Roytmay sent out a runner not even ten minutes after he entered the building. It was the same man with the mark of ire from before, so I found it fairly unlikely he would be meeting a Rehvite. Still, I estimated that there was at least a fifty-fifty chance of Roytmay betraying us, so tensions were high as I watched the street traffic. Did he really not signal anyone outside the building? I wondered as I watched the dealers nearby. None of them acted like they had been alerted, and most didn’t even notice me.
Forty-five minutes later, the runner came back alone and entered the building. I heard a bit of shouting coming from Roytmay’s office, then the runner came out of the stairwell and requested that Vaozey and I enter the building to retrieve our things. As we changed back into our regular gear, I couldn’t help but wonder how Roytmay was planning to betray us. He watched the whole time with a hard expression but didn’t say anything until we were done.
“You want to know how I’m about to stab you in the back, don’t you?” he asked.
“I want to know if you’re stupid enough to,” I replied. “As I said, you’re coming as a hostage. You can double as a guide.”
“Boss,” the mark of ire man muttered, moving as though he could do something to stop me.
“No, it’s fine,” Roytmay assured him, gesturing for him to stay back.
“Additionally, Awveyray extorted seventy-two ngoywngeyt from me,” I continued. “I would like them returned.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Roytmay countered.
“It’s payment to ensure you aren’t harmed,” I replied.
“Then you’ll get it when I leave unharmed,” Roytmay said. “The sun is down and the city guards have mostly gone back inside, let’s go before something changes.”
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All of us applied more repellent before leaving, and the smell of it once again set off a headache behind my eyes. Not that I needed an excuse, but the pain certainly made it easier for me to entertain the idea of killing Roytmay the instant he stepped out of line. As we walked across town, I kept my hand on his back near his left shoulder blade, prepared to start cooking his heart the instant that I saw anything out of the ordinary. Roytmay knew what I was doing, of course, and I suspected he had some way to escape if he needed to.
Four times, as we walked, I saw people that I suspected were positioned to intercept us. All four times, those people walked past without issue. After around twenty minutes of walking we ended up in the northern half of the city, just a few meters eastward off the center line, and Roytmay pointed out an unmarked building for us to enter. Vaozey, who had been taking point the entire time, entered the building first on my order, and I walked in a few seconds later once she confirmed that it didn’t appear to be a setup.
“Ya really got yerself inta sum trouble this time didn’t ya Roytmay?” a woman cackled as I led Roytmay inside. Nobody else looked to be in the room, and the building only had three stories, so any movement above us would have been audible through the wooden flooring. The woman in question had a strange style of small braids in her hair and wore a dress, the latter of which marked her as being somewhat wealthy. No furniture either, I thought, very strange.
“As you can see, your passengers are going to be antsy,” Roytmay replied. “You got the carts ready?”
“It’s been an hour,” the woman snorted. “Gimme another two or three and I’ll have ‘em in order. If yeh’d asked me durin’ the day I’d have had ‘em done before ya got here.”
“Introduce us,” I said, heating Roytmay’s skin threateningly. The man shivered paradoxically, then cleared his throat.
“Zaadey, this is Yuwniht and the woman over there is Vaozey,” he began. “You two, this Zaadey, she’s the woman who deals with my imports and exports, at least the ones that can go through the city gates.”
“I’m his cousin,” Zaadey added, “so I’d appreciate ya not killin’ him right here. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”
“I’ll think about it if can get out of here,” I replied.
“He’s the, uh, jhaoyeyl,” Roytmay added. “The real one.”
“Hah, so that’s it,” Zaadey laughed. “You stepped on his jhoyt thinkin’ he was jus’ playin’ with you an’ nearly got yours clipped off. Arright you two, no need for all this tension. I hear yer goin’ta Muhryehv, right?” I wasn’t actually sure what city was next on my route, so I let Vaozey reply.
“That’s right,” she said, not releasing her hold on her mace. “I don’t like that grin you’re wearing, ngoyth, why are you so happy about all this?”
“You two okay with doin’ a bit’o work on yer journey?” Zaadey asked, grinning even wider.
“We can guard if required,” I said. “However, considering that our last caravan ejected us at the halfway point, I would need your assurances that something similar won’t happen again.”
“Well I ain’t goin’ with ya so…” Zaadey offered.
“We’ll seytoydh kill every person in the caravan if someone tries it,” Vaozey threatened. “I don’t give a paamzmihv about the consequences, I am not hiking through days of woodland again unless everyone who was supposed to be transporting me is dead. So, make sure we get there the right way.”
