by Wade Adrian
Wait, soldiers? They had been running from bandits. What had they done to these people?
Tom seemed confused as well... but he found the marble bag. "You'll forgive me if I don't feel like sticking around..." His hands moved about.
Max looked away. His eyes were already struggling to adapt to the daylight, they didn't need blinding.
"Visors!"
Max heard metal shift in unison before he heard Tom's spell go off. It made a bit of a high pitched whine over top a dull roar.
When he looked again Tom was still surrounded, soldiers adjusting their helmets.
Tom seemed confused. "But... I used..."
Soldiers moved in close and laid hands on him, shoving him down into the snow.
"I am well aware..." The same voice had spoken each time so far. A man stepped close to the encircled cleric, his clothes finer than the rest. A lordly getup, down to a flowing dark blue cape with fur trim. "That there is a second man who is quite the sneak."
The man pulled an intricate sword from his waist.
"If you care at all for this man's welfare, you'll show yourself and surrender."
The sword pressed against Tom's side.
Max gritted his teeth. They'd been lying in wait. So much for hiding their trail... or there was simply nowhere else to go up here, and there had been no other exits from the cave. Locals would know as much.
"I'm not in a generous mood. I'll count to three."
Max dropped from stealth and held his hands high as he wandered out of the cave. "No need to be dramatic."
The man's eyes cut to him. He had a simple band of gold around his forehead just above his ears, crushing some of his graying hair.
He didn't speak to Max, but to the soldiers. "Search him."
Max made no move to resist. He didn't have anything to hide. He had no idea what they were after.
A soldiers shook his head at gold crown guy.
The graying man pointed at Tom. "Then search him. I doubt they were so clever as to stash it somewhere."
One of the soldiers holding Tom almost instantly lifted the bag of coins they had taken from the bandits. "Here, sire."
The kingly fellow waved towards a group of carriages and wagons waiting in the snow. They all had little dark blue flags at the corners. The man with the money ran that way.
There were more troops and horses waiting. This was no fly by night operation.
The graying man shook his head. "Fools. What business have you, poking your noses into my affairs?"
Tom managed to push his way back to his knees. "That's ours! We found it fair and square!"
The guards moved to tackle him, but the king waved them off. "What, nothing more than petty thievery? And here I had dared to think you some actually competent foreign agents."
Max shrugged as best he could with his hands up. "We are the height of incompetence, sir."
He doubled over, gasping for breath.
One of the damned guards had sucker punched him. Stupid armor hadn't done much to help.
He missed his real armor. Nobody ever punched that.
"You will address his majesty only when spoken to."
Max coughed a few times before standing up once more. He turned to the guard. "Can I talk to you?"
The man seemed to consider it. "I suppose."
"You're an asshole."
The guard balled his fist again, but he stopped at a gesture from the king. "Spirited, I grant. But I'm not seeing the strategic thinking or mastery of arms I heard so much about." He turned to the wagons. "Einar. Get out here, boy."
The door to one of the carriages opened. A head popped out, slowly followed by the rest of a wiry young man. He made his way over, struggling through the snow, to stand beside the leader.
"Are these the same men?" The king pointed at Tom and Max in turn.
The boy nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You're certain?"
Einar glared at Tom. "I'll never forget."
Tom point at the kid. "Hey, it's barrel boy."
Max sighed.
Diplomacy is a dying art.
Einar balled his own little fists but the king had no trouble restraining him. "That sounds like a confession, and the ransom was found in your possession."
Max waved his hands over his head. "Whoa, hold up, time out. Permission to speak freely?"
The guard beside him looked downright livid, but the king nodded. "I admit, I have questions." He waved to the guards. "Clap them in irons and place them in my carriage."
The guard beside Max was taken aback. "My lord..."
The king raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"
The guard bowed. "It shall be done."
The king lead Einer back to the wagons while Tom was pulled to his feet and Max was relieved of his small stockpile of knives.
The restraints they carried were cold enough Max was a bit concerned about losing some skin when they came off... if they ever did.
He tried to run through thoughts of escape, but it seemed pretty dire. If nothing else he could just vanish and get away. It didn't seem like they wanted them dead. He could break Tom out later.
Tom wasn't exactly going quietly. "Hands off my stuff, dickhead! I've lost one set already!"
The cleric was lead close to Max, both were restrained and then chained together. Thoughts of stealth faded away. The floating set of irons would probably be rather conspicuous.
They were lead to a carriage parked at the center of the pack. It was a bit gaudy with gold trim here and there, but it had a lovely looking chimney. That had to be attached to something warm.
Riding in a cozy carriage didn't sound so bad, really.
Tom climbed in first, but Max was almost hugging him. They didn't have a lot of chain between them.
The king was already waiting inside.
The guard that had escorted them grabbed the door and stepped up, but the king waved him off. "That will be all."
Confusion played over the man's face... but he stepped back down and shut the door.
The wagon train was moving out moments later. The clattering of wheels and hooves was considerable. Little glass ornaments hanging inside clinked against the wooden walls.
Max was pretty sure it hadn't been the bandits chasing them that had scared those birds from their perches a few days before. But a force this size would have done it.
