The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set

by Eric Ugland

  Chapter 88

  I woke the next morning, feeling refreshed and raring to go. I was pretty much the only one. Everyone else was rather grumpy, especially Lee. He kept going on about how his feet hurt, and how he wasn’t cut out for this, and he’d been promised a desk and a workshop. Running day and night and fighting weren’t part of the deal.

  Nikolai glared at Lee, but said nothing. Cleeve steered the little elf over to the side to have a private conversation.

  I took that moment to climb the tree and get a look at what was coming.

  What could only be Osterstadt itself stood a mile or so distant. The walls were unbelievable, rising over a hundred feet above the ground. Towers came at regular intervals and went even higher. It was smooth stone, ranging from one cliff face on the south side all the way across to another cliff face on the north side. And the cliffs were just the beginnings of the great mountain range. The city of Osterstadt seemed to occupy the entire opening, which meant they controlled all access to the Emerald Sea.

  I scurried down the tree and dropped to the ground. My hirðmen were busy harvesting the fruits from the tree while Nikolai struck the little bits of our camp.

  “Osterstadt’s, like, right there,” I said.

  “I know,” Nikolai replied.

  “You’ve been here before.”

  He nodded.

  “What’s the Emerald Sea like?” I asked.

  He smiled, shaking his head. Then he pushed my bedroll into my hands.

  “Oh no, Cleeve made his orders clear,” Nikolai said with a wry grin.

  Lee and Cleeve came back, Lee looking mostly mollified by whatever Cleeve had told him. I hoisted my pack up, then tied the bag of holding on, and let the Lutra clamber up me and take their usual positions.

  We started to walk.

  Not run.

  “Running attracts attention,” Cleeve said. “Now we must be subtle. We must not be found out before we complete our task.”

  We rounded a bend in the road, and Lee got his first sight of the city.

  He gasped.

  Ragnar and Skeld’s mouths dropped open. Cleeve and Nikolai kept walking as if this was old hat for them. Which, you know, it might have been.

  As we got closer, the walls seemed even more impressive. I could see there was a deep trench dug all along the base, with three bridges across leading to three gates. There was a large number above each gate: one through three.

  “Gate three is only for the Caravan’s Guild. Gate two is for all visitors to the city and other trade. Gate one is for the wealthy, the nobility and those on Imperial business.”

  “What about the Legion?” I asked.

  “Technically, they would go through Gate One, but really, the Legion uses whatever gate they want,” Cleeve said. “But remember that the city has only been in the Empire for a short time. If I recall, the city’s own military would only use gate one. Regardless, gate number two is where we are headed today.”

  No one was using gate one, and there were a few wagons lined up in front of gate three. Gate two, however, was going to be a wait. The line of people waiting to get into the city went all the way back across the bridge and a distance beyond. It was primarily farmers hauling their goods to the city, but there were also a number of vagrants, travelers, and even a few wealthier types, clearly irritated to be waiting in their posh wagons. As we got in line, I noticed there were clever entrepreneurs who walked up and down the line selling food, drinks, and even trinkets and do-dads for keeping yourself entertained on the line.

  The line moved in spurts. A bunch of people got into the city quickly, and then we’d sit and wait while someone got searched. Or get ejected from the line. While waiting, I saw gate three open up. A massive pseudo-wagon came out, something in the neighborhood of a hundred feet long, with a few sets of wheels on it, each one able to turn. I didn’t recognize the beasts that pulled it, but they looked incredibly strong and rather plodding. The wagon-like thing was loaded with hewn timber beams, the biggest I’d ever seen. Each one was a hundred plus feet long, and six- or eight-foot squares at the minimum. Huge amounts of wood. Something that’d be inconceivable in contemporary Earth.

