High gloom, p.9
High Gloom, page 9
part #6 of The Bad Guys Series
I patted his knee and tried to ignore his shiny eyes. I knew if I saw the tears actually run down his face, I’d be done for.
“I am sorry to say that I don’t know where you are from,” I said. “Or your name.”
“Calden Tardring,” he said, putting his hand out.
I gripped his wrist. “Clyde Hatchett.”
“Your grasp of our language is quite flawless,” he said, “especially for someone who says he has no idea where we are from.”
“Were you running from a war there?”
He nodded. “Most of us. We fled Decitown as the Kreen marched through Eploinia. When we crossed into Riabuush, we were ambushed by orcs and our numbers were... we lost many. But we made it to Spoolloa, where we booked passage north, thinking we would stay on Kezzel Isle until the conflict settled. Or perhaps just remain there. But that was not to be. Once at sea, we were chased down by pirates, and I thought our story was to end underground.”
“It’s not over yet,” I said.
“Thanks to you, we continue on.”
“Would you still like to get to, uh, Kezzel Isle?”
He raised his eyebrows, and looked at me like I was mad. “Clyde Hatchett, I have little to no idea where we are, or how far away Kezzel Isle might be. We have been locked in cages for over a month, traveling in darkness. Why do you ask?”
“The, uh, the lord who runs this joint — he doesn’t think this place isn’t suitable for, uh, children and, um, non-combatants, I guess. So he’s pretty keen on getting you somewhere like home, and I think he has the means to make it happen. And you’re in Raim, by the way.”
“Raim. I think I have heard stories of a place called Raim, but I cannot say I know it well. Any other landmarks nearby?”
“Carchedon is to the west a ways.”
“Carchedon? Gods, we are far from home.”
“Maybe time for a new home, eh?”
“I daresay. If I what I have heard about Carchedon is true, we would hardly be better off there than back with the goblins.”
He had a point. I couldn’t imagine going into Carchedon without loads of money or power was wise. You’d wind up a slave in a matter of weeks. I sighed, because what I was about to say was really just becoming a bad habit.
“I can probably offer you a place to live,” I said, hoping Matthew hadn’t filled all the empty apartments back in Glaton.
“In Carchedon?” He asked, surprised.
“Glaton.”
Calden’s eyes went even wider. “The Empire of Glaton?”
“Is that something you would be interested in?”
“I am not the leader for all here. I cannot speak for them, but I would certainly take my family there, yes.”
“Tell you what? You speak to your people, I’ll speak to mine, and we’ll meet in the middle and figure this out.”
He nodded vigorously, and was out of his chair before I could stand up.
The group of survivors began talking to each other, excited.
I walked over to my group and put my best smile on.
“I’m not going down,” Crutchley said. “I’m sorry, but—”
I held up my hands. “Not to worry. I have a different job for you, if you want it.”
“What job?” He asked, suddenly suspicious.
“How much would it cost to hire you to get back to Glaton?”
“I’m going there anyway— wait, why?”
“Those people need a new home, and I offered them a place in Glaton. I can’t go back with them, not yet at least. So I need someone to shepherd them there safely. Make sure they meet up with my people there.”
“Your people?”
“He has people,” Mornax said. “And nice apartments. Are you giving them some apartments?”
“He just gives away places to live?” Crutchley asked, looking at Mornax but pointing at me.
“Gave one to me and Nox.”
“Can I have one?” Garnish asked.
“If you want to live in Glaton,” I said with a shrug, “then sure. Might need to share, depending on what’s going on there, but not sure you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of busy here.”
“Not sure you remember,” Crutchley said, “but there’s an invasion happening, or a siege, or something worse. Glaton isn’t exactly an easy trip.”
“Good thing I know the greatest smuggling captain in all the seas.”
“Flattery? You resort to flattery?”
“It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Not in the slightest. Even someone as skilled as me couldn’t do what you want—”
“What about Raleigh?” Jørn asked, eyes closed as he tilted his face towards the sun. “Pretty sure she could do it.”
“She could not,” Crutchley snapped. “She’s hardly able to—”
“I think I have a way to contact her,” Jørn started patting his pockets.
“I’m not doing it,” Crutchley said, but I saw how he watched Jørn, growing more nervous as the dandy worked his way down to the pouch at his side. “Glaton isn’t even viable because the port is—”
“A skilled man like you,” I said, “could surely find a way around a simple siege. You already did it once for me.”
“There’s a good land route around,” Dahl said quietly from his perch on the top of the fence. “Go through Trachtenberg, east of Fürstenbrunn. Up and over, put in near that one town — can’t remember the name, but it’s on the river.”
“You’ve been there?” Crutchley asked.
Dahl nodded. “All the way up to the capital.”
Crutchley tugged at the bit of a beard he’d grown since he’d last had access to a razor. “I want a thousand gold. And an apartment in Glaton.”
“You’re moving too?” I asked.
“Everyone else is,” he snapped. “Maybe there’s something to that stupid city. Maybe it might be time to work the river for a spell, be done with slipping past monsters.”