“Arright arright I ge’cha,” Zaadey said in a placating tone, gesturing for Vaozey to calm down. “I’ll just make ya indispensable, ya know? Ain’t no way they’ll chuck ya if yer carryin’ the goods, right? You two just gotta be daofz for me-”
“You can go se-” Vaozey started, taking two steps towards Zaadey and pulling her mace out before I could speak.
“Stop,” I commanded, and everyone froze. “What are daofz?” The word itself was almost the same as the Uwrish word for a weapon’s sheath, but it was obviously being used as a euphemism. Again, Zaadey smiled, showing rows of jagged teeth.
“It’s jus’ a li’l-” she started, spreading her hands apart and trying to approach me.
“Explain simply or he dies,” I said, pausing her in her tracks.
“She wants to cut our bellies open and stuff us with drugs or poison so she can smuggle them over the Yuwkiciyah border,” Vaozey interjected. Oh, I thought, is that it? While I hadn’t heard of humans doing it, I was intimately familiar with the technique, having been made to use it many times during missions. Zaadey didn’t try to correct Vaozey, so I assumed the explanation was correct.
“What kind of bags are you using?” I asked.
“Oh, yeh know of this then,” Zaadey cackled. “Squirrel skin double wrapped with deer leather. ‘Bout the size’o yer fist fer one.”
“You can’t seriously be considering this,” Vaozey said angrily, glancing at me.
“I’ve done it before,” I revealed, omitting the fact that my body was made to have such storage containers in those cases. “Can I examine the packages before implantation?”
“Wanna make sure they’re safe?” Zaadey asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Well, I guess that ain’t too bad,” she shrugged. “Come upstairs and let’s get to it then.”
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As promised, the packages that Zaadey wanted to implant us with were just a bit smaller than my hand, and wrapped in leather. The first thing I did when I was given one to examine was throw it against a nearby wall with about half of my strength, testing to see if it would rupture. Surprisingly, it didn’t, and further tests involving stretching and compressing it had similar results. I have to admit, it’s impressive that this is sealed so well, I thought, it must also be liquid-sealed somehow, but maybe that’s done in one of the inner layers.
To protect the contents, we weren’t allowed to open any of the packages, but we did get to watch as Zaadey wrapped up some znahdeyvtih powder. The inner layer, made of squirrel skin, was stretched and layered tightly, preventing any fluid exchange. To demonstrate, Zaadey grabbed a nearby bucket of water and tossed the package in, showing that not even a bubble could escape from the first layer, let alone the leather. Though Vaozey was still very annoyed, she agreed to go along with the procedure, and once one of Zaadey’s people came back the implantation process began.
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Using a sharp knife and a spreading tool, the scraggly-looking man serving as a surgeon made an incision along my left side below the ribcage, then spread it open wide enough for him to be able to force one of the packages inside. A similar process was repeated on my right, then I was told to do a number of actions and stretches to help situate the new contents of my torso. It was uncomfortable, but not overly painful except during twisting and side-bending motions. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get stabbed, I thought, This is constricting my intestines a bit, so it would be best not to move at all to avoid digestive issues.
Vaozey’s implantation didn’t go as well, mainly because she couldn’t stop squirming as the surgeon did his work. Judging from her face during the stretches as well, her packages weren’t situated as well as mine were. I had to warn her, non-verbally, not to lash out at anyone and jeopardize the deal we were making, because she looked as though she wanted to kill Zaadey. Once the process was done, we were invited to sit down and wait until Zaadey got confirmation of where we would be meeting the wagons.
During the entire procedure, I had kept Roytmay within arm’s reach, but I was beginning to relax a bit after spending an hour with Zaadey so I let him wait in a chair across the room, with my chair blocking his exit. The entire time, he didn’t say a thing, and when word finally came that we were to head out he looked relieved, stumbling to his feet and sighing.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
“Oh come on,” Roytmay sighed, dark circles of fatigue under his eyes making him appear gaunt.
“You can go once we’re in the wagon,” I told him. “Until then, you’re coming along. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about my money.”
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Though walking with two extra lumps in my torso was uncomfortable, I didn’t lose focus even once while Roytmay and Zaadey led us to the north wall where the wagons were. It wasn’t until I was in the covered passenger section of our transport that I finally agreed to let Roytmay go, since we had to wait for several hours before departure and I was also beginning to feel the fatigue from staying up all night. Zaadey handed me my money, thanked me for some reason, then left Vaozey and me to our business, closing the sheets of the passenger section and plunging us into darkness. Against my best efforts, the sounds of the city began to blur, and I fell into a hazy half-sleep while leaning against the boxes beside me.
