Tribe Master 5: A Fantasy Harem Adventure

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Tribe Master 5: A Fantasy Harem Adventure Page 3

by Noah Layton

‘Interesting…’ I mused, tapping my chin. ‘And north-east?’

  My people looked amongst themselves, searching for answers, but found none. Not until-

  ‘I would perhaps know,’ the warrior present said, stepping forward. She was a hardened woman in her late 30s, with rough features and her dark hair tied back tightly. Her eyelids blinked in their usual fashion, quickly flitting horizontally as she found my gaze.

  ‘You’ve been that way?’ I asked.

  ‘I have not,’ she replied, looking deeply into the map before returning to me. ‘But my people heard things after we were captured by… Him.’

  Him was Silas Garrison. He was a dark-elf that had been present at The Market where slaves were traded. Not only had I undercut him for the satyrs whom I had given freedom to, but I had raided one of his caravans with my companions along the northern road, killed members of a mercenary gang transporting them, and stolen his so-called produce from right under his nose, leaving behind nothing but corpses, emptied cages and missing horses.

  He was a dangerously calm and psychotic tribe master who possessed plenty of resources, and was obsessed with acquiring more.

  ‘Garrison,’ I confirmed. ‘He said something? Is that where his tribe is located?’

  ‘I cannot say, but I would wager that they are somewhere out there in the north. It is more remote than other areas, a secluded section of land. That is why he likes it – he is far from his surroundings, but close enough to other tribes that he can carry out attacks in the event that he wishes to… And after he took our land, we know that he wishes to.

  ‘Unfortunately I cannot inform you of the specifics. We were blindfolded for much of our journey after his people captured us.’

  I looked at the blank section of the map to the north-east, pushing my hands through the blue hologram and resting on the stone slab.

  ‘That bastard is out there somewhere,’ I said. ‘Could he really be responsible for something like this?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ Ariadne said. ‘Not only did we raid a caravan of his and steal thousands of gold pieces in ‘produce’ from him-’ Ariadne gave the warrior present a nod, which she formally returned, ‘-but we also killed a lot of the mercenaries that he hired. At the very least he’s going to be pissed off. If I were a greedy tribe master like him, I would be laying waste to everything in my path to regain what I had lost.’

  ‘That’s a good point. We know he’s capable, and after having met him myself, I know that he’s the type to do something like this. He doesn’t like people touching his things, after all.’

  ‘If that’s the case I wonder if he’s even married,’ Lara frowned. ‘Or sexually frustrated? Maybe he’s just taking it out on the land around him.’

  ‘He’s a top contender for the role of attacker, that’s what we know. That being said, there could be plenty of other tribes east of here that would want to try their hand at moving west and taking over other tri-’

  I didn’t get a chance to finish.

  Another xevea alarm suddenly sounded.

  My head spun like a top towards the door the moment it rang out.

  Again?

  I bounded out of the Map Room and looked instinctively to the south.

  It wasn’t coming from there.

  ‘Jack!’

  I turned at Santana’s command. Her red hair spun in the cold air as she pointed to the north.

  A satyr on watch was waving his arms in our direction frantically, emptying his lungs into the beak.

  ‘Look after Oden,’ I called to Tormus and Eri as I rushed north. ‘Girls, get back to the treehouse.’

  ‘We’re not leaving you, husband,’ Lara said firmly, retrieving her bow. ‘This is our land. Let’s get moving.’

  Not a single one of them faltered, even Santana who rarely fought anymore.

  I had to give it to them – they were killers on the battlefield and always working together.

  We and the single warrior present sprinted through the snowy crop fields to the north, and found ourselves quickly joined by the rest of the warriors.

  ‘What is it?’ I called up to him.

  ‘Visitors,’ he called down frantically.

  ‘The sun-elves?’

  ‘No… I do not recognize these people.’

  ‘Are they a threat?’

  ‘I cannot say, Master Jack… But they do not look it.’

  I signaled Ariadne and Lara to join the satyr in the watchtower. They were my ranged attackers, and they could strike down any threat from above without hesitation with the use of their respective bow and throwing knives.

