CH 11
“Now, John and I have made a promise to our little rabbit here.” Errol tucked the wide edge of his cleaver under Nigel’s chin. Nigel stood with his hands in the air on either side of his head as though lifted by the blade.
“Yes we have.” John opened his greatcoat and rested his free hand on the handle of one of his throwing knives. “We promised him a tour of sorts. You’re going to have to drop that staff and that fancy sword of your’s before we can make good on our promise.”
“Look.” Nigel pushed the lute in its case toward the two men with his toe. “You can have your baby back...”
“Stuff it.” Errol laughed at him. “Do you have any idea just how hard it was to catch up to you?”
“We were actually worried we might never see the boss again, what with all them giants.” John stepped next to Errol and kept his hand on his knife. “You gave us quite a scare, the pair of you.”
“Now, drop that staff, wizard.” Errol looked over to Max while John’s fingers curled around the handle of the blade.
“No!” Nigel hopped back off of the end of Errol’s cleaver and put himself between Max and John. “He’s not to blame. If it weren’t for him you’d still have the giants-”
“I’d venture to say that if it weren’t for him your skinny ass wouldn’t have made it out of Whalesport.” Errol growled through a tight grin at his next victim. “So I believe he is precisely as guilty for our merry hunt as you are.”
“I agree entirely.” Max dropped both of his weapons. “You were right about my family line being cursed, Nigel. Sorry for that.”
“Which one you want to do first?” John asked.
“I’m partial to the lad, but I think the other might make trouble if we pursue that course.” Errol offered his opinion.
“You’ve a fine point there, Errol.” John returned.
“This isn’t you fault Max, well not this bit, the giants and the dragon and all the double dealing...” Nigel began his recitation with a chuckle.
“You’re funny, Nigel. About to die and still cracking jokes-” Max began.
“Would you two hens shut up?” John wagged his cleaver at them. “My brother and I are in the middle of an important question.
There was a soft rush of wind that came from behind the two large felons. Max and Nigel craned their necks around the huge men to see what had generated the quick breeze. A tall, copper skinned elf wearing a tight tunic and tall boots that accentuated the best parts of her figure had appeared by teleport. Max recognized her immediately. She stooped and picked up a small spinning ornament of some kind as it wobbled to a stop and fell over. She smiled as she tucked it away and produced two small glass crescents. The twins turned to look at her. They couldn’t help but smile at such a beauty in their midst. The sight of her literally disarmed them as the let their weapons hang in their hands by their sides.
“Hello Max.” Alcinia leaned around the shape of the twins to meet Max’s eyes. “One moment.” She pressed the center of each crescent making each one flip over into an ‘S’ curved pair of connected semi-circles. She narrowed her eyes in concentration and flicked both of the little glass blades out and away.
What happened when they left her hands took place in an instant, too fast for any of them to understand. The tiny razors spun wide, almost perpendicular to Alcinia’s body. Each twin watched one of the tiny flashing blades as though hypnotized. The spinning discs made a fast curve in midair and came back toward one another, each one cleanly slicing through the neck of one of the brothers without slowing down. The paths of the blades crossed as two heads slipped off two necks. Neither man lost his stupid grin as he died. The spinning glass razors wound out again past one another and clipped all of the fingers off of Nigel’s raised hands. As he fell in pain Max ducked at the same time. The crystal weapons made a pair of wide loops out, around and back again to Alcinia’s open palms.
“S**t. I haven’t got the hang of these things yet.” Alcinia frowned at Nigel as he shook and began to wail in pain. She closed the dangerous blades into crescents again and secreted them away somewhere on her scantily clad person. “Father won’t be too pleased that I’ve mucked up this lad’s fingers.”
“Father?” Max asked as he scrambled to Nigel’s side.
“Yeah.” She picked up the lute case and cracked it, shaking her head with a wistful smile. “I imagine he’ll be happy to have this in hand, though. After he went to all the trouble to get Billingsgate to play his club, he wasn’t pleased that he had to send me to fetch this evil thing.”
“My hands!” Nigel screamed. He knew his days as a bard were over when he finished bellowing back up on the rock. This, however, this seemed like too cruel a joke for even the universe to play. It was a vicious irony, and it hurt like hell to boot. “Holy gods my hands!”
“You need to shut up.” Alcinia put a finger to her lips and hushed in a long whisper until she touched Nigel’s screaming mouth. He laughed once and fell asleep. “Is he a friend of your’s?”