When I awoke, I was still sitting in the back of the covered wagon along with Vaozey, who had also fallen asleep at some point and was laying down. As I cleared my throat, the back sheets of the wagon opened up to reveal early morning light and a man stepped inside, closing the sheets behind him and igniting a lantern with a quick mutter of prayer. The smuggler, I thought as I looked at his dark clothing, looking like that, I’ll be surprised if the guards don’t catch us.
“Stay still,” the smuggler advised. “We’re at the north gate waitin’ to leave. Look as healthy as possible, don’t lift your shirt. Your name is Th’shiyah Seh’sp, and hers is Zhihl Jher. If the guards ask, you’re both amateur mercenaries who are goin’ to Muhryehv in search of work. Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah, cover identities,” I grunted. “I suppose I should use this accent, right?” I had swapped to my Uwrish accent when talking to Roytmay and Zaadey without realizing it, so I changed back to Gwahlaob.
“That would be your best option, yes,” the smugger replied. “We’ve already forged some paperwork for you and it’s with the driver, so it’s not likely that you’ll be checked thoroughly, but expect a small interview.” I nodded, then made the mistake of stretching my arms, sending a jolt of pain out from my kidneys and making me inhale.
“How long is this trip?” I asked.
“It’s around one week to Muhryehv,” the smuggler replied. “We’ve been instructed to feed you and keep you healthy, you concentrate on sleepin’ as much as possible and stayin’ still, got it? The more you aggravate those packages, the more it’ll hurt, and they ain’t comin’ out until we’re at our destination.”
“Understood,” I replied with a nod.
“Tell her the same thing when she wakes up,” the smuggler instructed, gesturing to Vaozey. “I hear she’s more lively than you, so she needs to hear it more.” His lecture finished, the smuggler walked to the back of the wagon and jumped out. I could hear people talking outside, but the residual fatigue in my system hadn’t quite left yet and my ears were still buzzing. As I looked over Vaozey in the low light, I noticed a bit of blood around her mouth and on the bench beneath her. Better clean that up, I thought.
As I wiped up the blood with a cloth that was on top of one of the boxes, Vaozey began to stir, then groan and cough in her sleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake her fully, but then her eyes fluttered open and she choked out a louder groan, grabbing at her sides and pushing herself into a sitting position.
“Wha-” she began asking in a rather loud voice.
“Quiet,” I whispered. “We’re still waiting to leave, guards will be coming to talk to us. If they ask, your name is Zhihl Jher, got it?”
“Zhihl…” Vaozey muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Seyt, I fell asleep.”
“Zhihl Jher,” I repeated. “You’re a mercenary going to Muhryehv for work. Just follow my lead.”
“Right,” Vaozey muttered, wincing and putting her hands down beside her. “Does this hurt as much for you as it does for me?”
“Probably not,” I replied. “You have a different torso shape, I think the packages are putting more pressure on your organs than mine.”
“Figures,” Vaozey sighed. “How long?”
“A week,” I answered. “According to the smuggler, the less you move, the less it’ll hurt. That’s consistent with what I know about healing magic as well.”
“Right, because you’ve done this before,” Vaozey scoffed.
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The guards didn’t ask us anything besides our names, which was a very large mistake on their part even though it was convenient for us. Soon enough, we were bouncing around in the back of the wagon, trying to soften the impacts of the ground to save ourselves the pain as the wheels bumped over rocks and holes in the road. Couldn’t these people have invented basic suspension by now? I thought angrily as a larger-than-average impact sent a wave of pain through my left side. I know they have spring steel, there’s no excuse. They could even do it with wood if the metal was too rare.
“I’m getting out and walking,” Vaozey said, pushing herself to her feet and staggering to catch herself from falling over.
“Don’t,” I told her. “We weren’t hired to go outside, and for all you know, you could rupture an organ doing that. It won’t heal properly if the package gets in the way. Not to mention, if you get stabbed somehow the package could rupture. If what’s in these is half as dangerous as blue leaf, you’ll be dead in seconds.”
“How the seyt would they have blue leaf this far into Mehzowrow?” Vaozey growled, sitting back down. She seemed to do a bit of thinking, then recall a detail that Roytmay had mentioned. “Wait a minute, Vehrehr, you said you were there with the Zae’ey’yaob kid when we talked in Owsahlk…” Vaozey went quiet for a minute, then turned her yellow eyes to me. “Are you the one who cooked that whole building of people?”
