Novels2Search
The Beggar Wars
Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Heral and I were seated at the back, our faces were hidden in the darkness. The only light in the room came from the lantern next to the prisoner’s foot. The foot that still had my dagger in it. Ottom told us to keep the dagger in place once we arrived. He said it may become useful.

“And so how did you find our bailiff’s whereabouts?” Ottom was in the prisoner’s face, giving him no room to breathe. No doubt he could smell the dust gin on Ottom’s breath. The prisoner was doing his best to show no fear. His mouth was tightly shut, and he kept a hard gaze on Ottom, but his eyes gave him away. His eyes told me he was terrified.

“What’s this? Don’t want to talk? Well, I’m sure we can change that.” Ottom bent down and gripped the dagger tightly, wiggling it back and forth. The man screamed so loud that I covered my ears.

“P...Please!”

“Oh, so he does have a voice, how about that!” Ottom got in his face again, “Do you know who I am?”

The prisoner nodded. His eyes squinted and sweat trickled down the sides of his face. He was a fox caught in a trap, not realizing he was already dead.

“Well, go on, say who I am.”

“Y...You’re the traitor.”

WHACK!

Ottom hit him so hard across the cheek, that the chair he was roped to fell to the side and crashed to the floor. The prisoner shrieked.

“YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!” exclaimed Ottom.

The two Mardmen who stood behind him pulled the chair back upright. Ottom sucked in a breath.

“So, you’ve heard about me then? About the things I did before I made a fool of your boss. About how the only one who was more ruthless than me was Jaskal himself.” He leaned in closer, “Can I tell you a secret? The truth is I liked Jaskal, in a lot of ways, me and him, we were similar. We’d both hurt, people. On the drunk god, we could spend hours doing it. It was more than a job for us. It was fun.”

“However, Jaskal lacked a Certain… something. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but if I was to guess parts of it, I’d say that the man is quite visionless. I mean sure, you’d have to be crazy to stand up to him, that gives me shivers just thinking about it. But take now, for example, he sent four local street rats to rob a Hafran the size of an Akerin, for a purse that he could make in a day. It’s darn right ludicrous and it’s come back to bite him, because now.” Ottom wiggled the dagger again. The prisoner let out another gut-wrenching scream.

“HOW DID YOU FIND OUR BAILIFF’S WHEREABOUTS!?”

“A Mardman” the prisoner yelled. “A Mardman has been talking to us.”

“Who?” Ottom asked.

The prisoner shook his head, “I don’t know sir, honest, I’m just a job man, I don’t know nothing, I swear it, I swear-”

Ottom put a finger to the man’s lips “Sh..sh..sh, Hush now little Helm, I believe you. I mean, you’d have to be an imbecile to keep something from me, wouldn’t you?”

The prisoner nodded vigorously.

“That’s what I thought, tell me, what is your name?”

“Br...Brenald sir,” he was quivering now, any defiance he had was rapidly leaving.

“Brenald, A traditional Wannihiem name. I like it.” Ottom stood upright. “Unfortunately for you Brenald, you chose the wrong side to work for and a punishment is in order,”

“Pl...Please, sir, we weren’t going to kill, just hurt em that’s all, we were just to send a message.”

“Well, then you’ll understand that the Mards will have to send a message in return. I am sorry Brenald, honestly.”

Ottom turned to leave the room, he signalled for Heral and me to follow. One of the Mard men closed the door behind us as we left. We made our way down a darkened corridor.

The muffled screams of the Brenald could be heard all along the hall. Only when the screams became a distant noise did Ottom decide to talk.

“It seems we have an informer in our midst,” he said with his arms clasped behind his back, “I am going to have to investigate this, in the meantime, well done to the both of you.”

He eyed us both.

I kept a straight face.

Ottom still left a bad taste in my mouth, and I didn’t like taking a compliment from him. We hadn’t spoken properly since the day he returned my brother to me. I think that Anna had purposely made sure that we didn’t work alongside one another.

“Everything alright Kling?” he asked.

I nodded. The rankings within the Mards meant that I couldn’t speak my mind to him.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Good. I am sure Anna will be proud to hear that her little side project has been successful so far. I even hear your brother is doing well licking Raina’s boots, who knew that klings could be so effective? I sure didn’t. If it were me, I would have cast you out like a dog long ago.”

I was silent. Ottom was goading me to do something stupid, and we both knew it.

“What’s the matter? Not in the mood for talking?” He smiled an ugly smile, “you should be screaming your own praise right now. You’re the first flea-ridden Hillman to do anything of note.”

We heard footsteps approach.

Anna was shrouded by the darkness of the hallway. Her clouded eye was the only thing we could see clearly.

“And here she is to watch over you again,” Ottom said. He looked up at Heral, “As for you, I like the way you work. How long have you been with us now?”

“Since I was fourteen,” Heral said proudly, “Great Auntie Raina took me in from pilgrimage.”

Ottom smiled and nodded, “That’s right, I remember now. Do you fancy a new role? Just say the word and I’ll speak to Marken. Being a bodyguard for me pays quite well.”

Heral gazed at Ottom for a moment and stroked his chin, “I’ll consider it,” he said.

“Make sure that you do. Be seeing you Heral, good job today... and you as well hillman.” He grinned and set off down the corridor.

I clenched my fist, “Bastard.” I said under my breath.

