Chapter 21

 

A forest. Johan was in a forest. The Dunkwald, judging by the dense canopy above him. It was transitioning to fall, and the leaves were taking on a beautiful assortment of colors. His carriage was heading back to Bickenstadt after a vacation in the Bvarian Alpes. Overall, he was content. He didn’t particularly want to be a baron, but if doing so meant he was able to take vacations like this, he didn’t mind.

“The colors are so beautiful this time of year, I wish Rauchburg had this.”

“Such is the price of industry, dear. You know I have been thinking of doing something similar to Bickenstadt.”

“Please don’t, I just got used to the lack of soot on everything, it’s kind of nice.”

Johan smiled softly as he tore his eyes away from the gorgeous scenery.

“No industry for us I suppose. Shame really, your father has really got something going on there.”

Sabine smiled warmly and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to soak in the rays let in by the sunroof.

“Alright, you can have a little industry, a textile mill or two. Enough to mass produce shoes, perhaps?”

“My, how generous of you.”

Johan was, of course, going to industrialize as soon as possible. That was originally the purpose of their engagement, after all. To learn the secrets behind Waffenstadt’s prosperity. But it very quickly turned into something genuine. His father really chose well for him, all things considered. Or perhaps he just got lucky, it really made no difference to him either way. They were compatible and that was all he needed to know. At first courting her was a pain, of course, she was much more work than a barmaid or some peasant girl, all you needed for them was to be vaguely charming and attractive. But she was smart, smarter than him if she was to be believed, and unbelievably beautiful on top of that. The fact that they had a child together just added extra points to her total. If only we could’ve brought Wolfgang with us, he thought sadly, He’s the only thing that could make this moment better.

He glanced at her as she hummed softly to herself.

Unbelievably perfect, Johan thought to himself. He turned back to gaze out the window, absolutely content. The only thing he needed now was for someone to kill him so this would be the last thing he remembered.

Just as Johan was settling back into his seat, he heard a loud thump. The guard next to his carriage had fallen out of his saddle.

“Uh, that’s no good.”

He reached to open the door when an arrow embedded itself in his window. He recoiled and let out an involuntary yelp as the tip touched his cheek. Just a little more penetration and it would have drawn blood.

“Sabine get down!”

She was already on the floor, her window having its own assortment of arrows trying to crack through the glass. Johan took after her and quickly threw himself down, drawing his dagger as he poised to attack whoever opened the door. He wasn’t the greatest fighter in the world, but he wasn’t the worst either. He hoped.

The sounds of fighting outside were horrific, he could clearly hear his guard’s armor being pierced all around him. It was a pretty distinct noise, and he doubted whatever bandits were attacking them were equipped with plate like his guards. The sounds of combat slowly petered out around him, which was either a good sign or a deeply troubling one. He adjusted the grip on his dagger and smiled as he heard the click of Sabine’s pistol. Whoever they were, they would not be taking them alive.

“God damnit I wasn’t serious!” Johan muttered to himself.

Sabine looked to him questioningly but quickly went back to watching the door as she heard footsteps approaching. Johan frowned and quietly assessed his dagger. He wished his father would have bought him a pistol. He didn’t particularly care if they were ‘cowardly’, they were effective and that’s all he cared about.

As soon as the carriage door opened, he launched himself forward, stabbing down at his attacker as hard as he could. His attacker simply and easily caught his wrist with the beard of his handaxe, swiftly grabbing him by the neck and dragging him out of his carriage. Johan hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of his lungs and the dagger out of his hand. The bandit put his knee on Johan’s chest and his axe to his neck.

“Don’t move.” He croaked out, his voice rough as a grindstone, with a deep groaning quality similar to that of large wooden buildings.

Johan smiled as he heard the crack of a gunshot and the scream of a man who just earned a hole in his chest, and then began to panic as he heard the sounds of Sabine being thrown out of the carriage.

“Rainart, bring him over. They got Oskar. I’m gonna play a little game to...lesson my grief.”