  Somewhere in the neighborhood of mid-afternoon, we got to the bridge, and were within ten groups of entering the city. I looked over and saw a familiar posh asshole sitting astride a beautiful horse at the head of a procession of gaudy, extravagant carriages. His sister had her own horse —white, of course — and rode a bit behind her brother. Lady Eliza Northwoods looked elegant despite the rigors of the road. The man who had to be her father, a short fat man wearing ridiculous enameled armor with the Northwoods arms on the cuirass, rode at the front of the grouping astride a beautiful black destrier. They were making great time, heading for gate one.

  “Would you look at that bullshit,” I said.

  All the heads in my party turned to the south and looked.

  “Northwoods,” seethed Cleeve.

  Nikolai took a step, but Cleeve’s hand was on the man’s arm immediately.

  “We cannot afford to be spotted,” Cleeve said.

  “A distraction could prove useful,” Nikolai countered.

  “They will trace it quickly, and they have more allies in the city than we do. Once inside those walls, we are in more danger than at any point yet. But it is in those walls where we will beat them across the city. Or lose everything.”

  “You want me to provide a delay action?” I asked.

  “Perhaps. We must wait and see what happens.”

  “But you just—” Nikolai started.

  “You can be traced to me. He cannot,” Cleeve said. “Yet.”

  The Northwoods reached their gate at roughly the same time we reached ours. I had to stop watching them in order to deal with the guards of Osterstadt. There were quite a few soldiers — some to stand on guard, some to question individuals who requested entry, and some to search farmers’ wagons.

  We were directed off to the right to speak to two guards, both women who looked like they resented being on guard duty and would rather be out kicking ass. I noticed they, as well as most of the other guards, had some pretty gnarly scars on their exposed skin, and both their armor and their weapons appeared well-used.

  “Name and business,” the first one asked. She had a very square jaw and a recalcitrant curl of hair that seemed determined to remain free from her helm.

  “Lord Benedict Coggeshall,” Cleeve said, using his proper name and title. “I am here on Imperial business, and seek the fastest route to the Imperial Administration House.”

  Her eyebrows raised at the pronouncement of Lord. Her partner narrowed her eyes at us. They didn’t buy it.

  “Why have you come to Gate two if you are a Lord and on Imperial business?” she asked.

  “Do not question my choices, soldier,” Cleeve replied with a snap. “Grant me entry to the city.”

  And as soldiers have done since time immemorial, they decided their best course of action was to kick it up the chain of command.

  “Just a moment,” the curly-haired one said. Then she thought to add a surly, “my lord. Let me get the captain for you.”

  Cleeve held a hand up in protest, wishing to get things over with as quickly as possible. But the guards were already moving.

  Nikolai looked over at Cleeve, as if asking whether or not they should make a run for the city, what with the fact that there were zero guards between us and an open city gate at the moment.

  Cleeve shook his head.

  A moment later, the women returned with a stout man with a perfect coif of black hair and a white cape hanging off his back. It was quite the look.

  “Hello,” he said, a rather officious smile on his face, “I am Captain Stans Hosmaar.”

  “Captain Hosmaar,” Cleeve said, “as I told your able guards, I am Lord Coggeshall.”

  “Yes, I was told who you say you are.”

  “Are you implying I am not who I say I am?”

  “Yo
ur name has come up on our bulletin, so I do apologize, but we are forced to impose upon you for—”

  Cleeve dropped his pack.

  Both guardswomen had their swords out, which meant Nikolai’s blade automatically followed.

  Lee moved behind me, and I stood there like a lump, not wanting to get into a brawl with the city guards before I’d even gotten into the place.

  Hosmaar held his hand up, and the two women lowered their swords. Nikolai mirrored them.

  Cleeve pulled his armor off, and then opened his shirt to show off the Indicium on his chest, displaying the Coggeshall Heraldic Achievement on his chest.

  Hosmaar flipped through a small book he pulled from his pocket. He held it up to compare. In the book was a perfect copy of the Coggeshall family crest and arms. A moment passed as Hosmaar checked the book against the real thing. Finally, he nodded.

