[Mkguild] Plain and simple part 2

[Chris]

 Here is part 2 - Poor Duke Thomas has a bad day!



May 700


   Duke Thomas heard the problem long before it actually reached him.
The shouting was clearly audible through the closed doors that led to
his audience chamber. The voices grew even louder when those doors were
finally opened. He quickly wished they had stayed closed.

   A group of a dozen people came pouring into the audience chamber all
of whom seemed to be waving their arms wildly and shouting at each other
and at no one in particular all at the same time.

   “BANDIT!! BRIGAND!!”

   “MERCENARY, BOUNTY HUNTER!”

   “FAT MERCHANT!”

   “HE IS A WANTED KILLER AND YOU WILL TURN HIM OVER TO ME!”

   “YOU DON’T GIVE ORDERS HERE!”

   “LORD DETRIUX HAS A FIVE HUNDRED GARRETT REWARD FOR HIS HEAD!”

   Thomas stomped a hoof hard on the marble floor and the sound
resounded throughout the whole room like a clap of thunder. “QUIET!”

   The room fell silent and all eyes turned to the Duke. In the past
Thomas had been a tall man with light brown hair and blue eyes. But now
clothed in the dark blue robes of the Duke was a tall, black stallion
that was standing on its hind legs. Instead of hooves this person had
hands. In spite of being more equine then human Thomas still had a regal
air about him. His powerful neck arched and his nostrils flared, ears
laid back.

   “Explain yourselves,” the stallion Duke ordered.

   An alligator dressed in long, flowing robes stepped forward and bowed
deeply to the Duke. The reptilian features displayed no emotions giving
him the same harsh looks that all reptiles had. It made him look cold,
emotionless and stoic.

   The curse was supposed to have worked randomly on everyone in the
Keep changing them into different animals but Thomas always wondered if
the curse had some twisted sense of humor. As an alligator Thalberg
looked cold and emotionless. As a human he had been the same way. Thomas
knew that he was a warm and caring person but Thalberg had always kept a
cold demeanor in public. Not harsh or cruel but there had always been a
calm, detached air about him. There were few people who could withstand
his harsh gaze. That alone could end most arguments. Few people liked
the steward but all respected him. Being an alligator seemed to
perfectly compliment his personality.

   “My lord, Duke Thomas,” Steward Thalberg said calmly. He pointed a
green skinned hand at a short man dressed in very expensive clothes.
“Aldred Fitz Williams, representative of Marshburg wishes an audience
with you.”

   The alligator pointed to three other men each one dressed in clothes
more elaborate then the one before. “Sir Dedium of Lothanorre, High
Protector of Isenport Alinux Arthlow, and Philip Wellsman,
representative of Lord Detriux also seeks audience with you.”

   Standing on the opposite side of the room was another man. He was
dressed in a shabby cloak and pants that were tattered and dirty and the
chain mail shirt he was wearing was rusted in spots. A cutlass and a
long dagger dangled from his belt. The Duke noted that although the
armor was dirty the weapons were clean and well cared for. He looked at
Thomas with a calm, calculated stare. The Duke was sure that he was
being sized up by this scruffy looking character.

   Standing between the dirty man and the well dressed ones were no
fewer then six of the Duke’s guards. Two were watching the well dressed
arrivals, the remaining four were carefully watching the other arrival.
It spoke volumes on who they considered the bigger threat.

   “And who is this?” Thomas asked pointing to the dirty man.

   “This is George,” Thalberg explained. “The reason they are here,” he
said and pointed to the other four. The alligator steward shuffled
forward and handed a small piece of parchment to the Duke.

   Thomas examined the document for a moment. “Ah yes. George. The one
recommended by Misha.”

   George’s face brightened at the mention of Misha’s name. “I was told
that you needed my services,” he said in a calm voice.

   Thalberg nodded. “I have already ordered Misha to appear here.”

   “He is a thief, a brigand and a brutal killer,” Sir Dedium shouted.
“He MUST be turned over to me or hanged immediately.”

   “That man,” the High Protector Alinux Arthlow, accused “is
responsible for massacring over two thousand people at Sandport and
starting a civil war.”

   “Your king is still mad because I backed his brother instead of him.
And I wasn’t the only person who fought at the BATTLE of Sandport,”
George countered quietly.

   “Lord Detriux has a five hundred Garrett reward for his head,” Lord
Wellsman commented offering no explanations as to why.

   “Five hundred?” a voice said suddenly from the doorway. “I didn’t
think George was worth more than two hundred.”

   Looking up Thomas saw Misha standing in the doorway. The foxman was
dressed as usual in a brown shirt and green pants. He had no shoes on
his paws but as the fox walked across the floor he made no sound. That
didn’t surprise the Duke. Even with his sensitive equine ears Thomas
never heard Misha approaching. The vulpine scout seemed to do everything
supernaturally quietly and stealthily. He had even approached from
downwind so that the equines sensitive nose couldn’t pick up his scent.

  The fox man stalked across the floor to where George was standing.
“GEORGE!” he shouted and flung his arms around the man.

   George pushed the vulpine away. “Who are you?” he asked remaining
calm but keeping the fox man at arms length.

   “I’m Misha,” the vulpine answered sounding slightly upset. His ears
drooped and he tucked his tail between his legs.

   “Prove it!” George countered. “Furry.”

   Misha pulled up his shirt revealing the cream colored fur that
covered his chest and torso. He grabbed George’s right hand and placed
it low down on his chest, just above his belt. “Feel that scar?” the fox
asked.

   The man nodded in reply. “How did you get it?”