“You rise too easy young Jeb. He’ll only do it more if he sees it’ll hurt you,” Heral said.

“And how would you like it if he insulted you like he just did me?”

The big man smirked, “He’s smarter than that.”

“Heral’s right.” chimed Anna, “you’d be wise to wipe that look off your face around him. It only gives him a reason to fan the flame.” She looked at us both with a still face. Her clouded, grey eye seemed the more focused of the two.

“I’ve heard what you’ve done. The both of you. Impressive. Heral, I’ll bid you a good day. Jeb, I’ll have you follow me.”

“No problem boss lady,” The big man set and sauntered down the hallway, humming an idle tune.

Anna turned to me, “the prisoner. Did he talk?”

“Almost instantly,” I said, “the moment Ottom put the pressure on him, the prisoner let loose his words faster than I can run.”

“And what did he say?”

“Something about an informant. He said that that's how he was able to ambush us.”

“Interesting…” The word became distant as if she was lost in thought.

“You know something?” I asked.

“Only rumours. Still, the attack doesn’t make sense. Jaskal would have been better striking in Mard territory north of Ra. We’ve flooded the Brigands’ Dock with more men than is necessary. Even if you and Heral hadn't been able to handle it. They wouldn’t have made it out of the area without getting caught by someone else. It was a suicide mission.”

“The prisoner said they were there to send a message,” I added.

She shook her head, “No if you wanted to send a message, you send a professional, someone you know who can do the job right. Not some run-down street rats with more bone than muscle... There’s more to this. Jaskal isn’t the type to botch a job.”

“Ottom seemed to think he is. According to what he said to the prisoner at least.”

“Ottom doesn’t know him as well as he thinks he does.”

“So, what is it then?” I asked.

“I’m not sure yet, I’m going to check our books, see what pushers we have on the lists and look for anomalies, something doesn’t add up.”

A pusher was another name for a beggar. And beggars were the main source of income for the Mards. For all the groups that is. When Anna told me this after my initiation, I was shocked.

“Here’s a lesson that is a little overdue Jeb,” she had said, “This is Wannihiem, it’s the biggest city on the continent. It’s a city so big, that the surrounding kingdoms have no authority over it. It is its own ruler and because of this, things are different here. Firstly, and mainly, no other kingdom is allowed to war with each other inside the city and that’s a rule that’s kept to absolute strictness. Rulers will kill one another in their own lands, but here they will embrace one another in love. More peace treaties have been signed in Wannihiem than anywhere else.”

“The Ra, the Alora, and the Ghid rivers run through the city and so does the trade they bring with them. Which means it also attracts the wealthy. So, by default, the city has a constant flow of monarchs, diplomats, aristocrats, merchants, scholars, soldiers, priests and priestesses and every other type of person you can think of. They all run through Wannihiem. They say that all roads lead to Wannihiem Jeb and although it isn’t strictly true, it may as well be. Everyone in the city has a business of some sort. You even have Bervians on the upper east Alora that specialize in making those papers that your people so dearly favour. What are they called again?”

“Kwawan papers.” I had said.

“That’s the one. Anyway, our collective group's main source of income is in the begging business Jeb. You see we have incentivized every fortune teller, shaman, Rumor spreader and magic person for miles to spread the word that Wannihiem rewards the generous. That if you give a coin to the downtrodden on your eventual stop off in the city, you’ll see good fortune for the rest of the journey. It’s an incredibly simple and an incredibly lucrative ruse.”

“The people give the coin to the beggars; the beggars give the coin to us and then we use that coin to gain political and social influence in the city. That’s not to say It is all we do of course. We have several different businesses, but begging is essentially our profession, and it has served us and those before us for quite some time.

“But what about the beggars themselves? I hear you asking. Why are they happy to give us the money they’ve earned? Well, what makes you think they have a choice? It's called taxing and every beggar on every corner of our territory has to pay. Now don’t get me wrong, one could argue that the taxes are a little high, and I would be inclined to agree. However, the people who do our bidding on the streets are given everything they want.”

“Which is?” I Asked.

“Drink, mainly. Sometimes some other narcotics like dust gin or ring grass. Whatever it is you desire, we’ll facilitate, we’ll even put a roof over your head come nighttime and look after any relative that needs us whilst you’re in our employment. It’s not the worst of deals and we rarely get complaints.”

“Do you have a problem with any of that?” She had asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Good, the city is grand but it’s also ugly Jeb. If you ever feel like you’re going against your conscience. Just remember that If we didn’t do what we do, someone else would.”

I remember Anna explaining this to me like it only just happened. It took a few days for me to accept that most, if not all of the people the rags I had seen were affiliated to a group in one aspect or another.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked As we walked down the hallway.

She shook her head, “you’ve done enough.”

She had led me to my quarters without me realising and had a proud look on her face for doing so.

I smirked at her and opened the door. Caine was at his desk, doing his daily scribes for Raina. Anna didn’t bother entering, instead, she nodded and said, “You did well today Jeb. It couldn’t have been easy taking on four Helm men, even with Heral there to help out. You’ve impressed the right people and something big has come up that they want you to help out with. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day for you. Get some sleep.”

Anna walked down the hallway. I closed the door behind her and turned to Caine who had an eyebrow raised.

“And how was your day?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” I said.