Peril & Profit

by M. H. Johnson

  "Well I'll give you credit, cousin, you certainly were filled with something! I never thought you could smash through that door like that. I mean, the bar holding it was steel, and you bent it like taffy!"

  "Truth to tell, cousin, I don't think I was exactly in my right state of mind at that moment," Sorn admitted wryly, acknowledging for the first time himself the berserk frenzy that he had felt overcome him after Lord Vorstice's twisted gloating. He had suppressed it only long enough to capture Vel, after which it had flared hotter than ever, particularly when Sorn's incredibly acute hearing had picked up Halence's moans through the gap under the iron reinforced door that had safeguarded the dungeon before Sorn had managed to bash his way through.

  The four youths proceeded to make their way back to Vorstice's demesne, seemingly unconcerned with the looks of apprehension their bodiless voices generated from all who heard them in passing. The reaction of their fellow pedestrians was a uniform one, as they shrugged their cloaks tighter about them, walking away from the bodiless voices as quickly as they could, exchanging haunted looks with any fellow pedestrians near them as they did so, though not saying a word.

  Soon enough the four made it back to Vorstice's place, gate closed, apparently undisturbed. The gate seemed to open and close of its own accord as they entered, and Sorn heard one of his cousins snicker as a pedestrian who just happened to look their way gasped in horror and dashed off the way he came, no doubt thinking Vorstice's mansion haunted.

  "You know, Sorn", commented a once again visible Fitz, "we are going to have to clean up anyway before we see the king, and since we are already here, there is something else we can take care of."

  Sorn favored Fitz with a knowing smile. "Why cousin! You wouldn't by any chance be speaking of Vorstice's 'cleverly' hidden gold, now would you?" Sorn said teasingly.

  "Well…"

  "Of course we're going to get that while we're here!" Sorn assured with a gentle chuckle. "Honestly, why do you think we came back here to hide the bodies? Speaking of which, as long as were here, and the walls are high..."

  "Sorn!" Fitz said in mock outrage. "You can't mean what I think you mean, being Mr. prim and proper."

  Sorn sighed. "To tell you the truth, cousins, I'm starving. Not to mention exhausted. I think that rage I felt demands a price for its strength. Tell you what, guys, we'll go raid the larder after we find the gold." Sorn twirled about and laughed, exhilarated at the thought of adding yet more shiny gold to his hoard. "Okay, guys, let's go treasure hunting!"

  His excitement was mirrored by his cousins, all of them whispering and giggling like children as they made their way past various scenes of carnage back into the cellar's dungeon.

  "Here it is, guys!" Sorn called excitedly as he found the discreet grooves in one of the stones lining the floor of the last prison cell. Inhumanly strong fingers allowed Sorn to get a firm grip on the edges of the large stone block without the use of any tool, its weight intended no doubt as an added safeguard on the off chance that someone might have been imprisoned in this cell. Of course, the weight of the block and the lack of any apparent tools served as no deterrent for these youths, their eyes dancing merrily in the flickering torchlight as Sorn steadily pulled the large stone block out of its socket. How Vorstice had managed to shift the stones originally, they neither knew nor cared. All three brothers’ expressions were rapt with excitement, their eyes greedily locked onto Sorn’s intent form as he quickly pulled up several other adjoining stones, each one two feet deep and a foot square.

  Fitz gave a delighted gasp, soon mirrored by his brothers. "Look at that!" he said, gazing raptly at the chest below. Sorn only nodded, eyeing the chest with a calculating expression.

  "So far, Vorstice has shown himself to be clever, if overconfident and ruthless. Though he did not mention such, it occurs to me that perhaps there are one or more traps here, just like the poison laden bag of silver contained in his bedroom upstairs."

  Sorn's cousins shared concerned looks at that. "So what do you think we should do, Sorn?"

  "Well, first of all, give me a minute to recast my warding spells, just for prudence sake."

  A full minute later, a now visibly weary Sorn smiled in satisfaction. His joy at the heady rush of magical energies coursing through him was overlaid with a definite pallor of exhaustion at this point. Even Sorn's cousins could sense that he was at his limit, if their worried scents were anything to go by.

