At Large

by Andrew Seiple

  “Ouch.” But Chase didn’t contest the point. It was true, for the most part.

  “So... the guild is definitely out of reach. They’re looking into it themselves and we want nothing to do with them.”

  “Which guild are they, anyway?” The Muscle Wizaard asked.

  “Soluzioni Semplici.”

  The Muscle Wizaard inhaled a sharp breath. Cagna barked brief laughter. “Yeah.”

  “I’m missing something,” Chase glanced between the two of them.

  Cagna glanced curiously at her. “Soluzioni Semplici is the biggest mercenary’s guild in Laraggiungere. They also employ a large number of... professionals. They overlap with the Don’s business, but not in a good way. We had best steer clear.”

  “Always a bigger fish,” Chase nodded.

  “So the guild’s off limits, but I might have a few contacts who might... emphasis might be able to get us something from one of the noble houses. Neither of them is really high up. Some quid pro quo might get stuff done.” Cagna scratched the back of her head. “I’ll be out late tonight.”

  “How can I help?” Chase asked.

  “You can’t. Your part comes after I set things up. Get a good sleep then be ready to go early in the morning.”

  Chase tried to think of a reason to protest but couldn’t. And exhaustion was creeping in. Even if her pools were pretty full, it had still been a hectic day. Lots of drama, and people had been trying to kill or rob her not even an hour ago! She shook a bit at the memory. “It has been a long day,” she admitted.

  “There was also mention of dinner, I believe?” The Muscle Wizaard asked.

  “Yeah.” Cagna said. “I’ll introduce you to the cook. Ah...” She looked over to Renny. “Maybe you don’t mention the golem, huh?”

  “I’m my own golem! I have a name, you know.” Renny protested.

  “Sure kid, sure.” Cagna rose. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  The chef was quite amenable to having more company over, and happily whipped up something with a lot of green vegetables and meat for The Muscle Wizaard. For Chase’s part, she found it tasty enough, but a little light. Some bread helped fill in the gaps, there.

  The bed was as soft as it looked, and this was a case where too-big furniture proved to be more of a blessing than a curse. She curled up in it, leaving Renny to putter around the villa. He’d offered to stay and watch over her, but she figured there wasn’t any need.

  Which made it all the more shocking when she woke up in the middle of the night to find strange hands pulling at her clothes and a tongue in her ear.

  CHAPTER 10: AWKWARDNESS, ARMOR, AND AMBLING

  “I am, once again, very very sorry about... that misunderstanding,” Giuseppe Coltello said again, waving one free hand in agitation.

  The other hand wasn’t free. It held a very expensive ice pack against a thoroughly swollen black eye.

  Chase, for her part, folded her arms and glared at him over the most luxurious breakfast spread she’d ever seen. It was a long way down the table, but Giuseppe flinched back anyway, looking like he wanted to bolt out the door.

  Giuseppe Coltello was a human just out of his twenties. He had a physique that was just starting to turn to flab. His jawline was the same, his hair was a neatly groomed mass of yellow braids that he had assured her were all the rage in Toothany, and his hands were soft and unmarked by any sort of honest work.

  His free hand caught her attention as it wobbled uncertainly in the air. Chase was relieved to see that his fingers had healed up well, after she’d nearly bitten one off and broken a few more for good measure. But not too relieved.

  She’d already decided to forgive him in exchange for significant favors and maybe a cart of gold at some point in the future, but it was best to let him squirm, first.

  “So let me get this straight once more, now that you’re not screaming and begging for mercy,” she spoke, and Giuseppe jumped, then cleared his throat.

  “Yes?” he squeaked.

  “You thought I was your paramour, come to surprise you by staying over in the middle of the night.”

  “I er, well, yes. She always shuts the door you see, to let me know she’s in. And your door was shut, the doors are always open otherwise, it was an honest mistake—”

  “And the fact that I’m half her height didn’t clue you in?” Chase kept her face stony.

