by Randi Darren
“This one would argue that your life is worth more than a bullet, Master. Perhaps it’s time to carry one on the off chance something like this happens again,” Petra intoned somberly.
“You’re probably right. Speaking of, thanks for the save, Meliae,” Vince said, looking up at the Dryad beside him. His eyes promised her a private conversation about her magic.
Blushing the Dryad nodded her head, not saying a word.
“Alright, loot all the bodies and stack ‘em up. Leave ‘em for the wild. It’ll help obscure what happened here.”
Chapter 11
They’d gotten lucky with the “spoils of war” from the dead and the camp they found after. Most of it was things they could pack easily and either take back home or sell without a problem to the guild.
Most especially fortuitous was that one of the combatants had been a female Elf in a slave collar.
That extra collar had immediately gone onto Meliae without any commands or requirements to put on it. It’d serve as a decent cover.
They’d have to break it when they got back home, but that was a problem for another time.
Right now, the situation was more of a political one. Vince would need to deal with what, to his mind at least, was a clear and obvious declaration of war between two kingdoms.
One that’d probably plunge the entire area into an ugly and bitter, drawn-out war.
The quickest way to undermine a country was to topple their economy or their ability to feed the population. In either of those situations, internal stability would usually fall to zero and bottom out rapidly.
This wasn’t to say the country would immediately fall, but it would definitely put pressure on the government.
If the problem was severe enough, that government might not be able to cope with, say, a sudden and furious assault from a neighbor. One that promised the citizens of the other food at a reasonable price. Perhaps jobs to earn the coin to buy it, too.
At least, that was what Vince would’ve done. Destabilize, then attack.
Now he had to convey that point to everyone involved, without actually saying it.
The pop of a log shattering into flaming coal shook him from his thoughts.
Looking to the side, he saw Petra, Fes, and Meliae lined up against the wall. Staring straight ahead. Unmoving. Silent.
His license now had a third marker to denote Petra’s ownership. It gave Petra protection, yet also could create a problem if people started asking questions about when he procured her.
Being forced to stand like statues was only the latest in the long list of slights they had to deal with.
The sooner they left for home, the better. This whole area was a powder keg and the population didn’t seem to even realize it.
From the back of the room, Vince heard the doorknob rattle and the lock click. Facing forward, with his back uncomfortably towards the door, Vince waited for whoever it was to join him and proceed with his debriefing.
“Vince, thank you. Please remain seated,” said an older voice. “My name is Al, and I’m the senior guild representative to the Kingdoms of Portland and Washington. I’ve asked each kingdom to send a representative to join us based on your preliminary report. They have graciously acquiesced.”
Vince said nothing and remained seated as requested. Stepping around his chair came three men. The first, dressed in a Ranger guild uniform, was who he assumed was Al.
The second man had a pinched face and looked the part of the elder statesmen. Dressed in resplendent clothes, he gave off the impression of someone who grubbed for coins from everyone who asked him for a favor, then had the gall to turn around and expense a lunch on his employer.
The third man was more interesting. Middle-aged, dressed in a military uniform, and… and familiar. Vince stared at the man, trying to place him.
It tickled at his mind like a cut on his lip. The kind you wanted to run your tongue over repeatedly, feeling the sweet tingle of pain with each pass.
On the edge of his awareness, he could feel everyone in the room. Each of the three felt like they were exactly who they should be to him.
The cursory analysis he did with his extra senses was a normal thing for him. Its range was a measly ten feet, but it provided him a window into a person’s mind he had come to rely on.
This was all normal and expected by him. So when the familiar man’s mind vanished from Vince’s senses, he only barely managed to control his surprise.
The only people who had ever done that were his parents, who were well aware of his ability. More often than not when they wanted to hide something from him. Which only made it move obvious, really.
Trying to look the part of an eager guilder, Vince swung his eyes to his own representative, visibly dismissing the other men.
He knows I can sense him. Knows exactly what I can do with it and how to protect himself from me. How does he know? Does he know me? Did he know my parents?
“First. Why didn’t you report in here once you were operating in the area?” Al queried. The question was said innocently enough, but it gave Vince a clue about the man’s mindset.
“It isn’t standard procedure to check in with the guild. Such a thing isn’t mentioned in the handbook, guild rules, or even the lessons in polite behavior. I have no obligation to do so,” Vince said bluntly. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Technically, this man had no authority over him.
Only his personal guild handler had any type of control over him. And that person wasn’t here.
In addition to that, Vince had a sneaking suspicion that the “bandits” might have been on high alert if Vince had checked in here first.
“Of course. Local custom would have Ranger’s checking in first. This would be your first time up this way?”
“As a Ranger, yes.”
Al nodded at that and seemed to set the matter aside.
“Now, Vince, you reported that you suspect there to be involvement from a government agency, yet you have no corroborating proof or evidence of that. Could you elaborate on that for me?” said Al with a slimy smile.