Garnish smiled broadly, and clapped Crutchley on the shoulder. “This is a journey I can get behind,” he said.
“Bump your head on the caves if you go down there,” Crutchley said, looking over my shoulder at the gaping maw in the middle of Raim. “I’m gonna need a ship. And a good crew. Supplies. Probably better to get a few ships. Put a convoy together. Might be, then, we can get around the horn and through the Terrennach Straits without much trouble. But it won’t be cheap, and I don’t see any bulging sacks of gold about your person.”
I smiled. “Lord Quince is picking up the tab,” I said. “He doesn’t seem to mind spending money — might as well go big.”
Crutchley looked at Garnish, who was beaming, and Dahl, who was actually smiling for once.
“You are all incredibly annoying,” he said. “Who do I talk to about my shopping list?”
“Lancelot, the secretary inside the main building,” I replied, pointing.
I went back to Calden Tardring, and gave him the news. He, and the rest of the survivors, were happy to accept a free trip to Glaton, with the hopes they would be welcomed into the Empire. I gave him directions to the Heavy Purse, and instructed him to talk to Matthew about some apartments. And to ask Titus if they’d gone into the sub-basement yet.
Congratulations! You’ve completed a QUEST!
Find them a Home
Find a home for those you have rescued from the clutches of the vile Night Goblins.
Reward for success: As of yet, unknown…
Sweet. One quest down, a million to go.
20
We had a celebratory good-bye dinner, which took up over a corner of the tavern’s dining area. It felt like it was a nicety that was extended given my recent good deeds, because the rest of the place was overly squished to accommodate our desire for a small slice of privacy.
Obviously Crutchley was going, as was Dahl the first mate and Garnish the windlad. They would join the caravan as it headed back to Whitefell in the morning, and then go from there to the port city of Aepthia. From there, get a ship, or a group of ships, to sail around Carchedon through the Imperial, or Western, Sea ultimately to Glaton.
I urged Lux to go with them.
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“I should go to Glaton with them?” She asked. “Why is that?”
“I, uh,” I stammered, looking around to see if there was anyone about to support me. No one so foolish appeared.
“Go on,” she said, taking a drink from her mug.
“I’m just, uh, thinking, maybe you aren’t the type who’d be, um, interested in going underground and, um, exploring caves and dungeons. Or whatever might be down there.”
“One, I am. Two, see point one. Three, the fact that I like to wear dresses and flirt with wealthy lords tells you nothing about how I am in a fight, or how I respond to danger. Just because you saved me once does not give you the right to dictate what I can and cannot do.”
“Hold on,” I replied, “I merely offered it as a suggestion. And you’re right, I don’t know you outside of that one context. If you want to go into Gloomguard with us, go right ahead.”
“Thank you. And there is also the City of Darkness.”
“I’m not talking about that yet.”
“I have been thinking more about it, and—”
“Let’s finish this first,” I said, a bit more sharply than I’d intended. But Lox nodded once and leaned back in her chair.
Her brother, however, volunteered to be on the first boat home.
“I am more useful, uh, not here,” he said.
“You don’t think there’s a use for a researcher here?” I asked. “You know, where there’s a whole library waiting for you to peruse?”
“I, uh—”
“Stop being a coward,” Lux said, a devilish grin on her face.
“I am merely being prudent,” Nox replied. “I am more suited to, uh—”
“Drinking wine and perusing parchment?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Mornax said. “Too much chance of spilling the wine and ruining the parchment.”
Nox glowered at the minotaur, who stuck out his giant tongue in return.
“If you truly believe you will be more useful to me in the Empire than here,” I said, “I suppose you should go. But there’s quite a lot to learn here...”
Nox turned his glower back to me. It was clear he desperately wanted to get back to Glaton, to the comfortable life he had there, away from perpetual danger. But he wasn’t willing to make that choice himself. Because going down that path would mean admitting he was acting like a coward in front of his sister. After all, just hours ago he was losing his mind over all the research he had to do right here in Raim.
He just sulked into his drink and didn’t bring up the matter again.
Mornax practically thrummed with excitement about going down into Gloomguard and seeing all the various ‘fun’ available for axe-ing there. Denitza was her typical stoic self, sipping delicately at some bubbling drink.
There were two left to make their choice, and both men were being oddly tight lipped.
Harpy Sarden and Jørn had large mugs of foaming mead they seemed to be drinking almost in tandem.
I looked from one to the other.
“I will go down,” Harpy said suddenly. “If you will have me.”
“Of course,” I started to say, but Jørn cut me off.
“I will also go,” Jørn interjected. “You will have need of my blade to keep you safe.”
Both men had their eyes locked on each other. There was definitely more happening between them than I knew.
“Okay then,” I said softly, picking up my mug of milk and sitting back in my own chair. “The party splits in the morning.”
I raised my mug. “To adventure! And to homecomings!”
For a moment, my mug hung in the air along. Then the rest joined, thunking drinks together like something was broken and reformed. A new party. A new adventure.
