Rescuing Roxy: A GameLit Harem Fantasy Adventure for Men

by Albion, Rex

  Bercol picked a new yellow one up from the tray and placed it on the bridge just west of Tinshire where they’d been ambushed by the bandits. “See? It’s a map of what’s been going on this year. Yellow means a bandit attack.”

  “This is interesting. Look, Vandal,” Roxy pointed. “You can see loads of yellow ones there, there, and there.”

  “That’s right. Nathan said, this would help us visualise what’s happening here, as long as we keep it up to date,” Bercol said. “I was sceptical at first, but he bet us a month of Mrs Bumble’s finest baked delights, if we could do it for three months.”

  “What if you lost?”

  “We had to take him on patrol once a month for a year,” Bercol said. “Fortunately, the temptation of apple turnovers, and chocolate bites was enough for us, and we soon had enough markers to see interesting things. Where the bandits seem to be most common is one. Where we’ve got lots of robberies or burglaries or muggings.”

  “Which colour is for assassination attempts?” Roxy asked.

  “Err. Well. We don’t have one for that, it’s not really a popular crime in Tinshire,” Bercol scratched his head in puzzlement.

  “An unsavoury character was following us, but he got away. Vandal tore this off his cloak,” Roxy said, handing over the scrap of material.

  “Alright,” Bercol said, inspecting the piece of cloth.

  “Then when we were in Eastgate at Bracegirdle’s, we saw him again,” Vandal said.

  “Only this time, he had a good go at killing me,” Roxy said. “He slashed me with a knife, and it was only because Vandal saw him when he came out of the shop that he didn’t murder me, I’m sure.”

  “Wait here, would you?” Bercol said, and came back with Captain Myers, who closed the door behind them, and got a hot mud for himself, motioning for them to sit down.

  “Sergeant Bercol told me what you said. Could you give us the full story please?”

  Vandal and Roxy related a bit more detail, about where they’d first seen the man, and how the attempt on Roxy’s life played out and Myers asked a few simple questions.

  “Well, that’s terrible but I’m glad you were able to heal it up. I told the Sergeant about the cult you are dealing with, but we couldn’t link our crime map to anything helpful. We even had a look through some of the recent files, but our records don’t bring up any incidents that shed any light on them,” Myers said.

  “We’re pretty sure he’s one of the cultists though,” Vandal said.

  “Everyone else we’ve met has been friendly. They’re the only people we’ve upset, because of the whole thing where they didn’t get to sacrifice me to their god, and we became priests of Amoria,” Roxy said.

  “Sergeant, does this mean anything to you? I don’t recognise it,” Myers said, holding up the cloth again. There was an embroidered pattern, but it didn’t contain any obvious references.

  “I’m not sure, sir. I think it’s from a merchant house though. If it’s from a uniform cloak for servants, it would make sense, but you’d need the crest for me to know which family or company they might work for.”

  “I agree. The fact that this pattern is embroidered and with good quality stitching though, suggests to me two things. Firstly, the wearer is a henchman of a wealthy merchant. Someone who cares enough about appearances to even have uniforms for their servants. Secondly, they must have a job in their household staff or are fairly senior in the business. The people close to a merchant might wear a uniform and be well dressed. But not their gardeners or the stevedores who unload their riverboats, wouldn’t you agree?” Captain Myers said.

  “Yes, Sir. That does limit the scope a bit,” Bercol said. “Pity you only got this fragment really.”

  “How do we go about working out which merchant gives his staff a uniform like this, then?” Roxy asked.

  “Do we start at the docks? What you said, suggests there might be warehouses there and if he’s wealthy, does that mean he’s going to own one?” Vandal said, walking over to the map of the city and looking at it.

  They gathered in front of the map and looked at it. Bercol pointed at the riverside, to the south side of the town. “These are the docks, where the riverboats dock. We’re the last town up the river so all the warehouses are right there.”

