The Exile's Path Ch. 06

"Oh no," laughed the elf. "The collar stays on unless you know a mage significantly more powerful than I am."

"But darling!" whined Tomas to his sister, pouring himself a drink. "I thought we were going to use the boy as our alibi! Father slain by the manwhore he had hired and all that!"

The lordling leaned over the back of one of the dining chairs and examined the corpse of his father upon it. His sister came to stand beside him.

"Oh, the plan changed a little, brother-dearest," said Emily, sweetly. "No-one would believe that contrived tale!"

A strange look crossed Tomas' features as he gazed at the body before him. "Is... Is that my dagger?" muttered the young noble, putting his drink down and examining the body more closely. "Maerin, why did you use my dagger?"

Beside him, Emily put her hand on her brother's shoulder, turning him to face her. "It was a ridiculous plan, Tomas. Nobody would believe a mere whore killed father," said the woman. "But father and son, killed by one another's hand in a heated argument?"

Tomas' face drained of colour as the dagger punched into his gut. Emily stepped back as her brother fell to his knees, gazing up at his sister, his murderer, in disbelief.

"Now that is a story people will believe," smiled Emily, looking down at her handiwork. "Alright Maerin, you should probably magic these two over to father's quarters now." The noblewoman idly looked at the blood staining her fingers and continued, almost as an afterthought; "I think I'll take a trip down to the baths. Don't forget to kill the girl in the cells once you've finished up here."

Turning her back on her brother, who, thanks to the nature of his wound, was taking some time to expire, the Lady Emily calmly walked out of the room. As she departed, Maerin's hulking familiar stalked over to the dying Tomas, seizing him about the neck and hefting him upright. The elven mage came to stand nearby, leaning over the table to place a hand on the duke's body. Then, with a slight furrowing of his brow, the mage and his familiar vanished, taking Tomas and the Duke with them and leaving the room empty.

When Lady Emily emerged from her apartment on her own, Reld was both confused and relieved. The fact that Lord Tomas and the elf were not with her was worrisome, yet the noblewoman appeared calm and relaxed, not like someone who had just discovered three thieves hiding in her personal chambers. As the aristocratic woman walked away down the corridor, Reld peeked back through the doors, but the view was too constricted to see anything. The lad shrugged and went back to standing guard, waiting for some sort of sign from his friends inside.

Jessemyn was in shock. After the mage and his demon had vanished, she had rushed down the stairs to where her brother had been. Instead of her brother, though, she was greeted by the biggest dog she had ever seen, groggily picking itself up off the floor.

"Giles?" she spoke, her words heavy with concern.

The big canine looked at Jessemyn, a blend of recognition and panic in its eyes.

Jessemyn fumbled with the buckles of the creature's muzzle. Beside her, Fiona began to object, clearly worried about the dog's massive jaws and immense teeth, but Tula quietened her with a hand on her shoulder. The moment his mouth was free, the dog let out a scared yelp, followed by a plaintive whine.

"Oh gods, Giles," moaned Jessemyn, throwing her arms around the huge beast's neck and tugging futilely at the metal collar. "We'll fix it! I'll get this thing off you!"

The big dog whined once more and tugged against his sister's pulling, but the collar was clearly not coming off. Eventually, the girl gave up and simply hugged the dog that had been her brother. Tula knelt beside the unhappy pair, resting a hand on the blonde girl's back and on Giles' black-furred flank.

"I hate to do this," announced Fiona, interrupting the forlorn group, the silver cube in her hands, "but it's time to get the fuck out of here. I have a feeling there's goin' to be a lot of guards runnin' round the the hallways very soon."

When the three women emerged from Lady Emily's rooms accompanied by a massive dog, Reld was stunned. Tula took in the lad's astonished expression in one quick glance and quickly explained the situation.

"Fiona has the cube, Emily murdered her father and brother, the dog is Giles and we need to leave. Now."