  Talia and Elera, remained with myself and the warriors.

  Ariadne and Lara crept into place, staying low and out of sight on the platform. Lara readied an arrow in her bow, steadied herself, then stood sharply and aimed at her target.

  ‘Who goes there?’ She yelled down sternly.

  Hell, even I wanted to declare who I was with a commanding tone like that.

  We all listened, only the breeze of the winter air whispering past our ears.

  An inaudible voice sounded alongside it, carried away by the wind. It was weak.

  I looked to Lara. She kept her bow raised, but then her grip relaxed on the fletching of the arrow.

  Not to fire, but to withdraw the shot.

  She peaked further over the fence, looking about the forest for any other figures.

  Then, slowly, she lowered her bow.

  ‘Can you hear anything?’ She asked Ariadne, whose sense of sound was greater than Lara’s own.

  Ariadne closed her eyes and listened for the sounds that only she could hear.

  Finally she shook her head.

  ‘Open the gates,’ Lara spoke down to me with a nod.

  I trusted my huntress’s judgement; she hadn’t remained alive this long working solo in this world without razor-sharp instincts.

  Two of the warriors moved forward to the gate and lifted the huge wooden bar that blocked it, shifting aside.

  I approached the gate myself, taking the brunt of what little risk was left in this simple but important action, and heaved the handles, opening the entrance to my land.

  Behind me I had heard the sound of Elera’s frost magic readying in her hands, felt the presence of Talia’s fighting stance, swords and bows readied in the deadly palms of the warriors.

  But none of it was needed.

  Huddled together by the crack of the door, as if desperate to clamber beyond our border more than anything, were five small figures.

  There were many beings in Agraria, some of which I had never even heard of in fantasy books before I had arrived here, but the moment I set eyes on our visitors I knew who I was looking at.

  They were dwarves, and they were in a bad way.

  One led the group, standing ahead of four others. They were all wrapped up in heavy shawls, their faces the only things that could be seen beneath them.

  Pleading eyes looked back at me from behind layers of winter clothes and scarves practically frozen solid with frost.

  ‘Please help us.’

  Chapter Three

  The primary members of my tribe were my closest advisors, but beyond them names become blurred – I couldn’t remember every one of the warriors’ names, or the satyrs or the fox-people.

  As a tribe master I addressed the leader of the group that I was speaking to, and one always stepped forward. The same went for those who didn’t belong to my tribe.

  In this case, it was a female dwarf by the name of Onilsia.

  I elected to let her speak, right after she had finished devouring her fourth bowl of soup in the shack to the east of my land.

  It was the same building I had used to keep the goblin Morok tied up in after finding him on Werger’s land – thankfully I hadn’t torn it down before now.

  ‘Forgive me, lad,’ she finally spoke in an accent somewhat similar to Scottish. ‘We have not eaten for days.’

  Of course, I tried to hid
e my shock – I only realized that she was a woman when she began to speak.

  Hidden beneath skin stained with cuts, bruises and mud, it was practically impossible to tell.

  ‘You don’t need to apologize,’ I replied. ‘I can tell you’ve been on the road for some time.’

  ‘On the road? Not at all. We have been trekking through the wilds since yesterday in search of assistance.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  The dwarf hesitated, setting down her empty bowl.

  ‘We were attacked,’ she said, almost with a hint of shame in her voice. ‘They came at night. We hardly knew what was happening before… Before they had practically overrun us.’

  ‘Who’s they?’

  ‘I do not know. They were masked and well-organized. We figured that they must have set fire to sections of our land after we had departed. We only managed to get out by sheer luck alone. By the time we left…’

  Onilsia paused for a moment, settling her mind.

  Of the few dwarves that I had met in Agraria, all had been relentlessly hardy people. For them to show weakness was strange, but in this instance it was completely understandable.

  They had lost their home, their people, and worst of all their freedom. Their way of life had been eviscerated.