  “But if this man is household staff, he won’t be there anyway,” Roxy said.

  “I agree, I don’t think it’s likely you’ll see them there. But the alternative is to look at the houses of the wealthy in the north of the city,” Myers said, pointing to several streets which had no pins at all. “Not only will you stand out there, but the merchant’s houses aren’t conveniently in one place, but spread out across this whole area.”

  “You think we’re more likely to spot someone in a uniform around the docks because they’re close to each other there,” Vandal said.

  “Yes. Although I admit this is not a substantial clue.”

  Roxy shook her head, “No, I think we should go back and pick up the clothes we found when we cleared out the cult. The Sergeant is right, all it would take is a house crest, or one or two items of clothing that they recognised. Lots of people wear cloaks, and I don’t recall his being so garish it would stand out. We could walk right by one of the servants wearing it and not realise.”

  Myers and Bercol nodded their agreement glumly and Vandal sighed. “There and back again it is. It’s a shame we can’t take a shortcut, but we could wander around Tinshire for days hoping to get lucky and they might send more assassins next time.”

  “Is it settled then? The Sergeant will escort you back to the caves with a wagon and anything you’ve purchased, then bring you back and we can look at anything they left that might identify them,” Captain Myers said.

  “I’ll pick some discreet lads and lasses who can be trusted not to gossip. Did you burn the bodies yet?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, I was planning to do something with them when we got back.”

  “Shit. Hopefully ghouls won’t have found them,” Bercol said.

  “Amoria protects the caves now,” Roxy said. “We hope they are undisturbed, but we should be cautious, I’m afraid.”

  “Sergeant, take canvas sheets and sacks of lye. The bodies will have to be brought back to be disposed of properly, and no-one is going to claim them when they were caught worshipping the foul god, Libidos,” Myers said. “You’ll have to stitch them up and make trips to Pauper’s Field so they can be burned.”

  Bercol grunted. “Grim work but that’s what constables are for,” he said, with a wry smile. He saw the puzzlement on Vandal’s face, “The lye stops the ghouls smelling them. They’re not brave creatures but a pack might attack a wagon full of bodies. We’ll stack them near the caves, then ferry them back and forth after we’ve brought you back.” He took his leave then to go and organise things.

  “No matter how discrete our people are, I don’t think your Temple is going to remain a closely guarded secret much longer, I’m afraid,” Captain Myers said. “I don’t think we have any choice but to do this though.”

  “Better that the folk of Tinshire know before we are ready, than having rotten bodies to deal with on our own or packs of ghouls sniffing around,” Roxy said. “Even if they can’t get into the temple, that would probably put off any worshippers from visiting us.”

  “Definitely. Thank you, Captain, we do appreciate your support and we’ll search these cultists out and bring them to justice.”

  “Did you end up with anything you need to collect to take back with you? I know you were looking to purchase some things,” Captain Myers said.

  “Yes, we have things at The Spotted Dick,” Roxy said.

  “The Red Lion was wonderful for food, but a bit pricey to stay there at the moment,” Vandal said.

  “I suggest you wait here until the Sergeant has a wagon, then he can escort you to collect your belongings. I’d rather not have them make another attempt to attack you,” Myers said. “It might be a bit of a wait
though so please, avail yourself of the hot mud.”

  They thanked the captain and he returned to his office.

  “I wish we could stay back at the temple for a few days,” Roxy said.

  “Me too, but at least we get help to clean up.”

  “Every cloud has a silver lining.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  It took a couple of hours to make it back to the temple in the end, having picked up their gear from The Spotted Dick, including all the tools and things they’d bought from the merchants they’d visited. The Sergeant had bales of canvas and twine, and sacks of lye as well. He had six guards with them, on horseback.

  Fortunately, they found the temple untouched. The Sergeant swore the guards to secrecy and threatened dire consequences if they told a soul about their mission today or the discovery of a Temple of Amoria near Tinshire. Vandal assured them that as soon as the temple was open for worshippers, they would let the people of Tinshire know so the secret would not be theirs to keep for long.