Rainart grunted in acknowledgment and lifted Johan like he weighed nothing at all, tossing him to the ground on the other side of the carriage.

Johan’s eyes darted around to find anyone alive or still fighting, but was greeted with the sight of his guards dead and dying, spread all about the forest. Johan looked back to bandits in front of him and saw a man who seemed to be their leader crouching on the balls of his feet next to Sabine, a dagger held lazily in his hand.

“Hello there,” he said with a smile, “Someone wants you dead.” His voice was light and frivolous. His delivery betraying no malice despite the situation he was in.

Johan opened his mouth to ask who, but the man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother asking who, I take no chances. My name is Andreas, by the way. Well, not really, but, you know, you need something to call me.” Andreas took his dagger and absentmindedly placed the tip at Sabine’s neck.

“I do want to make this quick, but she killed one of us, and my boys will not let a slight like that go unpunished. But, I like to think of myself as a man of-” he looked around to the dead guards and chuffed.

“Well, relative honor. So, how about this. You tell me something interesting, and I’ll kill you quickly.”

Rainart opened his mouth to complain, but a single cold glace from Andreas shut him up quickly. He stood up slowly, dragging his dagger up Sabine’s head, leaving a very shallow trail of gore through her face. His dagger was obviously incredibly sharp.

“I understand you boys want to have some fun and all, but I quite frankly find that distasteful. Of course I’m not gonna stop you if neither of them have anything interesting for me, but still.”

Sabine looked angrily to Andreas and spat in his direction. He stared at the saliva on the ground, his sarcastic half-smile never faltering.

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Come on now, let’s all be adults here.”

“I’m not going to be respectful to the man talking about raping me.”

Andreas seemed to think carefully on this, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. After a frustratingly long time he shrugged his shoulders and sheathed his dagger.

“Fair enough, I doubt I would be particularly happy in your situation either. So, got anything interesting for me?”

Sabine scowled and gestured backward with her head.

“In my back pocket, there is a tube with a cord attached to it, a prototype from my dad's workshop.”

Andreas grinned gleefully and reached into her pocket, quickly extracting the thing she described.

“Now this is interesting. Almost as interesting as a dress with pockets such as yours, surprised it's not more common to be honest. What’s it do?”

“Point the red side to the sky and pull the cord, it’s easier to demonstrate than describe it.”

Andreas shrugged and did as he said, releasing a giant red ball of fire into the sky. It burned long and bright, like nothing any of them had ever seen before.

“Now that’s a pretty color. I like it. hmmm..."

Andreas stopped to think for a moment, looking to Sabine with slightly angier smile on his face.

“Do tell, girly, what is this used for?”

“It’s called a firework. We recently started using them in festivals, if you add certain materials to the mixture the color changes.”

Andreas’s slight anger melted away instantly, returning to his previous constant half smile.

“Now that is interesting! Any idea how it’s made?”

“No, my father refused to tell me...”

Sabine trailed off as he looked down to her chest. Andreas’s dagger was wedged firmly in her heart.

“See? I said I’d do it quick, didn't I? Barely even felt it.”                              

The Baron saw red. All he could feel was a deep sense of rage. Rage, huh? Haven’t felt that in a while. The Baron could feel Andreas’s vertebrae creaking as he tightened his grip. This is nice. Much better than depression. It almost feels good, in a strange way. He drew his pistol on Rainart as he moved to protect his leader. Well, not good, per say, but different. Different from despair. What an interesting feeling. Very complex. Very unique.

“Perhaps I should write a book, huh Andreas? Would take my mind off you for a bit.”

The Baron saw the fear in her eyes as he increased the pressure, her spine wouldn’t be able to take much more. Wait...a woman?

The Baron’s eyes finally focused and he remembered where he was. The Dunkwald was over hundreds of miles away. He made eye contact with the maid he was strangling, confused.

“Um, who exactly are you?”

