Rutger, standing in front of the doors to Kiningdom Burruh, was the first to see Aidan Herm’s lanky form walking up the trail toward the town guards’ camp. The youth was breathing hard carrying a large pack on his back. Robin looked up from the snack of blueberries he was enjoying when he heard the approaching footsteps.
“What ya got theah Aidan?” asked Robin.
The Runner’s face was flushed and he waved to the Guardsman and he bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. When he could manage it Aidan said, “Got a big jar of pickled vegetables from the Mayor. He said ya left them behind when ya left his office yesterday mornin’. Supposed t’ bring back any news ya might have ‘bout how things ahre goin’ in theah.” He pointed at the doors behind Rutger.
“Ayuh, left them behind ‘cause we didn’t want t’ carry thet heaveh jar all the way out heah. Must of been a chohre runnin’ s’ fahr with it.” Rutger said.
Aidan nodded, then with slightly flushed cheeks he said, “Neveh been out heah. Missed the trail off the road mohre than once. Walked a bit extra.”
Robin took the large earthenware jar from Aidan and set it down next to his foraging bag of blueberries. He realized that the presence of the young man provided a good opportunity to break the news of the goblins’ escape to the Mayor without facing his disappointment personally. “As f’ news, haven’t heard from our folk in theah but a group of goblins, a couple dozen mayhaps, did come outta thet place.”
The Runner looked around as if he expected to see a pile of corpses somewhere in the small camp or in the underbrush. When he saw nothing he asked, “Ya bureh them monstehs?”
Both of the guards looked uncomfortable and Rutger said, “Took us by surprise while we were eatin’ suppeh. Ran off t’ the south, away from town, then tuhrned toward the mountains. Jeffery and ya dad ahre out trackin’ them now.”
Aidan glanced into the forest like a tardy man checking his watch. “Anthin’ else I need t’ tell the Mayor?” he asked, shouldering his pack.
“Ain’t gonna wait t’ talk with ya dad theah Aidan?” Robin asked.
“Didn’t come heah t’ see him. Jest bringin’ them vegetables out and bringin’ thet report of yars back.”
As the Runner turned to go a mirthful voice came from the forest. “Didn’t know they could go through thorns like thet without so much as a scratch. Gotta wondeh how they make goblin babies when a little prick can’t get inside them,” Turin said in a thoughtful deadpan. Jeffery laughed out loud.
“Thet’s a good one, Turin. Ya ought t’ tell jokes more often.” the younger Guardsman told the older.
Aidan looked around and saw that both Rutger and Robin were grinning at the bit of humor. He started to walk to the trail that led back to the narrow road to Knollburah when Turin said, “Aidan! Son! Is thet you?”
The blonde haired young man turned slowly, and braced himself for the scolding he was sure was coming. His father always seemed to have a scolding for him lately. He lifted his light brown eyes to find Turin standing in front of him regarding him with a smile. “Ain’t angereh thet I came out heah?” he asked timidly.
“Come out heah t’ see what ya dad is up t’ did ya theah?” the Guardsman asked his son.
“Mayor Huewen sent me with thet jar of pickled vegetables,” Aidan said with defiance that Turin didn’t seem to notice.
“Course he did. Ya’re the fastest man in Knollburah! Thet jar is a heaveh load. Run all the way with it did ya?” Aidan was shocked to hear pride in his dad’s voice.
“Ain’t angreh they I took the delivereh out heah?” the Runner asked, dumbfounded.
“It’s ya job son. Ya’re fasteh than most dangers ya might come ‘cross anyhow. Mayhaps some weapons trainin’ wouldn’t go amiss jest in case…”
“Ain’t gonna be a guard like you!” the youth exploded.
Turin took a step back in the face of the sudden anger. “Ya’re a Runneh Aidan. Ya always have been. Think ya ran befohre ya walked. Roads can be dangerous is all I mean. When our folk get outta thet place some training with blades undeh Raif or Griffon and the bow undeh Tianna might make the difference f’ ya. Town is too small a place f’ ya to make a livin’. Ya’re gonna have t’ start taking deliverehs ‘tween Knollburah and Fenburah and mayhaps fartheh.”
Aidan was speechless. He blinked a few times then rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t believe that the man in front of him was his father. “Mom won’t like hearin’ any of thet.”
“True wohrds ya speakin’. Mayhaps we’ll need t’ do somethin’ nice f’ her before we talk t’ her ‘bout it. Maybe a few nice things afteh as well,” the grin that spread on the Guardsman’s face was sincere and a contrast to the rueful one the youth had become accustomed to.
Turin looked down at the foraging bag in his hands. “Mind if I send these berrehs back with my boy heah fellas? Waggeh his motheh might like t’ get some.”
“Got these heah,” said Robin, holding up the blueberries he had gathered.
“Ayuh, got plenty,” said Jeffery hoisting his own foraging bag as if it was weighty.
“Take these t’ ya motheh,” Turin lifted the flap of Aidan’s pack and put the bag of berries in it. “Keep track of ya surroundin’s and be safe son.” He gave the Runner a manly hug and, as he did, he whispered, “Know I haven’t been the best to ya Aidan but thet is all oveh. Give ya motheh my love.”
Aidan was so shocked he returned the embrace. Then he turned and started jogging down the trail behind him. A smile crept over his face as it dawned on him that his father was going to help him expand his delivery business.
“How ahre we gonna open them locks theah John?” Griffon asked.
