Chapter 144
The Greyrats in Turmoil
“Martell.”
“Shit!” the Beastfolk Boy’s ears twitched as he jumped aside. “Don’t surprise me like that! How are you even erasing your scent?!”
Illumca did not answer and simply handed over a piece of paper. “This is the result of my stakeout.”
After a brief read of the report, Martell grinned. “Well now. It seems we can start doing some real clean-up around here. Those rats won’t know what hit them,” he continued. “Let’s go tell Mistress the good news.”
The two then made their way towards the treatment facility to find Connie. Once they were there, however, she was nowhere to be found. As such, they asked a Herbalist currently treating a patient.
“The Lady is in discussion with some of my colleagues nearby. I will take you to her,” the man said as he handed his responsibility over to a volunteer nearby.
They were taken to a small farmhouse rented by the town where they saw Connie leading some people in stained clothes in a discussion. She was standing in front of a chalkboard – an invention brought to Grea by the Third Generation Hero of Vorzenny (who sadly died from drowning) – while crossing the name of a plant written upon it. Mark Rounds and Hagen Sondt were also putting in their two bits, proposing possible alternatives or making suggestions.
Though Connie was arguably someone whose knowledge of Alchemy was centuries above them, she would be the first to admit that she was not familiar with some of the ingredients used in Azure Dream. However, by utilizing the experiences of the Herbalists, she managed to fill in the knowledge gap.
“They’ve been at it since last night,” the Herbalist said. “She is a genius. A one in a hundred years genius! She perfected our treatment for the patients with light symptoms within hours. And now, she is making a recipe to treat the ones that are wasting away.”
A feeling of relief came into Illumca’s heart. It was the first time she ever saw Connie so animated.
As Martell was about to call for his Mistress, Illumca caught him by the shoulder. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
“Do we need Connie to handle this?”
“No, but Mistress said that she wanted to be informed as soon as we get new info.”
“Then we’ll give it to her once we finished handling the Greyrats.”
“I don’t know about this -,” Martell was about to complain further, but he threw his hands up when he saw the expression on her face. “Okay, fine. We’ll handle this on our own. But you’ll follow my plan to the letter. Is this clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Let’s go back into town then.”
Illumca disappeared into thin air as a response. Seeing this, Martell sighed. “Why make things harder for us? Love…I could never understand it.”
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A few days had passed and the jail in the Town’s Guards Headquarters was at full capacity for the first time in years. There were so many of them that Martell had to delegate the interrogation to other members of the Town’s Guards. However, most of them had nothing worthy of note.
After the Azure Dream was outlawed by Connie’s decree, by Martell’s suggestion, Akula and Nick started a crackdown on all peddlers of the vile drug, putting pressure on the Greyrats.
“It’s a Raid!!”
Illumca watched from her perch as men and women ran out of a supposedly empty house with weapons in hand. These were not soldiers, she thought. But they chose to hurt their fellow men with a poisonous chalice in exchange for a few coins. So, she did not pity them. Even as they fall in surrender when they realize that they were no match for the Town’s Guards.
Among them, there were four men that were different from the others. These were dangerous men with blood in their hands. Curiously enough, they were higher leveled compared to the others. And with blades and swords in hand, they pushed the Town’s Guards back.
But Illumca did not move an inch. They were not her prey.
They were getting the upper hand, and they grew braver. That was until she heard familiar horseshoes running across cobblestones.
“Fall back!” Akula yelled.
The sight of a Centaur hurtling at you at full speed was a terrifying one. One of the mercenaries saw her coming but was helpless to act as he was thrown across the street with a powerful swipe of her Sukheri. It did not take long for her to rout the Mercenaries.
And still, Illumca did not move.
Then, her eye spotted the figure of a bearded man, climbing down a second-story window of the hideout.
“Ah, there you are.”
Illumca prepared her silk thread and gave it an experimental tug.
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Akula walked in front of the hideout of the Greyrats, watching her men handling the aftermath of the raid. She looked at the large hole on the wooden wall of the building, a result of her overzealous movement.
“Ugh, this is why I hate fighting in Stonemen towns! Too many obstacles! Too many buildings! I can’t even have a proper charge!”
As she complained, she saw Illumca walking towards her, dragging a man who was struggling to get free.
“Who’s that?”
“The leader of this hideout, Grisham. I asked him about Mister B, just like I asked the one in Third Street before him,” she answered. “He never met the man. He only got orders through a proxy.”
“Same answer then,” Akula groaned.
They then saw Private Goons coming towards them. He saluted twice and said. “Saw ‘em. Yes I did. People in the basement. Lots of ‘em. Won’t move even when I poke ‘em with a stick.”
After hearing the report, the two looked at each other grimly.
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“Twenty men and women, all at the late stage of Azure Dream addiction,” Martell repeated the news brought to him by Illumca. “With those we found in Third Street, that adds up to thirty-three people. By Hurgul’s Beard, this town is really rotten.”
