image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/c7a0775f-1ea5-4368-a43f-6da7abc9e33b/0_0.png]image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/04a47dd6-c238-4dfc-8229-32fc3fb180ce/0_3.png]
One barrel of gold weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds. Even before gaining an enhanced physique, Vincent could easily pull up his weight in one hand, a hundred and sixty. Now, he was sure he could lift the double. Nevertheless, the gold’s weight was still too much to carry by hand. Using a cart was the obvious solution.
Thomas borrowed them a dolly, and after covering the barrels with pelts, Vincent pulled the cart to the camp himself in lieu of his morning exercise. The exchange went smoothly. An hour later, the horde started to move toward the town of Plzeň—named the same in that world—instead of Vienna, cutting short their raid.
The official story for the Guild and Krivoburg was that Vincent had negotiated a deal, offering his Guild's services and precious furs looted from monsters in exchange for protection and the return of the tribute.
The Mayor was ecstatic. Keeping the tribute allowed the town to invest in development projects. Vincent was happy, too. They now had a reserve north of twenty thousand gold coins, about six million US dollars in their money. Various hideouts were discussed until they agreed to bury most of the gold in the tiger's den, with a bribe of food promised on a daily basis if the beast guarded their treasure.
The rest of the morning was spent following the drone. Vincent tried to attune to more locations, searching for landmarks upon which to get his bearings. The drone's range, albeit slightly increased, was still limited to about thirty miles and two hours of autonomy. That didn't offer many attuning options, but Vincent got important information about his skill instead. Once a location was acquired, he could feel it in his brain, on a list, like a database he could call upon at will.
Plzeň was added, and he almost got Karlovy Vary but had to settle for a nearby village due to the drone's restrictions. When the flyer had to return for another change of batteries and lunch approached, he retired to his room to think about his stats.
He was level thirty-four and had four Tokens to spend, but he left them for later. Most of the skills he had used during the heist and castle trip were up a notch, but what he was interested in was another thing.
There was not the slightest doubt about his latest gains in Karmic Charges. He had found twenty-two objects, the same number. The reward for stealing south to forty million in gold from an evil warlord, putting his life on the line, had been one. That meant the objects were more relevant… maybe artifacts? A topic to be explored.
He was almost even in Karmic Charges after a very hard night. Not as hard as the one with the kidnapping, but still tough. Vincent closed his eyes, trying to grasp the new reality that almost felt like a dream. In only one week, he had experienced more challenges than in his whole previous life altogether… It felt like a year had passed, not days. To chase his worries away, he checked the short version of his menu for a second.
Name: Vincent Valaška Age: 28
Level: 34 (4 tokens available).
Body 36 (+4) / Mind 20 (+4) / Spirit 33 (+4).
Karmic Charges: 186/200
Dismissing the screen, Vincent descended to the dining room. He froze in the doorframe as he opened the door, pushed back by a wave of raucous ruckus. Full was not even beginning to describe the place. People sat everywhere, even on the floor. The food brought by the inn's personnel disappeared in seconds.
"What's going on?" he yelled at Irene, who sat near a wall and ate a sandwich. Without shouting, there was no way to be heard.
"It's the Khan's elite forces, the ones he left behind," she yelled back. "Mercenaries. The Bogomil Amazons," Irene insisted on the last word. "A hundred of them."
What the fuck! Vincent said to himself.
The newcomers were indeed all female. Tall and strong, with lean, well-defined muscles, good-looking, none appearing over thirty, but more on the Mad Max side than ancient Greece.
"That's the guild master," a voice said. It was the Shaman. Somehow, she spoke with a low voice but managed to get through all the brouhaha. The woman beside her beckoned Vincent, and he started to advance, zig-zagging between waitpersons carrying food, rowdy warrioresses, and overwhelmed nerds squeezing themselves all over, even under the tables, to be able to eat.
On the way, he scrutinized the one who wanted to talk with him. Red hair touched her shoulders on one side but was shaven on the right side of her head, displaying an ear adorned with a long, thin silver earring. Fierce eyes. A frown that was not menacing but showed she was always on the alert. A leather bra as only upper armor, a tattoed left arm. A bandolier with either huge and thick bullets or small grenades completed the view. She was hot, in a dangerous way.
"Vincent Valaška," he offered a handshake.
"Raya Wildheart," she squeezed his fingers in a vice-like grip. "Stormrunner, Elite, level eighty. I'm the gals' commander.""
