by Robert Bevan
“I did no such thing!” said Dave. “Have you lost your –”
“Shut up, Dave!” said Julian. Dave gawked at him angrily. “Sorry Dave. But I want you to calm down and replay that last accusation in your head very slowly. See if there are any lines you can read between.”
Dave’s beady little dwarf eyes moved from left to right and back again while he mumbled Razorback’s words to himself. He looked up wide-eyed at Julian, and then at Razorback. “Hey, not cool.”
“I’m beginning to take a liking to the elf,” said Esteban. “Clever chap. I may not charge him with anything. If things go according to plan, I may even be in a position to hire a personal assistant.”
“Just tell us what you want us to do,” said Tim.
“I’ve got this,” said Julian.
“Oh, sure. See if you can negotiate a dental plan into your new job while the rest of us are hanged and skewered.”
Dave stood next to Tim, a line of solidarity. He crossed his arms and glared at Julian.
“You should also ask for a high starting salary,” said Cooper. “That way they can talk you down to something that’s still reasonable.”
Tim and Dave glared up at Cooper.
“What?” said Cooper. “That’s just good business sense.”
“I’m not looking for a job!” said Julian. “And I’m not selling you guys out. I want to get out of this game as much as you guys do.” He spun around to face Esteban. “Now what do you want from us?”
“We have a situation,” said Esteban. “Razorback and I run a small operation out on the borderlands.”
“Are we really that close to a border?” asked Tim. “Who is the neighboring realm?”
Esteban stared confusedly at Tim for a moment. “Did you just fall out of the sky, my lad? What kind of question is that? His Majesty’s realm extends across this entire continent. I’m not referring to a political border. I speak of the line where civilization ends and wilderness begins.”
“Okay, fine,” said Julian, waving his index and middle fingers in a circular motion. “Get on with it.”
Esteban leaned in. “Our little enterprise, so to speak, is what you might call off-the-books, if you get my meaning.”
“So you’re corrupt,” said Julian. “We’d already guessed that. It’s not a massive surprise that you’d be involved in some illegal smuggling operation.”
“Oh, it’s not illegal, so to speak,” said Esteban. “Much like your friend’s offense in the office, there hasn’t actually been any specific legislation written explicitly forbidding what we do, but it’s not the sort of thing a man in my position would be well served to have it known that he was a part of, if you get my meaning.”
Julian wondered which of their tongues was the most serpent-like. “What do you do exactly?”
“We run a small import/export business with the lizardfolk colony in the Swamp of Shadows, the same clan which Razorback here hails from.” He smiled and pointed an open palm at the lizardman. Razorback nodded.
“What do you provide the lizardfolk with?” asked Julian. He looked around the shop. “Weapons?”
“Heavens no!” said Esteban. “Why, if word leaked that I’ve been arming the savages on the border—“
“Hey,” said Cooper. “Try to show a little decency, man. One of those savages is right behind you.”
“Savage!” hissed Razorback, slamming a fist on the counter.
“Hang on, man,” said Cooper. I didn’t mean to say –”
“I run a legitimate place of business here, one which you decided to spray with your shit. And you have the nerve to call me a savage?”
“You misunderstood what –”
“Cooper!” snapped Tim. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Sorry.”
“Please continue,” said Julian. “You were saying?”
“We provide them with freshly deceased bodies.” Esteban’s words betrayed not even the slightest trace of regret or disgust. “They enjoy feasting on the flesh of creatures they feel view them as a lesser race.”
“That should turn some hearts and minds,” said Tim.
“And stomachs,” said Dave.
“Where do you get all these dead bodies?” asked Julian.
“Bodies are easy enough to come by,” said Esteban. “This is a crowded city. Vagrants die in the street all the time.”
“And you’re okay with just feeding those poor folks to savages?”
“If it doesn’t bother them,” reasoned Esteban, “why should it bother me? I’m doing a public service, if you think about it.”
Julian raised his eyebrows, challenging the Kingsguard to elaborate on his claim.
“A conventional burial costs time and money, not to mention a bit of real estate, which could be better spent on any number of public works projects.”
“Do you honestly believe that outweighs the dignity you’re denying the deceased?”
“Well how about this?” argued Esteban. “Suppose a secret order of necromancers up and decided to raise all of the bodies in the public cemeteries and wreak havoc on the city? The fewer bodies they had to work with the better, wouldn’t you say?”
Julian folded his arms. “Are you listening to yourself?”
Esteban hopped down from the countertop. “Why are we even arguing about this?” He pointed a shaky finger at Julian. “You are the criminals! You will do as I say, or I’ll have all your asses chopped off!”
“I could sew them together and make a cushion for my office chair,” said Razorback. “A punishment befitting the crime.”
