Ch: 267 Bad Company
The fourth platoon of War usually rode out of Herndon town, as the town’s primary fast moving response team. They spent more time in the saddle these days and less time at home by far. Being one of the youngest and least experienced platoons of light lancers in the duchy had its downsides, but not today.
Gerard woke from a comfy bedroll to the scent of hot coffee and wallowbear bacon over a campfire, That was nice… The scent of hot biscuits got him out of the warm, snug bundle quicker than finding a wandering scorpion in there could have.
The man on dawn watch shift was Perry, that worthy was holding a coffee mug and chatting amiably with the small dark girl with her hair all in a sensible plait and a rapier on her hip. “It runs on your innate Mana, I could explain how the energy transfer works, but you’d get a headache and I’m still waking up… it’s a magic camp oven.” She yawned hugely and grinned, making the pre-dawn camp seem brighter.
“New things are coming up all around us… We live in a ‘Freakin’ magical world of wonders’!” She sang her last words with a lilting cadence and an odd accent, in imitation of someone. Perry shrugged, while a young handsome, dusky skinned lad emerged from a tent, knuckling his eyes.
“Kerms! Good morning!” She sang cheerily.
“It should bother me that your bedrolls are comfier than my bed at home.” He murmured as she handed him a steaming mug. “You Wards are early risers…”
“It’s already dawn in Wheatford… halfway to second bell.” She pointed at the mountain peak behind them, shading the pass and prolonging the morning darkness. “Port Ellis by fifth bell, then back the way we came. The fourth will continue their patrol ride without us.”
She nodded to the waking camp and smiled. “Ivy and Tallum are finally moving… let’s go see the horsies with Shai.” She giggled at the face he made.
“Drink up, eat, we ride in a half hour, you bunch of slug-a-beds!” She complained happily at Kermal and the mismatched pair yawning beside the camp stove.
They rolled into the foothills by lunch and hit town by third bell, making the downhill run in a smooth pleasant cloud of music and clattering hooves. Becky and Kermal rode together, chatting and swaying as she strummed her harp along with Shai and Ivy’s instruments.
Tallum was driving the wagon, with a few extra mounts following along, including a massive, gentle spirited draft animal for Tallum to ride. He seldom mounted, preferring a cart or his own feet when he could get away with it.
The big man spent most of the trip trotting along beside the donkey, leading her by the halter and chatting with Ivy, buoyed by the tireless energies of the music. They rumbled through the outskirts of town and around the city proper, to War’s stables and barns, by the seaside gate.
The fourth took the Adventure Wagon and rolled down the coast road for Port Fallon, planning to make a loop and end up back in Herndon in a week or so.
The Adventurers split off with friendly waves to their comrades from War at the dock ward, heading for the Tangled Net inn. Under a sign depicting a drunken fisherman, sitting on a ball of wadded up fishing net with a mug in hand, with a wide porch and a fine view of the harbor it seemed a nice place..
The common room was clean and tidy, with only a few guests to be seen lingering over mugs and plates. Becky strolled up to the woman behind the bar and smiled. “We’re Ginger Dreadnought, here for the Iron Owl company’s representatives.”
She smiled pleasantly down at the small girl dressed to play adventurer and shook her head. “Fun and games are fine, child. Now go play…” Kelly Buncham had been running the Tangled Net for a few years now, but an orphan girl barely old enough to bleed with an Adventure badge was too much.
“Shoo child, I simply don’t know what’s going on at that orphanage lately!”
She leaned up to the bar, still smiling pleasantly and held her badge up for a better view. “Really… are my clients here?”
“Girl, I have work to do… toddle on!” Kelly barked, reaching for a broom to chase the riff raff out. “Wretched urchin, be on your way before I beat you!”
