BTMG: Chapter 9 (Patreon)

A/N: Just a reminder that this is a fanfiction chapter, catch up on the beginning of this story Here! 

Next Chapter of Devil's Foundry will be out Tuesday.

Chapter 9: All the World’s a Stage

“How are our stores of bolts?”

Archer and I had somehow wormed our way into the planning commission by that very same afternoon.

Legate Juniper, the Grem One-Eye to Catherine’s Black Knight (or so I’d been told; the names were still mostly meaningless to me) flicked through a few rolls of parchment. “Enough to hold out for a few more days at the current rate.” She ran a thumb along the back of a tusk. “Arrows are harder to track because each home brought their own quivers, but we’ll soon run out I expect. I have Pickler’s sappers working on making more.”

“Wish I could be working on my trebuchet,” the goblin muttered. She would have gotten along great with Defiant, I thought. Always more interested in the machine than what it would be used to do.

For her part, Archer was slumped forward across the large table in manor headquarters. Ostensibly catching up on her sleep, I’d seen her dark eyes flick open when she thought no one was paying attention to her. She’d been invited to sit in after taking out the corrupted flesh tentacle this morning, which might have taken down the whole wall otherwise.

I was probably here because I’d managed to convince Archer that killing a demon would be good fun, before she took the Hunter back to their shared teacher. The names in this setting gave me a headache sometimes.

We were still outsiders, but perhaps that was the best for the moment.

“Make sure to coordinate with the heads of households.” Catherine herself stood by the large glass window overlooking the rest of Marcheford as the sun sank slowly back towards the horizon once more. “They’ll be making their own arrows as well.”

At Juniper’s right, Tribune Aisha Bishara, who’d first sent me to see the Squire all those weeks ago, raised an eyebrow. “With what lumber?”

“Whatever they can get their hands on.” Cat shrugged. “That’s why I want you to coordinate. The arrows will fly better if they’re not whittled from chairs and tables.”

“Callow,” Juniper muttered. It sounded like a curse.

Cat grinned. “Why do you think we held off the Tower for over a hundred years?” Well, plot contrivance, but that was neither here nor there. Unaware of my own inner dialogue, Catherine continued, “also, it’ll give you a reason to check up on… everyone.”

‘and make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings’ went unsaid.

Juniper grunted. “I’ll put someone on it. It would be easier to garrison this city if I wasn’t relying on the questionable loyalty of conscripts.”

“Just gotta do it until the demon finally shows up.” Catherine glanced over her shoulder towards me. “Speaking of, any word from our resident seer on when that’s going to be?”

“I’m no seer.” I leaned back in my chair. “But it will be tonight.” The blood moon had finally set some time this morning, and the sky dawned free and clear, but even that wasn’t enough to hide the scent of decay in the air.

The demon would come tonight.

“Think you can keep your people in line for one more night, Warlord?” Juniper asked.

Cat sighed. “That’s the scary part,” she replied. “I’m not sure if I’ll have to.” She turned back to the window. “It’s hard to imagine we’re here to put down a rebellion, with the people here getting on so well with the legion.” She pulled a face. “Especially the goblins.”

The other goblin in the room cackled. Not Pickler, the smaller goblin tribune was a scout through and through, and was appropriately named ‘Robber’. “We’re cut from the same cloth, Callowans and Goblins.” He grinned with a mouthful of sharp, needlelike teeth. “Don’t care about jumpin’ down the giant’s throat so long as it chokes on our bones.”

“You see why I’m worried,” Catherine said dryly.

“Just imagine if the Kingdom of Callow had discovered goblin fire instead,” I offered.

She shuddered. “Weeping Heavens, we’d have burned down the entire kingdom by now.”

“There, there.” Robber patted the (slightly) taller human on the elbow. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from us, but there’s a true goblin spirit burning bright inside of you.” He grinned wider. “Just give in to your pettiness and spite.”

“Already done, next step.” Catherine shoved him playfully. “We’re raised on a steady diet of that with our mother’s milk.”

“Ah.” Robber nodded sagely. “You need to stop drinking milk.”

“Ass.” She rolled her eyes. “If I find out we have another half company of Callowan scouts when we get out of here, I’m taking their pay out of your retirement.”

“Good thing goblins never retire!” Robber cackled again, dancing out of Cat’s reach as she tried to grab one of his pointy green ears.

Catherine made a rude gesture, before turning back to Juniper’s little knot of staff, including Hakram and the evocatively named Ratface. “Anything else we need to cover?”

Juniper shook her head. “The rest of our stores are still in good order. We don’t have the provisions to hold out against a siege, but if the demon does come soon, we’ll be fine.”

“Demons don’t think like people do,” Apprentice said from the far side of the room. He sat reclined on a battered ottoman across the table. We’d all taken his word that his preparations for the demon were finished. It’s not like anyone had the knowledge to double check is work.

Except, surprisingly, for Archer, but she was busy pretending to be asleep. The rest of the mages in the legion were busy charging parts of the working Apprentice had designed, or else were recovering her energy.

“I know.” Juniper gave the Apprentice a curt nod. “However, even if we do not expect deeper tactics from it, a prolonged siege…”

“If we end up in a siege, we just need to hold out long enough for Black to get here.”

Apprentice nodded. “Father and Uncle Amadeus will move quickly to squash a demonic incursion. I would like to handle it myself if possible, though; I rarely get the chance to study higher order demons.”

