by Andrew Lynch
‘Agreed. But we've got another twenty men scouring the vicinity, so we've got a minute. Do a quick search of the premises. Just so I can see you in action, of course.’ The Lieutenant leaned against a wall and folded his arms, not really paying attention.
Garadan admired just how lax this Lieutenant was, not even checking the wounded - dead - body. A master of delegation, that only a government could raise in rank to the point where he became dangerous enough to shift blame and make decisions.
Lucian hesitated for a moment but then went to work, moving around the few possessions that Garadan had. He checked under the bed.
He checked the chest of drawers, eliciting a chuckle from the Lieutenant. ‘You think they hid a person in a chest of drawers?’
‘I was thinking that maybe they had stashed a clue, sir,’ Lucian defended himself.
‘I said we had a minute, not an hour. Hurry it up!’
Lucian visibly sped up, rummaging through the kitchen area including the miniature stove. Having swept the entire room, he then moved towards the privy door. Darrius cleared his throat, causing Lucian to slow his stride.
He put his hand on the handle. The door didn’t move.
‘It’s locked. Well, best be off, sir.’
‘No, no. Just kick it down, won’t take a second,’ the lieutenant said, still bored.
‘Yes, sir.’ Lucian shuffled around, then stepped back, ready to kick. Rethinking, he then just pulled the door. It opened enough for Lucian to look inside this time. He saw Rambles first, and then looked up to see Garadan, crammed into the small room. He reached in, grabbed Rambles by the shirt, and looked into Garadan’s eyes.
Garadan put a thousand words into the stare he gave Lucian. He couldn’t be sure which of these words Lucian actually managed to see, but he returned a stare of his own. A pleading. Garadan felt it implied that Lucian was a bit surprised by the whole situation, and that he could protect his friends better if he turned in this unknown man.
Garadan decided there wasn’t any wiggle room in his stance, and that if he let Rambles out, he’d have killed two people tonight, not just the rebel on the table. He grabbed Lucian’s wrist tightly and made a low growl.
Lucian let go and closed the door.
‘Umm, it’s open actually, sir. Just a sticky door. Nothing in there.’
‘All right. Well, swing it wide and we'll be off.’ The Lieutenant unfolded his arms and started towards the exit.
Lucian opened the door a crack and then slammed it shut. ‘All done, sir.’
‘Hmm? Good job. Let’s get back to the search.’ Garadan thanked the Gods that the Lieutenant didn’t care.
The Lieutenant had just stepped out of the door when the man on the table groaned.
Everyone froze.
The Lieutenant even went so far as to pause mid stride, one leg in the air. He turned and re-entered the room.
‘What was that?’ He asked.
He looked to Darrius who shrugged. ‘I didn’t hear anything. Uhh, Sir.’
He looked to the other guard who had, in a move that marked him out as someone who knew the sensible choice, drawn his sword. ‘The corpse, sir. It spoke.’
‘Well, Corporal?’
‘Hmm?’ was Lucian’s brilliant response. He quickly rallied and continued. ‘Oh, yes, the corpse did make a noise. Definitely didn’t speak though, that’s crazy, I recommend that guard get his ears checked.’
The Lieutenant drew his sword. ‘And this doesn’t concern you?!’ He had elevated his mood from bored to panicked, in the official manner of someone realising his slack attitude might actually have consequences. Garadan prepared to make a speedy entrance if things turned nasty. He thought he’d lost his patient before, and he wouldn’t let it happen again! There was still hope.
‘Oh, no, Sir. Corpses often have escaping gas. Phantom movements. I checked him thoroughly before you came in. He’s definitely dead.’
‘I’m feeling much better actually,’ the wounded man said brightly.
Garadan decided that he had, in fact, given too much Emperor’s Light, and the man was probably so far out of it, the concept that just because he was a rebel surrounded by Empire forces, didn’t really concern him.
The Lieutenant and guard already had their weapons drawn. The only thing that saved Lucian and Darrius from being shredded was that, despite the evidence, the idea of a fraternal member turning on his fellows, was a tough pill to swallow. It gave Garadan’s friends enough time to draw their swords.
