by Joe Kuster
“I… uh, well, there’s been some problems in recent years.” Gerald faltered and cleared his throat. “The nobles made a deal with some of the high priests. It started as a request to have healing support on their campaigns and help keep the peace. Then it… got a lot darker. It unlocked a part of Timarat that we hadn’t seen before, and it all came to a head at the revolt of Amalay.”
Gerald scrutinized Rachel for a reaction, but she looked equally unaware as TJ did.
Frowning, he continued, “Afterward, many felt tricked and abused by the nobility, and dissent began to form among our ranks. The Traditionalists were willing to go back to being peaceful healers as long as they never asked us to do… that, again, but the New Order is seeking bigger changes. The real problem is that if the rumors are true, the New Order found Timarat’s prime anchor. It was supposed to be used by the champions and makes their prayers louder.
“As a result, they’ve been getting the lion’s share of favors as they convince him to break with the old ways entirely and to empower their warriors. It’s made him angry with us, and my power comes and goes. They pulled so hard on his blessings last month that it took me a week of trying to mend a child’s broken finger. It’s not helping my ability to tend to the peaceful. To be blunt, with as many new mages as they are empowering, I fear we’re on the verge of a full-on war.”
Realizing he was getting off track, Gerald sighed. “Sorry, I tend to ramble, but I wanted you to have a heads up with them. Honestly, you’d be better off staying out of the religious politics and head to the Guild of Mages in Ardsville. Asking some of the unaffiliated magicians would probably get you better information. Although, that’s quite a trek on foot, and it’s not entirely safe. Without provisions, it would be a challenging journey by yourself.”
TJ grumbled, “I was afraid of that.”
He sighed and plopped down on the polished wooden pew beside Gerald and shoved his head in his hands. He’d hoped he could get a grip on his powers. They seemed essential to his survival. If Serina didn’t know where he was, it might take her a long time to find him and establish communication. She’d probably start searching in the paradise realms that he’d been heading toward, not wherever he was.
Rachel cleared her throat. “I could take you.”
TJ looked up and saw the determination in her blue eyes as she stood just a bit straighter.
She added, “It’s the least I could do after what you’ve done for me. I haven’t been, but Ardsville is the duchy’s seat of power and is about a week’s journey on horseback. If they don’t know how to help, we could head north toward the elven lands. Even then, I could be back in a month or perhaps two.”
While traveling with her would be a lot more enjoyable than going alone, TJ felt like he should immediately decline the offer. Rachel didn’t really owe him anything.
In response to the quandary, his magic took that moment to stab him. Violently. TJ doubled over under a barrage of magical punishment.
Gerald jerked his eyes toward TJ’s chest. He seemed to be inspecting something hovering in the air between them.
“Timarat’s swollen ball sack, was that your oaths?” the man asked with a shocked expression.
TJ groaned. “Yeah. If I start thinking things they disagree with, they let me know.”
Gerald said, “Looks like that hurt.”
“Yup, it sucks,” he panted. “If I had to guess, it’s unhappy that I haven’t been able to properly fulfill any of my commandments.”
Rachel replied, “Oh, I could help you with that.”
Still holding his stomach, TJ spluttered as he tried to hold back a laugh. “Uh… as much as I’d love that, they are kinda specific. My patron meant well, but I think they are going to be more of a pain to follow than she expected.”
Rachel eased next to him, primly tidied her dress about her, then bumped her shoulder into his. “Look, TJ, you’ve done right by me and asked nothing in return. Gerald even says your patron isn’t evil. If helping you storm a castle, save some kittens, or give to the poor is what you need to do, I can at least help watch your back. We can get you started on a path you can manage and go from there.”
TJ chewed on his lip and nodded. “I wish I were in a position to decline, but I would appreciate some help. Some of my commitments aren’t too bad, but the first step is getting some currency. I’m broke. All I have is what I’m wearing and a silver flask I’d rather not part with.”