#
“Tallum, go see what’s taking her so long, please?” Ivy asked her giant, while she was busy pursuing a merchant stall selling exotic spices. “Lemme have samples of these three… and some of those emerald star anise…” She gave him a swat on the bottom to send the huge man off, while she continued dealing. “Is that ghost pipe fungus? I need a pound of that…”
Tallum ducked through the doorway and into the pleasant dimness of the place and frowned. Becky was over in the corner scolding the barkeeper over a broken broom, lying on the floor. She was really tearing strips off of the stout tavern keeper, while the woman backed farther into the corner than should have been possible for a person of her girth.
“...next time you swing a broom at someone, better be damn sure they won’t shove it up your…!”
“Journeyman Tallum?” Journeyman Otto of the Iron Owl and Adventurer Lindsey had been watching the show from across the room, unaware of their own role in the farce...
When Kelly, the barkeeper swung a broom at the young girl in light armor of odd design, they had been drawn to the action.
The child’s lightning quick movements were a blur to Otto, but Lindsey smiled with approval, as the small girl slipped under the broom shaft with sublime grace. Her small, dark hand lashed upwards with a vicious strike that shattered the broom handle with a sharp crack.
The tiny waif grabbed the front of the woman’s bodice with her other hand, knotting her fist in the barkeeper’s ribbons and laces, drawing the taller woman down for a close up scolding.
“...sideways so far, you’ll need a dungeon delver to haul it out of your…” She barked in the woman’s face, driving her farther back behind the bar with little more than a sharp tongue and a severely pointed finger.
“...until someone invents a way to cure stupid, you’d best just keep your hands and broom to yourself! Now where are my clients?!”
Otto recognized the huge ginger smith immediately when he squeezed through the door and frowned at the scene.
“Becky… Trouble here?” He rumbled, from a terrible height.
“Journeyman Tallum, are you our escort to Wheatford?” Otto asked cheerily. “Is this one of your apprentices? She’s feisty!”
“Becky is an apprentice Adventurer…” The big man rumbled. “Don’t underestimate her though, so am I.” He ducked under a ceiling beam and collected his small, angry colleague. “I’m a journeyman smith… Sergeant Becky’s my superior.” He answered drily, while the girl kept glaring at the bartender. “Becky, meet journeymen Otto and Lindsey, of the Iron Owl, we met in Port Sunderland.”
The ferocious girl became all smiles and charming graces a moment later, the barkeep forgotten, beyond the girl taking a moment to kick the broken broom off into a corner with a sneer for her foe. “Let’s blow this dump, before I decide to break anything else.”
“Aye aye, sergeant.” The Giant answered calmly with a placid, disinterested stare for the barkeeper. The giant and his clients followed sergeant Becky out and down the road a short way, to a nearby pasture of windblown grass and sandy soil, where the others waited.
“We’ll be moving quickly, we have mounts for you, I assume you both can ride?” She didn’t even wait for an answer, she just kept going as they walked along.
“...in Wheatford by late afternoon tomorrow, so we will have plenty of time to go over the particulars. Any questions?”
“Just one…” Otto answered sheepishly. “Are all of you…” He shifted around nervously. “Are you all so…”
“Adventurers, buddy. We come in all shapes and sizes…” She winked at him, before darting into the embrace of a towering ginger woman he remembered being with that odd fellow.
The red haired giantess with the atrocious accent spun the journeyman Countsman around her fingers and entangled him in her little troupe with surprising flair, style and hospitality.
The woman was aggressively welcoming and hospitable, sometimes it felt to the accountant that he was under the influence of a subtle magical effect… But who would cultivate a magical ability like that?
‘Madness.’ He thought. ‘I must be tired.’
#
Gary was lying on the lawn among the kids again, battered, bruised and exhausted, while Rolf sparred with Jocomo bare handed. It was terrifying! The sleeves of their garments really made whip cracking and wind rippling sounds, as they flashed around the garden almost too fast to follow.
Rolf was a bare handed prodigy, with a talent for wrestling and submission holds he’d honed in his duties for some time now. There were few times in peaceful Wheatford that a knight with a sword was needed… but just the whisper of Rolf’s approach ended most fistfights and general hooliganism swiftly. The occasional tough guy merchant’s guard or traveling idiot determined to start trouble never needed a second ‘instructional session’ from the young knight of Order.