  "Sorn, you okay?" a concerned Fitz asked.

  "You certainly are a worrywart today, aren't you cousin?" Sorn said fondly, his gentle tone taking out any sting, and Fitz smiled in wry acknowledgment. "That was the most difficult spell I know, after all, and I have cast it several times today. Not to mention numerous other spells."

  "Not to mention being so filled with juice you were able to burst right through that door!" Hanz said in admiration, pointing as he spoke to the twisted and shattered remains of what had been a truly imposing barrier hours before.

  "Quite," Sorn said dryly. "Now about this chest. If there is a trap, it is probably in the lock, so it would probably be best to open it from an unorthodox angle."

  Sorn pointed a finger at the chest as he said those words, blowing off its top with a carefully aimed arcane missile. Wooden splinters settled around Sorn, and he couldn't help but smile in triumph at the sight before them. When the three triplets turned to look into the now topless chest, they too gasped in surprise and delight at the sight below.

  The chest was filled with multiple sacks, many tied tight with twine. What took their breath away were the contents spilling out of the couple that had been torn open by Sorn's spell, a rich waterfall of lustrous gold shimmering in the flickering torchlight.

  "Guys," Sorn said, firmly holding his hands to ward off his cousin's hungry approach. "Remember, a certain Lord is not above using contact poison, so let's just make use of one or two of the guards' thick leather gauntlets, shall we?"

  With that, an embarrassed looking trio went off to fetch the gauntlets worn by the erstwhile guards still occupying this room in physical form at least. "It's not like they're going to need them," Hanz wryly noted, pulling one pair free of a fallen guard.

  "Here, Sorn," Fitz said, tossing his cousin a pair, which Sorn adroitly caught. Soon enough, the bags were all piled before them, and several quick cantrips revealed not a trace of poison on any of them, or upon their contents.

  "Sorn!" Lieberman said excitedly. "There has to be literally thousands here! Thousands and thousands of gold royals!"

  "Actually, they appear to be phoenix. One hundred gold phoenix per bag, unless I miss my guess. Ten bags, of course, means we have stumbled upon a find of not less than ten thousand gold crowns!"

  Sorn's voice had rapidly become one of excited glee as he finished this statement, he and his cousins crowing their triumph in unison. All four linked arms and began to sing glorious songs about gold, laughing at their own gore-spattered forms, a crimson counterpoint to the wondrous lustre of gold, evidence of foes fallen before them, their enemies' hoard now their own.

  After finishing their impromptu dance, the four youths quickly took their sacks of gold up out of the dungeon, heading up to Vorstice's top floor to look for bedding to wrap the sacks in, as well as seeking to raid his upstairs hoard, token that it was. The elegant portraits lining the walls, interspersed with exquisite figurines and pottery, gave the demesne a look both wealthy and sophisticated. All four youths found themselves gazing avariciously at the display of wealth that, having vanquished their enemy, they now considered their own, as any dragon would.

  Sorn sighed.

  "It's a pity we can't bring it all at the moment, but most of this stuff looks pretty fragile, and would take up a lot of space we don't have in any case."

  “Remember guys," Sorn continued as they entered what they assumed was Vorstice's bedroom. "One of his bags is most definitely trapped, so it would be best to be careful. Better yet, let me take care of it."

  The c
ousins huffed as Sorn went about searching for and soon found the secret lever that revealed the small hidden treasure chest under Vorstice's bed. It was a careful Sorn indeed that opened each of the sacks, still wearing the guard’s thick leather gloves, checking for poison as he did so. At last he indicated the one tainted bag he had found, the rest being free of any danger.

  "Mostly silver eagles and talons here, I'm afraid, with just a handful of royals in one of the bags."

  The triplets sighed, pleased but slightly let down by a display of wealth that was, in fact, several times in excess of the coins Lord Canterbier himself had given them just two weeks before. Wealth that had filled them with such ecstatic happiness at the time.

  "You three are getting spoiled," Sorn said with a wry smile. "No doubt from the ten thousand gold’s worth we found downstairs."