“Yeah, a rather dear friend.” Max tore part of his tunic and began bandaging Nigel’s ruined fingers. “So, ah, Matan’ Daar is your dad?”
“Of course.” She picked up a cleaver from the still twitching hand of one of the twins and handed it to Max. “I’ll take this ‘dear friend’ of yours with me so we can put him back together... or something.”
“Um, mind if I tag along?” Max took the cleaver sheepishly. He already knew her answer.
“Yes.” She smiled as she knelt next to Nigel’s unconscious body and took the small ornament out again. “You have work to do, quite a lot of it.” She motioned to the ashen wreckage of the great war chariot the Longbridge had ridden into town on. The putrid head of the dragon was scorched but still very much intact in the middle of the smoldering pile.
“Quite a bit.” Max sighed into a contented grin as he considered all of the bits and pieces of loot that were scattered about. Not the least of which were the thirty odd forelocks he would claim the bounty on. “Um, when will we...”
“Catch up?” Alcinia turned a very sexy curl into her very perfect lips as she answered. “Your friend and I will be at the club. Meet us there when you have things sorted. And bring Bill by, Dennis is worried about him.” She slung the lute over her bare shoulder and put one hand on Nigel’s chest. She took a deep breath and tossed the ornament into the air. It fizzed and sparkled with tiny gold firebrands before the world bent in on itself and they vanished in a blast of air.
“Huh...” Max looked at the cleaver and slowly walked over to the dragon’s seared skull. As he began to dig at the forehead of the defeated serpent, the sound of great wings caught his ear.
Brock Zadora and a couple of part time riders appeared over the roof of the destroyed church on a trio of huge, slowly flapping buzzards. They took a few moments to set down among the broken ruins and enormous tangled corpses. Brock tread carefully past the dead twins and shuddered as he met Max and shook hands.
“What in the holy blazes happened here?” Zadora released Max’s hand and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He was a fairly tall man, lean and strong with a small belly that he’d collected spending a great number of hours in the saddle.
“Oh, not much...” Max let his words trail off as he watched the gargantuan buzzards hop about and start tearing away at the chief’s remains like it was a holiday. “Not much, just what I imagine I’ll be having nightmares about for the rest of my life.”
“You realize it has been a long day, coming all the way up here after stopping in Pickettstown.” Brock crossed his arms and nodded at the early morning light proceeding the sun in the east.
“I’ll make it up to you Brock.” Max went back to the gruesome task of removing the noostone from the dragon’s brow. “If you and your temps can help out, there is more loot here than you can shake a stick at, I’ll promise the three of you more than fair compensation.”
“I know you will.” Zadora leaned back and laughed as he took in the scope of the ruins. He was a man with a mind for treasure, and he was certain this was a jackpot. “I know you will.”
***
“No seriously, just hover over that open spot there near the tree line and I’ll drop into the water.” Max was being as frank as he could with Brock.
“Do you know where we are right now?” Zadora was beginning to think that Max had seen too much in the last week and that he may have lost his marbles. “These are the Catarian Marshes, you won’t last an hour in there.”
“Really, I know what I’m doing. Lock the booty up in the damaged parcels cages.” Max stood on the back of the great bird as Zadora guided it close to the water. “If I haven’t made it back to claim it in a week, it’s yours.”
“Whatever you want.” Crazy or not, Brock knew Max was offering him a win-win outcome. “One week. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Max slapped Zadora on the back and plugged his nose as he dropped into the water.
He frog kicked over to the nearest mangroves and wrapped an arm around a root while catching his breath. As the buzzards flew out of sight and over the trees, he pulled himself up and slipped back into the water. He made it about one hundred yards into the collecting vegetation of the fen canopy when a Catarian boat slid out of a channel in front of him.
“You’re still alive, hero.” Salet looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad my decision to spare you was worth the risk.”
“As am I.” Max grunted as he hauled himself into the boat. He noticed that Salet had a coil of silken cord in the her lap. “Is that necessary?”
“We have to keep up appearances, Max.” She leaned forward and tied him about his wrists. She felt a familiar tremor of... something uncomfortably nice... move through her as she crouched next to her hero and cinched the knot tightly.
“Ouch. Really, I don’t think...” Max winced at his bruised wrists. He was scraped and knocked and cut from head to toe, he was getting tire of being covered in painful, nagging wounds.
“I make the decisions in here, remember?” Salet sat back and paddled into the dense foliage. “That’s what keeps you alive among my sisters.”