Davis, who was watching the people being treated and cleaned by volunteers from the former Resistance could only agree. He could not fathom the number of people that have been taken throughout the year.
“But for what? And to where?”
“I don’t know what they are used for. But as for where...we just managed to find it out,” Davis answered. “They were instructed to transport the kidnapped people to a specific location in the forest about twenty kilometers from her. They transported them by putting them inside Beer Barrels by acting as merchants."
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"DId the Resistance not know about this?"
"The Resistance...was spread too thin," a former member of the Resistance that joined their meeting admitted. "We were facing hard enough time trying to save those we can save."
"Alright, forget it," Martell said. "Now that we know, we also found out that they even made a dummy merchant company to do this.”
“That’s horrible,” Akula said with clear disgust.
“Horrible, yes. Horrifying, even…but clever. None of the prisoners we caught thus far is smart enough to think of something like this, even the leaders. They are all simple thugs," Martell explained as he pushed the paper in front of them away. "That is also why the Greyrats are a decentralized organization.”
“What is…decentralized?” Akula asked.
“In this case, it means that leaders of each hideout are responsible for his own territory. From the info that we got from the ones we caught; leaders of each hideout were told to stay only within their territories. Anyone who encroached on other leader’s territory is severely punished,” Illumca explained.
“Yes, they can make their own decisions to an extent. But every important order always comes from a proxy,” Martell said. “But one detail stood out,” she said. “The proxies communicate only through writing. Probably to hide their voices, to prevent their identities from being found out. Like I said, too cautious and clever to come from a ragtag bunch like Greyrats.”
“…wait, we did not have this detail before,” Illumca said. Her eye narrowing.
“Because I just got it this evening,”
“What about the mercenaries? Did we get something out of them?”
“Yes…and no,” Martell sighed. “All of them said that they are personally chosen by Mister B. But again, they never even met him. He is a slippery one, this rat.”
“Then is it hopeless?” Akula asked.
“Hard to trace does not mean that they cannot be traced. Everyone has their sore points. In this case, it’s the number of people Mister B needs,” Martell said. “He demanded that they increase the number of people to be sent to him. Now that we have rescued the victims, the rest of the Greyrats will be even more desperate to fulfill their quota. As such, they will become careless.”
Martell steepled his fingers together. “So now, we have two options. The first is to trace the trafficking route. However, if Mister B is as clever as I thought, he wouldn’t risk doing transports while the Greyrats are tightly monitored. The second is…with Mistress getting closer to finding out the cure for Azure Dream, they will grow desperate. And on the other hand, we will continue doing this, push the Greyrats to the brink. We will cut off his proverbial arms and see whether he screams. And when he did, we will be prepared.”
Martell then handed them their assignments. “Zalkhin Altanghazar can go ahead and continue to do your work. Nick, get some eyes on these three merchant companies.”
“You said we don’t need to take care of the trafficking route.”
“We always need a backup plan. That’s what Mistress always said,” he replied. “As for Illumca and me, we will continue to work on surveillance. With any luck, Mister B will come out like a drowned rat out of a gutter.”
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In another place, far from the bustle of the town, Arryn the Dark Elf was startled awake from her sleep with a frightful look on her face.
She dreamt of old times, of old sins that she had never forgotten. And it made her feel worse.
She looked around and saw that she was in one of the many stone rooms where the Clan was based in. So, we made it back. She thought.
Then she heard a groan from the bed next to her and saw Leyn lying with a dim smile. He was bare except for his trousers. His abdomen was bound with a cloth that smelled heavily of herbs.
You look like a horse had run over you. Arryn signaled.
Trust me, it felt worse than it looked. Leyn motioned stiffly.
How long have I been asleep?
Benua told me that we’ve slept for a few days. I also just woke up a few hours ago. Enough time to feel my rib killing me.
After a brief conversation, the two fell into silence. However, their eyes met a few times. It was clear that the two of them wanted to ask something of the other but did not know how to begin.
Leyn, that Dark Elf… she finally managed to start, but her hands hesitated to move. They moved slowly as if she was unsure what to say.
She’s dead. Leyn gestured without looking at her. She’s dead and it was our fault. We trusted a traitor and lost everything. Would a Demon like Bet-Zebek and his ilk spare a disabled child like Illumca? He had killed many of us for less.
But she knew my name! Perhaps she managed to escape!
Have you looked at that Dark Elf? One look at her, and you’d know that she was of pure blood. Our Illumca was a Half-Blood. They could not be the same person. She might know your name because you were careless or something.
That’s…!
They heard the wooden door to their front open and saw a Dark Elf came in. He wore simple cotton clothing stained with green and red. His fading grey hair had been cut short and parted to one side. He was one of Arryn’s close friends, and one of the few Healers who had learned enough to be able to treat people without the use of Magic.
Woke up already, have you? I see that your complexion is still a bit pale. Benua gestured swiftly. Also, Leyn. That Chetkusa wants to see you.
Chetkusa was a disparaging Old Elfin word, whose closest meaning in Calendian was “Night Soil Worm”.
