Ch: 71 A Taste of Honey
‘No, no, no…’ Beast whispered across the garden. ‘Your soul has seen too much traffic. Adding a familiar, or my Contract would be highly disruptive. Joy would also throw a tantrum to shake the heavens if I plucked the berry she has her eye on.’ They sighed in whippoorwill and owlsong. ‘This I can do for you, until Joy has her will, I can only help a little. Let my child in please.’
One fat, black bumblebee slowly buzzed over the garden wall, drunkenly flying his way. It flittered and fumbled until it alighted on his bare forearm.
‘Sorry.’ Beast said quietly, as lightning struck his tender flesh.
The insect stabbed a tiny, hairlike stinger into Gary’s arm, sending paralytic venom blasting down his nerves. Using pure, unadulterated pain to shut him down. He watched in numb horror as the tiny creature pumped thin, watery black venom into his arm, turning itself translucent, then transparent. A moment later the bug crumbled into sugar crystals and blew away.
The musician stood there a while, before realizing that the pain had already fled, moments after it arrived. A slowly spreading sense of warm intoxication washed him away into normal sleep where he stood.
Gift, Familiar Stranger has been influenced by an external power. null/null.
Gift, Entrainment has been influenced by an external power. null/null
Waking up sore, itchy and tired never felt so good. Gary popped awake and slid out of bed with nary a rustle. He slipped downstairs and into the bath to let it all float away on the wind. The pool seemed strangely turbulent, but his groggy mind ignored that.
That was Beast’s gift, just a mellow sense of not worrying about tomorrow for a while. He admired the black honeycomb tattoo on his inner arm, its cells filled with rich, golden, amber honey. A single bee stood guard, its barbed stinger very near the pulsing vein of his inner elbow.
“Artistic and mysterious.” Tawny remarked from her place by the waterfall, sounding strangely displeased to the confused and befuddled man.
“Ohh, sorry, I’m super lost right now… in my brain. I think Beast got me high? Wait where am I?” The musician wondered.
“Gary, go for a run, twice around town before you try and talk to anyone, that’s an order.” Tawny snapped at the confused fool. “Stop!” She barked a moment later. “Clothes first, then run. Wait, we will shepherd you, poor creature!”
Tawny rode magnus bareback, as a sour-faced Liam ran Gary barefoot around the town, the damn interrupting musician was lost in a fugue. Whistling and strumming a strange, loping beat in minor chords, he began to softly sing.
When the world is running down…
You make the-best-of-what’s still around…
He continued to look thoughtful and remain blessedly quiet until the rest of the world got moving.
Shai and the kids came down at first bell, crabby Becky, bouncy Amy and steady Wilford all trooped down, washed up and dressed for a late winter day.
Becky had them working on their letters in the dining room, while Gary and Shai worked downstairs at their crafts. A few minutes before third bell, Shai called a pause.
“Foolish man, I hae a treat fer thee.” Shai announced, smiling radiantly. “Ere the last chime of third, we will hae a a caller, he do especially wish to treat wi thee over some matter of business…”
Becky took up the thread, since Shai was having trouble keeping it together.
“That creep Angbold is in town, so far, while we were away, the others have all been dodging him and winding him up for you. He has no suspicion that he met us on the road or that we had any connections to his mission.” Becky took a deep breath after that exhausting chatter.
He sat still as a stone for a moment, before he spoke.
“You guys really do love me…” He wept, pulling them close in a ferocious hug.
#
Precisely at the final chime of third bell Angbold marched out of Weyeth’s inn, past his now dusty coach and up to the Adventure compound. Again.
Three nights at that miserable inn, three days being rudely denied entry. ‘The guild master is away’ and ‘The guild master is consulting with the duke’ kept forestalling him. Once more he trudged up to the gate and demanded entry.
“The guild master is in the temple of Order, consulting with the duke. You may not enter.” The old man drew out that infuriating one eyed smile. Filthy orphan trash, grinning so smugly.
He spun on his heel, preparing to storm away manfully, making his displeasure known by the slap of his slippers on the pavement, when the clod spoke.
“Gary Ward has returned though, he is in residence… would you like me to ask if he will see you?”
A smiling lad slid up on a wheeled board of some kind and took a message away. He floated along so quickly the merchant thought there must be some trick.
With a kick, the wheeled board shot from beneath the lad’s feet and he caught it nimbly, darting out of sight as the gate closed in the merchant’s face.
The guard remained silent, smiling blandly, in the relaxed, dangerous pose of a veteran on guard. Calm, easy, but casually alert to everything around.
He began to whistle a sprightly tune, shortly before it became audible to the merchant, coming from behind the gate.