“Right.” Max exhaled painfully as he worried about the answer to his next question. “Speaking of alive, is Bill...”
“Yes.” Salet wrinkled her nose at the notion of breeding. “He is still alive, and I’m guessing that Ann’ akurra has already helped him back into his man shape again.”
“Wait. She told us that she couldn’t change him back.” Max was frustrated but relieved. And now she can do it without this?” He moved his hip over so that he could slip the fist sized black stone from the pocket of his breeches.
“Of course.” Salet smiled seeing that Max had completed his task. Men were cute, she thought, the way they believe what women will say as though it had to be true. It even worked when dragon’s did it.
“Right...” Max sighed at his own clownishness. “So she wasn’t ever going to eat Bill?”
“Oh no, she had every intention of eating him, she was just taking her time.” Salet clenched her jaw. Talking about the mating time continued to make her stomach squirm. “Ann’ akurra lingers over her boys... she likes to save the most... prodigious breeders for last.”
“Uck.” Max closed his eyes and hazarded a small snicker. Bill, who knew he had it in him. “I don’t think I want to know any more about that.”
“Good. Because I’m not going to speak of it again with you, hero.” Salet was relieved.
“Could you see your way to stop calling me ‘hero’?” Max gritted his teeth and smiled. “It is a bit annoying.”
“I will stop calling you hero when it stops bothering you.” She smiled broadly at him, pleased by her own cleverness.
“Right.”
***
“You know Bill...” Max pounded a fist on his sternum to keep his breakfast of fish in place as he spoke. “I have this kind of odd mixture of pride, curiosity and revulsion at thinking of you being one of the most prodigious breeders.”
“Thanks Max.” Bill was entirely satisfied with his place in the world as they ambled up to the gate on their fine horses. He felt as though everything made sense finally. It was all small stuff compared to what he’d known, and known, and known... “To be honest I don’t recall much more than a few flashes of, well, a much better time than I think any man can have while he’s still a man.”
“That’s all I need to hear, thanks Bill.” Max reined his mount to a halt and patted the beast affectionately. “I was wondering what they had done with Billingsgate’s horses. It’s nice to see they didn’t hurt them.” They sat in front of the portcullis and waited for a sentry to poke his head out of one of the iron shutters overhead.
“Well, it wasn’t the horses’ fault they were in the cemetery, and the flowers will grow back.” Bill shrugged as the shutter opened. “Really, the Catarians are quite friendly, as long as you’re not a man. They don’t care for men. Not at all.”
“What brings you fine fellows to Whalesport?” The pimply guard held his helmet back as he leaned out so as not to lose it. He was threatened by the appearance of a handsome wizard and a dark skinned dwarf clad in elegant (if a bit effeminate) suits of silken armor. They were money, that was for certain.
“We’ve just closed a case.” Max pulled his cape aside just enough to reveal the detective’s badge on his pannier. Bill followed suit with a smug grin. “Now let us in, guard.”
“Right away sir!” The young sentry stumbled down the steps as the gate rose in front of them.
***
“I like the way they just opened the rope for us while all those pretty people were in line for lunch.” Bill giggled as he sat down with Max at a fine cherrywood table in the VIP lounge.
“Look at the two of you.” Nigel guffawed at his friends as he ducked under the velvet curtains that closed the lounge off from the rest of the club. “And I thought I had some flash robes!”
“Nigel!” Bill jumped off the cushions and punched his friend in the shoulder. They shook hands warmly. Both of them really were dressed to kill. Nigel’s robes of spun silver whispered coyly as his arm went up and down with the handshake.
“Ahhhh...” Max looked quizzically at Nigel’s smile as he pumped Bill’s hand. “How are the fingers Nigel?” Max recalled that eight of them were still a hundred or so miles north, or being digested by a buzzard sleeping in the tower at Feudal Express.
“Plat-i-num!” Nigel beamed as he lifted his hands to show off his new digits. Each finger was an intricate piece of genius. Fine scrolling enchantments licked like frozen flames up and down each finger. Max was flabbergasted. “On the house. Mr. Daar said that the three of us will be enjoying VIP status for the duration of what he referred to as our ‘almost certainly very short lives’.”
Nigel sat with his friends as a waitress stepped under the curtain. She was gorgeous enough that both Nigel and Max were keenly inspired to say something stupid to her. Bill remained calm, no man had ever slaked his lust so thoroughly as Bill had, he cut his friends off in mid ogle and ordered for the three of them.
