Horlga shuffled quickly but quietly to the door of the study and opened the door as softly as she could. Inside, the Jarl of Klorhulg Hafgrimmr was sorting through papers from the Vendel league. As usual, their demand for silver to mint the League's guilders was growing. And the mines could not keep up with the demand. So the League brought in the thralls, who worked till their debt was paid. Then the thralls fell behind the demand, and the League brought in slaves. Not officially, but the citizens of Klorhulg who were willing to mine were paid to stay home. And no one comes to town to buy supplies except those who buy for the League. Thralls still need to buy things for themselves. The people currently working the mine are owned. And Gylffi cannot voice his concerns, much less outrage lest the League arrange to have him replaced. They had him trapped and he could do nothing about it officially.
Horlga coughed lightly and Gylffi looked up, "you have visitors, my lord."
"I was not aware of any appointments today." He told the woman. She was not young anymore but still was hardly what you would call difficult to look at, she was paid enough to dress well but not extravagantly, and kept herself well groomed. Not that it mattered as Gylffi didn't keep her around for her looks, she was on his staff because Horlga had a mind for numbers. She could glance at Gylffi's documents while bringing him his lunch and see mistakes without trying. She could also hide payments to groups helping Gylffi undermine the League's slave mine in a way they would never be found.
"This is not an appointment, my lord," she said with a curtsy, closing the thick wooden door behind her, "there is a pair of Vaticine priests here to see you." She moved over close to the Jarl to talk in a more hushed tone, "by the looks of the lady, I'd say they were inquisitors."
Gylffi's first thought was trying to remember if he forgot to attend church last week. But Father Tyrson was an objectionist, as well as being prone to swearing a few oaths to the Allfather when surprised or awed. No, the man had his own ideas on how the two faiths may be more connected than most people thought, so he would hardly sick the inquisition on anyone. "What do they want?"
"They would only tell me they had to speak to you on a matter of the most urgent nature," Horlga whispered grimly.
Gylffi nodded, "show them in."
The Priest looked about Gylffi's study, for the Jarl to the largest town in the north he expected more ostentation, but the room was a model of practicality. Everything here had a purpose and a use, nothing was ornamental. "Thank you for seeing us Lord Hafgrimmr, I know what a busy man you are." He pulled out one of the two chairs opposite the desk and sat down.
Gylffi stood as the lady priest entered, but as she reached the desk she simply stood behind the first priest leading Gylffi to wait for an uncomfortable duration before sitting down again. "What can I do for the one true church today?" He said with his usual amount of impeccable diplomacy.
"Yes, yes," the priest laughed, "right to business, so very Vesten. I have been in your land nearly a decade, and I find your people's curtness and sensibility most refreshing."
"Not a Vesten yourself?" Asked Gylffi.
"No, no," he laughed again as he shook his head, "but I have been nearly everywhere in Theah in my pursuit of the truth. In fact I found Sister Mary Rose here as a child in the Crescent Empire. Her devotion to her faith in the Prophet is an inspiration to me every day."
Gylffi looked into the pale eyes over the veil and shuddered mildly as he tried to see a hint of anything he'd consider human. What the priest had done to the child that became this woman Gylffi didn't want to consider. "Again father," he paused, expecting him to proffer a name besides father, but none came, "what is it you need of me?"
"Yes," I am on a vital expedition for the church, and we have… competition for the goal."
"And how can I help with this… competition?" Asked Gylffi.
"They are on their way here, following us." Continued the priest, "we need you to detain them, in any way possible. Three of your countrymen and a Castilian. In return, I can offer the aid of the church to shine a light on the League's mistreatment of your Allthing laws, the laws that differentiate thrall which is legal, from slave which is not."
"You claim to know what goes on in my town," Gylffi's tone now less patient and not at all amused. How long has this serpent of a man been watching his town?
"I have… friends, in the Močiutės Skara."
"I see," said Gylffi, a knot in his stomach growing despite how simple the request seemed, "so I detain these people for you for a few days and you straighten out the Vendel League for me?"
"Indeed," the man smiled, "however you need only detain the men, the girl I wish delivered to me at the docks. She has a use in my quest. You might say she's the key to its end."
The Jarl had never felt so trapped by a bargain in his life. On the one hand, he could solve the broken Allthings laws without seeming like he was ever complacent in it. On the other hand, he wasn't really sure what this was about, who these strangers he wanted delayed were, or what he intended with this girl. He looked up at the Crescent Empire woman behind the man and wondered if he had a similar fate in store for this other girl. He would be agreeing to terms blind, but he had already done that with the League to get himself into this mess. "What is this quest you are on, if I may ask?" Gylffi eventually risked asking.
The look on the priest's face seemed to imply he was unsure he would understand if he did tell him. "A horn," he said finally, "to summon the fourth prophet from the heavens."
"Sounds delightful," Gylffi replied with as much tact as he could muster.
The priest stood and produced a leather-bound book, he laid it on the Jarl's desk, "oh, and I need you to hold on to this for me. I believe it will convince those we seek to find you." He smiled and turned, leaving the unnerving gaze of Sister Mary Rose on Gylffi for a few uncomfortable seconds before she turned and followed. Gylffi was left in a cold sweat, he felt as if he had experienced high tea with the god of hellfire and strife, himself. Horlga entered a few moments later, "what was that?"