“Certainly. The crew we eliminated were very well armed, trained, and were conducting themselves in a fashion at odds with a bandit gang. We found a large number of tools, weapons, and other implements that were well beyond the means of what they were doing with those items.
“That leaves two options. They killed and robbed an elite detachment of military-trained operatives. Or they were the operatives.”
“Yes. I understand you’ve already sold all of those items to the guild at standard rates?” Al asked.
It was a question he’d expected and had made sure to prep himself for it.
In order to better service their people, and make money, the guild bought any and all loot at a higher rate than what they could get selling it to a merchant.
“That’s correct. I notified the clerk that they would likely be declared as evidence upon the sale so that they could be itemized correctly,” Vince clarified. He didn’t want it coming back to him later that he’d withheld anything, so they’d simply sold it to them with the intent that it was all accounted for up front.
“Good, good. You said they were well trained?” Al prompted.
“Very much so. They were well defended, had planned extensively, and were honestly tough to kill. They underestimated us, much to their detriment.” Vince nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d been offered earlier while he was waiting.
“After dispatching of them and searching through everything we could put our hands on, it was more of what we found missing than what we found. As I’ve already said, their possessions were in excess of what you’d expect a bandit to have. They also had nothing on them that would identify them in any way, shape, or form. Down to even the clothes they wore. Nothing that could be traced to anything on anyone.”
Al and the familiar man frowned at that. The weasel-faced man made a harrumphing noise.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” said th
e familiar man.
“Ah, beg your pardon, Mister…?” Vince prompted.
“Seville. Seville will do fine.”
“Beg your pardon, Seville, but it doesn’t add up. Bandits that are attacking farms to simply butcher livestock and… what, sell the meat? There were no wagons, no wagon tracks, and no meat anywhere around the camp. Which means they didn’t bring it back with them. Either they ate it or dumped it. If they ate it or dumped it, why bother?” Vince asked, holding up his hands in confusion.
“Why would well trained, military-specced, heavily armed bandits do little better than steal livestock?
“And to what end? To… eat it? No, a group like this would be raiding roads and merchants. Nothing about this makes sense. The only valid possibility then becomes that they were being paid by someone else to do these things.”
Vince paused to take another sip from his tea. He’d said more than he’d wanted to, but they’d limited their responses to his statements.
The sinking feeling in his stomach warned him that not only were they aware of this, all of them, but that they all knew each other was aware of it as well.
“Is that all?” Al asked.
“All that I can report on. As you yourself said, there is no evidence to support any of this. This is all supposition.”
Weasel face on the left peered at him suspiciously. “You’re surprisingly well spoken for a Ranger.”
Vince quirked his eyebrows at that yet said nothing, instead looking to Al to gauge his response at the implied insult.
Al waved a negligent hand at the comment and stood up.
“You’re dismissed, Ranger Vincent. Please remain for a time so we may speak privately later. I’ll seek you out in the next ten minutes or so,” Al said brusquely.
Vince stood and nodded his head to Al. Turning without a word, Vince made his way to the exit. With a glance to his party, he gave them a slight tilt of his head toward the door.
Fes, Meliae, and Petra were already in motion, filing in behind him. Stepping out of the room, Vince held a finger to his lips.
Nodding in unison, his group said nothing.
They made their way up to their rooms in silence. Only the soft hiss of their boots on the wooden floor could be heard.
It was unsettling how quiet the building was. Eerie, even.
As the guild had provided them rooms inside of the compound, they’d only need to walk for a minute or two to reach their small bit of privacy. The rooms had been granted since their mission had taken a sudden and political turn.
It wasn’t until Vince had closed and locked the door behind them that he felt anything bordering on “ease.”
“Load of shit,” Fes grumbled, flopping into a chair. “They knew. Wanted you to spell it all out for them.”
“So it would seem,” Vince murmured, walking over to the single table their room had. “This all… worries me.”
“This one would agree. This place is built for the life of many, yet we are all that are here.” Petra eased her abdomen down onto the bed. It was probably the closest she’d ever get to actually sitting down. A normal chair wouldn’t accommodate her, after all.
“Yes. I asked one of the plants in the lobby. Apparently this lack of people is very out of the ordinary. There’s no way to really get a sense of time from a plant, but if I had to guess, it’s been like this for about a month.” Meliae took the seat across from Fes, directly in front of Vince.
Peering down at the Dryad, he got a lovely view of her cleavage. It took him a second to realize she’d deliberately placed herself and arranged her posture in such a way to present him that view.
“I’ll check the logbook, but I’d bet that everyone has been tasked with missions that are low risk, high pay, and for long periods of time, or very far away. Someone has singled out the Ranger guild,” Vince admitted, tearing his eyes from Meliae’s impressive assets.
“This one would remind her master that the first step to conquering a foe is limiting their ability to wage war. If the guild has no soldiers, they cannot fight. If they cannot fight, they are no longer a concern for one side, or the other.” Petra rubbed one hand across her bare upper arm.
Since coming into the compound, she’d been forced to unequip her armor and wear normal clothing.
