Unwelcome Assignment

[McIan]

The wraith slipped undetected into the upper-story bedroom at Alderia’s Oasis, having procured the backup key to its locked door. It hovered just inside, preparing to awaken the two sleepers within.

A young woman in bed awoke suddenly and sat up. “Who is that?!” she blurted out loudly, spotting the intruder.

The noise stirred a man sleeping beside her and he rolled over, blinking. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered. “You’re dreaming.”

The lady pointed at the wraith which had not moved. “That’s no dream, Torak! I’m getting out of here!” she cried, as she arose and began clothing herself rapidly. “Another of your weird friends?”

Torak sat up and saw what she had seen. His eyes widened in shock.

“Get her out of here,” the wraith declared in a loud hissing whisper.

“Wha… who…?”

“I will not repeat myself,” warned the wraith.

Torak waved his right arm as if shooing the woman away. Having dressed at least modestly, she hurried to the door as the wraith stepped aside to let her pass. As she departed she sent an angry rejoinder, “Don’t talk to me again, Torak! I won’t be treated like this!” She slammed the door behind her.

“Insolent wench,” he muttered. “Who cares?”

“The master has need of you. Come at once. No delay.” The wraith commanded before exiting.

Torak sighed. What now?

* * *​

“You want me to go where milord?” Torak inquired, wishing he had not heard what he had just heard. He had met with Damian at the castle great hall.

“Your hearing is impaired? Must I repeat myself? If so, it comes with a price,” Damian stated.

Torak extended his hand and shook his head. “No, sire… it’s just… well, she… she… has it in for me. I am sure she will kill me. See… I did not tell her your son was a werewolf and, well, he raked her pretty good.”

Damian nodded. “I know all of this. You told me before. She won’t kill you. Just think of it as getting a most distasteful ordeal over with. We all have that to do occasionally.”

“Milord, why not send Galbin?! He’s one of her crew. She seems to accept him. He can…”

“Torak. I need not explain myself to you. I give you a few days to prepare yourself for… whatever she has in store for you… but you must go yourself. I will send a note along with you. You will give it to her before the event if possible.”

“The event milord?”

“Yes, the merciless beating she will doubtlessly inflict upon you. Fortunately I will inscribe it in such a way that your coherence in reading it to her will not be a factor in its accurate transmission.”

Torak was no coward. In fact, he could be very brave at times, but at this moment he fought off the urge to swoon. Between the language his master used, and his piercing, threatening, gaze, he realized further argument was not only useless but would be painful. He nodded slowly. “As you wish sire,” he agreed. “I will await your word.”

“Yes, but not here. Go back to the Inn and stay, or find solace elsewhere. If my queen finds you here, well, you will get an early taste of what is to come… or maybe a last,” Damian taunted. “Return in two days to me. All will be ready.”

 

[McIan]

Facing the Music

Before sending him on his way to meet the pirate woman, Damian gave Torak a sealed scroll. “See that she gets it,” he commanded. You know what to tell her after that,” he said.

His head bowed dejectedly, Torak pleaded. “Is this necessary, milord? She might kill me.”

Damian chuckled. “It IS necessary, and she will not. Stop whining. It is not the first beating you have taken, nor will it be the last, I assure you. When you are finished there, return to me because I have another duty for you.”

“What if I am incapacitated?”

“When you wake up then. Drag yourself here if you must, but meet me back before nightfall.”

* * *​

Hastily imbibing some strong liquor, necessary to steel his nerves and offset the pain, Torak entered the room where Suka, the mad pirate, was sitting. She looked up at him and smiled. He moved toward her, extending the scroll to her. “Greetings milady. It is good to see you again after so long a time. You are as beautiful as ever. I have a missive for you from another of my superiors, Damian Racsen.”

She nodded and rose from her seat, strolling toward him slowly, like a cat ready to spring. Torak braced himself and closed his eyes.

She must have been wearing studded gloves, for when she swung and struck his face he saw celestial bodies, stars and suns, that did not exist. The first hit rattled him, but the second, third, fourth and fifth laid him out on the floor, groaning and bleeding, semi-conscious. Then came the kicks to his ribs and thighs. He blacked out.

When he opened his nearly-shut puffed eyes, she was sitting back in her chair, tapping her fingers on its arm, just looking at him.

“When I’m given a job… DETAILS ARE NECESSARY!!” she screamed. Then she picked up the scroll off the floor, unsealed it, and began reading:

“Queen Suka,

For some time I have been following your activities on land and on the high seas. I call you queen because you deserve the highest title available being at the very top of the list of pirates, and at the same time at the top of lists of those who would love to bring you low, to their level.

