Ch: 268 Misty Mountain Hop

Rolf and Jocomo spent an hour in the bath, discussing the finer points of their disciplines and recovering with tea and snacks. “What are these things? Some local delicacy?” Joco asked, holding up half of a sugar dusted square of dense orange gel.

“No, those are a new innovation, they promote rapid recovery after exertion, injury or healing magic…” The young knight murmured contentedly.

“They are primarily apricot paste, mixed with gelatin, some medicinals and exotic salts… Liam developed them for horses, interestingly enough.”

“It’s not particularly delicious, but it was strangely satisfying. Makes me want more tea…” Jocomo said around the other half of the sweet, sticky cube. “Do they have a name?”

“No, they don’t.” Rolf gritted his teeth as he lied, the discomfort and penance that would be required were worth it…

Tawny dashed into the bath in a panic, desperate for her younger brother’s aid, ending their discussions.

The general alarm went up after Rolf started banging the market ward bell. Terse and rapid questions were asked and more promised to come, as riders fanned out and the city gates closed to all departing transport.

Gary was a frantic, half panicked mess; but a mess with three little ones and limited ability to do much beyond fret and mind his children as the long day wore on without solid news or any leads.

He pulled them all close at bedtime, and still had to work hard at his meditation practices to get to sleep.

“Babe… Liam and some other orphans are missing.” He sputtered into her shoulder the moment Shai arrived in his dreamworld.

#

In a misty, mountain forest, a large man in leather armor was following a very faint trail… a person had passed by recently, a skilled woodsman, but not skilled enough to… Theo brought his sword up and spun just in time, parrying a thrust for his heart, lunging from behind. The blade scored a long, shallow gouge in his breastplate as the attacking warrior passed close by with swift, confident movements.

A small man wearing armor fashioned in the image of a stalking mountain lion prowled the clearing, his sword flicking left and right like an angry cat’s tail in the misty morning light.

“Foully done, attacking from behind…” Theo grumbled. “Dishonorable!”

In reply, the man danced forward in a swift and agile series of attacks that pushed the larger man halfway into the stream, among the slick, mossy stones and fast flowing water. The silent stranger’s blade seemed to be everywhere at once, scoring several shallow cuts to Theodores’ light leather armor and throwing him off balance in the treacherous footing.

Theodore smiled slightly, as his feet found a solid surface to spring off in the streambed.

“Die in silence then… Or maybe I’ll get you to scream!” The big man shouted, charging forward in a wild rush, sweeping his sword in scything arcs, counting on sheer aggression to overwhelm the smaller man.

He had more to say and big plans for later, but all that came from Theo’s mouth was a rush of hot, coppery blood… There was a lot of it too… The cat armored man vanished into the woods in silence, as the stream flowed crimson again.

#

Lathrop and Drew stalked the woods together, slinking forward in turns, listening for any anomaly and slowly searching for a trail…

They found Eustace in a pleasant little sandy spot where the stream passed through a meadow. The old cart driver’s butthole staring into the sun, while his face peered out from behind his own withered ballbag, looking out his own back door, as it were...

“Kinda fitting, ending up with his own dick in his face.” Drew muttered, as they scanned the surrounding forest for signs of enemies.

“Think the kid got loose? Or do we have company in these woods?” Lathrop asked softly. “Drew…?”

Drew was in no condition to answer, with a long, shiny steel blade jutting from his breast. The blade withdrew as he fell, with a perplexed expression on his face.

Drew was still falling, when a brown blur launched at Lathrop, steel flashing in the sun and darting at his vitals. He parried one and the another of the man’s thrusts, cautiously backing away from the compact, dangerous foe. The small warrior pressed in with a quick and vicious slash for the slaver’s lightly armored belly. He swept his sabre across in a desperate parry, which snapped with a musical note, a bare six inches above his guard. They stood, breast to breast for a moment, the taller man holding the brass guard and a few inches of much abused steel. Before the sundered blade stabbed into the forest loam a few feet away, Lathrop was in motion.

The slaver spun on his heel and leapt, igniting his gift for speed and flying back up the path, leaving a trail of thick red splashes on the thirsty soil...

