by A Uscila
Satisfied, the Sweeper turned - only to face the dumbfounded bandit pests. That same sneer still present, frozen in a coldhearted light.
"Sorry to disturb your…business. No harm done, right?" - The lead bandit said in a stifled voice - clearly disturbed by the view. He raised his arm in a farewell motion, while turning towards whence he came from - „We'll just be going now...“
Quite politely - he was given the chance to finish what he wanted to say, as a bloodied tip of a sword left his abdomen. Stupefied and gasping for air - the poor bastard could barely turn his head sideways, only to glimpse a head full of medium length golden curls.
„Not so fast my little slobbering monkey. You’re going nowhere” - A female voice echoed from behind the wounded bandit - as a pair of blue eyes stared back playfully.
A similar fate awaited the remaining bandits - the heavily armored Pedro cavalry exploding in a frenzy - using the opportunity for undisturbed senseless violence. Seems like this was the last time Jim and his band could joke around without inspecting who they’re messing with.
*******
Luxuriously engraved wooden doors opened up in a sudden motion - as an average Joe of a guy entered the hall. Its ceiling reaching high above head. Held by a row of columns on either side of the room, a large empty basin present in the middle of it all. At the very edge of the basin stood two individuals. A child in the approximate age of 11, short golden hair covering his scalp, and a hunched man with a full head of shaggy hair of identical color. Both clothed in relatively extravagant robes - embroidered in bright red thread upon the white cloth. Their toes wiggled in unison from within the slippers the two wore - as if ready for a good swim. One they were not about to experience, seeing as the basin itself was empty of water. It’s not as if the supposed son and father were going to bathe in air. Because if so - they're already in process.
Being the newly arrived, the average Joe looking fella approached the two previously mentioned in hastened steps. His heavy breaths already echoing in close proximity - giving away either his poor health or indicating a long journey from the departure point. Steps echoed loudly across the large expanse - all due to improper footwear. A pair of hard leather shoes with wooden heels, tight woolen pants covered his lean legs, and a baggy red cloth covered the remainder of his hunched figure. Sweat ran down round cheeks, while his eyes darted around across the room nervously.
"Lord" - The man bowed heavily after approaching the two, keeping his head low long after the greeting – “I have brought the most recent report. I’m afraid the financial loss might soon be more than we can bear…”
"Ah, Bernard, glad you could join us. Just in time as well" - With a voice full of sarcasm, the youth replied after glancing towards the bowing man, lips twisted into a sneer - while the grown-up remained silent for some reason. His cold gaze looking down upon the bowing figure. Surprisingly - the identified Bernard was bowing towards the child, instead of his supposed parent, at least age-wise. Which did create quite the peculiar impression.
Just as the youth finished welcoming the newly arrived - bright liquid spilled into the empty basin, followed by billowing steam. Escaping from a hollow metal tube that stuck out of a nearby wall. Slowly, but surely the liquid kept on filling the empty space, it's shimmering yellow surface reflecting the people looking down on it like a mirror.
"Lord, this is?" - Bernard asked after witnessing the weird development, eyes captured by the glimmering mass below, all the nervousness forgotten as if it was never there to begin with.
"Ah, you see, I had this modest dream" - The youth replied again, his own gaze locked upon the increasing mass of yellow, just like everyone else's” - I always wanted to swim in money. Thus I asked to melt our recent gift that we acquired after some losses. Swimming in gold will do just as fine" - He added with the same sneer, sarcasm far from leaving his tone as he giggled youthfully at the very end of the explanation.
"Is this wise, my lord?" - Though hesitantly and hunching up even more - the average Joe raised a question, after glancing down towards the child. Not the best example of a relation between a superior and an underling. Considering, that the superior was supposed to be looking down, not the other way around. Might be the reason, why the underling dared to question his lord's decision. What audacity - such was the supposed direction the youth’s thoughts traveled to, as his sneer quickly twisted into a scowl. Slightly agitated, he withheld the reply for quite some time, his adjacent subordinate knowing better than to intervene - the same cold gaze locked upon Bernard.
"Dear Bernard, you’re absolutely right!" - The youth suddenly exclaimed, the previous unsatisfied look replaced by a gleaming white smile - "I always valued your wise council, you know" - To the sudden change of attitude after that brief moment of utter silence, the poor fella could only flinch. With eyes widened in surprise he looked down at the young lord, seemingly unable to believe the sudden praise. "Yes yes. Your council is always highly valued..." - The youth repeated, trailing off into contemplation as his right hand slowly rose towards the chin. Only for a moment though, as it quickly rose with the index finger pointing upwards - "Oh!" - He exclaimed, startling the poor underling once again - "I have an idea. Seeing as you value my well-being so much, it only seems appropriate for you to try out the bath before me!" - The youth slowly turned towards Bernard, the smile turning completely sinister, as he glared at the poor fella with pure evil reflecting within those brown pupils of his - "You know, to check if the temperature is just right..."
"No, Lord...please...have mercy" - Bernard begged, while slowly backing away from the supposed devil spawn of a child.