“Thet gun of yars able t’ break them open?” asked Gregory.
“It might but it might not. It might just jam the tumblers permanently and it’d be really dangerous to shoot the locks. The bullet’s likely to ricochet off the metal and hit one of us,” John said.
“Can you do anything to open them,” Dingo Boy asked looking at Nash.
“I don’t know… it’s not like cleaning something or reshaping it… how does a lock work anyway?” the Little Virtue asked thoughtfully.
Timmon stepped forward and looked at the rivets holding the faceplate in place. “Figuhre I got a way t’ get this open. Gotta go back t’ the smithy fihrst. Ain’t fahr an’ Nash has the way all lit up.” He took off at an impressive run.
“He can’t see monsters through walls without me. Will you be alright if I go with him?” the Heeler asked the Marksman.
“Go, catch up to him,” said John and the Cattle Dog raced after the muscular Packer.
The young man and the dog were not gone very long. John was impressed. The round trip to the smithy and back was almost a mile. They clearly ran nonestop at their full speed. Timmon came back with a blacksmith’s hammer in one hand and a large chisel in the other. Dingo Boy was more winded than he was. The dog shook his silver bowl from his pouch and took several lapping drinks.
“Mind makin’ this shahrp?” Timmon asked, handing the chisel to Nash.
The bevelled edge at the tip of the chisel was slightly dulled and dented from use. The Little Virtue concentrated and his eyes brightened as the metal shifted and perfected. When he was done Nash handed the tool back to the Packer saying, “Be careful with that, it’s really sharp!”
“Countin’ on it,” said Timmon with a grin. He placed the cutting edge of the chisel against the topmost rivet and experimentally struck it with the hammer. The metal wedge cut about an eighth of the way through the head of the rivet. He tried again, hitting the chisel harder, and made it almost half way though. It took five ministrations of the hammer and chisel to shear through the rivet, removing its head.
“One down and… one, two, three, fouhr, five… eleven to go,” Tianna said.
By the time Timmon came to the last rivet he was practiced enough to remove its head with a single mighty strike of the hammer against the butt of the chisel. The faceplate did not fall to the floor as he expected it would. At the top of the faceplate he used the hammer to drive the chisel between it and the door and a finger width gap was opened but the thick piece of metal remained in place. He did the same at the bottom, opening another gap but still the faceplate remained attached. Timmon put the tools on the ground and grabbed the top and bottom of the plate. He yanked on it a few times with no result. Then he crouched a little with his feet braced against the door and strained. The cords of his arm muscles stood out and a vein in his neck bulged. There was a creak, then a groan, and finally an ear piercing ‘ping’. The Packer fell on his butt then rolled onto his back with the faceplate in his hands. He dropped it and shook his hands then flexed his fingers.
“Awright theah Tim?” Gregory asked and offered his friend a hand to help him get up.
“Awright Greg,” Timmon said, regaining his feet and almost pulling the Tracker off of his in the process.
With the faceplate removed the innards of the locking mechanism were revealed. John studied it carefully. He was no locksmith but it looked to him like all three keys had to be used at the same time to retract the deadbolt from the doorjam. “I’m not sure exactly how this works but I think there’s still no way to open it without the keys even with it opened like this,” he said.
“Mind if I take a look?” Timmon asked. John stepped to the side. As the younger man approached the door he picked the blacksmith’s hammer up from the stone floor. When he lifted it toward Griffon he thought the Packer was handing him the tool. The Guardsman reached out to take it but the hammer swung away from him and toward the lock. With a mighty crash the mechanism shot out of the door into the room beyond it. A gentle shove from Timmon opened the reinforced door. The combined light from the skylight in the ceiling of the wide hallway and from Shirak the holy light poured into the room and was reflected by a stack of gold ingots and a larger, duller, stack of silver ingots. They were sitting against the back wall of the small room and they were surrounded by several chests of different sizes.
“Thet’s mohre than a little gold an’ silveh theah,” said Sebastian. Tianna whistled and Dingo Boy barked.
They wouldn’t all fit in the small treasure room at the same time. It was about John’s wingspan deep and less than twice that wide. Most of the floorspace was occupied by precious metals and chests. Raif stepped in first and picked up a small chest. He brought it out and when he opened it they saw that it was full of faceted diamonds of varied sizes and clarity. He handed it to John and the Marksman put it in the same pocket he’d used to collect the hobgoblin King’s horde. Next Griffon went in and came back with one of four slightly larger chests. When he opened it they discovered that it was full of emeralds faceted and varied just as the diamonds had been. It also went into John’s pocket.
“Time f’ me to have a go!” Tianna said in delight and bounced into the small treasure room to return with another of the four similar chests. This one contained star sapphires that were cabbed and polished. Though their sizes and quality were all different they were all beautiful. The chest joined the others in John’s pocket.
“My turn,” said the Heeler and he dragged another of the four matching chests out. John opened it for him and the Cattle Dog licked his face in appreciation. The rubies that filled the chest were, like the emeralds and diamonds, faceted and gradient in quality. Dingo Boy nosed John’s jacket, telling the man to put it with the rest in his pocket.
Gregory just cleared his throat as he went in then returned with the last of the four smallish chests. Inside was a plethora of amethysts all faceted like the rest of the gems. Some of them were clear as water and others contained beautiful inclusions. “Figuhre we’ll be tuhrnin’ all this oveh t’ the Mayor. Best plan is t’ have ya carry it f’ now,” he said to John handing over the chest to be stored with the rest.
