A harrowing hour later Amber had fallen back asleep, and Chess had sent Gramps a letter in English, telling him what had happened.
Now that she finally neared the end of her complex weave of half-truths, her head throbbed under the stress of keeping everything straight. She desperately wanted to sing the start of the little ditty they'd made so she could check her notes.
Instead, she opened her mouth to explain how they ran into Gramps and Stace when the door behind her slammed open with a bang, then crack as it bounced off the adjacent wall.
Chess spun at the abrupt sound, hand going to her empty waist, and watched as an irate young woman caught the flailing door with a slippered foot before stalking forward demanding, "Where is my father!? And what in the depths is the meaning of this… this drivel!?"
The waspish green-skinned woman held a thick sheaf of paper up before crumpling it in her fingers.
A trio of straight-backed people in black full-plate armor followed a few steps behind the petite girl. They swept the room before moving to take positions at the door and windows.
"My lady! Please do join us," Sholer said from where she sat perched on a tall stool placed beside the cot Chess was using as a lounge—with pillows to prop her up—and gestured to the open cot nearby.
They'd dragged an end table between them and had a tea service brought for the second round of interrogation.
"No! You will explain—now!" the young woman, no elf, said through clenched teeth. The sides of the classically crafted elf's face sported long elegantly shaped ears much like Chess's own, wrought in the whimsical seafoam green of the girl's skin with lines of brilliant red highlighting the tips and edges of her ears and the structure of her high cheekbones, jaw, and brows.
Chess found her gaze tracking the red and purple lines that highlighted the structure of the girl's neck before continuing to where they disappeared into a low neckline.
Her long light and dark blue hair spilled down past her shoulders in an artful way. And, unlike Chess, the girl had an almost complete lack of assets to fill out the form-hugging dusky purple dress she wore.
In a word, the girl looked... alien, like something dreamt up by the makeup department of an eighties sci-fi movie. Even the gnolls hadn't thrown her as much as this young noble for some reason.
Probably because of werewolf movies.
It took a moment for Chess to decide it was the tropical fish colors that threw her for the loop, and Chess couldn't help but gawk for a long-drawn-out second before taking a sip from the cup in her hand to break the spell, as the young girl stomped forward to stand over Abbess Sholer.
The bitter tea added an acerbic counterpoint to the sudden turning in Chess's belly as she realized who this must be.
Abbess Sholer slowly turned her head to look up at the girl, face carefully blank.
If looks could kill, Chess thought.
“Izla. Crisya. Caldur. Sit. Down.” Sholer’s clipped words acted like a bolt of lightning to the girl. She froze solid with her mouth open.
"Apologies, Mother Superior," Izla chirped after a long second. She then stepped back and sat on the open cot with deliberate elegance. The fabric of her skirts whispered faintly as she folded her legs before placing her hands in her lap with her back ramrod straight. Her eyes never left the Abbess, but Chess saw a purple flush work its way up from the girl's breast to fill her cheeks.
"Better," Sholer said after a drawn-out silence. She waved at a nearby Sister before turning back to Chess.
"Lady Stewart, it's my pleasure to introduce Lady Izla Crisya, now acting Countess of Caldur." She gestured at Izla then Chess. "My Lady Caldur this is Lady Stewart, of a yet uncharted Rift society called Canada."
"Pleasure," Izla said with a small nod and distracted frown.
Chess resisted the urge to say wazzup but simply matched the girl with a trace of a smile and a nod of the same depth. Amber had stressed she should present herself as something similar to a countess for their narrative.
“Now, the contents of that letter contained the information I had at the time I drafted it. Men have been sent to gather your father's man Steven who, as the only known survivor of the patrol, I'm told has more answers for us,” Sholer explained.
“Oh...what have you learned?” Izla seemed more subdued by the Abbess’s explanation.
“Lady Chess, her ward, and sister Plinder managed to escape the Ambush set for your father by a group of bandits led by one of Lord Canfree's bastards. She was just finishing her tale,” Sholer said.
"Canfree?" Venom filled Izla's voice.
"It appears so. Though he's been meticulous as always." A flicker of annoyance passed over the Abbess' face.
Izla growled. "Will he ever stop? How many times has he tried to force me into marrying that layabout son of his, Nathan? Even the courtesans stay away from him!"
"That's not going to be a problem anymore," Chess murmured under her breath.
"What do you mean?" Izla turned her intense gaze on Chess.
Abbess Sholer sighed. "He's dead. Lady Stewart was caught up in one of his games and came out on top."
"You—you killed him, and all his guards?" Izla looked incredulous.
"Guards?" Chess wondered. "There were only four of them."
"I've dug up recent rumors that he did something to truly displease his father—that the duke stripped him of Pyth and threw him out. Though what he did to displease his father has been buried," Sholer said.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Well, good riddance," Izla said.
"It's still a problem. He was still a Canfree," Sholer admonished.
"They'll use it," Izla agreed and let out a long breath.
Chess sighed, rubbed her eyes, and then looked at Abbess Sholer anticipating the next question. "I'd love to take you up on your offer…" Chess paused to swallow.
"But?" Sholer prompted with a smile.
"But my Goddess needs me to travel. I can't be tied to one place, and you're very much invested here. I am aware of my need to learn more martial and magical skills. As my education lacked in those regards, but with the good fortune we had in the rift I feel I can afford personal trainers on my own. Still, I want you to know that I appreciate the offer—and know I'm not dismissing it out of hand. I... it just isn't in the cards right now."
Sholer sat back and took a sip of her tea in contemplation, and Chess turned to Izla.
A complicated look worked its way across Izla's face before she asked, "You intend to flee?"
