by Albion, Rex
“Yes, Priestess.”
Vandal shook his head slowly and smiled as the serving wench scampered off. “Did they just invent that pudding so they could make innuendos?”
“Perish the thought. We Brits are very prim and proper, don’t you know?” Roxy replied, fluttering her eyelashes at him in a way that suggested the exact opposite. “We don’t do saucy humour and ribaldry you know.”
“Sure, sure.”
Roxy grinned wickedly and sipped at her drink, looking around the common room of the Spotted Dick. They’d picked a corner booth, with thick brown leather upholstery and paid a small premium for it but they kept the curtains open so they could watch the other patrons.
“She’s a bit dressed up, isn’t she?” Roxy said, after a few minutes of people watching, gesturing discreetly with a flick of her head and quick glance who she referred to.
The goblin shaman wasn’t wrong. In a similar booth across the pub, three people sat, working their way through big bowls of soup and the bread to mop it up with. There were two men with the woman Roxy had pointed out, and the text above their heads when Vandal focused on them confirmed they were locals, not Awoken.
One was a burly looking dwarven fighter, with an enormous double-bladed axe propped up against the side of the booth. It looked like it’d be almost as tall as he was if he stood up next to it, and Vandal reckoned he probably swung it around as easily as a lumberjack despite the enormous blades of the axe head. The dwarf’s muscles bulged powerfully around his shoulders and arms and the weapon probably felt light in his hands.
The man opposite him was human, tall with long blond hair and a short beard. He too looked battle hardened, but the weapon by his side was a plain arming sword. It was the large horn he’d rested on the table that stood out, it seemed ancient enough to have its own story. It was carved with abstract patterns, like Celtic knotwork, and adorned with silver including a mouthpiece at the tip and a rim around the open end. It had a leather strap so it could be hung from the neck and blown during battle to signal the order of the day, rather than being sealed off to be used as a drinking vessel.
“It does look like she spent more time in front of the mirror than the rest of us this morning,” Vandal agreed. The woman was wearing a rather elaborate dress of fine quality materials, built for travelling but that marked her out as someone with money. There were fine chains of gold and silver woven into her neatly coiffed hair, and a golden diadem at her crown.
Even from across the pub, when she turned her head to respond to one of her companions, Vandal could see the tell-tale pointed ears that identified her as an elf, even if her delicate bone structure and beauty had not.
“Pretty too.”
“If you say so,” he grunted.
“Come on, she’s stunning and that neckline doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I bet she’s got great legs that go all the way up here,” Roxy teased.
“She’s alright, but she’s no sexy goblin shaman. I bet she’s not half as fun as you are.”
“I suppose she could be a complete ice queen. She doesn’t seem to be all that keen on the company she’s keeping.”
“Maybe they aren’t very interesting? She might be a sparkling wit with an intoxicating laugh and a beautiful singing voice, bored out of her mind by two hired locals.”
“Could be. Do you think she needs to make some Awoken friends?”
Vandal shrugged. “We can always ask if we see her again, but tonight I think we have our own plans, don’t we?”
Roxy raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know, do we, Vandal?”
“We’ve got a room, a meal coming, and we need to get some sleep, for tomorrow, we may die.”
“Well, that’s cheerful.”
“But before we sleep, I think we should celebrate the day so far, don’t you?”
“Now you’re talking. What are you thinking, the theatre to see a play? Perhaps a comedy club or a dance hall?”
“I thought we might stay in and make our own entertainment.”
“Even better. I would have been really disappointed if you’d wanted to see a play,” Roxy said.
Vandal had to sit through the entire meal, watching as Roxy teased him with the big sausage she’d ordered, licking her lips, and admiring it, before slowly putting the end between her lips and taking a bite. The air was thick with suggestive comments, particularly when she reached the dessert course.