Timmon was last to enter the room. He bent over the final and largest chest and tried to lift it. He could not do it. He strained and grunted but the larger chest remained in place. He opened it and discovered that it was full of gold coins. They matched the others they’d found in the Underground Kingdom. “By Gorry!” he said and he backed out of the room. The rest of the party took turns peaking in at the chest filled with gleaming currency.
Raif put his hand on John’s shoulder and asked, “Mind gettin’ the rest theah John?”
“Do I mind carrying enough precious metals to buy an island and retire on it? Twist my arm,” the Marksman joked. Timmon stepped forward to oblige with a laughing grin and John held up his hands in surrender. They both chuckled. He backed into the small room to collect the rest of the treasure. After transferring the gold coins into his pocket he hoisted the empty chest into it as well. Last he loaded the gold and silver ingots, one by one, into his jacket.
It was late morning when Joy arrived at the inn with several large pieces of paper rolled into a tube that she brandished like a sword. Tannyah was wiping tables and chairs clean to get ready for the lunch rush. Truth be told it was her second time cleaning the tables and chairs, she was keeping herself busy. The time passed far too slowly if she didn’t.
“What ya got theah Joy?” the Barmaid asked the Seamstress.
“Rune heahrd ‘bout yar comin’ marriage an’ he sent me with some of his old sketches of weddin’ dresses,” Joy said. She snatched the cleaning towel from her taller cousin’s hand and tossed it onto a table. They hugged and sat at the nearest table, both of them excited to look at the Tailor’s work.
Joy produced four paperweights from the handbag she wore over her shoulder. She spread the first drawing out on the table and used them to hold down the corners. The dress in the sketch had no train, it ended at the ankles. There were short fringes along the hemline as well as the neckline. It left the shoulders bare but had a modest cut revealing very little of the wearer’s chest. The sleeves were tight, lace, and ended at the wrists.
“Right hat might finish this one off nicely,” Joy said, “somethin’ with an uptuhrned brim an’ a shohrt veil…” She glanced at Tannyah and the frown she found on her cousin’s face led her to take away the paperweights, roll up the paper, and set it aside.
The next sketch to be rolled out and weighted at the corners was of a very modest dress. It was ankle length with long sleeves and a choker style neckline. Seven buttons held the top shut from the navel to the base of the neck. Two wide bands of lace wrapped around the skirt just above the hemline. Two more wrapped around the sleeves near the armpit and the wrist.
“Thet a funeral dress or a weddin’ dress?” Tannyah asked. The question set them off on a fit of giggles that caught Owen’s attention.
They didn’t notice when he walked out of the kitchen and peaked at what they were doing. He stole back into the kitchen and returned with a teapot, two cups, cream, and honey which he placed on a table near them. Then he went back to the kitchen and brought out slices of bread and a bowl of berry jam to go with them. “Little bit of somethin’ on the table f’ ya,” he said over his shoulder as he went back to his experimentation in the kitchen.
Tannyah served them both from the refreshments her father had provided. When she returned to her seat next to Joy there was another sketch waiting for her. Unlike the other sketches this one showed both the front and back of the garment instead of an intermediate view of front and side. The dress on the page had a long flowing train on bottom and a tight corset style top. The back was laced up and tied in a long bow at the bottom. The neckline was less than modest but not scandalous. It featured bare shoulders because the sleeves were completely detached from the rest of the dress. They were mini versions of the body of the dress with corset style cuffs over the upper arm that were connected to flowing skirt-like sleeves that ended just a few inches above the wrist.
“Neveh seen anythin’ so beautiful in my life,” Tannyah breathed. Joy’s smile was wide, shone in her eyes, and was accompanied by a light blush on her cheeks. “That’s the winneh right theah.” said the bride-to-be.
“Should look at the rest,” the Seamstress said, “might see somethin’ ya like betteh than this one.” When she rolled up the sketch and set it next to the first two that were rejected her cousin took it and set it next to her protectively. “Ya really like it?” Joy asked.
“This heah is the dress I’m gettin’ married in Joy,” the Barmaid said.
The next sketch featured a very traditional dress with a bell shaped skirt that had a button up shirt attached to it. The neckline was low but modest and square cut to attach to the long sleeves at the shoulders. It was lace from the waist up, modesty preserved by an underlayer of fabric behind the openwork.
“Fine dress f’ any season but Summeh,” Tannyah said simply and stood to get them refills of tea and bread with jam. When she returned Joy had the next sketch laid out on the table with the paperweights at its corners.
The dress drawn out on the page was all flowing fabric without any lace present. A moderate train defined the bottom of the skirt. The wedge shaped neckline was low but cut such that it wasn’t too revealing. The top and the skirt were in two pieces. The hemline of the top was cut high in front and it came to a pointed shirttail in the back that rested on the skirt. The sleeves were very short but managed to flow and drape like the rest of the dress.
“Bit shorteh at the bottom an’ thet’d be a very nice dress f’ wohrkin’ heah in the inn,” said Tannyah. “Might have t’ show this t’ my dad an’ ask ‘bout getting one f’ these warmeh days an’ nights.”
“Figuhre ya got a point theah Tanny. It’s a plain dress f’ a weddin’. Looks really comfohrtable anyhow,” Joy said as she rolled up the paper and laid out the last sketch she’d brought.