Garadan knew Darrius could handle himself, possibly even against both of the opponents. But he wasn’t sure how much his injuries would restrict him. Lucian was a wild card. He’d seen the man shoot a wolf through the eye with poor lighting at fifty paces, but also seen him trip before reaching the enemy. It could go either way.
‘Rebel symp—' the Lieutenant started shouting, but was quickly cut off by Darrius tackling him to the ground. Knowing Darrius, he wouldn’t use his weapon on members of the Empire unless he absolutely had to. Also the tackle stopped the shout, whereas a stab would have made it louder.
The other guard, once again showing his natural talent for staying alive, ran for the door. Summoning more guards made much more sense than trying his hand at an equal fight.
Lucian jumped for him and just managed to grab the back of his collar, yanking him back into the room with a wet “gurk” sound.
As this could go many ways depending on whether anyone else came in, and since Darrius and Lucian seemed to have gotten things under control, Garadan decided to stay hidden a bit longer.
Darrius was scuffling with the Lieutenant on the floor, trying to clamp his mouth shut instead of hurting him.
‘Stay quiet! I don’t want to hurt you,’ Lucian whispered loudly, as the guard stumbled back towards the privy door, hugging the wall by instinct, stopping anyone from getting on that side of him. He would have made a good guardsman if he hadn’t been hugging that specific wall at that specific time, Garadan thought to himself.
For that wall had Khleb hiding in it. A man famous among those that knew him for his lack of sympathy. His lack of caring. The complete lack of value that he placed, not just on Human life, but all life. In some situations he was invaluable. In others, he could make you seriously reconsider the adventurer’s lifestyle.
Like a spider sensing a fly in its web, Khleb launched his trap. At least it was quick. His complete lack of scruples meant that he’d never even consider pulling a blow, even subconsciously like many do. A dagger in a gloved hand darted out from behind a wooden panel, burying itself to the hilt just above the guard’s ear.
Khleb slid from his hiding place, second dagger in his hand, ready for more.
Lucian jumped. ‘Gods! Why is everyone here?!’
He whispered loud enough for all to hear. ‘I'd think Jess was under the bed if I hadn’t already checked.’
After a moment to let everyone know that he was shocked, he turned and closed the door. Khleb stalked to the Lieutenant, but at a lethal glance from Lucian didn’t kill him. He produced a rag from his pocket and gagged the man instead.
Garadan motioned for Rambles to step out.
Of course in the blackness of the small room, Rambles didn’t see it, and so Garadan opened the door and pushed him forward.
The Lieutenant saw two more people join the party and his eyes widened as his feet scrabbled at the floor to get away from them.
Interestingly, his eyes were on Rambles, not Garadan, who had yet to meet a taller or broader person, aside from Moxar, in this city. It occurred to Garadan that he didn’t actually know what these rebels had done. And from the conversation, there was a third running around too. There was barely enough room to move as it was, so he hoped no one else would turn up.
The Lieutenant was talking through the gag, but a dagger pointed in the general vicinity of his face stopped him.
‘Thank you. Keep him quiet,’ Lucian said to Khleb. ‘Now, what the Gods is going on?’
Khleb shrugged and pointed at Garadan. ‘I was just here to see him.’
‘I live here,’ Garadan said, after Khleb pointed accusingly.
‘How’s it going?’ Darrius asked Garadan.
Garadan always enjoyed visits from Darrius, and playing with his kids reminded him of home. Sadly he hadn’t managed to get round to Darrius' house this break. But a genuine smile spread across Garadan’s face. ‘I good. Keeping quiet. Till this.’
‘Yes, it does seem a bit of trouble for—'
‘Let’s stay focused!’ Lucian snapped, and Garadan supposed he had a point. ‘Right, Gar, it’s your house, why have we followed two of the rebels to it?’
‘I come home from market. This one bleed. I tend him.’ Garadan felt that covered everything pretty succinctly, but added, ‘No ask question.’
‘Why can’t I ask you questions?’