The music swelled from some skilled players hidden from view, Angbold found himself enjoying the beat. Sweet children’s voices came rising up in chorus as the gate opened to admit him.
Who can take a sunrise?
(Who can take a sunrise?)
Sprinkle it with dew
(Sprinkle it with dew)
Cover it with chocolate and a miracle or two
That got his attention, he shouted into the parade ground, as the music hushed for a moment. “Hello! I am master Merchant Angbold of the Benevolent Society of Patissiers and Chocolatiers of Port Clement! I seek Gary Ward, self styled executive of the Sweet Tooth guild!”
The music swelled again, never losing a beat; insistent and friendly like a kitten that smells fresh cream.
The Candy Man (the candy man)
Oh the Candy Man can (the candy man can)
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love
and makes the world taste good
(Makes the world taste good)
A tall dark haired, dark eyed young man strolled around the corner strumming a guitar. The smiling musician was dressed all in impeccable white, with fanciful ocean life embellished across his outfit.
His radiant smile and pure animal magnetism caught the pumping driving beat and made him a compelling force of nature.
Who can take a rainbow?
(Who can take a rainbow?)
Wrap it in a sigh?
(Wrap it in a sigh?)
Soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie?
The Candy Man (the candy man)
Oh the Candy Man can (the candy man can)
The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
and makes the world taste good
(Makes the world taste good)
“I love that one… now master Angbold, join me inside for tea and a snack with the officers of the Sweet Tooth guild…”
The music wound down and the smiling man waved happily and led him to a colorful glass fronted shop. The charming store displayed all manner of eclectic wares, from musical instruments to cutlery and weapons, armor and of all things, chocolate.
In the shop, the layout was an inn’s common room… with familiar slippers and an immaculate floor. The red haired barbarian woman smiled down at him while he recognized the dolt from the roadside inn.
“You… all of you.. It was a trick from the beginning! Guards! I am beset! Murder! Guards!”
#
The gathered orphans watched him scream bloody murder for a while, sipping their cocoa and chatting among themselves. Otho reclined with a very small child under each arm and murmured soothingly. “...some kind of mental affliction, Tawny can help, I’m sure.”
#
“We better cancel the rest of the musical numbers, he seems really on edge…” The skinny one with the braids was saying when he came up for air.
Two tiny children dressed as fanciful pirates peered at him in disappointment. “Wilf wan’ed to do fanan’nastic voyage again.” She complained sleepily. “He can ‘hannel it!”
“I promise we will play ‘fanan’nastic’ voyage soon, love. Nap time.” The man in white said, without the magic of his music, simply a large, unremarkable man in fanciful clothes.
“If you are recovered from, whatever that was, we can get on with the meeting you requested with the board.” He sat the shaken merchant down gently at a table and smiled at the gathered crowd of children and young people.
All wore green caps with a rampant chocolate horse, her fetlocks, tail and mane picked out in gleaming silver. Most bore the badge of an autumn leaf on their clothes, while others had a bronze pin of the masks of comedy and tragedy.
That one he knew, the paired masks of the goddess Joy, others as well. The antlered wolf of Beast, the Spear and shield of War, Order’s scales… these children were openly indicating their contracts for all to see.
“Despicable! What nest of degeneracy has duke Belen let fester in this backwater? I shall address this with my guild and the council of trades!”
“Oh, you noticed? Master merchant indeed, we have no taboos here, we speak about contracts and gifts openly. We are family here, the only family we have. The god of Secrets is dead. Orphans don’t get to decide their contracts, whether they get them, or with whom, why should we keep your dirty secrets for you?”
He leaned in close, the chocolate on his breath ruffling the merchant’s eyebrows. “That taboo serves to make the comfortable feel more easy with what they have been doing… I am here to make you all very uncomfortable.”
“You claim Secret is dead, yet you wear his totem.” He sneered at the silver crescent moon bearing a grinning skull face inside its curve, that was a nice piece of craft.
“True, as the first, last and only cultist of Secret I do wear his ensign. Enough about me, you wanted to speak to the board of directors.” He waved his hand to encompass the room of bustling, snacking children and young teens.
“We the older teens are the executive committee, sworn to execute our charter. They are the board of directors, in control of the charter. We can’t change it, only they can.” He smiled benignly. “What did you wish to meet with us over? Some matter of chocolate?”
“Yes, some matter of chocolate. He sneered at the young idiot. “We have received reports of an upstart confectionery guild, selling inferior products under our aegis. I have come with the full authority of the trade guild association to shut you down and confiscate any counterfeit products.”
“The Sweet Tooth guild has its own brand, recipes and methods, they are not yours. Request denied.” Ivy snapped from nearby.