   “You gave it to me,” Misha answered coldly, “when we first met. And
there is a nice scar on your right shoulder that I gave you at the same
time. If you want more proof I can go fetch HER. You know the axe all
too well.”

   George didn’t answer at first but looked deep into Misha’s eyes until
the fox man shifted uncomfortably.

   “The body is different but the soul inside isn’t.” The old man smiled
broadly revealing yellow teeth. Then he hugged the vulpine morph tightly
slapping him on the back. “It’s good to see you again. You’re hairier
than last time.”

   The two separated but stood close. “It’s good to see you George. We
need you here more then ever.”

   “Why is it Misha,” Thomas commented sarcastically, “that whenever you
appear here there is always screaming and shouting?”

   “That last one was Wessex’s fault, not mine. A man should learn when
to stop asking questions,” Misha countered harshly.

   Thomas nodded his head. “Indeed,” was all he said.

   The Duke turned his gaze upon the bandit George. “You are this great
scout Misha has been telling me about?”

   “SCOUT?” Fitz Williams said derisively. “He’s a bandit and a
mercenary. A sell-sword of the lowest type. He kills for money.”

   “Your money,” George countered. “Your money and the money of other
nobles like you.”

   “You kill just for money,” Fitz Williams shouted back.

   George looked unfazed, “I kill for money. You kill for land and
power. What’s the difference?”

   Fitz William looked ready to explode but the Duke cut him off with
the tap of a hoof.

   “Enough!” Thomas ordered.

   “I don’t pay mercenaries,” Fitz Williams retorted ignoring the Duke.

  “That’s right,” George shot back. “You hire them and then when they’ve
done what you want you kill them. The only person you have to pay is the
executioner.”

   “ENOUGH!” Thomas shouted ending the argument. The stallion was
intrigued by George. For a ragged looking bandit he seemed capable of
holding his own in an argument with nobles. It showed that the man had a
quick and sharp mind. A thing missing in many nobles.

   “Now George,” the equine duke said softly and pointed a hoof-like
hand at the other humans in the room. “They want you and are willing to
pay a rather large quantity of coins to get you. Explain to me why I
shouldn’t hang you and hand over your corpse to them or perhaps
dismember you and give each a piece?”

   George walked past the Duke, up to a window and pulled back the
curtains. From there the Keep and the whole of the valley to the north
was clearly visible. He pointed to a tall, thick pillar of smoke that
rose from the trees nearby. That smoke rose from the remains of a
village raided the previous night by Lutins. “I can stop that from
happening again.”

   “You’re a bandit and a raider,” Alinux commented sarcastically.

   “Yes. I’ve been a raider and I’ve hunted raiders,” George explained.
“Who else would you pay to kill raiders? That fat merchant?” he said and
pointed to Fitz Williams.

   The merchant started to speak but Thomas stomped his hoof and the man
kept silent.

   The Duke turned to George. “You are aware of the curse?”

   “Yes,” George answered simply.

   The Duke stared at the old bandit for a long time waiting for him to
continue but George remained silent.

   “Why do you want to stay here?” the stallion asked finally breaking
the silence. “Once the curse takes hold you will probably never leave
this valley again.”

   George shrugged. “I’m old,” he said. “I’m tired of cheap inns, bad
food and poor pay. I want a place where I can relax my old bones and
live in peace and comfort.”

   The equine nodded his head. “Your pay will be fifty gold a month to
start plus food and a private room,” Thomas said calmly.

   “You’re accepting that explanation?” Thalberg asked in surprise.
“That is not enough of a reason.”

   “It is good enough for me,” Thomas countered in a harsh tone that
left no room for doubt or argument. “A man should learn when to stop
asking questions,” he said mimicking Misha’s earlier argument.

   The steward didn’t speak but simply bowed in acquiescence. Thomas
knew this debate would be continued in private later when he was alone
with Thalberg.

   “You cannot hire him!” Philip Wellsman announced. “You don’t know how
good he is. He’s exaggerating just to get your gold.”

   “No he isn’t,” the Duke countered. “The high bounty you’re offering
proves his skills.”

   Foiled by his own words Lord Wellsman fell silent but there was a
harsh expression on his face.

   “We have no proof of his skills Lord Thomas,” Thalberg interjected.
“How do we know he is the bandit George and not a stranger masquerading
as him?”

   “I know him,” Misha said in a deep tone filled with anger. “He taught
me all I know about scouting and tracking and MY skills are not doubted
by anyone. I know this man and trust him with my life.”

   That silenced the Steward. The fox rarely spoke in terms so adamant
but when he did, he meant it. Thomas pondered for a moment before
speaking.

   “Misha is going on one of his killing sprees in a few days,” the Duke
said with an air of authority. “To take revenge on the ones who burnt
that village.” He pointed out the window towards the column of smoke.
“You, George will accompany him. At no time will you leave the valley.
When the curse has taken hold then you two may return if you’re still
alive. Then they’ll be no doubt as to your loyalty.”

   George nodded. “Fair enough.”

   “It’ll take us a month just to look over the whole valley,” Misha
added. “And visit every castle and village north of here.”

   “You cannot . . . “ Sir Dedium sputtered.

   “If you don’t like my decision,” Thomas said, interrupting the
knight, “you can wait here for two weeks and see if he returns.” The
curse was a problem but did have its good points.

   Dead silence fell over the group. All present knew that a stay that
long would surely let the curse take them. They wanted the bandit but
not that badly.

   “My Lord Fanthick of Lothanorre must be informed of your decision
Duke Thomas,” Dedium said slowly.

   Thomas simply nodded. “We will meet tomorrow morning Geoege. I wish
to know you better before I trust you to go wandering around my valley.”


   End part 2

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