“Bastian might like thet one but my mom and dad wouldn’t f’ sure,” the bride-to-be said. The dress sketched on the page had a long train and was very form fitting. It was mostly lace with no underlayer except over the most vital areas to cover. The neckline was lower than anything Tannyah had ever seen anyone in Knollburah wear. The long sleeves, like the rest of the dress, were all lace. “Betteh f’ the weddin’ night than the weddin’ day if it was really shohrt an’ without the sleeves,” mused the Barmaid.
“Think somethin’ like that would be populah?” Joy asked, “Things t’ wear only f’ the bedroom?”
“Populah with the menfolk f’ suhre,” said Tanny. She picked up the sketch of her favorite dress and handed it to Joy. “This is it Joy. This heah is the dress I’ll be wearin’ when I get married.”
Joy gave her cousin a hug and squeezed extra hard. When they separated she held up the rolled paper Tannyah had given her and said, “Know what Cousin? This heah is the dress I made up jest f’ ya Tanny.”
“Rune didn’t draw this himself? Ya drew this Joy? Made it up jest f’ me?” The Barmaid’s mouth quirked in a smile and tears moistened her eyes.
With tears of her own forming in her eyes Joy said, “Jest f’ ya cousin, jest f’ ya.”
The group of red auras heading for the party of adventures were obviously not giant rats. Dingo Boy’s Friend or Foe Sight gave John plenty of time to get everyone ready for the conflict. As the Marksman realized he was looking at a mass of large snakes the archers flanking him drew and loosed. He started firing and the corridor filled with crashing echoes. Seven of the coming auras winked out and one faded. The revolver’s cylinder emitted light as Nash reloaded a round and the archers moved to their fallback positions. Dingo Boy stood next to John ready to hold the line. The Purgated had the best chance of withstanding a venomous bite. The snakes were the smallest they’d faced in Kiningdom Burruh. They could have been pythons except for the eyeless heads and white coloring. John fired twice more and two more arrows sped forward as four more of the slithering auras vanished. The last five snakes stopped and reared when they got close enough to strike. John shot one of them in the head and the remaining four lunged.
Dingo Boy leapt over the one that attacked him. The jump was just high enough to clear the danger. He grabbed it behind the head as he landed and started thrashing it. Another bit into the Heeler’s hindquarter. He continued to thrash his victim until it was dead then turned and grabbed the snake that had him and pulled. It would not relent and Griffon stepped forward to cut the serpent’s head off. The body writhed and the head dropped from the dog. Dingo Boy turned to help John who had caught the last two snakes by letting them bite the impenetrable sleeves of his coat. The Cattle Dog hadn’t managed to turn completely toward his buddy when he fell on his side and all of the green and red auras faded out. He closed his eyes, moaned, and spasmed.
The Marksman saw his trusted companion fall in his peripheral vision. He dropped his firearm and swung his arms down then whipped them forward. The momentum straightened his enemies’ bodies out and he grabbed them; the right one in his left hand and the left one in his right hand. In a quick motion he spread his arms, yanking the snakes from his sleeves, then smashed their heads into the ground. He smashed them again and again then tossed the corpses down the corridor. The Cattle Dog had stopped convulsing as he dropped to his knees next to him.
“You okay Dingo Boy?” John asked. There was no answer. The dog’s ragged breathing smoothed out as the anxious party watched. The wound on his leg was a swollen knot. John used his waterskin to rinse it and found that the punctures were gone. “Good, you’re healing,” he said.
“Somewheah we can secuhre would be a betteh place than heah t’ care f’ him,” Raif said.
John nodded and bent to pick-up the unconscious dingo mix. Timmon laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “Keep yar hands f’ the light and yar weapon, I’ll carry him.”
Nash materialized next to them. “He’s right John,” said the Little Virtue. He reached down and gently scratched his canine partner behind an ear. “Let Tim carry Dingo Boy. I’ll go ahead to scout.”
“Yar not a fighteh theah Nash,” Gregory said, the concern was plain in his voice.
“If I run into any trouble I’ll return to my anchor.” The Tracker’s brow furrowed and the Little Virtue explained, “I’ll disappear.”
“Handy thet,” said Tim.
John bent and picked up his revolver then he grabbed all of the big serpents they’d killed and put them in his pocket. “Waste not, want not,” he said when he saw Sebastian’s questioning look. Griffon nodded and pointed at John.
They moved down the hall, feeling exposed without the aid of the Heeler’s Friend or Foe Sight. Nash went ahead of them at the leading edge of the island of light created by Shirak. He cleaned the skylights in the ceiling as they went. Not far down the wide hallway he found a doorway in the right side or the corridor. Shrunken down to human size he crept silently to the door and found that it was open. Cautiously he peered around the doorjam, into the darkness. He hadn’t cleaned the skylight in the ceiling outside of the room and he could see nothing beyond the portal. With a shrug he grew tall enough to clean the glass pillar above him then he returned to human size and looked into the dimly lit room. It was still very dark beyond the doorway but he could vaguely see a huge serpent curled up in the center of the room. A large lump in its body suggested it had recently eaten a great rat. He turned and crept back to the waiting party.
“There’s a snake in there,” he told them in a whisper.
“How big?” asked Raif.
“Big enough to eat a giant rat. At least I think that’s what’s inside it,” Nash said thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure it’s sleeping off a meal.”
“Let’s do this quietly,” John whispered. “Swordsmen go in first to give cover to the archers.” He turned to Tianna and Sebastian and said, “take up positions inside the doorway on each side. I’ll take the middle. I’ll provide light and back you up if the four of you can’t take it down.”
