Dragon Mage 109 - Grandfather (Patreon)

370 days until the Arkon Shield falls

It did not take long for the battle to draw to its inevitable conclusion.

After my own part was done, I slid down to the floor, leaving the mopping up to Tara and the others. The village hall was cleared, and the first step—and perhaps most challenging part—of the plan was complete. Now, only to make contact with the rebels and rid the rest of the village of the gang.

While I waited, I turned my attention to the Trials alerts that had unfurled in my mind.

You have gained in experience and are now a level 72 Trainee. Your skill in unarmed combat has advanced to level 10 and reached rank 2, Trainee.

I had advanced another level, but despite this unexpected bonus, I couldn’t seem to work up the energy to feel any excitement. It was sad really when you considered how little the Trials valued the lives of seventy-something humans—no matter how despicable they’d been.

My despondent mood didn’t stem from that, though. What had me down was coming to terms with my own actions. I had slain the thugs without hesitation. I had killed with abandon and had been remorseless in my pursuit of vengeance.

No, not vengeance, I corrected. Justice.

This time my motivations had been unsullied by personal desires or darker emotions. What I had done, I had done to readdress the harm the thugs had inflicted on William and the village. There could be no place in the Human Dominion for those who enslaved others.

My actions had been just. I knew this.

Still, I could not help but bemoan what I was becoming. It was only now, in the battle’s aftermath, that I realized the thugs in this room were the first humans I’d killed. Ever. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the tavern wall.

Is the path I walk too dark? I wondered. No. I act as I must. I do what others cannot.

“Jamie, are you alright?”

Opening my eyes, I saw Tara kneeling before me, concern writ on her face. “I’m fine,” I said, waving away her worry. “Did any of them get away?”

“No,” she replied. “And it doesn’t look like any alarms have been sounded either.”

I labored back to my feet. We still had lots to do before sunrise. “Then we should get started on the next step.”

Tara nodded. “I will leave Arenson to you. Take Giselle and the boy and go find him.”

I inclined my head in agreement. “What do we do about the force under Petrov’s command? Do we get him to withdraw?”

Tara shook her head. “No, it’s too early for that. Let’s find Arenson first. I won’t signal the retreat until we’re sure the councilor can do what we need him to.” She paused. “But even if we do locate Arenson immediately, it’s too risky for the eastern force to move out just yet. They will be better off waiting for dawn. I’ve already sent a messenger telling Petrov to stand down the men and let them get what rest they can before morning.”

I nodded, seeing the wisdom of that.

“I’ve also asked him to send reinforcements,” she added.

My brows lifted. “Reinforcements?”

“Another five squads of scouts,” Tara answered. “If we’re going to retake the entire village, we might need the help. While you and Giselle go look for Arenson, the rest of us will search for the remaining gang members.”

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. We’d killed about half the gang already, and there had to be at least another hundred elsewhere in the village. “The rebels could help with that,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps,” Tara allowed, “but I’m not ready to depend on them just yet.”

I couldn’t disagree. Until we found the councilor and secured the rebels’ cooperation, we had no confirmation that they would help us.

At the sounds of booted heels, I looked beyond Tara. Lance, Giselle, and John had moved to join us.

Tara glanced at the warren captain and raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“William is ready to go,” Giselle said, interpreting her look.

“The scouts you sent to check the eastern wall have returned,” Lance added. “The orc camp remains quiet.”

“That’s good news,” Tara said.

John was fidgeting with his helmet. “Gah,” he exclaimed, finally managing to wrench it off. “This damn suit stinks. Didn’t that bloody Gorkin ever clean it?”

The rest of us chuckled. “Don’t take it off just yet,” Tara said. “You’re going to need it again soon.”

The big spearman nodded grimly and gestured to the left side of the room. A group of fearful villagers sat there, staring at us. “What do we do with them?”

Tara’s humor faded.

There had been only two slaves in the dining area when we launched our attack, and thankfully, the scouts had pulled them out before the battle had kicked off in earnest. The rest of the huddled group were the cooks and servants rounded up from the kitchen, and the women brought down from above.

Unfortunately, more than half were still slaves. The gang members who held their contracts hadn’t been in the tavern. A simple analyze was all it took to distinguish a slave from a free player. But none of us were certain how far we could trust the villagers—freed or not.

For now, Tara had decided—and I’d agreed—to err on the side of caution and keep both slaves and freed villagers under guard. Until we’d take care of the gang and repudiated the orcs, we couldn’t afford to trust the villagers.

