It was early afternoon of the next day when the caravan arrived at Sweet Water. A small contingent of dinosaur riding guardsmen rode out to meet the convoy as they approached. Inexplicably, Dalthan wasn’t invited to participate in the discussion that took place between the merchants and the city guard. The thief blamed the oversight on a long, restless night and the accumulated stress of an even longer trip. Bearing that in mind, Dal graciously chose to overlook being snubbed from a meeting that he obviously should have been attending.
“I suppose I can forgive them for forgetting about our arrival since we only just joined the caravan.” Dal confided in Keysha while the archer peered down the road from her perch upon the wheel of a stalled wagon.
The [Sharpshooter] looked down with a pinched expression of utter confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The meeting.” Dalthan made a dismissive wave toward the front of the column. “I think that we should be there. Or, at least, I should be there as our leader and chosen representative.”
Key’s gray eyes gave a slow, incredulous blink. “Nobody chose you for shit, Dalthan. I thought we already went over that.” The nimble woman stepped off the wagon wheel to land gracefully at the thief’s side. “Whatever they had to say, they must have said it quickly. The front of the convoy is already moving. I’d guess we’ve got a half hour, maybe, before we’re inside the walls.”
“Which means,” Zaplixel said, holding a ring toward the noonday sun so he could examine the way the light played through its clear gemstone. “We need to figure out how we’re going to manage our room and board.” The [Swindler] pocketed the ring and withdrew a necklace that he inspected in much the same way. In a high, nasally tone, the older wizard continued. “In case you all need me to spell out the problem, we have not a single red cent of local currency. So, we’re going to have to find a way to pay for whatever amenities this town has to offer.”
“I’m not worried about having to pay for anything,” Sylvia said airily. The nymph had enjoyed feeling the men and women of the convoy steal looks her way like greedy children reaching into an unguarded cookie jar. “I’m sure the rest of you can take care of yourselves.”
Keysha scoffed. “You’re here to work, not to shake your fat ass at anyone with a pulse. We can’t afford to split up in a place like this. Either we’re all staying under the same roof or we’re all camping outside the walls for the next two days.”
Zap turned toward the archer with a scowl, but before he could speak an angry [Druid] snapped. “My ass is not fat.”
Dalthan licked his parched lips with a slash of his pink tongue. “It really isn’t.” The words had scarcely been spoken when he suddenly lurched to the side after Keysha viciously struck his shoulder. “Ow! What the fuck!”
“Not. Helpful.” Keysha growled, utterly unapologetic as the thief rubbed at his injured shoulder. “If you want to be a fucking leader, lead us to an inn that we can afford.”
Dalthan’s lips were forming a biting reply when a stone arm suddenly thrust itself between the bickering party members. Both of them shot Shale a blisteringly impatient look for being interrupted. The [Stone Golem], implacable as always, simply continued to point toward the front of the caravan with his rough-hewn arm.
Reluctantly, the crew of evildoers tabled their discussion when they saw who was advancing toward them. Kelko, the mercenary captain, rode down the line of wagons at an unhurried trot. The man waved merrily to the various teamsters as he passed, but the strange dinosaur he rode kept its yellow eyes fixed on Dalthan and the rest of his team.
Slightly unnerved, Dalthan glanced toward his shadow, half afraid that Vex would pick this very moment to evict Baki from his home amidst the darkness. The blue slaad had expressed significant misgivings with sharing its ‘darkness’ with the unworthy lizard. To the point that Dal had been forced to bargain with the abomination. It’d taken Dal promising to help find the murder frog a pet to convince Vex to grudgingly accept a temporary tenant.
Dal had no idea what that particular promise would cost him when all was said and done.
“Hello!” The mercenary called out as he approached. “I was hoping to have a word with you all before we entered Sweet Water.”
His mount drew closer, edging into their loose formation like a curious dog trying to sniff an unfamiliar guest. Except that this curious dog had teeth as long as Dalthan’s fingers. The human party members, in a show of solidarity, took a slow step back from the sniffing dinosaur. Sylvia, proving that she was a few apples short of a bushel, stepped toward the beast and affectionately patted its long snout.
“What can we do for you, Captain Kleko?” Dalthan was unsure of the most appropriate way to address the warrior. He’d heard several of the mercenaries referring to the man by rank so he guessed that it wouldn’t be considered an insult to do the same. He would have spent a moment longer weighing his options if Sylvia hadn’t been chatting with the dinosaur with her hand perilously close to its curved teeth.