Everyone nodded their agreement, put in their earplugs, and moved quietly to the doorway. Nash vanished into the Marksman’s firearm. John converted Shirak to floodlight mode as everyone took their positions. The archers nocked their arrows and he shined the light into the room. A snake, similar in size to the first one they encountered in the Underground Kingdom, lay curled up in the middle of the stone floor. It had a large lump in the middle of its body. The swordsman moved to the sides to give the archers a clear shot. The snake’s tongue flicked lazily from its mouth then again several more times with increasing vigor. Its head began to lift from the floor and two arrows sprouted from it. It started to thrash and the swordsmen stepped forward with their blades held out in a guarding position. The thrashing became a quivering then the massive serpent stilled.
Nash materialized and began cleaning the skylights in the large room. Timmon lay Dingo Boy down on one of two large tables in the center of the room. John set the holy light, in torch mode, next to his beloved friend. Gregory closed the door and used a chair to block it shut. Around the perimeter of the room were several primitive faceting and cabbing machines, large flat grinding stones of varied roughness spun using a treadle. There were crates between the machines with rough stones and gemstones in them. There were more on a few of the machines that were partially worked.
“Leg looks betteh,” Sebastian said, examining Dingo Boys snakebite.
“Yeah, the swelling is gone,” John said, touching it gently.
Dingo Boy stirred, stretched, and sat up. “My head feels… fuzzy…” he said.
“Ayuh, looks fuzzy,” Tianna said with a grin. “Gonna be awright theah?”
“I’d be better if I had some cheese,” said the Heeler and he wagged his tail weakly.
“You got it,” said John and he started pulling lunch out of his pocket.
A light summer shower swept through the guards’ camp outside of Kiningdom Burruh. They huddled under the eave in front of the large carved doors and waited for it to pass. The coals in their firepit steamed under the layer of ash that hid them. The sun never stopped shining during the warm rain. Mist formed and danced through the rays of light as they passed between the bows of the trees surrounding the camp.
“Thet theah is a smell t’ pay good coin f’ boys,” said Turin and he inhaled deeply. “Figuhre it’s ‘bout time f’ a bit of lunch?”
Robin was Turin’s senior by two years but Turin was always thought of as the older of the two. The sudden change in his attitude, however, seemed to have shaved a decade off of the Guardsman. After his son had left he swept the camp, retrieved kettles of water several times to refill the groups’ waterskins, and volunteered to take a shift guarding the doors.
“Wondeh if thet man’s awright,” Robin said to Rutger in a low voice as Turin settled in his place around the smoldering firepit with the jar of pickled vegetables his son had brought that morning.
“Wageh he had the dream last night,” Jeffery said, his voice low as well.
“Say somethin’ ‘bout it?” asked Robin.
“Not ‘bout havin’ it but ‘bout why it might come,” Jeffery said.
“A change like this oveh the dream?” asked Robin. The other two men looked at him and he said, “Comes t’ all of us now an’ again.”
Rutger looked thoughtful and declared, “Been since befohre my voice squeaked f’ me.”
Jeffery nodded his agreement. “Mayhaps if it’s comin’ now an’ ‘gain some changes of ya own may be needed?” he said to Robin.
They all walked over to join Turin for lunch. The hardtack was still hardtack but the fresh berries, pickled vegetables, cheese, and dried meat went a long way to adding flavor and depth to the meal. Tea made with fresh water from the stream boiled in the kettle on coals coaxed back to life in the firepit completed the meal.
“Might dig up some of them hostas oveh theah f’ suppeh,” said Turin, pointing to the plants in the underbrush.
“Saw a few earth apples down the trail we followed this mornin’ thet might go right nice with them hosta roots,” Jeffery said.
“A little butteh an’ we’d have a feast,” said Rutger. “Brings days of youth t’ mind.”
“Ayuh, callin’ potatoes by ‘earth apples’ does as well. Haven’t heahrd thet since my grandmotheh was with us,” Turin said.
They sat in quiet reminiscence for a long while. Jeffery broke the silence when he said, “Like t’ know how our folk are doin’ in thet place.”
“No wohrd afteh a couple nights mohre an’ we’ll talk t’ the mayoh ‘bout what t’ do next,” said Turin.
“Meanin’ we convince him t’ seal them dohrs shut?” Rutger asked.
“Meanin’ mayhaps we bring as many guahrds as we can an’ we bring our folk outta theah in one piece or no,” said Turing with grim determination.
“Sure ya can tell but thet bowl is bread an’ meant t’ be eaten,” Tannyah said with pride. It wasn’t her idea but she was proud of it nonetheless.
“Thet theah bowl is the bread f’ the meal?” asked Mayor Huewen Srives. “Owen come up with this one on his own?”
“Ayuh, figuhre he jest needed t’ see thet mohre than stew could be sehrved in this old place.”
The smile that spread on the Mayor’s face and reflected in his eyes when he tried the thick soup showed clearly what he thought of the meal. “Thank ya kindly and thank ya fatheh as well,” Mayor Huewen said. Tannyah gave him a nod and a smile and headed off to the kitchen.
