Tribe Master 5: A Fantasy Harem Adventure

by Noah Layton

  ‘Could you just tell me?’

  ‘… If it is not done correctly, a blade descends from a hidden compartment and will cleave your hand from your wrist.’

  I drew a deep breath, seeing the cascading air leaving my lungs.

  I shuddered, but not at the cold.

  ‘So that’s all,’ I said with quiet sarcasm, looking down at my hands. This wasn’t just a scar that could be healed with potions and some love from my wives.

  Things grew fast in Agraria, but I doubted that my hand would grow back.

  ‘Now you see why so few people are willing to try to access it, even if they know its location.’

  ‘And you know the sequence of the key, Onilsia?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Wait, Jack,’ Lara interrupted. ‘You’re not seriously thinking of doing this, are you? What if you lose your hand?’

  ‘If we don’t do something then Garrison could acquire the map. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but eventually he’ll get it, and when he does, he could have power in his hands that we won’t be able to match, even if we muster the strength of our whole tribe and that of the sun-elves. If he gets it… We’re dead anyway.’

  Lara gulped and nodded.

  ‘Yeah… You’re right. So how do we do this?’

  ‘Where’s the key?’ I asked Onilsia.

  ‘There are several. Our master and his advisors all carry one. I feared capture when they first arrived, so I hid mine in a lockbox in a hole beneath the foundations of my home.’

  ‘Well that’s… Not terrible,’ I frowned ‘Okay, first we need to lure a guard out of there to see what they know.’

  ***

  From observing the dark-elves’ movements on the land, I quickly surmised a fatal flaw in their strategies.

  While they might have been a force to be reckoned with when invading a land, the aftermath of a battle caused them to become sloppy.

  Not only that, but they were no longer operating as a unit. They were too divided, too individual, either in groups of two or three, or searching the land alone.

  They weren’t coordinated enough, and they had let their guard down.

  This was where our opportunity would arise.

  It didn’t take long for one of the lone dark-elf guards to patrol a spot at the edge of the forest, just twenty yards from where we had been keeping watch.

  At that precise moment, a rustling sounded in the trees.

  The elf looked to the forest frantically, reaching for the handle of his rapier but not yet drawing it.

  He moved into the tree line and paused.

  More rustling in the undergrowth ahead.

  To our luck, he rushed forwards through the snowy bushes and emerged into a small clearing, where he laid eyes on Onilsia.

  At that precise moment, Ariadne and I emerged from our hiding places and pressed our blades to his neck.

  ‘Don’t call for help,’ I said sternly, keeping my blade pressed tight to his Adam’s Apple while Ariadne did the same against the point here his spine met his skull. ‘And don’t make a move, aside from dropping your sword.’

  The dark-elf exhaled with repressed rage before unclipping his belt and letting it fall to the ground around his ankles.

  ‘Who are you people?’ He started. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Who we are is none of your concern,’ Ariadne replied. ‘And what we want is where you come in. Time to have a little chat.’

  God, I loved her.

  Ariadne quickly secured his wrists behind his back, tying them tightly. I guided him over to a felled trunk just before the tree line and knocked the heel of my boot hard against the back of his knee.

  The elf sank to the ground with a grunt, and I kicked him up against the trunk.

  ‘Listen carefully,’ I started from behind the cowl covering the bottom half of my face. ‘We’re looking for something. I think you know what.’

  ‘I am not speaking a word to you heathens.’

  ‘Heathens?’ I repeated with a shrug. ‘Maybe. Quick question – which hand do you hold a sword with?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m wondering which hand to start cutting fingers from first.’

  The elf glared back at me.

  ‘Fine,’ he conceded. ‘What do you wish to know?’

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Drevi.’

  ‘And what are your people searching for, Drevi?’

  ‘We do not know. We have only been told that we are seeking something precious.’

  ‘And have you found it?’

  ‘No, not that I know of.’

  I exchanged a nod with Ariadne.

  ‘Okay,’ I started. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go to that building over there, the collapsed one just to the east of the tree. Behind the house you’re going to find a hole. In that hole there’s a lockbox. You’re going to bring it to me. Do that and I won’t kill you.’

  The dark-elf looked between Ariadne and I in confusion.

  ‘… That is it?’ He said. I could see him trying not to hold back a smirk at the sheer luck of his situation. ‘Very well. I shall retrieve it for you, if it means that you will not kill me.’

  ‘Great,’ I smiled, moving to untie him before pausing. ‘Oh, there’s one more thing,’ I continued casually. ‘I know right now you’re probably thinking how stupid can these people be? They’re just going to let me return to the rest of my heavily-armed buddies without a shred of leverage on their part? Well, unfortunately for you, I do have plenty of leverage.’

  I whistled a short but distinctive tune.

  An arrow from above suddenly slammed into the ground between the dark-elves legs. He looked down at it and gulped.

  ‘See, I’m not that much of a bad guy,’ I smiled sardonically. ‘If I were, I would’ve let that arrow go straight through your kneecap.’

  The dark-elf looked into the trees sharply. He tried to find the source of the arrow, but it was to no avail.