"Possibly salvation, possibly damnation." He answered quietly. "We won't know till we have walked through the fire and come out the other side."
She looked at the book on his desk, "and what of that?"
Gylffi sighed, shaking his head, "it is staying where it lay until we figure out what this is about."
Airk's laugh filled the hall, it broke his singing up so much that he never really finished a verse. But Tara didn’t need him to sing like a champion skald, she loved it when he could be this happy. So he quaffed and sang, told stories, and listened to them, and Tara sat sipping wine that Vulf had recommended. While Airk enjoyed the hall's ale, she enjoyed the wine with Vulf and Inigo.
"Where does he put it?" Asked Inigo, astounded. "I swear he's had a barrel already and he keeps going."
"If we are expecting trouble, would it not be best if he is not drunk?" Added Vulf, eyeing Tara over his glass.
"I assure the both of you, he is not even buzzed yet." Smiled Tara. "Come to think of it, I don't believe I have ever seen him drunk. And I've known him all my life. It's really not fair" she finished in a quiet mutter.
Inigo sighed loudly and sipped the fruity taste of Castilian wine that reminded him of his home village. The kind they drank celebrating Los Vagabundos and his exploits.
"This kind of revelry is not to your liking, my lady?" Asked Vulf with a smile.
"No one back home wants to revel with the girl who can describe your death," said Tara, her smile disappearing. "So no, I don't do much revelry. Also, you can stop with the ladyship titles, I don't let Airk address me that way and I'm not about to let you start."
Her now stern glance convincing Vulf he hadn miss stepped badly in his conversation, as well as his attempt to glean more familiarity with the stoic blonde.
Inigo tipped up the remainder of his glass to force a reason to excuse himself from the now awkward table. As the Castilian weaved his way to the back of the mead hall he realized that Airk may not be feeling anything yet but a bottle of Castilian Sangria had him feeling light. He slipped out the door in the back to discover the facilities were just a door to the alleyway with a trough to the city drainage ditch mounted to the back wall of the building. The alley was also occupied by a jenny plying her trade rather brazenly. Inigo ignored the working girl andset about the task he came to complete. As he finished his quest he was rather rudely introduced to a bag that slipped over his head as his arms were pulled behind his back.
"Hey, can I at least button up?" Cried Inigo, as he was led away.
"How much longer?" Asked Vulf, getting impatient.
"They should have taken Inigo by now, and the rest will soon come through the front." Replied Tara.
"Wait," said Vulf, a little loud, "they took Inigo separately? You didn't mention that."
"They wanted to seperate duelist first. That they think our swordsman is the most dangerous means we have the advantage." Tara replied, trying to get Vulf back down to her conversation volume.
"And the plan is to surrender?"
"They left the journal in the Jarl's office, right where they will be taking us to him. We can negotiate with him and not have to deal with the Vaticine inquisitors." Tara smiled. "I've already seen it." Vulf looked even more nervous to her now, "relax, this is your chance to shine on this adventure."
On cue the doors opened to the hall and eight town guards made their entrance, bringing the revelry to a stop. The captain made his way to the table that sat Tara and Vulf. Airk could still be heard singing at the back of the hall.
"I'm afraid you folks need to come with us," the guard captain began, "the Jarl has some inquiries for the four of you."
"Of course," began Vulf standing, he adjusted his coat with an aristocratic air as Tara stood and donned her furs as well.
Two guards flanked each of them and as two grabbed Vulf by the arms, "we are coming with you peacefully, there is no reason to lay hands on anyone," he began as the others reached Tara, "especially her!"
The guards grabbed Tara and she could feel the plan going downhill rapidly. She heard a familiar voice in her ear as one of the guards leaned in. "Oh, I've been itching to lay hands on you for a while."
"Cutter!" She gasped, "you idiot."
"Didn't expect to hear from me again. No one does what you two did to me and gets away." He smiled greasily.
"Hey!" Came a bellow from the other side of the hall, as a stool from a random table streaked across the room to strike the other guard in the back. The impact knocked the man away from Tara and into three other guards in front of her. "No one touches her!"
"I gave you a chance, Cutter," said Tara as kicked the man dressed as a Klorhulg guard away from her, "you should have disappeared when you left the Divine Wench. Now I don't know if I'll be able to keep him from killing you when he recognizes you."
Airk barreled into four more guards as he covered the length of the hall in a few strides. "Cutter," he said as Airk locked eyes with him as they both pulled themselves off the floor.
Cutter, wide eyed at the Vesten's look of rage, ran out the front door into the city. Airk bolted after him, still mad about what he pulled before and now adding laying his hands on her.
Tara looked at Vulf as she ran after Airk, "stick to the plan. Surrender and negotiate with the Jarl."
Vulf was left alone in the hall with the town guard attempting to collect themselves. "Well, I guess you better take me to your boss then."
Cutter ran his sword down the hitching post, releasing the guard's mounts and scattering them with a yell. He grabbed the reins of the closest and swung himself into the saddle, riding off to put as much distance between him and the big man as he could. Airk’s hands closed inches short of Cutter's leg as the horse sped away. Cutter looked back to see Arik running after him so close he could see the red veins in the whites of his eyes. He spotted a squad of more guards and shouted as he rode past, "Don't just stand there, stop him!"