#

Barry had two of the draft horses hitched, finally… and was leading the third over to the wagon, when Lathrop came running out of the woods, bleeding from the abdomen. He dashed for the horseline and cut his mount free with his broken sword.

Bareback and clutching his left side, Lathrop turned his spooked animal to the road and bolted for Port Ellis. He spurred the beast and charged away with a wild, terrified look on his face and not a word for his leader…

The horse line went limp, cut by his own man, sending restless animals in a few directions. While Barry was still stunned by his comrade’s headlong flight, a horrendous stink bomb went off among the mounts, taking them from nervous and spooked, to panicked. Headlong flight was suddenly all the rage, as they pelted down the mountain, back towards Wheatford in a tight herd. Barry watched his chances of escape dwindle as the beasts dashed away. Chasing them meant certain capture and doom.

The brown armored man with a bloody sword who stepped into the clearing was enough for Barry, he vaulted onto the draft animal he was leading and spurred the beast mercilessly, following that coward Lathrop up the mountain for Port Ellis and the ship waiting for them, so far away across the pass.

Barry cursed Wheatford and the unfair world in general, as he rode for his life on a cart horse’s broad, lumbering back.

#

The Ginger Dreadnought crew moved out early, with a sense of urgency and impressive speed. The lighthearted musical antics of the day before were replaced by a marching tune and a much more restrained pace. The kids went in full kit and were on the alert for trouble… Otto noticed nothing, as anything more densely wooded than a suburban neighborhood was a dangerous jungle to his mind.

Lindsey noted their behavior though… and approved, whatever the reason. ‘The local spiders are cause enough for wariness.’ She reflected silently.

It was still early, when a spider bigger than a pigeon swooped down from the sky, onto the small, slim girl’s chest. That triggered all manner of activity, just not any that the petrified arachnophobe expected… The fool kids responded by moving faster!

Shai plucked a martial tattoo on her violin, following Becky’s harp line, letting their gifts support each other and speed the group along. The two women at the front were moving abreast, with the others in a staggered column.

The sound of irregular hoof beats approaching, stopped the music as two men appeared riding badly exhausted animals with bleeding flanks from their spurs.

“Hold, we are a registered Adventure band! State your affiliation!” Becky called to the riders.

The man in the lead drew a javelin from behind his saddle and charged Becky with a wild cry of desperation. Bareback, seated badly and on a horse that was done with his bullshit, his lance form was poor indeed. The point of his weapon threatened the sky and earth, as often as it did the young armored girl on a dust brown pony, who had banished her harp for a small round buckler and a long, sturdy rapier.

The would be lancer’s trailing comrade dug his own spurs into his draft animal’s lathered flanks… Who promptly bucked him off and onto the pavers, where his heels drummed on the stones briefly with a musical jingling chime, in an otherwise unmoving heap. The big draft horse wisely turned back down the mountain road and left the scene.

Sandi leapt forward at the lightest touch of Becky’s heels, surging at the mare with a whinny of challenge. The lathered, heaving, sweaty mare had enough and broke stride, spoiling the lancer’s already shaky strike.

Becky swayed around his point, deflecting it up and away with her rapier and further improved her already superior positioning. As they passed, her blade flashed three times, cutting his reins, right forearm and right thigh in rapid succession...

Unbalanced, off rhythm and now without reins and bleeding, the man tumbled into a drainage ditch while his mount ran on up the mountain alone.

Luna swung from the saddle, while Dannyl leapt down and dashed into the fray, his whip rasping and coiling across the pavers like an angry serpent.

The battle was done before he even began, the cart horse rider was dead, his head twisted at an impossible angle and staring at the sun with a confused expression. The guy in the ditch must have already been in rough shape… A wound to his left side opened in the fall, spilling most of his vital contents into the mud, weeds and gravel. He wheezed his last breath, while Dannyl was deciding whether to end him quickly, as a mercy.

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#

Todd and Zee rode back into camp, tired, sore and suddenly confused. Most of the horses were gone and the teenage girl was dressed in too small men’s clothing huddled beside the two blondes Barry had caught.

At the front of the group stood a small man in elaborate armor holding a very shiny spear.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck?” Vee demanded using up most of his vocabulary in one go.

