The Last Protector

by Daniel C. Starr

  Jape stumbled into the alley, holding his head in the throes of a world-class hangover. “What the..."

  "Say the word, Jape!” Scrornuck said. “Say the word and this creep's history!"

  Jape rubbed his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?"

  Scrornuck pulled his sword back a little. “Yeah, I guess you passed out and missed it. This shit sent three people to kill me. I got strangled and stabbed and poisoned, and then he grabbed Nalia..."

  "I swear, I never touched her!” Tremmlowe croaked. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

  "Shut up, slimeball!” Scrornuck gave Tremmlowe a hard elbow in the ribs, knocking him to the ground. “C'mon, Jape, say the word!"

  "And what will you do?"

  "I'll take him apart,” Scrornuck said, “starting with the most painful bits.” He let Ol’ Red's luminous tip dance around Tremmlowe's crotch. “And ending with the vital ones.” He lifted the blade to graze his captive's throat.

  "No.” Jape shook his head, and immediately regretted it. “Let him go. There's been too much killing lately."

  "Oh, no,” Scrornuck said. “Not this guy, not after what he tried to do to us."

  Jape massaged his temples as if trying to chase his headache away. “Let him go, Mister Saughblade. That's an order."

  "Fine.” Reluctantly, Scrornuck put his sword away. “Get out of my sight, you little shit,” he growled, pitching Tremmlowe toward the street, straight into a pile of fresh garbage. “If I had my way, you'd be dead—and I promise, the next time I see your face, you won't live to see sundown!” As he watched Tremmlowe struggle to his feet and scurry away, Scrornuck sat down on an overturned trash basket and muttered, “Sheeyit."

  "What's bothering you, Mister Saughblade?” Jape asked.

  Scrornuck stared at the ground. “Me. I knew all along the guy was a slimeball. I promised to protect you and Nalia, and even if you thought he was safe, I should've remembered.” He looked up at Jape. “We're going to regret letting him go."

  Jape shrugged. “Well, what's done is done. Let's go check on Nalia. She was still asleep when I heard the commotion out here..."

  "Did somebody mention my name?” She strolled through the doorway, looking comfortable and well-rested. “What happened to you two? Too much fun last night?"

  "Come inside and I'll tell you all about it,” Scrornuck said.

  They returned to their table, which the staff, awake again, had already cleared. Scrornuck slumped into a chair and began to tell his tale of the attempted assassination.

  "What?” Nalia interrupted. “Two people came into your room and tried to kill you? Right here in the middle of Taupeaquaah?"

  Scrornuck nodded. “They weren't very good at it, obviously. And then I found you in the scumbag's room with that ball of purple light..."

  "What?” It was Jape's turn to interrupt. “The Orb was in Tremmlowe's room?"

  "Yeah.” Scrornuck looked at Nalia. “Don't you remember?"

  She shrugged. “All I remember is, I was sitting here at this table, and I guess I fell asleep. The next thing I knew, you two were outside bickering."

  Scrornuck looked at Jape. The Ranger shrugged. “I must have nodded off. When I woke up you were out in the alley beating up on our host."

  "Shee-ee-yit!” Scrornuck said, holding up a handful of his smoke-stinking hair. “How do you think this happened?"

  "I don't know,” Jape said reasonably. “Let's go have a look."

  They headed upstairs and found the door to Tremmlowe's room had already been locked. “The housekeepers are quick,” Scrornuck said, setting Ol’ Red's blade to a toothpick size and picking the lock. Seeing Nalia's surprised look, he added, “I've had a lot of practice tonight."

  Tremmlowe's room was neat and in order, and there was no sign of the Orb or any basket. “You were right here,” Scrornuck said, kneeling. He looked at Nalia. “You had your arms in it up to the shoulders.” He flipped backward. “And this is where we landed when I finally got it to let go.” He stared at her with a pleading look. “Don't you believe me?"

  "I believe you'd never intentionally lie to me,” Jape said. “So you must have seen something.” He helped Scrornuck to his feet. “But if the basket and the Orb were here, where did they go? Tremmlowe was in no shape to move them."

  Scrornuck collapsed into the chair. “It was here."

  Jape patted his shoulder. “You had a hard night."

  "What about the assassins? Was I just seeing things?"

