Twelve Days Ago
“Come on now, think like you and everyone you love, life depends on it,” Captain Sargasso said as he took a bite of an apple. The fruit noisily crunched as he chewed with his mouth open. He stopped chewing and spit it out. “Rotten,” he blanched. He tossed the apple to the ground before crushing it under his armored heel.
“I told you everything I know,” said the balding orc. He was clutching his bloody wrist and bent low. His hand lay a few feet away from him, courtesy of the Vita Macel. The living metal was currently prowling around the captain’s feet as a shimmering cat.
“Come on wretch, he would have come through the river like a drowned rat about two nights ago.” The captain slammed his helmet visor back into place. The orc and the townspeople gathered all jumped in unison at the sudden noise. Sargasso sneered beneath his helmet. By the gods, he loved rummaging around other people’s kingdoms.
“The man is a dangerous criminal!” the Captain said turning to the crowd. “Now, if any of you may be harboring an annoying blonde secret, now would be an excellent time to give that up.” The crowd looked on at him with wide fearful eyes. They began to turn and chatter, Sargasso was hopeful they were deliberating how best to hand over Drake. However, it became clear the longer time pressed on, that they, in fact, had no idea what he was talking about.
“Like I said, whoever you’re looking for, isn’t here,” the orc pleaded. Sargasso sighed underneath his helmet.
“Very well, I believe you, unfortunately. I’m hopeful though that if he is here, this will draw him out.” The Captain motioned to his men and they moved forward in unison. The crowd began to panic as the men began brandishing torches and lighting them ablaze.
“You see our boy, he has a soft spot for civilians like yourselves-” Sargasso was cut off.
“I thought you said he was a dangerous criminal?” The orc interjected.
“He Is,” the Captain said snapping his fingers and pointing at the orc. The vita macel pounced forward and onto the terrified man. His screams were cut down to gurgles before being reduced to silence. “Any more interruptions? Good. As I was saying, he has a bit of a soft spot for people like you. I’m hoping when my men here set fire to your pathetic little village, he comes to play the hero.”
Sargasso gave the signal. The men marched forward and began to hurl their torches at the wooden homes that lined the streets. The embers quickly transformed into a tenacious blaze as the flames jumped from house to house.
“If he’s not here…well, I would run.” The captain shrugged and admired the beauty of the flame. The best way to find a needle in a haystack is to burn the haystack.
***
Yesterday
The sun was ascending as Sargasso’s knights strode through the forest. Golden rays of yellow sunshine peeked through the greenery above. The captain was deep in thought in his carriage. Even here he wore his armor. Magic wasn’t common, but with Drake on the loose, it seemed wise not to let his guard down for even a moment.
He sighed and tapped the table before him in frustration. It would have been a lovely day to pile bodies high on the battlefield, or the countryside, anywhere really. Epesia was turning out to be far less formidable a threat than the Captain had originally thought. Perhaps the army Drake had slaughtered was the only real force in the area.
Unlucky for the villages the captain had cut his path of destruction through. However, it was a great boon to Sargasso, or it should have been anyway, but Drake was still proving elusive. The Captain didn’t think he had drowned, not yet anyway, not until he had burned down every rinky-dink village that sat near this awful river. Then perhaps he would think that oaf really did just get sucked down to a watery grave.
He looked down at the map, he had been using the ash from each village to mark off the spots he had already checked. Sargasso ran his armored finger over the parchment until it came to the next point not crossed off in black smear, Poppy. He had never heard of the place, but he had never heard of any of these places. It was fairly far from where he had gone in at the bridge. Even still, he might suppose it possible.
“Sir, someone is on the road.” One of the knights called out.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Cut them down and be on with it!” he spat with annoyance.
“Ugh, there is something in the road too,” the knight called back.
Sargasso grunted. Damn these idiots. He stood and departed the back of the carriage. He flung the cloth out of the way and stomped onto the dirt below. He touched the hilt of his sword for comfort. Then grimaced as he stomped off to see what exactly the problem was.
