The Emissary Bard (World Of Chains Book 3)

by Lars M.

  "Why Wisdom, though? 'Bloody feathered cowards' would be more apt." Bennett was living up to his nickname of Sourpuss as usual, making friends left and right. This time, he was not alone in his opinions, however.

  "Yeah. Either that or, those leaders of yours are, like, not too smart. You can see it for yourself. They can just lock themselves inside the bloody castle and fly away. What would your precious Wisdom say about that?” Arack pointed at the castle that was currently a darker blob in the cover of night. There were no lights. Apparently, they knew better than to carry torches to ruin their night vision.

  Tirane just looked... tired. "They would probably say ‘good riddance’ and count themselves fortunate that it was somebody else's problem now. Listen, I don't like it either, but it is what it is. If I return with three killed friends because we decided to disregard their orders, I'm going to be exiled, at the very least. So you can either take our assistance, such as it is, or leave it entirely."

  Arack's tail swept back and forth like a snake on the warpath. "Thracken help me. So, where does that leave us? What do we know?"

  One of the harpy scouts spoke up. "We have observed fifteen people at most, at any given time. However, from the movement spotted within the castle, there are bound to be more. Likely between twenty and thirty."

  "How many do they have guarding the walls at night?" Claire asked.

  "Six that we can see. There may be others inside the walls."

  The redhead nodded. "How about the chains? How are they fixed? What I really mean is, will they be able to take off right away?"

  "It's some sort of drill going into the ground. I can't see how they would be able to remove it without direct physical interaction. Unless magic is involved." The scout shrugged.

  "Can we take the guards out silently?" I asked.

  That sparked off a round of discussion about methods, approaches, and best weapons for the task. The discussion was starting to get heated when Lyle broke in. "Hey! We're missing something here. Should we even attack? I mean, who knows if it's our attackers?" Lyle was met with cries of scorn and derision, but faced it stoically. "I'm serious. Sure, odds are that it's them - especially since Arcangelo knows that Othell is in there - but is a direct attack really the right approach? What if they are innocent?"

  "Kid has a point." His father spoke up. "You kill 'em all, find out afterwards half of 'em didn't have a thing to do with attacking us, what'll ya do? Apologize?"

  "Another coward? Want me to see if you're sprouting feathers there, too, Lawrence, like them harpy chickens? You weren't that timid when the whole village wanted to off me." Benneth spat in front of the massive blacksmith.

  The debate was about to spark off into another direction, but I stood up, interrupting. "Stop! Everybody." I glared first at Benneth and then at Lawrence. "The enemy is right up there. If we descend into shouting matches, they'll hear us and come investigate. Do you want to be responsible for that?" I looked around at the rest. "Anybody? Good. Now, as much as I dislike it, Lyle has a point. I believe I have an idea regarding how to handle the battle, but it would be best if we could take out the guards in silence – and bloodlessly. Is that possible?"

  We spent hours debating, but eventually settled on a plan without too many moving parts. Everybody had rested and spent a while consuming or applying whatever buffs they had available. We didn’t hold back. Arack divvied out every single concoction she had created in High Hold, and I did the same with my clay bombs. I also gave Lyle and Arack a health potion each, just in case. Night vision buffs for the ranged attackers, block for close combat fighters, and the unarmored dodge ones for the rest of us.

  Soon, we had hunters and rogues climbing different sides of the island, using the chains to reach the upper part of the Shard, where the sides weren't obstructed by an overhang. Even as I watched from below, Arack’s climbing form disappeared into the air, hoisted by a rope from one of the stronger climbers. The island wasn't high. Seven or eight men standing on top of each other would be able to reach the edge. Still, watching from below, it seemed crazy to even contemplate the climb at night. Soon, however, I found myself standing beneath the floating fragment, palms sweating as I considered the task ahead of me. Right now, Claire and Arack would be sneaking closer to take out the single guard overlooking the bridge, and then everybody would attempt to incapacitate the remaining guards. This was the crucial part. If they were spotted right away, we would have to fall back and defend the anchors in an attempt to keep them from flying away. That could quickly descend into a protracted mess of an exchange with them having the high ground.

