Born a Monster

Chapter 113



Chapter 113: Servant of the Axe, 13 – Was That Diplomacy?

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 13

Was That Diplomacy?

Boadicea’s Girdle was built on two levels. The docks and industries were at harbor level, and up atop a cliffside, served by a system of pulley-and-winch elevators, was the residential and commercial area. (And, I discovered later, a hidden valley of farms, ranches, and orchards.)

There was no sign of the structures or people of Mongo’s Bowl.

Oh, and the temple of Xistos the Executed God predominated the skyline, eyes of their crucified lord turned up to heaven where he couldn’t possibly see his followers.

“That’s just creepy.” I said to Kismet.

.....

“I kinda like the idea of a god who forgives his followers for executing him.” She replied.

“Oh. I forgot to ask, Narces. Do you and Gamilla have things to pick up from your quarters before we ascend?”

“Off to the right. Once we heard your ship was in the area, we packed up.”

“We were most distressed to hear that you were going about doing heroics.” Gamilla added.

“Heroics!” I scoffed. “Kismet and I have been into spider nests before. A few stray spiders at the edge of their hunting grounds weren’t going to be any manner of challenge.”

“Even on boar hunts,” Narces reminded me, “people sometimes die.”

“And it is usually when they say such things like, it is no challenge.” Gamilla said.

“No.” I said, “It’s usually when they start thinking that it’s no challenge that they get sloppy.”

I wanted to tell them that I was stronger than at any other point in my life. The Truthspeaker Oath locks down my vocal cords at times when I would speak a lie.

“I will attempt to rein in my vanity and permit the two of you to do your jobs.”

“On that note,” Gamilla said, “I am trained in double column book-keeping. Narces and I feel you will be less... impulsive, if I were to manage the funds.”

“Oh, come on, I – hurgkx...”

I glared at Kismet. “What?” she asked.

“The ten gold I gave you to get to them? What happened to that, Kismet?”

“Oh, that’s right here in my inventory.” She said.

“Kismet, give them the coins now.”

“But they don’t need the coins now.”

“Kismet.”

“Okay, but you’re paying for spa day.”

I took a deep breath, and released my fists. “It seems that the Red Tide is paying for a number of things, Kismet.”

“But you swear it’s paying for spa day?”

Clench, release. “You have earned one... one! Spa day.” I relented.

“Okay.” She gave the coins to Gamilla.

“Let me know as Narces and you go through those funds, I’ll replace them.”

“And pay our normal paychecks.” Narces said.

“To include your normal pay, to include back pay for travel time and to be paid a month in advance.”

Gamilla’s eyes narrowed. “That was too easy. What are you trying to hide?”

“Hide? I’ve been forthright that we’re going to Koputiki, to depart in roughly three day’s time.”

“Hazard pay.” He grumbled.

“Of course, hunting spiders involves hazard pay.” I said.

#

The guards at the mayor’s mansion, as Narces warned, did not accept our diplomatic credentials. “The actual representatives of the Tidelands are coming with credentials from Furdia.” He informed me. “As these are not Furdish, their only worth is the paper they are printed on.”

“Well, then just hand them back, if you please, and good day, sir.”

“You should have let me gut that popinjay.” Gamilla said.

“Diplomacy isn’t about just killing people.” I said. “Lord Rakkal could do it himself if it were.”

“So we’re going back downside?” Narces asked. “Kicked like dogs?”

“Narces, this is a tiny colony in the middle of the ocean. The actions of one governor aren’t the actions of Manora.”

Gamilla furrowed her brow. “Then why ARE we here? None of the local tribes can produce warriors. Not in the numbers to help us.”

I shrugged. “I think that’s irrelevant to the trade goods they can give us. Armies cost a good bit, and profitable trade for Rakkal’s new port will help to feed that army.”

“And how does helping some pig farmers help get us those goods?”

“Reputation.” Kismet said. “You think this guy put together a quest on greed and luck?”

Well, that was pretty much how I remembered it.

“Not a chance.” She continued. “Charisma? Not his strong suit. But stubborn survival? Rhishi has this. Start small, and let the legend grow.”

