Ch: 66 Squad Goals
“If it helps, you are not the first dryad to ride in our cart, nor the first to try and ‘cleanse’ me.” Gary implored in the garden. “Just tell us your name. We all told you ours…”
“Why is it still talking, I have no words for the dead, nor name to give the companions of the dead.” The tiny woman was wearing a warm woolen coat, sewn for her by Gary, but even that gift failed to soften her stoney resolve.
She sat snug in Wilford’s pocket, surveying everyone but Becky, Amy and her mount with deep suspicion.
Exhausted and irritated, Gary turned back to the adult table.
“I made her body out of some old maple firewood I had lying around, she can’t really connect with it like Sol and Maria did. That means the magic of Becky’s ritual didn’t really take.” Gary sighed.
“Until we get her planted in actual soil and let her set down roots she is going to be aggressive and deeply disturbed. Getting stapled to her own tree in an outhouse didn’t do much for her attitude either I suppose.”
“It speaks of me as though I have no ears to hear. Wilford, bite that creature someplace tender if you please!” She shrilled, pointing an accusing finger at him, without actually looking his way.
“Biting is bad and dirty.” Wilford said with absolute authority. “Gary, be nice.” He tucked a napkin in his pocket for her and she curled up and went to sleep without a care, satisfied that her foe was properly chastened.
“Yes, thank you Wilford, I will remember to be nice.” Gary said with a smile. “She is hurt and angry. I should try harder.” He ruffled the sober lad’s hair and sent him off play with his older sisters.
Luna slipped in through the kitchen window with her usual liquid grace. “We have guests coming, their scouts caught up to us almost half an hour ago, they move fast and are very skilled.”
“Did they see us set up?” Ivy asked from the kitchen.
“No chance, I shadowed them while they shadowed us. They saw less than nothing, only heard the music.” Luna seemed certain.
“Excellent, let’s keep it tight, no strangers in the private bath, no weirdness.” Gary announced boldly, while eyeing his companions.
“Gary says no weirdness guys…” Tallum said quietly. Drawing a cushion from beneath his rump.
“He has been getting away with a lot lately.” Ivy agreed, pulling a pillow from the sofa and swinging it dangerously. “How long till they arrive?” She asked, her voice cold and hard as trail biscuits.
“Ten minutes, maybe twenty.” Luna said, watching the proceedings with interest. Gary was chatting with Dannyl about the finer points of something called ‘boogie woogie’, as the others continued to arm themselves with various plush and stuffed items.
“The drum solo on the turnaround keeps the strings in time while…” He looked around, panic on his face, surrounded by hard eyed warriors armed with fluffy weapons of humiliation. “The pillow king commands from his throne…” He said in desperation. “I am the count of cushions… lord of lounges! respect my will, peons! MmmmMPH!”
Tawny shoved a wad of golden brocade in his mouth and began whomping him with a rolled up fluffy throw. Liam pummeled him with a plush Llama that had certainly not been in the room a moment before. Khan charged the boy with a full sized bed pillow, knocking him back into a conveniently placed sofa.
Becky shoved an enormous plush bear into Vera’s hands and pushed the War cleric and knight into the fray. With silent fury she laid about her, striking all comers with her plush toy.
Battering the boy as much as his companions did, she worked overtime to spread the fluffy damage far and wide.
When the common room door slid open, Runningtree found the group of youngsters scattered around the room in disarray, with Vera Anglin standing triumphant in the center of the room.
Clad in a green silk robe and wielding a stuffed toy like a warhammer, she battled against a massive ginger mountain armed with a tasseled cushion shield and a pillowclub.
She nodded to the newcomer and continued battering the enormous man to the floor with merciless blows of her plush toy.
Two tiny children, a red haired giantess and a slim teenage girl sat on stools at the bar and enjoyed the show. By the fireplace, a massive pile of pillows, cushions and plushies stirred, as a tall, brown haired man ambled from beneath the pile and began cleaning up the mess.
Vera stood in confused pleasure, as the small group tidied up with supernatural speed and teamwork. The two tiny children silently and somberly led her to a fine chair composed entirely of cleverly sewn together cushions and pillows of every kind.
The slim child with the elaborate braid reverently handed over a gilt wooden scepter, topped with a shiny gold cushion, tiny red tassles dangled from its four corners.
“All hail the victor, Vera, pillow queen for the day.” Becky shouted into the room, startling the richly robed merchant at the door.
With a snort of displeasure, master Angbold, local head of the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers for Port Clement, entered the common room.
“Innkeeper, find me accommodations, and arrange something suitable for my escort. I am road weary and your common room is too… common for my tastes. The coachman will sleep in the carriage.” He said, with lightly veiled disdain.