  “But you’re not! Not exactly. I mean... well first of all I was very drunk. I had quite a bit at the Contessa Della Lumbyardi’s place, and she’s only a foot or so taller than you, my love I mean, not the Contessa. Not that the Contessa isn’t a dear, but—”

  “Wait. Your mistress is only a foot taller than me?” Chase let a darker tone leak into her voice. “Do you like them short? Like children?”

  “No! No no no! Absolutely, I mean, absolutely not!” The ice pack slipped to the ground as Giuseppe waved both hands in frantic circles, like a man hysterical and beset by bees. “She’s a dwarf! My Tabita is four feet two, just the right size, for, er, ah...”

  Okay, that caught Chase’s attention. “I thought dwarves didn’t usually, er, get involved outside of their own kind, so to speak.”

  “They don’t. What we have is special,” Giuseppe said, stars in his eyes. Well, less of a star and more a red harvest moon for the black eye on his left-hand side.

  “And how do you think she would feel, if she knew that you’d felt up another woman? A halven? Dwarves are supposed to be pretty sensitive about their height,” Chase said, taking a sip of breakfast wine, and following it with a bite of gooey cinnamon roll. “Be a shame if she got the notion that you only loved her because she’s short. That you have a thing for every short woman you come across.”

  Giuseppe went pale. “Tabita wouldn’t... I mean... I don’t think she...” he blustered, then stopped. “Did I mention that I’m very, very sorry about this whole thing?”

  “Only about three times since I got here,” The Muscle Wizaard boomed behind him, and Giuseppe fell out of his chair.

  Chase bit her cheek to keep from laughing. It had TOTALLY been worth keeping a straight face as the big man snuck in from a silently opened door, and stood behind Giuseppe, waiting silently. The Wizaard knew how to make an entrance.

  “I’ll say it as many times as you like,” Don Coltello’s son squeaked from the floor. “Only oh god, no!” he screamed as the Muscle Wizaard reached down...

  ...and helped him to his feet.

  Giuseppe quivered, and looked up at the bearded bodyguard. “Don’t worry about me, friend,” the Muscle Wizaard said, smiling through his beard. “I’m only here to handle the things that she cannot. And she handled you just fine. But you might want to worry about Cagna.”

  Chase watched, fascinated, as all color drained from Giuseppe. “Oh. She’s here?”

  “She’s here. Should be back any time now,” Chase said. “So let’s talk about how you can make it up to me quickly, before she gets back...”

  It didn’t take long. Chase had sized him up after the chaos was done last night and found his willpower equivalent to soggy parchment. This morning proved no exception, and he meekly agreed to both foot their investigative expenses for the next couple of days and owe them a few favors in the future. “Specifically, I want you to see if you can get us into one of the noble houses that lost a member to the werewolves. Who were they again?” Chase asked. She’d never gotten a name, so she was fishing, here.

  Fortunately, Giuseppe was eager to take the hook. “Bianchi and Rossi,” he said. “Of course! I shall pay my respects through my friends in those houses, and endeavor to allow you to visit in some capacity.”

  “Good.” Chase finished her cinnamon roll and put the wine down before it could muddle her. She knew her limits. And, as the door opened again to admit a familiar face, she knew she’d be pushing those limits today. “Ah, there you are Cagna! Perfect timing.”

  “Cagna! Ah, hellohelpyourselftobreakfasthaveapleasantstay!” Giuseppe squeaked a
nd literally ran for the far door, slamming it behind him and heading deeper into the villa.

  “I didn’t even have to growl at him this time,” Cagna said, from her spot at the door.

  “You look dog tired,” Chase said without thinking.

  “Only heard that one about a thousand times,” Cagna muttered.

  But it was true. Her ears drooped, her fur was mussed, and she slumped as if she was barely holding herself upright.

  “Would you like a Clean and Press?” Renny offered as he faded into existence next to Chase, dropping the illusion that had concealed him.

  Cagna wasn’t surprised. “You know I smelled you, right? I knew you were here. So you can cut the theatrics.”

  “They weren’t for you,” Renny said.

