by Deck Davis
From there, he’d moved on every few months, rarely staying in the same place for long. He’d adopted the various guises from a travelling salesman to a parlor-trick magician to a beggar, sometimes appearing in the same town under a different identity. Nobody caught on.
Yet, the assassins’ guild had pursued him for years, he knew. There was no reason for them to stop; the three kings had them on retainer, and the coffers of the kings ran deep.
He’d lived so long under a fog of paranoia that even now, more than two decades later, he couldn’t stop looking from side to side, expecting assassins or agents of the kings to crawl out from the bushes and run at him, blades glinting in the sun, the tips coated in venom.
No. Those days were behind him. He had waited long enough now, and it was time to go back to the guildhouse.
It was time to reclaim what he had left there.
~
“Wow,” said Benjen, as they guided their horses up a stone pathway that led toward the farmer’s field. Joshua couldn’t help but echo the sentiment in his head.
The farmer had told them that the thrips were ravaging his carrot crops. Although he’d never encountered thrips before, Joshua had thought that he knew what a carrot was, at least. Out of all the things he thought he’d be surprised by in this new part of Fortuna, the little orange vegetable wasn’t one of them.
Here, in this square land of carefully-cultivated dirt, hundreds of carrots poked out through the ground, but they weren’t the tiny little things that you’d serve on a plate; they were each at least four feet tall, and that was just the parts of them that stuck up from the soil.
Who knew how deep the veggies burrowed into the earth? Not only that, but they were a wide range of colors from orange to purple to green. A rabbit would have had the time of his life here, were it not for the vicious creatures swarming around.
“You could feed an army from this crop,” said Benjen.
“This must be your idea of heaven, all those veggies.”
“Not really, Joshy. I don’t eat meat, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it sometimes. Like when I watch you eat a steak, a really juicy one, and sometimes it’s hard to stop myself just grabbing it from your plate and taking a bite.”
“As long as you keep your table manners, I’m happy.”
Joshua tried to keep his tone light, but his stomach was slowly turning to water, and he felt a buzz of anxiety shudder through him.
This was brought on by his first sighting of the thrips. And, just like he’d been unaware of the size of carrots in this part of the world, he’d also been blissfully ignorant of the size of its insects, too.
These creatures…wow. Had he been observing from this distance without knowing that he’d have to try and drive them away, he’d have almost enjoyed it, since his zoologist class always sparked an interest in him when he saw new wildlife. It was one thing to just observe, though, and another to imagine fighting the things.
Even the smallest of them were the size of his fist, and some of the largest, ones that had thick bodies and were covered in fuzz, were bigger than pumpkins. And the sound - it was horrendous.
At first, Joshua had thought it was his own pulse thudding in his ears, but he realized that it was actually the flapping of dozens of sets of wings, the noise becoming louder and louder the longer he listened to it. It was a buzz so noisy, and so horrible since he knew he’d have to deal with it, that he wanted to put his hands to his ears.
After seeing a thrip for the first time, Joshua’s seeker binding increased to 49, putting him just 1 point away from level 2 and getting a new ability from it. The one-use Eye of the Beholder skill he’d gotten at level 1 was good enough; it’d let him see a person’s classes and skills. What kind of power would level 2 bring? He couldn’t wait to find out.
As well as that, encountering a species of insect that was new to him had increased the natural awareness skill in his zoologist class from 3 to 4, and from now on he’d know if any thrips were nearby. Looking at how deadly the insects seemed he hoped he’d never need to know that any were nearby, but the boost was a good one to have.
“Don’t suppose you’ve decided that some creatures are okay to kill, after all?” he said.
Benjen scratched his beard. “You know if it came down to it, Joshy…”
“I can’t ask you to do that. Forget it.”
“No, I mean, if it was a choice between you or them…”
“I can handle it,” said Joshua.
That was another thing he’d decided; that heroes, no matter how they felt, put on a brave face and they said words that they didn’t really believe.
But Gods, he wished they’d recruited a hero or two already. He couldn’t wait until there were other people, warriors and mages who trained for danger, to do this kind of thing.
Then a thought hit him. He turned to Benjen.
“I just realized something,” he said.
“That you should have trained up to be an accountant like your dad?”
“Well…maybe. But not that. Sitting here, with the way I’m feeling, I just realized that with all our plans to recruit heroes and send them out on quests and stuff, I never really thought about how they’d feel. Or how I’d feel, sending them into danger.”
“It’s part of a hero’s job. It’s what they do, it’s what they train and get paid for. I guess some of them love the danger. Don’t they say that some heroes have a death wish, deep down?”
“Well, I don’t. So, let’s take a second and think how best to do this. Seeing how big the thrips are, I don’t want to charge in with my halberd and get stung to hell.”
“And you’re wearing some of my best shirts…”
“Yeah, with your favorite beer stains on them. Okay, let’s think.”
He reached deep into his mind, where his zoologist knowledge waited. He called it forward, and he tried to remember as much as he could about the nature of wasps, hornets, and other easily-angered stinging creatures.
Well, for one, he knew that they were crafty. Wasps often targeted your head, seeing as how it presented a vulnerable target.