The tall dullard bowed humbly and led the merchant to an inadequate room, with cracked and chipped furniture and a drafty window. The fireplace smoked abysmally and a cold breeze snuck in through the ill fitting door.
“Nae Gary, we bring the master merchant to a chamber fitting his station.” The innkeeper scolded her idiot gently.
“Tis blue triangle, last room at the back, I shall guide thee.”
The barbarian hill woman led him into a very fine room. White plaster walls, a warm fluffy bed, even an iron stove and a small pail of charcoal.
“Excellent! I trust you will discipline that dolt thoroughly.” The merchant said with satisfaction. “I travel incognito good innkeeper, on a secret mission for my guild.” He whispered conspiratorially.
“Reports indicate a band of miscreants is attempting to establish a confectionery in Wheatford without the approval of the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers, among whom I rank highly.” He passed Shai a small waxed paper packet, it gave off a familiar aroma.
“A gratuity, for any information you might have on this matter, and for maintaining the secret of my mission, trade sister. It’s chocolate, of the finest.” He whispered sensually, running his eyes up and down her long, athletic frame.
“Visit me at any time tonight, if you have anything to… share.” He said with a wink slippery enough to grease a wagon wheel.
#
Becky was in the common room, feeding monster meat to anyone that looked hungry, or sat still too long. “Eat up brothers and sisters, grilled worm and lobster, Gary calls it surf and turf for some reason. Don’t sleep on the fried wormnuggets and popcorn abyssal shrimp.”
Larksong complained loudly. “I ordered a salad, this is just monster meat six ways in a bowl of spinach.”
“That’s monster meat seven ways, soy and honey glazed, grilled moray eel is on the bottom. What kind of place do you think we’re running here?”
Becky was merciless. The Sparrowhawks were barely mobile when Shai led them into the garden bath. They staggered into the steaming pool with obvious relief.
“Gods, If I eat any more I will be unable to move tomorrow.”
Rootedbear was a big man, second in command and their heavy combatant, even he was groaning under the meaty weight he had been buried under.
He and Tallum had eyed each other in the common room, each sizing the other up for a friendly rivalry.
They settled on an eating competition at Becky’s insistence. It was a losing strategy for both combatants, they huddled together in a far corner of the pool groaning and farting in misery.
Shai came prancing in from the kitchen in glee, while Gary sulked behind her. Both bore trays of mugs while Amy and Wilford followed after with platters of their own.
“Master Angbold will nae disturb ye, we shall take care of his needs as long as ye guest wi us. Be easy, guild brothers and sisters. Ye too, coachman Gannet, the guild of draymen and teamsters is welcome in this home. We hae room for thee as well, unless ye would rather sleep in yer carriage…”
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The children and man passed mugs and trays around the group. They distributed some dark brown cake, moist and sticky sweet, with mugs bearing the scent of chocolate from their trays, before receiving hugs and kisses from their parents and slipping away upstairs with Becky for bedtime.
“As guild Adventurers, tis nae meet that ye should speak of yer employer in any wise… tis nae rule against overhearing though.” Shai said enigmatically to the pool at large.
“Master Angbold, does seek after some new confectionery guild, meaning to end their fun and games…” She sipped and nodded approvingly at Gary. “He does think that in Wheatford some rascals hae filched the secret of chocolate.”
A soft murmur swept through the mingled groups, followed by exclamations of pleasure and sighs of bliss as they tasted their treats.
“None could possibly hae stolen this art frae the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers. Such has not been managed in all the long years.” She said innocently, as dark, rich crumbs stained her lips.
“He did generously bribe me wi an ounce of his guild’s finest chocolate fer keeping his mission secret…” She held the small packet up. “I hae nae need fer such. Would any wish it?”
Rootedbear pulled his nose from his mug and nodded. “I have never had chocolate before this, I like it!” The giant strolled through the swirling hot water to claim his prize from a smiling and happy Shai.
He unwrapped the pale brown block and shoved it in his mouth with a smile that faded quickly. His face went slightly gray as he bowed and mumbled; “Thank you Journeyman Shai.” around the bitter, gritty, fatty mess clogging his mouth.
He blushed bright red as all the Bathers and most of the women of his own group laughed and giggled.
“Sorry pal, guild chocolate suuucks. Those guys are total rubes…” Gary chuckled and refilled the big man’s mug of cocoa from a clay pitcher he pulled from nowhere.
“Have another brownie, this one is special…” The madman whispered, pressing a small brown cake on him. It looked much like the others, save for a faint resinous, herbal scent that was very pleasant.