  ‘Who…?’ He asked pointlessly.

  ‘That’s just one of my archers,’ I said, before letting off another whistle.

  Another arrow hit the earth by my side. I didn’t even flinch, but our hostage did.

  ‘How are you doing this?’

  ‘Because, Drevi, I have no less than 20 archers hidden in the trees around this land,’ I lied. ‘You might think of your kind as disciplined and skilled, but mine are on a whole other level. They’re loyal to me, and I’d trust them with my life. Why else do you think I would let them put an arrow into the ground just a few feet from my spine?’

  Drevi stared into my eyes.

  ‘You lie, human.’

  ‘Do you really want to find out?’

  The glare continued.

  ‘If you have so many archers why not just kill us now?’

  ‘I don’t like spilling blood unnecessarily, even when dealing with assholes like you.’

  ‘And if I don’t get it for you?’

  I whistled again. Another arrow struck the ground between Drevi’s legs, much closer to his groin this time.

  ‘I don’t pretend to know what a man value’s most in his life. But that isn’t what I’m threatening. I’m threatening this.’

  I tapped Drevi on the temple hard. He grimaced, flinching away from my finger uncomfortably.

  ‘If you think that hurt, you’re going to hate it I give the signal to my archers and they put an arrow through the heads of all of your companions simultaneously. Like I said, I don’t like spilling blood needlessly, but I won’t hesitate to give the signal if I have to.’

  Drevi glared at me. He wasn’t calling me on my bullshit; instead he was trying to get a read on my face.

  I didn’t flinch in the slightest.

  ‘Now, I can tell how steeped in doubt you are,’ I said. ‘Your men are looking for something of value. They’re not going to find it. I am, and you’re going to get me what I need to access it. Feel free to think that I’m bl
uffing, but consider your options.’

  Drevi thought a little more.

  ‘And what about me? You’ll let me go once I return this precious key of yours?’

  ‘I mean…’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  Our conversation so far had only been short, but after my previous experience with Garrison and his men, and this conversation now, I could tell their priorities.

  They were skilled fighters. Their reactions and movements were quick and graceful. They weren’t used to being bested like this.

  And that meant they didn’t often consider the prospect of death.

  Looking at Drevi now I could tell that he was wondering what was on the other side for the first time in a long time, if ever.

  The thought was practically making him squirm.

  ‘Very well. I shall do what you ask.’

  I untied the elf and allowed him to straighten up his appearance.

  I didn’t care how disciplined the dark-elves seemed to be in the way they conducted themselves; I knew what to expect from his body language.

  If he was intent on betraying me, our temporarily freed hostage would have raced back to his companions the moment he was free.

  But he didn’t – instead he scanned the land and returned carefully.

  ‘You really think he’s going to come back with the key?’ Ariadne asked.

  ‘I’m counting on it,’ I replied. ‘But I’ll still be holding my breath in the meantime.’

  Lara, Talia and the warriors remained hidden in the trees while we waited with bated breath. I traced the path of the elf in the meantime as he moved in and out of sight, and ten minutes later I finally caught sight of him returning.

  He played it as if he was patrolling the land, so his comrades wouldn’t be any the wiser to his small betrayal.

  He returned to us unseen, and upon arriving in the small clearing produced the lockbox from his inventory.

  ‘Put it on the ground and step back,’ I commanded sternly.

  The dark-elf did as he was told.

  Lara, Talia and the bow-wielding warriors emerged from the forest nearby with their weapons raised, approaching the dark-elf from opposing sides. He quickly caught sight of them and raised his hands.

  ‘Keep an eye on him,’ I nodded to them before approaching the box.

  I lifted the lid carefully and found the key sitting in the cushioned innards.

  Onilsia hobbled to my side. I lowered the box to suit her small stature.

  She laid eyes on the key, then looked to me and nodded. I handed it to her.

  ‘So that is it?’ The dark-elf said. ‘We are done?’

  ‘Almost,’ I replied, pacing towards him quickly and drawing my sword.

  I swung my blade in a wide, horizontal arc, cleaving the dark-elf’s head from his shoulders.

  Both parts of him collapsed into the snow, unmoving.

  I hardly lost my breath.

  ‘That’s for the dead warrior at The Market,’ I said firmly, cleaning my sword off in the snow. ‘And the dwarven people.’

  I wanted to negotiate with other tribes before being pushed to cut their throats, but that didn’t apply to Garrison and his elves.

  With them there was one rule; kill first and ask questions later.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, sheathing my sword and turning to Onilsia. ‘Teach me the sequence.’

  ***

  My group moved quickly through the forest, arcing around the border until we reached the point that was closest to the blacksmith’s building.

  ‘Three, Eighteen, Sixteen, Nine, Two… Three, Eighteen, Sixteen, Nine, Two…’

  ‘Remember that the first click is sensitive,’ my dwarf companion emphasized. ‘It will happen faster than you think. Don’t listen for it – feel.’

  ‘Any other advice?’

