Chapter 11

17 August 149 Third Age

Many are intrigued by the enigma of medicine, yet few dig deep enough to unravel its mysteries. A mere scratch beneath its surface often reveals layers of complexity, demanding years of dedicated study for even a rudimentary grasp. Carrack, having once explored the vast realm of medicine, found it too intricate for his liking. Yet, his limited knowledge sufficed to understand the workings of the remedy Alaina had given him.

While the medication bore a scientific name reserved for scholarly circles, the general populace recognized it by various monikers. To Carrack, it was “cold spice”, named both for its cool sensation and its seasoning-like taste. It hadn’t been long since he consumed another dose while resting on a cot in Alaina’s lab. A refreshing chill emanated from his core, coursing rapidly to his limbs. As the trembles ebbed and the pain retreated, he could once again absorb his surroundings.

Alaina, Weiss, and Foeham had listened intently as Carrack recounted his harrowing experience, sparing them, however, from the suspicions he harbored about the corpse they found.

Alaina’s face betrayed no emotion, her gaze fixed on the floor, seemingly deciphering a pattern on the stones. In stark contrast, Weiss showed agitation, pacing the room, one hand on his hip while the other stroked his mouth, frequently shaking his head in disbelief. Foeham, meanwhile, leaned against a wall, his arms folded, his countenance marred with minor injuries from the explosion.

“I’d assumed there’d be instances of cannibalism, that’s hardly shocking.” Weiss’s muttering was soft yet audible enough for the room.

“Not like this, though,” Foeham observed.

“What do you think I am?” Weiss snapped. “Of course not like this!”

“Calm yourself, Weiss,” Foeham replied, his voice betraying no emotion.

Alaina sighed deeply. “We should never underestimate the lengths people will go to when driven to desperation.”

Weiss looked at her, slightly agitated. “You say that as if you’re not surprised. Eating someone who’s already dead is one thing—and horrid on its own—but it pales in comparison to what Carrack witnessed. Why would anyone … ?”

“Live bodies—they don’t decay as swiftly,” Alaina pointed out methodically. “They last longer than the dead. Those people thought it all out. Chains to immobilize them, removed their ability to scream, and systematically harvested non-vital parts.”

Weiss stared, mouth agape. But it was Carrack who found his voice first. “You seem almost … impressed by their methods.”

Alaina shook her head, sighing. “I’ve always been intrigued by the dark corners of human ingenuity. When you’ve seen enough, disgust gives way to a morbid fascination.”

Holding Weiss’s gaze without faltering, Alaina responded, “From existing outside the sanctuary of walls, away from moats, and without the luxury of others’ protection. From genuinely knowing the plight of those who grapple with the world’s cruelties, unlike you.”

“You insolent witch,” Weiss hissed, his face reddening with rage. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

A hint of hurt flashed in Alaina’s eyes, but she remained composed. Carrack could see her biting the inside of her cheek, perhaps trying to prevent an outburst. She was no stranger to Weiss’s disdain, but being branded a “witch” was a step too far, even for him. Carrack remembered an earlier confrontation when Weiss had used the term; he’d had to intervene, sensing Alaina’s urge to use her magic in retaliation. While she had since learned to manage her fury, the unpredictability of a provoked sorcerer was always concerning.

“Desperation plays a dangerous tune, is it any wonder when evil joins the dance? We’ve heard the music playing this long; we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“She’s right,” Foeham said wearily. “Up here, we make grand plans about rations and patrols, but we’re shielded from the real chaos. Even faith, our beacon in the darkness, has crumbled—look at the Weeping Way.”

“So, what’s your grand plan?” Weiss scoffed. “Dump all the food in the square and declare a free-for-all? Or do we place an armed soldier at every doorstep?”

Foeham’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t mistake me for naive, Weiss. As Alaina pointed out, you’ve always been behind walls, comfortably distant from any real threat.”

Weiss’s cheeks reddened. “I traverse this island daily! I won’t be branded a coward by someone barely out of his youth.”

With a dismissive snort, Foeham retorted, “You scuttle to the lighthouse on backroads with an entourage. Maybe we should strip you of those guards, send you right through the heart of town. Then we’ll see how loudly you boast.” Not waiting for a response, Foeham turned to Carrack, urgency in his voice. “Sir, we have to address the horrors from the bathhouse.”

Carrack sat himself up from the bed and attempted to move as if to get up, but he was stopped by the silent gesture of warning from Alaina not to even try it. There was a short pause before he relented and settled back into bed. “What’s for us to do now? It’s but embers and ash. Unless you mean the culprits we know got away?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Not just them,” Foeham insisted, pausing for a breath. “Those two women couldn’t have managed such an elaborate scheme with only one accomplice.” His eyes darted briefly to Alaina. “No offense intended, but the scale of that operation—it would’ve needed more than just the hands of two women, especially ones seemingly past their prime.”

Carrack frowned, rubbing his temple. “And you see, that is where I’m still confused. The voices I heard were certainly them, of that I have no doubt. But those two shuffled out of there so fast, it’s hard for me to believe that it was the same people I met earlier.”

Alaina’s gaze was contemplative. “Maybe they feigned their infirmities. A ruse.”

“We’ve seen plenty of that act in the rationing lines—malingerers trolling for extras,” Foeham remarked.

“But then why risk their operation for just one body?” Carrack mused, a hint of frustration in his voice. “As you noted, Alaina, they had … a supply. Fresh and lasting longer than any corpse.” He winced at his own words, the grim reality settling heavy on his shoulders. “Why the unnecessary gamble?”

