Dark Obligations: Book One of the Phantom Badgers (27 page)

“I bring you greetings from the wizard Leofric Bluefire,” she purred.

The Captain jerked a thumb towards the crate. “There it is: your box of books that was so damned important. We’ve settled, now, Bluefire and the Badgers: all debts are paid, all obligations discharged. Agreed?”

The blond tresses bobbed once in a graceful acknowledgement. “My master instructed me to pass on his compliments and thanks for your handling of this matter.”

“Handling this matter cost me three members of my Company,” Durek growled. “Tell your master that, and advise him that the Phantom Badgers cannot mount any more forays into
Gradrek Heleth
as we ran into Goblins from the Bronze Hydra on our way out and our entrance is now compromised.”

“On behalf of my master I would like to extend my condolences for your losses, and to offer this trinket as compensation.” The item she handed
Durek was a circlet of engraved bronze: another of the enchanted torcs such as they recovered from
Gradrek Heleth
.

“It acts li
ke a full-face helm, doesn't it? I’ve heard of these things for years, but now we’ve acquired three in one month.” It was hardly compensation for lost comrades, but Durek had to grudgingly admit that it was a gracious gesture to make. “My thanks to your master.”

“My master finds it advantageous to
craft such items.”

“They are very useful accouterments.”

“The Wizard Bluefire recognizes that your debt to him has been discharged by the recovery of these books, and has empowered myself to negotiate with you for a complete accounting of your experiences within the lost Dwarven hold, as such intelligence is of interest to my master.”

“I don’t doubt that it is,” the Captain murmured, pulling a neat roll of parchment from his sleeve;
Bridget had been working on it for much of the return trip. “Of course, nothing in this world is free.”

“I agree. I have here a detailed report on the habits, composition, and general whereabouts of a group of brigands who are harrying several prosperous merchant houses in the western reaches of the Empire; they are located within a hundred miles of Oramere. The Imperial bounty on these subjects is low, no more than five Marks apiece, but the houses they trouble have banded together and have join
tly allocated their own rewards to a sum of six hundred Marks for the elimination of the band, with more for recovery of certain items, and so forth. The brigand’s winter camp is inaccessible during the cold season, but come the spring your forces should be able to make short shrift of them. Naturally, my master applies his usual assurances of accuracy to these estimates, and states that he has not passed this information on to any other, nor would he until mid-summer should you accept it as payment for your information.”

Durek
wondered what debt had this information had repaid: the wizard had his fingers in scores of pies all over this region. Bluefire was a broker of information, a trader of knowledge and favors, a manipulator of events and people-in short, a useful friend and a dangerous enemy. If the wizard gave assurances as to accuracy and the integrity of a secret, you could be confident that he had good reason to be so confident.

“That would seem fair.” The bundles of paper were exchanged.

The messenger carefully draped two long blue ribbons crossways over the crate before smashing a blue bead on the box; with a flicker of light the container vanished. After politely wishing him well, the tall woman crushed a second bead between her hands and vanished in a similar pale blue glow.

The Captain sighed and tucked the
torc inside his coat. It was done now, the raid was officially over. The books were delivered, the tiles were in Helvin’s hands, the unruly ex-slave Pelhan was on a boat heading south, all their obligations were discharged. The raid was complete, over, finished. It was part of Company lore, a war story for recruits, a bond between the ranks of the inner circle that held the Company together.

Relighting his pipe, the Dwarf puffed out a cloud of smoke and frowned thoughtfully into the middle distance; he had left three Badgers behind, three comrades lost forever. They weren’t the first Badgers to die, nor would they be the last to fall in the service of the Company, but it never got any easier for him. Gabriella had been a fine comrade, an excellent Badger, a trusted comrade; Nuilia had been in the Company for years, a familiar face if not an exceptional warrior, but she shared all the risks and hardships of Company service over the years. Trellan
had been a good man in a fight if a difficult subordinate outside of combat, but he had died rescuing children from Goblins, proving yet again that under the worst of circumstances the best in one’s spirit comes out.

The loss of the three
Badgers weighed heavily upon the Captain’s spirits, the loss made heavier by the knowledge that he, Durek, had chosen each for this mission, had deployed the formations, given the commands, made the decisions, and led them to their graves. That it could have just as easily been he, Durek, dead was no comfort for the Captain: the responsibility for his troops’ lives was his and his alone.