The guards drew their blades as they stepped out into the street between Cutter and Airk. Airk didn't even slow down. He swung a fist into the chest of the first guard, sending him back into two of his friends. The three ended up in a pile ten feet back from where they started. The red haired Vesten grabbed the sword arm of another that swung at him and slung him around like a club into the last member of the troop, before continuing the arc and flinging the man like a projectile at the fleeing Cutter. But the horse was too fast, leaving the hurled man falling short of its target.
"Damn!" Screamed Airk as Tara ran up to him panting.
She struck his arm with the heel of her hand, "we were supposed to be captured, you oaf. That was the plan."
"They touched you." He replied, still staring at the fleeing Cutter.
"I was fine, don't blame your screw up on me." She looked at the target of his rage as Cutter rounded the corner. "Besides, we know where he's going." She said more calmly. "Back to his ship. It's the only place he'll be safe, he thinks." And she left at a run down an alleyway in more of a direct line to the docks.
"Of course, you're always right." He yelled to her, in a better mood as he followed.
Inigo was made to kneel down in what sounded like a big room as every sound echoed. His arms were bound behind his back, but thankfully one of his captors had refastened his trousers. And he was thankful for, whoever it was for having skilled fingers. When the bag was finally removed and his eyes adjusted, he discovered he was not taken to the Jarl as Tara had predicted but was knelt down in the town's church as it appeared. It was not as ornate as the Vaticine churches in his homeland tended to be. A good sized room that might seat a hundred of the Vesten in town at a time, a lectern up front as normal and a small organ in the left front corner. It was nice, if small but still devout. He supposed the same could be said for the priest that stood before him. He was at least in his mid to late fifties, maybe sixties, and gray of hair and beard. The latter was also quite long and full in Vesten style with its many braids woven into it. His eyes were, contrary to Inigo's current circumstances, quite kind.
"I am sorry for the abrupt and unfriendly nature of this meeting my son," he began, as if he already knew what Inigo was thinking. His voice, like his eyes, was soft and gentle. He walked over to the bound Castilian and produced a knife from under his robes, "I mean you know harm, but we must speak," he continued as he cut the bindings around Inigo's wrists. "I am father Tyrson."
Inigo stood, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had constricted. "I am not the one in charge, amigo," he began, "you would have been better taking Vulf, or Miss Tara."
"Ah, but it was you I assumed would be more devoutly Vatacine. The sister and her brother are of Ivethay’s ilk and so were raised in the old religion. And Mr. Ulrikson, I am not sure he is faithful to anything besides guilders."
"Glory," proffered up Inigo with a snort, not sure of why he was so at ease with his kidnapper now, "Vulf wants to be remembered for all time."
"It's a sight better than the motivation of the man you are in competition with, I believe he truly wishes to bring about the end of the world." Father Tyrson said with a pale pallor washing over his face.
"Why," asked Inigo, "surely he realizes he lives here too?"
"Like your friend, he seeks a kind of glory. To go to the afterlife knowing he was responsible for scouring every last heathen from the face of Theah." Tyrson began to pace in front of the Castilian, "he is a grand inquisitor, he was stationed in Soroya years ago, and although most of my parish merely pays lip service to the church, they do pay their service. No one attended his church. For a priest this is disheartening, for an inquisitor it is infuriating. He could not reap an entire town, so he began looking for a way to cull every heathen on Theah at once. He abandoned his church and came to mine years ago. Combing through my materials in the cellar, both Vaticine and about the Allfather as well. He said it was just research but one day he and his vassal left abruptly. I believe he had found what he was looking for."
"I think Miss Tara called it the Gjallarhorn." Offered Inigo, "we are attempting to stop him."
"Heimdall's horn," the father gasped, "then we are doomed."
"Such heretical talk, my brother." Came a voice from the doorway. The two loyal parishioners that brought Inigo here lay on either side of the doorway, their throats cut and the priest woman twirling her bladed beads. "Surely the faithful would rejoice as the Great Reclamation is at hand."
"I will praise the Reclamation at the time the Creator decides, it is not to be decided by a bitter man because he did not have the ability to inspire a congregation."
"This land is full of nothing but heathens in need of scrubbing off the face of this world!" The priest yelled back.
"I have faithful in my congregation," he gestured to the two men dead on the floor, "you just murdered two of them. Rather the opposite of an inquisitor, isn't it?"
"And which version are you teaching your faithful, brother," The priest's words dripping with disdain, "the true, or the blasphemy?"
"I can't imagine why your congregation never took to your preaching," the voice of Father Tyrson losing it's gentle tone, "who wouldn't want to hear the word from someone with contempt for your very existence?"
"I have no time for this gentlemen, I am only here to deal with the blasphemy I witnessed while I was here last and I'm off to scrub the scourge of heathens from all of Theah." He turned to walk away and said to the sister, "be sure they feel the full pain of their blasphemy. No quick deaths."
Sister Mary Rose extended her arms as more length of the deadly prayer beads ratcheted out of her sleeve, and began to spin in threatening patterns. One string shot out flying directly at Father Tyrson. Inigo peared the chain with a parrying dagger, causing it to wrap around the blade.
