The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set 2

by Eric Ugland

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “Kobolds.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?”

  “Would you prefer I dance about the room with excitement given how rare kobolds are? How useful they are?”

  “No, I mean, they were interesting to me.”

  “Yes, well, that’s you. And given your predilections, I assume you have brought back additional quests?”

  “Maybe one.”

  “Which is?”

  “Stop the Night Goblins from taking the local kobolds.”

  “Ah. Adding another enemy to the pile.”

  “We’re already enemies with those assholes. They’re the ones that took the little girl.”

  “Right, yes, lost track of that for a moment. And we are helping kobolds.”

  “That’s the general idea, yeah.”

  “Do you know anything about kobolds?”

  “Not before today, but I learned a bit. I know that Ragnar and Skeld aren’t the biggest fans.”

  “Fans of kobolds are rare. Almost exclusively limited to other kobolds And not even then.”

  “They didn’t seem that bad.”

  “They are not whom I would choose to live among.”

  “Why? They seemed fine.”

  “There are a host of reasons. Off the top of my head: they have a way of selectively understanding things like property rights. Their societal structure is fundamentally different than our own. They have quite a few different ways of operating that might seem alien to you, and their ability to understand other cultures different than their own is almost preternaturally none.”

  “So they look at everything through a kobold lens?”

  “Yes. Mostly.”

  “Don’t you always look at things through a human lens?”

  “It is not the same.”

  “Oooh-kay, Nikolai.”

  “Regardless of my feelings, or your assumptions of my feelings, there are almost always additional issues that arise when living near kobolds. They rarely believe treaties apply to their entire nation or community — it us much more common for kobolds to assume that agreements are only between individuals, even if one of those individuals is their ruler. This makes dealing with them in an any official capacity hugely frustrating. And gods help us if the kobolds in question have not given up their barbaric Old Ways.”

  “Well—”

  “Lovely. So they follow the Old Ways.”

  “Apparently, yes.”

  “You need to get talking to Borin and find out more about what we’re facing with the corrupted. He’s our only intelligence.”

  “Abrupt topic change?”

  “You know nothing about kobolds and dismiss any warnings I offer before denigrating me for bigotry. Where would you like this conversation to go?”

  “I don’t know, I just—”

  “And have you forgotten the quest given to you by a goddess wherein the fate of the very world hangs in the balance? Would you prefer we talk about the kobolds who will likely fuck us over when given the chance?”

  Sometimes I didn’t like Nikolai very much.

  “Any progress on the cure?” I asked, more than happy to move the topic over.

  “Not in the one night they have had to work. I fear we must push the corrupted ones surrounding our northern walls back. We have no idea how many ursus are out there, might be just enough to keep us stuck inside—”

  “— Might be a thousand.”

  “Could be, knowing that is vital. Right now, we give them control. But a concerted attack against them requires more knowledge about the ursus, and the corruption, than we currently possess.”

  “Anything happen on the south side?”

  “That progresses. There have been no real attempts on breaching the gate since Mercy and Essie developed their Shower.”

  “Perhaps because they cooled the attacks off?”

  “I hate your puns. Rather, I believe there is something else at play. Caticorix does not strike me as a man who sits around. He will be working another angle, and I am sure it will come to light soon. But while we wait for his nonsense, we must work on the corrupted ones.”

  “And the night goblins.”

  “I will add that to my list of things needing doing, but I urge you to remain focused on the quest from Eona.”

  “The joys of being in charge, eh?”

  “Let me count the ways. And do not forget: your training must continue apace as well.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “There is much to be done, Montana of Coggeshall.”

  “Yeah, got it, Nikolai of Pain in the Butt Hole.”

  “I preferred your puns.”

  “I prefer private showers, but we take what we can get.”

  “I do apologize for interrupting, but there are too many things needing your attention to wait.”

  “Do you think you could have people come to me, since I need to be training?”

  “You are the Duke, you may make requests of your subjects.”

  “Okay, well, I’m going to train. Have Borin come to me.”

  “Very well, your grace.”

  “Was that, I mean, are we still using that code thing?”

  “I was just being polite, Montana. Get out of the fucking shower — you waste water and time.”

  He pushed himself off the sink and stalked out of the room.

  Chapter 143

  I put on another of my too-tight shirts and slipped some looted chainmail over it. It wasn’t the best possible armor, but my best possible armor was full of dings, dents, and steel growths after the de-worming.

  I know I told Nikolai I’d follow his training protocol, and I knew it was effective, but I felt like there were too many things that needed doing and not enough time to do them. I was pretty set on skipping my training sessions, but food was another story. I needed breakfast.

  Heading down to the cantina, I got a plate of eggs and potatoes, and found a deserted corner of the place to sit and chow down.

  Perhaps because I was the duke, or because I was bigger than most everyone there, it became clear I wasn’t any good at hiding. Before I’d even taken a bite, Saivoer strode over, her bow unstrung and across her back, and quivers of arrows on either hip. She gave me a knowing smile, as if she somehow intuited I’d been planning on ditching archery practice. She sat down, took a potato from my plate, and popped it in her mouth.

