The Way of the Clan 7

by Dem Mikhaylov

  But that was just me. Whereas the clans of Valdira were very much interested. The dead giant was very coveted. A catch! In the past, the space between the giant hands was a mass teleport, which carried not only people, elves, goblins, and other living beings, but also everything else that could pass through it - carts, sacks, logs, a herd of cows, some flocks of sheep.

  That is - the clans heard primarily three cherished words:

  Free. Mass. Teleport.

  After all, the teleportation was not anchored. You could choose the destination!

  Should I mention that six month ago there was no getting to this area? There were constant fights between clans trying to maintain control over such a good location. There were alliances - that was the only time the location was ever truly secured. And then the mana of heaven dried up - the teleport died. And a terrible number of clans had already lost, having gotten used to cheaply transporting tons of cargo for free daily.

  The investigation that followed the tragedy showed that, deep below the ground, there was a canister which, it was logical to assume, was like a storage tank for energy. Mages with the ability to pump energy tried to fill the vessel, but it was without success. They began to look further, and found that it was impossible to power the battery with anything other than divine energy. And this divine energy was only available from divine creatures. And just try to force a god or goddess to give up part of her power to fill some stupid crystal bank in the ground! In such cases, gods send the inquirers very far and down an extremely dangerous path. But a couple of exceptions existed - two or three light deities donated the energy to the needs of the society, and for a short while the teleporter of the Dead Giant worked again, passing a couple dozen caravans and carts through it. Then again, the battery died.

  And now, when the mammoth, stepping heavily, ascended to the steep bank of the river, we could see that one of the most lively locations in Valdira was now in desolation and oblivion.

  Thick spiked stones protruded from the ground, and rotten logs were everywhere. Here and there, the fortifications remain, but it is mostly demolished.

  Everything was abandoned, but the castle continued to stand. There was a very large flag fluttering over the central tower depicting a shield divided diagonally into two parts, one red and one blue. The upper part of the shield depicted the teeth of the fortress wall, with the gold inscription “Gold Knights Templar.”

  On the wall of the small fortress, a couple of players in armor were wandering. They were now looking at the Kolyvan through their telescopes.

  “Young and daring,” said Whisper, sitting next to me.

  “Who are they?”

  “Until recently, just children,” answered the sky. “And so quickly they began to bark and grow fat. If I start to tell you, I will have to talk for three hours at least. Oh! There they are!”

  “They” were a lot - on the distant hillside, the head of the detachment appeared. So many horsemen… and then the carts, unthinkably wide, with thick wheels studded with iron, dragged by giant black bulls with two meter horns.

  “Right,” without hiding my anger, I turned to Whisper. “Listen, I am not a genius but…”

  “Dad is very smart!” Roska did not agree, and I smiled gratefully at her, but nevertheless continued:

  “It seems to me that someone wants to ride through the divine teleport for free… those are your caravans, are they not?”

  “Not only,” Whisper admitted. “But, yes, you’re right. What are you complaining about? If Roska will be able to activate the Giant, we will go through. Cannot let it go to waste, right? If not us, then others will!”

  “I am starting to think the name of your clan name is not the Sleepless, but the Bloodsuckers. Predatory bats. But to hell with zoology…”

  “To hell!” Roska nodded happily.

  “Damn it…”

  “Damn… what, Dad?”

  “Your…” I hesitated, trying to think of something neutral.

  “What damn it, Dad?”

  “Cherries on the nape!”

  “Uh-hu-uh” – gave slipping from the head of a mammoth bald elf, judging by the rolled eyes being in full catharsis.

  "God... what did I say? What a fucking cherry? What a nape?"

  “Never mind!” I groaned, trying not to pay attention to Orbit, laughing on the ground. “The bottom line is this: Sorry-not-sorry is unacceptable anymore! Tell the good sister of our bald driver, no more caravans free of charge! And tell her, I said thanks, for teaching Ros how to appreciate gold and not to provide free services! And ask how much the clan of the Sleepless is ready to pay for the passageway of a large cargo convoy through the portal of the Giant, if it will work... And… phew. I nearly broken my tongue. For the tip on the Giant discount will be provided to Sleepless.”