"Run Padre, I'll hold this bitch off." Said Inigo, as the killer priest spun, yanking the dagger from his hand and bringing another blade slashing across Inigo's face. He dabbed at the blood on his cheek, "oh, you will pay for that puta."
The last alleyway emptied out into a market, just before the warehouses then the docks. Tara and Airk stopped by a stall selling decorative shields to hang on walls as Tara caught her breath. Airk did not tire as fast so he picked up a shield to examine it. Tara made a disapproving face and shook her head, "I don't think they'd hold up in combat."
"It's decorative, we could hang them in our shield hall," he replied, "if we ever get it built."
"If I'm going to hang shields in our hall, they will be real shields." She said a little too quickly to be aware of the connotations she was leaving open.
"So you do want to build a hall with me?" He said as his smile grew.
"That's not…I didn't," she tried to take back what she said but just became more flustered.
Four guards arrived in the market, two musketeers and their reloaders, and started to set for firing. Airk quickly flung the shield, sending it spinning flat at one of the musket men. The shield struck the musket and caused it to shatter, spraying the other gunman with splinters of wood and metal forcing him to cover his face and drop his musket. The remainder of the shield plowed into the guardsman's chest like a cannonball, and sent him hurtling back into his reloader. Both men collapsed to the ground, the reloader spilling his horn of powder all over the street.
"Throwing shields?" Tara pondered, "I guess it has potential."
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Airk picked up another as the stall owner stared with wide eyes. He proceeded then to hold it up in front of him and raise his eyebrows at the remaining men. The guards wasted no time in gathering themselves up and fleeing the market.
Tara turned to the merchant, "I'm sorry, we ruined one of them. How much for the shield?"
The man looked back at her still wide eyed, "Don't worry about it, I now have something no one else does." He the. Sprouted a big smile, pulled out a brush and paint then began to redo his sign.
"I'd make the next batch smaller," said Tara as the man painted 'throwing shields' on his sign, "not everyone is as strong as him." As she pointed to Airk.
They left the craftsman to remake his business and continued on to the docks.
The guard pushed Vulf into Gylffi's office, prompting a turn to give the guard a 'what is your problem' look before striding up to the Jarl to offer a hand. "Volfgang Roderick Stelan Ulrikson,"
"Yes, I know you. You are from Vendel, are you not?" Countered Gylffi, not taking the hand. "Though I didn't expect it to be you when the priest described the group. Why are you in my town?"
"I was not aware we were not allowed to be here, but if you are working with the priest then you must know why we are here." Vulf smiled and sat down in the chair opposite the desk.
"Is he really after a magic horn to summon his Prophet?" Gylffi also sat down. Horlga entered and handed him a piece of paper before exiting without a word.
Vulf watched her leave before answering, "well yes, if my clairvoyant friend is right, it is no ordinary horn. It is the Gjallarhorn." He eyed the book on the end of Gylffi's desk.
"He seeks to start the twilight of the gods?" His eyes were a little wider at this statement and he shook the paper at the carl. "Is that why your friends are destroying my town? Just to stop him?"
It was Vulf's turn to feint surprise. "The man seeks to end the world and you are not only working for him but question why we would stop at nothing to prevent it?"
"I do not work for him," Gylffi's voice raised, but then lowered to a more negotiation-like level, "he has offered to solve certain problems in my town for your delay. And he has assured me the church can accomplish what he promises."
"He seeks to end the world, my lord." Vulf felt he was once more on the moral high ground in this discussion, "I mean yes, these two of my friends possess a talent for leaving destruction in their wake, but if he gets to the horn there will be no problems to solve as there will be no world. He can make you any promise he wants because he knows he won't have to pay up." Vulf picked up the book and opened it. The pages were blank. It looked like Williamson's journal but it was a fake. "And he left this here to bait us into wasting time thinking you had it. While he loses nothing, and risks nothing." He tossed the fake book back down on Gylffi's desk with a thump.
Gylffi was looking grim at this point, and Vulf realized he had just figured out how bad his deal was. "And just what is it that you and your friends can do for me?"
"My companions and I are a highly skilled and diverse group. Just hand over my duelist and we'll stop the priest before he can blow that horn."
"We only found you and the two from Weird lake at the mead hall."
"Wait, if you don't have Inigo, who does?"
Inigo dodged between the pews, desperately deflecting the flying beaded blades off his rapier. The priest woman was relentless, spinning, lashing and whipping the deadly prayer beads at him. Small cuts were reducing his clothes to rags as the blades came uncomfortably ever closer with each strike. What really annoyed the Castilian duelist was her attacks kept him at a distance. Even if he could go on the offensive he could not maneuver into her arc of death to get a strike at her. The whip-like strings were a weapon and shield combined. "You are a hard person to get close to, senorita." Inigo smiled, trying to throw her off however he could, "must make it quite difficult for your love life."
Inigo leapt up on to the back of a pew and tried to run across them to the front door. He had given Father Tyrson plenty of time to escape, now it was time to make his. The Vaticine assassin slung two strings into the roof supports above her and launched herself into the air. As Inigo neared the front of the church he felt her two feet collide with his back. Inigo was sent sprawling into the vestibule, sliding across the stone floor. Inigo turned on his side and pushed himself onto his knees as he slid to a stop. A quick hop set him onto his feet as the Lady of Blood entered, having to pll in the arc of her whirling blades to pass through the door. Inigo sprang inside her defenses. Sister Mary Rose dodged to the side, wrapping a string of beads around the rapier. Inigo immediately turned the blade downward and thrust it into the wooden floor before she could wrest the sword from his grasp. She moved to the length of her chain and had her feet yanked out from under her when the chain didn't give.