With a shudder, Joshua checked that the hood of his cotton coat was secure on his head. He drew the strings of it, and the material tightened around his face so that only his eyes, nose and lips were showing.
What else was there? Well, playing dead didn’t work, since a wasp on a rampage just wouldn’t stop. Running away, arms flailing, and jumping into a river didn’t deter them either, since they would just wait for you to emerge.
So, an enraged wasp had a thirst for vengeance like no other creature, and not only that, but they were patient, too. They also had a mob mentality; aggravating a single one of them would bring the fury of the swarm upon you.
Gods, this was the last situation he wanted to be in. If it weren’t for the guild and his most-important rule, he’d have high-tailed it back to Ardglass. But he couldn’t let the farmer’s field be ravaged by the insects who were…no, surely not?
He leaned forward to get a better look, and he saw that they were taking bites out of the giant carrots. These insects had teeth as well as stingers. Great.
He wished he had the tamer class. That, coupled with zoologist would have made a powerful combination; he’d have been able to send calming thoughts over to the buzzing pests, and perhaps had lulled them into feeling sleepy.
What else did he have in his armory of classes? Negotiator? Could he broker a peace deal with the thrips, maybe persuade them to flutter away onto pastures new?
No, he could barely barter a better deal from merchants and traders who could actually speak his language. That was the problem here – the language barrier between man and insect. Joshua didn’t speak buzz, or whatever the language of the thrips was called, if they even had one.
Thoughts flashed through his mind then of him and Kordude travelling Fortuna as a linguist and negotiator team, with the old crowsie whispering to insects and animals in their own languages, and Jo
shua casting his negotiator aura, adding weight to the old bird’s words.
But he knew he was just delaying things with these fancies. His mind was doing what it always did when he was stuck with a puzzle or he was anxious or scared. It was running away from him at full gallop.
Focusing on the thrips, he used his calm animals skill, which was part of both his zoologist and horserider classes. A thin fog-like trail of yellow mist drifted from him, and it seeped into the air where the thrips were flying.
Within a second, the mist dispersed, but the thrips seemed more agitated, if anything.
Damn. A novice 6/10 calm animals skill wasn’t going to cut it with these creatures.
The drone of the thrips grew louder now, and Benjen watched them with a wary stare, stroking his beard as the insects swirled in the air, some of them swooping in to tear away more fleshy carrot.
In the dim recesses of Joshua’s mind, though, something nagged at him. It was a thought that he’d already had; something about the behavior of insects like these.
“They’re not going away,” said Benjen. “Maybe we better get to it.”
“I can’t just run at them; they’ll sting me to hell. No, there’s something I’m missing here.”
“Wait,” said Benjen, with a flicker of panic. “See the farmhouse?”
The farmhouse was at the far end of the field. It was a two-story cottage with a thatched roof. The brickwork looked old, and the timber beams crossing it were weathered. There was something nice about it, something homely. Not all houses had that quality; some dwellings looked cold and uninviting, but the farmhouse seemed to almost glow with wholesome energy.
“What about it?” said Joshua.
“Three of the thrips are buzzing in front of it. Oh no. One of them looks like it’s trying to get into the house. Like it’s testing for weaknesses or something.”
A cold dread filled Joshua’s chest. “His wife and kids are inside.”
“We can’t wait, Joshua.”
“You’re right. Damn it. I’m gonna have to try.”
He climbed off Roebuck. If he was going to run into danger through some naïve sense of morals and ill-advised heroism, then he wouldn’t let his old friend get hurt.
Gripping his halberd tight, he lumbered up toward the field, each step made a chore through the layers of clothes that he hoped would serve like a bee-keeping suit and protect him.
He climbed up a slope until he finally reached the field. There, he stood at the edge of it, and he stared at his soon-to-be foes and he felt his throat tighten up.
He looked around him. He knew that a mile east was Ardglass, where Kordude would be sitting on the mule with Gobber’s basket in his lap, and he was taking the farmer to the infirmary. There, in the town, would be the town guards; men who were better equipped to deal with this sort of thing but wouldn’t come to the farmer’s aid because he refused to pay extra taxes.
Next, he looked west, where grassland spread far into the horizon. There were patches of trees in the distance, a grouping of great oaks and ferns with their gangly limbs.
Then he saw it. He saw something stuck to the trunk of one of the trees, and he felt the clues from his zoologist class move into place. The puzzle seemed just that little bit clearer now, and he had a spark of an idea.
Wasps, and insects like them, had a mob mentality. Threaten one of their swarm, and they’d attack as one until the intruder was gone. This didn’t just extend to themselves, though; it extended to their hives, too.
And there, attached to the trunk of an oak tree like a boil, was what he guessed was the thrips’ hive. It was a misshaped lump, wax-like in color and in stark contrast to the natural brown and green of the tree. It looked like a diseased boil, something that had no right to attach itself to the old oak.
He rejoined Benjen, Roebuck, and Firemane at the bottom of the slope. Roebuck trotted toward him and nudged his grey mane against his chest, and Joshua stroked his head.
“Don’t worry, lad, I’m okay.”
“Having second thoughts?” said Benjen.