In complete silence, he charged the two mounted men. He spun his sparkling blade in the sunlight, the enamel and jewels dancing in their horses’ eyes, spooking the exhausted beasts. He dashed between their rearing mounts, fearless of the hooves flying above him, blocking Todd’s sword thrust with his spear. Vee’s cudgel made no impression on the armored man, as he passed by, neatly slicing Todd’s saddle girth.

Vee tried to wheel his mount to follow the fast moving man, when a wild animal attacked him in the saddle. Raking claws tore at his face, as the nameless teenaged girl grappled him out of his seat and down onto the ground. He landed with a bone rattling impact, flat on his back on the earth, with the girl on top of him in a decidedly unsexy way.

He’d had a few fantasies of how this would play out, if he got a shot at her, this one was not in his spankbank. In this case he was pinned beneath her lanky form… and she seemed distressingly strong for a girl…

Her clenched fist blasted those thoughts from his head and rocked his brainpan against a stone, bringing sweet darkness.

#

Shai scrawled a short message on a page from her notebook and left it pinned to the corpse in the road for the others, before they carried on down the mountain, with Luna and Shai leading the way.

In a clearing, a wagon stood, loaded with empty wine casks, tagged for return to a vintner in Port Fairlane. It was odd to return empty barrels outside the local area but not suspicious… Save that the lids of the barrels were fitted with hidden slats to allow air to pass through, and they were marked with a string of runes at top and bottom, burnt into the wood.

Shai and Becky took charge of the girls and Liam, when they trotted into the camp a few minutes later… She wasted no time in summoning her home in the back of the meadow for the traumatized survivors; beds, baths and clothes were all inside waiting.

Once the girls and Liam were in the bath, Kermal and Becky rode up the mountain to link up with the others.

#

Otto’s nervousness eased when he realized that the big smith and the tiny blonde trader were staying with him and Lindsey… That blonde was formidable enough by herself!

A forest where gigantic eight legged monsters can descend from the sky made him twitchy and easily spooked.

Less than ten minutes after the bulk of their escort charged off at a canter, an unfamiliar horse gasped and wheezed up the mountain road, unsaddled, with cut reins and blood splashed on her heaving flanks.

The big smith dismounted with surprising grace from his massive destrier and gently called the panicked animal to him. The creature slowed her stumbling dash and responded to the enormous man slowing and eventually snuffling at him.

“She’s near foundered and half crazed with fear…” He mumbled, with the animal following him placidly, even though her lungs still heaved for breath and her eyes were a bit wild.

He brushed and stroked her, whispering softly and plying her with sugar cubes and wedges of honeyed pear. He walked the beast, slowly cooling her down and bringing her back with some of Liam’s herbal medicines.

Nobody really knew what ‘Electrolytes’ were, not even Gary, despite the fact that he made up the name… Liam’s sticky fruit, sugar, salt and gelatine squares were going to be a big seller, once the cavalry found out about them. “Turkish DeLectrolyes… that’s gotta be the name.” He’d insisted, when Liam had shown them his first sugar dusted cubes of dense, sweet gel.

Moving slowly, they stopped to let her drink from a cold, fast flowing stream a few minutes later; when Becky and Kermal trotted back up, looking grim.

#

The wagon stood outside an incongruous hillfolk roundhouse, set back against the hillside. There was some activity in the yard, mostly horses being tended.

The remaining Adventurers and their clients trooped in and the kids immediately started working like a well honed team of veterans.

Ivy headed for the wagon, noticing some anomalies right away. “Sound muffling enchantment, a shitty one, but good enough for a few weeks.” Ivy grumbled. “These were professional slavers.”

The mare Tallum had collected on the road was in rough shape, He and Shai led her around behind the stables to the outdoor bath with Liam, Collette, Molly and Polly.

Horsie therapy was innovative and highly effective for both species, fostering mellow feelings and relaxed vibes, while everyone munched on his sticky orange cubes.

Once their clients were situated, Becky hugged Shai and stumbled to her room for a nap. “I’ll let ducky and Thirp know everybody’s safe… They’ll pass the word.” She muttered before the door closed.

“Fie, Becky napping alone… tis odd.” Shai stood to follow her, but Luna took her hand.

“Wait. Leave her be. She killed a man today, like it or not. She acted decisively and correctly, but a man died.” The one eyed woman said softly. “That he turns out to have been utter filth is a fine thing, but let her work her way through this for a while.”