  “Huh...” Whisper thoughtfully drawled. “You’ve matured, I won’t even comment. Hell of a speech. I will pass it along…”

  “Dad…” The daughter suddenly turned serious. “That’s how it should be, right?”

  “What?”

  “Well… to ask for gold, and not to help for free.”

  “Damn it,” I began again, trying to think of another answer. “A difficult question, Roska. Very complex. Let’s talk later, okay?”

  “Uh-huh!”

  Pleased, I turned to the silent spy who had been retrained as a security guard.

  “Whisper, just to specify, she does not have to pay me. Her,” I nodded at my daughter. “If the portal is opened it’ll be through her powers. Got it?”

  “Well… probably,” Whisper shrugged. “One second, I will tell her.”

  “Thank you. Comrade driver! Back to the wheel!”

  “Cha cha!” The elf began. “Akachacha!”

  “Cha cha,” picked up a sonorous Roska. “Hey hey! Akachacha!”

  “Go,” I said, tired. “Maybe it won’t even work…”

  My daughter’s childhood promised to be extremely strange - not at all like the life of a regular teenager.

  What would result of this?

  What would she learn from me? And what would she learn from her environment?

  Take, for example, Bom, the professional ass… what could he teach my daughter? Universal greed, the ability to grab as much as possible, to despise those who do not appreciate money? Oh well… diamonds are eternal, after all.

  And Kaylen? Magic is good… but my daughter, after spending time with her, would always want to be in the center of events, would want to present herself as a journalist, a beauty. She will not be bothered by the requirement of massaging an old man’s shoulders for a couple of rare spells…

  Kira. Kirea the trouble maker… besides the reveal that we are together, my daughter will learn to have a wild thirst for justice, a desire to protect the weak and disadvantaged. Yes, such people are admired… but I would prefer she is not one of them. What kind of father would want a daughter to make a superhero out of herself and try to face up against rapists and murderers in the middle of the night?! I would not! If I knew about that kind of behavior, I would place her under house arrest. The same goes for Kira. In such cases, my disposition is set. I will not allow them to become heroes.

  The Dwarf Cray… okay. If you do not take into account the periodic bouts of jealousy and constant glances at Kaylen, he is quite a normal person, reasoning and behaving correctly. Hm… who else was there?

  The unforgettable Doc… oh… if this fool decides to show my daughter even one erotic scroll, any demoness or unshaven cupid… then there will be one less doctor in Valdira.

  Otherwise, he had positive traits: the love of books, of healing and optimism. A gift from god.

  Orbit… … … … … … Eh.

  “Do you know my father well?” Said Roska, seated next to the “driver” on the neck of the Kolyvan.

  “Well-ll-ll,” Orbit confirmed, trying to shove the sluggish ghost of a spider down the trunk of the mammoth.

  “How well?”

  “
We k-killed together,” said he without hesitation. “And p-plundered, and…”

  “Plundered!” Roska enthusiastically pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Killed!”

  “Oh,” I groaned softly. My rage had passed, and I could not keep on being angry with everyone who said something wrong. After all, the truth would come out eventually.

  Did we kill? We did. The werewolf, who was bathing in the blood of innocent people, elves, and other races. The death of one for the common good.

  Did we rob? We did… hm… that is a pickle. Cannot think of anything…

  “Cities were destroyed, and…” Orbit began, delighted with such sincere interest. “A god was caught with the whale meat and…”

  “Orbit!” I could not stand it. “What are you talking about? Hahaha… that’s an interesting joke… haha…”

  “We th-threw pies!” The elf paid me no attention.

  “Cool! I also want to try!”

  “We will!” Promised my bald friend, a toothache and migraine in one. “And now say, three two one!”

  “Three! Two! One!” Roska blurted out, getting up in anticipation of something interesting.

  SH-H-H-AH!