His equally skilled opponent had a vastly different style, but they were well matched. His fast moving, hard striking style was aggressive and potent…
Jocomo had to move briskly and mind his footwork and contact, lest he find himself grabbed by the larger, broader young man. Despite being two years Joco’s junior, Rolf blocked, parried and evaded with a sure and calm confidence born of experience and long training.
He slid like a shadow through the garden, graceful and quick, driving Jocomo back with steady attacks from both hands and feet.
Two swift open handed slaps to the chest left the smaller assassin vulnerable, as he tried to catch his breath and balance… the kid was strong! The burly, blond knight tried to sweep his feet, but the small man was too quick. He caught a kick to the lower abdomen just in time, rolling over and around the knight’s leg. He tucked forward over his surprised opponent’s hip into a smooth somersault.
Tossing himself behind Rolf was tricky, once he stuck his landing, he leapt back in a handspring, dodging the inevitable follow on attack from his foe.
Joco’s slippered foot lashed out, taking Rolf in the side of the head, sending the bigger man staggering. He sprang off his toes, lunging forward with a shoulder rush that pushed the bigger man off balance, while the dark haired warrior’s fist played Rolf’s ribcage like a xylophone.
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They crashed to the lawn together, gasping and grinning like idiots. “Men…” Tawny complained mildly, while administering a healing spell with her long willow wand.
“Go on, hit the baths, all of you men. Children, story time with Gabbie, she’s reading two more chapters of Oliver Twist, then lunch!”
Tawny ran the house with a satisfied smile, while Liam tended the shop, bustling around in his herbs and ingredients with a calm, confidence that seemed almost relaxed.
Liam smiled at his golden woman, herding the rambunctious, unruly kids inside… She had Amy, Rio and Wilf following along too. Gary was battered and barely staggering along, since Tawny’s spells did little for his odd biology, The little ones helped him off to the grotto to sleep it off before lunch, when he would be fit once more.
“We could go another round or two before lunch… Come on Tawny!” Rolf complained sourly.
Liam leaned on the shop counter and watched his mad little family goof around from his peaceful domain…
The shop bell rang as a middle aged man with a gap toothed smile strolled up to the counter.
“I’ve a comrade with a queasy belly in my wagon, word is there’s an herbalist here?” He shrugged and winked. “My friend ate something from a stall...”
“Lead on, I’ll take a look at him.” Liam took a moment to gather a few supplies and stepped from behind the counter with an eager grin.
“It’s a way off, on the far edge of the district.” He muttered apologetically.
“No trouble… just a moment.” He re-emerged, smiling and eager for a stroll in the market and a little medical duty. “I was planning on strolling the market this afternoon anyway, perhaps I should bring a friend, she’s an acolyte of Healer.”
“Oh, we shouldn’t trouble one of Dana’s blessed ones for a little rumbly tumbly…” The man protested awkwardly. “We were leaving town when he fell ill.”
“Very well, lead on… I’ll tend your comrade and you can be on about our day. Is it the fried river carp?” He walked on purposefully, forcing the man to follow or be left behind. “I have no Idea how that man stays in business!”
Out by the managed forest, past the community garden they came to a good sized wagon with a four horse team in harness and ready to roll. “He’s in the back, feeling poorly…” A grandfatherly, balding man murmured with relief when the young man followed his comrade into the pleasant, sheltered pasture, separated from the road by a hedgerow and a few trees.
Liam climbed up onto the wagon and peered into the canvas covered bed, when he heard a muffled cry behind him and the lights went out.