  Two nerve-wracking minutes later, I heard the 'flops' as two lengths of rope uncoiled from above to reach the ground. Darya confidently gripped one end of the rope and started looping it through one of the rings in my harness.

  I pulled on the harness, whispering. "Are you sure this is going to hold?"

  "If it isn't, we're bound to find out pretty fast." She gave me a quick kiss. "Don't worry. I made it myself, and I'm heavier than you. It should hold just fine. Now, let me see you."

  I stood back and held up my hands while she double-checked the knots.

  Finally, she stood back. "Try not to flail too much. And stay safe. I mean that. Oh, and if you fall, try not to scream." With a final smile, the brawny half-orc hurried over to hoist the other end of the rope, and Benneth joined her. A moment later, a whooshing sensation rushed through my stomach as they started hauling me up hand over hand.

  It was a disturbing sensation. I barely contained an outcry as I was pulled up in stops and starts, my body jerking and spinning out of control. A moment later, my back struck the side of the island, and I experienced a few seconds of being dragged upward against rocks and earth. Not recommendable. It even shaved a few of my hit points off. I managed to twist myself around and soon started pushing off slightly with my hands to keep a bit of distance between me and the wall.

  It must have taken less than thirty seconds, all told. Before I knew it, I was dragged over the edge while I did my best to crawl for myself and avoid having my face scraped against the dirt. Arack was there, helping me up. Once I was safe, she located the rope, gave three quick tugs and waited a moment before she started pulling it up. I scrambled to my feet and began to help her. Together, we managed to bring the rope up and scurried to the bridge. Still no outcry from the castle. Every moment we could manage would mean more guards incapacitated and out of the battle that was sure to come. Because it was coming. Regardless of what Lyle had said, I could feel it in my bones. This was going to be a night of blood and violence.

  Seconds later, I reached the bridge and planted myself right in front of it, while Arack got to work securing the rope on either side of me. I knelt and focused on arranging firewood in the way Darya had shown me, while Arack did her best to pile dirt over the rope to camouflage it. I froze as a muffled cry sounded from within the castle, only to end prematurely. "Damnit. We're running out of time, Arack. Finish the fire?" I strained my ears to hear if the cry had gone unnoticed. Sure enough, seconds later, a questioning voice broke the silence of the night.

  "This is it. We don't have time for anything else. Start the fire and hurry down." I equipped my violin and breathed, enjoying the last seconds of silence.

  "Thracken be with you, Uncle." Arack's voice was low-pitched as she disappeared into the darkness and fire bloomed into being in front of my feet.

  Even as confusion erupted from within the castle, my playing calmed my being and stilled the stress. Whatever else was going to happen, the first step had gone according to plan, and now, I just had to... well, bid them a warm welcome. The jolly notes of Haggard's A Midnight Gathering sprang into the night, and I played as loudly as I could, guaranteeing that they would hear me everywhere on the small island. Now, in addition to confusion, anger was definitely part of the package. I started infusing my playing with Affect Emotions in an attempt to calm down any premature attackers.

  It didn't take long
for them to spot me. Hell, if it had, I would've been surprised. The castle wall at the front of the courtyard was a tumbled, ruined mess, and I was standing right behind the only source of light as far as the eye could see. Heh, and I was also playing like I was trying to invite them to dance a jig. Soon, they were crowding the walls in front of me and my mind envisioned being targeted by weapons galore.

  "What is the meaning of this?" The booming voice easily drowned out my music. "Where are the guards? You lot, man their posts. The rest of you, prepare for battle and follow me."

  I kept playing, squinting into the darkness, to no avail. The bonfire had effectively killed my night vision, but on the bright side, it would have the same effect on the inhabitants. Lacta est... something, I thought. I'd tossed the metaphorical dice and could only hope that they fell to my advantage.