What comfort he had was that he took from the eight children wrested from the forces of darkness, the slain
Draktaur, the bags of Breedstones which would burn away in a temple of the Eight come spring, the shattered Goblin ranks they had left behind. He had lost three Badgers, but he had rescued ten from the Void, plus Pelhan. Therein was the value in the past weeks’ work, he decided: in the balance between Badgers lost and people saved, in the harm to the Company versus the harm to the followers of the Void. You took your comfort where you could, and hoped that in the end your actions weighed more heavily in favor of the Light than the Darkness.

Sighing, he took up his axe and rose from the stump; after stretching, he set his
feet towards Oramere and the new crop of problems and controversies that was the constant and ever-growing burden of the Captain of the Phantom Badgers. He would deal with them as he always did: as best he could, given the resources at his disposal and the tools to hand. Such was the nature of the path he had set his feet upon, the way of his life.

Where the road left the clearing he paus
ed and looked back, eyeing the square mark the crate had made in the winter-browned grass, and fingered the packet of papers in his pocket. One road ends, another begins, such was the way of things. A smile tugged at the Dwarf’s beard: come the spring he would take his Badgers out and put to rest a bandit threat, and from there who knows where the road would lead them? Someday he would go the way of his fallen comrades, and he hoped that he would meet them on the other side and explain what their actions and bravery had purchased, and how he, Durek, had managed the fruits of their battles. The accounting would not displease them, he believed, and that thought did more to warm him on the walk back to Oramere than did his heavy wool coat.

Overhead the clouds that had boiled off of the Northern Wastes released their burdens, a sweeping curtain of white that floated down to embrace the land.

Part Two

Durek scowled at the map on the table before him. The corners were weighted down with fist-sized blocks of moss agate, each pink, yellow, and gray-green stone meticulously carved to represent individual mountains in the Thunderpeaks. The stones had begun their careers as game pieces in an elaborate set custom-made for a very wealthy Arturian merchant who had made the dual mistakes of dabbling in proscribed cults, and doing so in a manner that caught the attention of the authorities. The Badgers had bagged the merchant, who was trying to flee through the Eisenalder Empire to the Northern Wastes, collected the bounty, and pillaged his personal belongings. Many of the game pieces had been lost by the merchant while his wagon was crossing a river with the mercenaries in hot pursuit, and the rest were scattered through the possessions of the longer-serving Badgers.

The Captain was in the
castellan’s office of the newly refurbished hold at Oramere with Axel Uldo, Lieutenant and castellan, or hold-master. The two were examining a map of their holdings and the surrounding area, planning for the spring when settlers would come to purchase acreage from the mercenaries.

“We’re still coming up short,” the Captain rumbled, tapping the map, which had various coins on it marking Badge
r detachments. “Janna and Arian with four men-at-arms are in Teasau purchasing grain, building supplies, equipment, and the like; Helmuth is there arranging for river boat transport for the whole affair.” A shilling marked the city, with a copper half-penny atop the silver coin. “Dmitri is leading patrols around the edges of our holdings.” One gnarled finger indicated a copper penny south of the creek that marked the Badger’s south-most holdings. “Looking for Goblin sign with enough troops to handle trouble. Kurt has that new man, Johann Helbrit, and four men-at-arms with him as he escorts the crew double-checking the survey markers for the spring land sales, the township, and the roads.” A brass bitt represented the survey crew. “You have Bridget, Roger, Gottri Gravel-breaker, Rudolf Lusan, Hanns Schack and his wife, and whatever Badger rank-and-file who aren't being used elsewhere getting Oramere set up.” A gold Mark sat atop the symbol for the hold. “I’m needed here as well to oversee the entire operation.”

“That accounts for the entirety of the Company, while still leaving a vital task unfulfilled.” The Dwarf tapped the town of Hohenfels on the map. “We need to send a responsible party to Hohenfels to arrange for the establishment of a supply point; within a few days the goods purchased by Janna’s group will be aboard river boats hired by Helmuth and heading north. We’ll store some here on our holdings, but most will dropped off at Hohenfels to a
wait the spring thaw-that way whatever we don’t need for the settlers can be sold in Hohenfels or points south.” He sat back on his stool and glowered at the wizard.

Axel sipped his wine and studied the map, thinking hard. While the Company currently had one Captain, one Lieutenant, two Serjeants, twenty—
nine Badgers, and thirteen support personnel, further leaders could be drawn from what was called the ‘inner circle’, or cadre of veterans. The wizard knew where his commander was going: he wanted Bridget to take command of the party going to Hohenfels. She was the only logical choice of those who could be spared, but the wizard was determined not to follow up a celibate summer with a wife-less winter; his legs might be crippled, albeit temporarily, but everything else on him was still serviceable.