But to Arryn and her clan, that word referred to only one thing. Their master, Bet-Zebek the Bone Eater. Calling him with a dirty word was nothing but a feeble attempt at rebellion. But without it, it would feel like the Clan had completely surrendered themselves to him.
I’ll go.
Arryn, you just woke up. Benua protested.
Leyn still needs his rest. He can’t even breathe right with that broken rib of his.
Alright. Benua shook his head helplessly and took out a handful of leaves from a jar on a wooden shelf next to him. Chew on this. It will numb the pain a bit.
Thanks, Benua. She said as she took them gratefully and chewed on it. It tasted rather spicy, but soon the insides of her mouth felt thick.
You should go now, the Chetkusa does not like to be kept waiting.
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In a room made out of ancient stone, a Demon with humanlike teeth for eyes sat on a throne that looked as if it grew from the rocks beneath. Thousands of candles light the room, each little breeze made his shadow dance.
The Demon’s gaze was fixed on the Essence Crystal before him, pulsating like it was alive. A black mist enveloped it, moving erratically. When Bet-Zebek put one of his long, horrible claws near it, the black mist repelled him. Eliciting a smile of glee from his rotted jaw.
“Ah, Bet-Huda. Lauded Ur-Nagud of the Unborn Foal Banner. Even in death your hatred still lives. I could only imagine how you felt as you sacrificed your life,” a halted, unpleasant chuckle escaped his rotted mouth. “But rest assured, once I…Bet-Zebek of the Bereaved Dead Banner, assimilated your Essence Crystal, I…will rise and take my rightful place by the side of our Beloved King. May He reign forevermore.”
Then, as his fingers danced, playing with the baleful mist and absorbing it, he spoke.
“Come forward.”
A figure walked into the chamber once the permission was given. Lights from the candles fell onto her bronze skin, long ears, and wheat-colored hair. There was fear and trepidation on her face as she slowly made her way towards the throne.
“Ur-Nagud Bet-Zebek,” she spoke. “You called for me?”
The Demon did not answer. Instead, he pointed with his horrible, maggot-eaten hands at a silver plate laden with piles of bones. The Dark Elf hesitated as she put her hands on each side of the plate, trying not to look at them, and presented it to the Demon.
Bet-Zebek’s right hand reached out onto the plate. He picked a small one and put it into his right eye. With a horrifying crunch, the bones were crushed.
Merida averted her sight. No matter how many times she had seen her Master ate, she could never get used to that unpleasant tingling sensation behind her eyes when she did.
“How goes the gathering of the cattle?” Bet-Zebek the Bone Eater asked as he waved away the plate.
With relief, the Dark Elf put the plate away and once again tried not to look at it. She felt like she needed to scrub her hands raw after this.
“It’s…going fine, Ur-Nagud.”
“Going fine, is it?” Bet-Zebek’s fingers danced, and he launched a plume of black smoke which slammed against the female Dark-Elf, throwing her to onto the stone wall.
“You dare lie to me?! I have ordered you to get me more humans!! But where are they?!”
“Forgive me, I will rectify this mistake!”
“It seems to me that still having your tongue makes you disobedient. Perhaps I should allow you to share the same fate as the rest of the Clan that you betrayed?”
“You can’t! Maluk-Sedi Ged-Abinadab had promised us!”
“Do you think you are special, Merida of the Liban Clan? Maluk-Sedi Ged-Abinadab had allowed you and your daughter to keep your tongues not out of respect, but because you are more useful with your tongues intact. Pray that I do not find you to be tiresome, lest I choose to sever it forthwith.”
The nightmarish Demon stood up from his throne. His body creaking as he loomed over Merida, who looked at him with fear.
His hand reached out and clasped her jaws between his two fingers.
“I have shown you the way to control the humans. Devised the way how you should organize the lowly gutter rats so that you could distribute power so that no one is stronger than the other. Such that they would only plant their eyes on each other, and not ask anything more. I have – as you humans say – lead you to the watering hole,” Bet-Zebek said with a chilly tone. Merida could feel the maggot infesting his hand wriggling onto her cheek. “Do I need to teach you how to drink also?”
“I…I will take care of it, Ur-Nagud!”
“This will be your last chance,” he said as he let go of her. “One mistake, and I and those who serve me will slake our thirst with the blood of your brethren. And I will make you watch as I pluck your eyeball and crushed it with my teeth,” Bet-Zebek said as he pointed at his eye socket. The teeth making a grinding noise.
“I…I will do my best!”
“I don’t want your best. I want you to do,” the Demon sat back on his throne and bellowed. “Now leave!”
Merida scampered away the moment she heard the order. When she closed the heavy stone door behind her, she met eyes with Arryn, who was walking towards the chamber with a bit of a limp.
There was no hiding the hostility and hate contained within Arryn’s eyes when she met Merida’s. If she had a voice, she would have cursed her name a million times.
Merida the Traitor. Merida the False-Tongue.
The woman who sold the Clan to the Demons.