“Well get on with it then,” said Julian. “Is it really necessary for us to know every last detail of your business in order for us to do you this favor? Just tell us what you want us to do.”
Esteban eased himself back up onto the counter. “Very well. As you may expect, running an operation such as this one requires the cooperation, discretion, and services of quite a number of people. Expenses add up. And then every now and again, an unexpected nuisance rears its ugly head, and drives those expenses up, to the point where we’re barely making a profit anymore.”
“And the nuisance in this case would be…”
“On the trail leading from the main northern road to the Swamp of Shadows, there lives a mad old hermit. A most unpleasant fellow, by all accounts. He’s been harassing my couriers to the point where they’re demanding a higher fee for their services.”
Julian frowned. “And you want us to go kill this old guy.”
Esteban jumped like he’d just had a cattle prod shoved up his ass. “Hold your tongue, man!” He craned his neck to look down the aisles of the shop. There were no customers. “I am a member of the Kingsguard. We do not sanction murder.”
“Then what do you want?”
Esteban smiled and reached an arm around Julian’s shoulder. His crawling fingers felt like a tip-toeing spider. “You’re a clever lad. All I want is for you to come up with a solution to our little problem.”
“I guess we could ask him to relocate,” said Julian. “I mean, one stretch of swamp is just as good as any other, right?”
“Ha ha,” said Esteban. “I don’t think you’ll find him very receptive to conversation. He’s madder than a bag of squirrels, you see.” He turned around and ran a finger down the sleek, shiny blade of Razorback’s prized sword. “I had hoped that you fellows might find a more permanent means of persuading him.”
Julian maneuvered out from Esteban’s arm. “I’m not so good with innuendo, but it sounds to me like you want us to go murder some old man in a swamp.”
Esteban pursed his lips and lowered his head. “Let’s see… How can I put this in a way that you’ll understand?” He looked Julian squarely in the eye. “How about this? I want you to go murder this old man in the swamp.”
“Esteban!” said Razorback.
Esteban waved a hand dismissively at the lizardman. “Oh don’t worry. Nobody’s going to believe this lot.”
�
��Why don’t you just go kill him yourself?” said Tim. “Or have your couriers do it for you?”
“Because I’ve got you,” said Esteban.
“Well yeah,” said Tim. “That makes sense now, but what about before you met us? You’ve had this problem for a while, right?”
“The couriers I employ are respected tradesmen with reputations to protect. They are not hired thugs. And as for me, well I am a –”
“Yeah yeah,” said Tim. “You’re a Kingsguard. So fucking honorable. We know. What about the lizardfolk in the swamp? If they’re as savage as you say, then why don’t they just go and eat him?”
“The lizardfolk won’t touch him,” said Esteban. “They like to have the crazy old bastard around so they can teach their young what humans are like.”
“May I have a moment to consult my friends?”
Esteban grinned. “Why of course.”
“Feel free to use my office,” said Razorback.
“That’s all right, thanks.” Julian joined his friends at the back of the shop. “Options?”
“I don’t see that we have any,” said Dave.
“Nonsense,” said Tim. “There are always options. Here’s what we’ll do.” He gestured for them all to huddle closer together, which they did. Cooper’s stench was nigh-unbearable. “We’ll accept his terms, walk out the door, and just fuck off to the bar.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Esteban called out.
Tim nearly jumped out of his skin. “You dick!” he said to the Kingsguard. “This is supposed to be a private consultation.”
“You aren’t the first group of outsiders we’ve asked favors of,” said Esteban, sauntering around to the other side of the counter. “And despite what you may believe, you are far from the cleverest.” He bent down behind the counter. When he resurfaced, he heaved a heavy wrought-iron frame onto the countertop. Where normally there would be a photograph, there was nothing but a blank, shimmering surface. It looked like a mirror, but cast no reflection of anything. “Come here, little one.”
Tim raised his eyebrows and pointed to his own chest.
“That’s right,” said Esteban. “Come here and have a look. Razorback, fetch our little friend here a cool beverage.”
The lizardman trudged toward his office door like he was walking the green mile. He snarled at Cooper before opening the door and slipping inside. After about a minute, he sprang out of the door, slammed it behind him, and let out a long exhalation. He carried a flask of dark blue, bubbling liquid.
“Have a drink,” said Esteban, placing the flask on the counter in front of Tim.
“No thanks,” said Tim. “I’m not thirsty.”
“You should mind your dwarf friend, and stop pretending that you have any choice.”
Tim looked back at his friends.
“If he wanted to kill us,” said Julian, “he would have done it already.”
Tim picked up the flask and sniffed it. His face didn’t betray any opinion of what it smelled like. He tilted his head back and necked the whole thing in one go.
As soon as the liquid touched Tim’s mouth, an image appeared on the shiny surface inside the frame. A bright pink, seemingly shapeless blob sprouted a line that grew down out of it, until it ballooned out into a larger blob in the middle of the frame.