“I can’t spare anyone,” he announced, setting down his wine glass with what he hoped was finality. “There is too much to do here and too few hands to do it with. Roger’s useless, still mourning his lost lady and picking fights, and Gottri’s
thicker than a stump. Rudolf and Hanns are both banged up retirees called back for service at Oramere, and in any case Rosemary’s not going to let Hanns go off for the winter by himself, and she’s needed here to tend that flock of orphans you’ve burdened me with in addition to everything else.” Actually, the eight children were an asset whose value was growing by the week, but the wizard knew his Dwarven Captain had no knowledge regarding the capabilities of Human children. “You’ll have to draw from someone else, perhaps the Teasau group.”

“The purchasing job needs two trusted Badgers plus guards, and Helmuth will be tied up with the shipping for weeks.”

“What about a hired agent?”

The Captain’s eyes flashed. “Tr
ust Company gold to a stranger? Never.”

Wizards are by nature fast-thinking and deft of thought, in that the effort of manipulating deadly forces and shaping them by will alone quickly weeded out those who weren’t. “Send Starr, then.”

“Starr?” Durek’s eyebrows climbed in surprise. “She’s new, hardly tested.”

“It’s not a combat assignment, Captain, just administrative scut-work. She’s quick and clever, and is very nearly a member of the inner circle anyway.”

“Threll have no head for money, and besides, we’ll need her here for scouting.”

“
If Dmitri can’t track Goblins in the snow he doesn’t need to be leading patrols.”

“Threll can’t haggle, and are careless with small sums. You can bleed away Marks a penny at a time, being careless about small sums.”

“Send Kroh with her to watch the money,” Axel ignored his leader’s estimate of the Lanthrell; of course, when compared to Dwarves nearly everyone was careless with money. “She’s the only one who can keep him in line, anyway. That new half-Orc you brought back, Rolf, seems to follow her around like a puppy, and would round out the party well enough. Nobody’s going to lift a penny off those three in a fair fight or even an unfair one.”

“Sending three non-Humans might not sit well with the folk in Hohenfels.” Durek was not giving up easily.

The Lieutenant shrugged. “They do some business with Dwarves from the mountains, and in any case, a pretty little Threll will have considerable exotic appeal to the town fathers, I shouldn’t wonder. If they pay in hard currency and accept the usual price-gouging the locals dish out to outsiders, they’ll be fine. Janna can check on them on her way back in a few weeks to insure that everything is in order.”

“Janna won’t be coming north until after the first shipments are underway. It would be too late, then,” The Dwarf grumbled.

Axel laughed. “Durek, stop being a mother hen and give the three a chance. Everyone has to have their first task away from the Company. We lost two veterans on the last mission plus a good ranker, and Roger is out of action for the Eight knows how long. We have got to train new blood in leadership to keep ourselves strong, and we need to encourage those we have who can
think
, like Starr.”

The Captain scowled into his ale mug. He had intended to pry Bridget loose for the job, all the time aware that it would not sit well with her husband. Humans and their hormonal responses were
uncertain ground with the Dwarf, and it always made him uneasy and somewhat incredulous that they could ever accomplish anything with their constant concern with breeding. Still, there
was
merit to Axel’s plan: Starr had distinguished herself on the last mission, especially in her dangerous rock-crawling reconnaissance, no small feat for a Threll, or even a Human, and they did need to replenish the inner circle’s ranks, especially if Roger never managed to snap out of his gloom and sour tempers. Kroh was a trusted cadre member, but with a temper as stable as a one-legged duck his independent assignments would be restricted to battle or training.

The wizard sipped hi
s wine and let his Captain stew, as Dwarves were slow to decide when there was time to ponder. His counter-plan, should the Starr gambit fail, would be that he and Bridget handle the Hohenfels mission while Durek himself supervised the organization of the hold, which would be equally unacceptable to the Captain, but harder to turn away on grounds of personal pride.

Finally Durek drained his mug with what Axel recognized as a decisive flourish. “We’ll try it as you’ve suggested; write up a letter of instruction for them
laying out their tasks, what we know of the people involved, all that. Send a letter to Janna advising her to check in on them as she returns, and to leave Arian there if Starr isn’t up to the job.”