From that introduction, Vincent deduced that inspecting someone without their consent was bad manners; otherwise, it would have served nothing to state one's class when everyone could see it. He sat across the table, waiting for the woman to speak on.
The Shaman waved her fingers over the table, and the room's noises diminished. "Dome of silence," she explained to Vincent. "Go on, Raya."
"We have a problem with the old geezer," the woman started.
"The mayor," the Shaman explained.
"He's prejudiced against our culture. On a normal day, we'd just send him to greener pastures, but we are bound by oath."
"They were hired by the Mongols for a year, six months still left," the Shaman said. "Mongols are strict on rules. As long a town pays tribute, no harm will come to it."
"But the old-timer did have a good suggestion. Restrict your wicked ways to the guild, he said. I want no racket in town. End quote. Which gave me an idea," she smirked. "What if I and my gals join your guild instead of being hired guns?" Raya said with emphasis, her eyes shining with an 'I'm offering the deal of your life' meaning. "We like this town; it's close to everything yet not too close. The river is a good natural defense. It would make a good base."
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Vincent decided to be blunt. "And what would stop you from taking it over? You'll have the majority."
"I'm a good-hearted person?" Raya grinned.
"We'll have to expand the guild at some point, and guild members have tiers too," Irene said. "Only the senior members vote." Vincent didn't notice when she arrived next to them, but it didn't matter. She had a point. If they were to make it on the Realm, they had to expand, and good warriors meant increased safety. He was sure there was more to those women than their good looks.
"How much are you paid now?" he asked.
"Ten gold a month," Raya stated. "And we're worth every penny of it."
I suppose that's a lot of money around here… A hundred and twenty per year, multiplied by a hundred… twelve thousand… The tribute of twelve small towns…
He exchanged a few whispers with Irene, then nodded toward the mercenary. "OK. You and your gals will become junior members for now, with an evaluation period of two years. You'll be my third in command. Starting at the end of your contract, we have to figure out a monthly wage, but it will not be ten gold. We're tight with money and need a lot of things—"
"We'll work bounties, don't worry," Raya shrugged. "I heard you have… enchanters," she lowered her voice. "Get us good gear, and there's no need to pay us anything."
"I say we take the deal," Irene whispered in Vincent's ear.
A series of handshakes followed, with Vincent and Irene exchanging one by reflex. The Dome of Silence ceased, and the noise rose up.
"We're in, gals!" Raya shouted. "Tonight, we party!"
"Hooray!" a chorus replied.
"If you don't mind, I have businesses to attend," Vincent excused himself. He snatched a sandwich from a plate, eating it on his way to the drone station, which was now in the attic of the police quarters. The space was a bit dusty but uncluttered, and the single tiny dormer window offered light while protecting them from potential spies.
----------------------------------------
Looking at a drone camera, either on the wider screen of a laptop or a VR visor, was extremely boring and exhausting. When evening came, Vincent returned to the inn, determined to sleep early. He hadn’t considered the party, imagining the Amazons would go outside, in the park or the fields, for a barbecue, but instead, all was arranged inside.
To their credit, the 'gals' had rearranged the dining room, taking out the tables and chairs and putting poufs instead. Snacks came on plates, and drinks were served in the kitchen. The place was still crowded but manageable.
Vincent noticed the young scientists were keen to show the new recruits how well they could entertain. There was a karaoke space, board or card games—played directly on the floor—and hookahs. Where the brainiacs got those was a mystery, but it was their doing, as they explained the device to the Amazons, not vice versa.
On the other hand, the Bogomil mercenaries brought fantastic liquor: apple brandy, plum brandy, ouzo, raki, and grappa, all much stronger than the normal versions but also tastier. As snacks don't tame strong liquor well, Vincent began to feel dizzy and dizzier as the night progressed.
Eventually, a karaoke competition was announced to start in five minutes. Before Vincent noticed, Raya had appeared at his table.
“I challenge you to a singing duel!” she roared. Vincent jerked back, his head hitting the chair. She sounded like: ‘I’ll pull your beating heart out of you and eat it!’ “Anyone else dares to challenge the Guild Master?” the woman looked around, with a clear: ‘Do it and I’ll beat you to an inch of your life!’ in her eyes.
Geez, I guess she’s really passionate about singing…
“OK, I’ll do it,” Vincent accepted. He wasn’t a great singer, but soldiers do many things for fun in their free time, and karaoke wasn’t a stranger to him.
“Then let’s see what you are made of,” Raya frowned at him.
“I’ll go first,” Vincent waved his hand at Jong, who was behind the improvised karaoke machine. “Do you have Somebody Like You, the Adele song?”