  ‘Gods…’ She thought. ‘Relax, take your time… And if worse comes to worst, don’t scream. Fighting with one hand against so many of these dark-elves will spell certain death. There should be some blankets down there that you can use to cover your wrist so that you don’t spill too much blood in case…’

  I drew another breath and nodded, accepting the reality of the situation.

  And in realizing reality, I made another choice.

  I unclipped my sword and my dagger from my belt and dropped them into my inventory.

  ‘You wish to go unarmed, husband?’ She said in confusion.

  ‘If I get caught they’re all going to come running,’ I opined. ‘You might be able to take out a few at range, and if I’m lucky I can kill one or two, but they’ll overwhelm me within seconds. It’s just dead weight.’

  I nodded to my companions and turned to the tribal land.

  Just dead weight, I thought, looking down at my hands.

  My group fell silent as we watched the rotations of the dark-elf soldiers.

  I needed a twenty second window to get to the building unseen.

  Wait, wait…

  The window of opportunity opened. None of them were looking our way.

  Now.

  I broke from the tree line and dashed through the land, moving as quickly and as quietly as I could while desperately trying to remain as low as possible.

  I could see three of the dark-elves from where I was running. All it would take was for one of them to turn and see me, and my cover would be blown.

  Relief washed over me as I moved behind the wall of the blacksmith’s, backing up against the roughly cobbled stonework that comprised its outer wall.

  I glanced both ways, then pulled open one of the wooden shutters that covered the windows.

  It creaked teasingly as I moved it. The wind thankfully masked the sound from the ears of my enemies, giving me the chance to open it wide and climb through.

  The innards of the building were just as cold as the outside. Like the other buildings this one had been ransacked, and all manner of tools and old weapons cast about the place.

  The front door was closed, offering me the chance to quickly find the steps that descended into the storeroom underground.

  I hurried down them, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have already been down there.

  Thankfully I was alone.

  The storeroom was in a similar state of disarray to that of the workshop above, but the anvil that I was looking for, which was hidden on the other side of the room by a workbench, hadn’t been shifted.

  The reason was obvious – it was too heavy and too inconspicuous to have any attention paid to it. Dull and grey, it must have weighed at least 200 pounds.

  It was the perfect place to hide something.

  I pulled off my gloves and rolled up my sleeves, adjusting my grip on the hunk of iron before readying myself and lifting with my legs.

  My whole body strained with the pressure of the weight. My teeth felt like they were about to shatter before it finally budged, scraping to an empty neighboring spot.

  When I had finally dislodged it completely, I had to stop myself from collapsing onto my ass.

  It had been worth it, though.

  Regaining my composure, I leaned forwards and looked into the spot that the anvil had been covering.

  A thick iron panel was covering something. I opened it on its hinge to discover a hole that narrowed like the inside of a cone, becoming darker and darker until it halted at a pipe just wide enough for a hand to fit through.

  The vault.

  Happiness and reluctance hit me immediately.

  Onilsia had been telling the truth, at least about the existence of something valuable.

  But the price was a damned high one.

  I have to do this.

  I raised my hands and looked at them both in a way that I never had.

  Who considers the nature of their own hands, really? Most people have them from the moment they’re born. Nobody thinks about them.

  But now I had to choose which one to risk.

  My right was my dominant and therefore the one I valued more if I had
to choose.

  The only problem was that if I used my left, I risked possessing less control over the sensitive movements I needed to make.

  I’m not going to last very long in this world if I can’t wield a sword.

  When I had woken up that morning, I didn’t think I would have to choose which hand I would prefer to have sliced off.

  I finally decided on my left.

  I took the key firmly in my hand, adjusted to its weight, and lowered its teeth into the hole inch by terrible inch.

  Searching by its end, I finally felt it catch against a slot. I pressed the key into the hole until it came to a halt.

  As it did, another click sounded.

  The blade.

  The mechanism was now activated, waiting, begging for me to make a single error so that it would have an excuse to slam through my wrist and cleave my hand from my body.

  I heard Onilsia’s words in my head.

  ‘Be careful. The mechanism is sensitive – you must count from the very first click.’

  I turned the key in the most minute of motions and felt two clicks cascade back-to-back.

  Two? Was that definitely two? Shit.

  It had to be. Onilsia said it was sensitive.

  I turned it slightly further and felt another click give.

  Okay… Now anti-clockwise, just like a safe.

  I prayed to whoever might be listening and turned the key the opposite way.

  Another click.

  I still had my hand.

  From there I continued the process, shifting through eighteen clicks with obsessive counting before returning to the clockwise motions that completed the sixteen clicks in the third round.

  I wasn’t even moving my wrist – I was moving my whole body, keeping my arm straight and rigid so that I could control the fractional movements of the key.

  Some sense of relief hit me as I reached the final round, where only two more clicks were required.

  That was quickly dashed by an epiphany that hit me like a stone wall.

  What if the blade is only activated after it’s processed the fourth change in rotation?

  Shit.

  I wondered how fast I could remove my hand.

  Oh, who the hell am I kidding? This is dwarven engineering. It’s safe to say that I won’t be able to outsmart this thing.