The giantess complained a little… She grumbled and went off to the bath to mother the girls and Liam… They needed a good dose of that right now.

#

Amy lay down for her nap and bounced right back up, before Gary had a chance to make it all the way down stairs. She scooted down the hall, slid a tight turn on the banister rail and took both flights of steps three at a time, in a whirl of colorful Pajamas. She opened her mouth and unloaded on the gathered people in the common room.

“Liam, Colette, Molly and Polly are all safe… Thirp tol’ me so… but she wouldn’t say any more. Just that they’re all safe and healthy.” She pulled a sour face. “I hate not knowing stuff!”

Gary pulled her into a big hug and squeeze, then turned her loose with a swat to her bottom. “Ok honey, back to naptime… use your meditation techniques to get there.”

She only sulked a little before going up to bed for a retucking. Soon she was with her brothers, passed out and snoring softly.

Once she was out, Gary turned to Tawny. “Wand me unconscious please… I’ll never get to sleep like this.” He grumbled nervously.

“You made Amy put herself to sleep!” Tawny scolded him gently, her relief showing clearly in her face. Her need to know outweighed busting her friend's chops, so she tickled him into dreamland with the point of her wand. Leaving him slumped on the corner of the bed in a loose, undignified heap was a good compromise.

“Serves you right.” She mumbled with satisfaction.”

#

“They have two prisoners and a bunch of stuff to haul back... They’re heading back in the morning and should be home before sundown tomorrow.” Gary murmured sleepily, when Tawny got tired of waiting and woke him. He was stiff and groggy, from lying in a pile on top of the covers, with his neck awkwardly kinked to the right. Wilf toddled over, climbed up on Gary’s shoulders with both feet and grabbed his head in both hands. He gave a quick tug and twist, releasing a horrid, popping, squelching sound into the room.

“Ahhhhhh. Thanks Wilf.” He moaned.

“I’ll give you details when little ears can’t hear.” He whispered to Tawny, not quite softly enough.

“I wanna know…” Amy mumbled sourly. “Keepin’ secrets is mean!”

“I promise, you don’t wanna know sweetie. Some bad people tried to do bad things… The bad stuff happened to them, everybody we like is ok.” He murmured softly to the three anxious tots gathered on the bed. “Let’s go make some noise in the garden to celebrate…”

#

It was a long night and most of a day coming back down into Wheatford and home. The wagon rumbled along slowly no matter how thoroughly Shai’s borrowed magic reinvigorated the animals drawing the massive dray. When they rumbled onto the valley floor, Rolf and his crew took the wagon and prisoners in hand, driving the cart directly to the temple of Order. The two surviving slavers and the bodies were all neatly stowed in their own handy storage barrels. Liam and the girls tried really hard to pretend they didn’t enjoy watching them get packed in their barrels, knowing full well what they had to look forward to.

While the prisoners and evidence rolled away up the main road, the team of youngsters made their way directly home, into a subdued and peaceful celebration. Polly and Molly wound up attached to Otho and Naiomi like lampreys, clinging to the oldsters constantly.

Colette and Issac hit the bath with Liam and Tawny for constructive and calm discussion of their feelings and emotions…

Then departed the bath in pairs for a much more intimate and far more effective method of working through feelings, in private.

#

Trade ship Hermione’s Smile was docked in port Ellis awaiting her cargo, bobbing peacefully… The booted feet of a troop of War cultists, led by a knight of Order on the dock woke the crew rapidly, but not nearly fast enough for them to escape. The warriors swept the boat from bow to stern, before sealing it with writs from the duke’s own hand. One warrior remained on guard, as the crew of five was led away in shackles, by a grim faced troop of angry armed people.

#

“You guys use pigeons to carry messages… Nice!” Gary enthused happily. “How many did they catch in Port Ellis?”

“Five, a vessel was seized and is being searched for further evidence.” Rolf grumbled. “We should get regular updates through the cult of Order.”

“I never learned anything from the last bunch… They were hardcore cultists with few scruples. Working with their ghosts kinda brought out the worst in me.” He shuddered in the warm sunny garden.