  ‘What happened to your citizens?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘Those who fought back against them were killed; those who relented were captured. I fear that our assailants were slavers… Such a fate may be worse than death.’

  Alorion and I shot each other a look.

  ‘These masked assailants,’ I said, ‘what did they look like exactly? I mean, I know that they were masked, but you must have noticed other features about them. Height? Armor? What kind of weapons were they using?’

  ‘They were tall, lean men. Some of their skin I caught sight of beneath their armor; it was a dark grey, and they carried bows and rapiers.’

  I gulped and glanced at Alorion again out of the corner of my eye.

  ‘Garrison,’ I said. ‘That son of a bitch…’

  ‘You know these beings?’

  While three of the dwarves were sleeping, a spectacle-clad male by Onilsia’s side was listening in, and he asked the question with total bewilderment.

  ‘I’ve met their leader before,’ I replied. ‘Some of our citizens were being sold at market by him before we freed them.’

  ‘Gods,’ Onilsia exclaimed. ‘You have had a conflict with his tribe?’

  ‘Technically not a conflict,’ Alorion hastily cut in, forever the negotiator. ‘Garrison is unaware that we were involved… Yet, at least.’

  ‘He’s a cold-blooded bastard if I ever met one,’ I said firmly, crossing my arms firmly over my chest. ‘I have little doubt he’s responsible for the invasion of your land. He’s known as The Collector to some. Treats everything as a possession – including my wife, who he almost captured.’

  ‘Then you know what he is capable of,’ Onilsia spoke. Her expression of worry changed as she looked up at me. There was more of a confidence in her eyes now, something changing within her that I couldn’t place.

  She was considering something.

  ‘Any reason why he would want to go to the trouble of attacking your land?’ I continued. ‘It’s freezing out there. You know that better than me after the trek that you made to get here. Why now?’

  Onilsia’s eyes searched the empty bowl of soup clasped in her hands. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but the spectacled dwarf next to her quickly put his hand on her wrist in a firm but gentle grasp.

  ‘Why do any slavers seek to attack free peoples?’ He asked. ‘Any time is a good time, as long as this Garrison character saw an opportunity.’

  ‘There’s nothing on your land that he would be particularly interested in?’ I said. ‘Nothing he would want? No offence, but you’re dwarves. I’ve only been in this, uhh… Region of Agraria for a few months, and even I know that your reputation for mining precedes you. Stones, precious metals, gold? You guys were probably great targets.’

  ‘Those are not the only things that we possess,’ Onilsia said reluctantly, drawing her hand away from the spectacled dwarf. ‘We possess something that is of a much greater value than those trinkets that you speak of…’

  ‘No, Onilsia,’ the spectacled dwarf said. ‘We cannot reveal such knowledge to an outsider!’

  ‘We can in circumstances such as this, Thefus,’ she replied with equal sternness. ‘Who would you rather it fall into the hands of? The man who seeks to enslave our people, or the man who feeds and shelters us from the ferocity of the world out there?’

  Thefus opened his mouth as if he wished to continue.

  All that left his lungs was an eventual sigh. He sat back and avoided both our gazes.

  ‘Onilsia,’ I repeated. ‘That’s your name, right?’

  ‘It is, tribe master.’

  ‘I’m Jack.’

  I shook hands with her. Her palms and fingers were as rough as rocks, but her voice was true.

  ‘Pleasure to meet you, Jack.’

  ‘Tell me, what is it that you’re speaking of? If this is something that might fall into the hands of Garrison, then I need to know.’

  Onilsia went to speak, but still she paused, searching for the right words before finally continuing.

  ‘Our tribe, like many dwarven tribes, seeks its wealth in mining, much as you already surmised. We plumb the depths of this world in search of precious metals and stones, not just for practical use but for decorative purpose. The needs of this world are vast, as I am sure a fellow like you knows.

  ‘Master Thirbali, our leader, is just one of many to have overseen our tribe. Like many tribes we have taken on many forms, but no matter what shape or form our people may twist into, there are some legacies that are always passed down, ones that are rumored amongst the people but hidden from sight.

