Dream (15 page)

“Yeah. Still, those kids will be OK,” the Jinxman nodded to three teens huddled miserably nearby. “Physically, anyway.” He dumped out his throwing knives and began scrubbing the blades clean.

Fred and Jeff manhandled a battered oak chest out of the cave, its lid held ajar by various Elf weapons, and lugged it over. “That’s all that is worth taking,” Jeff announced as he rubbed the small of his back. “Derek, can you give the stuff the once-over?”

“Yeah, but that’s it for the day. Dump it out.”

“That was the toughest yet,” Shad observed to Fred. “Those damned Elves fought like demons.”

“I didn’t think we were going to pull it off,” the barbarian agreed, combing blood clots out of his bearskin. “If those other bravos hadn’t just hit the place we wouldn’t have won.”

“Way too close. Still,” Shad glanced at the white-faced, shaking teens. “Good thing we did. Evil isn’t the word for them. Hannibal Lector would have been grossed out by those guys.”

“Morally, doing them was about as big an issue as killing scorpions,” Fred said, inspecting the glass eyes of his ‘skin.

“I felt more remorse over the Al Qaeda fighters we clipped,” Shad agreed. “So, what did our good deed net us?”

“Hundred-fifty-odd Marks in cash, and a lot of ethnic jewelry. Or is it racial?” Derek asked. “Anyway, some of their weapons we can sell to people who like that sort of thing. We have six smoke candles,” he indicated parchment-wrapped sticks that looked like pale gray traffic flares. “Basically smoke grenades, two caltrop bags, toss ‘em and you get twenty by twenty feet of caltrops, and a half-dozen scrolls of Light. Oh, and the leader’s sword is enchanted, pretty well, I think, but its stone.”

“I would have preferred Fireball, but those beat torches and they’re free, so to speak,” Shad shrugged. “Thirty-five Marks each?” He looked over the sword. “Kinda looks like a katana, but with more point and less curve. Is it evil?”

“No.”

“I take it that it works?”

“Better than steel,” Jeff said glumly.

“OK. I’m not interested. Anyone else?”

“I would,” Jeff spoke up. “I figure if I cross-class next level and take Sword-master, I can use it pretty well.”

Neither Fred nor Derek had any interest.

“Keep it wrapped up, and hang onto your rapier,” Derek suggested. “In town you’ll need to carry regular steel because a bravo carrying an Elf-blade will be remembered.”

“Maybe being remembered would be a defense,” Jeff countered. “After all, trying to be inconspicuous is exactly what the Wraiths would expect. Not the bear skin and robes, but local things.”

“Could work,” Fred grunted.

Shad thought about it as he sheathed his throwing knives. “OK. Watch the bravos when we’re back in town, and we’ll work on getting stylish. Are you going to start carrying the sword now?”

“Not until I level up.”

“All right,” Shad levered himself to his feet. “Let’s put some distance between us and this place.”

Chapter Eight

“Here’s your rock,” Shad snapped as Cadiz seated himself, gesturing towards the loaf-sized lump of granite on the table. “That’s a map, and notes on Carthage. Thing is, there was a necromancer building up an army in those blasted hills, your mound included. We spent four days skirmishing with Undead, mostly in the rain, before we got clear. We had to ambush the necromancer himself to make it out alive.”

“A necromancer?” Cadiz looked alarmed. “Are you sure he is dead?”

“We cut off his head, burned his body, and threw the head into the sea,” Shad shrugged. “If he comes back from that we’re all in trouble. We burned his books, separate of the body, and brought his staff back as proof.”

“That was most commendable,” the scholar nodded.

“Commendable be damned. It was a four-day running…skirmish,” Shad caught himself before saying ‘firefight’. “We ran out of food on the second day.”

“I understand. Bring the staff to the Fist tomorrow, and I will see you compensated for your actions,” Cadiz assured him. “I will leave you to a well-deserved rest. Oh, here is one hundred ten Marks, as promised, for the stone and information on Carthage.”