  The confused cries that rang through the night faded into the background as a figure emerged from the ruined walls of the castle. Behind him followed other shorter shadows, slowly advancing on the bridge where I was playing. However, where the others crept forward, slowly testing the way for any dangers, the lead figure strode. Soon, he reached the circle of light surrounding the bonfire and I saw him. He was a giant of a catfolk, easily a head and a half taller than me, all sinew and muscle. His clothes had been nice, once. A silver-garnished purple silk shirt and matching breeches fit tightly, accentuating his bulk and playing off the jet-black color of his fur. The only variety in his fur was a lightning-shaped splash of white arrayed right across his face. With his bearing and clothes, he could have had a noble, or even lackadaisical, appearance, if not for the scowl on his face - or the set of spiked, armor-covered gloves on his belt.

  He ranged forward, each step making a solid thud on the hard-packed dirt. The red icon above his figure depicted him as somebody I probably shouldn't mess with. His voice was deceptively mild, but I could detect the growl just underneath. "An unexpected visitor. One wonders why this visitor did not announce his presence in advance. Perhaps it has something to do with my missing guards? Hrrrm?" The sound of his queried growl rumbled loud enough that I could feel it.

  I let my music die and bowed, welcoming him with a huge smile. Step 2 complete. Start talking without being skewered. "Welcome to my fire, Milord. Please, have a seat and relax."

  "I prefer to conduct my business standing. It wastes less time." The last part, he snapped - somebody was not amused.

  "As you wish. As for your guards, they are snoring soundly, relatively unharmed. I would not wish to spoil the first time we get the chance to talk face to face with unnecessary misunderstandings." In fact, I was hoping the others had managed to handle the interactions without any deaths.

  "You say that as though we have spoken before."

  "Oh. Apologies. No, but I did enjoy the sound of your voice as you spoke with Sareena in Grant's Crossing. You are Lord Tergeth, I presume?" I bowed again.

  His eyes narrowed and he focused on my face. "You are he. The bard."

  I nodded. "Yes. Also, Aron sends his regards. He apologizes for being unable to comply with your demands, but he preferred my company over yours." That, of course, was a blatant lie, but I did enjoy the momentary look of confusion on his face. I packed away the violin and faced him again. "Now, for the formal introductions. My name is Arcangelo. I come as a representative of Grant's Crossing. Am I correct in assuming that you lead this fellowship?"

  "Yes. I rule here. And you talk like you have a pack hidden in the shadows, ready to pounce. Speak clearly. What is it you want?"

  "Reparations and assurances, obviously." I waved a hand dismissively. "You have caused us a great deal of monetary damage, along with some distress."

  "Reparations." He chewed on the word like an unexpected piece of gristle, and his hands moved almost imperceptibly towards the armored gloves on his belt. "I believe I asked you to speak clearly. I… dislike it, when people dance around their words.”

  "Oh, come now. You are not going to deny spying on and attacking our village, are you? Direct speech, then, milord. We care not about your undertakings, only that you pay for the damage you have cost us and agree to avoid targeting us in the future." Lyle and others wanted to take a more direct route, demanding that he fess up, tell us all his plans, and surrender, but in the end, I'd talked them into a more circumspect approach.

  "You do not even care?" The rumbling in his throat made me flinch until I realized that he was laughing. "I see now that we have read you wrong, little half-elf. Sareena did not mention that your morals were for sale."

  I cocked my head. "For sale? I do not see it that way - and neither does the Council. The damage has already been done and our focus is on ensuring that Grant's Crossing comes out ahead in the final tally."

  "Sareena! Othell! Come." His shout was loud enough to halt all night-time sounds of the forest. Soon, two familiar shapes moved forward, halting right behind the catfolk. "You know this half-elf?"

  The gorgeous elf visibly blanched, stuttering, "Y-yes, my lord. He is the bard I mentioned. I don't know-"

  "Silence. We will discuss your failure later."

  She flinched and only a meek "Yes, my lord," escaped her.

  "Othell. You have had time to reflect on your mistakes. If this bard says that he wants reparations for the damage done to Grant's Crossing, can he be trusted?" He focused entirely on me as he spoke, unwavering eyes staring at mine... or my jugular. It was hard to tell.