  Sorn couldn't help chuckling once again, his cousins all but bouncing with excited glee. Fitz, Sorn noted with satisfaction, was making a thorough investigation of Vorstice's desk, supposedly searching for yet further secret compartments. None were found to Fitz's disappointment, but a brief perusal of the papers they did find showed the deed to the three warehouses they had spotted a short time ago.

  "Come on, guys," Sorn said contentedly after tearing the silks free of Vorstice's bed. "Let's finish with the looting here."

  That said, they did a quick perusal of the other upper chambers, belonging to Lord Vorstice's sons, it seemed. Their search netted several further bags of silver, a dozen gold royals, a number of silk bedsheets, and two jeweled daggers. All and all, a very rewarding find. Especially the jeweled daggers. Nice and shiny. A dragon could sit and stare for hours at the glittering spectacle of his jewels, losing himself in the brilliant dance of light and color that gave his gems their sparkling hue.

  Sorn's hum was a contended one as he wrapped the strong silk bedding multiple times about their sacks of silver and gold. It was only when he was finished, his cousins scouring the pantry, that Sorn's eyes opened wide and he dashed back down to the dungeon as fast as his feet could take him.

  17

  "Sorn?" Fitz called out to him some minutes later, absently gnawing on a roasted pig, bringing some for his cousin. His brothers were in tow, also chewing ravenously on various slabs of smoked meats. "Where did you go?"

  "Guys! Check this out!" Came Sorn's excited cry.

  The cousins, still holding their snacks, munched their way down to the cellars. Their casual curiosity soon turned to expressions of rapture, and their cries of delight were music to an exuberant Sorn's ears as he poured between his fingers a number of finely cut rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds.

  "Where did you find those, Sorn!?" Fitz asked in an awed whisper. "They're beautiful!"

  "Actually, you gave me the idea, Fitz. Back when you were looking for secret compartments in Vorstice's desk. It made me think that a guy that wily must have something further to hide, perhaps using the obvious find of wealth to disguise a second hoard. Sure enough, I was right. When I pulled free the splintered remains of the chest, there appeared to be nothing but dirt beneath, but some digging with one of those metal things soon led to this little chest here. It was booby-trapped all right, so I just broke it open from behind again."

  Sorn offhandedly gestured to the small steel chest with what was once an instrument of torture, now serving as Sorn's digging utensil.

  "Besides their obvious distasteful use, these things are pretty useful for bashing things. Wasn't too hard for me to snap the hinges in back of the chest, and since I wedged it against the wall and that stone slab there, the chest didn't jostle too much. Would have been a shame to hurt anything fragile inside. Fortunately, these beauties were wrapped in felt!" Sorn's eyes fairly glowed with excitement, and his gleeful grin was mirrored perfectly by his cousins.

  "We're rich, guys! Beyond our wildest dreams!" Sorn laughed then, tossing his digging tool aside and flipping the gems to his cousins who spent a few minutes in an impromptu juggling session, showing the coordination and skill of long practice.

  It had not been so many months ago since they had juggled gems in another time and place, Sorn's smile becoming momentarily maudlin before he shook the thought away. He would make the best of the cards he had been dealt, pull sweetest triumph from the maw of folly.

  "Okay, guys," Sorn directed some moments later. "Let's pack these beauties up and get something to eat. Fortunately, we have hours of daylight left, so I suppose we might have time for a brief nap at the ship."

  Sorn's eyes lit up as he noted the slabs of meat his cousins had offhandedly left lying about the gore-spattered room. "Food! Excellent work cousins!"

  Sorn scooped up one of the slabs, tearing into it with visceral satisfaction.

  "Got to hand it to that vile little slime ball," Sorn said, spraying no small amount of meat as he spoke, "he certainly packs a decent larder."

  The four youths made their way upstairs once again. Soon enough, they had their newfound wealth neatly stored about their persons, the majority tightly packed in Vorstice's own silk bedding. Munching happily, they proceeded out the shattered front door, the bloody remains of the skirmishes they had fought fortunately well out of sight of the gate so many yards ahead. Sorn's aching gaze though revealed the fierce appetite he could barely keep in check himself, joint in hand notwithstanding. His nose flared at the scent of so much meat.