“Of course that’s what you’re concerned about,” Catherine muttered.

Apprentice blinked, “Is there something else to be worried about? If so, I would ask why I haven’t been made aware of it.”

Cat snorted. “I’m worried that things are going too smoothly.” She bit her lip. “Barely any casualties, everyone working together, when is the other shoe going to drop?”

To that, no one had any reply.

I tilted my head back, towards the dusty rafters of the ceiling. Catherine Foundling was beginning to see the shape of the story she was in. She was too used to being on the other side though. Villains had to fight through dramatic reversals, last second powerups, and all sorts of unfair bullshit. In a sense, it was most impressive that the Black Knight had managed to conquer Callow at all in the face of divine victory.

It made me wonder what the shape of his story was, what type of man it had forged.

In any case, Catherine didn’t understand the concept of an anti-hero, but it felt like this world clearly did. Demons, soulless, near thoughtless beings from beyond reality? There was an enemy that anyone could unite against. But while Cat had accepted my logic for a course of action, it was clear she hadn’t internalized it.

“Just make sure everyone sticks to singing Red the Flowers tonight,” I said, “and we should all make it through alright.”

“Why did Hakram even teach you that stupid song?”

“It was an information exchange.” Hakram gave a rumbling chuckle as he looked up for his scroll.

He was about to say something else when Archer jerked upright in her chair. “Gods below this is so booooring!”She glared around the room, almond eyes narrowing. “I’ve been waiting to spring this on someone all morning, and you’re all too busy talking about arrow stores?”

She waved around a clearly jerry-rigged trap that she’d been cradling in her lap, hidden by her cloak.

Catherine turned away from the window. “You’re bored because… no one messed with you while you were sleeping.”

Archer pouted, before blowing a raspberry. “Why else would I fake being asleep for so long?”

The entire room shared a collective glance before I let out a noise of understanding. “She thought this was going to be some kind of hazing ritual,” I said.

“Hazing?” Cat asked.

Archer waved a hand. “After I made you look bad on the wall.”

Cat rolled her eyes. “Yes, because that’s what I’m worried about right now.” She turned back towards the window. “If you kill the demon with that bow, you can make me look bad all you want.”

Archer grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Cat pressed her face into her hands and groaned.

“…So,” Robber asked. “What’s it do?”

“Hmm.” Archer hefted the booby trap in her hand. “This?”

Robber nodded. With a shrug, Archer tilted it forward and slit a thin wire.

With a twang, two wooden arms snapped shut, the force propelling a handful of arrowheads and sharp bits of metal across the room, flying a hairsbreadth over Robber’s head before digging into the far wall.

Catherine spun. “Choirs and Devils, why did you build something like that for a prank?!”

“Because I wanted to?”

Robber looked behind him, then back to the spent trap in Archer’s hands. “You’re not… gonna use that for anything, are you?”

With another shrug, Archer shoved it across the table to him. “It’s dead to me.”

With another cackle, Robber swiped the trap right before Catherine could smash it with her fist. It vanished like it had never been there, and Cat turned her glare on a cheerfully whistling Robber as he meandered away from the table.

“I’m going to demote you back to lesser lesser footrest if you keep this up.” She shook her fist at him, but the goblin ignored it entirely.

“I’ve got some new toys to share with the Callowan scouting division that totally doesn’t exist.” Robber gave a jaunty salute. “Talk to you all later!”

“Wait, you.” He darted out the door before Catherine could catch up with him, leaving her standing in the doorway.

Archer gave a little wave as Cat turned back towards the room with a sour expression on her face. I wonder if she was expecting some sort of retribution now, given that her hand rested lightly on the handle of a dagger, hidden right beneath the lip of the table.

In any case, Cat just rolled her eyes. “Next time you’re bored, just skip the hells-damned meeting.” Then she shoved the door open again.

“Where are you going, General?” Bishara asked.

Cat let out a bark of laughter. “To make sure Robber doesn’t blow us all up.” She started out the door with a purpose, pausing just long enough to call over her shoulder, “And to make sure every tavern in the wretched town sings Red the Flowers all night long!”

And then she was gone.

I felt a sort of tension leave the air. If I had to name it, it was the feeling of the main character exiting stage left.

To my left, Archer slumped in her seat once more. “Bored again.”

“You know,” I said, “if you want some way to pass the time. Hakram has this game of his…”

A chorus of groans rose up from the room. We’d played far too much of Dread on the march. Apprentice, of course, perked up. “This will be a perfect time to test my own additions to the game,” he said. “As you asked, I’ve written up my rulings for workings, and made some clear addendums to how they should be factors into the current rules.”

He pulled out three full scrolls, each at least as thick as his arm, and set them on the table in front of Hakram.

“Well, shit,” Archer said, “if this is the bonus rules, I can’t wait to see the full game.”

“Please don’t encourage her.” Hakram rubbed the bridge of his nose with fingers of bone. “I barely feel as if this game belongs to me anymore.”

“You just invented it, Hakram,” I replied. “Of course it doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to talk enough people into playing this time around, though Archer did swipe the extended rules from Hakram and start going through them. Soon enough, people started to break to pursue their own duties, and I followed.

I stepped out into the hall, turning the corner towards the stairs, when the sound of voices behind me suddenly cut out.

I stopped.

Behind me, a woman’s voice.

“What are you doing here?”