“You’re such a handsome boy, aren’t you?” The druid murmured as she lightly scratched the creature’s brown scales. Dal watched in horrified fascination as the dinosaur’s jaws opened and a long, thick tongue, dripping with glistening saliva, lazily explored the bare flesh exposed by the cut of the nymph’s armor. Mesmerized and disgusted in equal measure, the thief couldn’t drag his gaze away from the disturbingly erotic sight.
Then Keysha stomped on his foot.
Dal clenched his jaw and swallowed a hiss of pain before it could slip past his lips. The momentary struggle was enough to tear his gaze away from Sylvia and direct his attention back to the mercenary captain. He found the other man regarding him with a note of concern shining in the depths of his clear blue eyes.
“You’re looking a bit peaky, my friend.” Oblivious to the scandalous display taking place beneath his nose, Kleko leaned further over the dinosaur’s neck to get a closer look at Dalthan. “You should be careful of the desert sun. I’ve known some strong men who were laid low by the heat of the Searing Sands.”
Keysha spoke up, directing a strained smile toward the worried mercenary. “No one has ever mistaken Dalthan for a strong man so we’ll be sure to take extra precautions.”
Off to the side, Zaplixel made a choked sound.
“I’m sure that I’ll be fine,” Dalthan said, inwardly lamenting that he’d only get to murder Zap once. “Like everyone else in the convoy, a day's rest and a good meal in my belly, and I’ll be right as rain. But you didn’t ride back here to check on my health, Captain.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Kleko nodded companionably as he leaned back in his saddle. “When we first met, you asked if we were interested in hiring additional guards. At the time I was in command of a full complement of soldiers and skeptical of your group’s ability to add anything to our combat ability.”
The mercenary’s eyes drifted away from the [Rogue] toward one of the wagons that’d begun rolling through the gates of Sweet Water. Dal recognized it as the wagon they’d loaded with the bodies of the deceased. Still staring at the distant wagon, the captain’s voice grew hard as the red rock that covered this barren land. “Now, neither of those things are true. I’ve no reason to be skeptical of your skill, or your bravery. I’ve also got a powerful need to fill the gaps left by the men who will find their final rest beside Sweet Water’s oasis.”
“You flatter us, captain.” Dalthan’s voice was almost timid as he looked down toward the dusty road as if overcome with embarrassment.
“Nothing of the sort, young man.” Kleko barked, seemingly offended by Dal’s modesty. “It isn’t often that you find good people in the Sands. When you do, you need to keep them close. I’d be proud to call you comrades if you’d join us when we leave Sweet Water in two days.”
“I don’t know,” Dal hedged, looking furtively to each of his companions. They all remained silent, though some hid their surprise more effectively than others. Keysha was almost as stonefaced as Shale, but Zap was watching the [Rogue] as if Dalthan had been replaced by a devilishly handsome shapeshifter. “I would hate for my friends and I to get in the way. We’re not military personnel. Besides, we’ve precious little funds to work with. We’d planned on doing some jobs around the two to fund the rest of our journey. I’m afraid that it’s just not feasible for us to leave in two days.”
Kleko crossed his arms against his chest and stared down at the dark-haired thief with a critical eye. For a split second, Dal feared he’d overplayed his hand. Then, when the grizzled veteran finally spoke, it was all Dalthan could do to keep from grinning.
“I’ll pay your team four hundred gold doubloons to join our guard contingent. Half up front and half when we reach the other side of the Quartz Valley.” Dalthan started to speak only to be cut off by Kleko lifting a hand to forestall his response. “I know that things are expensive in a border town. Especially one like Sweet Water. If you need further funds for the trip, I’ll let you borrow against your payment at the end of the trip.”
Dal’s brow furrowed in an expression of agonizing consideration as his green eyes flickered from one member of his party to the next. A pregnant silent stretched out between them, forming a chasm that grew wider with every passing heartbeat. Still Dalthan waited to reply. Waited until Kleko gave the slightest fidget with the dinosaur’s reins.
Then the thief looked up and offered him a warm, guileless smile along with a firm tip of his wide-brimmed hat. “You have yourself a deal, Captain Kleko. My team and I have been anxious to put in some hard work and do some good. I think, together, we can cross the Quartz Valley and, who knows, maybe we can even end this war!”