“We’ll have three of those delicious restorative alembics... and please make sure that each one has a hint of anise... just a hint.” He lowered his chin to her in deference of her beauty. She smiled suggestively at the knurled dwarf and stepped out with a polite bow that provided the men a proper view of her cleavage.
“When did you get so debonair?” Nigel asked with a smile that faded as the answer peeked into his mind.
“Do not ask that.” Max shook his head.
The waitress returned with Alcinia at her side. All three of the men stood up as she entered.
“Hello boys. Please take a seat.” She purred. A slightly dark smile played across her features. “I’ve had our accountant ring up the sum of your earnings and it would appear that each of you have increased your net worth quite significantly.”
“How much is significant?” Nigel asked, a touch worried by her look.
“Each of you now has twenty five thousand odd crownes to his name.” She put her hands together. “And Max, father asked me to take the liberty of paying the remaining sum of your outstanding debt with the lawyers guild as a token of his esteem.”
“Wow. I’d love to thank him in person for that, if I can-” Max began to stand up again as Alcinia motioned him down.
“Father is in the north right now.” She cast a decidedly hungry glance at Max. “He’s doing some ‘remodeling’ on a new acquisition of his.” A small crowd of figures appeared behind the curtain as Alcinia continued.
“And I’ll leave you to finish the rest of your business by yourselves.” She ducked her head amusedly. “It’s been a pleasure gents, Max.” She gave him one last sexy nod and slid back out of the VIP lounge.
The first man waiting outside the lounge stepped under the curtain and stretched to his full height in front of the table and reported his rank and title.
“Bernard Cumbertree!” He stiffened even further. “First division recruitment office representing the Whalesport Branch of the Adventurer’s Guild!” He bent suddenly and relaxed into a catlike crouch as he smiled oafishly and shook all three of their hands.
“Um, hi.” Nigel offered quizzically. “What are you here to, ah...”
“We would like you to know that we’re all very happy at the guild to have you on board with us!” He continued to grin at them. His heavy suit of ringed mail clinked s he turned from one man to the next. “Really, it’s an honor.”
“Um, I don’t believe we ever applied to the guild...” Max knit his brow at the jubilant officer.
“No, sir, no you haven’t, not yet.” He shook his head and continued to beam. “But I just know you’ll be great to work with!” A small throng of black cloaked figures wafted past the velvet curtain, all three men finished their drinks and the large officer made himself as small and sheepishly non threatening as possible as they entered.
“Mr. Gladivus...” Waldo Adrastos, partner with the firm of Adrastos, Yorick and Radebrechen, swept up to the table and lowered his hood. The warm luxury of the lounge went stale and frigid. “I’m happy to see that you’ve met with so much success.”
“Waldo.” Max nodded. He wished he had another drink, four actually. “I thought we were square.”
“Oh yes sir, we are.” The lawyer smiled cruelly as it was the only sort of smile he could manufacture. “However, the Families of the Victims of the Gynneth Mawr Rampage have leveled a class action lawsuit with you as the defendant.”
“What?” Max leaned towards the wraith, his anger turned his breath hot and then to steam as it bloomed in the lawyer’s face.
“I’m afraid that the families of the bereaved feel that you did not complete your task as adequately as potentially possible.” His grin turned unbearable evil and deathlike. “To that end they are suing you for the loss of property they have incurred as well as the emotional trauma they have experienced as a result of your lack of effort in saving their departed loved ones.”
“You can’t be serious.” Bill’s mouth hung open at the suggestion.
“Oh yes.” The wraith turned to Bill, setting him back into the cushions. “They are very serious.”
“Ahem, if I may, your honor.” Cumbertree cleared his throat and inched forward as he addressed the group.
“I’m not a judge... yet.” Waldo raised an eyebrow to a point. “But do go on.”
“Max and his comrades joined the Adventurer’s Guild in an ad - hoc fashion when they killed the giants and restored the contract the guild had with the town of Gynneth Mawr and it’s associated inhabitants.” He winked at Max. “Therefore any actions of a Guild member would be covered under the guild’s ‘good samaritan’ clause as proffered by our agreement with the Collections and the Lawyers guilds during the management treaty-”
“Yes, yes... but tell me, Cumbertree, if that really is your name, when did these three men join the guild?” Waldo cocked his head.