My name is Damian Racsen. I, too, exist to bring down all those who align themselves with Order, especially that of this realm, not for political ends but for personal gain and profit.

It is for this reason that I send to you my servant, Torak. I know you want to punish him for a misadventure he led you into by not telling you all you needed to know. Do with him as you will, but please do not terminate his life. He has many uses for me and can have for you.

He has a message for you from me. I do not wish it conveyed in writing lest it fall into the wrong hands. Consider it if you will. If you elect not to participate, no harm done; perhaps another time we may join forces to achieve our aims and ends.

I could have sent Galbin, the dwarf sailor, for he sometimes visits my castle and has done my bidding also. Yet I wanted to extend the hand of alliance so that we may work together at times to extinguish the Light bearers who would destroy us. Sending Torak to you should prove the sincerity of my words. Then, by your grace, return what remains of him to me as soon as possible.

My best regards,

Damian Racsen
Lord of Dominion.”


Torak watched as she completed the reading. “Give me a moment… and I will tell you the… rest,” he muttered.

 

[McIan]

Urgent Meeting

Scar took a long look at Torak’s blue-black eyes and puffy lips, and winced. “I do hope you are going to say, “You ought to see the other guy!’” he teased.

“Ever the jester, aren’t we? No, I fell down some stairs today,” Torak lied.

“You fell down them, or they fell on you?” Scar grinned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. So what’s the reason you sent for me to meet you here? What’s so important?”

They sat down at a table outside the Inn in Papua. Torak had already bought them a brace of ales in preparation which stood unopened at the table. Although in agonizing pain, he had been sent to do this by one he dared not defy. Scar opened one of the ales and took a swig. “Well? Make it quick. I have to get a nap as tonight is my patrol here. You know, they got one of the beasts, but the other is still at large. Gah!” he exclaimed, setting the bottle down and pushing it away, “that’s warm, and stale.”

“As is everything here, idiot. It’s jungle, remember?”

Scar sighed. “Look, as much as I enjoy our little barb fests, I really don’t have time for this.”

“Then I’ll get to the point… you must not go on patrol tonight.”

“Oh?” Scar’s eyes lit up. “And why not?”

“Demi. She is in danger. You have to stay with her tonight.”

Scar leaned forward, scowling. “Explain!”

Torak nodded. “I have another feeling. Something is after her; I don’t know what. All I know is that we are still linked somehow and when I get these feelings, something bad happens.”

“Who is behind this?!”

“I don’t know the ‘who’ of it; I just know that if she is not watched closely tonight, and guarded at all times, we may lose her. I only assumed you would want to stay with her to guard her, even at the cost of your patrol.”

As usual, when he was deep in thought, Scar stroked his goatee slowly with thumb and two fingers staring at the table. “We think the other beast will be out hunting tonight. It may be searching for its mate. But there’s no one I… Wait! There may be someone!” He looked up. “Thank you for the warning.”

“You owe me for the ales.”

Scar rose to leave. “Put it on my bill.”

* * *​

Neither Itannar nor Vospar could fill in for him as he had hoped. Itannar had his own patrols and he was busy trying to solve more strange deaths in Yew. Vospar had departed for parts unknown as he continued the search for his missing brother, Magnus. There was no one else he felt able to impose upon. He finally took a parchment and wrote a note to his Thane, and friend, Chanticleer.

“My Lord Chanticleer,

Greetings! I pray you are in good spirits, hale and healthy. I have a favor to ask you. While I know we usually gather at a tavern on such nights, and we may be there late if possible, my lady Deminatza is in some kind of danger and I dare not leave her side for one moment. Should we attend the tavern, we must leave together and remain so. I say that to ask this: It was my duty to patrol Papua tonight. I cannot do that now. I have tried but found no one else to do this. Would you and any others of the Fist do this for me? Papua is being terrorized by one of the beasts that attacked Delucia. There were two of them; now there is but one. The citizens are armed and ready, but they are not professional warriors. These beasts are strong and fierce and seem to be able to absorb much damage before dying. The thing will be no match for the Fist should it appear. Will you do this for me? If not, I understand. It is a routine and likely boring task. Thank you for considering it.

Your loyal servant,

Scar.”

He attached the sealed letter to his pet raven and sent it on its way.

 

[McIan]

As Fate Would Have It

The wolf was confused. It had entered Papua looking for prey but found only warriors standing near the bank. It attacked one but then saw others coming to aid her. They gave chase. Fortunately for it, they remained unmounted as the rains had turned the ground into a sticky morass. Spells struck the beast, injuring it and it howled in pain. This was not what it expected. There were no villagers outside; no fresh meat, so it fled, wounded and bleeding to the east and north, out of town.