Garadan sighed inwardly. Such a silly language they spoke in the Empire. ‘I did no ask them questions.’ It took a bit of thinking but he thought he got that correct.
‘Right. You, name?’ Lucian pointed at Rambles and got the expected response. ‘Okay, Rambles, we've just tracked you to here. The home of my friend. Why?’
‘Flynn got hit. Khleb had told me about a guy he knew when we were working together.’
‘Okay. Khleb, you’re working for the Rebel Alliance now?’
‘Easy money, boss.’
‘Great. Super. Fine,’ Lucian said, getting progressively less of each emotion he said, and looked back to Rambles. ‘I don’t much like you rebels. Burned down a building or two I liked. But, it looks like we've got to help you out of here to help my friends. Are you ready?’
Rambles nodded.
‘Gar, is there a back door?’
Garadan looked around the now very cramped room theatrically.
‘All right, all right. Just making sure. Okay, so we'll tie you up and drag you out, and if anyone asks we're taking you to prison. Simple.’
‘I hate to be a bother,’ Darrius said. ‘But at this point, why don’t we just really take him to prison?’
‘I'll put up a fight. Won’t let you tie me up. Just generally cause you grief,’ Rambles said.
‘That’s fair. But once you’re tied up... We could just take you—'
‘Darrius! Come on!’ Lucian was clearly feeling the stress of command in the guard. ‘Tie him up and let’s go.’
While tying Rambles up, Darrius asked him, ‘What did you actually do? They don’t tell us anything aside from “if you see a rebel, kill it”.’
‘Oh, nothing, just generally being a rebel,’ Rambles said.
‘We assassinated the Captain of the guard, some pretty Elf boy,’ Flynn said. This also reminded everyone that they needed to deal with him as well.
‘Shhh,’ Rambles hushed him.
‘I hate to say it, sir, but that’s a confession. We could just kill them here. Not that I'd do that, of course. Just pointing it out.’
‘Well thank you very much for making the situation more awkward than it already is.’ Lucian was nearing the end of his tether. ‘Garadan, can he be moved?’
‘No.’
‘I guess he stays here then.’
‘Well if he’s not going, neither am I,’ Rambles insisted.
‘Oh come on...’ Lucian sighed. ‘Okay, change of plans. They both stay here, and me and Darrius stand guard outside all night, telling any other guardsmen that the house has been searched. Okay?’
The Lieutenant mumbled something. Reminding everyone that he was there.
‘Oh for... Well that’s fine, he can just stay in here till the morning as well.’
‘After that?’ Garadan asked. Everyone else seemed so off their game that he needed to ask basic questions. ‘Kill?’
Lucian wagged his finger at Khleb, who looked delighted at the idea as the Lieutenant screeched through his gag. ‘No, we can’t kill him. He’s pretty lazy and incompetent. A complete glory hog. But he’s not a bad person. He lives.’
‘But it would make everything so much simpler, boss,’ Khleb complained.
‘Is true. But not need,’ Garadan said to Khleb, who took this news as if he’d never heard it before.
‘Again, he lives.’ Lucian was adamant.
‘I’m not advocating anything, but if we leave him alive, eventually he will report all of us,’ Darrius said.
‘Yeah. Ideas?’ Lucian threw the floor open to everyone.
After a few seconds Garadan spoke up. ‘I have idea. May work. May not. We find out soon.’
‘Well?’
Garadan turned to the Lieutenant. ‘Change of career.’
Chapter 23
‘Nothing too troubling, I hope?’ Lord Orson asked.
‘One or two of the group had it worse than me,’ Lucian said, 'but we're all still capable and raring to go, sir. I can’t say as much for the Mouths and the Legs, sadly.’
‘Shame about that, yes. Anyway, good to hear your lot is doing well.’ His face spread into a grin that reminded Lucian of a kind old stranger. A kind old stranger whose mental faculties could go either way depending on the time of day.
Lucian was back in the Company’s great tower, the dragonbone desk still resplendent. Lucian had a feeling that it was only there to remind him, or anyone else, of just how much they had to gain from doing what Lord Orson wanted.