“That’s Ivy, director of trade relations, she’s a firebrand!” The slender dark girl said quietly. “I’m Becky, information security officer and high priestess of our cult of Knowledge.” She whispered helpfully.
The fool was still prattling on.
“... so long story short, we are going to crush you in quality and price. If you can keep up you are welcome to compete, or you can sell out to us and fold your operations.”
Angbold caught up at the end and flushed bright red in fury. “Insolence! Our guild has been in continuous operation for six hundred years! You think to topple us with what? A few samples of second rate imitation chocolate and a line of foolishness!”
“No, we will crush you with our craft. I only brought the basics of chocolaterie with me, my brothers and sisters did the rest, now you can taste their work.” A tiny child slid a tray in front of him, bearing an assortment of colorful and interesting items.
“First drink, it’s better hot.” He raised his own mug with a happy sigh. “Marshmallow team, you nailed it! Great work!” He shouted to the back of the room.
#
Angbold tottered out an hour later, sleepy, exhausted, buzzed and feeling like he had been dragged behind a wagon for a mile. Runningtree fell into step with him as he walked to the gate of the compound.
“This is an unusual Adventure guild. You will find them intractable, we will be operating in the area for a few seasons for our own purposes, consider that before you make any plans.” She stopped at the gate, watching him leave, before nodding and returning inside singing softly to herself.
The candy man can…
#
Almost all of the Sparrowhawks’ members were from a loose network of fringe tribes to the east, coppery skin and straight dark hair predominated, with wide set dark eyes and aquiline noses.
Larksong was a slim, agile and quick woman of action in the field, dressed in dusky browns and mottled green. Once in town she changed for loose trousers and a long flowing top in all the vibrant colors of a head trauma rainbow.
She danced and skipped through the streets staring at the new and exciting town in wonder. She chatted and charmed her way through most of the population of the gate market on a cold breezy morning. Rootedbear caught up to her, dressed in local workman’s clothes while she was waiting for a bowl of spicy groundworm over rice.
He had a groundworm meat pie in one hand and a dried apple pie in the other.
“Food’s good. Nice place.” He rumbled happily, chomping on each massive pastry in turn.
“Gods and spirits above this place is awash in groundworm. It’s everywhere, I feel like I might become one of the furry bastards.” They sat on a bench in the market square, watching Angbold yell at the clerk in the trade association office. He got agitated enough that a knight of Order strolled over from the tax office next door.
The blonde giant in silver mail barely fit through the door. He filled the small building to capacity, entertaining the two warriors snacking on the bench, immensely. Angbold was pressed back up against the window, gesticulating and fussing while the knight glared down in scarred and intimidating silence.
Listening closely, they could hear the constant barrage of complaints.
“...patent infringement, trade mark forgery, counterfeit goods, improper licencing…”
#
The man kept on going, fussing and fretting over a few orphans, hustling for coin.
“Master Angbold, your guild has no dealings in the duchy of Wheatford… How can they infringe on you?”
Instead of answering, he shifted to another complaint. “Only my guild deals in chocolate confections… we have held this trade for six centuries! Our time honored secrets have been stolen!”’
“When and how did they steal this secret from you? Their product is very different from yours.” The scarred blonde giant asked, while unwrapping a brightly colored twist of waxed paper. He popped the truffle in his mouth with relish. “Delightful!”
“That was evidence! Proof they have stolen our methods and formula!” Angbold shrilled. “Where did you get that?” The slim merchant trembled with agitation and fury, making his finery rustle.
“I bought it at the last festival. I have a basket of them.” He smiled with brown stained teeth. “I keep them in the office because my wife can’t leave them alone.”
The knight dutifully took down the man’s complaints and printed the accused’s name on them with his block stamp.
“That kid really knows how to make a thoughtful gift…” He murmured while filling out his paperwork.
#
“He really thought we would just close up and hand over everything on his say so…” Gary grumbled, back down in the workshop. “This weekend is the festival of Beast, two weeks later, Spring festival, Khan and Luna’s wedding, this Angbold doof. Two weeks after that, the feast of Water…” Gary murmured, half to himself. “Busy times and bad weather coming.”
Snow was already drifting in the garden, while the town settled under a thick blanket of white as the sun went down.
“We dinnae hae true festivities fer Beast in truth, Spring festival do lively up the town and then does come Water’s rites.” Shai said over late night tea, as the snow fell. “Though Beast’s cult does meet that night... Mayhap Ivy knows. Ye should go, his mark be on thee.” She smiled tranquilly.
“I do like this gift of Beast’s, ye have been a naked edge, dreadful keen fer some days. I would nae see thee ‘cut what ye would protect’, as ye did say yerself.”