  "Let's find out."

  Scrornuck didn't bother picking the lock on his room. He simply kicked the door hard enough to tear the lock from its mounts. Somehow this relieved a little of his frustration. “Hold your breath,” he warned. “The smell is going to be pretty bad."

  "What smell?” Nalia asked. The room smelled like a room. The windows were open and a gentle breeze stirred the curtains. No blood, no bodies, no broken furniture, no puke in the chamber-pot. The place looked and smelled like a perfectly ordinary upstairs room at a brothel. Nalia kicked at a heap of blankets and pillows on the floor. “Are these the bodies you left behind?"

  Having found nothing upstairs, they returned to the table. “I have the mother of all hangovers,” Jape moaned, holding his head. “I need coffee."

  Scrornuck produced a silvery pouch labeled COFFEE, INSTANT, SELF-HEATING. “At least I can still protect you from caffeine withdrawal.” He kneaded the pouch for a few seconds, and it quickly became hot.

  Jape tore a corner off the pouch and sucked down its contents greedily. “Mister Saughblade, you are a sight for sore eyes.” As the coffee started working, he corrected himself. “I mean, the sight of you makes my eyes sore. You look like somebody dragged you through hell.” He opened his eyes further. “It's getting to be morning, the kitchen's about to open, I'll order a nice, big breakfast, and you go clean yourself up."

  "Just a little snack for me, okay?” Scrornuck said, unsure about whether he could keep anything down right now.

  "Continental breakfast, then,” Jape said. “Now get going. Wash that blood off and find a shirt, or at least cover up that tattoo. You'll feel better, and trust me, so will we."

  "Last time I was in that room...” Scrornuck muttered as he limped toward the stairs. “If I'm not back in five minutes, send a search party."

  Nobody bothered Scrornuck as he washed, dried and clothed himself, finishing up by folding and pleating the big plaid blanket into a proper traditional kilt. A search of the room turned up no sign of his shirt, blood-soaked or otherwise, or the dragon-headed brooch that had belonged to his grandfather. With a sigh, he threw the top parts of the kilt over his shoulders and tied the fabric together to more-or-less cover his tattoo.

  He returned to the barroom, still sore and reeking of smoke but feeling good enough to think he might be able to eat something. To his surprise, Jape and Nalia were deep in conversation with the two chickaderos. He paused for a moment, listening.

  "And what do you want?” Nalia demanded, scowling.

  "Meeoow,” Blue Eyes sniffed, then turned to Jape and said, “Where's that shit friend of yours, the one that stiffed us last night?"

  "Mister Saughblade?"

  "Not the big guy. I'm looking for that little shit who took off and didn't pay us."

  "Although,” Blondie giggled, “the big guy stiffed us, too."

  "Put a sock in it,” Blue Eyes ordered. “See what I have to put up with? Anyway, that little friend of yours—"

  "Tremmlowe?"

  "Yeah, Tremmlowe. He hired us to entertain the big guy and he never paid up."

  "I don't think you'll be seeing him again,” Nalia said icily.

  "Great, just great.” Blondie rolled her eyes. “A working girl never gets a break."

  "Wait a second,” Jape cut in, “let's get back to Tremmlowe. He offered you money to entertain Mister Saughblade?"

  "Yeah, four silver pieces."

  "I'd have done it for three,” Blondie said. “In
advance."

  "You'd have done it for nothing, if I'd given you half a chance,” Blue Eyes retorted. “That's why I run this business."

  "If you're so good, how come we didn't get paid?"

  Jape pulled out five silver pieces. “Tell you what,” he said, “I'll give you these if you can tell me exactly what Tremmlowe wanted you to do."

  "There's not much to tell. He just pointed to your friend and said he'd give us four silver pieces to keep him entertained."

  "Wait,” Blondie said suddenly. “What about the door?"

  "Oh, yeah. He made a point of that. Once your friend was asleep, we were supposed to get out quietly and leave the door partway open."

  "Did he say why?” Jape asked.

  "Nope. We just figured he had some other fun planned for later.” Blue Eyes stared at the coins. “That's all we know. Can we get paid now?"

  "Hi, guys!” Scrornuck arrived at the table as Jape handed Blue Eyes her fee.

  Blondie shoved a chair in between herself and Blue Eyes. “Have a seat, tiger!"