“It shall be as you command,” the wizard bowed his head and executed a hand-flourish. Secretly he prayed that this would be the last independent detail
to need manning for some weeks, as Starr was the last potential leader left besides Bridget.

The counting finished, Durek sat back in his chair while Kroh carefully packed the money in a small, stout chest. The Captain and the Hohenfels detachment were sitting in the hold’s dining hall conducting their final briefing.

“Two hundred Imperial Marks in coinage of various denominations,” Durek mentally paled at having to release such a sum from the Company coffers, although he always hated releasing
any
money, no matter how small the sum. “Kroh will be in charge of accounts and haggling; however, do not left thriftiness impede the mission. Starr will be in charge of all other negotiations and arrangements, as well as being the commander of this detachment. Rolf will act as he is instructed, with his primary task being that of additional security. Starr and Kroh have duplicate copies of the letter laying out your mission, and will work with dispatch and care, paying attention to all details. Remember, your mission is part of a larger whole: to facilitate the transport and shelter of the settlers who will come with the spring to buy land from our holdings. Besides the profits from the sale of our land, these people will establish farms which will feed and support the Company, and provide customers for the businesses in Badgerhof, many of which will be owned in part by the Company. If Oramere is to provide a future retirement fund for the Company we must establish a non-mercenary population in the area to support our hold, and this coming spring will see the first installation of that population arrive.”

“Now, I have been in communicat
ion with the Mayor of Hohenfels who has been very cooperative in regards to preparations and advice, so do your best to get along with him. The town itself is not large, but seems well-tended and friendly, so conduct your tasks with a keen eye to cooperation with the locals. Any questions? Fine. If any problems emerge, don’t hesitate to contact me; hire a boat and courier at once. You will leave tomorrow at dawn, taking Iron Tusk along as a pack animal but leaving the horses behind.” He surveyed the faces: Kroh was still wrapped up in the process of storing the money, Rolf was staring shyly at the table top, his hands held in his lap, and Starr was watching her Captain with a rapt, even piercing gaze, slightly giddy at the thought of an independent command: a mixed bunch for certain.

“Here is two shillings walking-around money for each of you,” he placed the coins in front of each Badger. “In copper, of course, for ease of spending. Kroh will replace this as necessary; do not hesitate to stand your rounds in taverns, and never welsh on a debt. At all times you should conduct yourselves with the Company’s reputation in mind.” He tried to think of more useful advice. “Send me a report every five days until Janna checks in with you, ten days thereafter. If you think of any questions before you leave don’t hesitate to ask. Go now and see to your preparations.”

Alone in the dining hall, Durek scowled at the empty chairs and wondered what could go wrong, and how such problems might be handled.

A fine dusting of snow was drifting downward from a leaden sky as the three Badgers and the war pig paused to study the clearing and river bank before them. On the north bank of the Southline Creek where it joined with the Burgen River a square area of roughly ten acres had been cleared, used first as a base camp for Imperial troops sixty years ago, and then as a fur-trader’s post twenty years later; it had been abandoned for nearly forty years, but a few walls still stood here and there amid piles of rubble. The Dwarven artisans who had built two wide stone piers as part of their contact with the Badgers had also used the area as a base and staging area while they restored Oramere, clearing away much of the undergrowth and smaller trees to make room for their tents and to use as firewood. In the spring a village named Badgerhof would be erected here to support the incoming farmers, and to generate profits for the Company’s retirement fund.

The Badgers took shelter in the lee of a sagging stone wall, playing draughts and ring-toss to pass the time while they waited for the river boat that would carry them south. Each was nervous for reasons of their own, and each was affected in his or her own way. Starr, who was both thrilled to be in command
and worried sick that the mission would fail due to poor leadership, burst into peals of brittle laughter at anything even remotely funny, gnawing at a lock of her golden hair in between outbursts. Kroh was unhappy about a waterborne journey of seventy-odd miles, and was gruffer than normal to hide this concern. Rolf, deeply honored to be allowed on an independent mission so soon into his service with the Badgers and painfully eager to prove himself worthy, was even more silent than usual.

Interest in games faded after the first hour passed, and the three fell into inner reflection as the snow stopped falling and the day warmed a bit. Their thoughts were not disturbed by the need for a sentry: no Goblin or bandit could slip on them without alerting Iron Tusk, who was slowly circling their position, idly rooting here and there. Starr re-read her letter of instructions for the hundredth time while Kroh scowled into clouds of cigar smoke and Rolf nervously groomed his pair of cave rats.