“I will speak to them,” Tara said quietly. She glanced at me. “You go on.”

I nodded and, beckoning Giselle to my side, went to fetch William.

It was time to find Arenson Tomahawk.

✽✽✽

We found William in the care of two scouts outside. I knelt by his side. “Let’s go find your grandfather.”

William, it turned out, didn’t know the councilor’s exact whereabouts, only that Arenson and the rebels were using an underground cave network to hide from the gang. The network was quite extensive and had multiple entry points, one of which was in William’s grandfather’s house.

Turning about, the boy led us on a weaving path through the streets. Thankfully, William headed west, away from the orcs’ camp. I wasn’t prepared to take chances, though. Removing Ash from my pocket, I sent her soaring aloft to keep watch.

The settlement was quiet, and the sky was pitch black. I judged we had at least four hours until dawn. More than enough time to do what we needed, I thought.

Finally, in the village’s northwest quarter, William stopped before a stone house indistinguishable from its neighbors. “This is it.”

I glanced at Giselle and nodded. The warren captain turned back to the two scouts that accompanied us and gave them their orders. The pair disappeared into the night.

“Where are they going?” William asked softly.

“To let the rest of our people know we’ve found your grandfather,” I replied just as quietly.

I gestured Giselle forward. Taking William’s hand in her own, she stepped up to the door and knocked on it. The boy had bonded more closely with her, and we both felt it wiser to make first contact with the rebels with William clearly visible.

No one answered.

Giselle knocked again, louder this time.

Once more, there was no response. Frowning, I studied the house. The windows were shuttered, and no light peeked out. Was it empty?

I was wondering whether to recall Ash and have her explore inside when William spoke up unexpectedly. “Daryl, Kara! Open up, it’s me.”

The boy’s voice echoed loudly in the surrounding silence. I froze and cursed William’s impulsiveness, but it was too late to take back his words. Nor could I truly blame him. He was excited to be back home. We should have warned him to be quiet.

Fearing someone would investigate, I scanned the darkness with both my own senses and Ash’s, but I spotted no movements with either. I relaxed. William’s cry had attracted no attention.

The door crept open, just a smidge.

My gaze whipped forward again. A face appeared in the narrow slit and turned downwards to study the boy clutching Giselle’s hand. The figure’s eyes widened, and the door opened further. It was a woman. Kara? I wondered.

“It’s him!” the woman called over her shoulder and disappeared back into the house. William made to rush in, but Giselle clamped a hand down and held him back. Over the boy’s head, our gazes met.

I nodded and stepped up to her side, readying my magic just in case the rebels’ reception was less cordial than we hoped. Straining my ears, I heard furious whispering coming from inside.

The seconds ticked by while the woman consulted with her unseen companions. I tried to eavesdrop, but their words were too faint for me to pick out.

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Kara kneeling, and a man standing behind her. “William, dearie!” Kara exclaimed. “Come here!”

William yanked on Giselle’s hand again. This time, she let him go, and the boy dashed into the woman’s waiting arms. Hugging William tightly to her, Kara rose to her feet, tears rolling down her face. Before anyone could stop her, she disappeared into the house again.

The man—Daryl, I guessed—slipped into the doorway, barring us from entry. “Who are you?” he demanded harshly. His eyes slid down, noting the hammer at Giselle’s hip and the weapon in my hand. He frowned on catching sight of the blackwood staff. No doubt it was not a weapon typically carried by the thugs, but he didn’t say anything.

“We are friends,” Giselle said.

Daryl snorted and folded his arms.

“We rescued William,” I added. “Surely that’s worth letting us in the door at least?”

Daryl maintained his scowl for a moment longer. Then with a shrug, he shifted out of the doorway and let us pass.

“Thank you,” I murmured and followed Giselle into the room. While Daryl closed the door, I took the opportunity to analyze him.

The target is Daryl, a level 34 human player. He has no Magic, mediocre Might, exceptional Resilience, and mediocre Craft.

I digested the information in silence. Like most Sanctuary’s residents, Darryl was below fifty level, but he was closer to the thugs’ own level than many other villagers. Just as importantly, he was not a slave.

Which meant he was likely a rebel.

I scanned the room. But for a single table, it was largely bare. There was also no sign of Kara or William. I frowned. Where had the two gone?