#
Liam woke in utter darkness, surrounded by the clatter and bang of a thousand poorly played drums. He could barely move at all, it almost felt like he’d been sewn into a sack…
“Well, shit.” He mumbled through a gag, ‘cause he’d been sewn into a sack. The surface he lay on was curved, slightly rough and smelt of old wine…
He’d been sewn up and packed in a barrel, in that wagon and headed up the road no doubt, judging by the noise… with a significant head injury that made staying conscious pretty…
#
Eustace sat the driver’s bench and griped quietly at his passenger. “...Three extra girls!? Sent you in for one teenage orphan and you come back with a fistful of liabilities…” He fumed and fussed, but Barry knew the look on his face.
That dark haired tall girl was worth at least a gold moon in Port Burndown’s slave market, the two ten year olds… There was always a good market for those, especially a matched pair!
“We got the boy, the others are a bonus, quit complaining… and keep your hands off them. If you have to stick your dick in something, use the boy. Contract said intact, nothing about keeping him unspoiled.”
“That’s fine for Eustace…” Lathrop grumbled. “I don’t like boys.” They both ignored the big man’s complaints.
“You planned this!” The old carter grumbled. “That’s why you wanted extra sacks and barrels!”
“I’d have snatched a few more, but those girls are too good a score.” He answered with the charming, boyish grin that made him so successful. “We’ll ship out of Port Ellis and none’s the wiser… all nice and above board seeming.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the plan before?” Eustace complained.
“Cause you’re an idiot.” Barry snapped at the old wagonmaster. He turned on Lathrop and smiled pleasantly. “If you behave I might let you have a go at her mouth… once we’re at sea.” He said with a grin, leaning back on the wagon load of mostly empty wine barrels. “After a couple days packed in a keg, most are pretty accommodating.”
“Gotta get there first.” Theodore snapped from the trail position. “Don’t get cocky. Olivia’s team got wiped in this sleepy little town on, this same contract, just a simple snatch and grab...” He broke off suddenly with a grunt of disgust. “Ghaa! The spiders around here!”
#
Evening found the little troop and their clients from the Iron Owl in the high foothills, in a clearing among the oaks and manzanita. Their musical prancing flight had been a whirl of colors and sensations, now they were preparing to camp as the sun fell into the shallow sea behind them.
“Bit late to camp… we’ll be sleeping rough tonight.” Otto mumbled softly. “I’d sleep on a bed of cactus for this opportunity though.” He sighed wistfully.
“Stifle that Otto… these kids are that mad boy’s people. Adventurers talk and word gets around.” Lindsey whispered urgently. “Word is they like things, comfy.”
“Have I mentioned that you’re beautiful when you say silly things in a scary way?” He asked with the cheeky, boyish grin that made him so successful. “So spooky! ‘They like things… Comfy’!” He whispered harshly, imitating her voice poorly.
“We do like things comfy…” Sergeant Becky sang, in girlish tones of winsome delight. “We will have everything ready shortly, relax while we prepare camp… a warning though. The local spiders are active hunters at twilight and are quite timid… Please don’t frighten them.”
She swiftly set up a pair of folding camp chairs and a bloody tea table, with a steaming kettle. Small, colorful tents and clever folding cots appeared all around, popping up quickly, like colorful mushrooms after a rainstorm. Soon a bright, cozy and decidedly comfy camp had been assembled all around them, while they enjoyed a cup of tea.
#
“Where’s Liam?” Gary asked when he wandered out of the grotto looking for lunch.
“He went to go see a man about a digestive problem.” Tawny murmured, looking mildly concerned.
“Fried carp?” Gary mumbled in amusement. “How does he stay in business…? Maybe the trauma of the explosive diarrhea is causing event specific amnesia?”
“It’s been almost two hours, Gary.” She spoke quietly, but with an urgent sound in her voice.
“Stay with the kids, I’ll check on him.” He stepped out into the garden and closed his eyes, feeling around for the pieces of himself strung in Liam’s gear. If he was in town or within a few miles, a tingling in his shadow, as his Ka sought to reassemble itself, should have told him where, or at least which direction he was in.
There was nothing out there. Plenty of his handiwork and craft, the shop behind him was stuffed with it and more scattered all around town, but nothing of Liam’s.
