It is a frightening thing to be sought out by unknown, invisible and undetectable enemies, who can attack whenever they want without fear of revenge or punishment.
At least, it seemed so to me. If my partner shared these sentiments, he never made it clear to me in any way. The truth is that he rather seemed to enjoy the situation, which I suppose was quite natural, since the purpose he had sworn to pursue in life was to seek a heroic death.
However, I was worried. The attack on the tavern had shaken me, and the knowledge that an implacable enemy lurked in the night did little to calm my nerves, though it seemed we also had allies who were determined to help us for reasons of their own that we couldn't guess.
Elysia, 'The Adventures of the Dark Hero', vol. II,
Printed in Riverheim, kingdom of Arcadia.
♦ ♦ ♦
"What are you doing here, young Elysia?"
A shadow fell over Elysia, and with a start she reached for her sword hilt. The book fell from her lap and nearly ended up in the fire as she began to rise from the overstuffed leather chair. Looking up from her, he saw that it was just old Heinz, the owner of the Stinking Pig Tavern, standing over her, polishing a mug he held in one of her huge meaty hands. Elysia let out a long breath as she suddenly realized how tense she was. She sank back into the chair and forced her hand to drop from the sword hilt.
"You're a little tense tonight," Heinz commented evenly.
"Just a little," Elysia agreed.
A quick glance around her told her that the old ex-mercenary was not going to rush her to get to work. His services as his guard were not needed at that time, since it was still early and there were only a few patrons. Normally, the tavern didn't really start working until well after dark. On the other hand, Elysia realized that inside The Stinky Pig there was a much greater stillness than usual. It was obvious that the number of patrons had dropped since the ratfolk attack the week before, an event that had done nothing to improve the tavern's already terrible reputation.
Elysia bent to pick up the book, a cheap print of one of the more melodramatic plays by a minor dramatist, which had served the purpose of diverting her thoughts from the fact that the wererats were apparently after her.
"There will be little work tonight, Elysia," Heinz said.
"You think?"
"I know."
Heinz held the mug up to the light to make sure he'd brushed off even the tiniest speck of dust, then set it on the mantelpiece. Elysia caught the light shining on the bald head of the old mercenary, and then she sighed and placed the book on the arm of the chair. Heinz had a sociable nature and she would have liked to chat with him. Besides, Heinz was probably just as nervous as she was, since the bartender had every reason in the world to be. She had nearly lost her livelihood to the ferocious ratfolks, and it had taken a few days to repair all the damage done by the wererats.
"Business has been bad since the ratfolk attack," Elysia commented.
"He will recover again. The same thing happened after the murder of that couple, two months ago. The nobles will stay away for a while, and then they'll come back. They like to have a sense of danger when they drink; that's why they come here. But tonight we won't see anyone, if I'm not mistaken."
"And because?"
"For the Sylph Party. It's a special night here in Bergheim. Most people will stay at home praying, fasting and making sure everything is spotlessly clean."
"There has to be someone who wants to have a drink."
"The only ones going to have fun are the Alchemists Guild and their apprentices. Sylph is also his patron, and tonight the duke throws a big feast for them in his palace. He dedicates his best to them."
"Why is the duke inclined to throw a feast for commoners?" Elysia was curious. Duke Emmanuel was not famous for his generosity. "He Normally he doesn't like us very much."
Heinz laughed.
"It's true, but these are special commoners. They run their new Faculty of Alchemy, and make potions of all kinds and all sorts of special alchemical products for the dukedom's army, just as the Imperial Faculty for the Emperor of the Kaleth Empire does; this is the only duchy that has a type of government organization that can compete with the Imperial war machine. You can afford to give them a nice dinner once a year, if that makes them happy.
"I bet you can."
"I thought maybe you'd like to take the night off to be with Elissa, Frey, maybe both. I know it's your day off, and I've noticed that you've been seeing each other quite often lately."
Elysia looked up.
"Do you disapprove?"
"I always say that there is nothing wrong with two girls being together. I was just making an observation."
"Elissa has left to spend the day in her town. She has a sick relative. She told me that she would come back tomorrow."
"Sorry to hear it. There are many sick around, and people are starting to gossip about the plague. Well, in that case, I'll let you get back to reading."
Elysia opened the book again, but she didn't turn the page. She was amazed that Heinz could be so optimistic just days after the attack. The cat girl winced at any shadow, but the bartender was cleaning her mugs so happily. Perhaps all the years he had spent as a mercenary had forged the old warrior's nerves to steel, and she, Elysia, wished she had them the same. At that moment she couldn't help but wonder what the ratfolks were up to, and she was sure they were up to no good.
♦ ♦ ♦
The Black Magician Dhalthar leaned against the huge Dark Bell. He cast a malevolent look around the vast chamber, at the sea of mouse-faced ratfolks. Dhalthar sensed the increased activity around him, the scent of the mass of ratfolk soldiers gathered in the surrounding tunnels. All the Clan warriors were there, reinforced by large contingents from all the powerful factions of the great ratfolk alliance. It was nice to be away from the sewers, back on the roads that connected all the cities of the underground empire. It was nice… but right now he wasn't feeling any pleasure because he was too angry.
He fought against the anger that invaded him. He reminded himself that somewhere, above the surface, humans were going about his business; who plowed his fields, felled his forests, not suspecting, not knowing, that his time of rule was almost over, that very soon his city and then his Kingdom would fall under the iron grip of the ratfolk military genius. But even those thoughts did nothing to cheer him up or dissipate his anger.
He ran a claw across the Dark Bell and produced a faint tinkling note as he continued to try to control the anger he felt. The bell swayed slightly at the Black Magician's touch, and the carriage he sat in creaked as the ancient artifact moved. The seething magical energies within the bell comforted Dhalthar a little. "Shortly." he told himself. "I will unleash these enormous forces against my enemies." Very soon, he hoped, but at that moment he was filled with a terrible anger that consumed him and he had to find someone to take it out on.
Chang crawled in the dust before him, waiting for the Black Magician to decide his fate. It had taken Dhalthar almost a week to track him down. The would-be master ninja lay face down in the shadow of the massive bell, muttering pathetic excuses about how he had been betrayed, about targets being warned of his otherwise irresistible attack, about using vile spells to kill him. killing his warriors…and, above all, about the fact that it hadn't been his fault. Not far from the ninja were Dhalthar's lieutenants, their front paws covering their mouths to muffle the sound of his laughter.
Thousands of faces looked at Dhalthar, eager to know what he would do next. It wasn't often that one of the powerful would humble themselves of their own free will. Dhalthar let his gaze fall on each of the warchiefs, who fidgeted under his inspection, their squeaks ceasing. Neither of them wanted to be the target of his anger, which was a shame for them, because one would have to be.
The Black Magician looked at the representatives of the Shaper Clan, the Furtim Clan, the Marchin Clan, and the Morbus Clan. They were all under his command, at least until his replacement, Warmaster Virmek, arrived, and that was not going to happen. Dhalthar had prepared a little surprise for him. Virmek would never make it to this place alive. The thought caused his tail to stiffen. And yet...
Yet despite all the power he had under his control, he couldn't get that big male to be killed.