  He accepted the chair. Blondie reached for his hand—and suddenly froze. Across the table, Nalia glowered at the two chickaderos, staring so intently that her eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the gas lamps. The girls sat bolt upright, an expression approaching terror on their faces. Scrornuck looked about and saw that Jape was also sitting at attention, eyes wide open. Oh, no, he thought, half-expecting to see sparks around Nalia's fingertips, not again.

  The girls nodded, as if responding to a voice he couldn't hear. Taking great pains to avoid making contact with Scrornuck, they backed slowly out the door. Jape relaxed, and as the serving wench arrived with breakfast, Nalia flashed a smug smile. “Sorry,” she said, “but tarts aren't on the menu this morning."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twelve

  "You Are a Stiff-Necked Pupil"

  "Doesn't he ever sleep?” Scrornuck groused as he limped across Temple Square in Saturday morning's bright sunshine.

  High Priest Rosaiah, the object of Scrornuck's muttering, smiled down from the Temple porch in a benign, almost fatherly, manner. “I see the Dragon is starting to humble you. Are you yet ready?"

  "Ready to shove that stuffed toy up your—oof!" Scrornuck felt Jape's elbow in his sore side, and shut up.

  Rosaiah sighed. “You are a stiff-necked pupil indeed. I fear you will suffer greatly before Spafu finishes your lessons.” He returned to his scrolls. “We will be waiting."

  "Go stroke your lizard, Rosey,” Scrornuck muttered. “That guy really frosts my—hey!" He jumped back a step, dodging a small cart that two men were pushing across the Square at a flat-out sprint. A moment later, a swarm of carts and runners burst forth from the narrow street beneath the west side of the Temple platform. They carried all manner of goods—cloth, unfinished sections of timber, sacks of flour, cases of toilet paper, baskets of fruits and vegetables, whole sides of beef. The rush went on for several minutes, and then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

  "The Gifts of Spafu, on their way to the shops,” Nalia said. “Every night Rosaiah stands in the special place and prays, and every morning the doors at the foot of the Temple open up and the Gifts are there, everything we need for the day."

  "Where's it come from?” Jape asked.

  "The Dragon makes it, of course.” For the first time in a few days, she flashed him that look that almost shouted, well, duh!

  "Bullshit,” Scrornuck muttered. “That lizard can't..."

  "Oh?” Nalia said. “Would you care to tell me where the Gifts come from, then?"

  "Um...” Where did the stuff come from? They'd seen no farms or factories near the city, or on their journey to the Executive Palace. He found he had no answer, and thinking about the question was making his head start throbbing again. “Ah, screw it,” he mumbled, and they walked in silence to the Guest Gate.

  The silence continued after they returned to the resort. Nalia, the only one of the three who seemed healthy and rested, went down to the pool. Scrornuck headed for the shower, while Jape sat in the suite's kitchen and guzzled coffee. Once the Ranger was fully awake and Scrornuck no longer stank of smoke, the pair headed down to the pool, stopping along the way to pick up a fruit beverage touted as good for hangovers. Seeing Nalia methodically swimming laps, Scrornuck sighed and gently lowered himself into the hot tub to soak his aching muscles. Jape sat at a nearby table and perused the documents he'd gotten from Tremmlowe.

  "A six-pack says they're all useless,” Scrornuck said as Jape discarded another paper.

  "I buy all the beer anyway. What kind of bet is that?"

  "The kind you deserve.” Scrornuck sipped his drink and made a face. It was sweet, very sweet. “Son-of-a-bitch tried to kill me, and you let him go."

  Jape shrugged. “We looked in your room. No blood, no bodies, no sign of a fight."

  "You don't believe me about Nalia and the Orb, either."

  "No sign of it in the room, and she doesn't remember anything..."

  "She didn't remember touching it the last time, either."

  "Nor did I."

  "Shit! You think I'm making up stories?"

  Jape sighed. “Mister Saughblade, you were obviously in something more than a bar fight. But we found no Orb, no dead assassins—only you, half-naked, looking like you'd been through hell, raving about Tremmlowe trying to kill you."

  "Just telling you what happened.” Scrornuck chugged about half the fruit drink, and struggled to keep the syrupy beverage down. “You know I'd never lie to you."