Suddenly a small group of warriors came out of hiding. Thinking itself trapped, the wolf decided to fight back, but then noticed the newcomers were not after it, but after the other warriors. A battle ensued between them. Thinking there might be a meal out of this, the wolf counterattacked, but then its instincts took over and it ran away back into the safety of the jungle, to nurse its wounds.

* * *​

Korbin, ever alert and preparing food for supper, heard the sounds of battle from a distance. He was not terribly skilled in combat but knew a few magic spells. He dropped the frying pan and wiped his hands, running outside toward the sound. From what he saw along the way, most other villagers kept indoors, peering out the windows of buildings, following orders to remain inside and out of danger.

When he arrived on the scene there were wounded warriors lying about. What stole his attention was a huge blue hulking creature, but also a black-robed figure who was speaking to the wounded ones insultingly. He listened for awhile and looked to see if he could help, thinking they all had been on patrol and had attacked, or were attacked by, the wolf. Yet after a while, he figured out there were two groups who had fought it out.

He was asked who he was and after he had spoken, the dark-robed figure, a female, ordered the hulking creature to seize him and take him away. Korbin tried to cast a fireball at the beast but it was too late; it grabbed him in its powerful grasp and tucked him under its arm, gripping him tightly about the stomach. His protests went unheard and the group proceeded to depart, leaving only the wounded enemy warriors behind.

* * *​

Scar and Demi arrived home late from the tavern where they had met and talked with both James and Xuri about politics. Scar had been vigilant all night after Torak had warned him to keep watch over her. He had to keep up appearances, however, and as they tried to visit taverns together at least once a week by habit, he did not wish to disappoint her. Besides, it was “their” night and he looked forward to it every week. They spoke for awhile and then called it a night.

* * *​

Early the next day, a courier arrived to deliver a finely decorated gift box. The courier seemed nervous as he gave it to Scar who had answered the door. Thanking and paying him, Scar took the box and went to the living room to sit down and open it. His eyes went first to the note attached to the box:

“Dearest wolf boy. The beautiful scars you left in my chest are still burning. I may have a small taste for rare meat these days. All in all, doing well. Here’s a piece of your friend in case you miss him. Lots of love!

Signed (beautifully written),

Her Highness Suka, the Pirate Queen”

Dropping the note, Scar looked upon the contents. Lying on a red velvet pillow was a stretch of flesh, bearing a tattoo that he immediately recognized.

“Korbin!!!”

 

[McIan]

Reporting In

“Ah, Malikai. Good to see you, and uninjured at that. What have you to tell me?” Damian inquired of his servant of many forms.

“Greetings milord. I come from Papua. Your plan succeeded. I am certain your son feels alienated from his cohorts in the Fist; he was not able to be with them during the battle. He will no doubt feel shame and they may even blame him for the affair – his skills with a blade may have helped alter the battle in their favor as they were outnumbered.”

Damian smiled. “So the pirate queen did her part. Excellent! My son feels betrayed and fooled. His personal honor has been stained. His overdeveloped sense of responsibility and pride will assist in the degradation of his morale. This is good.”

“May it be so, milord,” Malikai agreed. “There was an additional benefit. His friend, Korbin, the Papuan cook, was taken hostage by the pirates. Scar now has double loss and must deal with that situation as well.”

“Perfect! I am sure she may wish an exchange and he would do it no doubt.”

“Yes milord, but what if he does change places? Won’t she torture and kill him?”

Damian’s confident expression did not alter in the least. “That is a risk, obviously. Yet remember, I tried to kill him once before myself, and failed. I am not sure, in his condition, that death would come easily even with the proper tools. Nonetheless, if it happens, it happens. If I know the pirate queen, she will likely prefer the ongoing thrill of knowing his pain over the fate of his friend. Yet if not, I may ransom him from her. Do not concern yourself with this.”

Malikai bowed his head affirmatively.

“Was the wolf slain?”

“No corpse was found, sire. Tracks led off into the jungle. There was some blood but it was not enough to come from a fatal wound. My best guess is that it still lives.”

“Take Tobey with you. He is a trainer. Find the wolf. Heal it if you can. Do not capture it. Let it run free. Have Tobey remain in Papua to observe things and heal it as necessary. He may even seek to sabotage their defensive works but only if he is absolutely certain of success; he must not be captured!”

“As you wish milord.”

“Now, send in Torak. I wish to speak to him. You may go.”

Malikai bowed and exited.

* * *​

Torak, still bruised from the beating Suka gave him, entered the great hall. Any walking made him wince in pain. He was not entirely sure his hip was not fractured. “Greetings milord. You asked for me?”