Sargasso’s helmet hid the look of surprise on his face when he saw exactly what was on the road. There was a woman in a dark purple cloak, the hood drawn high, her features mostly hidden. The captain did spot a lock of platinum white hair escaping though.
However, it was her companion that is what gave him pause. Beside her stood a massive stone gargoyle, shaped in the image of what looked to Sargasso like a demon. Cut from some kind of stone, but it moved like it was alive. Its large gray body was cast in shadow from the trees. Even still, Sargasso could make out great horns on the creature, and what looked to be goat hooves and backward knees. The beast prowled behind its mistress, slowly making hulking steps back and forth.
Sargasso swallowed hard in a dry mouth. He wondered if his enchanted blade was sharp enough to cut through that monster. The captain wasn’t overly keen on finding out, at least not without a few advantages secured first. He had found, with enough preparation, that magic could always be bested. He knew firsthand hand the wielder of such power bled like any other. His sword had been stained red by Drake’s blood plenty of times.
Still, he was cautious as he approached the cloaked figure. Until he knew more about what he was dealing with, he didn’t want to do anything too hasty.
“Good morning M’Lady,” he said tipping an imaginary hat to her. The woman in the cloak said nothing. She crossed her arms, revealing a purple hand to the captain. The captain grimaced under his helmet. Purple skin, damn the old one, that meant a drow. Another pointed-ear freak. He hated dealing with these degenerates, Epesia was just loaded with them.
“Speak your business, knight,” she said with scorn.
“Well, you see, we are on the hunt for a dangerous criminal,” the captain lied. “We were on our way to er…Poppy, I think it’s called. We have no quarrel with you, whoever you are.” It bit at the captain to play nice, but the stone giant behind her demanded respect.
“No…you won’t be going to Poppy. That is, my village, as in I own it, so you will not be playing with my things.” She put her hand to her chin and studied the captain. “No banners or colors, you aren’t supposed to be here are you?”
A vein began to throb with rage in the captain’s temple. This drow was smart, annoyingly so.
“You must be their…leader,” he wanted to use so many other words.
“What if I am?”
“Well, then I might have something to say to you about that wanted criminal I mentioned earlier.” He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, his ordinary one, the Vita Macel was in fact in the shape of a falcon circling overhead. Ready to swoop in and slit her throat at a moment's notice.
“You know, I’m not a fool, knight.” She pointed to the metal bird overhead. “Whatever that thing is, it will not save you." Sargasso’s lips puckered. She was bluffing, there was no way that stone behemoth could match his enchanted steel for speed. Could it? He eyed the giant cooly. “It isn’t my friend behind me you should worry about, but the ground at your feet,” she said calmly.
Sargasso looked down and stifled a laugh. Then shook his head. “Going to throw some dirt on my armor are you?” he sneered.
The drow took this opportunity to lower her cowl. Revealing a tight smile, high cheekbones, and piercing pink irises.
“I was thinking…I could just open up the ground beneath your feet and swallow you…boots and all,” she said with an icy smile. An electric current ran down the captain’s spine. She had to be bluffing, had to be…unless she wasn’t. If she could cause a stone to jump to her command, why not the soil on which he stood?
“You’re bluffing,” he growled.
“Maybe…but if I weren’t, all the magic resilient armor in the realm wouldn’t help you. It would just be your nice, shiny, coffin.” She finished the sentence by taking a step forward. Damn her.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said raising his hands defensively, “you win.” The captain turned to leave. “We will find a different village to…search, and how about if you see any blonde morons covered in tattoos you use that magic of yours to let us know? If you do you will be rewarded handsomely.” She took in the words and nodded.
“You should go,” she said finally.
“Be seeing you around…didn’t catch your name.”
“My name doesn’t concern you, if you should ever need it, well…you will not.”
She turned her back on the captain and began to walk back the way she came. It took every ounce of control in Sargasso’s body to not try and sneak attack that cocky freak. He gritted his teeth and began his walk back to the carriage. By the old ones he was going to burn down every miserable village on the river until he reclaimed Drake, or at least his head.