Inigo was on her in two strides, his hand going to his dagger only to find it missing. It still lay on the floor of the church where he saved the priest. But he was not willing to sacrifice his ire, daggerless he balled up his fist and drove it into the veiled face of the lady priest. "That's right, I don't have any hang ups on hitting a woman, perra!"
Sister Mary Rose planted her hands on either side of her head and with a kick of her legs, landed back on her feet before sprinting out the door. The chain stick on his sword reeled out until it fell to the floor. Inigo didn't bother to chase after her. He retrieved his sword and dagger before coiling up her abandoned weapon and putting it in one of his pouches. Now all he had to do was find the others.
Tara was still well ahead of Airk after three alleyways. The alleys were all congested with stored items, wagons and rubbish from the surrounding warehouses. Airk had to duck and weave in, out and under the detritus while Tara, not short by any other standard than Airk, slipped through more easily. Airk had lost a dozen steps to her at this point and she felt like she did when they were kids and could outpace him.
Still distracted by her uncharacteristic lead she dashed out into the next street faster than she should have. The mounted town guardsman drew his sword as he charged the blonde maiden at full run. He was two seconds from his swing when Airk collided with the charging stallion. He wrapped his arms around the beast's neck and with a tug, hurled the horse over his left shoulder away from Tara, rider and all. The animal struck the ground with a meaty thump but the throw catapulted the guard onto the roof of the next storage building.
Tara ran over to the horse as it struggled, dazed to its feet. The girl stroked its head softly and looked into its eyes. The horse was calm in and docile in but a few heartbeats. She looked it over quickly to check for injuries from an over muscled oaf tossing it like a sack of potatoes but, thankfully found none. She swung herself into the saddle and held a hand down for Airk. He looked at her questioningly and she remarked, "come on, you know I am a better rider than you." As he swung himself up behind her she added, "it would help if you didn't scare the poor creatures."
"That was one horse, and I didn't scare him, he just hated me." Replied Airk, "he didn't like anyone but you as a matter of fact."
"He-ya!" She cried and the horse shot into a dead run. "Now maybe we can catch that salt water weasel."
"So you are missing a companion, the woman and her brother are tearing through my town, making fools of my town guard, and you came here willingly to negotiate?" Gylffi summarized.
"Inigo was taken by someone, as Tara foresaw. And as for her and Airk, if you call off your men this would be a whole lot more manageable." Four more messages had made it into the Jarl's office while they talked. Drinks had been poured, but even the liquor did no good in loosening Gylffi's lips on what the priest had promised to clean up. "Look, I understand that whatever it is the priest offered is embarrassing, but unless I know what it is I don't know how to counter the offer. But I do know you would be better off dealing with us than that devil in a priest's coat."
Horlga entered once more, this time she was white in the face. She carried no note this time but stepped up to Gylffi's desk, "sir, we just got word from the mine foreman. There's been a cave in down shaft seven."
"That's the new shaft, most of their workers would be there. How many are trapped?" Whispered the Jarl.
"We have no way of knowing, since," she paused, looking at Vulf, but decided him finding out their business was less important than what was happening, "since we don't know how many 'workers' the camp is currently holding because of the League's current practices."
Now Gilffi turned to Vulf with absolute hatred, "you and those like you in the Vendel League have brought this upon us. You want to know my shame? You want to know what the priest used to get my cooperation? The silver demand is so steep the League has replaced all the mine workers from the town with slaves!" Gylffi stood violently at the last word. As if it was Vulf himself that did this.
"No, slaves are illegal in Vestenmennavenjar. The Allthing laws prevent anything other than thralls who can work off their debt." Vulf pleaded, not believing the League would do such a thing.
"They replaced the paid workers with thralls when they couldn't keep up, then replaced the thralls when they worked off their debts too fast." Said Horlga with an equally stern look at Vulf. "They may call them thralls on the books, but they use fake debts they can never pay off to keep them digging."
"These poor souls have no choice but to dig till they die." Added Gylffi.
Vulf had to fight to keep from smiling at this grim subject, but he knew he had his solution. "If we can rescue the miners, and expose what is going on, will you let us be so we can continue after the Vaticine?"
"Rescue the people, yes most importantly, and get us their books, if you can. Then yes, you will receive no further trouble from us." Said Gylffi with a nod.
Tara spurred the horse on, the mast of the Cutthroat loomed over the warehouses of the district. "We have them. We can get there before they sail and stop this." She yelled to Arik behind her. The pair turned a corner to the entrance of the docks to a squad of forty men brandishing muskets and leveling it at the town and their horse. Tara pulled on the reins, skidding the horse to a halt. "No, no, no," cried Tara, shaking her head. "We don't have time for this."
"I can try to break their formation while you ride on to the boat." Airk offered.
"No," she yelled, "I'll not sacrifice you just to get to them." She looked about quickly, "is there another way to the docks, around them maybe?"