Rachel gave him a confused look as she glanced at his shoulders then back to his eyes as if she expected that he was joking with her. As if putting something together, she broke into tinkling laughter and covered her mouth with her hand.
Still giggling, she said, “Uhm, that might not be as hard as you think, but the royal bank in Ardsville needs to be the first stop.”
She fingered one of the gold disks dangling from his shoulder. “You don’t want to exchange this here. No one could afford to give you a fair value. Even if the Mastersons were in town, I doubt they could buy more than a tenth of this.”
He looked at her, confused.
She said simply, “You, uh, aren’t as destitute as you might suspect.”
TJ poked at the costume jewelry, letting the layers of thick disks and interwoven chain jingle. “This ridiculous thing is worth something? I seriously debated tossing it in the river rather than lug it around.”
In response to overhearing the conversation, Gerald began laughing so hard he nearly fell over. It turned into a wheezing fit as his face turned a faint shade of purple.
As though being very patient with him, Rachel nodded her head slowly.
“Oh,” TJ replied.
Pondering the situation, he grasped one of the smallest gold disks and pulled it free. He then dropped it in Gerald’s lap. “Gerald, you’re an asshole, but thank you for your help. Just remove that enchantment before I come back.”
The man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as he stared at the disk and his hand quickly pulled it into the folds of his robes.
TJ narrowed his eyes, picking apart the reaction. Gerald was acting as though someone had spilled an entire purse of wooden chits on the top of a bar counter and only asked for a single beer.
Realizing it was far too late to do anything about it, he shrugged and rose to his feet. The jewelry had hundreds of those little disks in overlapping layers and quite a few that were as big as his palm. The soft metal was so commonplace and unvalued back home that it was hammered into reflectors for their lamps and candles. If it was equivalent to funds here, that was a significant boon. After all, he’d need to start building a new life.
Remembering something important, TJ turned to his companion as he moved to depart. “Oh, Rachel, I looked for your pack, but I didn’t find anything other than animal tracks. I think something dragged it off because it had food in it. I also brought your sword back but left it outside. I didn’t want to bring it in because people were acting weird around it. It probably needs some oil since it was left out in the rain, but it looked fine.”
“Oh? Good. I like that blade. Father brought it back from a campaign in the south, and it holds an edge better than local steel.” She fell in at his side as they closed in on the doorway out of the church. “Although, I have no idea why anyone would care about my sword…” Her words were cut off as she saw the massive crowd that had circled around the church.
TJ hopped down the steps toward where he’d left the wheelbarrow, trying to ignore the citizens. Reaching around the other contents, he grabbed her weapon. He was about to hand it over but realized it was still covered in blood. He wiped it off on the nearby grass, then flipped it around so he could present it handle first.
Turning to her, Rachel’s face had gone pale. “Uh… TJ? Did you just haul a bunch of demon dog skulls through town?”
“I… yeah? I thought folks might need proof they were dead,” TJ replied.
Rachel spoke softly enough that no one else could hear her. “Most people around
here aren’t used to seeing monsters. Especially not something as dangerous as those cursed hounds. Everyone thinks their blood kills on contact. That’s why no one wanted to try to kill them. You’ve got an entire wheelbarrow full of heads. Very bloody heads. I can see the trail you dribbled over the main boardwalk.”
“Oh,” TJ offered lamely. “You said there was a bounty. That and I figured someone would want to buy them as a matching set of bowls or something.”
Rachel’s eyes went wide, horrified at the prospect.
He quickly explained, “Uh… well, back home, there was this orc that went by Walker that I drank with. Every day he brought in a wolf’s skull to drink out of. He even named his mug ‘Yeller.’ No idea why. The guy was a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but nice enough if you could get past the usual body odor orcs put out. Anywho, after one of them took a chunk out of me, I kinda like the idea of making the big bastard into someone’s soup bowl.”
Rachel nodded slowly as though she was rethinking her association with him. She then spotted a few of the guards lingering in the crowd around the bloody remains and straightened to her full height.