“And third…and fourth. But no. I think I have something. The thrip hive is about a quarter of a mile away, it’s stuck against a tree. I’m thinking that if we head out west a little and put some distance between us and the hive, we can stir the thrips up a little.”
“How do we do that?”
“Well, you’ve got a good throwing arm. Maybe we toss a few stones at the hive. They have a mob mentality, and they always protect their hive no matter what. At least, that’s what wasps do. We just need them to think that their home is in danger, and that’ll draw them away from the field for a while. After that, I’m sure there are things you can buy in town to treat a hive.”
“Won’t they come after us?”
“We’ll have a head-start, and we’ll be on horseback. On top of that, they won’t actually see us do it, so they won’t even know to head straight for us. It’s the only thing I can think of that doesn’t end with us swollen to hell.”
Joshua climbed onto Roebuck’s saddle and led him away from the farm, taking a wide arc so that the thrips didn’t see them. They headed west, keeping the oak trees and the hive in view, until they were on the other side of it.
They could still see the farm in the distance beyond the trees, and behind it was the farmhouse, where the farmer’s wife and her children waited behind the shut door. He just hoped they could do this before one of the thrips found a way into the house.
He hopped off Roebuck and searched around in the grass until he’d collected a pile of decent-sized rocks. He gave these to Benjen, and then climbed back onto his horse.
“Think you can hit it from here?”
Benjen nodded. “Remember when I used to throw stones at the cherik nest in the tree near the village?”
“I remember it took you a hundred tries to hit it.”
“Well, that was a lot of practice. I wish I hadn’t have done that; I was an idiot back then. This won’t, you know, kill any of the thrips, will it?”
Joshua shook his head. “You won’t destroy the hive by throwing a rock from so far away. We just need to attract their attention to it. You do realize don’t you, Benny, that when we start sending heroes out on quests, they’re going to kill things?”
“I know. Some creatures are dangerous, and there will be no choice. I just don’t want to be the one who does it.”
“Well, let’s see how good your throwing arm really is.”
Benjen gripped a rock in his hand. He wound his arm back and tensed up, and he squinted and took aim.
Then, as he was about to throw it, they saw movement from the farmhouse. The door opened, and a woman ran out.
She was an orc, seven feet tall and with thick arms and legs, and her red hair was tied into a ponytail. She wore brown trousers and a beige shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A brood of children were standing behind her, and even from that distance, Joshua could tell they were half-orc and half-human.
Was that what the farmer said when he told them to watch out for his wife? If so, why bother? It wasn’t so strange to see a family like this, these days. These were enlightened times, and there were all sorts of different families spread across Fortuna, especially in the east.
The orc seemed to have spotted them. She walked away from the house and went right by the field, completely unconcerned about the thrips being just yards away from her.
Thee insects noticed her. One buzzed its way over to the orc, and then others followed.
Joshua’s heart beat a quickening rhythm in his chest. He gripped his halberd.
A dozen thrips surrounded the poor woman now, each hovering just inches away from her. Joshua could feel the tension even from so far away.
Keep still, he said in his head, as if somehow the woman would hear him. No sudden movements, not until I get there.
He gripped Roebuck’s reins. “Damn it. I need to help her.”
Benjen grabbed his arm. “Wait. Look.”
Joshua watched in amazement as one of the thrips flapped toward the orc lady and then landed on her shoulder.
Benjen’s mouth was wide open. It was like his expression had been frozen. “What the hell?” he said.
The thrips separated away from the woman and then flew away, arcing over the roof of the cottage and disappearing from view. The orc woman walked away from the field and headed toward them, and then she stopped. She waved her arms in the air and shouted something, but Joshua could hear her properly.
“What’s she saying?”
“I think she’s trying to stop you throwing the rock,” said Joshua.
“They weren’t stinging her. This is just…I don’t even know what on Fortuna this is.”
Joshua felt the same incredulity spreading through his mind. He grabbed Roebuck’s reins. “I think we had better find out.”
Chapter Twenty
As they reached the orc lady, a humming sound drifted from behind the cottage, growing louder by the second until soon a formation of thrips swooped over the roof and then dove downwards, finally straightening up in front of the woman.
Joshua pulled Roebuck to a stop. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The thrips, twelve of them, were hovering in a horizontal line with a foot of space between them, forming an insectoid barrier in front of the orc.
They buzzed with menace, and up-close Joshua saw how black and bulging their eyes were, and he saw the pollen stuck to their furry bodies. The way they hovered was undoubtably a stance of aggression; their bulbous behinds were curved out, displaying their stingers to Joshua and Benjen.
He didn’t need to be able to speak to the thrips to know what they were saying; stay away from the orc.
Who was he to argue with a line of militarized, mutated hornets? He would have gladly turned Roebuck around and left, since the woman obviously wasn’t in danger, but he didn’t think it would be so easy. The question floating around his head now was, is this a trap?
Beside him, Benjen held Firemane’s reins tightly, and his glance went from the thrips to the orc and then back again, before finally settling on Joshua. This was how it usually went; when Benjen was in any kind of trouble and couldn’t see a clear way out, he’d turn to Joshua.