  “Apologies, my lord,” he said. “I do regret to have inconvenienced you so.”

  “Not a problem. Just in a bit of hurry, so—:”

  “Allow me to assist you in that. Where are you going?”

  Cleeve looked to Nikolai, and they had another one of their shared conversations with no words.

  “The Imperial House,” Cleeve said.

  Hosmaar nodded, and then darted away.

  The two guardswomen, looking moderately chagrined, guided us through the gate to a small waiting area on the other side.

  “Just wait here a moment, my lord,” Curly said before heading back to her post.

  Chapter 89

  We stood there like idiots as the flow of farmers and people sauntered by.

  “Does this smell wrong to you?” Nikolai asked.

  Cleeve nodded, then said, “I think we need that diversion now.”

  “And to split up.”

  “Wait,” I said, “splitting the party is never a good idea.”

  Cleeve pointed past Nikolai at a group of soldiers moving down the street. “Someone was ready for us.”

  “Montana,” Nikolai said, “distraction. Then, you go with Lee.”

  “What the—” I started to ask, but Nikolai had already pulled Lee and Cleeve in close. The Lutra were standing on either side of me, wary. I ran through a few possibilities quickly before deciding on an old classic, and pretty much the only thing I could do in such a short time frame while avoiding violence.

  I pulled out a coin purse, grabbed a handful of coins, and threw them high in the air.

  “Golden shower!” I shouted, making myself laugh like no one else.

  Most everyone looked at me like I was crazy, but as soon as the coins started bouncing off the cobblestone streets, there was a mad scramble. Suddenly, the road went from crowded to completely blocked. I threw a second handful out, a bit farther from me.

  Someone grabbed my arm, and tugged me along.

  “Follow,” Lee said.

  We raced along the main thoroughfare, a street wide enough for five wagons to pass by each other comfortably. But Lee pulled me onto a side street as quickly as we found one. Then we hoofed it down an alley, through a door that led into a tavern, and back out onto the street.

  That’s when we stopped running and started acting casual, moseying along like we had something to do, but it wasn’t pressing.

  “Dude,” I said, “you have any idea where we are going?

  “Of course I do,” Cleeve said.

  I blinked, shook my head, and realized that Cleeve was leading me through the streets now.

  “Wait a—” I started.

  “Minor illusion,” he interrupted, a smile on his face. “We had to slip past the Emperor’s brother’s soldiers.”

  “How’d they know we were here?”

  “Teela. As soon as she reported our position and our direction of travel, they would know this was our ultimate destination.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have used your real name.”

  “Had I not, they would not have allowed us into the city.”

  “How do you know?”

  “As this is an Imperial City, you are only guaranteed entry should you be an Imperial Citizen. Neither you or Lee are able to prove citizenship yet, nor can Nikolai or I without our real names becoming known.”

  “How do you know we wouldn’t get let in? Just because we aren’t citizens—”

  Cleeve pointed back at Ragnar and Skeld. “Osterstadt does not look kindly on those of us who are non-human, and especially those they consider beast kin. In order to have the clout to bring your hirð into the city, I needed to show who I was.”

  I started to see the looks our little group was getting. Initially I thought it was because I’d been looking around the place like a tourist, mouth open wide as I looked from one unreal carving to another, staring up at totem-poles a hundred feet high. Woods of all different kinds. Everything oversized. Nearly every corner was more breathtaking than the last.

  But now I realized the locals were definitely giving us dirty looks, sneering at us, and making it quite clear we were engaged in something that was disgusting to them. Slowly, rage built in my heart, and I started to hate the city’s people.

  A solid thirty minute trek through the city, and we came to a massive stone building, looking decidedly out of place in the rest of the city. There were plenty of guards outside, but these men and women didn’t wear the city’s markings. Instead, they had a different sigil emblazoned on their tunics: a bearded Vulture. They stood a little taller and straighter, with slightly better equipment, and there was definitely a wider variety of species on display.