“You bought the ticket, now enjoy the ride.” Gary said as though from very far away.
The befuddled big man watched his teammates snack on the musician’s cakes and drift off into glassy eyed giggles. His own companions were soon as bleary eyed and goofy as he was.
“It’s the pool, makes it hit faster. Usually it takes a little under an hour for edibles to melt the ‘ole brainhead into goo… what was I saying?” The musician was playing a strange guitar on the curb of the pool, swaying in groggy pleasure along with his own music. He fixed his bleary eyes on Vera and began to sing a simple refrain over and over again.
Say something!
Say something!
The road of life is rocky and you may stumble too
So while you point your fingers, someone else is judging you
Could you be, could you be, could you be loved?
Could you be, could you be loved?
Could you be loved, yeah yeah
Say something!
“Gary, leave Vera alone, War will not allow her to speak in your presence.” Liam scolded from nearby.
“It’s still rude to stay in my home and refuse to speak to me. At least our small guest is honest about her feelings.” Vera met his eyes silently, then made a rude gesture that needed no translation.
“See? That’s progress!” The madman cheerfully switched the target of his music to his woman, playing something percussive and bass heavy.
“How about our other guest, the rich one, how did you get his secret mission out of him double-O Shai? Did you seduce him?” He asked, while playing variations on the Bond theme.
“Nae, he did try an seduce me wi his gritty chocolate and oily words. He does sit up even now waiting my knock on his door, so sure was he in his craft.” Shai’s giggle did little to dispel the dark look on her man’s face.
“Nae Gary, he is simply foul. Nae vile enough tae need a beating. An one is needed, it shall be sweet Shai battering him about. If I need thee tae do mine work I shall call for thee.”
“We are contracted to protect our client, brother. Let us not complicate things.” Runningtree puffed on one of the pipes circulating in the bath and handed it on. “I sense you have the upper hand in this matter in any case. Rest assured that our confidence extends both ways, we are not spies. Nor would we hire to carry news or reports. Our client has earned little goodwill on this journey and I shall say no more.” She looked about the pool hungrily. “Any more of those cakes? The mundane kind please.”
#
Master Angbold paid little mind to the other group as he awaited his carriage. He sat up most of the night anticipating a bit of slap and tickle with that barbarian barmaid, now irritation and affront at the rejection made him less charming than usual.
That was a particular favorite fantasy too, straight from one of his favorite books, ‘The Lusty Argonian Maid’. Of course in that one, it was some kind of lizard woman, but the principle remained the same.
“I should have tried for the skinny one…” He grumbled quietly into his tea.
“The skinny one has excellent hearing… and a sword.” Becky sang from uncomfortably nearby. “What would you like to try for?” She asked sweetly, while not fingering her sword hilt.
“Becky, our guild brothers and sisters are sworn to escort this man…” Luna said happily from the doorway, casting a chill over the merchant.
Bannock strolled past with a child on each shoulder and smiled at Becky and Luna. “Ahh ladies, let us prepare to depart, the road awaits. I would see your town, I hear only sweet things of fair Wheatford!”
They bustled out the door with the others leaving only the barmaid and the dullard in the place with Angbold.
“Your Inn’s accommodations leave much to be desired. I shall report my disappointing night to the guild of holsters and innkeepers. I should expect your standing to be revised in the annual travel guide.” He said smugly, dropping a small pouch on the bar.
“Perhaps if I pass this way again you can rectify this error, or send someone who can…” He said, snapping his fingers imperiously.
The barmaid and her idiot glared at master Angbold insolently. “Ok, we’re done here.” The dullard said as the pair walked out the door, tossing the pouch of coins up to the coachman.
“You guys should be in Wheatford in two days if the weather holds, sorry we have to scoot on, your boss is just too much to deal with for another night.”
“Look us up at the guild compound, you will be welcome… you too teamster Gannet.” Liam shouted as they rode off.
Master Angbold was furiously searching the empty inn, looking for the actual proprietor, to press his complaints, when the structure began to dissolve around him. It floated away in misty ribbons of nothing as the frantic man struggled to find the door in a gray mist.
After a short moment of blind terror he dropped a scant few inches into loose, muddy soil, ruining his fine gold suede shoes. His shout of rage echoed back, in musical chimes from the departing band and that barbarian woman’s voice singing out clear.
I know a guy who's tough but sweet.
He's so fine, he can't be beat.
He's got everything that I desire,
sets the summer sun on fire
I want candy, I want candy!
Go to see him when the sun goes down,
ain't no finer boy in town.
You're my guy, just what the doctor ordered,
so sweet, you make my mouth water
I want candy, I want candy!