"We can go back," Airk pointed the way they'd come, "I think there was another Alley back there between buildings."
The two turned the stallion round and brought it back to full gallop. They raced down the road trying to spot another way through to the docks when they spotted Vulf riding around the corner from another lane. He galloped up to them on a pure white horse decked out in black barding with silver accents. He skidded the horse to a stop next to them.
"There has been a cave in at the mine, and if we rescue the workers we will be free to go." Vulf explained rapidly, "also the mine is completely worked by slaves and Inigo is missing. So we need proof they are slaves and we need to find Inigo as well as rescue the miners. Did I miss anything?"
"We don't have time," sighed Tara, "the Cutthroat could sail at any time and we can't afford to lose them. They have the book and we don't."
"I thought the Jarl had the book," Said Airk.
"It's blank," answered Vulf, "the priest left a fake to bait us. It's like he knew you'd know it was there."
"Cutter," spat Tara, "Cutter has joined his crew and he knows about us."
"That doesn’t matter right now, tthere are people in danger and we can get Gylffi on our side if we help. Surely you can get them out?" He said to Airk.
"Tara, people are in danger." He said softly to the woman in front of him on the horse.
Tara sighed. Blast his heroic nature! She knew he could never abandon people in need. But it was who he was, who she of all people, had taught him to be. And she loved him for it. "The whole world is in danger," she said softly, "but you are right. Lead the way Vulf."
They rode hard through the streets, and true to his word Gylffi's men not only stayed out of their way, they cleared the streets to let them pass.
"Vulf, you have a passenger pick up!" Tara shouted to the carl.
Further ahead in the road walked a torn and tired Inigo, making his way to the docks. Vulf beared down on the Castilian and held out a hand. Inigo grasped it and swung himself into the saddle behind the Vesten merchant.
"Where have you been?" Vulf asked.
"I had a little run in with our blood soaked lady priest. I am fine, but my acutrimonts have seen better days." Said Inigo holding on to his employer on their mad ride. "And also, aren't we going in the opposite direction from the docks?"
"I smoothed things over with the Jarl of Klorhulg." Began Vulf, "but we also have to help some trapped miners up in the silver mine. I figure Airk can surely dig faster than all their free workers combined." At this he gestured back to Airk and Tara on the horse behind them. "Also, while he saves the people we have to find proof that the League is using slaves to do the work."
"Slaves are illegal," cried Inigo. Especially in your country."
"I didn't want to believe the League was capable, but yes. We need to find who is responsible and drag them into the light." Vulf turned to Tara and Airk, "I realize now, why you two hate me and people like me in the League."
"As for the whole League, that remains to be seen," said Tara, whose expression then turned to a smile, "as for you, you're growing on us."
"Does that include him?" He indicated Airk.
"It does if I tell him he does." She smiled.
"Hey! I can make up my own mind!" Airk complained.
"Which means agreeing with me," said Tara, "right?"
"Yes ma'am," he conceded, as they entered the mining camp.
Cutter entered the captain's quarters that the inquisitor had annexed. There was no sign of the woman, which put him more at ease. The priest was looking over the map table once again.
"What part of the plan was beyond your understanding?" He began, without looking up from the table, "you were to just observe from in the ranks and not interfere unless, it seemed, that they were not going to bring the woman to me."
"She knew," said Cutter confidently, "they were willing to be taken so they could turn Gylffi on us. I heard them as we approached. My plan was to take her and leave the guards to fight with him."
"And how did that work out for you Mr. Cutter?" He asked, finally looking up from the map.
"Um," he started.
"No good conversation has ever started with, um." Said the priest, "let me guess now, it didn't work out for you."
"He..he got the drop on me, your Grace." Stuttered Cutter, "he was on me faster than I had anticipated."
"Maybe you should have waited then," said the inquisitor, "until perhaps the guard already had him in chains."
"Yes your Grace," Cutter looked sheepish. "I did have a couple of the boys from the crew sabotage the supply of beams for the mine. It's currently in collapse and the fools are headed there now to help. That should keep them busy while we set sail."
"Brilliant Mr. Cutter, but we would be setting sail without the girl." He said with a smile, it quickly disappeared as he added, "the girl we need to achieve our goal."
Now it was Cutter's turn to smile, "we could leave the Blood Siren in port. A lot easier to snatch the girl from off our own ship than a big city."
The priest knew the Captain had hidden talents. The ease at which he kept command of three ships hinted at it. Yes he thought. They could lay a trap and strand the Beast away from his Beauty.
As the horses cantered to a stop in the camp, Tara slid immediately off hers and once again to Vulf's dismay took charge.
"We will see to the people in the mine, you two get to the office and find what we need to prove what is going on here. By any means necessary." She turned to Airk without waiting on a reply from Vulf and Inigo. "Let's get to the entrance and see if someone there has a map of the tunnels."
And the two were off leaving them to watch them dash to the mine.
"When did I lose control of this expedition?" Asked Vulf.
"To be fair, hermano," said Inigo, "you never were really in charge." He saw the shocked look of his friend and expounded, "I mean, charm and intellect only mean so much when the other person knows what's going to happen ahead of time."
Vulf looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "fair enough." Then the two made their way to the mine buildings.