21
I sat in the corner for some time, watching the tavern around me. For the moment, I was content. I had accomplished something important, and it really felt like I was about to move on to the next level.
Thinking of Gloomguard, however, made me extremely nervous. My stomach was a roiling ball of anxiety, and my mind raced, wondering about how much time I had. Wondering what it would be like down there. Wondering what was going on back at home.
Just then I caught Lux’s eyes on me, and I thought of Nadya. What was she doing? How was she doing? Were we, I mean, was there something there still? I mean, she had had me kidnapped and sent down the river. Not exactly the best indication of love, except that she did it because I refused to leave. What was happening with her quest for the crown? Was Valamir helping her, or planning to kill her? Was he actually the good person he’d convinced me he was? What was going on with the war? And was Quince telling the truth that two other countries were invading the Empire at the same time?
All of this swirled around my head. I had no answers to any of the mounting questions, so I decided that the only thing that could help me was some cold night air.
I excused myself from our group, which was quickly merging with the rest of the tavern, and stepped outside.
The air was cold and brisk. But for once, not filled with falling water. I took in some big breaths, letting out lungfuls of vapor into the night, acting a bit like I was smoking. It made me feel like a kid again. I wondered if snow would come soon. And wondered where in the world we were. Where was the equator of Vuldranni? Was it more tropical there? Was it—
I stopped myself, walking toward the huge pit. I could hear the lift working, slowly coming up, the gears creaking softly.
Someone called out a few terse words behind me.
And even though I wasn’t listening, I got this:
Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Old Norse.
“Did you hear?” A man asked me after a moment, in Old Norse.
I looked over my shoulder and saw a brawny soldier standing about ten feet from me. A huge red beard covered most of his face, long hair came down his shoulders, and a heavy-looking set of armor protected his torso. Pieces of plate attached to thick chain mail. There was a wicked-looking hand-axe at his side.
“I’m sorry,” I replied in Old Norse, not even thinking that I probably should have continued in Imperial Common or Carchedonian before revealing I could speak his language, “I guess I didn’t hear you the first time.”
“Ha ha!” He laughed, and crossed the distance between us in a flash, grabbing me tight in a bear hug and lifting me off the ground like I was nothing. “I knew I heard you right!”
“I’m sorry?” I said again, trying to get the words out while he crushed my lungs.
He dropped me to the ground, but kept his hands on my shoulders.
“You said you were from Denmark,” the man said. “I heard it. Denmark. You are from Denmark?”
“Oh, I, uh— not exactly.”
“But you know of it, you know of Denmark? Maybe Cnut?”
“I do know of Denmark. Are, I mean,” I looked around to see who might be listening in, but, at least as far as I could tell, we were alone, “are you from Earth?”
“Norway!” He said, thumping his chest. “You are a Northman?”
“Well, I mean, not exactly no.”
He looked confused for a second, then shrugged. “We are rare enough, eh? No need to bring the old world into this one.”
“You’re from the old world though?”
“Aye,” he said, laughing, bashing my shoulder in what I think he thought was a friendly gesture. “Bit strange here, eh?”
“I’d say,” I replied. “How are you getting on?”
He shook his head and took a few steps toward the hole, peering down as he put one metal boot up on the small wall.
“Not too bad,” he said. “It is a different place than I expected to go. I was in battle, and I thought the valkyrie were taking me to Valhalla. But, here I am. Ready for another battle.”
“Another battle? Do you have a quest here?”
He nodded. “Yes, a quest. You?”
“I need to go down to Gloomguard and speak to someone there. Try and, uh, I don’t know really. It’s strange.”
I didn’t feel comfortable letting him know exactly what I had to do down there. Sure, the guy hadn’t done a damn thing to hurt me — at least on purpose. My rib cage would definitely be bruised tomorrow. But I still had trouble trusting people from the home world.
“I have been told some of what is coming,” the man said, “and I fear I am not the warrior I need to be. Not yet. Not for what is coming.”
“What is coming?” I asked, suddenly very curious.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned his head to the side, and looked very confused.
“It would seem I am not the one to tell this to you,” he said slowly, seeming to come to terms with whatever was preventing him from speaking. “I am sorry to say that it must remain a mystery. For you at least. And I barely know myself — just that I must prepare. That I must be better than I am, or ever have been. In this world or the last. That is why I am here. I have been told there are great enemies below, as well as great treasures. I need to, hrm, gain levels. Skills. Abilities. Build myself up as they do here. And get more magic.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I have lost count of the days, but not yet a full cycle of the seasons.”
“And, I mean, what was, uh, when was it back, uh, in the old world?”
“When? What do you mean when?”
“What year was it?”
“I don’t know. I have no knowledge of it.”
“But you were from Norway?”
“Yes, but I fought for the Danes.”
“Where did you fight? Afghanistan or—”
“I was with Cnut in Ængland, pushing for control of it. The Angles were fighting hard, harder than we expected. I was cut down by a big bastard with a great sword, but I slew him before my dying breath. That is when the valkyrie appeared.”
“You were fighting with swords?”