"Well, I see I managed to miss pretty much everything exciting," grumbled Reld as the party hightailed it down the corridor, back towards the stairs.

"Don't worry lad," huffed Fiona, jogging beside him. "I have a feeling things are going to get pretty fuckin' exciting pretty fuckin' quickly."

"They will probably discover the bodies in the morning," said Tula, before turning to look at Jessemyn. "Although that elf may discover your absence much sooner."

"I don't mind if he finds me," snarled the blonde wench. "Maybe he can tell us how to fix Giles before I slice his nuts off."

"We shall figure this out," soothed Tula, "but we should get out of the city first. The Lady will send out people to find you and your brother."

The soldier guarding the top of the stairs didn't have a chance to raise the alarm. Once again, Tula's devastating punch collided with an unsuspecting soldier's jaw and the party were racing down the steps moments after Reld had lowered the unconscious trooper to the floor.

Once down in the old dungeons, the party slowed their pace, although Fiona did not waste any time mixing up her glowing concoction to provide light and instead grabbed one of the torches from their brackets. Reld was pleased to have the dwarf leading the way - he was sure he never would have found the correct path in the maze of dilapidated cellars and crumbling cells. Fiona never hesitated when she came to a junction, however, until she got to the one that led to the cell Jess had been imprisoned in. Halting abruptly, the dwarf suddenly smothered her torch in her cloak, singeing the garment badly.

"Fi? What's going on?" whispered Reld, surprised at the sudden stop.

"There's someone her-"

The dwarf's words were interrupted by a bright white light as Maerin stepped around the corner, an orb glowing white in his hand. Looming behind him, cast in dreadful shadows, was his female beastman companion. The elven mage quickly recognized Giles' and Jessemyn's presence within the small party - it was hard to miss the bard's giant canine form.

"Excellent," smiled the mage. "I was just looking for you."

And then he vanished, casting the hallway into darkness and leaving his brutish familiar standing in front of Reld and Fiona.

Reld didn't hesitate. One of the key tenets of combat that Tula had drilled into him was that if you have to fight, then try to be the one to land the first blow. The bestial demon in front of him appeared to be unarmed, but the lad didn't let that stop him - in one smooth movement, just as he had been taught, Reld drew his sword and slashed at the creature while stepping towards it.

Months of hard practice and years of demanding physical labor had turned Reld into a strong lad, in good shape. Even against an armoured foe, the slash would have been a difficult one to resist. The naked beastman didn't even flinch. Strange sparks cascaded from where the lad's slash slid across the demon's chest. The creature bellowed and a shimmering white glow appeared above her hands, which were spread wide and low in the 'ready' position for someone planning to tackle another, and a wicked looking battle axe appeared in each gargantuan fist. Reld launched himself backwards as the demon swung the weapons at him, as if trying to give him a murderous hug, and tumbled backwards into Jessemyn.

It was pitch-black in the dungeon, but dwarves and orcs were comfortable fighting in the dark. The moment the elf's magic light disappeared, Fiona tucked and rolled sideways into the open cell that had been to her left, dragging her equipment bag with her. Further back, Tula's dagger was out of her boot and in her hand lightning quick, and her keen ears picked out the sound of Reld's attack, pinpointing the location of the melee at the front of the party.

There was one other in the party, too, who didn't need sight to perceive what was happening around them - Giles suddenly discovered he could almost hear the shape of the others in front of him. There was Reld's foot sliding forward and the rasp of his sword flying from its scabbard. There was the grating report of his blade hitting the demon. The brief glow of the beastman's axes materializing confirmed the positions of the combatants his hearing had predicted. It also lit up Tula's body, just for a moment, as she launched herself through the air, dagger in hand, directly towards the demon.

Jessemyn fell backwards as Reld backed into her, bringing the two of them down to the ground with a painful thump. She couldn't see a thing. All she knew was that there was a monster in front of her. She felt Reld try to roll aside, but her own instinctive need to scramble away from the threat hampered both of their efforts as she grabbed onto the lad atop her and tried to push herself back out from under him.