  "We're all starving, Sorn, and it's not like this city is likely to feed us before we have to leave, being in a siege and all." Fitz's gaze was all but pleading.

  Sorn winced, unable to deny his cousin's valid point.

  "He's right, cousin. There is no guarantee at all that they will feed us even a fraction of what we require before we have to leave." Hanz affirmed.

  "Think, Sorn. There is no point in letting so much of Vorstice's larder go to waste, now is there? There is only so much we can eat in our present form, and we are all famished," Lieberman said, opting for the logical argument.

  Sorn sighed. "You know, of course, that if we stuff ourselves, we will be stuck in our other forms for hours until the food is properly absorbed."

  "We know, cousin," Fitz soothed. "But as you yourself said, we still have hours of daylight left, plenty of time for a nap. And we need to eat!"

  The last came out with guttural emphasis that Fitz could no longer hide. Sorn's eyebrows raised as he considered both his cousins' true state, and how young they were, growing rapidly, and needing steady nourishment for that growth, whatever the form they stayed in. The painful truth of the matter was that he had been so caught up in striving to successfully fit into this world and take care of the people he had grown so fond of, that he had been sadly neglecting his cousins’ own needs.

  "You're right," Sorn confessed, more than slightly saddened with how poor a guardian he was turning out to be.

  "You guys have done phenomenally well with the demands that I have put upon you, blending in at least as well as I. And to think that I have been so stinting as to force you to endure short rations, at that."

  His cousins preened at the compliment.

  Sorn nodded resolutely to himself, as if coming to a difficult decision that he knew, nonetheless, was right. "Bring all the meat out, my cousins. It is unfair of me to force upon you what are for the moment unnecessary strictures. Especially when you have all done so well and I have been so neglectful, particularly after you three made such an excellent showing, vanquishing our foes by my side."

  "All the meat?" A surprised Fitz asked with joyous incredulity.

  "All of it," Sorn affirmed with a solemn nod of his head. "You have vanquished your foes righteously. Never mind my own qualms. It is only fair to you."

  It was three very cheerful youths who made their way through the house, bringing all the food contained in the larder and elsewhere, of course, the cousins knowing exactly where to look. "Is that everything?" Sorn asked intently when the cousins were done.

  "Well…" Fitz began looking slightly unco
mfortable. "There was, you know, downstairs. But we didn't think it proper to bring that up with us."

  "Oh. You were quite right about that. It would have been improper in the extreme." Sorn looked up at his cousins with a smile, proud of their developing sense of morality. The poor tortured sailor had, after all, been a friend. His own hunger was becoming ravenous, and now that he was at peace with his decision, Sorn smiled with anticipation for the meal ahead. One of the four horses that had been lead so docilely to the center of the field by Lieberman began to snort and twist away, unsettled with the stink of death about the area.

  It was then Sorn thought upon the other request he had made of Nadelins, a vial that, not surprisingly, had seen no usage as of yet, considering his manner of conflict resolution. Nonetheless, now it would come in handy.

  "It's okay, Lieberman. Lead the horses back a distance, over to where the well is."

  Nodding, Lieberman did so, and the troubled horse became calm once more. At which point Sorn came over, casually drawing up the water pail.

  "Nadelins said this had no scent, though you and I can still smell the floral tinge, though hopefully, the horses won't mind." Sorn poured half the contents of the clear flask into the pail of water.

  "With all that has occurred, I doubt anyone has been in to see the horses for a while, so no doubt they are thirsty."

  Indeed, the horses butted heads to drink from the bucket, and soon enough it was all but dry. Sorn had made sure that all four of them had a chance to drink from, it of course. Though the horses were large animals, Nadelins had said only a drop was needed to put someone in a gentle stupor, and several and he was unlikely to feel anything at all. The whole vial could easily kill someone, she had warned.

  Indeed, all the horses were now quite calm as they were led back to the field, one or two of them stumbling with their suddenly uncoordinated gait. Once they were led back to the field's center where the rest of the meat was, they were quickly dispatched. Thanks to Nadelins' potion and his cousin's own proficiency, the animals hardly felt a thing.