  Cagna looked around, then blinked, bleary-eyed and unimpressed. “Whatever. Okay, so two bits of news. I’ve got you the password to the Rossi casino.”

  “Their what now?” Chase asked. “I don’t know that word.”

  The dog-woman gave her a strange look. “You’re in the business, how can you not know about... whatever. A casino is a gambling hall. The Rossis back an illegal gambling hall, down by the docks. A lot of the family’s servants and allies spend time there, and you might even be able to find one of the family who isn’t grieving over the loss of Enrico Rossi.” Cagna extracted a crumpled bit of parchment from her cloak and set it on the table. “There’s the address and password to get in. Take the walking muscle-mountain with you.”

  “Muscle Wizaard,” the big man corrected.

  “Yeah no. The constables are looking for the Muscle Wizaard. Best to play it low-key for a while.”

  “I’m not very good at that, I fear.”

  “I know. Which is why I told the gardener to throw a tarp over the wagon until we can get the sign changed. And the second piece of news...” Cagna sighed. “There were two werewolf killings last night. In different parts of the city.”

  “So we’re dealing with two werewolves.” Chase rubbed her chin.

  “At least. Could be more. Might have been a murder we didn’t hear about. But anyway, the problem is who they killed. One was a constable on patrol near the river gate. That’s a problem because he was with a whole patrol. Idiot stepped away to take a piss and got disappeared. Now the guards are shamed, and the whole city is whispering that they’re useless against the werewolves. The other killing though, that’s the big problem...” Cagna exhaled, hard. “The other murder was Dona Tarantino.”

  Chase’s memory filled in the name with a context. “You mentioned her last night? Something about how it was shameful that she let gangs run loose?”

  “Yeah. She’s the crime boss I mentioned who Don Coltello sold... I mean, had dealings with.” Cagna shot the Muscle Wizaard a look.

  Chase thought that wise. It’s probably best not to mention how the guy we’re working for trafficks in stolen women. Not to the Muscle Wizaard.

  Cagna continued. “Which means that it’s probably vendetta. It’s probably either someone related to that runt werewolf that got away all those years ago, or the runt himself, all grown up. The dons are having a meeting about this tonight. I’ll need to be in attendance, which means that you should plan to be as well. Don Coltello wants to show that he’s making progress and showing that knife you found in front of the Council will help him look good in front of the others.”

  Chase nodded. “I can do that. Anything else I should know?” She hopped down from her seat, and took the parchment off the table, glancing at it before tucking it away.

  “No.” Cagna said. “Some stuff for the meeting tonight maybe, but that can wait. Just be smart, don’t make waves, and keep your ears high. And...” she considered Chase. “You should probably go shopping. Get some armor, kid. You’re going to be moving around rough areas and rough people, the less stabbable you look the better.”

  Chase tightened her lips.

  “No, don’t argue. This isn’t your hometown, country mouse. People play for keeps, and arrows don’t care who steps in their way. Get armor. Wizaard, make her do it.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Chase shot him a betrayed look, and he stared back, unconcerned. “I am your bodyguard. And I do happen to agree with her on this point.”

  “Right. I’m going to crash. Be back before dark.” Cagna yawned, tongue stretching far out of her toothy muzzle, and headed to the back of the villa.

  Half an hour later, Chase and her friends managed to locate a good-quality leatherworking shop near a large inn that catered to adventurers and other people with violent professions and lots of money. Some careful negotiation and a mention that she was a local and not an itinerant murder-hobo got her a sizeable discount... along with an unexpected charisma boost.

  To her surprise, the Muscle Wizaard had proven very helpful at helping her pick out accouterments. “I’ve had long experience with a number of costumes,” the Wrestler pointed out. “You’re going to want light leather, something that you can move in without hindrance, but might slow down a stray arrow or turn aside an off-target thrust.”