The Baron waited for a response and remembered what he was doing. He looked her over quickly. Her feet were not touching the ground. Oh my god her feet aren’t touching the ground!

He quickly released her and she gasped in ragged, wheezing breaths. She immediately backed up into the corner of the room, desperately trying to make distance between them.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry! Are you ok? I didn’t crush your windpipe did I?”

The Baron panickily raised his arms to show he meant no harm, but the maid just ran out of the room clutching her neck, desperately pushing past the gawking onlookers.

“Oh my god! I have to make it up to her somehow! You there! Make sure she never wants for anything again!”

The Baron turned to address his secretary and was greeted with the bestial face of Gaius. Finally, the events of the past week returned to him, as well as the events of the past few years. And the years before that. And the ones before those as well. He could remember everything. Oh god I can remember everything!                                                    The Baron keeled over and blew chunks all over the ornate rug of his guest suite. His head was pounding, far worse than the pain he felt after taking a bullet to the head. Gaius took a step towards him and the Baron turned to address him, bent over with his hands still on his thighs.

“Oh god please give me opiU-”

He spewed the rest of the contents of his stomach on Gaius’s shoes. Oh, right, he doesn’t wear shoes, he has hooves.

“Gaius! Give me anything! Oh god! My head!”

The Baron continued throwing up, much to his confusion. At this point he shouldn’t have anything left to throw up!

“Futuere! Cevere! Someone send for a mage! A healing mage! Get that Elwen physician in here!”

“Ipse est in feriatun, Domine!”

“Futue te ipsum, fatuus! Get the other guy then!”

Gaius threw the bottle of Garum sitting on the desk at the man and he quickly scurried out to find a mage.

“In the meantime, wine! Get something undiluted! The man is in pain for Flavo's sake!”

“Aye got something ‘e likes!”

Fergus pushed through the crowd and immediately began pouring the Baron a large glass of Cognac, which the Baron gulped down greedily. Fergus smiled weakly and handed him the bottle, which the Baron downed in a matter of seconds, quickly collapsing back into his bed. He glanced at the empty bottle and covered his eyes with his forearm.

“That’s not gonna do me any favors when I wake up. Also didn’t help.”

A small stout man ran into the room. He wore a red and blue cioppa with a leather apron covering it. On his head he wore a red beret with a golden flower pinned to the front. On his hands were large black leather gloves, the second knuckles on his left glove had coarse stone diamonds attached, and the right glove had a stone bowl on the palm. Hanging on the waist of his green hose were various medical implements such as knives and syringes, as well as small pouches containing various herbs.

“Whata he needs, huh? Hisa pain magical or physical?”

His voice was bouncy, middling in pitch, and very, very Italian. The reminder that dwarves were Italian almost distracted the Baron from his pain. Almost.

“...Mmagical. I think. Probably physical too.”

The Baron croaked out. He touched a finger to his forehead and felt dried blood. Definitely physical.

“Alaright den! Alla I hava to do isa mixa da herbs together anda usea my magic!”

The dwarf quickly got to work mixing his herbs, grabbing them with his left hand and placing them in his right palm, crushing them with the stones on his second knuckles and pouring the mixture into a cup of water.

“Drinka dis! Aftera dat I willa use a coupla spells to maka you feel better!”

The Baron did as he was told and the dwarf took out chalk and a dried poppy seedpod, drawing a circle with incredibly complicated symbols all pointing to the middle of the circle, where he placed the seedpod. The crowd in the room looked over the dwarf’s shoulder, a fairly easy thing to do considering his height, and some of them started to ask questions.

“Oh, I usa da ritual to performa my magic. Da ritual maka da magic stronger! I burna da poppy while infusing da circle witha my energy, da pain willa go away whila hisa mental faculties staya intacta! Mucha better dan opium!”

The dwarf pulled out a match and struck it on his knuckles, lighting the seedpod as he touched the circle with his other hand. As the pod burned the circle glowed a pale pink and the poppy’s flame began to waver slightly, the dwarf drawing away the energy from the fire and pushing it into the circle.