The Innkeeper was mincing with a speed she’d never seen before. After baking rounds of bread, large rolls the size of bowls, he’d cut the center out of the top and hollowed them partially. He set them aside and minced the recovered crust and bread until it was virtually a powder. Then he cooked the minced bread, chopped onion and mushroom in a pot in a little oil and spices until they turned brown. The pot sizzled as he added water to it to make a thick maceration full of rich flavor. The bread bowls were filled with it and topped with a pinch of fresh marjoram to create a filling and satisfying lunch.
“The Mayoh says ‘thank ya kindly’. Figuhre he was impressed. Feelin’ thet way myself. Ya’re a wondeh dad.” She gave him a quick hug and filled her tray with plates containing her father’s latest creation. As she walked out through the doorway she glanced back and caught Owen wiping tears from his eyes.
By the time the Kiningdom Burruh party had finished a light lunch of bread, cheese, and dried meat the Heeler was feeling like himself again. During their meal Dingo Boy’s Friend or Foe Sight wrapped them all in their green auras once more. John recovered the great snake the archers had killed, putting it in his pocket with the rest.
As they were preparing to leave the workshop they saw the red auras of a group of great rats run down the wide hallway outside the blocked door. They were headed back the way the party had come and they were followed by several giant snakes. John watched them go thoughtfully and asked Griffon and Raif, “Can you fight with the shields we took from the armory?”
“Trained t’ but don’t prefeh it,” said Raif and Griffon nodded his agreement.
“I don’t think any of you would survive the venom in those snakes’ bites. Maybe both of you as well as Tim and Greg should carry shields?” John asked.
After some contemplation Tim said, “Two f’ me mayhaps. Might have a plan.”
The Cattle dog shook two of the broadhead shaped bucklers from his left pouch. Their solid unadorned construction spoke of utilitarian practicality. On the backside of each one was a leather gauntlet with two straps that tightened it to the forearm. A metal handle provided a solid grip toward the pointed end. Timmon fitted one to his left arm and Gregory helped him fit the other to his right arm. He couldn’t use his hands with the shields in place but after throwing a few punches he demonstrated their offensive potential.
“Wouldn’t want t’ take no blow from one of them,” Gregory said, watching his friend experiment with potential attacks and defensive moves.
“Wouldn’t want t’ take a blow from one of them,” Timmon corrected.
“Don’t have t’ worry ‘bout that Tim, them shields are strapped t’ yar arms not t’ mine,” said Gregory.
“Figuhe I’ll use one of them theah bucklehs,” said Griffon after watching the Packer’s display.
“Ayuh, one f’ me as well,” said Gregory.
“Mayhaps a second swohrd f’ me,” Raif said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Dingo boy shook the requested gear from his left pouch. Raif stepped forward quickly and caught the sword before it could clatter to the floor. After he strapped the scabbard to his waist he moved to an open spot in the workshop and practiced Heaven Six Sinawali, both the strikes and the blocks, with his new blades.
“Thet’s pretty,” Tianna said. She’d seen the moves before but watching the Guardsman perform them with the Kiningdom Burruh swords while wearing the Kiningdom Burruh armor was moving. “almost makes me yearn t’ be a swordswoman.”
“Neveh huhrts t’ know more than one thing,” Raif said, sliding one sword into its scabbard and holding the other out toward Nash with a grin.
The Little Virtue returned the grin, reached out, and touched the blade. His eyes flashed brightly and he let go of it. “Be careful with that, it’s really sharp!” he said.
“Quick wohrk theah,” said the Guardsman.
“Yeah,” Nash said thoughtfully, “it seems like I can sharpen things a lot faster since last night. I can clean the big pieces of glass in the ceiling really quickly now too.”
“Gonna take all this heah?” asked Sebastian sweeping his arm in a wide arc to indicate the rough stones and gemstones in the crates and strewn about the lapidary equipment.
“Not suhre thet’s treasuhre. Not yet anyhow.” Tim said.
“Ayuh,” said Tianna, “thet coat of John’s got deep pockets but they ain’t endless.” She thought for a moment and asked the Marksman, “Yar pockets aint endless ahre they?”
He answered, shaking his head, “Nope.”
She nodded and said, “Mayhaps it’d be best t’ leave some things behind. We’ll tell Mayor Huewen ‘bout them an’ if he wants them he can send out ‘nother group t’ get them.”
“Sounds like mohre work f’ us guahrds,” said Raif.
“Figuhe with the monstehs getting cleared out of his place an’ the Celesti… pardon… Nash bringin’ daylight back t’ it some folk may be wantin’ t’ visit heah?” asked Timmon, “Mayhaps even live heah instead of town?”
Griffon shot the Packer a surprised look that became thoughtful, “Be needin’ mohre folk f’ thet. F’ this t’ be a place t’ live in thet is. Ya’d need a Mayor an’ shop ownehs an’ guahrds an’ everythin’ else.”
“Ayuh,” Timmon said and he reached out to move the chair from in front of the door only to fumble with it because of the shields covering both of his forearms and hands.
The party of adventurers walked down the corridor glancing into doorways and checking behind closed doors. The section of the Underground Kingdom they were in was filled with storerooms, shops, and workspaces. There was a lot of useful gear and other goods but nothing that qualified as treasure. The wide hallway ended in a set of double doors that stood open. As they approached the terminus they could see the red aura of a truly massive snake beyond it. The titanic creature was curled up with its head resting on its body.
“Gonna distract this one like ya did the one in the throne room theah John?” Tianna asked with a smirk.
“Probably not. Looking at the size of that monster I think it could swallow me whole,” replied the Marksman.
“What’s the plan?” Raif asked.