“Peterson, grab the payout from my father’s office. Tanner and Johnson, clear this out of here. It’s causing a fuss, so dump the remains behind Orvin’s farm. If they want a show, they can gawk at it there. This man has cleared the brickworks and is here to claim the bounty. I can vouch for him,” she belted out in a commanding tone.
“Ma’am, the, uh, collection wasn’t complete. We’re still short at least forty gold,” Peterson replied back.
Rachel grumbled, “Fine. Get him what we’ve got, then let my father know the remainder owed when he returns. TJ will need a place to stay tonight, so have them comp a stay at the Red Briar.”
The man nodded and sprinted out of sight. The other two men wearing a hodgepodge of chainmail grabbed the wheelbarrow and began guiding it through of the throng of people. In their rush, one of the bloody skulls fell from the pile and toppled into the crowd. Men and women leaped backward amid shrieks and screams.
Cringing as he looked out to the sea of people staring at him, TJ offered, “I, uh… might have made a mess. Sorry.”
“You know, I’ll say this about you, TJ.” Rachel grinned. “You know how to make an impression.”
Chapter 9
TJ eased through the doors of the Red Briar Inn and was immediately reminded of home. Patrons lined the worn wooden bar top, looking into their brews and chatting with those around them. Simple oak-wood tables were spaced out with a smattering of mid-day guests.
He breathed in the smell of beer and fresh-baked bread, immediately feeling much more at ease. Scattered about the tables, laborers and shopkeeps alike nursed their ales from simple mugs. A few were playing games of chance, others chatted in boisterous conversation, more still stared quietly into their drinks.
In the far corner, two young children coaxed a lute and piccolo into a catchy tune. Someone flipped a coin their way, and they both bowed in appreciation as they continued their routine.
The decor was simple, but clean and well kept. Stairs to the side led up to what TJ assumed were the guest rooms. The only notable difference between this establishment and the White Swan tavern he hung out at back home was that everyone was human.
Rachel eased by him and approached a red-nosed man behind the bar. With a few quick words, she had his lodging secured but seemed to have gotten pulled into a hushed conversation. He distinctly heard ‘necromancer’ mentioned several times in concerned tones as they discussed the news of the day.
In the corner table in the darkest part of the room, he spotted a scraggly old man in a cloak. He puffed on a long-stem pipe and appeared to be lost in a game that involved rolling a cupful of funny-shaped dice. He would then pause and stare vacantly into the air and poke at it with a finger. It was as if he were writing down the values he saw.
In front of him was a small carved wooden plank with the words, ‘Adventurers Wanted.’ The man had strategically placed five short stacks of silver coins in front of him, as though trying to tempt newcomers into bartering with him.
TJ glanced around, but no one else seemed to be paying the old man and his money any attention. If TJ hadn’t received the bounty, that crazy-looking coot might be his only means of earning enough to have a roof over his head and food in his belly.
TJ chewed on his lip and frowned. He was stuck here and lacking a job of any form; it might not be the worst idea in the world to introduce himself to someone looking for an adventuring group. After all, he had magic and wanted to do some traveling. That and no matter how much his gold was worth, it wouldn’t last forever.
Besides, the old guy looked like he could handle his drink, and TJ wasn’t looking forward to being a social outcast after the stunt he’d pulled with the wheelbarrow. Others might avoid him on principle if he didn’t get an introduction or two before word spread and made him a pariah.
His eyes locked onto the stacks of silver again, pondering their value. Before they’d arrived, Rachel gave him an incredibly abbreviated run down on the local currency. Rather than magically tagged wood, they used metal disks. What material used determined the value.
As his main point of reference, his room for the night would be two silvers and included food. The drinks were extra. She’d told him to set aside a stack of copper coins for that, but he suspected his tolerance would have him doubling or tripling that amount. Or, more likely, double the cost of the room.