  Jape set down his paper and stared straight ahead. “Yes, I know that.” He glanced at the pool. “Would you ask Nalia to join us?"

  "Better ask her yourself,” Scrornuck said dejectedly. “She probably won't even talk to me after I chased those bimbos last night—"

  "You were drunk, you thought she'd dumped you for Tremmlowe. I think she'll forgive you.” Jape sighed deeply. “Mister Saughblade, there's something I need to tell you. Have a seat, please.” He shuffled his papers nervously while Scrornuck climbed out of the hot tub and took the chair across from him. “Tremmlowe looked like our only source of information, and he was interested in Nalia.” He took a deep breath. “I paid her an extra gold piece a day to flirt with him."

  Scrornuck's chair clattered against the pool deck as he jumped to his feet, staring in disbelief. “You paid her to flirt with that little shit? That is the lowest ... I've taken all the crap that a hundred worlds can throw at me, I've been shot, stabbed, burned, flogged, and left for dead in a trash dumpster...” He felt himself fighting back tears. “We were supposed to be in this together. I never thought you'd lie to me."

  "I didn't lie; I just didn't tell you everything."

  "Cut the lawyer crap!"

  Jape's voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm not proud of what I did..."

  "You shouldn't be!"

  "What would you have me do?"

  "You could have told me."

  "Would you have let her go through with it?"

  "Let her make kissy-face with the slimebag? Hell, no!"

  "See?” Jape said. “You've got a teenage crush on her. I kind of hoped it'd cool down if you saw her taking an interest in somebody else."

  "My love life is none of your damn business!” Scrornuck's voice rose to a roar, loud enough to turn heads around the pool area. Even Nalia stopped her lap-swimming and stood up to see what was going on.

  "I was just trying to help,” Jape said. “You know what happens when you get involved with local women. And in another week we'll be out of here—"

  "What do you mean, ‘we,’ Ranger?"

  Jape's jaw dropped. “You made a promise,” he said slowly.

  Scrornuck cut him off. “So did you!"

  Jape was silent for a long time. Then he turned and looked Scrornuck in the eye. “Mister Saughblade..."

  Scrornuck turned away. He wasn't going to let those hypno
tic blue eyes work on him this time.

  "I was wrong.” Jape's words hung in the air for what seemed like forever. “When I paid Nalia to flirt with Tremmlowe, I was using both of you. And you're right—your love life is your business, not mine. I shouldn't have tried to break up your relationship.” He took another deep breath. “I didn't keep my part of our bargain—and now I find I can't hold you to your part.” In a weary voice he said, “I release you from your promise."

  Scrornuck's jaw dropped. “You'd do that?"

  "I don't want to,” Jape said. “But it's the only honorable thing.” There was another long silence. “I still need your help to finish this assignment. Can I count on you for that?"

  "Yes."

  "And after?"

  "We'll see."

  "Good enough,” Jape said. He sounded old, tired, beaten. “Well, Mister Saughblade, let's get to work. There's a world to be saved—but first, I think you need to make up with your girlfriend."

  Scrornuck swam the length of the pool under water, surfacing directly in Nalia's path. Standing up in the waist-deep water, he flipped his mop of wet hair over his back, making a cheerful rainbow.

  "Hi,” she said, tentatively.

  "Hi,” he said, just as tentatively. Several seconds passed in silence. Then they both spoke at once.

  "Scrornuck, there's something we have to..."

  "Uh, Nalia, I have to..."

  They both stopped. Finally, after another long silence, he spoke, not daring to make eye contact. “I'm really sorry about what I did last night."

  "You should be,” she said curtly. More time passed in silence, and then she suddenly sighed, a long sigh of frustration and anger. “I don't even know who I'm mad at. I'm mad at you, I'm mad at Jape, I'm mad at myself for going along with him...” She suddenly put both her hands in the middle of Scrornuck's chest and shoved him over. When he surfaced, sputtering, he saw her looking at him thoughtfully—and smiling. “Oh, hell,” she said, taking hold of his chin and forcing him to look into her deep brown eyes, “we were all such dumbasses. Maybe we should just forget last night ever happened."

  "Can you do that?"

  "Probably not. But I can pretend. Hell, if I could pretend to be interested in Tremmlowe, I can pretend anything."