Roxy took her time eating the suet and fruit pudding and relishing the thick custard it was served with. It was a fairly easy target for puns, when the dish itself was called spotted dick but she made full use of it, with her classy English accent that made him think of period dramas and the better fantasy films and TV shows. He’d grown up around people who had the kind of money that meant they didn’t need to work their whole lives, but they never sounded classy to him. Well spoken, of course, but his own accent just didn’t seem exotic to his ears.
Probably why Brit actors ended up playing the villain so often, and why the fantasy genre was dominated by their accents too. American accents sounded inherently modern, even from his part of the country, and suited contemporary fare much better.
Whatever it was though, even if she hadn’t been saying the dirtiest things imaginable, dropping unsubtle hints, and licking her spoon in a way that wasn’t just suggesting but downright insisting lewd things would happen, her voice would have turned him on.
Not that her pronounced green cleavage, lust filled eyes and plump lips didn’t do the trick on their own, of course. Roxy was the complete package. Not what he’d have selected on a dating site to find a match, but she ticked boxes he didn’t know he had.
When she finally finished her meal, and they’d chatted to let it settle, Vandal was fit to burst by the time she yawned, stretched and asked if it was time for bed.
“Yes,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, definitely time for bed.”
“Mmm. I don’t know. I’m tempted to have one more sausage. What do you think?” Roxy asked, with a sparkle in her eyes and a thoroughly lascivious grin.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get more sausage tonight.”
“Oh Vandal, you know what my favourite food is, and we’ve only known each other for a few days!”
“I pay attention. It seemed important to you,” Vandal growled as he followed her sashaying hips up the stairs to their room.
“Oh, it is. It is, Vandal. I’d have it morning, noon and night if I could.”
“I won’t object to that.”
Chapter Forty-One
“No, Marjoram, Flora, we can’t let you get involved,” Vandal said, “I know you would like to help in some way, but the goddess has charged us with this task, not you and she’s given us abilities to help us defeat the Cult of Libidos.”
They’d gone to seek out some information from Flora and Marjoram because they knew exactly who they were and seemed to be trustworthy. Vandal and Roxy had discussed it over breakfast and decided that the heads of two prominent Guilds might know the merchant in passing, or someone who could tell them about his business or properties.
Once again, they’d seen the beautiful Awoken elf in the pub, having breakfast with her two companions and Roxy had teased him for staring at her. “Why don’t you go and ask her if she’d like to join us?” she said, poking him in the shoulder and giggling when he blushed.
“As I was saying, do you think that Marjoram or Flora might know anything about this merchant? Are they going to have information?”
“He said, trying to deflect discussion of the hot elf girl, he can’t keep his eyes off,” said, Roxy.
“Why would I care about her, when I have a sexy, voluptuous goblin with a thirst for my body?” said, Vandal, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
“Oh, with compliments like that, you’ll have all the ladies swooning,” said, Roxy.
Eventually he managed to get her back on the topic at hand. Whether or not it was worth visiting the herbali
sts and alchemists to ask about their target. Vandal and Roxy were both confident that they had their trust as well, as worshippers of Amoria firstly but also as good people who had been honest and open with them. At least, outside their fondness for pranks and the like.
“But High Priest Lionheart,” Flora said.
“Stop it!” Roxy snapped. “You two simply must listen to us. We would be devastated if you were hurt trying to deal with this. We already saw off most of these wicked people.”
“Yes, we’re not going to take any unnecessary risks ourselves. All we need to do is find out about them and Captain Myers of the watch will deal with them,” Vandal said.
“Do you really think you won’t have to face them”? Marjoram asked.
“We’re going to do our best to sneak around, find out something the captain can use against them in court. Fighting is a last resort.”
“Then how can we help?” Flora asked.
“We know where we’re going, and we wondered if you know anyone who might have helped build it, and could tell us about it?” Vandal asked. They described the location and the owners to the faithful Amorians, but it drew a blank.
“I don’t know it, but if it’s that big, I bet it was built by the mason’s guild,” Flora said.
“You think Ricky and Bert’s friends could help?”
