Dreamer's Throne 2: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure, page 31
Though it would have been much easier with another hand, Garrett didn’t have any other option, so he tugged his enemy over, feeling the coarse leather apron he wore as he rolled over on top of his enemy, keeping his chest to the man’s back as he wrapped his right arm around the man’s head, pulling his head back to get a better grasp on the man’s neck. Sharp pain bit into his back as he rolled onto the axe that the man had dropped, but he ignored it, twisting his right arm sharply as he wrenched with his left. He was rewarded with a sharp snap as the man’s spine cracked, but he didn’t let go until the twitching stopped. When it did, he let out a gasp, his lungs desperately searching for air, and heaved the corpse off of himself.
The axe had cut deeply into his back as he rolled on it, and he was completely exhausted from both the tension and the physical struggle, so he let his soul spark work freely, sending rejuvenating streams of energy throughout his body. He could feel the wounds starting to mend, but once the bleeding had stopped he restrained it again. By the time he had the energy to move, half the night had passed, and he spent the rest of the night arranging his cell and planning his next move. The feeling of impending crisis was still weighing on him, and Garrett was starting to get worried. He had expected that tension to vanish now that he was in the middle of a problem, but the fact that it hadn’t spoke of something bigger on the horizon.
When the Dream finally receded, Garrett felt like he had done all he could. Viper and the ghouls were in position, with some of them even making their way to the crypt that lay under the prison, and Ryn, Obe, and the rest of the Awakened were standing by at the inn. Though the sun did not make its presence known in his cell, Garrett could feel its influence even in the dark damp. It was like a warm light that crept over him, driving back the cold of the Dream. Time passed slowly in the cell, but Garrett had plenty of plans to make, and he amused himself by coming up with as many plans as he could for how he would find whoever had arranged this little play.
Eventually, the door, which had never been re-bolted, opened and the sounds of heavy boots echoed in the hallway. There were angry voices too, including one that Garrett had been expecting. Light danced down the passage, chasing back the shadows and forcing Garrett to squint his eyes. In less than a minute, Grant stormed into the cell, his face dark with fury. Behind him, the belligerent jailer was trying to keep up, but both of the men stopped dead when they saw the scene in the cell. Garrett was sitting by the wall, his back perfectly straight, with bruises and dried blood covering his face. What drew their attention, however, was the man across from him.
The light of the lantern that Grant held shone over a shirtless man with a heavy leather apron that was covered in splatters of dried blood. A rough sack mask covered his head that was lolled to the side, his neck wrapped with a chain that rose to a bolt stuck in the wall. The chain was not quite long enough for his butt to reach the ground, but his legs were splayed out, supporting his back against the stone wall. If that were it, it would have been fine, but what caused both of the men to shudder was the bloody axe the man’s fingers gripped, and his left leg that lay in two pieces.
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“What…?”
Unable to process what he was seeing, the jailer just stammered for a moment, his eyes darting to Garrett, who was sitting there like nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Don’t look at me,” Garrett said with a smile. “He came in here, chopped his leg off, and then hung himself.”
“You… you expect me to believe that?!”
“Do I look like I could have done that? Wrestled away his axe, chopped his leg off, and then hung him on that chain? You have a really wild imagination.”
Rounding on the jailer, Grant drew himself up, his soul spark flaring as he glared at the flabbergasted man.
“You heard him. I’m taking him out of here to see the chief, and if you don’t like it, you can stay here in his place with your friend.”
The threat was clear from Grant’s tone of voice, and the jailer, who was a mortal, found fear taking root in his heart as he stared at Grant’s burning eyes. Muttering something, he quickly backed up, not interfering as Grant picked Garrett up and carried him out. When they came out of the passage and went up the stairs into the morning light, Grant’s expression hardened and he turned around, kicking the jailer in the chest and sending the man tumbling down the stairs. With a scream that sounded like a pig being slaughtered, the big man scraped against the stone walls and slammed against the steps, ending up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Not even making an excuse for his actions, Grant put Garrett down on a nearby bench and started to go to find someone to dress his wounds. Realizing what he was going to do, Garrett caught his arm and shook his head.
“Kind of you, but believe me, it’ll take a lot more than this to put me down. Let’s not keep the chief waiting.”
Nodding reluctantly, Grant picked Garrett up again and brought him into the prison’s main office, finding a chair for him in a room filled with people. Carraway was there, a little disheveled but none the worse for wear, as was a portly, smiling man with rosy cheeks who peeked out at everyone from squinted eyes. Garrett only needed one look to know he was the representative from the merchants’ guild, and that whoever was overseeing this meeting was about to have a very bad day. Chief Fellix was there as well, along with a quiet-looking man Garrett didn’t recognize.
When Garrett was carried in, the man glanced over at him and Garrett felt an electric bolt run through him as Shaper-level energy probed his defenses. Thankful he had been using the shrouding effect of Dream Cloak during the day to try to hide his Awakened level, Garrett wasn’t sure it had worked when he saw surprise and then shock flash through the quiet man’s eyes. Afraid to push his luck by staring, Garrett turned his attention to the harassed-looking officer sitting at the front of the room. Captain Fernek stood behind him, his hat clenched in a white-knuckled grip as he tried his best to present a calm front.