“We attack it with everything we got?” John asked and everyone gave him skeptical looks.
“Hold out your shields,” Nash told Timmon. When he did the Little Virtue laid his hands on the metal bucklers and his eyes blazed with an intense light. The edges of the shields sharpened rapidly. The metal flowed like water as they watched. “Be careful with those, they’re really sharp!” he warned and the Packer nodded.
John gazed toward the monster at the end of the hall for a moment then said, “Alright, the archers and I will go in first so our lines of fire are clear. Once we’re inside, Tianna and Sebastian, you spread out. Greg and Tim, stay with them. Dingo Boy and I will take the center position. Griffon and Raif, you should flank us with enough room to move freely. The ranged fighters will concentrate fire on that thing’s head. When the snake rears the swordsmen should attack its body. If it gives any indication of striking at any of you move to the sides. Everyone stays spread out, don’t crowd each other. Movement is our best defense.”
Everyone donned their earplugs, the Tracker putting in the Packer’s for him. Nash dematerialized into his anchor. The Marksman and the Heeler took the front and center position and the archers flanked them. The swordsman took up the middle positions and the protectors came last. Timmon was standing as far from Gregory as possible, being extra careful with his sharpened bucklers. John made eye contact with each member of the party and they nodded to him in turn, signaling their readiness. The man and the Cattle Dog started sprinting down the corridor leaving the rest of them behind. The Marksman hardly noticed the beautiful chime that rang out in his head or the word ‘Fortitude’ spoken within it.
The gigantic white serpent, many times larger than any they’d seen so far, flicked its tongue to taste the air as they approached. The room that it was in was one of the largest the party had seen in the Underground Kingdom. Only the chamber with the cisterns turned breeding pits was larger. There were clutches of eggs in all four of the corners of the room. They had the red auras of rattlesnake sized babies inside of them.
John drew his revolver as he came to a stop and the Cattle Dog took a wide stance. Six crashes of thunder filled the room, six holes dotted the snake’s great eyeless head, and the firearms cylinder flashed in one chamber after the other as the rounds reloaded with unprecedented speed. The archers loosed their arrows. The projectiles dug furrows through flesh and tore away scales but did not penetrate the skull. The snake’s coils, already packed under it, started to rearrange themselves as it lifted its head.
“Archers spread out further! Shoot for the neck!” John shouted.
“Wheah’s the neck? Looks like it’s all neck!” Sebastian shouted back as he and Tianna readied their bows on the move.
“It must be somewhere under the head,” the Heeler said.
John was activating his Marksman skill over and over. The time dilation was making it impossible to answer them. He picked a spot where an eye should be and hit that spot over and over again.
Griffon and Raif ran forward and sunk their blades into the huge body. Blood gushed from the wounds. Raif moved to reposition himself, looking for something vital to strike at. Arrows sunk into the snake below its head, only the fletchings remained visible. Griffon hacked at a coil that shrunk away from him then it suddenly expanded toward him. The wall of white scales lifted him from his feet and carried him across the room slamming him into the wall. The sudden movement drew everyone’s attention.
“Griff!” screamed Raif as the green aura surrounding the stricken guardsman winked out. He raced across the room and hacked at the snake using both his swords with a ferocity born of sudden grief. The serpent pulled the coil back, removing it from the source of pain and injury. The snake’s head turned toward Raif and it opened its mouth, preparing to strike.
“No Tim!” Gregory yelled to the muscular Packer who ran toward the massive monster with the sharpened bucklers strapped to his arms. He sunk them deep into the white scaly body and blood flowed over him. He yanked them out and slashed several times leaving long lines of parted flesh. Two more arrows sunk into the snake as it shifted its focus to Timmon. Its massive fangs dripped venom and the head repositioned to strike.
Griffon’s sudden death paralyzed John and he struggled to recover from it. When he realized another was about to occur, he activated his Marksman skill. In the respite that followed he let his heart ache. He watched a chamber in his gun’s cylinder stop glowing and another start. Griffon’s wide grin flashed through his mind. For a moment he was exchanging blows with the man training with practice swords. The Guardsman was entering the smithy wearing his new scalemail armor. Then John was firing into the open maw of the gigantic serpent, into the roof of the mouth, into the brain beyond. He continued to activate his Marksman skill and fire over and over. Nash was reloading rounds fast enough that the booming echoes pounded out a rapid dirge in the large room. Finally, the snake’s head twitched and fell backward, its body quivered.
They all gathered around Griffon and Raif. The living Guardsman holding the hand of the dead one. “We can’t leave him,” Raif said in a broken voice.
“We won’t,” the Cattle Dog said and he came to sit next to Griffon’s body. He brushed his pouch against the corpse and it vanished. Raif stood, startled, looking at his empty hand. “He’ll be safe with me.” Dingo Boy said and then he howled a long and mournful howl.
“Can have this back,” Raif said. He placed one of the Kiningdom Burruh swords he’d been using on the stone floor. He’d cleaned it and returned it to its scabbard. He walked across the room and picked Griffon’s sword up from the floor where it had fallen. He held it for long moments examining it in the sunlight that a colossus Nash was bringing into the large room as he cleaned the skylights set into the ceiling high above. A gentle and muffled ‘woof’ sounded behind him. When he turned, he found Dingo Boy with the scabbard for Griffon’s sword held in his muzzle. Without a word he took it and strapped it to his hip.