Tom stared at the king. "I'm going to want my stuff back."
The man seated across from them didn't say a word in response. He only watched them.
Tom narrowed his eyes. "Don't ignore me." He lifted his hands. "You can take my mace, but you can't take my magic, dickhead."
The king tilted his head slightly.
Light appeared around Tom's fingers... only to fade again as light of the same color filled the little glass globes hanging around the walls of the carriage.
Tom stared at his fingers.
The graying man nodded at the glowing ornaments. "So much easier to let people try than to bother explaining." He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. "I am King Brynjar. You are foreign agents in my lands who decided to insert themselves into delicate matters of state. Why?"
Tom scoffed. "The bandits? They were in our way."
"In your way. You overthrew a military position we lost to bandits... because it was in your way."
"Yes."
"That doesn't explain you being in possession of the ransom. You must have known such a sum was no ordinary stash of bandit loot. They would never keep so much on hand without spending it."
"Figured they had a good week."
Max shook his head. "We honestly didn't consider it. It was theirs, so we took it."
Brynjar scoffed. "So ignorance is your only defense?"
Tom shrugged. "Why not? We're quite ignorant."
The carriage was pretty comfortable, really. Cushy seats, the stove warming the whole of it. Windows keeping the cold out, little magic stealing reading lights...
This w
asn't a punishment.
That was why the guard had objected.
Max narrowed his eyes at the king. "Einar."
Brynjar tilted his head slightly. "What about him?"
"The ransom was for Einar. They had him, but they also had the ransom. Did they go back on their word?"
The king scoffed. "Bandits can not be relied upon to keep their word."
Tom looked confused. "But you paid them."
"He is my son."
Max nodded a few times. "And we saved him."
Tom turned his eyes to Max. "We did? I thought we knocked him senseless and stuffed him in a barrel."
"Yes. Which is why he was safe when the bandits chased after us."
Tom's eyes moved about as he pondered that. "They did kill that other bandit just for falling asleep on watch. They're not the best with human resource issues." He blinked a few times. "Einar was dressed as a bandit. He attacked us."
Max nodded. "No doubt still dressed as one when these guys knocked the place over and found him in a barrel."
The king stared across at Max. "Trying to survive amongst them, I'm sure. But that is not common knowledge. When we arrived to retrieve my son the fort was all but abandoned. It was simple enough to retake. Einar called out to us from where you left him."
Tom nodded now. "I get it. Kid was going bandit, but you can't have that getting out. We're a loose end."
Max pointed at the king. His shackles clanked. "But we also kept Einar from getting killed for failing to stop us, or killed in pursuit of us. So he owes us."
"Pfft. I guess we got his money back, too."
"Also that."
Tom lifted his shackled hands. "His gratitude looks funny. These friendship bracelets suck."
King Brynjar gave only the slightest shrug. "You saved my son from a foolish decision that might have cost his life, you made retaking lost fortifications far easier than it had any right to be, and you retrieved a ransom paid in good faith to those unworthy of that faith. Commendable actions, all." He pulled a pipe from his pocket. "And yet, as I said, you are still foreign agents. Trust is earned. You claim you did all this without knowing the gravity of any of it. Mere coincidence. That does not earn my trust."
Tom pointed at the king with both index fingers. "We still did it, though."
The king lit the pipe. "That is why you are in here instead of being pulled behind a wagon."
"When you put it like that... I'm Caddrach. Glad to make your acquaintance." He held out a shackled hand. "Oh, I mean, glad to make your acquaintance, sir."
Max rubbed at his chin. It wasn't as smooth anymore. Days away from a razor will do that... or, did they used to in here? It didn't matter. "I think you mean glad to make your acquaintance, sire. Or your lordship."
"Liege, perhaps?"
"Maybe. That sounds really formal."
"Dude's a king. What's more formal than that, the pope?"
Brynjar seemed to only be paying attention to his pipe. "The more time I spend with you, the more weight your ignorance defense gains."
Tom narrowed his eyes across the wagon. "Yeah, about that." He shook his shackles. "If you're on board with us being helpful, I really think we can get rid of these."
"Trust, master Caddrach. Trust." The king stared at Tom. "What are you doing in my lands? Why have you come here? If I am to believe you're not foreign agents sent here to undermine me, then you must convince me you had some other goal."
Tom shrugged. "You saw us, man. We went to find Yar's shrine. Simple as that."
The king didn't seem amused. "A crime you don't deny."
"What crime?"
"That name is forbidden. It is not to be written or even spoken. Setting foot in that cave is punishable by imprisonment. Actually seeing the shrine is punishable by death."
Tom tilted his head slightly. "That sounds kind of harsh."
"That... god is unwelcome amongst its peers. They fought against it in ages past. Cast it out. If mere men could destroy that shrine it would have been done decades ago. Most simply get lost in the winding maze of tunnels. Those who don't return gibbering fools."
Max shrugged. "We were also ignorant of that, which at this point you understand. Also I like to think if I'm a fool, I'm not a gibbering one."
The king let out a sigh. "Quite. And yet... if half of what Einar describes is true, you are quite formidable."
Tom nodded slightly. "Of that I am truly guilty."