"Now now, no need to be modest. Princess, why don't you give a hand to dear Bernard?" - The youth turned towards his silent accomplice, that sinister smile still gleaming with malicious intent. His little body practically shaking from anticipation.
"I beg of you, mercy…" - Bernard continued, while backing away from what was about to take place. His unsteady feet tripping during the slow retreat - as the poor fella fell on his behind. Mercilessly, Princess nodded towards the given command and quickly approached the sniveling victim. With arms of pure muscle magnificence - he picked up Bernard like a toddler, lifting him up in a swift motion. While the victim struggled and cried about, Princess performed a quick spin - which lasted for two full turns, seemingly unaffected by the struggles of a grown man. Which did display the underling’s remarkable strength - especially when he himself was a full head shorter than the victim. Once the two turns were done and over with, Bernard was finally released - thrown into the air as if weightless - right into the pool of molten gold.
Screaming and crying - poor Bernard fell into the pool with a loud plop, only to resurface quickly enough. Screams muffled by the liquid gold, the victim gurgled and flailed about - desperately trying to reach the edge of the pool. Steam rose into the air in great tuffs around the victim, while liquid metal burned through skin and seeped through every orifice, filling in the eye sockets. Yet for all the pain, for all the unbearable agony the victim faced, he still struggled on. Desperately, hands swinging, Bernard gave it his all in an attempt to struggle to safety, to the nearest edge of the pool. Yet with each swing, the tenacity seemed to lessen as did the strength exerted. Slowly, but surely - the gurgles came to a stop, movements slowed down as the victim’s vitality sapped out. Together with the last supply of air - his body convulsing due to the few final chokes. A desperate reflex to keep out the molten metal from the breathing canals. Yet no matter how horrid the circumstance, Bernard did indeed manage to crawl onto the edge of the pool, his struggles ending just as whatever last objective his brain could register was completed. His body finally gave into the unimaginable pain - reaching its expiration date once the predetermined destination was reached, the gold cooling and solidifying into his figure. Turning into quite the horrific golden statue.
"Ah, this turned out better than expected. Have the statue pulled out, polished and placed in my apartme
nts" - The youth commanded, his small figure prancing about in utter excitement - expressing that innocent sparkle that kids usually have. Though the timing couldn't have been worse.
Seemingly unaffected - Princess nodded once again, but did not move to fulfill the command for some reason - "He was right though" - He added in his rasp voice, not a single emotion flickering in his facial muscles - "Especially after the losses we've been experiencing, be it in manpower or resources"
"I know I know" - The youth waved his hand reluctantly, once his prancing about was all but finished - be it due to the interruption or coincidence - "You know how I love doing as I wish, regardless of circumstance. I'll find some way to solve our predicament one way or another" - He shrugged, while steadily walking towards the exit in small steps - "I mean come on" - He shrugged - "They're just goblins. Commission some freelancers to do the dirty work for us. We'll turn the gold into coins as payment for them if need be" - He added, a thumb reluctantly pointed towards the yellow pool of pure glory.
"There's a possibility of a third party involved. Probably bandits - since some attacked caravans have different levels of damage. Most notably - missing bodies. Goblins usually massacre everyone and leave the remains. In addition - I would like to mention that annoying Sweeper, cutting across our South-eastern lands, disrupting our production rate in villages" - Princess continued, desperately conversing with the back of the leaving youth. Amazingly able to maintain the same expressionless look.
This piece of news did seem to have an effect on the youngling, as the Lord suddenly stopped to contemplate the issue - raising his hand towards his chin once again. "Fantastic! If there are really bandits out there, we‘ll have those Pedro fanatics do us a little favor. Arrange for the two to destroy each other! I leave the means to your imagination" - After a brief pause, the Lord announced his decision and hurriedly left the presumed bathhouse - most likely to simply avoid any other headache causing issues that his silent colleague might bring-up.
Princess nodded, seemingly to himself, only to turn towards what remained of Bernard, motionlessly staring upon the golden carcass. His expression giving away nothing of what was going on inside his mind.
Chapter 39
Quite the number of people lazily traversed the woods - their entire fortunes upon bent backs, some within wagons pulled by oxen or horses. Children, mothers, old men - accompanied by barn and pet animals. Refugees. With their very lives in bags - the procession traveled towards the destination in sight. A large clearing. Within it? A fort. A bandit fort. Wail’s bandit fort to be precise.
Illuminated by the faltering rays of the setting sun - it has seen quite the bit of improvement. Entire fields of land were already stolen from the clutches of the forest around. Trees cut down and uprooted. Construction was underway - as the main fort was being reconstructed. Its’ walls now that of stone - people placing slab after slab in a tedious construction process. Carts filled with the mentioned building material arriving through the main gate. Though it was more like just a large opening, since no actual gate was in sight. Yet.
Various shacks and wooden buildings were littered about - sounds of bustling people echoing from the streets in-between. Laughter, shouts, the beating of a blacksmiths hammer upon metal. Quite the busy bunch. Seems like most of the present folk lived within the area outside the main fort - it surrounded by a medium height wooden wall. Made out of staked tree trunks.