  "No, Sire. Not for a second. This bastard will say anything, do anything to get what he wants. That was how he tricked me into confessing." The ratling stared at me with undisguised hatred in his eyes.

  "Thank you, Othell. I do hope your opinion is not colored by your own failure, hrrmm?" His growing smile was disturbing. It looked less like a smile than a... promise. "So, my servant would not trust you. However, I sometimes find that people like you, who lie and cheat to get their way, are the tools I need. Let us talk."

  It did not feel like the danger had passed - in fact, he looked ready to spring at me at a moment's notice. I kept my eyes fixed on him and kept my posture business-like and formal. "By all means. Your attack, unwarranted and unnecessary as it was, has cost us quite a bit. Six buildings have been lost to the flames. Seven people have been killed. Fortunately, nobody important died, as our Priest managed a minor miracle, but-”

  "That's a lie!" Sareena blurted out the words. "Milord, I saw the halfling burned to a crisp before my eyes."

  My haughty grin drew back the attention of Lord Tergeth. "Come now. He is a Priest of Harrah. The god of Nature, life and death, has his tricks. It is known. Now, if there are no further interruptions?"

  "Milord, I was-"

  "Sareena." The single, cold word was more menacing than anything he had said so far. I wondered exactly how dangerous he was, to command this sort of fear.

  Taking it as my cue, I moved on. "In short, the worst loss was the Harbormaster's home, but we are still staring at a deficit of several hundred gold coins, and weeks, if not months, of work to recuperate what was lost. The Council proposes as follows: Remunerate us for this, adding in a hefty compensation for our troubles, and we work out an agreement, ensuring that we do not cross paths in the future - except perhaps for the express possibility of having need of respective services."

  The catfolk seemed to consider my proposition. "We pay you for any damages, and you ignore us? Regardless of the fact that we attacked you?"

  I nodded amiably. "Mr. Callahan - the founder of Grant's Crossing - did not agree at first, but I managed to talk him into seeing my side of things. Oh, and in time, we may agree on certain business measures, depending on what your interests in the forest are, of course."

  He grumbled. "We might discuss that. However, there is something else we need to discuss first." He cocked his head. "Why would I want to listen to your demands, instead of, say, eviscerating you and having Sareena boil your insides while you are still alive?" His delivery was entirely business-like and devoid of emoti
on.

  I shuddered involuntarily. "Ahem. As to that, I hope some of your friends back there have good eyesight. Now, if they were to approach the edge and look to the tree line?"

  An impatient flick of Lord Tergeth's hand sent four of his followers sprinting to the walls to stare into the darkness. "Nothing, Milord," one of them ventured.

  "A moment, if you please." With slow, exaggerated movements, I grabbed one of the branches from the fire, held it high, and waved it back and forth.

  At first, there was no reaction, but then suddenly, one of the followers cried out. "A fire, Milord. And... they're spreading out. There's five. Ten. No - dozens of them, Sire."

  I was starting to sweat at the way the catfolk's gaze was boring into me. "Interesting. So you did come prepared. However, you could have done this in daylight. The night is the time for ambushes and subterfuge. I despise subterfuge. Sareena?"

  "Milord?"

  He almost purred as he stared me right in the eyes. "Kindly shed some light on the tableau. I would like to see what we are facing."

  The elf bowed. "At once." She approached the edge of the cliff and gathered her hands... and suddenly, a light was forming there. With a grunt of effort, she flung the ball of light away and it sailed through the air to stay, hovering high above the forest below and illuminating everything. Cries from below revealed my companions’ surprise. The light also happened to reveal that half of the burning branches below were set in holders around the place to make it seem as though we were twice our number. She grinned. "There's maybe fifteen people down there, but they tried to make it look like there was a lot more."

  Lord Tergeth's smile started as satisfied and evolved into carnivorous. "Fifteen. I do so enjoy when people underestimate me. So, say that I do not intend to slaughter the lot of you right now. You wanted... money and assurances, was it?"

  I nodded, trying to project a degree of self-assurance I did not feel.