Chess smiled sardonically. "Let's call it a tactical retreat until things have blown over here. A few decades…" She didn't finish the thought.
"Elves, it's hard to see the world as you do at times." Sholer shook her head. "What about your ward?"
"She's with family now." Chess shrugged dismissively, though a knot formed in her stomach. Please believe me! she thought and waggled her metaphysical fingers at the pair. At least it appeared the Abbess took 'no' for an answer, for now. Though she'd have to remember to remain vigilant on the subject. Sholer didn't seem the type to give up that easily.
"Where do you think you'll go?" Sholer asked.
Chess smiled and shook her head. "Life has been...harrowing of late, and I haven't thought that far ahead. Amber and I discussed joining the delver's guild. Maybe we'll find something there."
Sholer matched her smile and refilled everyone's tea. "Speaking of which, would you please finish your tale?"
Chess sighed and nodded before restarting.
Faced with two interrogators this time it took her over an hour to finish her story and navigate herself through their questions.
Sometime during her retelling, a messenger had arrived and taken up station near the door. He approached once it became clear they were done and handed the Abbess a missive.
Sholer's face took on a blank mask as she read—a look that was matched by the count's daughter when the older woman passed the letter to her.
The Abbess finished her tea in one long sip before returning the cup and its saucer to the small table, then stood. Lady Caldur matched her a moment later. "Lady Stewart, if you would excuse us? A matter has come up demanding our attention," Sholer said.
Well, that wasn't ominous, Chess thought as she watched them leave.
Izla stopped at the door and turned back. "Lady Stewart?" Chess raised an eyebrow. "Will you join me for the Heel's games and auction in two days? I'm told master Stoneblood's latest creations will be up for sale. It will be entertaining at the very least."
Chess froze for a moment before nodding slowly. "Sure...That sounds lovely."
"I'll leave word at the event." Izla hurried to catch the Abbess.
Chess finished her tea before sitting on the end of Amber's bunk and watching her sleep.
After a time, she took some ironwood and redwood out and began crafting a crossbow, losing herself to the work as the conversation replayed in her mind.
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The next morning Chess found herself fully armored watching as Amber wrangled her newly collar-broken Gnoll slaves for inspection as the sun threw its first faint rays over the horizon.
The thought of her slaves brought another frown to her face and she resisted the scowl that wanted to replace it. She settled for crossing her arms under her breasts instead.
A few paces to her left a broad-shouldered bear-kin woman in meticulously polished white armor waited patiently for Amber to finish, her large helm tucked under an arm. To her right, the human Sister that Chess figured was the Abbess' personal aide likewise waited.
Chess wondered if she held more distaste for the fact she now apparently owned 13 gnoll slaves because of her judicious use of her Charm ability or for the mercenary recruiter that was almost gleeful at the prospect of purchasing them directly. All because Chess didn't want the 'hassle' of going elsewhere to sell them.
An auspicious number, she thought. Though it's 27 if I include the new heads. I'm starting to think I need to redefine the term headhunter back to something a little more on the nose. I wonder if it's a subclass?
She wasn't naive enough to have some notion of freeing her new chattel. She'd made war on them; killed their leaders and kin. But the thought of selling reasoning people still made her shift from foot to foot like a kid waiting outside the principal's office. Besides, if she let them go, the mercenaries would likely just recapture them and she'd have thrown out some wealth that could keep her and those she cared for alive.
Slave armies, Chess knew there was a lot to unpack in that simple concept. Didn't Flemming say that mercenary companies were one of the few ways for slaves to earn their freedom? At least that's something.
Chess closed her eyes and sighed. Justified and intelligent or not, her complicity in the situation left a bitter taste in her mouth.
On a 'positive?' note, Amber seemed quite skilled at the whole process.
I need a drink. I wonder if I can buy a few casks to store?
She shook her head and turned her attention back to Amber's task and made herself inspect her slaves.
Over half of the gnolls were distinctly the products of rape or mixed parenting. She saw characteristics of many other races in those arrayed before her. A pair with distinct bear-kin size and facial features. One young boy almost looked human but with a hyena-like snout and teeth. A few were much more feline-looking than a normal hyena.
Only one elderly female gnoll that looked half-dwarven stood out. According to Masae, they didn't normally live long in the tribes and the weak and useless were killed or left behind to starve. The grey-furred gnoll likely had a useful talent. The dwarven blood likely didn't hurt.
After a sister accepted the two youngest females to cover the healing costs, including the additional bone mending for Amber and the damage caused by their unconventional arrival, Chess was left with 11 slaves.
Amber smiled back at her, and Chess couldn't help but match it. "Are you sure you don't want to keep some of the warriors to enter into the games? It can be quite profitable."
Chess grimaced. "No. I'm already...bored with all this. See what Gia here is willing to offer. You're better with all this than I am. If you can't work something reasonable out, we'll take your other suggestion and enter them into the auction."
Amber shrugged and eagerly started haggling with the bear-kin woman who'd stepped forward at Chess's word.
Though she said it as part of the act, Chess found herself actually growing bored as the pair went back and forth on each slave. She pulled out a few head blocks to sit on and Sprig, then began to play Tiny Dancer idly without singing to stop herself from fidgeting.
In the end, it turned out she was right about the short elderly gnoll as Amber negotiated a larger sum for the female than all of the rest combined.
"A ril, twenty-three Jacks and a handful of smalls, all totaled," Amber declared proudly, handing Chess a small purse.
Chess sighed and took the bag wordlessly. She disappeared into her vault to store it and her blocks.
When she came out, she smiled at Amber.
"Ready to see the Heel?" Amber asked.
Chess nodded. "It's about bloody time. We need to get rid of all these heads. And I could really go for a drink or ten."