“Don’t they have blueprints for the designs in the guild hall?”
“Yes, but we need a pretext for them to hand them over. Vandal and Roxy can’t just ask for them so they can sneak around because the owner might be an evil cultist,” Marjoram said.
“What if they were looking to have something similar built?” Flora suggested.
“That’s a good idea. We could say we saw that work, and wondered if they could tell us about it, and whether it would make a good building for an Amorian estate we want to build,” Roxy said. “Would that work?”
“It might do,” Marjoram said. “They could ask their friends in the masons guild if they could show you designs like that. We don’t have any of our congregation there, I'm afraid but Ricky and Bert know lots of woodcutters and masons because the miners provide stone and buy wood you see.”
“Great,” Vandal said. “Anything we can find out about the place might help.”
“I’ll come with you to speak to Ricky and Bert,” Marjoram said. “Just let me fetch some things and tell Capsaicin I’m going out for a bit. I won’t be long.” She went back into her guild and left them talking to Flora.
“This is all very exciting. Do you think they’re the right people?” Flora asked.
“We think it’s likely. But we can’t prove it otherwise the captain could take care of it,” Vandal said.
“Cultists of Libidos in Tinshire. It doesn’t bear thinking about. They’re vile people.”
Presently, Marjoram returned. She handed Roxy a small bag. “It’s not much, but perhaps it will help. There’s a Potion of Shadows and a Potion of Agility in there. The potion of agility is fairly obvious but the other one will draw the shadows to you, if there are any. It’ll make you harder to see, in a dark place. Doesn’t help in broad daylight though.”
“Thank you, Marjoram, that’s very kind.”
“Anything for you, Priestess. I just wish I had more on hand to offer but we don’t keep such things around I’m afraid, they’re expensive to make so they get sold to Awoken or shopkeepers promptly.”
“How much do we owe you?” Vandal asked.
“No, no, those were from supplies. I can afford the time and ingredients,” Marjoram said. “Especially in aid of the goddess’s purpose. Come on then, no time like the present, is there?” She kissed Flora goodbye and led them off down Guilder’s Street to where Bert and Ricky were.
“Oh, look who it is, Bert,” Ricky said.
“Don’t you two start!” Marjoram warned and held up a hand to forestall them.
“Yes, dear,” they chorused meekly.
“High Priest Lionheart and High Priestess Lickspring want to find out about getting a building built, down river, near the big city. A place for Amoria’s worshippers to gather.”
“A temple?” Ricky asked.
“No, more of a country house to start with, we’re planning to buy some land and once we’ve got somewhere for people to stay, we’ll build a temple,” Vandal lied.
“Do you know anyone at the masons who could show them some designs?” Marjoram asked.
Ricky shrugged. “Their architects can build them anything they want, just go and ask.”
“They don’t want to go in sight unseen, and they thought something like the big place on the hill outside town might be an idea. You may have seen it? That ugly mansion where that brewer lives? The Tinshire Pale Ales chap?” Marjoram said.
“We could ask Arnold,” Bert said. “He could probably show them something and explain a bit. Stop them getting sold more than they want?”
“Arnold wasn’t an architect, though,” Ricky said. “Just a foreman.”
“I’d much rather speak to the man who does the work, rather than the boss who makes it hard for him, though,” Vandal said. “I prefer a practical working man to deal with.”
Ricky laughed. “Ain’t that the truth? The architect would probably try and sell you on some fancy marble grand temple that you’d never get the funds to complete and would take twenty years to build if you did.”
“We need something a bit more practical than that,” Roxy said.
“Good, so you two will take them along and introduce them to your friend Arnold then, will you?”
“I suppose we can do that tomorrow,” Ricky sighed.
“I’m making liver, kidney and beetroot pie tonight,” Marjoram said.
Bert and Ricky’s faces screwed up in disgust. “Alright, we get it. We’ll take them along now just please can we not have something original tonight?” Bert pleaded.