“Well, that got his attention,” Fred observed after the scholar scurried off.

“Ought to get us some street cred, as my kids would say,” Jeff agreed. “Now what?”

“A bath, laundry, sleep, food, maybe a whore,” Shad mumbled, scratching his unshaven cheek. “I’m out of all the charms that matter. Most of my clothes are ruined, my shield is holding together out of habit, and my sword is blunt from hacking at Undead bone.”

“Down time, then,” Derek sighed thankfully.

“Days. We need to rest up, and it’s normal activity. We’re flush, and bravos relax when they’re flush.”

“Then let’s get to it,” Jeff grinned.

“Go ahead. I’m too tired to stand up.”

As would be expected of bravos coming into money Derek had rented four of the Bearded Monkey’s best rooms, five days paid in advance, with hot baths and laundry services. He also bought a round for the house, compliments of the Black Talons, and followed it with a round for the fallen members of the Talons.

Drowsing in a tub of warm water, tankard in hand, Shad closed his eyes and relaxed, letting at least some of the strain and pain of the last five days drain away.

From the Elf fight it had been one rough road-they had seen strange lights that evening, and sent the freed captives on their way while the four investigated, and that investigation had led them to a necromancer and his budding army of Undead. Whether it was practice, obsession, or a need for secrecy, the death-caller had kept after the four, hounding them through and around the hills until they had managed to ambush him and sever his hold over the bony remains of his own follower.

It had been rough, and class knowledge or not Shad was certain that they would have died on those muddy hills if Uncle Sugar hadn’t sent them to Iraq, and if Jeff hadn’t gotten Ula. The patient little beast had stoically bore their packs as well as her own gear and never once slowed them down.

Shad wasn’t given to questioning life because of an inherent emotional tunnel-vision, but for the first time since they had arrived he seriously wondered if they could possibly survive long enough to get back home. In the hills he had been too wrapped up in the struggle to stay alive to think past the next action, but now the doubts surged to the surface, as the more they learned the longer their odds looked.

He shook his head-they would go as far as they could, and if they didn’t make it all the way, then at least they would leave a trail of bodies behind them to show how hard they had tried. Sometimes all you could do was shout at the devil and go down swinging.

“All right, where are we?” Shad asked after the serving girl had brought them breakfast. “It has been two days-I need at least two more to get my charms up to snuff. Four would be better.”

“Me and Fred have been partying like real bravos,” Jeff grinned. “Along the way we commissioned a dozen Black Talon insignia.”

“Hide in plain sight,” the big barbarian nodded. “With extras like we’re looking for more hands.”

“Plus we saw the Wraiths,” Jeff kept his voice low. “Across-the-room sort of thing. There’s five, looks like two warriors, a stealth-type, and two spell-slingers. Flash gear, no idea on levels. They’re relaxing pretty good while they eyeball every bravo in sight.”

“At level three we’re not trying our luck, but it’s good to know where they are,” Shad said thoughtfully.

“I had a scabbard made for Blackwand, my new sword, and we picked up a lot of odds and ends on culture, local lore, the bravo way of life, stuff like that. I got a coat of plates, and Fred ordered a set of split armor, looks like a Roman cuirass but he’s ten Marks short, even with a loan from me. Can the group front the rest?”

“We’re doing OK,” Derek nodded. “Ten for the armor and five more for pocket money.”

“I bought a new shield and a coat of plates, got the edge restored on my weapons,” Shad tossed a well-gnawed bone from a pork chop on the table. “That and some more clothes pretty much sorted out my money for me. I’ve been focused on charms since.”

“I turned in the staff at the Fist,” Derek said smugly. “Met the Baron himself. Even though the fight was outside his realm he gave us the honor of displaying a silver Fist on our insignia, and granted me access to the Royal Archives.”

“No money,” Fred shook his head.