Although after seeing the sparkling veins of the God shard caverns, it wasn’t quite as captivating as three months ago. And the flagstones used for the walls, clearly scrubbed to a near shine everyday, paled in comparison to the wonders of Malum’s sedimentary artwork. And wooden floors? How quaint.
The room seemed no longer the pinnacle of what he could achieve. But Lucian had never been motivated by a fancy office, and disliked being controlled by the person inside it. He enjoyed the adventure. He didn’t need the latest goose feather pillows and quilt to be comfortable. He needed the rocky ground and the open air. Although, on that thought, a kink that had been bugging Lucian’s shoulder had suddenly cleared up a few nights after getting back from the journey.
No, nothing in the office interested Lucian. A display of wealth that could only be described as gaudy. Apart from one thing. To one side of where Lord Orson was writing, there lay a rolled up piece of parchment. Held together with a vibrant red ribbon. The colour of the parchment marked it out as being a Quest. Depending on how the light caught it, it shimmered between gold and silver. An official Quest, only given to Heroes.
Was this it? Was Lucian about to receive his first Quest?
‘And your commerce break? Exciting?’ Orson enquired.
The small talk was unbearable, and Lucian had to focus hard to not stare at the Quest.
‘I managed to keep myself busy, sir. Rebels burned down my previous training house, but I... pivoted.’
‘Pivoted? Hah! Good job, boy, good job.’ Lucian could tell Lord Orson was about to reminisce. ‘Do you know how long I’ve been in charge of this Company? We had to pivot once early on, but I do love the thrill of business, don’t you?’
‘Very enjoyable, sir.’ Lucian decided to humour him. ‘You should get back to it. What was your pivot?’
‘Hmm? Oh, I can hardly remember. Apparently the demand for corpses slain by heroes was grossly overestimated. Stories sell much better.’
‘I’ve been a bit preoccupied since getting back. How is the latest story going?’ Lucian asked.
‘Still early days, of course. Our business is all about longevity, however initial reports are solid.’ Orson waved a hand dismissively as if he didn’t really care about such things. ‘But of course, it was a Moxar story. People can’t get enough of him. Throw in a villain powered by a God, and the masses were bound to eat it up. And there were no deviations from the assignments we gave you, of course, so it must have been an easy job for your lot.’
Lucian considered saying something, but the lure of that Quest was too strong. He stayed silent. He really wished Lord Orson had offered him
a seat - after that many flights of stairs his legs needed a rest.
Lord Orson went back to his paperwork, ignoring Lucian. There was an awkward silence for a minute or so. Then Lucian realised that he was trying to play a game with the man who probably invented the game, so he had to talk first. ‘About the last time we spoke, sir?’
‘Yes?’
‘You, uhh, something about being a Hero...’ Lucian trailed off.
‘Oh yes, it almost slipped my mind!’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I don’t get many people up here. Must have gotten carried away with the conversation.’
He went back to writing.
Lucian couldn’t tell if this was some tactic in the game of conversation and business that he just didn’t understand, or if, perhaps, Lord Orson really was past his prime, so to speak. Lucian cleared his throat.
Orson looked up, slid the Quest towards Lucian and tapped it with his pen.
Lucian was a bit disheartened. Honestly, he felt that there would have been a bit more majesty to becoming a Hero and receiving his first official Quest. Had there ever been spies following his every move? What about the other wannabe Heroes?
‘Oh, sorry, boy.’ Lord Orson seemed to remember some long gone requirement. He stood up and took the Quest in both hands. ‘Been a long time since I’ve personally given someone a Quest. Especially their first one.’
This was more like it, Lucian thought, and couldn’t hide the smile from his face.
‘Lucian... umm—'
‘Huxley, sir.’
‘Right. Lucian Huxley. Are you ready to strive for more—'
‘Yes!’ Lucian said.
‘Not yet, boy. Let me finish.’ Orson said. ‘Are you ready to become not just better, but the best? Are you ready to stand up for the rights of the innocent?’ He paused and looked at Lucian expectantly.