  From our left came the clatter of hooves, and the Northwoods party rode into view.

  “Shit,” Cleeve said.

  He hurried across the square, and managed to get his foot on the first step before one of the Legion guards stepped in front of him.

  “Help you, sir?” the elf asked.

  Cleeve didn’t bother to say anything, he just rolled up his sleeve and willed his indicium to appear, showing his Legion mark.

  The elf stepped aside and saluted smartly.

  “Apologies, captain,” the elf said.

  “Doing your job, soldier,” Cleeve replied and ran up the stairs.

  Ragnar and Skeld followed next, and I brought up the rear.

  I glanced over and saw that Lord Northwoods was having trouble getting off his giant horse, and neither his family nor the Legionnaires were willing to help him. It was nice to be involved in a race when the other participants didn’t know they were participating.

  The inside of the Imperial House was gorgeous. The floors were polished to a high sheen, and there were insane friezes on the walls, with plenty of space afforded should you like to bask in the magnificence of the Emperor. The entryway, like everything else I’d seen in the Empire, was massive, with a ceiling somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty feet above me. It soared to a masterful dome made of white stone and thick stained glass. Soldiers stood at attention inside, but there were plenty of unarmed people moving about. I realized I was seeing some of the bloated bureaucracy required to make an Empire this size function.

  A large desk manned by four people effectively split the room in two. One was clearly the public space, and the other the private area, where you’d need to get by guards to go deeper into the building. A large staircase with deep red carpeting came out of one wall behind them.

  Cleeve walked across the floor, right over the inlaid sigil of the Empire, heading straight for the desk. He stoped in front of a young woman, someone who wasn’t human, but wasn’t something I could immediately place.

  “I need to see the Viceroy, please,” Cleeve said.

  “I am so sorry,” the woman immediately countered, “but—“

  “Tell him Lord Coggeshall is here on behalf of the Emperor.”

  The blood drained from the woman’s face. She pushed back from the desk and ran up the stairs behind her.

  We were there for two or three minutes before Northwoods and company arrived. And what an arrival i
t was. The large double doors opened, and Lord Northwoods strode in, his enameled armor looking resplendent, though not hiding his bulk. His armored boots echoed across the hall with every step. Men at arms wearing the tabard of his house flanked him, his beautiful daughter, and his dandy son.

  I got a glare of recognition from the son, and a look of surprise from the daughter, but the father was far too far up his own ass to notice much of anything. Not even Cleeve.

  Papa Northwoods walked to the desk, and slammed his fist down.

  “I demand to be taken to the Viceroy,” he said, nasal voice reverberating around the hall. “I have come to claim my new dukedom!”

  I’m not sure what kind of reaction Northwoods expected, but I don’t think it was silence.

  Conveniently, the Viceroy arrived just then, coming down the large set of stairs flanked by guards with big halberds and ceremonial armor. The man was young, maybe thirty at the outside. Like every other man I’d seen in the Empire, he was clean shaven, but his cheeks were ruddy and soft. Happy face though, and his smile stretched from ear to ear when he saw Cleeve.

  “Ah,” Northwoods boomed to the non-existent gallery, “I see you have been waiting for me.”

  A singular eyebrow raised as the Viceroy looked over at Papa Northwoods.

  “You are?” the Viceroy asked.

  “I am Lord Northwoods, of course.”

  “Oh, of course. Sadly, I was, in fact, waiting for someone else at the moment. I fear it is an appointment on the books for days now.” The Viceroy turned to the desk attendants, “Please see that Lord Northwoods is given refreshments while he waits.”

  Northwoods opened and closed his mouth a few times, but it would seem he had enough decorum to not speak back to a viceroy.

  The Viceroy embraced Cleeve in a big hug.

  “It has been too long, friend,” he said.

  Cleeve just smiled and gave a small bow.

  “Come,” the Viceroy said, gesturing to a set of double doors. “Tell me how I might help you.”

  Chapter 90