Max punched him in the shoulder.
"Oww."
Brynjar ignored them. "It is strange to think there was a time... no, merely a week ago we were content to sit and wait for others to solve our problems. Trusting in the gods to know best. For them to send help. Yet now it seems as if a veil has been lifted. Why wait for the gods to send a messenger to treat with my son's kidnappers, when I could simply mobilize the guard and see to it myself? Strange that it had never occurred to me before."
Max frowned.
More NPCs getting too smart for their own good. It simply couldn't end well.
The world was made up of places masquerading as kingdoms. If each now had an acting king, and those kings had ambitions...
Their survival was already far from guaranteed. Being stuck in countless turf wars would pretty much drive those odds to zero.
Tom nodded. "You're right. Waiting around is dumb. You want something done, do it yourself."
"Hmph." The king scoffed. "Something like that. Fortunately for my well being, I have other avenues. My son is safe. This quest is done. Perhaps it was foolish to march out myself but... I needed to be sure."
Tom gave a few fleeting claps of his hands. His restraints clinked each time. "Congrats. Really, good on you. So, we're free to go, then? After all, we helped you."
"Indeed." Brynjar nodded to himself. "I think you misunderstand. You're not prisoners. This is... protective custody. We are keeping you safe in this dangerous corner of my lands. I would be remiss if anything untoward befell you. And once we make it back home, we'll discuss your reward."
Tom tilted his head. "I... guess that's okay."
"Wonderful."
Max crossed his arms and leaned back against the soft seat. "Not like we have a lot of choice."
The king gave him a wry smile. "No."
Wagons and horses moved a great deal faster than they had on foot. The wagons had hefty wheels that seemed to do just fine on the snow and ice they had so carefully navigated on foot. Max wasn't sure if those were based on something real or just a fantasy thing. Whatever it was, it was a time saver.
The day didn't last as long as Max expected, the light failing as the wagons slowed. They must have left the cave somewhere around noon.
They passed an open gate that looked quite familiar...
Soldiers in dark blue livery were everywhere.
The wagon train barely slowed in the fort. The front gate was... splinters. A battering ram lay just outside, but more soldiers were already dragging up fresh logs to make repairs.
The wall had been cleared of skulls and a dark blue flag flew high above. It certainly looked like order had been restored here.
Of course, the crucified bandits lined up out front were a... less than wholesome sight.
Brynjar nodded approvingly. "The time for being passive is done. I will make this land safe myself, if I have to."
12
The wagon train stopped some time after dark. It was snowing, so someone with authority must have called a halt. Visibility was pretty bad.
While King Brynjar left the carriage, Tom and Max were not allowed to. They were chained to a bar just inside meant to help people climb up.
That, and they locked the doors.
Tom looked over his spell list while Max stared out the window.
Understandable. He couldn't cast anything, and was pretty useless without his daggers.
Each spell Tom summoned was drained away the same way. It began, the casting bar started to fill... then started to unfill until it w
as empty and the stupid little glass bobbles shined brighter.
He wasn't about to let some ugly tourist trap gift shop wind chimes beat him. He cast spell after spell.
Let them take the magic. They could only hold so much, and his mana returned on its own.
Max sighed. "I don't think it's going to work."
"That's quitter talk."
"No, that's realist talk." Paladin boy shrugged. "Look, we're not getting out of this just yet. Seems like a good time to reevaluate. Or at least to get some rest. Don't need a watch rotation. I think they've got that covered."
"So they can knife us in our sleep? No way."
Max leaned against his side of the carriage, his head against the wooden wall, and tugged his hood down over his eyes. "Suit yourself."
Well... maybe magic wasn't the answer.
Tom stared out the window, so close it made his face cold.
Soldiers milled about outside. Some were waiting around a few fires, but most seemed to be crashing in the covered wagons.
Less to find a way past.
Good.
They just needed some way out...
"Hey, rogue boy, pick this lock."
"Can't." Max shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. "Even before they took my stuff I didn't have any lockpicks."
"The hell kind of rogue are you?"
"The assassin kind. And we haven't exactly come across a rogue themed general store where I could purchase such things."
"Pfft." Tom yanked on the chains.
They seemed entirely too sound.
Max sighed. "You're making it difficult to sleep."
"Rangers don't like to be... contained."
"Well good news then, you're a cleric."
Tom frowned. "Only because I have to be."
"Preaching to the choir, man." Max shrugged. "Heh. Preaching."
"Yes, yes. Very amusing." He tried twisting the chain. If only he had something to wedge one of the links open...
He glared at Max. The man just sat there, trying to sleep.
"Why are you okay with this?"
"Because I can't do anything about it." Max lifted his hood. "When I can, I will. Until then, we're warm and safe as long as these people think we have some value. Better off than we were."
"But we don't know them."
"Your ranger is showing again. It's this funny little thing called society. People work together, watch each other's backs. Mutual good and all that." Max pointed out the window at the people on the watch shift. "Right now they need us for something, so we're included in their society. At least enough to sleep." He shrugged and laid back against the wall. "Not been much of that lately. I suggest you take it. If we do need to fight, we'll need to be strong enough to do so."