The digging was slow going, there was only a fraction of the crew left above ground when it collapsed. They were trying their best to move enough rock as fast as possible, but the new shaft was farther back than any before. The workers had to move each stone farther than arm's reach between links in the load chain. With the extra steps they were tiring more quickly than they should.
Tara and Airk found the foreman quickly and found out what was happening. He happily told them how the support beam had broken soon after they put it in and now more than half the workers were trapped behind the rubble, especially when they said they were here to help. As Tara studied the map of the tunnel system, shouts from the mine alerted all nearby another beam was giving way closer up the shaft. Airk didn't hesitate and ran into the mouth of the mine as others ran out.
The mine was not dug with Airk in mind, he had to squeeze by others leaving ss he entered. But as he reached the entrance to spur seven he could see five people desperately trying to keep up a roof timber that had split down the middle and sagged half way into the tunnel. Dirt and stone poured like water around the split wood, and a minecart was all that was currently keeping it from finishing the trip. Airk stooped under the broken beam and kicked the cart out as he pushed up with all his might. The wood groaned, the dirt and stone rose back up into the mountain, and Airk held the timber in its previous position.
"Get a support beam under it!" Said Airk through gritted teeth, as he noticed the miners just standing there staring at what he had accomplished.
"You expect him to hold it forever?" Yelled Tara, who had just arrived and was grabbing one end of a timber from a nearby cart.
Together the six of them wedged the timber under the beam and allowed Airk to slip out. The miners cheered but Tara interrupted the celebration, "there are still people trapped, where is the cave in?"
"This way," said a dark skinned, older man, and led the group down the tunnel.
Vulf and Inigo reached the office of the mine master. He looked at the Castilian and smiled, "what say we do this their way?" Indicating Tara and Airk.
Vulf kicked in the door before Inigo could even reply, and pulled out a flintlock. Inigo shook his head but smiled as he pulled out his rapier
"Hello!" Yelled Vulf, leveling the barrel at a clerk just inside the door. "We are here from the Vesten League audit department, we would love to see your books!"
The scrawny looking clerk screamed and fell back over the stool he had behind the desk. At the scream, two burly men entered from the back room and charged at the carl. Inigo stepped in front of his employer and swiped with blinding speed, leaving one man with a slash on his forearm and the other a nasty gash on his thigh. The man with the leg injury stumbled back clutching his wound and fell to the floor. However, the arm injury picked up a stray chair and prepared to bash Inigo with it.
"You should have followed your friend's lead, estupido." Inigo taunted as he sidestepped the chair and whipped his blade across the back of his hand, causing him to drop the chair. Another spin and the duelist slashed the blade across his behind, opening up his trousers and breeches, exposing his bare behind. The man quickly exited the building in a panic.
Vulf stepped around the desk and pointed the pistol at the clerk once more, "now, where were we?"
Within minutes the three were in the records room, the clerk handing Inigo ledgers that he promptly stuffed into bags to take back to Gylffi.
The mine master stormed into the room, red in the face, "what is the meaning of this? Those are property of the Vendel League and are private documents!"
The click of the flintlock's hammer behind his ear instantly silenced the man and drained his face of all color. Vulf had been behind the door, leafing through one of the ledgers. "What a coincidence, I am from the Vendel League myself and I have found the most interesting things in these documents." Vulf stepped around the man still leveling the weapon at his face. "Take this boy here, "he continued, opening the book so the man could see the print, "this boy is sixteen, what did he spend this many guilders on that he has nothing to show for it and will never be able to pay off his debt, even if he works his whole life here?"
"What they spend their money on is… is of no concern to me. I just run things here." He replied shakily, Vulf threw the journal at him, bouncing it off the man's chest.
He took another from Inigoband let it flip open without lowering the gun. "I'm sure that's true, but what about this woman?" He held this book in front of him as well. "She has been accruing more debt since she's been here. Tell me how she buys things if she doesn't get paid, how she grows debt if she doesn't receive anything for it. These people aren't thralls they're slaves!"
"P..pp..please," the man stammered as sweat rolled down his face, even in the cold weather up here, "I just do what I'm told. What the League tells me to do."
"I'm sure you do," sneered Vulf as he lowered the flintlock and un-cocked the hammer, "so as a representative of the League, I'm telling you to start running. If I step out and see you after we finish here I am going to put a shot into you. If I ever see you again, in fact after today I will shoot your slaving ass and put you in the ground!" He pulled back the hammer once more and pointed it at the man, "go!"
The mine master dashed out of the building and ran down the trail towards the town. He didn’t look back once, expecting a shot to ring out at any second.
Airk and Tara arrived at the cave-in with the other miners in tow. Before them was a solid wall of piled stone with only a few paltry bites taken from it by the previous rescue attempt. Airk immediately began tossing rocks aside to clear the path to the trapped people. But as he dug more dirt and stones began to trickle down on him.
"Stop!" Said the older man that had led them down here, "it won't hold."
"Then we make a new passage," said Tara, with a nod to Airk.
"There's no time," said the old man, "they'll be out of air before we can dig a whole new passage to them."
Tara looked at the old man and asked, "trust us."
He shrugged and pointed at a spot to the left of the old passage. "But we didn’t go that way originally because it's solid stone."