  “What about on-target thrusts, and straight arrows?”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but they’ll probably kill or badly injure you regardless of what kind of armor you’re wearing. So it’s best to work with your mobility and not get hit by those in the first place.” The Muscle Wizaard shrugged. “You’re a halven, young lady. There’s only so much we can do without magic... and I don’t think you have the funds to access that sort of thing.”

  “Really?” Chase pushed her prospective purchases into the big man’s arms. “Hold these while I go check.” Thomasi had given her a LOT of coin. At least twenty gold worth, give or take!

  Two minutes of conversation with the shopkeeper, and she came back, ears drooping, and with a new humility. “So. Uh. Magical armor costs... lots.”

  “Yes it does,” The Muscle Wizaard nodded.

  “Like more than my entire home village probably has, lots.”

  “Well, there’s little need for them except among adventurous sorts, and they take components that are hard to find and expensive in most places,” the Wizaard shrugged.

  “It’s a little different in Cylvania,” Renny whispered from her pack. But he was loud enough for the Wizaard to hear.

  “Ah yes! I’ve been curious about that place ever since you mentioned it. Can you tell me about it, my small friend?”

  “Not here,” Chase said, shooting the shopkeeper a look as he haggled with a red-haired woman wearing a chainmail bikini. “Too many ears.”

  While the store’s owner was otherwise occupied, they escaped into the changing rooms in the back. The Wizaard and Renny took one, while Chase took an adjacent cubicle. The walls were thin enough they could discuss matters, and by turning the signs on the others to ‘occupied,’ she thought they wouldn’t be interrupted.

  Initially focusing on trying on the various pieces of armor and accessories, she found herself listening to Renny with interest, as he told the story of a land locked behind magic gone horribly wrong, wracked with civil war, and beset by demons.

  It sounded like the sort of high adventure she’d craved as a child, and she stared at herself in the mirror as she realized that she was free to visit there someday, and have a look for herself.

  She was finally free to do and go wherever she pleased.

  After over a week it was starting to sink in.

  The Muscle Wizaard was less interested in the adventure aspect of it, and somewhat more focused in his inquiries. “You say there’s no Wizard guilds? Or schools?”

  “No. The kingdom used to control the royal academy, but it got dissolved after the war. Now the official council arcanist is Mister Graves. He’s not a Wizard, but he helps people get the arcane training they need. And there’s plenty of Wizards around to take apprentices and teach whomever they want.”

  “But what about dangerous magical experimentation? Like Cagna said?” The Muscle Wizaard asked.
<
br />   “She left out something pretty important. Experimentation like that takes a lot of money and resources. The council keeps an eye on where the money goes these days. And we’re always short on reagents and crystals. You need those to make golems, and we’re making a whole lot of golems these days.”

  “Why’s that?” Chase asked, struggling into a corset.

  “Because there’s really not many people left,” Renny said. “The wars went on too long and we weren’t a big land to start with. So golems that don’t have to sleep or eat or stop working are a really big help to the living folks.”

  “That’s admirable!” The Muscle Wizaard decided. “To spend your life in service like that!”

  “Oh, we get paid for our service. And we don’t have to serve if we don’t want to. Once we graduate from the Rumpus Room we can choose to go and do whatever we want. So long as it’s legal anyway. But most of us want to help people. We’re good at it! Teacher said it was because we’re toy golems. We’re made to be friends and help our people. We don’t feel right unless we’re doing that.”

  Is this why he stayed with me? Chase wondered.

  She’d asked herself that many times over during their trip. When the chance had come to rejoin his group and return home, he’d decided to come travel with Chase instead. Ostensibly it was to explore more and learn more about this land. But it had always seemed like a thin explanation to the halven girl.

  Was it because he considered her his people?

  If so...

  Chase was touched. And with that came the realization that she was fully responsible for his predicament. He’d bonded with her, it sounded like that anyway. She would have to take that into consideration, and make sure what he’d gained was worthwhile, more than what he’d given up.

  “I want to go there,” decided the Muscle Wizaard. “If there’s no guild, and it’s that easy to become a Wizard, then maybe... maybe my dream isn’t quite dead after all.”