Julian realized suddenly what he was seeing. It was a 3D rendering of Tim’s oral cavity, esophagus, and stomach. When the pink image seeped into his intestines, the borders expanded and became fuzzy like a magic marker on a paper towel. It was entering his bloodstream. A pink haze swirled around the central image until it coalesced into veins and arteries, mapping Tim’s entire body. Arms and legs sprouted out, which moved when Tim moved his own arms and legs. Other organs, starting with his heart and lungs, began to take shape. His brain, eyes, and kidneys soon became recognizable. And there were still other organs which Julian, who hadn’t studied enough human anatomy, was unable to properly identify.
Shortly after Tim’s insides were more or less fully exposed, the picture grew hazy again, as veins and arteries gave way to capillaries. Muscles obscured the internal organs, and skin finally materialized on the outside, leaving an image of a bald, naked halfling standing there gawking back at a gawking Tim. When he came to his senses, he quickly put his hands over his little halfling junk.
“Fucking awesome,” said Cooper. “Me next!”
“I’m afraid not,” said Esteban. “Regrettably, the Ink of Location is too costly for me to give you each a dose. I’ll have to trust the rest of you to not abandon your little friend here.”
“Ink of Location?” said Tim. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Esteban. “I may have invented it for all I know. I commissioned it from a group of students at His Majesty’s Royal Institute of Magic. You can’t earn a post-graduate degree without inventing some new spell, potion, or magical item. Most of them fritter the opportunity away on some new cantrip or useless piece of –”
“What does it do?” asked Tim.
“Ah! Of course,” said Esteban. “When you leave here, the image of you on this Magic Mirror will grow smaller, giving me a constant, real-time view of your position in relation to the mirror. The ink will stay in your system for five days. Just to be safe, I’ll allow you three days to complete your mission. If you fail, or attempt to run, I’ll name you as prime suspects in the murder of an adorable human child. You’ll be hunted down by every Kingsguard, city watchman, vigilante, and bounty hunter in Cardinia.”
“You’d never see that kind of response if a lizard child got killed,” grumbled Razorback.
“Wait,” said Tim. “What adorable human child?”
“One will turn up.”
“Fuck,” said Tim. His shoulders slumped as he let out a resigned sigh. “Let’s go, guys.”
After Esteban drew them a simple map, circling a wide area in which he expected they would have the best chance of encountering the crazy hermit, Tim, Julian, Dave, and Cooper stepped out of the shop and into the drizzly gray afternoon.
“Ravenus!” Julian called out as soon as they’d left the shop.
Ravenus flew out of the alley next to the shop, a huge flapping mass of black feathers, and perched atop Julian’s quarterstaff. “Here I am, sir. There’s a dead dog in the alley. Tastes like it’s been there close to a week. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well.” He let out a deep, guttural belch. By the smell of it, Julian judged Ravenus’s assessment of the dog’s time of death to be correct.
“Jesus, Ravenus!” said Julian, coughing and waving the putrid bird belch out of his face.
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” said Ravenus. “It just slipped out.”
“It’s all right,” said Julian.
Ravenus cocked his head to the side and looked down at the group. “If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, the lot of you appear to be in rather a sad state. Why so glum, chums?”
“We’ve just been coerced into murdering an old man.”
Ravenus flapped his wings excitedly. “Another adventure? Jolly good! Dibs on the eyes.”
By the time they got to the city’s northern gate, the drizzle had turned into a full-on downpour. Muddy puddles grew and connected to one another, forming gulfs for horses to clop through and shit in.
Julian wondered if he just hadn’t noticed how much horses shit before, or if there was something about the rain that really put their bowels in motion. It seemed that everywhere he looked, horses were carpet-bombing the area, like they were all trotting home from Taco Bell.
He tried to step carefully, but there was hardly any point. He couldn’t see through the murky brown water. At least he and Dave were wearing boots. Poor Tim and Cooper were walking through this barefoot. Cooper probably didn’t mind. If anything, horse shit would only be doing him the favor of masking some of his own natural funk. But Tim, with his small strides and big, hairy feet… he must be squishing his way through horsey bombs with
every other step. He was soaked up to the knees with filthy brown water, but his face didn’t betray anything in the way of disgust. It looked more exhausted and depressed than anything, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his tiny halfling shoulders.
“It’s a nice time to be leaving the city,” said Julian, trying to spark up some conversation with Tim.
“Lovely time,” said a guard who had apparently overheard him. “That is, if you’re looking to die.” Julian turned around to look at him. The guard speaking to them stood a head above the other two guards manning the gate. He wore a black, waterproof cloak, but Julian spotted the glint of his silver decorative breastplate beneath it. Kingsguard. He hoped Tim failed to notice it.