“I’m not certain I like that plan. It seems to encourage increasing risk to my life.”

“It does seem she’s trying to set your feet onto the path of the champion.” Narces agreed.

“Hrm.” I said, briefly checking my System. That was a Path, just like the Polymath I was trying to work on. I’d look at the details later. “Looks like it requires a bunch of quests.”

“You like quests.” Kismet said.

“I hate quests. They’re long and detailed and usually involve me almost dying. A lot.”

“Quit pretending you don’t care. It isn’t sexy.”

“I’m all of two years old. Why should I WANT to look or act sexy?”

We did enjoy our spa day, or rather I enjoyed a long bath and sunning myself dry atop a pile of everyone’s luggage while hair was fussed with and woven into ornate patterns.

“This design on your back.” Gamilla said, as young girls fussed with her nails and makeup. “It resembles the letter Omega.”

“Natural coloring, I believe. I don’t remember doing anything to alter my scales that way.”

“It seems beyond what nature alone could do.”

I shrugged. “It’s how my scales are colored, since before they turned brown.”

“Oho, and what turned them brown?”

“I transformed from normal scales to the tier two scales like kobolds have. Kobolds are black, and the pigment mixture is this stylish shade of brown.”

“It looks like a giant mud puppy vomited on you.”

“Kismet says the same manner of things.”

“Kismet is right about a good number of things.” She said.

#

We paid the inn that our guards had been staying at for the month, to include meals.

“Why are we staying here a month, if the mayor doesn’t want to see us?” Narces asked. “We should move on to the next town.”

“We don’t do that because it’s what he wants.” I said. “By paying a month, and not hiding that, we make a statement of being willing to wait. For a month.”

“And what if he wants us to wait for three months?” Gamilla asked.

“Hrm? At the two or three week mark, we start looking for boats to Yvettesport.”

“I don’t understand.” Narces said. “Why then?”

“Because,” Kismet said. “That’s how long it’s going to take for a bulk parcel to reach Yvettesport and back.”

“But, because it will pass through his port, the mayor will be aware of the letter. It will be noncommittal, but say that he wants to meet with us to discuss trade terms.”

“Just in case he has someone open the letter.” Kismet said.

“If he hears that we’ve gotten an offer from Yvettesport and are going there, then he has reason to see us. Or to not see us. Either way, it forces him to make a choice.”

“That is devious thinking worthy of a hobgoblin.” Gamilla said, nodding.

.....

“In the meantime,” Kismet said, “our little trip out to Koputiki helps to stress that we’re actually willing to depart, possibly to never come back.”

“That’s insanely convoluted, and involves him having spies at the docks, and possibly on us. What if he doesn’t?”

Gamilla had that answer. “Anyone willing to watch two foreigners claiming to be guards but not the person they claim to be guards for isn’t long for the mayor’s post.”

“Wait. He’s got people watching us?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Gamilla asked.

Narces snorted, but looked around the common room. “He can’t possibly know how deadly we are. Why would he bother watching us?”

“Motley group of four to six people, each of them from a different background.” Kismet said. “Who does that sound like? Adventurers. And adventurers, sooner or later, means trouble. Yeah, if they weren’t watching us before, they are now.”

“They’ve been watching us.” Gamilla said.

“Who?” asked Narces.

“Different people.” Gamilla said.

“You’re making that up from your own farts. How do you KNOW?”

She put a thumb at her collarbone. “Stealth. Class. I have abilities to help me spot people sneaking around.”

“That was so COOL!” Kismet applauded. “Say it again, just like that!”

“No. Pay attention the first time I say things.”

“Aw... you’re so MEAN.”

But we had a decent dinner that night, bits of fish and chicken stirred into a mixture of noodles, peas, and olives, with an orange quartered over potato cubes for the side dish. The ale, although watered down, was stronger than the grog I had become accustomed to, so I paced myself through the mugs, careful not to rack up a poison meter score.

In the morning, we started buying supplies for the spider hunt, and boating them out to the Wanton Sharkbite.

#


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