The beastman wasn't blessed with overly sharp hearing, nor particularly astute night sight. What she did have, however, was tremendous strength, an axe in each hand, and the knowledge that the hallway in front of her was a target rich environment. With a bray of violent delight, she lurched forward.

Her forward momentum ceased, however, when Tula's left arm clotheslined her across the chest. The impact was followed immediately afterwards by a sharp pain in her ribs as the orc began furiously shanking her with terrible, angry thrusts of her dagger. The beastman's magical nature prevented the dagger from plunging too deeply into her, but such was Tula's strength and ferocity that the orc was scoring numerous shallow wounds and the pain began to tell.

Further back, Giles was frozen, overcome by the assault upon his senses. Standing there, confused, he suddenly heard Fiona's voice in front of him.

"Move."

The boy-turned-dog stumbled to the side. There was a *thunk* in the darkness, coming from the same direction as Fiona's voice. A cluster of... somethings whooshed past his shoulder, startlingly fast, and he heard a clatter of many steel objects impacting stone wall of the passage behind him. He also heard the meaty sound of flesh being hit, coming from the same direction, and grunt of pain.

The scent of blood reached his nose. Strange blood, not belonging to any of his comrades. His nose and ears told him the elven mage was behind him, in the direction Fiona had just shot her weapon. He turned, just as Maerin relit the glowing orb. Instinct took over, and Giles bounded towards the pale man.

Maerin swore. Somehow, someone in the irksome little party had shot at him in the darkness and managed to hit him in the arm. He cast a light cantrip upon the steel ball he used as a focus, holding it in his left hand while conjuring a hand crossbow into his right. The light illuminated a small steel dart that had lodged itself in his left bicep. There were many more of the darts on the ground beside the wall behind him. The mage didn't have time to analyse the strange projectiles, however. He had a plan - if he tossed the ball down the corridor, he would illuminate his targets perfectly. While Tlakk, his familiar, tore her way through the pathetic band, he could stand back and unload his supply of pre-loaded crossbows into them. That would teach them.

The wizard's plan changed quickly, however, when the light of his cantrip shone upon the snarling, oversized canine bearing down on him. Maerin raised his crossbow and fired wildly, just as Giles smashed into him, jaws latching onto the mage's hurriedly raised arm.

And then the mage and his familiar were gone, and Fiona, Tula, Reld, Jess and Giles stood or lay panting in the darkness. There was a moment of heavy breathing, then Fiona got her glowing mixture going again and each member of the party scanned one another, checking to see if anyone was injured, or worse.

"We got lucky," said Fiona, packing up her crossbow. "I think he was just as surprised as we were."

Reld kneeled near Tula. The orc had received a slash across her thigh from the flailing demon she had tackled and the lad was tying a strip of cloth he had torn off her dress over the wound. The greenskin's tight garment had torn in more than a few places during her wrestling match and Tula was surprised at how disappointed she was to see it in such a state.

Tula's minor injury was thankfully the worst the group suffered - the quarrel Maerin had shot at Giles had gone wide, grazing the dog's shoulder and drawing only a little blood. Giles found himself entirely unbothered by it, despite knowing that a similar injury, if he had received it before he had been turned into a dog, would have left him in a near hysterical state. Nevertheless, he did like the way Jessemyn fussed over the injury, although he was frustrated at his his inability to say thanks but for a quiet woof.

Once Tula's injured thigh was bound, the group resumed their journey to the sewer exit. They did not have far to go, but they moved warily, expecting the mage and his demonic familiar to ambush them at any moment. Maerin did not return, fortunately, but it was an anxious, tired party that finally reached the courtyard behind the inn.

"Well, here we are," sighed Fiona. The dwarf turned to look at Jessemyn and Giles. "I'd recommend you two get out of town as quick as possible. The Lady Emily doesn't seem to be the sort who'll forget about you."