“Weird…” He muttered.
“Gary, someone’s here asking for you.” Gabbie called from the house.
He went back in with Tawny behind him and found Issac, the big burly orphan Adventurer from the Red Ascots, looking worried. “It’s Collette… I haven’t seen her all day… Someone said Polly and Molly were missing too!”
“Polly and Molly, the blonde twins?” He asked, as his face darkened. “Ring the bell… something’s up!” He shouted, as he rushed off to check his own inventory of kids.
#
The rumbling stopped, followed by nothing, just silence for an interminable period where he may or may not have been fully awake. When the rumbling started again it seemed even louder and went on forever. In the hot stifling dark, his biological functions continued… and things best not discussed, had to happen. The darkness of unconsciousness was a welcome relief from the stench and general unpleasantness. When the rumbling stopped again, silence descended for a while…
Eventually, terribly, awfully later, something new happened. His barrel shifted and creaked, as the cover was removed and he was dragged out by his ankles. Intense agony rippled through his abused and restrained body as he straightened out at last.
“Gods! The stench! Puts me off… mostly.” A slightly familiar voice muttered. He felt his sack being dragged over the ground to the sound of running water nearby, battering him across stones and other hard objects.
The man continued his grumbled complaints. “Gotta wash it first… too much like work…”
With a heave, Liam flew a short distance and splashed down in a pool of water. The man seized him and roughly peeled the groggy lad out of his befouled sack, leaving him bound, gagged, nude and filthy in a shallow mountain stream.
Rough, careless hands crudely washed his bound body, taking slightly more care and entirely too many liberties with his downstairs.
The man grabbed him by the hair and roughly yanked the gag from his mouth, before dropping him back in the shallow water. “Drink up boy. I’ll have something for you to eat in a minute…” The naked, letch said with a grin, waving his half erect cock at the bound lad.
The fellow who’d lured Liam into this mess, appeared on the stream bank above them. “Gods damn it Eustace!” He shouted from the stream bank. “I said when we’re at sea!”
“You said I could fuck this one! You promised! I won’t cut him up… not much… he’s so pretty!” The old perv shouted up at his comrade. “He’ll be alive! I promise!”
“He’d better still have his dick too, they want the whole boy!” The man grumbled as he wandered back into the bushes.
“Now… let’s get you fed… no biting, mind you…” Eustace said with a smile as he turned back to his morning’s entertainment. “Where’d you go?”
Eustace scrambled down stream, searching for his trussed up treat in desperation. “Barry’ll kill me if I lost him…”
After several minutes of frantic searching, all he found was a few strands of rope, neatly cut, tangled in a weedy backwater a quarter mile down stream. The old pervert paused and looked for signs of a trail in the banks…
He felt a slight pinch at the base of his neck, while he stood there considering the problem.
That was when the naked boy stepped out of the bushes beside him. “Hey…!” He tried to say, as his head toppled to his feet, in the fast flowing, bright crimson stream.
It was pretty embarrassing when his body toppled over, landing buns up on his own rapidly dying skull. The last sight his darkening vision perceived, was his own wrinkled tackle, draped over his own face.
Liam shook a few droplets of red from his sword, as his armor began appearing from his storage gift. He couldn’t summon it onto himself like Gary, the impossible fool, but it didn’t take long.
He vanished into the dawning woodland like a ghost’s shadow in soft slippers, his angry, feral smile hidden behind his mask.
#
The morning sun shone down bright and clear as they crested the mountains. Shai and Becky rode at the front with Tallum and Ivy trailing. Luna rode with their nervous clients, chatting amiably. The spiders had been ‘active’ in the way a thunderstorm can be ‘soothing’. Up close and separated from the enormous crawling creatures by only a tent made of cloth… it was not restful. Breakfast had been delightful and not a single person or mount seemed to have been molested or bitten… Until poor Becky’s unfortunate encounter…
#
“Uliki’litch, the twolegs are attacking each other… I’m unsure what to do…” Leili’tciliket chittered uncomfortably, her pedipalps writhing and chewing in agitation. She danced on the tips of her rear six as her people do. Waving her front legs in supplication of lady Thirp’s wisdom.