She nestled in the crook of his arm, gazing at his new marking. “Beast hae scribbled on mine property, tis artful at least. Ye may keep it. Will ye go tae Beast’s rite?”
“Maybe… I’ll think on it. What’s your take on these new Adventurers? I like ’em.” The Adventurers in question were lounging in the public bath. They seemed to have decided that the dormitory showers were unacceptable. A sound judgment in Gary’s mind.
“They be from the fringe, folk there do be less… urbane. Dinnae mistake them fer uncivilized as these townsmen do. Their kin hae their own ways, as mine do.” She said grimly. “Luna be frae another such tribe, though she dinnae speak of it much.”
Shai curled up closer and sipped her tea. “I do think they hae some reason tae be in town, though we hae a busy winter, tis very odd. Wheatford be largely safe, the fringe an its creatures dinnae intrude here, usually”.
“Lilith, two giant worms, a washed out causeway, our human buddies in Order’s holding cells right now, your bucket of snot and my worm in a can. Someone is up to something, or maybe…”
A quiet cough nearby distracted them from their quiet discussion.
“Pardon brother and sister, I have been asked to request a meeting with our patron’s agent. She wishes for a discreet talk, if you will.” Runningtree shifted awkwardly in her green robe.
“Streeka, the seer is a wise and honored shaman of a local clan, her words are valued by many. Though her appearance may startle you…” She seemed even less comfortable, if that was possible. The veteran warrior shifted from one foot to the other as though she stood on hot pavement.
“Not all people wear human skin, brother and sister… There are tribes of men who wear the features of beasts, but have the light of reason in their souls…” She looked almost pitifully distressed, knotting her long shining braids in her fingers compulsively.
“I would ask that you have an open mind, hear her out despite her looks…” The imploring and hopeful, deeply distrustful look on her coppery face was too much.
The pair burst out giggling, Gary slipped from his garden bench and landed on his backside, still laughing. “We are so sorry…” He giggled.
“Aye, we regret this lapse in decorum mistress Runningtree.” Shai sniggerd behind her hands. “Tis unseemly.”
She helped her fool up off the lawn, while calling out into the shrubbery. “Plumeria, kindly meet our new friend!” With a chuckle and a wink she spent a good bit of time dusting her man’s butt off, to the point it became awkward for the veteran.
A small, slim woman stepped from the shadowy garden and smiled, her robes of gold and plum purple, immaculate as always. “Oh, a new human… but not the druid I have yet to meet. Are you hiding her from me boy?” She strolled around the bemused warrior woman, eyeing her critically. “No, not a druid, but touched by the spirits of the wild… hardly polluted with Iron at all.”
“And what are you little spirit? Some lost pixie, trapped in a human town? We will help you back into the forest if you wish, little one…” She squatted down to get on eye level with the tiny woman. “Don’t be frighte…” With a small yelp she lept back reaching for weapons that were hanging on a rack by the bath, too far away.
In her mantis form she spread her wings, fluttering forward to examine the startled human. “I am the plumgrove, Plumeria, dryad of the summer court, fear not, we seldom murder… humans.” Her jewel colored insect head turned and peered at the woman slowly backing away on all fours. “Come now, I smell something of Kai of the waters on you, that silly turtle is much scarier than me.”
“Ginger Dreadnaught doesn’t discriminate, we welcome all sentients into our troupe.” The dryad said gently. “Even something as awful as the boy over there.”
“Hey!” He grumbled, while Shai consoled him by dusting off his tush some more. “I am a dirty boy…” He cooed softly.
“Dear gods and spirits, what have we fallen in with?” She asked herself as the Insect helped her up from the lawn.
#
“I’d heard there was a clan of intelligent otters around… how like regular otters are they?” He wiggled with excitement at the thought. “No, don’t tell me, oh, I can’t wait!”
“She will meet with you by the waterside downstream of the bridge, past the thicket, out of sight of the house there.” She frowned slightly. “Streeka was wary of that house, steer clear of whomever lives there, be discreet.”
“The house by the bridge? The round one with the slate roof? They are a bunch of weirdos…” The musician said, while playing a guitar softly. “We will watch out for those guys. Right Shai?”
“Dinnae tease boy, That be my house, we kin meet her there in comfort and privacy. Uncouth lout.” She shot that last bit at Gary with a saucy wink.
“What is that, dead druid boy?” Plumeria asked, stalking towards the snuggling pair with her wings out and vibrating furiously. “Something has been added to you, something sweet.” She said, her voice, insectile and buzzing in pleasure. “Beast has given you a taste of honey… beware, sometimes just a taste is worse than none at all.”
“I know that song…” He said wistfully.