Jessamyn looked confused and frightened. Giles looked... well, like a giant dog, but he cocked his head to one side and let out a worried whine.

"What?" grumbled Fiona. "You can't come with me! Go get your kit, lass, and go! North, south, east, west, it doesn't matter! Besides, having that great galumph of a dog with you will keep you safe enough - I don't know many who'd want to mess with a beastie like that."

"Why can't we bring them with us, Fi?" said Reld quietly.

Fiona ignored the youth and continued to mutter under her breath.

"We will bring them with us, Fiona," stated Tula.

"Yeah? And who's goin' to keep 'em safe?" huffed the dwarf. "It's not a kind world out there - plenty of rough types who'll take your money and your life if you give 'em half a chance."

"Please, Fiona," said Jessemyn. "It's a rough enough life here - I should know, I'm a tavern wench. Besides, you yourself said Giles looks fierce enough now to keep the worst away. We won't be any trouble - we might even be useful! Please let us go with you while I look for some way to help Giles!"

"Bah!" spat the dwarf pacing back and forth for some time before throwing her hands up in disgust. "Fine! Come along then! But we're leavin' now, so you've only got a minute to say your farewells to your folks!"

Victoria and Danton came out say bid the strange group goodbye. Jessemyn and Tula had explained the situation as best they could to the couple and had watched the parents go from denial to grieving acceptance over their children's predicament. Victoria had broken down in tears when Giles had responded to her words of shock and disbelief with a pitiful wuffle.

Tula, however, had assured the pair that she would help Jessemyn find a cure for her brother, and the amazonian orc's quiet confidence lent the innkeeping couple some strength. So it was that Jessemyn was given a pack stuffed with all her parents could spare; money, clothes and food. Finally, Danton handed his daughter a stout wooden cudgel - the very one that dwelled beneath the bar and had brought a swift end to many a common-room fracas. With a fierce embrace, the couple bade their children farewell.

Reld and Jessemyn sat in the back of the wagon, with Giles trotting easily behind them, as the party departed Bal's Post, heading south. The youth could tell the blonde girl beside him was in some distress and his heart ached for her even though part of him was filled with burning excitement at the potential adventures that lay like the moonlit road ahead of the wagon.

The lad didn't really know Jessemyn all that well - he'd seen her in the tavern, of course, maybe even given her bottom a squeeze when he was deep in his cups - but now they were travelling companions, thrown together by circumstance and the orc Tula. He tentatively patted the girl's back.

"She's not really mad," said Reld.

"Huh?" said Jessemyn.

"Fiona," replied the boy, jerking his head towards the front of the wagon where the dwarf sat beside Tula. "She's not really mad. I think she wants to help you, she just doesn't like it when a plan goes all wonky. Something about being a blacksmith, or maybe a dwarf."

"What about Tula?" said Jessemyn. "She's your... I don't know, wife? Girlfriend? Did she mean what she said about helping me and Giles?"

"Ha! Me and Tula are... Yeah, I guess it is kind of weird," nodded Reld. "She's my chief, I suppose, and if there's one thing I know about her, it's that if she says that she's going to do something, she bloody well gets it done."

"Your chief?"

"Yep," said Reld, smiling proudly. "I'd do anything for her and if she says we're helping you and Giles, then we'll fucking do it!"

"You're a funny boy, Reld," said Jessemyn, her sad frown turning into a wan smile. "How did you end up calling an orc your chief?"

"It's a weird tale," chuckled Reld. "It might take some telling."

"Well, I hear it's a long way to Tennegen and on to Longreach. I think there might be time."

"Well, if you want," he sighed, leaning back on his hands and watching the lights of Bal's Post fade. "It might get a little raunchy in parts, though."

"Boy, you do know until about an hour ago I worked as a whore in a dockside tavern, right?" snorted Jess. "I could write a whole book about 'raunchy'."

The wagon trundled onward into the southern night, chased by the sound of Reld's laughter.