“Be at ease, sister funnelweb… I’ll send Vince to ask Deadminder… She is up the valley and headed this way, praise Deadminder and her pathetic walking husk! The young Prophetess is with her, praises to Thirp and Knowledge! He will jump at the chance!”
He bobbed and skittered with happiness at the prospect of actually meeting the twolegs who’s blessed task was to care for lady Thirp’s shadowbound mortal vessel. “Jump…” He giggled. “I made a funny, Vince can’t jump at all!”
#
Vince the black widow had to put up with a lot of shit. First as a gay, male widow, there was a whole, ‘what, are ya scared?’ element he did not enjoy dealing with.
That was its own whole thing and sucked. But he also had a super short name… They were dicks about that too.
As usual, Vince was hanging from a thread in a hemlock tree, meditating alone when the furry priest found him.
“Deadminder and the Prophetess? You want me to meet them? I’m honored… but they’ll be here in a few hours anyway, if the scouts are right.”
“You know how things are on the web… bouncing around until who knows what’s true.” He sighed up at the slender filaments in the trees above the temple clearing. “The pop ups are the worst.” He sighed. “I caught a mantis in my communication lines last week. I swear it signaled an apology before it untangled itself….”
“I hate the adds. When some rando just attaches to your connection and starts using up all your bandwidth…” Vince sighed. “What were we talking about?”
“You, going up the mountain to talk to deadminder about the running human battle in our woods?” He muttered in mild annoyance mixed with amusement.
“You’re sexy when you’re snarky, it fires up my fur fetish, Jumpies…” He whispered that pet name, as he spun his threads into the sky. With a faint ripple of breeze, he was gone, snatched into the sky by his gift from the spirit of Air.
#
Someone screamed in mortal terror as a nightmare beast descended from the sky, landing right on Becky’s bodice front, where it clung with eight, shiny brown legs and its horrid, terrifying shiny brown… everything else.
“Otto, Please, stop screaming…” Lindsey shouted in his ear for some reason. That was when he realized he was the one wailing in mortal dread.
“Trouble on the road ahead. Let’s move out!” The tiny woman shouted, leaning forward on her dust brown pony, with a spider as big as a housecat on her shoulder.
“Someone’s fighting, sounds like bandits!”
“Ivy, Tallum, stay with our client. Let’s go!” Luna shouted, as Camelia surged forward on the downhill side.
#
Theodore and Barry began to get concerned when Eustace never came back… The leader went down by the stream, with fury building in his bowels; certain he was going to find the lad they’d worked so hard to capture dead, and that wretched old cannibal snacking on his dick. “I’m going to kill him if he fucked up this job…”
Instead, he found nothing at all. Not even a corpse… “Did that perv steal him and run off…?” He muttered angrily, while considering how he was going to make that old shit suffer.
He stomped back to the clearing and found still, no fucking Eustace and no boy… Barry snarled at his remaining warriors. “Theo, Lathrop, Drew, go find Eustace and that catamite before he’s ruined. I want the boy back… slit the old man’s belly and string him up for the wildlife.” His three comrades nodded and vanished into the bush.
Veteran warriors all, they would have the boy back in whatever condition he was still in soon… Barry told himself firmly, while checking on the remaining prizes. Todd and Zee were scouting their backtrail, leaving Barry feeling exposed and vulnerable. He shook off the ominous sensation and settled in to work. He busied himself getting the wagon ready to roll, after checking his three remaining captives were still packed away.
He was going to enjoy washing those girls down, once they were safely at sea. Barry smiled happily and whistled a pleasant tune as he hitched the team up, thinking on the profits and pleasures this job was going to deliver… Even if that old letch ruined the big prize.
#