“Layabouts who don’t make Amoria happy, don’t get made happy by their wives,” Marjoram pointed out.
The two old miners shot to their feet, and Ricky downed the rest of his beer. “Right this way, folks. Let’s get you sorted out, shall we? Happy wives, happy lives, as they say?”
Vandal caught Marjoram’s triumphant wink and grinned back at her as they followed the grumbling retirees to see their friend.
Chapter Forty-Two
Arnold, it turned out, was just like Bert and Ricky, and reluctant to do anything useful, until he was offered beer and introduced to Roxy in her cleavage revealing leather dress which he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.
He took them into a library of sorts, which was full of big flat drawers. Arnold chattered more or less non-stop as he looked through a reference card system, to find the plans of the merchant’s house. Finally, he’d got the location and pulled several large drawings from an old drawer, which he laid out on a big table.
“There, this is the original plan for the work, little lady,” Arnold said, pulling over a stool so Roxy could get some extra height over the table. He ignored the rest of them. “This is the courtyard and the garden wall, though in truth this is more like a fortified manor, to keep out any ghouls and gobl…” he gave Roxy an awkward look, cleared his throat and continued, “orcs and travelling salesmen and the like.”
“Oh, yes, this is definitely the house we saw on the way into town isn’t it, Vandal?” Roxy said, enthusiastically. She wasn’t going to be offended about how the word goblin was used, Vandal knew since she wasn’t really a goblin, but Arnold reacted as if he’d made a social faux pas.
“If you say so dear,” Vandal sighed, as if he wasn’t interested at all.
“You are clever to find it so quickly, Arnold,” Roxy said. “Ignore Vandal, he’s just a big grump. I’ll be making the decisions on this project anyway. He doesn’t understand the finer things in life.”
“It’s not a bother, young lady. Are you sure you want something so big?”
“Yes, I think so. We want Amoria’s faithful from far and wide to
be able to visit and stay for a while so they can worship together. In comfort,” Roxy said.
“This would certainly be comfortable,” Arnold agreed. “It’s one of the grandest buildings in Tinshire. I remember when they put it up, ten years ago. Lots of us worked on it, or stonework for the grounds or the cellars and the like.”
“Cellars?” Roxy asked casually.
Arnold pulled out the drawing from under the top one, which showed side elevations of the house and gardens and the plan of the grounds. “Yes, M’Lady. This is the plan for the main cellars, you see.”
“Gosh. These look almost as big as the house itself!” Roxy said.
“You have a good eye, your ladyship,” Arnold said, obsequiously. “I’ve never seen a foundation so enormous or between you and me, over the top. Now you mention it, bringing out these plans brings it all back. It was proper queer at the time, I don’t mind telling you.”
“Is this unusual?” Roxy asked innocently.
“Unusual, she asks?” Arnold chuckled to the other men, as if it was plain to anyone what was odd. Vandal laughed politely. “The merchant wanted the biggest cellar in Tinshire. It’s over two stories tall in some places. It’s big enough to be a warehouse and the architects told him it would cost a fortune for what he wanted, and it’d be cheaper to build a grand warehouse nearby above ground. But he was adamant he wanted a nice cool underground space that was easy to guard or some such nonsense. At the end of the day, it’s the customer’s money.”
“Maybe it’s useful though?” Roxy said.
“Well, see here, this was done with brick which is quite cheap. And here is where the big door was cut in the side of the hill. It’s big enough you can drive a fully laden wagon right into it for unloading. This bit here is a wine cellar, although in truth they probably have lots of beer in there I suppose. But then he does run a brewery. Still, it’s strange to take beer out of town to store it, when it could go straight on the barges immediately to be sent down river, or to a river warehouse? Maybe they age it there? It’s very secure because of all his guards. Look, there’s even guard posts at the corners of the walls. They don’t want anyone getting in to steal their paintings and silver and beer!” Arnold laughed. “How the rich live, eh?”