  “Almost ready to go?” She asked.

  I looked down at my plate, I shoveled everything I could into my mouth. And then I smiled at her, knowing full well I had eggs in my teeth and beard.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Her smile vanished, and she sighed.

  “Let us go, your grace,” she said, getting to her feet and walking out of the cantina without waiting for me.

  There were a few other archers practicing on the range, and though I got a little side-eye when I stepped up, they said nothing. My instructor walked down to the targets and pinned up a number of small pieces of paper. Or parchment. Or even cloth. Little light colored squares. Then, she sashayed on back, and gave me a look like I should have already been ready for shooting.

  Saivoer waited quasi-patiently for me to string a practice bow. I noticed she looked relieved that I didn’t pull out Eona’s bow. Then I started shooting, and she started correcting me. She made no mention of any improvements I’d made from the previous day, even though I felt like I was shooting much better.

  I sent arrow after arrow down range, and though I was on target, I wasn’t hitting the exact spots Saivoer wanted. She’d call out a spot on the target, and want three arrows in it as fast as I could. Then another.

  After an hour, we moved back another hundred yards, far enough from the targets and the rest of the archery range that the other archers practicing decided they’d had enough for the day and moved off. That meant Saivoer had even greater flexibility in calling out targets, because none of the other spots in the rang
e were taken.

  We’d empty all three of her quivers, and then I’d sprint to fetch the arrows and bring them all back. Then we’d start over. I certainly wasn’t overshooting the physical targets, but I wasn’t hitting the little white squares like she wanted. Once or twice, I could see her get frustrated, and she’d string her bow up quick, and then fire off a few arrows, doing the whole Robin Hood thing where she drilled one of her arrows with another. It was impressive, and certainly made me feel better about her being my instructor. Not that I was doubting her. I almost had the feeling that she needed to prove to herself, that she knew what she was doing because maybe she felt she wasn’t teaching me correctly. Which might have been true. I wasn’t exactly a bright and shiny student surpassing the teacher. Granted, it was day two. But I think people had started to have unrealistic expectations when it came to me doing anything.

  After another hour, she pushed me back another hundred or so yards. I was having a little trouble just getting the arrows to go the distance. The use of the bow somewhat negated any strength bonus I had — I couldn’t exactly help throw the arrow. Saivoer got a little snippy — with the bow, not me — and so she marched off to find a different one while I took a short break. A break that got interrupted almost as soon as it started by Borin.

  “Borin,” I said as a greeting, “how’s things?”

  “Better, my lord,” he said, with a deferential bow of his giant head. “I have been told you have made contact with the corrupted.”

  “There was a bit of fighting.”

  “I am happy you were victorious.”

  “Makes two of us. I do have a few questions.”

  “I will answer what I am able.”

  “You’ve got some innate powers, as ursus, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that helps you, like, hide in the woods?”

  “We are able to blend with our environment in several ways. Some of these are abilities which we are able to level up. I am not as clear as to your abilities, but we are also able to share or spread our abilities over members of our tribe.”

  “Oh snap, that’s pretty powerful.”

  “It can be.”

  “The corrupted ones made an attack, and we pushed them back. Then they seemed to go away, but we weren’t sure, so we sent out a scout—”

  “The one who is now corrupted.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “When food was brought to us, it was mentioned to me.”

  “Any ideas on a cure?”

  “None.”

  “Okay, quick question. Might be a bit of a tangent, but are you followers of Eona?”

  “We are,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.

  “I have, uh, well, she and I have spoken a few times. Well, two times, I don’t want to make it seem like we’re best buds or something, but she tasked me with stopping the corrupted ones. Either by death or by cure. Naturally, I’d prefer cure, but—”

  “It would likely be easier to kill them all.”

  “Do you know how many there are?”

  “No.”

  “A guess?”

  “I am unsure how far west or east the corruption has spread. There are tribes throughout this range, and we are rarely all in one place. All the ursus I have known within my lifetime are gone, save those within this fort. Perhaps four thousand? Five thousand?”

  “That’s a lot of death.”

  “Yes. Did you not think to ask Eona for a cure?”

  “She wasn’t able to give me one.”

  “Then I fear there is not one to find, either.”

  “I’m not quite ready to give up. If you don’t mind, can you check in with the cleric of Eona. Meikeljan, he’s a little white furry guy. Tough to miss him. Except he’s really small, so maybe it is easy to miss him. He’s probably in the Hall. But check in with him, maybe he has questions you can answer, or a thought about the cure.”

  “I will do that, Duke of Coggeshall.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I admire that you are not quick to seek death, my duke. But these are not beings of good who deserve justice and mercy. These are creatures of evil who seek to turn this world into a hellscape of their own making. They will not—”

  “I get it. Evil. No mercy. Don’t feel bad killing them.”