Foeham hesitated, his gaze fixed intently on the floor, as though he hoped it might hold the answers. After a drawn-out silence, he finally ventured, “Perhaps it wasn’t theirs.”

“Then whose?” Carrack prompted, breaking the uneasy quiet that had settled over the room.

Taking a deliberate breath, Foeham said, “We can’t rule out the teamsters.”

“I knew it!” Carrack slapped the bed. “I knew you were going to say it.”

“Sir,” Foeham tried to interject, but Carrack’s raised hand silenced him.

“You have been after the teamsters since we got to this island,” Carrack said. “The cause for everything terrible that happens.”

“Yes, sir. I realize I might have been a bit … persistent regarding the teamsters, but you must see—”

Carrack looked ready to interrupt, but Alaina’s voice cut through: “We can’t ignore the possibility.”

Carrack suddenly felt the desire to keep up a defense diminish when he heard Alaina agree with Foeham. He let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Well, let’s consider it …”

“We’re really considering this?” Weiss questioned, darting his eyes between Carrack and Foeham. “So, what’s next?”

“Captain, what do you have in mind?” Carrack inquired.

“First: We find those women. I propose increased patrols, wanted posters, door-to-door searches, even raids of known areas of interest.”

Weiss raised an eyebrow. “Sounds an awful lot like the plan I critiqued earlier.”

“Similar, but different,” Foeham corrected. “I’m not suggesting we indefinitely deploy the garrison throughout the city. I envision a swift, focused operation to uncover these culprits and root out any other pockets of terror.”

Alaina smirked at the audacity, though not entirely dismissive. Weiss was visibly taken aback, while Carrack remained thoughtful, absorbing Foeham’s vision. As Foeham detailed the strategy further—fully deploying the garrison, incentivizing citizens with extra rations for information, and so on—a lively debate erupted. Weiss and Alaina volleyed criticisms and concerns.

Carrack’s voice pierced the heated exchange. “And after that? What’s next?”

“Next?” Foeham parroted, caught off-guard.

“When you began, you said ‘first’, implying there’s a subsequent step. What’s the follow-up?”

“The teamsters,” Foeham admitted. “Part two revolves around them.”

“And if you find concrete evidence, they’re leading this … monstrous operation?” Carrack's eyes narrowed.

“In essence, yes,” Foeham started, but Carrack’s lifted brow prompted him to clarify. “Well, even if they aren’t directly involved, we can’t ignore their growing power in the city. The unchecked authority at the docks, the rumored food stashes—it all needs investigation.”

Carrack rubbed his eyes as his head began to contemplate the suggestion. “You would have us draw the ire of both the people of the city and the teamsters? It’s been a while, but I’m not sure the academies have started advocating the concept of a two-front war.”

“Why do we tread so cautiously around these teamsters? Why are we afraid?” Foeham pressed.

“Afraid?” Carrack echoed with a hint of irony.

“They’re mere thugs,” Foeham persisted. “In a direct confrontation, they’d crumble against us.”

“But that’s just it, Captain!” Carrack exclaimed, cutting Foeham off. “They’re savvy. They wouldn’t brazenly confront us head-on. No, they’d disappear, blending seamlessly into the city, abandoning their caches. They’d squirrel away their valuables, destroy what they couldn’t hide, and feign innocence when caught. They’d play the compliant citizens, grinning at our men, all the while scheming to stab them in the back when least expected. Our forces would suffer casualties, first in dribs and drabs, then in greater numbers, with no decisive battles to show for it. And even if we were to withdraw to the safety of the fort, their vendetta wouldn’t end. At that point, it would be a battle for dominion—and frankly, I wouldn’t bet against them.” Carrack leaned forward, his eyes locked onto Foeham’s. “You are not some green officer, easily swayed by bravado, as Weiss insinuated. You’re astute, knowledgeable, my second-in-command, responsible for everyone here if I die. We require a strategy marked by precision, prudence, and forethought. Now we need calculated, careful planning. And you’re letting your emotions take control and suggest that we go to war with the entire island and get countless people killed!”

The tense silence enveloped the room. Carrack’s eyes were ablaze, his breaths shallow and rapid, while the vein on his forehead seemed ready to burst. Across from him, Foeham’s flushed face bore a testament to his own simmering anger and frustration.

For a heavy moment, nobody spoke. It was Alaina who finally broke the silence, her voice soft but urgent. “Captain Foeham—”

But Foeham cut her off, his voice choked with emotion. “Sir,” he said, his eyes fixed intently on Carrack’s, “I dragged both you and Specialist Hunter out of a literal hellhole. Are we really going to do nothing?”

“We aren’t going to do nothing!” Carrack shot back, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “We’re going with the first part of your plan. We’ll find those bastards, but we won’t touch the teamsters—not until we have irrefutable proof they’re tied to the bathhouse.”

Weiss, eyebrows furrowing, asked with visible concern, “Lord Carrack, you aren’t seriously suggesting we unleash the entire garrison on the city to hunt down a few drug addicts, are you? There’ll be a riot.”

The room’s attention shifted to Carrack, awaiting his decision. He paused, looking away for a moment. The memories of what he’d witnessed replayed in his mind—the cruel, twisted scenes he’d stumbled upon. These scarring images, as vivid as the flames that consumed that horrific room, made his jaw clench. A heat, born of anger, spread from his chest, threatening to overtake his rationality.

Gathering himself, he met Foeham’s eyes, voice filled with a mix of fury and determination. “Find those fuckers.”