Conversion wise, she said it was roughly a hundred coppers to a silver and a hundred silvers to a gold. Complicating the scheme, there were thinner, single coins, and thicker coins that were a ten-piece. She’d cautioned that the locals adjusted prices all the time and didn’t seem to stick to rigid ratios. Most local merchants liked working with silver. Gold tended to be harder to exchange, and it made them a target for bandits and pickpockets.
On the other hand, sending someone out with a fistful of copper worked to grab lunch or send children out to buy sweets, but it got too bulky to be practical for the typical shopping trip. Paying a merchant in several pounds of copper might have them adding an inconvenience tax, as she’d put it.
He’d also been warned that not only were coins alloys, but the silver and gold ones had lead slugs in the center, so he shouldn’t compare the weight of their metal with that of what he’d brought with him. She’d gone on to say that gold was incredibly rare. Even the wealthy didn’t use pure gold, or if they did, it was hammered into an incredibly thin foil so it could be used as a type of decorative plating. A quick glance at his shoulder decorations showed a much brighter shade and were many times thicker than the tiny yellow-hued circles used as coins.
That was about as far as they’d gotten, but he now had a melon-sized sack of mixed coins slung around his waist in a funny belt pack. He’d immediately given half of the bounty back to Rachel, citing that one of the kills had been hers, and added the rest as a broker’s fee. She’d protested the extra, but he’d won out after he pointed out that she needed provisions for the trip if she were to accompany him.
TJ absorbed as many details as he could while Rachel conversed with the tavern’s presumed owner. It was clear from the way the greasy-haired man stood that Rachel held some sway, even though she didn’t have an official position in the village.
He wondered if there were some gender roles at work as to why she didn’t. The guards by the church had been male, but they’d listened when she’d barked out orders. The little woman barely came up to his chest but could be downright intimidating. It seemed like she’d have been more than capable but hadn’t pledged herself to an occupation despite being old enough to be out on her own.
Checking on his companion, Rachel and the tavern owner didn’t look like they would wrap up their conversation anytime soon. Peeking back to the corner of the communal space, TJ was about to step forward and see if the old man wanted to share a few drinks when one of the dice fell off the table. The man
dashed after it, then upon seeing the value, hissed aloud. There was a mournful sigh as he picked it up and started back to his seat.
Pulling him from the scene, a soft hand touched TJ’s arm.
Glancing over, he saw an attractive blonde giving him bedroom eyes. She was short and thin with bright blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. While still a step below Rachel’s attire, she was dressed far more upscale than the others he’d seen out on the street, and her green silk dress fit her form well. Her glossy golden hair had been twisted into loose curls that reached her shoulders.
Her voice was soft and seductive, as though begging him to dominate her. “Mmm… hello there, handsome, and welcome to the Red Briar. I’m Bethany, and since I’ve not seen you here before, I assume you’re new in town? If you’re looking for a friendly face, I’d love to give you the lay of the land.”
Seeing the game offered, TJ forgot all about the man in the corner. Instead, he leaned into his looks and gave her a broad smile. He had been a consort after all. While he’d never had sex for money, he’d offered companionship for a good meal and a comfortable place to sleep often enough. That wasn’t much different, and she looked more than willing to entertain an offer for a fun diversion.
His magic sloshed about happily, seeing a path to satisfy some of its urgent needs. Something told him that his magic wasn’t going to keep regenerating if he didn’t fulfill at least one of his oaths soon.
He replied, “That sounds absolutely lovely, Bethany. I’ll confess, your offer intrigues me. My name is TJ, and as you’ve cleverly deduced, I’m not from around here. I’d love an opportunity to get to know the local customs. I’m finding that I’m in dire need of learning the ins-and-outs, and I find I could wish for nothing better than a charming woman such as yourself to help me find my way.”
Interrupting his attempts at returning her flirtations, footsteps thundered down the nearby stairs as a redhead practically sprinted down them, still buttoning her dress as she went. She searched the common room, head whipping back and forth with hands clasped to her chest and desperate hope in her eyes.