  “Exactly. And I say this knowing my kin are out there. But those kin are also calling for my blood. They will eat my young if they can. They—”

  “Are there any, like, weird weaknesses you can tell me? Are you all allergic to steel or silver or, I don’t know, particularly vulnerable to anything?”

  “We have fur — it does not do well with fire.”

  “Do you know how the corruption spreads?”

  “As when you have asked before, no.”

  Saivoer came walking back with a larger bow and a sturdier looking string.

  “Back to the grind,” I said, standing up straight.

  “I will speak to the cleric,” Borin said.

  “Thanks, Borin. And if you think of anything that might be useful, you know, in killing these fools, you let me know.”

  “I will.”

  He walked away, and I couldn’t help noticing the extreme size difference between Borin and Saivoer. It was startling. He was not only substantially taller, but exceptionally wider than the human woman. I had to wonder why they’d lost their fights against the Empire.

  Saivoer shoved the bow in my hands.

  “Back to shooting,” she said, practically glowering at me.

  “Uh, you angry at something?” I asked.

  “If I am, it is my business. Shoot.”

  So I shot.

  Chapter 144

  Most of the time, Saivoer’s teaching style was some pushing and pulling of my leg or arm or what not, but whatever had transpired during her search for my better practice bow had really pissed her off. My feet were out of place, so she hit me in the legs with her bow, and it stung like a motherfucker.

  I glared at her, but she was just looking down at the targets.

  Back to shooting. I was getting closer to the targets, but then I released the arrow a little wrong, and there was a tremendous pain in my ribs. She’d jabbed the end of her bow into me as hard I she could.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Your release was off,” she replied. “Again. Third square to the left.”

  I went through the whole rigamarole, aim, breath, check feet, check grip—

  Get hit in the face.

  “Faster,” she said.

  I clenched my teeth, but did it all faster. Aim, release.

  The arrow hit the target, just not the square she’d wanted.

  Whack. She hit me.

  It continued in that manner, every time I did something she didn’t like, there’d be some sort of physical retaliation, and she wasn’t pulling her hits. My only thought was that, perhaps, she had heard about my regenerative abilities and somehow came to the conclusion I didn’t feel pain either. But that wasn’t true. It hurt. It started to really get to me, and I had to take big breaths so I didn’t whack her back.

  Just when I was about to snap, I shot three arrows in the exact spot Saivoer had ordered. Either that satisfied her, or she’d finally worked out her anger, and she stood up.

  “We are done, your grace,” she said, and walked off without a second look back at me.

  I watched her walk away, and I unstrung my bow almost mechanically. For the most part, I’d enjoyed learning to shoot with her, up until our last bit of practice. I didn’t really mind that she had a brusque straightforward personality. In some ways, it was refreshing. But this new Saivoer was not pleasant. I shook my head, hoping she’d get her shit together, then I grabbed the strings and arrows, and cleaned up the archery range. Part of being the trainee, I figured. Plus, it was an almost relaxing moment of rote manual labor. By the end of it, when the range was back to new, I was tired, and smarting, and
only had getting beaten up by Carpophorus to look forward to, which meant I needed to come up with a good way to get out of that particular party.

  Chapter 145

  Don’t get me wrong, I loved the learning aspect of training. The pain, not so much, but I suppose that was just the manner in which people in Vuldranni felt was best to teach. Or I’d had the shit luck of getting two sadists for teachers, and putting me in pain was the reason they’d agreed to teach me. Either way, pain. Yay.

  I went to the cantina and grabbed a large piece of meat, taking it back outside and munching on it while I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, enjoying the sunshine. I overheard two voices, young women chatting together, laughing, and a little idea flitted into my, lesbihonest, meathead. There was a singular individual amongst all of those currently in Coggeshall to whom I could speak to and no one would dare interrupt me or try and beat me up. A certain young woman who was currently making small talk with one of her attendants.

  I pushed off the wall, and I popped the last bite of meat into my mouth. I strolled across the grounds, and stepped into her path. She, and her attendant, came to a quick stop, and I saw a flash of anger zip across her face, because she immediately recognized me. I could sense an undercurrent of anxiety going on with her, but she was doing a particularly good job at hiding it.

  The princess looked up at me, and then let her gaze travel all the way down to my mis-matched boots before coming back up to the tangled strawberry blonde hair hanging past my shoulders.

  “Duke Coggeshall,” she said softly.

  “Highness,” I replied.

  “I have been meaning to speak with you,” she said, still softly. It was hard to hear her, and though I was super tempted to lean in, I kinda felt that a dude of my size doing that might be a little imposing.

  “Might this be something we do, say, now?”

  “I would like that, yes.”

  “So this a we-should-talk-in-private thing?”

  “Is there privacy in Coggeshall? We all seem to be living on top of each other, and I cannot imagine a time when I had true privacy in the capital.”

  “Well, we’re different than the capital. Lack of indoor plumbing, for one.”