“I see you survived. I am pleased. I will send you a cache of healing potions… my compliments.”

Torak nodded, feigning gratitude. “All for the cause, sire,” he remarked, forcing a smile.

“Tell me how my son reacted when you told him of the danger to his wife? Does he still believe it?”

“He was worried. I understand he went with her to a tavern but they did not stay long there. He did remain at Sanctuary all night.”

Damian nodded approvingly. “Listen. He will blame you. He will think you lied to him to keep him out of the fight. You must not evade him if he wants to talk to you. He must believe your intentions were honest. Convince him they were. No matter what he says or does, you MUST maintain your innocence.”

“He is a violent man when crossed, sire. What if he decides to beat me? I don’t think I could stand another just yet.”

Damian laughed. “Fool! Your condition will be your salvation. Tell him plainly: would I lie to you knowing you would give me another beating? His sense of compassion will save you that. I will wager it.”

Torak’s lip quivered from fear and dread. “But… what if… what if it doesn’t?”

Damian leaned forward, glaring at him. “Then you take it, doing as I say! Besides, if you confess what you did, it is a surety that he will beat you and perhaps kill you.” He leaned back in his chair. “And if he does not kill you, I will send you another round of potions… my compliments,” he said, grinning maliciously.

 

[McIan]

A Likely Story

He was coming. He was angry. Torak knew that much. He sat at a table at the Inn in Papua and rotated his mug of ale slowly using thumb and middle finger, staring at it as if it would provide any relief for his dilemma. He was still smarting from his injuries from the pirate queen and he knew what might lay in store for him – more pain. He sighed and looked around, wondering if it might be better just to flee and disappear as he had done before.

Too late! His nemesis approached the Inn. Seeing him, Scar increased his stride. The glare in his eyes alone could kill. It did not help his composure to see Scar’s right hand resting on the hilt of that nasty poisoned dagger of his.

He forced a smile and raised the mug of ale as if to salute an old friend.

When Scar got close enough, he slapped it away, splashing ale all over the walls and in one swift motion grabbed him by the collar to drag him up, out of the chair, to within inches of his gritting teeth and murderous eyes. “Give me one good reason why I should not gut you right here and now??!!” he bellowed. “Eh?!!”

Torak’s breathing became deep, but he felt hopeful… Scar’s dagger remained sheathed. He did not have to fake a wince of agony. “Please… let me go. I came here in good faith!”

Scar slowly relaxed his grip and then pushed him back into the chair, placing his hands on his hips. His own breathing was deep but measured. “So you did! You are either out of your mind or innocent. I am certain it is the former. Talk… fast!”

“Might you calm yourself and sit down?” Torak extended his hand toward the chair across from him in a gesture of friendship.

Scar sat down. “I’m waiting!”

“What do you want to know?”

“No games, Torak! I am NOT in the mood!”

“Honestly, I do not know why you called me here. What are you so angry about?”

Scar looked into his eyes. Torak, a master of his emotions and expressions, did a superb job of appearing clueless.

“Nothing happened with Deminatza the night you told me to stay home with her. Instead, my friends in the Fist were ambushed by that pirate lunatic-hag and her cronies. It was a setup. You engineered it, first by keeping me out of it, then by knowing I would send for a patrol replacement. The only missing part is WHY you did it… but I have my ideas.”

Torak shook his head. “No, no, no… you are all wrong here. I told you – I had a feeling she was in danger. The rest of it is pure mischance, I swear it! How could anyone devise something like that? Consider the particulars: you had to believe me; you had to stay home, or close to it; you had to draw in the Fist, or whoever they are; they had to agree; the pirate hag and her slaves had to be positioned; the wolf had to lead them along…”

“I didn’t say anything about a wolf. You just slipped up.”

Laughing, Torak replied, “Everyone knows about the wolf attack that night! It’s all over town! It seems someone left bits of meat, like a trail, to the bank. Word has it that it attacked one of them and they chased it down a path. It was pure coincidence it was the ambush spot.”

“Well, in any event, Deminatza wants to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told her about that “connection” babble you said you have with her and she denies it. She wants to discuss it with you. Send word and we will all meet here.” Scar rose to leave but before he did, he leaned over the table, his arms resting on it. “One last thing. If I EVER find out you were behind this, I will finish what I came here to do today… by all the gods… I will!”

Torak’s expression remained passive. “And I would not blame you my friend.”

Scar stalked away. Torak breathed a sigh of relief. This life was getting complicated and he was tired of being caught between his master and his son. If he could only talk Demi into leaving with him…