  Kolyvan shuddered with all his might as he sneezed. A ghostly cloud escaped from his trunk and flew away far ahead, eventually imprinted on the face of a proud looking player riding a white mount. The player, with a scream, fell to the ground, and the horse stood on his hind legs, neighing, turned abruptly and rushed into the sunset…

  “Damn it…”

  “Cherries on the nape!” Roska added.

  The snow-white stallion gave another ringing neigh, which was its last - a giant bird with black and white plumage fell from sky and soared away with its prey.

  “Pumpk-i-i-in!” Yelled the player, falling to his knees. “Pumpkin-n-n-n!”

  “Wow,” I whispered, stunned, trying in vain to get a glimpse of them among the gray clouds.

  “Int-teresting!” The elf confessed, staring into the sky with surprise. Wailing and moaning, the spider ghost made his way back to us.

  “Hey!” A powerful voice came from the fortress wall. Hearing the intonation, I forgot about the knight and white stallion right away. The voice of the unknown warrior, wearing black and gold armor, sounded very unfriendly. He looked like a giant gilded bumblebee standing on his hind legs, with a golden cloak fluttering behind him. The helmet had a strange triangular shape with a sharp top, triangular viewing slits.

  “Bad business,” breathed Whisper, whose eyes ran from one tooth of the fortress wall to the other. “Bullshit…”

  “Choose your words wisely!” I hissed, rejoicing in that my daughter did not hear, absorbed in staring at the black and gold bumblebee.

  “Oh… sorry,” said the spy sincerely. “I could not restrain myself. I was just informed that these guys recently made friends with other guys who are not our friends… the essence of the matter is that we are no longer in accord with the Golden Templars. We are strangers to them. Uninvited guests…”

  “A cart loaded with different delicacies,” I continued, looking at the convoy, which continued to move forward. “It is as though a vat of ice cream came and opened itself before them. Hm… weird for the Sleepless to get themselves in such a pickle. Maybe their prime years have passed?”

  “Comedian!” Said Whisper evilly. “I will write the caravan. Maybe there’s an alternative?”

  “Stop! Mane! Siste gradum!” Came the sound of voice.

  The screamer was a lean elf with hair of a gray steely color. With a bow, with a crossbow, with two more crossbows… with quivers and bags for bolts. Damn it! A walking arsenal! The player clearly did not want to ever be unarmed.

  “I do not see an alternative,” I chuckled. “He’s the lead defender, is not he?”

  “Yes. Gray Pen. And yes- he loves Latin. Careful with your words when you talk to him.”

  “I’d rather not,” I answered, peering at the castle. “There’s lots of traffic.”

  After yelling at us, Mr. Bumblebee fell suddenly silent and disappeared from the protective wall. Neither curses, nor greetings, nor attempts to investigate… he just disappeared. While other parts of the fort slowly began moving.

  How to explain? And what is there to explain, when guns aimed at the mountains turned slowly and quietly in our direction? Large object were slowly rising from the top of the wall, fire breathing heads of dragons and poisonous heads of cobras. Magical flamethrowers and poison guns. In short, we were being targeted by the entire arsenal. The castle was small, but well-armed.

  The Golden Templars were going to smash us… but their commander was a total idiot.

  “Bad move,” said Orbit contemptuously.

  An unflattering assessment, but I agreed. What kind of lead is he that he yells at us and then raises his weapon? He needed to smile affectionately, encourage us to move forward, and then take us out with one fierce blow. And here, he is aiming, and probably imagining himself to be a brilliant military strategist.

  “Let’s go, Orbit,” I said, not in the least wanting to steer the mammoth to attack the fortress.

  “Boring,” the elf sharply shook his head, agreeing with me.

  An attack on the fortress with the mammoth… for him, this is killer boredom.

  And this was predictable. What any other player would perceive as the greatest adventure Orbit thought of as something that had already happened, and not worth repeating.

  Not “int-teresting.”