The music lingered, ringing up the mountain almost as though some arcane working were projecting it at terrible volume in their direction.
“Infuriating whelps.” He grumbled as the carriage hit another stone and shuddered. “Every rock or hole you hit makes your bonus smaller, man!” He shouted, hammering on the roof of the carriage with his walking stick.
“I wonder how he thinks to return home with no one to drive his carriage.” Gannet murmured to Larksong as he tossed the plump sack of coins on his palm. “Joony and Jenny are my familiars… shall he pull it himself?” He grinned wide and happy. “I have business in Flintspire town with an old friend, he offers me a wagon to haul for some new guild… the SweetTooth guild of fair Wheatford… I fear they may be able to lure me away from Master Angbold, despite his sunny nature.”
“Too bad.” She said with a smile that curled the teamster lad’s toes. “Runningtree was considering hiring a teamster for the summer season. We specialize in high value magical and monster components…”
“Fancy that, if I hire on, I will be free from late spring to mid autumn. According to master Yost, my employers are also active Adventurers. They claim to have their own ‘support monkey’...”
“We don’t use that term, your title would be cargo master… or perhaps, comfort commando?” She purred, making him sway in his seat.
“Pitch woo on your own time, degenerates!” Rootedbear rumbled at his sister and her beau, with a grin on his broad cinnamon face.
#
As they rolled up the winter brown valley, past lingering clumps of snow, Gary was chattering like a magpie. Actual magpies were singing merrily along with his guitar, perched in the branches of their as yet unnamed passenger.
“So, we build the workshop, storefront and baths on the compound, nobody needs to know about the bedrooms upstairs. Then your house and the dock here on the riverfront, we sleep here or there, but life and business goes on.” He grinned at her and laughed. “That way we have a foothold in the craft quarter, slowly we will break Theo’s heart and make him weep.”
“Gary, be nice. I don’t like you when you’re mean.” Amy threw cold water on his happy scheming dance.
“If Theo leaves me alone I won’t bother him, ok? But he still can’t come over. Nobody spits on my floor.”
They trooped in the city gate as fifth bell began to sound. Liam and the rest headed for the compound, while Gary and Shai dropped by Harlan’s with Tallum.
“A ground lease, by the riverside, Aye that would serve under law, an ye dwell there summat of the time. Mikkel holds land on the far side, he does like the clay there. Tis baronet Dane Kinneman an lady Helene own the plots on this side, upriver an down fer a quarter mile.”
“The far side of the river then, if Mikkel agrees, what is the legal outlook? Can Helene and Theo hassle us?” Gary ground his teeth in frustration.
“An they wish tae ‘hassle’ ye they must needs come up wi a new plan. Tis the garden society an woodcutter’s guild control that side, neither has issue wi thee.”
Shai stared in wonder at her gadfly, as he smiled and chuckled Harlan into his orbit. “I’m gonna run off to set up housekeeping on the compound, be right back with Mikkel’s answer.” He scampered off, running like a startled deer through the early evening.
“Craft does want that boy’s arts desperately, but would wait fer his due time. Theo does see only his own ambitions realized sooner, at the lad’s cost. ‘Twil end in tears an Theo wins out. I hae seen enough o those in yer eyes lass.” The big man hugged his only daughter and niece close.
“An it needs be, I will call Craftmoot and challenge Theo’s arts wi mine own.” He turned her about by the shoulders and pushed her to the door.
“Run, tell that boy tae bring mine grandchildren… Tallum will visit wi the old folk while ye go.”
#
All the residents of Harlan’s forge gathered with Mikkel and Hannah to watch the kids summon Shai’s new gift. They danced through a simple country reel, just a humble family celebration by the side of the river in the evening's last light.
It took a solid five heartbeats for them to notice when the house finally appeared, shimmering out of the gloom with little fanfare. The giant, red haired family tumbled through the door and scattered around the house, poking into and exploring everything.
“It’s fantastical, you carry it wherever you go? Now I feel a fool for letting my gifts stagnate so.” Amelia huffed. “Harlan we get back in shape this springtime.”
She tapped a toe on the smooth flagstone floor in irritation. “Next time you need to run down Shai’s boy, I want you to have a chance of catching him.”
“Amelia! I be Craft priest and a master smith whae need hae I fer chasing fools, Tallum will be legs enough fer the job.” He protested half heartedly, grinning at a battle already lost.
“I just wonder why all your fitness goals revolve around chasing and beating me… kinda feels like a personal attack.” Gary mumbled blandly, while sneaking saucy looks at the smith’s daughter’s ankles.