“That’s the spirit, lad!” Kleko said, throwing his head back with a relieved laugh. “I’m proud to call you all comrades. There are two taverns in town. My folks will be at the Shaded Palm. Find the quartermaster there and he’ll get your funds sorted. Hopefully there will still be some rooms for you there. If not, you can try your luck at the Crystal Goblet. Just remember, we head out at first light two days from now. Don’t make you track you down!”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, captain.” Dalthan called out as Kelko carefully nudged his mounts away from Sylvia. The [Rogue]’s entire team waved politely to the departing captain who responded with a polite nod before turning his back on the band of evildoers.
“How do you sleep with yourself at night?” Keysha asked out of the corner of her mouth while she watched the captain ride toward the front of the caravan.
In a rare moment of complete honesty, Dalthan answered her in a voice that rang with sincerity.
“I sleep far, far better now than I did when I was poor.”
*****
The dusty streets that crisscrossed Sweet Water like the crooked crocheting of a blind grandmother were eerily silent as Dalthan and his companions made their way through the town. Squat, ugly buildings made of weathered stone were crammed together like drunk pirates fighting over the last seat on a life raft. There was something nostalgic about seeing the same sort of practical architecture that’d been a mainstay in the poorer districts of Wavecrest. Those homes had been wood instead of stone, but they’d shared the same sort of silent desperation that seemed to cling to these buildings the way a bloodstain clung to a favorite shirt.
“I can’t believe that bleeding heart mercenary fell for your bullshit.” Zaplixel was bouncing a freshly claimed coin purse in his hand as if he expected it to vanish at any moment. “How does someone that naive end up in charge of a mercenary company?”
“Quiet,” Keysha growled, snapping at the [Swindler] without breaking stride. “Let’s try not to insult anyone where everybody in the fucking town could hear you.”
Zaplixel scoffed, his nasally voice offering a sharp reply while he tied his new pouch to the belt of his robe. “Who’s out here to hear us, Key? Relax. They’re all at the tavern we just left drinking to their fallen heroes. That’s why we’re going to the other place, remember?”
The archer turned toward the wizard, giving the bald man a withering stare. “Maybe he isn’t naive. Maybe he hasn’t been exposed to duplicitous dicks like Dalthan.”
“Ouch, Keysha. Tell me how you really feel.” Dal grumped, though, in this one instance, he was inclined to agree with the barbarian princess. He didn’t like how empty the dusty roads were. He felt exposed in a way that he’d never experienced before.
“If we’re leaving in two days, she probably doesn’t have enough time for that.” Sylvia chimed in with a giggle. The nymph had been in a remarkably good mood since no less than seven of the convoy’s personnel had invited her back to the Shaded Palm for dinner later tonight.
“I haven’t done anything to you,” Dalthan said, offering the beautiful [Druid] a wounded expression as he turned toward her.
Sylvia arched a brow and replied with a voice that tickled his ear like a spring breeze. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
“There’s the tavern.” Unlike Sylvia’s dulcet tones, Keysha’s held the sharp flash of salt pouring into an open wound.
At the [Sharpshooter]’s words, Dal reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Sylvia’s smirk. Casting his green eyes down the winding lane, it was easy enough to make out a pair of swinging saloon doors beneath a crude wooden sign. Burnt into the rotting oak was an upside-down triangle with a line extending from its lowest corner. The image might have been a child’s rendition of a goblet. If you squinted.
Assessing the man who sat in a rocking chair beside the door required no imagination at all. The thief frowned as he stared at a middle-aged man with dark hair and a carefully groomed beard. The man idly wasting his time outside the rundown tavern wore black boots and breeches along with a black shirt trimmed in gold. If ol’Sloefoot had seen the fool, he’d have rolled over in his grave. Dalthan would have taken it as a personal point of pride to flog anyone in Low Town that dressed in such a cliche outfit that positively screamed criminal. Real crooks didn’t advertise their vocation like that.
With a snort, Dalthan idly tried to identify the man. He knew it wouldn’t work because the skill only responded to those who lived in the Hub. The real evildoers. Not this poser.
[Demon Mastermind]
“Huh,” Dalthan said, blinking as he read the words that were now hovering over the stranger’s head.
“I was not expecting that.”