Airk stepped up to the spot and, doubling up his fists swung at the stone. The rock cracked at the impact and fist sized stones fell away. Again and again he struck the rock and the debris doubled in size. Suddenly rocks fell from the wall the size of a man's head. Over and over he struck, the miners stood in awe at the man making three times the progress a team of ten of them made.
Suddenly the old timer piped up, "wait, wait," and ran back down the tunnel.
He returned with a large metal spike with flues carved on it. The other miners dove in and helped the man hold the drill against the hole Airk was pounding into the stone.
"Now strike the end, son," smiled the old man, "hit it with all you have."
Airk struck the end and the drill bit into the rock, turning as he pounded it in. The shape of the tool ground and splintered the rock more efficiently and the pace quickened. Some of the others holding the drill broke off to toss larger rocks out of the way as the digging continued. Twice the old timer called for them to stop and readjusted the drill to curve the passage toward the trapped people. In less than an hour from when they began the tip of the drill broke through into the chamber where the trapped slaves waited.
"Vesili!" Cried the old man as the dust settled.
It was quiet for a long few heartbeats when, "Jarley?" Came the response from inside.
The old man dashed inside, when Tara and Airk caught up the two men were embracing.
"How is everyone?" Jarley asked.
"We lost twenty in the collapse.' Said Vesili, a Sarmatian about the same age as Jarley. "And About seven more are injured. Poor Sigurd got the worst. The ceiling fell on his back. We dug him out but he can't move."
"No," said Jarley, shedding tears, "not the wee lad."
They went over to where a young boy lay face down in the lap of another miner as she stroked his hair. Tara saw a boy no more than ten, a Vesten boy that reminded her of Airk years ago in the snow, but his back was purple with bruises, and she wept.
"Everyone, out through the tunnel," called Tara, collecting herself, "anyone able, carry the injured." She turned to Airk, "take the boy, and be gentle."
He took the boy in his arms as survivors poured out into the main shaft. As Vesili passed through the newly carved tunnel he remarked, "five hundred feet in an hour Jarley, how did you do it?"
"He did it," pointing to Airk. "And he pushed up a collapsing ceiling off the main spur with his bare hands."
As the people stepped out into the evening air, a roar of cheers pierced the night. The injured were laid werever could be found and Visili said to Airk, "take him to the Doc. Hopefully she can do something for him."
Vulf and Inigo found them at the doctor's shed. She had looked Sigurd over and proclaimed there was nothing she could do before leaving to see to the other injured. The two old timers held one of his hands as they held each other's.
"Was it bad?" Asked Vulf.
"Twenty dead." Said Tara.
Vulf punched a support beam, "I can't believe the League would do this."
Jarley took Tara’s hand, "can you do anything for him, my lady?"
She looked into eyes that seemed to have lost their own son and wiped a tear from her eye saying, "I cannot heal people. The best my runes could do is move the damage from one person to another."
"Then give it to me." Said Airk.
"Airk, no!" She gasped. "It's too much."
"I can take it, Tara. You know I can."
"Oh, thank you!" Cried Vesili, "we are in your debt, surely."
Tara was now cornered. She didn't want Airk in that shape, but he could take so much more than anyone else. She looked at him sadly as he sat next to the boy, "Airk?" She mouthed to him silently, but he simply nodded.
Tara took a clay tablet from her pouch and carved the runes. She broke it and placed a hand on either of them. Airk gritted his teeth as the bruising on the boy receded. There was a crunching sound from Sigurd's back just before Airk started screaming. Finally it was done and Airk sat there panting.
"Airk?" She asked softly.
He forced a smile at her, "all good my shieldmaiden."
She hugged him quickly then helped him stand. But when he got to his feet, he nearly fell over.
When Gylffi's carriage stopped in the mining camp, Vulf and Tara were under each arm of Airk, helping him out of the medical shed. As they reached him he felt his breath taken away. Descriptions he had heard of her eyes could not do them justice.
"You are Lady Tara, I presume." Said Gylffi, trying to be as stately as he could muster.
"Just Tara," she added gruffly, and Gylffi wasn't sure if it was from annoyance or strain from holding up the big man. "I'm not a Lady proper."
"I had heard you to be a princess of Ivethay Island." He replied with a wink. He looked at Airk, "is he alright?"
"I'll be fine." Said Airk.
"The lout thought he'd take the injury for a boy with a broken back," said Tara with a jab to the rib.
"Your journals, my lord." Vulf said, handing him the bags with the record books.
Gylffi, thoroughly confused at this point, took the books and thanked them. "It seems I'm in your debt now."
"Just let us leave," said Tara, "we need to be after the priest before he gets too far ahead."
"Of course," the Jarl replied, "in fact take my carriage to the docks, it seems I shall be here a while collating stories with these people."
"Thank you, my lord." Said Vulf with a flourish that left Airk wincing in pain.
Sister Mary Rose looked out at the berth occupied by the Divine Wench from the deck of the Blood Siren as it passed. She had made it to the ship before it sailed, and now she could see the giant and his witch climbing the gang plank. The beast of a man seemed injured, requiring his friend's aid to make it to the ship. She secretly smiled under her veil as she finished the note and rolled it up to be placed in the messenger raven. She secured the note and sent the bird skyward to begin its journey to the Cutthroat. The trap was set.