  He was surprised how well the guards treated them. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Clerics of the goddess of love might not be as well respected by the locals, as those of other gods. The worshippers of Amoria they’d met hadn’t been able to even find a complete copy of their scriptures, after all.

  “It doesn’t pay to anger any god, High Priest Lionheart,” Bercol said. “The folk of Tinshire aren’t especially devout but the temples in town have regular congregations. I’m sure you’ll meet their leaders once you open up and there are bound to be people interested in worshipping Amoria, once there’s a temple, even though it’s out here.”

  “Is it dangerous for them to come here,” Vandal asked.

  “One at a time, yes, but if they come in groups, I daresay they’ll be safe enough. The dangers in the forest around Tinshire aren’t much of a threat to a patrol of my guards, or a merchant’s caravan, as a rule. Still, better safe than sorry,” Bercol said. “They should travel together and be armed.”

  Vandal made his excuses and left Roxy with the sergeant to sort through the possessions they’d found, the clothes, weapons, personal items and so on, that might identify the cultists. They’d decided to sell it all in town, to the merchants they’d already met, unless anything suggested the identity of a merchant or person and would support their guilt. If they found anything, they’d keep it for the magistrate to see.

  While Roxy and Sergeant Bercol handled that, he went to help the constables move the bodies outside, and stitch them up in canvas with a few scoops of lye. It was grim work, far from what he’d expect of his normal life. If there was any magical means to do this, he resolved to acquire it as soon as it was available. Perhaps a flamethrower, he thought, chuckling to himself at the idea. He declined to tell the curious young constable who asked what he found so amusing; that seemed better kept to himself.

  He felt bad about it, but they left four of the constables to guard the corpses, while two accompanied the wagon back to town. Thankfully it was summer, so they dropped off the bodies at Pauper’s Field and the sergeant slipped some coins to the gravediggers to prepare a pyre for more to be burned. Bercol was going to drop Vandal and Roxy off with the clothes and other goods at the watch house, and then pick up another wagon and make one more round trip which he was confident they could do before it was too dark to travel.

  None of the guards had recognised any of the bodies, although some of them were headless thanks to Roxy’s finishing move, and many were burned from the exploding oil barrel. But they’d found some clothes that would bear closer inspection.

  Bercol left them with Captain Myers, and they took everything into the briefing room to sort through it properly. The captain was keen to stay up and make progress on the case, if they did have anything that would help.

  A constable went out and brought back hot soup and fresh bread from a nearby pub, and they worked into the evening, going through everything and inspecting it for anything that one of the watchmen might recognise.

  Finally, they found what they needed. A solid clue to an identity.

  It was a silver pin that they found on the collar of a fine linen shirt among the more expensive items they’d found in the locked room in the barracks. One of the guards who’d accompanied them to the caves and helped bring the bodies for cremation who recognised it.

  “Captain, begging your pardon.”

  “Yes, constable, Cordwainer? Do you recognise something.”

  “I do, sir. This pin. I’ve seen the sign before. On patrol in the docks,” Constable Cordwainer said.

  “Do you recall where?” Myers asked.

  “There’s a big painted sign over the warehouse. It bears the same device. A tankard, a barrel and pickaxe. Tinshire Pale Ale?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Bloody awful stuff, sir. They ship it down river to the big city where they apparently think it’s a charming rural beer.”

  “That’s right, sergeant. It’s not even proper beer, not bitter or even stout,” Cordwainer agreed. “Lager they call it. It’s supposed to be a refreshing drink for miners, but it tastes like horse piss only without the alcohol.”

  Captain Myers smiled at the colourful language. “Tell me, constable. Do horses piss much alcohol? Begging the pardon of our holy guests of course.”