“Oh, yeah, that was me,” I replied, remembering I hadn’t ever mentioned it to her. “Though, most of them were probably dead before the fire got to them. I used vaporized blue leaf poison in my attack to incapacitate them.”
“You were the one?” Vaozey asked again. “Then, wait, why- no, how- seyt.” Seemingly unable to find words, Vaozey covered her mouth with her left hand for a moment, then exhaled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the gods wanted us to meet.” she finally said.
“I wasn’t aware your people believed in that sort of thing,” I replied, and Vaozey laughed quietly for some reason.
“You really don’t know much about Luwahriy culture, do you?” she asked. “Then again, you know a lot about other things, so I guess it balances out.” I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I kept quiet. “Since we’re not supposed to leave the wagon, I suppose, do you have any more of those stories? You know, the ones from your ‘homeland’.”
“I’m not a fan of having my past scrutinized,” I replied.
“Oh fine,” Vaozey groaned. “Tell me about why you killed all those people in Vehrehr. The stories about it couldn’t get any of the reasons straight, and most of them make no sense if it was you who did it.”
“Alright,” I shrugged, and I began recounting a summary of the time that I spent in Vehrehr, starting with meeting Koyl. Vaozey listened intently, sometimes looking amused as I mentioned things like when I nearly cut Thaajh’s hand off, or disgusted when I mentioned Koyl’s proclivities with Yehpweyl. When I got to the part with the two bears chasing me as I carried a full bag of blue leaf, she laughed out loud, apparently finding the fact that they wanted to kill each other more than me humorous.
“So then I killed four people at the entrance, went back in, and found a herbalist to process it,” I continued.
“You killed the herbalist too I’m guessing,” Vaozey snorted.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Here I thought you were a bit soft at times, but seyt,” Vaozey grunted. “If anything, I think you’re just restraining yourself now. Did you kill that shehp at the inn?”
“I was going to, but no,” I replied.
“That’s surprising,” Vaozey commented. “So what happened next?”
“I killed Yaavtey and his whole gang with it, along with his wife, child, and some other man who was in the house at the time,” I replied, and Vaozey made a strange expression. “Technically the only target was Yaavtey, and the first attack on his house was a failure. In a sense, the second attack was as well, because he survived the poison and we ended up fighting in the street.”
“I thought you said it was deadly,” Vaozey interjected. “Just a bit of it was enough to knock someone out, and breathing it for a minute or two would kill.”
“Yaavtey was eating Koyl’s stomach core repeatedly to gain power,” I explained. “I didn’t really understand it at the time, but he also must have known some way to use his magic to nullify the poison, possibly by focusing his healing magic. He was extremely strong but his techniques were crude, so I’m not sure what he did.” Vaozey frowned, then lightly grabbed her side with her right hand.
“It’s a shame about the innocent kid,” she said.
“Collateral damage is a part of combat,” I replied, and Vaozey let go of her side, putting her hand on her knee and looking directly at me again.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not tragic,” she said. “That kid didn’t deserve to die. You’ll have to answer for that one when you meet the gods, that’s for sure.” Though it wasn’t exactly a conclusive moral judgment of my actions, Vaozey’s hypocrisy was irksome.
“You killed well over a hundred people in the Owsahlk temple,” I reminded her. “Are you implying that all of them deserved to die? That your gods will care about my collateral damage, but ignore yours?”
“That’s different,” Vaozey replied. “Those were Rehvites.”
“Yaavtey was a Rehvite,” I countered. “At least, I’m fairly sure he was. He was working with them, so at a minimum he was an ally. Therefore, it’s likely his family was involved. Would that not make them guilty by your standards?” Vaozey thought about it for a moment.
“I suppose,” she replied. “Regardless, if I’ve killed innocents I’ll answer for it, as will you. I’m just saying to be prepared.”
“But if they’re Rehvites, then they weren’t innocent,” I stated.
“Exactly,” Vaozey smiled. “Some kinds of evil simply cannot be allowed to exist, and those corrupted by them must be destroyed. Do your people not believe something similar?” For a moment, the memory of watching a warbreed village be shelled into dust popped into my head, along with my previous standing orders.
“Something similar,” I echoed, looking away to the back of the wagon where the sunlight was peeking in. “Just not as metaphysical.”