“I have everything you wish for and more, man,” Jong said. “I have two SSDs hard drives full of karaoke stuff, my personal collection.”
“Then hit it,” Vincent said, aiming his eyes at the words projected on the wall behind. That song was the equivalent of a nuclear strike in Vincent’s repertoire. Not too easy or hard, but with plenty of opportunity to make his baritone voice shine. And soppy enough to make girls cry… The jury was made of Irene, Brandi, the dancer who stayed behind, and two Amazons.
He looked into his challenger’s eyes all the song to convey: ‘You don’t have a chance!’
“Not bad,” Raya nodded, discreetly wiping a tear out of the corner of her right eye. “It’s the smoke,” she frowned like she was ashamed to have been touched by the music. The Amazon went behind Jong, looking at his playlist. “That’s it!” she erupted, touching the screen. “I know it by heart.”
The melody started immediately with a lusty and luxurious orchestra accompaniment. The words were French, but the meaning was translated into the Common Tongue.
“Love is a rebel bird… If I love you, beware!” Raya bellowed. Her singing was a bit out of tune, but the enthusiasm she screamed the words gave the impression that she was a better performer than she was.
The fuck? She’s singing opera? How?
FAQ: What is Cross Culture?
Answer: In the last two centuries, many Summoned have brought new technologies and databases to the Stellarterra. Books, dictionaries, recordings, and musical scores from Earth are now a part of the local culture. The Celtic upper classes all speak French as a sign of distinction.
Raya finished the aria, and a row of applauses covered her finale, the jury raising on her feet. There was no doubt who the winner was.
“I, Raya, have won!” the woman shouted over the crowd. The Amazons cheered.
Never mind… I don’t care about silly contests anyway, Vincent sulked, convinced she did it to humiliate him. He let himself fall on a pouf, and to his surprise, Raya arrived next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and speaking in his ear. Her hot and ticklish breath spread all over his face, accompanied by a scent of alcohol. "Quiz. What's the type of food you like most? Sweet, sour, spicy, or bitter?"
"I like spicy food, but sweets too, of course," he confessed. “Like every other good Czech… or Spaniard… Why?”
"Perfect choice. You can finish this," Raya shoved her glass in his hand and got up abruptly.
She's weird… but goodness… that ass is a killer! Vincent drank the rest of the plum brandy, holding the glass obliquely to keep his eyes on the swinging assets, going away with a bouncy gait.
He stared around for another half an hour, enjoying the happy vibe in the room. Bee and Irene were shouting at each other near a board game for reasons Vincent didn’t care about but liked the funny expression her puckering lips made. Jong and Brandi were involved in arm-wrestling matches against the Amazons, with Jong faring better. Thomas was exiting, wobbling on his feet and pulled by the ear by his wife, two heads shorter than him.
Finally, tiredness caught up with him, and he went to his room. At first, he thought he had got the wrong door, but then he recognized his personal things lying around.
The only light was the one outside, coming through the pulled curtains. Lukas was nowhere. Sitting on the now joined beds, Raya was making up with the young dancer who had opted to stay. Both were in their underwear, each a marvel. One statuesque and muscular, the other gracious and fit. Vincent's heart skipped a bit. His hand stretched back to push the door handle and leave, but slowly. Very slowly. For a second, he lied to himself because he didn't want to be noticed and startle them, but the truth was he was mesmerized.
Then, the Amazon turned her head toward him. "Finally," she raised and approached him in two strides. "You sure took your time…" she leaned forward, biting his lower lip. As they kissed, she started to unbutton his shirt. The young woman joined them, her thin, long fingers trembling as he caressed Vincent's neck.
"I had trouble finding the perfect sweet to match my spiciness," Raya whispered in Vincent's ear, biting his lobe. "The cat-girl was nice too, but she ran away when I asked her…"
Oh, my God! She asked Irene to join in a threesome? Vincent swallowed a lump.
FAQ: What are the sexual practices of the Bogomil Amazons?
Answer: The Bogomil Amazons are well known for their relaxed morals. While on military campaigns, they often engage in casual sex but never with their employers. A common practice is to provoke the party they’re interested in in a contest. If they win, the loser is bound to satisfy their sexual desires, and if they lose, they are supposed to satisfy the winner.
Eh, I call it a win-win strategy… So, casual sex night it is… As long there’s no relationship involved, that’s fine with me, Vincent thought.
Then Raya pulled him toward the bed, and even thoughts were chased away my the maelstrom of passion.