There were a lot of people in the room, but there was no doubt that Garrett was the center of attention. He smelled like the cell, which was to say the bottom of a latrine pit, and his face was peppered with cuts and bruises. There was dried blood all over him, and it was clear from the way he clutched his side and winced when Grant put him down that his ribs were at least bruised and possibly broken. Silence filled the room as everyone took in Garrett’s miserable condition, but the reactions were quite different. Both of the merchants looked shocked and outraged, Chief Fellix and Grant both looked mad, and the other man who was with them looked calm.
Captain Fernek looked sick to his stomach and his face had taken on a white hue as soon as he laid eyes on Garrett, but the other officer who was with him looked completely indifferent, which Garrett had not expected. As soon as the indifferent officer spoke, however, Garrett realized what was going on.
“Are both defendants here? Are you Garrett Klein? You stand accused of conspiring to evade taxes by not reporting sales.”
Chuckling, Garrett stared at the captain, whose face started to grow red.
“How do you plead?”
The question snapped Garrett’s attention back to the situation at hand and he furrowed his brow, wincing slightly as one of his cuts started bleeding again. When he didn’t answer, the officer glared at him and repeated the question.
“I asked you how do you plead?”
Again, Garrett didn’t answer, instead looking at the man who was with Chief Fellix. There was no trace of any emotion on the man’s narrow face, and he looked completely calm.
“I will not ask you again, Klein.”
“Not guilty.”
“Are you sure about that? The penalty for those who are found guilty but refuse to admit their guilt is much harsher.”
“Not guilty.”
“Fine. I have recorded your answer. Now. I know why I have a member of the merchants’ guild here, but can someone please explain to me why there are exorcists in my office?”
“Because you’ve arrested, and by the looks of it, tried to kill, an exorcist,” the quiet-looking man said, adjusting the glasses on his nose.
For the first time, the impassive officer’s expression cracked, and one of his eyes twitched slightly. Shooting a glance at Garrett, who was looking at him with a smile, he took a deep breath, but before he could speak the door burst open and the jailer staggered in, badly battered from his fall down the stairs.
“He killed someone! He’s a murderer! A murderer!”
The shrill yells caught everyone by surprise, and the preceding officer’s eye twitched again.
“Shut up!” he yelled, a vein throbbing in his temple. “What are you blabbering about?”
Gulping, the jailer calmed down and started to explain about the man in the cell, but Grant rudely interrupted him.
“Oh, come off it. Commander Welen, when we walked into the cell to get Mr. Klein, there was someone else in there who had committed suicide. It looked like he hung himself. What I really want to know is why someone took an axe and went to a solitary confinement cell last night?”
Garrett was watching Captain Fernek’s face as Grant spoke and saw the captain shutting his eyes and swallowing hard.
Bingo.
“Is this true?” Commander Welen asked, looking at Garrett, who shrugged.
“It was pretty dark down there, Commander. It looks to me like he came in, chopped his own leg off, and then wrapped one of the sets of chains around his neck and hung himself.”
“Send someone to go down and bring the body up for us to see,” the commander said, rubbing his forehead.
When Captain Fernek reluctantly stepped forward, Grant lifted his hand.
“I’ll accompany the captain here to make sure nothing gets lost between here and there.”
Seeing the jailer trying to follow them out, Commander Welen called for him to stop.
“Did you know that Mr. Klein is an exorcist?”
Shock colored the jailer’s face and fear flooded his eyes as he stared at Garrett. Rapidly shaking his head, he tried to back out the door, but Commander Welen shouted for him to stop, causing him to freeze in place. The commander, who was growing incensed, glared at the jailer and then called for one of his aides, sending the man to get Garrett’s possessions that had been confiscated the day before. It wasn’t long before the aide returned with a simple box that was emptied out in front of Commander Welen, causing the twitching vein in the commander’s temple to throb noticeably. Among the various items was a small brass badge that showed the exorcists’ guild symbol, proving that Garrett was indeed a member of the guild.
“It would seem there has been a mistake here,” Commander Welen said, his voice hoarse.
Wow, Ryn really needs a raise. First the count’s estate, then the safe at Carraway’s office, and now slipping into the prison. I should buy her something nice.
Sitting on the other side of the table, Garrett couldn’t help but be impressed. Ryn’s outstanding burglary skill had saved him three times in the last week, starting with the incident with the mirror. He wasn’t sure where she had stored all of the things she had taken out of Carraway’s safe, but it had ensured that Captain Fernek couldn’t find any of the evidence he wanted, forcing the city guard into this awkward position of being unjustified in their arrest and treatment of him and Carraway. But adding his exorcist badge to the box of his effects overnight had to take the cake.