  ‘We have many items of great value residing upon our land. Trinkets, jewels, gold coins and artifacts, but these are folly compared to what I speak of. In our most well-hidden and protected vault, only a single item of value resides. It does not take the form of rubies or emeralds. It is a map.’

  ‘… A map to what?’

  ‘Many years ago, when my kind lived in the hills and mountains in the far north, our people delved further below the earth than any living being had gone – beyond the diamonds and the shimmering stones. Down there, our ancestors discovered a pocket of agrarium.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ Alorion suddenly interrupted. I couldn’t help but glance over at him – it was the first time I had ever heard him take on a sarcastic tone.

  Even he looked shocked at his tone of voice.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked him.

  He briefly glanced at the ceiling and frowned, then returned to me with an expression of realization.

  ‘What she speaks of, agrarium?’ He continued. ‘It is a myth, a legend – such a thing does not exist.’

  ‘It does exist,’ Thefus spoke insistently. ‘It is real.’

  ‘Why do you think it’s fake?’ I asked Alorion.

  ‘Nobody has ever seen agrarium,’ he replied. ‘It is a tale from the age of the gods, the metal that their weapons were said to be crafted from. A substance that was nigh on indestructible, and possessed powers that mortals could barely comprehend. Now, I am a believer in the gods just like anybody in this world is, but to say that your people actually found a pocket of agrarium in the mountains? This I cannot believe.’

  ‘Not only did we find it, imp,’ Onilsia spoke confidently, ‘but we mined it. The substance was returned to our land and given to High Blacksmith Kalgunri, the most skilled dwarven blacksmith to have ever graced Agraria.’

  ‘Oh,’ Alorion cut in, ‘so not only did your ancestors possess a mythical substance that nobody alive has ever even seen, but the greatest blacksmith in the history of Agraria just so happened to be an ancestor of your tribe. Of course he did.’

  ‘Listen to me, imp
-’

  ‘Stop,’ I interrupted them both, holding my hands up. I pointed to Onilsia. ‘You are my guest, but please don’t ever talk to my most trusted advisor like that.’ I turned to Alorion. ‘Let’s let her speak, huh? Then we can discuss the finer details after.’

  Alorion reluctantly agreed.

  ‘As I was saying…’ Onilsia continued, ‘High Blacksmith Kalgunri was given the task of examining the substance and its properties. He was a… divisive figure, as the stories go, but I suppose that all genius comes with eccentricities. He spent many months observing and working upon it in seclusion with his most trusted apprentices, until he announced that his work was complete.’

  ‘And what did he do with it?’ I asked, practically on the edge of my seat.

  ‘No one knows,’ Onilsia sighed. ‘At the unveiling of his creation, he vanished, along with the agrarium and all of his assistants.’

  Alorion and I had spent enough time together for us to practically be able to speak to each other telepathically, so when I turned to look at him and read his expression, all I could see was how fucking convenient stamped all over his face.

  ‘And let me guess,’ I replied. ‘The map in the vault tells the location of the agrarium?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘So let me get this straight: your tribe has access to a map that leads to a treasure of proportions so powerful that it’s practically legend, yet you’ve never bothered to follow the trail yourselves to acquire it?’

  ‘There are stories from previous generations of our kind, ones that the elders have passed on, about members of our tribe who ventured in search of it. None ever returned. It has long been understood amongst our people that hiding its location is a more worthy pursuit than sacrificing any more of our kin in search of it. But these are… Unprecedented times. A different course of action must be taken.’

  I leaned against the shack wall, watching Onilsia. She gazed at me with knowing, unblinking eyes.

  ‘Well…’ I nodded. ‘Either you’re telling the truth or you’re the most convincing liar I’ve met in a good long time.’

  ‘I have no need to lie, tribe master,’ she continued. ‘My land has been taken, and so have my people. I know the kind of man that did what he did to my tribe – he does not seek to nurture and use it. He seeks to pillage and gather and hoard everything of value, and to leave all else in the forest to rot.

 

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