“Hey, it was a good deal,” Derek protested. “We get more credibility, and I spent a day and a half reading. Another couple of days and I bet I can earn an extra point or two.”

“Screw it, for the moment money’s not our most pressing problem,” Shad shrugged. “We need to up our capabilities, and the more we know the better our chances. You get anything specific?”

Derek glanced around before replying. “Yeah. I know where three of the five intruders are at. One south, two west, plus the Ultimate Master. And it gave me an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Leave. Head west or south. The further we go the harder it will be for locals to catch us out. We’re steadily blending in, and we’ve done all we can to the Ultimate Master until we get to a lot higher level.”

“The Wraiths do have a bead on us,” Jeff agreed. “In a new area the local hunters wouldn’t have that advantage.”

“I wonder if every group they’ve sent in is made up of four people?” Fred wondered aloud.

“I hope not,” Shad said with heartfelt conviction. “Derek, rent the rooms for three more days, on top of the three we have left. We’ll leave on the fifth day to keep any watchers guessing.”

“We going to go south or west?” Jeff asked.

“We’ll decide once we’re out of town. Derek, make sure we’re provisioned. Has anyone been checking on Ula?”

Two days’ march south of the Fist the Black Talons were arguing about which episode of
Firefly
properly defined Jayne’s character

“The key thing about Jayne is that...” Jeff grabbed his left forearm and hugged it to his stomach, hissing with pain, as the other three likewise staggered in shock and pain.

After an agonizing minute had passed Shad relaxed slightly and ripped at the lacings on his left cuff. The forearm he exposed had four black-inked tattoos and one white-etched scar the size of a nickel near the wrist. “
Damn,
that hurt. I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“What the hell?” Fred brushed away the flakes of burnt blue ink and examined the scar that now marked his arm.

“The Ultimate Master,” Derek dragged himself to his feet. “Somebody got him.”

“So it works, the spell-tattoos,” Jeff observed. “We’re twenty per cent of the way back home.”

“Yeah,” Shad refastened the sleeve of his coat of plates. “Closer. I wonder if our idea was involved in the untimely demise?”

“Gunpowder,” Derek announced at dawn, waking the others.

“Why the hell are we up?” Shad demanded.

“The Ultimate Master was taken out by gunpowder.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be on watch?”

“I dozed off. The point is, our idea worked.”

“The point is that
you were on watch
.” Shad kicked off his blankets disgustedly.

“You’re saying it worked because we leveled up,” Jeff asked, fumbling around for his shirt.

“Why else? We haven’t pulled any real points since the Undead,” Derek grinned.

“I thought you said that we were probably drawing points every day we stayed alive,” Jeff countered.

“We’re trying for fourth level-we had plenty of XP to fill. Only a big kill would have jumped us so quickly.”

“The next time you sleep on watch I’m going to kick your ass,” Shad snarled, refusing to be diverted.

“OK, what’s the news?” Derek asked after everyone had sat down to a breakfast of oatmeal and hardtack.

“I can Bear power twice a day,” Fred announced. “Otherwise, I stuck with outdoor skills.”

“I took a level in Sword master, so I can use Blackwand now,” Jeff patted the stone blade at his hip. “I took Etiquette and Haggle.”

“More power, can start drawing on second level spells,” Derek reported. “I took two levels in Armor Repair so I can fix our armor between fights, basic repairs, anyway. I bought tools and materials before we left the Fist. Thanks to all my reading back at the First, I got an extra point when I took Creature Lore.”

“I can do Runes now, which are buffs drawn directly onto the recipient,” Shad said as he cleaned his mess kit with sand. “The key is preparation of the ink used. I took Apothecary last level, and this level I took Calligraphy and Harvest. I already picked up the tools I need and some basic components.”

“What is Harvest?” Jeff asked.

“Knowing what to collect and how to collect it from things we kill or come across to make better Rune-ink and charms. I couldn’t use it before level four even if I knew it. Oh, and I have a charm for curing disease, so if anyone gets the clap we’re covered.”