As soon as the poppy burned out the Baron sat up in his bed, no longer groaning or clutching his head.

“Well, I suppose I should thank you, master dwarf. What is your name?”

The dwarf smiled and triumphantly pointed to himself with his thumb.

“Da nama is Leonardo! Leonardo de Medicinale!”

“Well then, Leonardo, I owe you a favor. It is not a small thing to be owed a favor by a baron of the Empire, so choose to cash in on that favor only after careful deliberation. And when you do decide to cash in said favor just come to Bickenstadt castle, we will host you with full honors!”

The dwarf smiled brightly, but immediately tried to hide it and put on a neutral expression.

“Justa doing my joba. Nota like your life was in danger or anything.”

“Oh, alright. Then I retract that offer.”

Leonardo raised his palms in a placating gesture.

“Let usa nota geta too hasty now! As soon as my term ina Caprae Loco is up, I willa work for you, is thata good? I heara your mercenary company paysa da best in da world, no?”

“Of course! Only the best for my men!”

“Gooda. Nica meeting you, Baron.”

“The honor is all mine, Leonardo de Medicinale.”

Leonardo bowed and stepped out of the room, ushering the crowd out as he went, leaving just The Baron, Fergus, and Gaius. Fergus grabbed the bottle of brandy to pour himself a glass, and was horrified to find it was empty, setting it down gently like he was laying an old comrade to rest.

“Gaius, where dae they keep-”

“Sorry, but I have more important things to discuss. Baronis, I feel bad for causing this. Allow me to work for you.”

“My, how forward. Any particular reason you want to work for me besides simply feeling bad?”

“Well, the names of mercenary companies equal to yours could be counted on one hand, and I have yet to meet with their leaders yet, so this seems like the best opportunity.”

“I suppose that’s as good as any reason I could think of. Do you have experience leading armies or fighting?”

“I have led bands of 50 to hunt down bandits around Caprae Loco a couple of times. Other than that I have been taking orders more often than giving them.”

“That is fine, one of my Lieutenants prefers to fight on the front lines. He’s actually one of the people I brought with me, Udo. Speaking of which, where the hell is he?”

Fergus shrugged his shoulders.

“Probly sleepin’”

“I could be dead for all he knows.”

“‘E said 'He’ll be alright, the old man’s tough’, an’ went tae bed.”

The Baron grimaced and rubbed at his forehead in exasperation.

“I appreciate the confidence, but he really should have been here…Whatever. Gaius, am I still meeting with the senate today?”

“That is up to you, Baronis.”

“Excellent, then I will go to meet with them now. Go inform them I am coming in say, two hours, and inform you father you will be moving to Bickenstadt to work with me. Fergus, wake Udo and take him to the senate building, I will meet you there. In the meantime, I need to wash up and get dressed.”

Gaius and Fergus voiced their acceptance and went to carry out their duties while the Baron headed over to the bathhouse.

"Wonder if the bath will make the emotional pain go away?"

He started fiddling with the firing mechanism of his pistol.

"Hm, this could probably take it away pretty qui...no no no. I need to get my head straight. I have work to do. After I've made the world a better place, then I can finally find peace."

He looked out the window in the direction of his homeland.

"Perhaps I'll burn down that god forsaken forest, in honor of Sabine."

The Baron grabbed a fresh set of clothes and sighed as he threw them over his shoulder.

"thirty years, it's been thirty years since that day. I threw everything into training myself so such a thing would never happen again."

He turned and saw his reflection in the mirror. He was old. His hair had far more gray than it did at the beginning of the year. He had great big bags under his eye, and his skin was leathery and dehydrated. The scar on his nose was very prominent. A reminder that one could never train too much.

"I look like shit. Wonder what Sabine would say if she could see the state I'm in. maybe she'd comment about how buff I am, how strong I've become or something."

Deep down, the Baron knew exactly what she would say to him at this moment: Take a bath. You look like shit.