Plowed fields could be seen beyond it, surrounded by various defensive perimeters - visibly still under construction. Trenched with upper and lower ground, dug in stakes and various holes. Quite the defense. It’s as if the place was preparing for war or something.
Wagons filled with large pieces of stone and lumps of raw ore traveled from the west - a mountain range visible on the horizon. Horsed and horseless men, accompanying them to and fro. Passing by a large gathering of individuals - stationed near the west side of the outer wall. Bound and bloodied men surrounded by bandits armed to the teeth - clothed in blackened studded leather. A few festering corpses standing about here and there.
“Send them to the mines. Make sure they’re underfed and overworked. I don’t want any riots over there” - With a tone of superiority and a stuck-out chest, Wail was busy giving orders. As always - taking pleasure in the act, eyes - drinking in the fear and respect those around showed. Or most of those around - seeing as the living corpses weren’t much for feelings. Or expressions. Or breathing. Minion number one included - as per usual, he stood around awkwardly at Wail’s side. Serving multiple purposes - a trading card, a bodyguard and a sacrificial pawn if need be.
“Do you want to send all of them, oh benevolent one? We’re lacking some workforce in the fort as well” - An uncomfortably low voice echoed in reply - its source? An oversized orc, his facial features covered behind a chunk of steel for a helm. Long, untidy black hair sticking out from under it. Macrosh always knew how to tactfully disagree.
“Use the damn refugees for that. I don’t know why they’re flocking to this place or where they found out about our location, but we might as well get some use out of this predicament. If they want to stay - they’ll have to either fight or work. Nothing is free” - Wail replied casually, while carefully inspecting a parchment filled with numbers, which was given to him by a passing guard - one who was escorting the wagon filled with raw ore.
“I heard their villages were burned down and since it’s quite near, and a few of our own have family there - they decided to join us” - A youth in his twenties spoke up, his small frame unintentionally covering behind Macrosh - “G-great one” - he quickly added with clear uncertainty, after noticing his orcish colleague flinch.
A smile appeared on Wail’s face as he was finally done inspecting the content of the parchment - seemingly quite satisfied with the provided info. Luckily for the inexperienced lad - it did seem like the bandit overlord didn’t hear or notice the delay in honorifics - “They’ll soon regret that half-assed decision. If they want food - they’ll have to either work for it or get it themselves. If they want a home - they’ll have to build it themselves. Those stealing are to be captured and punished severely. I have no qualms with public execution. Also - increase nightly patrols” - Quite the dictator that Wail. Another used opportunity to vent pent up anger over the experienced suffering in reality. A true self-absorbed, egotistical bastard.
“What about the old, the women and children, wise one?” - Macrosh added in low tone.
Wail narrowed his eyes to that - while trying to figure out if there was any hidden mockery in that well-deserved title - “What about them? They can craft arrows or polish weapons and gear. Take care of the fields and share their experience in daily chores. Children? You can be a little lenient on them. If they don’t cause trouble, they won’t be forced to work” - Wail then replied, after giving up on his previous suspicions - “Those who train in weaponry and are planning to join our cause after turning of age though - will get free rations” - He added.
Seems like the final edict satisfied Macrosh quite a bit, as he excitedly nodded - “It will be done, your supreme overlordness! I shall spread the word to the officers” - With emanating energy, he was about to rush off into the fort - leaving his young compatriot all alone with Wail. Quite unfriendly of him. Before Macrosh could do that though - Wail seemed to have something to say regarding it.
“Before you go. I have some directions for the recruitment of fresh blood” - Still serious as ever, completely absorbed in the role of a leader - “At this point, we need all the fodder we can get, so be lenient. You can give the most dangerous tasks to those most suspicious, if you will” - With a straight face, this slave-driver of a leader gave quite the sinister orders. Did not look like he was joking either. Nor did it seem that Macrosh thought so, or had any qualms regarding it - “As you wish, great one” - He replied, and after a short bow left towards the predetermined destination - that Wail kept him from before.
“Well?” - Wail asked in an
expectant tone as he looked upon the abandoned youth, who seemed a little stunned after listening to that brief and merciless exchange.
For a few moments the recipient seemed to fumble for words, unsure of what to say. Maybe he didn’t really know what the bandit overlord wanted, with that curt question.
O-oh, right. The weekly report?” - He replied eventually, while briefly glancing at Wail for confirmation - which he didn’t get. He didn’t get a negative one either - thus a continuation ensured - “We sent seventeen raiding parties this week” - In a much more composed tone, he declared officially - after fumbling through a few pieces of parchment. All of it taken out from a purse like bag that hung by a leather belt from his shoulder - “Two of those were successful without any casualties, while seven had a manpower loss of at least ten percent” - Quite the official report, though his tone gave away what comes next - as he continued with a much weaker voice - “We lost all contact with four and the remaining ones had at least half of the men dead. All in all - excluding the manpower loss, we received about four thousand gold coins worth of profit in loot and fifteen…people for cheap labor” - Once done, the youth neatly folded the parchment he was using during the report and placed it back into the bag.