The boys were practicing with ‘Uncle Cab’, polishing their vocal chops while Amy worked on her breathing exercises alone, meditating quietly under a rose arbor.

“Slavers Rolf, again.” He grumbled angrily. “We are being targeted and that’s pissing me off.” He bit off each word crisply, while trying to hide the boiling fury he was radiating.

“We were already planning a summer campaign against Port Burndown… Those plans were shelved, when genital demons and imperial envoys began popping up.” Rolf complained. “We should have done it two years ago when activity began ticking up.”

“Port Burndown? Where’s that?” He demanded.

“It’s less a where in particular, than a general morass of mangrove swamps and disease infested canals. They trade in slaves, drugs, anything illegal, disreputable and profitable.”

“So there’s a town of slavers and pirates… just doing it in the open?” He demanded.

“That’s where it gets its name. A pier and some huts will crop up in some lagoon among the trees… soon there’s a trader, then boom! A town appears. All made of bamboo and reeds, when it grows into a nice foaming pustule on the Shallow Sea’s south side, one duchy or another will lance that boil and… burn it down.” Rolf shook his head in disgust. “The filth scatters into endless miles of trackless swampland in canoes and tiny boats… just to start over again in another backwater cove. Piracy and banditry can occur anywhere, but the slave trade lives in the bogs of Port Burndown.”

“And all the duchies don’t come together to scour them out, because enough wealthy people and nobles are involved in the trade to make that impossible.” Gary completed helpfully. Rolf’s expression said he really wanted to deny the scurrilous accusation… He really, really wanted to deny it.

“That’s no huge surprise.” Gary answered his silent stare. “Really, your council of nobs and clerics is still busting their brains trying to find a legal excuse for how they can sell my sweet ass for a tidy profit.” He glared at the young knight angrily and leaned closer, cause he really wanted to get loud.

“Did you think nobody else would want a taste of the sweet slavery action? You open the door to chattel bondage and every perv and dickhead is gonna rush through.”

“The orphan’s indenture is not slavery…” Rolf insisted, as his oaths to Order pointed out, that he didn’t really believe that anymore. His face twisted in discomfort as the lie crossed his lips. “Gods… I’ve got to stop doing that!”

“I hate that I won that argument Rolf…” He called to the young knight who was off to the temple to ask for a penance. “I really wanted it to not be true here.”

“Gary, my brother is struggling with these issues as best he can…” Tawny sighed, nervously gripping her tea cup with two white knuckled hands. “As we all are.”

“They weren’t after me, this time Tawny. They were looking for Liam.” He spoke calmly and softly to his distraught friend, with a hand on her knee. “This smells like politics and good old fashioned scheming.”

“Explain yourself!” She snapped. “They came looking for you and took him by mistake! Order agrees!”

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “Your council knows they can just make me vanish… It would be awkward and inconvenient, but I came from nowhere and nobody who really matters has anything much invested in me. I could disappear and few questions would be asked…”

Tawny opened her mouth to protest but he kept going on.

“I’m the orphandedest orphan that can be, completely unrooted. If I vanish, they can say I ran away… Liam’s local and known. Respected, connected and a noble… He’s dispossessed and landless, but that’s changing, isn’t it?”

Tawny’s terse nod and thin pressed lips said it all.

“They aren’t going to be able to indenture and sell Liam. He’s too valuable to them as an asset, plus the orphan made a count by the good grace of the gods and the council’s largesse is too good a story for them to pass up.” Gary murmured softly. “If they press the issue, they are going to run into his fully Contracted legal adulthood.”

“So why all this?” Tawny hissed, leaning close over the cookies.

“Cause not everybody in your noble country club is gonna want a new orphan count, sitting at the grownups table. Certainly not one with money, lands, a strong connection to the ducal family and a pet mad wizard.” He shook his head sadly again.

“If Liam the orphan tragically disappears, taken by slavers and never seen again, their problem is solved. Who steps in to claim his lands if their plan succeeds?”

“Helene Kinneman has a claim…” Tawny mumbled thoughtfully.

“Too obvious… Plus, her main ally, Miriam of Craft, is living in a garden shed surrounded by one of my toys. Without it she’s a gibbering, violent loon…” He grinned darkly at her and bit into a cookie savagely.

“A more violent, gibbering loon.”

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