Daryl spun on his heel. “Come this way,” he said brusquely and brushed past us. Pushing on a section of wall, he revealed a second room.

We followed him inside. Wiliam and Kara weren’t there either and it, too, was mostly empty, covered only with a threadbare rug and a single bed. Darryl headed straight to the rug and pulled it aside to expose the trapdoor beneath.

A secret room within a secret room, I thought. Interesting. Heaving open the wooden hatch, Daryl pointed down. “Get in,” he said.

Giselle looked to me for direction, and I nodded for her to go on. This was why we were here, after all. Climbing down the ladder, we entered a dimly-lit basement. Turning around, I saw three figures: Kara, William, and a second man. The man, who was hugging the boy, was obviously William’s grandfather, Thursten.

Thursten was one of those rare individuals who had entered the Trials without a Clean Slate. With white hair and wrinkled skin, he appeared to be in his sixties. At our entrance, he looked up. I stepped forward and held out my hand. “Thursten, I presume?”

The man glanced down at my arm but did not take it. “I am,” he said. His gaze drifted to the boy whose arms were still wrapped around his waist. “William says you rescued him.”

“We did,” I replied, ignoring his phrasing.

“He also claims you killed Gorkin,” he said, openly skeptical now.

I folded my arms. “We did.”

Thursten shook his head. “I don’t believe that.” He laid an arm on his grandson’s shoulders, stopping the denial about to burst out of the boy. “I know William believes it, but I’m more… worldly, shall we say?”

Thursten’s expression hardened, and he nodded to Daryl, who slammed the trapdoor shut. “You two are trapped here now, and more of my colleagues are on their way over. Whatever happens from this point on, you two aren’t getting out.”

Daryl drew a concealed blade and advanced menacingly on us. Thursten did the same, wielding a mace of all things. Despite his age, the old man had a hard glint in his eyes and looked to be a capable fighter. “Now,” he said evenly, “tell me what Gorkin hopes to accomplish with this charade before Daryl and I are forced to get creative.”

“Grandpa, stop it!” William protested. “They’re telling the truth.”

Not taking his eyes off Giselle and me, Thursten waved Kara forward. “Take William into the tunnels,” he ordered.

The woman nodded and, pulling the boy to her, hurried towards a darkened entrance at the far end of the basement.

My eyes narrowed. Did that lead into the caves William had told us about? Beside me, I sensed Giselle tense. I held out my hand to stop her from acting. “You’re making a mistake, Thursten,” I said.

He smiled coldly. “Perhaps, but I will take that chance.”

I sighed. “Did you even bother analyzing us?”

Thursten’s lips tightened, but he said nothing.

“Do it,” I urged.

A moment later, I felt a tingle ripple over me, and Daryl gasped. “Thursten, he is level seventy-two and a mage!”

The old man frowned. “That can’t be,” he muttered, and a heartbeat later, a second interrogative ripple rolled over me. Thursten’s eyes widened.

I smiled and glanced at Daryl. “I’m going to take something out of my pocket,” I warned.

The two men stiffened. “Don’t—” Thursten commanded.

Ignoring him, I pulled out the settlement core by the necklace it still dangled from. “Do you recognize this?” I asked quietly.

Confusion flickered across the Thursten’s face for a moment. Then his eyes grew round. “The core,” he gasped. “How did you get it?”

Behind us, I sense Daryl tense. “Relax,” I said sharply before he could advance. I turned back to Thursten. “I told you, we killed Gorkin. We took this off his dead body.”

Thursten’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. “How?” he managed to get out finally.

“We didn’t do it alone,” Giselle said. “We had help.”

“William said that too, but where are the rest of these soldiers of yours?” Thursten asked.

“They’re searching the village.”

Thursten snorted. “Convenient,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound as skeptical anymore. He thought for a second. “But you haven’t claimed the settlement, have you?” His gaze darted from Giselle to me. “If you had, the Trials would have notified us. Why haven’t you?” he demanded.

I laid the settlement core gently on the floor because I answered. “Sanctuary is not free of the gang.” I paused. “And there is a bigger threat to worry about too. Claiming the settlement just yet would be premature.”

Thursten’s eyes narrowed. “The orcs. You’re talking about the orcs.”

“I am,” I replied. “We mean to keep them out of the village, and we need your help to do it.”

Thursten opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, a voice barked out of the darkness. “What’s going on here?”

Giselle and I spun around. There was another basement exit behind us and, pouring out of it, were dozens of fighters.