Sebastian, Timmon, and Gregory went to each corner of the room using their knives to destroy every egg they found, extinguishing the red auras inside. It was grim and messy work. When they were done Dingo Boy produced his mystical silver bowl for them so they could use it to wash off the gore.
In the back wall of the room the party found a large reinforced door. It was barred shut with two sturdy wooden planks but it had no locks. They couldn’t see any red auras on the other side of it so they opened it and found the worked walls of a mine.
“Could be anythin’ in theah,” Tianna said. “searchin’ it could take some time.”
Nash finished cleaning the last of the skylights and returned to human size. He walked to them and peered into the mine. “I’m not sure how far I can go from my anchor now but I can take the holy light and see if there’s any monsters in there.” His normally chipper voice was subdued.
John had Shirak in his hand in torch mode. He handed it to the Little Virtue and said solemnly, “Be careful with this. Pay attention to how you feel. If you feel yourself start to disappear, come back right away.”
The Little Virtue shrunk and flew around the room then shrunk and flew some more. He kept experimenting until he found the smallest size he could be while still lifting and maneuvering well with the artifact in flight. As he glided by John he said, “I’ll be careful.” Then he raced into the mine. The light receded down the tunnel rapidly.
“Figuhe this is it?” Sebastian asked John.
“We’ve checked everything on this side of the collapsed corridor and most of what’s on the other side. If Nash doesn’t find anything in the mine we should return to the smithy for the night. In the morning, we can go back through the secret passage and keep cleaning that side out.”
“Back t’ thet stink?” Gregory asked with revulsion on his face.
“Ayuh,” said Timmon sympathetically, “back t’ thet stink. Only way outta heah Greg.”
Raif stared stoically into the darkness of the mine. Tianna reached out and grasped his shoulder. He glanced at her and the loss in his eyes broke her heart anew. “We can head f’ them outside dohrs in the mornin’ and ya can trade off with one of them fellas out theah Raif.”
“Might jest Tianna, might do thet,” he said in a near whisper.
Raif stayed and watched for Nash to return and the rest of the Party explored the room. There were piles of raw ore of various metals as well as rough gemstones all of which they left behind. They used their angelically sharpened blades to harvest massive chunks of snake skin and meat.
Eventually the Little Virtue returned and reported that the mines were devoid of monsters. His flight through the twists and turns of the shafts cut through the rock of the foothills had been exhilarating but his heart was too heavy with loss to enjoy it.
Their journey back to the smithy was a somber one. They all stole glances at Raif who walked with his shoulders slumped and the muzzle shaped faceguard of his helmet dangling from one strap. No one could think of anything to say to him that would help but they all tried at one point or another. He would thank them each for their words.
When it was John’s turn he said, “I’m so sorry Raif. Griffon was a good man. He made me feel welcome even though I was a stranger.”
Raif met his eyes and said, “Did the same f’ me once. More than once I figuhe. Thank ya f’ the nice words John.”
John considered the parallels of his purgation and the multiple lives the other people in his party lived to bring them closer to God and Heaven and he said, “My parents taught me to pray for those who have died.” Raif met his eyes again and he saw something there he couldn’t name. It wasn’t anger or resentment so he asked, “Do you mind if I keep Griffon in my prayers? I believe in God’s promises, I know they come to us in our time.” The words ‘Faith’ and ‘Hope’ were spoken in the chimes that rang from everywhere and nowhere and only John heard.
“Thet’d be a fine thing John, thanks again,” said the Guardsman and he wiped at his eyes as he turned away.
When they reached the smithy they visited the latrine across the corridor before going in to have dinner and bed down. When Tianna took her turn John could hear her weeping in the privacy of the restroom. After securing the door he pulled out slices of pizza and they had a cheerless dinner. Later they all fell asleep with a chill emptiness inside that the warmth of the forge could not touch.
“Sorry f’ dyin’ on ya like thet,” Griffon said to Raif from across the table. They were in the common room of the Wolf’s Head Inn and they were alone. Each of them had a pint in front of him. Griffon took a drink from his and smiled. Raif tried to do the same but he couldn’t lift the wooden mug. Griffon gave him an apologetic grin and said, “Sorry ‘bout thet too. It’s a drink from Paradise Everlastin’ an’ it seems ya not ready f’ it.”
“Thet wheah ya went?” Raif asked. “Afeh…” he couldn’t say the words.
“Ayuh, jest f’ a little while though. Turns out we all get to visit f’ a little while ‘tween our lives. Not t’ the whole of the place mind ya, jest t’ a small corneh. A bit of rewahrd f’ when we live a life thet brings us closeh to Him.”
“Gonna miss ya Griff,” the sadness in Raif’s heart overflowed and poured from his eyes.
“Gonna miss ya too Raif.” The black haired man’s hazel eyes looked thoughtful and he said, “Figuhe I’ll see ya in the dreams thet are memories in the next life anyhow.”
“Don’t believe in any of thet Griff. How could I be in yar dreams? The ones thet move you closeh to Paradise Everlastin’ when I don’t believe?”
“How could ya not be? Talked to ya ‘bout Gorry an’ the Way mohre than I eveh did with anyone else. Neveh told ya but talkin’ t’ ya ‘bout it all brought me closeh to the Path than I’d eveh been. Tryin’ t’ convince ya convinced me. Was strugglin’ with it all when we met, wasn’t strugglin’ at all when we pahrted. Follow the path Raif, this heah is a very fine pint and I’d like t’ share plenty with ya in the end.”