“Well, I was just signing them up when you all barged in here!” Bernard unrolled three weighty looking scrolls with the signature lines marked in front of the men. “And membership provides retroactive protection against such lawsuits as long as the defendants haven’t been served with a subpoena before the time of signing.”
“Ah, now I get it.” Bill nodded along with his crestfallen friends as Bernard handed them quills.
“Hmmm. I believe I have a subpoena somewhere... Lancaster!” Waldo snapped at the wraith to his right.
Max snatched the papers out of Cumbertree’s hand and slapped his signature on the dotted line with the sort of superhuman speed that his training as a battle mage provided. Lancaster removed the bone white parchment sealed with a black spit of wax as Nigel and Bill followed suit. They realized that the lawsuit would almost certainly be leveled at them next.
“So there you are, sir!” Bernard held the three contracts up for the lawyer to sneer at.
“Yes.” Waldo extended a papery hand to Max. “I believe you will be seeing us again, Mr. Gladivus... here, you might need us one day.” He snapped and a translucent card cleft from a human scapula appeared in his hand. It was printed with the name of the firm and his personal address.
“Good day.” The lawyers put their hoods up and left the room. On their way out Waldo tipped his head to the next trio of figures outside the lounge. “Your turn... your grace.”
“Oh s**t...” Bernard stepped back and tucked away the contracts as he took a knee in supplication.
“What now...” Nigel moaned as the Vicar of Whalesport entered. He looked disgusted to be present in a place of decadence and general good feelings. He was flanked by a pair of deadly looking friars. All three were heavily adorned with collars and sigils encrusted with gold and precious stones.
“Please stand, Guildsman.” The vicar tipped the ends of his fingers to the kneeling officer in the corner. “The church has already collected the Enobled Hand and the Divine Shield of Helios from your... trappings.”
“Right...” Max was getting very tired of the routine. Everybody, absolutely everybody had to get a piece of the action. His uncle Roderick had taught him that when he was still in short pants.
“The church thanks you for that.” The vicar almost offered a nod in gratitude. “And his grace would like you to know that a tithing in victory is also appreciated.”
“Returning the relics of the church wasn’t a sufficient sacrifice?” Max leaned his forehead on his hand in contempt and frustration.
“Good works are their own reward, Master Gladivus, every good Helion knows that.” The vicar smiled as though he was talking to a child. “Which brings me to my point.” Each friar produced a very large and ornately jeweled mace as the vicar continued his explanation.
“Son of a bitch...” Bill slipped.
“Language.” One of the friars glared at him.
“As I was saying, the families of Gynneth Mawr, now more than ever, need your help.” The vicar blinked tearfully and clasped his hands together. “Think of all the suffering they’ve endured.”
“I’m fairly certain they’re all dead.” Nigel offered under the dark stare of the friars. He was no longer easily intimidated by thugs. He knew they died like anyone else if they happened to be decapitated.
“Well, I’m sure that even you know that indulgences aren’t free!” The vicar snapped. He reclaimed his temper and continued. “And neither is reconstruction.” He snapped his fingers and the friars moved up to the table as their maces started to flicker with a golden-white aura.
“Fine...” Max threw up his hands. He knew that no matter how the next fifteen minutes went he wouldn’t be able to outrun the church. “How much?”
“I’d say fifty thousand from the three of you would be sufficient to ensure your temporary salvation.” He smiled.
“Great.” Bill sagged in his seat.
“Excellent. I’ll have my accountants get in touch with your accountant.” The Vicar was very pleased to be on with the rest of his day. He had a feast at five to prepare for.
As the three men left in a cloud of superiority and incense, Cumbertree snuggled into a seat next to the three less well off heroes.
“Oh we’re very happy, really thank you so much for joining!” He pulled the contracts out and handed one to each man. “Now, I should get straight to explaining the dues process, and the mandatory annual contribution to the guild tontine...”
“Waitress!” Nigel called. “Another round please?”
“Make that two, please, darling!” Bill added. He looked over at Max and started to laugh. “Actually, pet, just keep them coming!”
“This is a familiar feeling, isn’t it?” Max grinned at Bill and Nigel as Cumbertree prattled on. “To think that having a few drinks out with friends can change so much, and yet nothing at all.”
“Whatever Max, don’t be such a prat.” Nigel scolded. “We’re a damn sight better off than we were. So shut up and drink.”
“Cheers to that.” Bill raised his glass as the waitress handed one to each of the four of them.
“Cheers!”