  And what will happen when I suddenly exhaust my reserves of excitement - what then? How long will this extraordinary character remain my companion? Hm… we have experienced a lot together. And he is one of the few who does not try to spy on me, or get something. The psychopathic bald elf eclipses all of my legendary talents as easily as Everest covers a nameless hill. And a great avalanche for a small hill is, for Everest, only a routine incident…

  Having issued a trumpet cry, the Kolyvan shook his big shaggy head and slowly began to turn away from the fortress. Away from the dead teleport. Out of trouble.

  “Guys - Stop! Stop!” Whisper intervened. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from here,” I shrugged my shoulders. “We do not want a fight. And they are certainly not planning a tea party.”

  “Well, why not?” Whispered he evilly. “In the tradition of the Boston Tea Party!”

  “How?” I wrinkled my forehead. “I am not following. But I do not care. We are leaving.”

  “Ros. Our guys are over there. Our clan mates, our allies, our partners. Directly under the line of fire. Now we have to get them out of here. The best option is sudden activation of the portal and an equally sudden march through it. You understand yourself.”

  “I understand,” I nodded.

  “And since you understand, turn the Kolyvan around.”

  “I won’t risk Roska,” I said definitively. Whisper winced, shaking his head knowingly, and looked at the fortress with a melancholy sigh:

  “When did they become so courageous, anyway? Okay, a couple of troops will arrive soon. We will look on from the side.”

  “Good,” I nodded, relieved.

  “Daddy… I feel… he’s crying…” Said my daughter in a plaintive voice. “And… and more…”

  “Who is crying? And what else?”

  “And there’s something interesting…”

  “Int-terest-ting?” The bald elf tensed his whole body and twisted his fingers into the Kolyvan’s ears, and the mammoth blew his trunk. “Very int-teresting?”

  “Uh-huh!”

  “We won’t go there!” I said firmly.

  “But he is crying!” Roska pouted.

  “Int-terestting!” Pouted Orbit.

  “Our people are there!” Whisper pouted, puffing his cheeks and sticking out his lower lip.

  Only me, the Kolyvan, and the wolf did not pout. But I was shaking in anger.

  “If someone is crying… you shouldn’t help, right, Dad?” Asked my dau
ghter thoughtfully. “He is asking for help! Pleading! He says he has no strength… he cannot do anything… cannot see.. He asks for help, and asks us not to leave. He says that only I heard him and answered. Dad… shall we leave? Will we not help him?”

  “Who?!” I exploded like a firecracker, realizing that I could not teach the future goddess to ignore someone in trouble. “What kind of thing is crying?! Who is asking for help?! Found a right time to sob, bastard! Could not save it for a better day! Okay. We are kind. Let us go quietly, help a little! And then get the hell out... or I will clutch his curly bells … and unscrew them!”

  “Unscrew the bells,” said Whisper, scratching the back of his head. “That we can do. Turn the mammoth! Drive!”

  “And what are curly bells?” Asked my daughter with interest. “Still he cries! He is there… he is stone-made and broken…”

  “I will unscrew his bells,” I continued sizzling angrily as I stroked the wool of the mammoth. “And Kolyvan will step on them and jump!”

  “Elephants do not jump!”

  “This one will! I will make him! Honey, show me where he is crying… this…”

  “I already wrote to them,” gasped Whisper in excitement, getting his familiar spiked chain out of his bag. “They are preparing for protection. Our business is to activate the portal.”

  “You say it like it is a matter of removing a boiling kettle from the stove!” I snapped. “Hmph! If something happens to Roska because of this - the Baroness is to blame! They shouldn’t dare try to squeeze some profit out of this one too!”

  “Are we going to have a fight now because of the Sleepless?” The spy stared at me. “I thought that we were going there because your daughter heard someone crying. Or did I miss something?”

  I did not say anything.

  No. I was silent.

  There was nothing to hide myself with. Yes, the Sleepless always wanted to take advantage of situations, wanted to get a profit, to squeeze cash out of anything. But what more did I want? We were going to the fortress not because of them, but because I intended to raise my daughter as a light goddess. I mean someone who does not leave a distressed being in trouble. But in moderation! Not like this!