She still seemed rather ill at ease with her wardrobe.
For now, she was wearing Fes’s clothes since she was the closest in approximate size to her. The vest she’d donned seemed stretched at the shoulders and across the front. It clearly didn’t fit as well for Petra as it did Fes.
It almost looked like she was going to pop a button if she thrust her chest out.
Need to buy her clothes. Don’t have time to dick around here in danger town. We’ll just have to hit somewhere on the way home.
“You’re right, Petra. That’s the very reason I’d like to be gone as soon as possible. Let’s pack up and get our shit together. The moment we’re done with Al, I want to be on the road. Even if we’re leaving at midnight. Can’t get away from this place soon enough,” Vince said with a nod of his head.
In the meantime, we can drop a few inquiries about Seville. He knew me. Or at least, knew what I could do.
Fes grunted and then folded her arms under her chest. “Can we use the training field? I can see it from the window. Petra and I should train. Spar, even.”
Vince looked to Petra to make sure she was alright with the situation, though he had to admit to himself he didn’t want to get between the two of them.
Since Petra had joined the group, Fes had been domineering and aggressive towards the ant-girl. He could probably fix the situation by pointing out the obvious and forcing them into the right roles.
Vince started to open his mouth to do that when Meliae kicked him in the shin under the table. Then did it again.
He wasn’t stupid, nor was the Dryad. She was well aware of what was going on as he was, and she was clearly of the opinion that he shouldn’t involve himself. At least not yet.
Smiling at Fes, he nodded his head.
“That should be fine. If anyone asks, tell them I told you to, but to not leave the compound, or with anyone else.”
Giving Vince a feral grin, Fes left, Petra following along mutely.
No sooner had the door clicked shut than he looked to Meliae.
“Did you have to kick me? I admit I’m made of sterner stuff than most, but that felt hard enough that it might have actually left a bruise,” Vince told the Dryad with a smile.
“No, I didn’t. But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to crawl under the table to wrap my lips around it and make it better,” teased the Dryad.
Being a normal male, Vince felt his member leap upwards at the underlying suggestion. Nevertheless, he wanted to hear more.
“Don’t you mean kiss it?” Vince asked, feeling his heart speed up a fraction.
Meliae tilted her head to one side, watching him with a smile instead of responding. She leaned forward instead, her top folding slightly in the front to expose herself more to his eyes.
Nymph. She’ll eagerly perform in front of others, but she’s the most bold when alone.
“A pity we’ll have to wait for the guild mediator to leave for you to find out,” said the Dryad, leaning back in her chair, closing up that view.
Not trusting himself to say anything, Vince nodded his head wordlessly.
Vince had no way to check, but he knew it’d been longer than twenty minutes since he’d left the meeting room.
He and Meliae had simply spent the time chatting about mundane things, which, while pleasant, didn’t solve his growing irritation.
Make me wait much longer and we’ll just leave. Politeness and pay be damned. Something isn’t right here.
At that thought, the door shook under three rapid knocks and then swung open.
Mastering his expression before he could reveal anything, like the fact that the door had been locked, Vince watched Al enter the room.
The
man seemed mildly disappointed, to Vince’s eyes. He didn’t even want to begin to guess what he could be possibly disappointed in.
“My apologies for making you wait. I’ll keep this brief,” Al said, coming to stand in front of the table.
“As you may have noticed, the vast majority of the Rangers who call this hub home are out on missions. I was hoping you’d be willing to stay on for a while until a few return,” Al said smoothly.
“I’m afraid not. We’ll need to be heading back immediately.” Vince stated it as fact.
“I see. I’ll be activating the emergency contingency of your Ranger contract, then. You’ll receive pay equal to your average over a month’s period for the last three months, broken out by day. Plus ten percent. As stipulated in the charter.” Al reached into an inner fold of his clothes and flipped out a document in front of Vince.
Truth be told, Vince wasn’t surprised. He’d thought of all the ways he could be forced into remaining here.
Which was why he’d spent a few hours reading through this particular section of the charter one night previous.
“My standard rate of pay, based on what you’ve stated, is two and a half standards per day. You can confirm this by pigeon, of course, or take my word for it,” Vince said without a hint of emotion.
“What? That’s… fine. After lodgings and meals—”
“Actually, as part of the same section in the charter, all meals and lodging are to be provided by the hub enacting the charter. In the next section, it details out that period of activation cannot be longer than a month. It also states you’ll need to specify how long I’m to be on retainer.” Vince picked up the document in front of him and read through it quickly.
Al stood up straighter, his mouth turning up in a small smile.
“The full month,” he said immediately.
“Then I can request my entire pay up front, as the contract is pre-set for the maximum,” Vince said. After a moment, he found the spot on the document that listed the time to be hired. Filling it out for a full month, Vince then signed the sheet. “Please have my pay ready for me tonight. I believe that works out to be seventy standards for twenty-eight days. You can have it delivered with my payment for the contract I’ve already settled.”
