Still the smith never strayed from that cart. Luna never heard or saw movement within, yet the woman never checked on her charge.
They continued on the road until long after Khan would ordinarily have called a camp, on the advice of the impressive small warrior.
At sundown, just as she was about to scold Khan for making them set camp in the dark, they halted. Tawny (not the duchess heir she reminded herself), Shai the smith and the small one, Liam were consulting quietly by the cart.
“Is he still out?” Liam asked
“Aye, mostly. We dinae let him marinate long enough, twas bad judgment on mine part.” Shai said, in her upcountry brogue.
“Can you do it alone?” Tawny asked.
“An I kinnae, we sleep cold this night.” She replied cryptically.
The others withdrew as the smith pulled out a violin and began to play. The woman wore an elaborate net of bells and chimes around her hips, they had been an amusing distraction all day. Almost as though her jingling chimes made the miles fly by faster.
As she played, the bells at her hips, a silly affectation that had been entertaining, began to chime in harmony with her instrument.
Luna was entranced, gone was the crude and brusque blacksmith, this creature floated across the meadow as a moonlit dream. The song was simple, one of the common airs played on market days by local musicians. Perhaps that very familiarity made it so profound…
When the mist cleared from her eyes, there was a gods damned inn standing where the meadow was a moment before.
“Khaaan!” She shouted. “I had planned to marry you, keep you around for a while and kill you mercifully some bright morning…” She was stomping his way with fury on her face.
“You are unworthy of that mercy, I will kill you, animate your corpse, marry that, then bury you in…” Khan swept her up and kissed her deeply while she kicked him in the shins.
Once the rest of the crew was inside, including the invalid, Khan carried her over the threshold, it was corny and sweet, like the man himself.
When they were settled she eyed her man and growled. “What are we in the middle of?”
Khan looked to the smith woman of all people, waited for her nod and began a story.
“This house is the product of two special young people, they come as a pair. One is an orphan who will be indentured. This makes everyone sad.” They all nodded as one, that was creepy.
Khan continued on, never the less. “We are going to screw that up, with legal shenanigans and tomfoolery. That will make everyone happy.” They all nodded again. “Each member of the group has a similar nut to crack, so we will be working together on that.”
He looked around the group and received polite applause.
“Thank you, I have been working on that all day.” He said to his audience.
“So Shai, the woman, who is the other?” Luna asked.
“You haven’t met him yet, he’s not well.” Khan said, eying the mostly dead form and hoping for a miracle.
“Too bad Miracle Max died last winter. That old mage knew his way around a pill press.”
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