He had left it at the inn, and so when the jailer had searched him the night before it truly wasn’t there. But Garrett had been in a cell all night, and the jailer wouldn’t have added it himself, so for it to appear among Garrett’s things made it seem like it had always been there and had just been missed. As soon as the badge glinted on the table, the thin-faced exorcist let out a slight sigh, his expression moving from calm to stormy, and if he heard Commander Welen’s words, he gave no indication.
“It would seem that the city guard does not appreciate the contribution of the exorcists’ guild, Commander. That is disappointing. I have always believed that while we were different in superficial things, like our uniforms and our focus, we were united in our mission. I am beginning to doubt that. To see one of our members, especially one so vulnerable as Mr. Klein, mistreated like this over an accusation of a crime that, even if proven true, would only result in a fine? That is most disturbing.”
“I’m sure there is a good reason for what has happened,” the commander said, sitting back and looking around with a hard gaze. “I can understand why you are upset, but the city guard is dedicated to seeing justice be served, and though we pursue it with vigor, our methods are not to be questioned.”
It took Garrett a moment to understand exactly what was going on, but the realization allowed him an insight into the state of the city. The commander, whether he was right or wrong, had no choice but to defend the position of the city guard, as this had become a power play among three of the major participants in the city’s operations. The merchants’ guild didn’t have much cause to complain, considering that Carraway had only been roughed up a bit, but the trick Garrett had played allowed the exorcists’ guild to put significant pressure on the city guard, which they were happy to do.
What a tangled web. It seems I’ve just touched on a bigger fight that is underway between the various organizations. The city guard seem like the ultimate gang, but one controlled by the nobles and the royal duke, while the other groups are all gangs of their own, pursuing their own interests. Huh, it’s a different level than the gang fights the Family is getting involved in, but at the end of the day, it’s all the same, isn’t it.
Adjusting his glasses, the thin-faced exorcist looked at the commander, his expression sharp.
“Fine—”
Before he could continue, the door opened and Captain Fernek opened the door, gesturing for the prison guards behind him to bring a stretcher in. On it lay the body of the man who had come to Garrett’s cell the night before. None of the people in the room were new to the sight of corpses, so they just cleared a space and put down the stretcher to examine the body. Looking at the thick muscles on the body’s arms, and then over at Garrett’s beat-up body, the fat merchant, who hadn’t said a thing at all yet, suddenly chuckled.
“Is something funny, Mr. Marlow?” the commander asked, his expression grim.
“Quite. You expect me to believe that this man walked in on a defenseless prisoner and then lost in a fight? The city guard is developing quite the imagination. This case is getting more and more ridiculous. If you keep dragging this out, I’m afraid the cost will not be something you can bear.”
Drawing himself up, the commander glared at Marlow, his eyes like daggers.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Yes,” Marlow said, his smile not breaking. “The merchant guild has had more than enough of your strong-arm actions. You do nothing to protect us, and then you terrorize us over trumped-up charges. Your men did over ten-thousand-gold worth of damage to Master Carraway’s office and home, and besmirched his reputation among the public, which is an offense greater than any other to a merchant. Even if you repaid the more than fifteen-thousand-gold worth of damage, it wouldn’t be enough to wash away the shame of being paraded through the streets like a common criminal. There is no doubt in my mind that you have much to answer for, but after watching you cause well above twenty-thousand-gold worth of damage on nothing but malicious slander, what merchant will ever trust your organization again?”
With every number that Marlow listed, the commander seemed to feel a physical blow, but to his credit he maintained his fierce expression. Not that it did him any good as words continued to pour out of the chubby merchant’s mouth.
“The city guard serves a vital function in this city, but you know just as well as I do that the currency that you trade on is trust. Trust that has been eroded by years of petty abuse. All true citizens of this fair city would agree that the city guard is an important component of our safety, but there is a rot in your brains if you think that wantonly causing twenty-five to thirty-thousand-gold worth of damage to an upstanding citizen’s home can go unpunished. As I said, we have had enough.”
For the first time, Marlow’s smile faded, and he looked at the commander sternly.
“The merchants’ guild is prepared to forfeit the supply contract we have with the city guard, and will immediately cease any contributions to the guard’s treasury.”
In the stunned silence that followed Marlow’s declaration, Commander Welen’s face went white as a sheet and his thick hand, which was resting on top of the table, began to tremble. Sensing weakness, the thin-faced exorcist spoke up as well, sealing the commander’s retreat.
“A wise course of action. The exorcists’ guild will cooperate with the merchants’ guild in this, filling in the security gap that such a change will cause. Additionally, we will withdraw all of our special teams that have been working with the city guard. If you wish to throw your weight around and prove you are the biggest and strongest force in the city, we are happy to let you.”
Opening his mouth, the commander was at a loss for words as he stared back and forth between the two men. This matter should have been something that he could have swept under the rug with a simple apology, but somehow it had escalated into a terrifying storm that, if not handled perfectly, would completely shake the power balance in the city. Just then, his eyes caught the dead body on the stretcher and all the fight drained right out of him.
“Let’s not be too hasty,” he said weakly. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement that suits everyone.”
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I’ve been riding in carriages a lot recently. Maybe I should get one of my own. I’ll have Obe look into that.