  Cordwainer realised what he’d been saying and cleared his throat. “No sir. It means there’s not enough booze in it to get a real man, or woman drunk. That’s why the city softies like it I suppose. No Tinshire miner would drink it though. You want to be on cider for mining, like my old dad.”

  “What’s wrong with lager?” Vandal asked puzzled.

  Roxy sighed. “I’m sorry gentleman, he comes from somewhere more like the city than you’d think. I promise, I’ll sit him in front of some proper drinks soon enough and get him educated.”

  Sergeant Bercol laughed. “I’ve had one or two that you could drink and imagine were beer, but you pay through the nose for them, and they’re not a patch on stout, let alone bitter, all the same. This stuff though, is strictly for amateurs. I can’t say I’m going to be upset if we get to shut them down.”

  “I’m more of a cider drinker myself,” agreed Captain Myers. Then he cleared his throat, “Although if my wife is around, it’s wine which I’m told is superior.” He sighed and looked despondent for a moment, like a man who is told the bread he prefers has been replaced with a new loaf of sourdough as if that’s supposed to be an upgrade.

  “Weddings,” Bercol mused. “Mrs Bercol always expects me to drink wine at weddings. I don’t know why I can’t have a good cider or a beer.”

  “Fascinating though this is,” Vandal interjected, “where can we find these people?”

  “The owner has a house outside town,” Cordwainer said. “Big posh place on a hill with a wall and guards and everything.” He pointed to the area on the map.

  “What are those pins for?” Roxy asked, pointing out some map markers that were spread out among the farmland around the country estate.

  Captain Myers said, “They’re wolf attacks.”

  “Wolves? That’s a lot of attacks.”

  “We’ve tried to hunt them, but no-one has been able to find them. They attack, drag someone away and there’s barely even a trace,” Sergeant Bercol said. “Just some blood and an abandoned cart or a basket full of things they were taking to their grandmother. Some of the lads think it’s orcs, or worse, werewolves. Hasn’t been an incident for a while though.”

  “They’re not by any chance all young women who aren’t yet married?” Vandal asked. He was pretty sure he’d caught on to Roxy’s implication faster than the guards had, but then they hadn’t been convinced these were animal attacks since they started happening.

  Myers looked at Bercol, and their faces darkened.

  “They were going to sacrifice me, Captain. I doubt I was their first victim even in that area. Perhaps a lot of these pins are their crimes?” Roxy suggested as tactfully as she
could.

  “We can’t just march into that mansion based on all this though,” Myers said. “The magistrates would take a dim view of that. We need more proof.”

  “We’ll get it for you, Captain. We’ll go there and find something so you can bring them to justice,” Vandal said.

  “Don’t look so worried, Captain,” Roxy said. “We won’t cause any trouble.”

  “We should probably get some rest then, Roxy, and head out tomorrow?” Vandal suggested, nudging her in the shoulder.

  Roxy grinned up at him. “Yes, back to the Spotted Dick for some rest and a good meal. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  “I trust you will contact us once you’ve discovered something we can act on?” Captain Myers asked.

  “Of course, Captain. You have our word,” Vandal promised.

  “Good, if these people are involved in the disappearances, I want to clear that up and make sure they pay for their crimes. Sergeant, please take some men and see our guests safely back to their inn. I don’t want another attempt made on you tonight,” Myers explained to Roxy and Vandal.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Roxy said.

  Chapter Forty

  “I think I’ll have the sausage and mash, please, Milly,” Roxy said.

  “Small, medium or large?”

  “I’ll take the biggest sausage on offer, thanks love,” Roxy said, causing Milly to giggle uncontrollably.

  “And for you sir?”

  “I’ll have the chicken, thanks.”

  “After the main course, Milly, can you bring me some of that lovely spotted dick?”

  “Of course. Do you want it with lashings of hot custard? That’s my favourite way,” Milly smirked.

  “See, Vandal? Milly’s a girl after my own heart. Lots of hot custard sounds great. Creamy custard is fabulous with dick, isn’t it?”