Feral Mage: Chapter 6 - part 2

The snow crunched under the hoof of Callie’s horse. Already the snow was starting to thin as they made their way out of the snow-covered mountains of the north. She had formed a small team to accompany her on this diplomatic mission to the Red Pine Kingdom. The bare minimum the Duchess would allow her to take.

Riding beside her right was Erica, a forest elf who would be their guide within the Kingdom. Erica was currently bundled in a massive fur jacket that still failed to keep the forest elf from shivering. Her dark hair peeked from the mass of fur around her head.

Cade rode on her left. He was a decent snow elf foot soldier that Callie knew to be dependable. He also was not from the Frozenveil or its vassals, so he held no allegiance to the Duchess. Someone she didn’t have to worry about trying to slit her throat in the middle of the night.

Their riding had been relatively silent, Cade mostly kept to himself and Erica couldn’t stop shivering long enough to utter a word. Only the sound of the horses’ hoofs crunching snow greeted their ears. As their day progressed, the thick pines of the northern mountains started to thin to forests of hardwoods. The road started to improve and they soon spotted their first signs of the civilized world.

 “Looks like an inn up ahead,” Cade said breaking the silence.

 “Oh, thank the divine!” Erica’s teeth chattered.

 Callie frowned slightly, she would rather keep pushing forward and make camp among the wilds. She was also made of tougher stuff than her companions and knew if Cade was pointing out the inn that they both were near their breaking point.

 “We can rest there for the night,” Callie said trying to hide the irritation in her voice. “The horses could use some tending.”

 The inn was a large two-story building made from hardwood that rested at a crossroads between the human and elven lands. The style of the building reflected that as she noticed both the rougher style of the human frontier folk and more traditional elvish. The bastard structure stood, though Callie didn’t consider its architecture pleasing to the eye.

 A stable boy met them as they arrived at the inn and quickly took their horses. Callie gave him two coppers with instructions to ensure the horses were fed, brushed and their shoes checked. Once the lad had repeated the instructions back to her three times, they made their way into the inn. The smell of ale and food greeted her, as did the voices of drunkards too deep in their cups. The communal space of the inn was lively as one would expect.

“Charming place,” Erica said without a smile. “Hopefully we can sleep through the sound.”

“After the ride we had I don’t think that will be a problem,” Cade stated as he stretched his back.

Callie ignored them and made her way to the innkeeper, an old haggard elven woman.

“Two rooms and three hot meals,” Callie said as she placed coins on the table.

The elven woman looked at the coins and frowned at her.

“You with the lot that started the war up north?” she asked with a sour tone.

“Yes, we are in service to Duchess Frozenveil,” Callie answered.

The haggard elven woman spit on the floor when she mentioned the Duchess’s name.

“We don’t serve the minions of that child killer here,” the innkeeper said.

“We are on an important mission, your assistance would be appreciated,” Callie said doing her best to keep her temper in check.

The innkeeper laughed

“Important mission, who the hell do you think you are?” she asked with a snarl.

Callie looked up and met the woman’s eyes.

“The Frozen Rose,” she said.

The inn went silent at her words, except for one fool who was singing some drinking song. The innkeeper’s face paled as his snarl shifted to a panic expression.

“I’m sorry Lady Queenshield, I meant no disrespect. Please, the rooms and the meals for you and your companions are free during your stay,” the innkeeper said.

Callie took the keys to the rooms from the shaking hand of the innkeeper.

“Thank you,” she replied as she turned back to the communal space of the inn.

The lively room was now bleak as all the patrons stopped their activities and avoided her gaze. All except three. Cade and Erica had found a table and were discussing something in hushed whispers as they looked around. The third was a dwarf who was singing a song while deep in his tankers. Callie almost disregarded the man as just a simple drunkard. Then her eye caught the shimmer of metal that hung from his neck.

She made her way to his table, ignoring Cade and Erica, as she took a seat.

“Welcome miss,” the dwarf said cheerily. “I’d offer you a drink, but my tanker is almost dry.”

The dwarf said with rosy cheeks as he continued his song. Some off-tune tale about seven brothers and a giant woman. He was well into his tankards, but Callie was looking at the necklace around his neck. It was a small rectangle and unadorned, but it was the same as the one Bryce wore, except made of iron.

“You’re a mercenary?” she asked.

The dwarf smiled as his hands went to the dog tag around his neck.

“That I am,” he said proudly. “It’s a good job to pay for my drinks.”

Callie gave a nod.

“I suppose you know other mercenaries?” she asked.

“Of course!” the dwarf said before stretching out his hand to her. “My name is Darren.”

Callie took the hand and shook it.

“Callie,” she said.

“Beautiful name, Callie, it’s a pleasure to meet you! What can I do for you?”

The drunken dwarf hummed to himself.

“I met a mercenary recently,” Callie said as she pointed to the dwarf’s tags. “He told me his name was Bryce. Do you know him?”

There was a brief moment of seriousness in the dwarf’s eyes before he let out a laugh.

“Oh, I know of him. Though not personally,” Darren said. “He works alone, usually taking risky jobs.”

The dwarf tapped his empty mug of ale and Callie got the meaning.

“Innkeeper! Ale for my friend,” she said.

The innkeeper arrived quickly with a mug for the dwarf, which he gladly took. He downed a quarter of it before setting it on the table.

“Ah!” Darren said with a smile. “That’s the good stuff!’

Callie leaned closer to the dwarf.

“What do you know about him?” she demanded.

Darren smiled and sipped his ale.

“Bryce? Earned himself several nicknames over the years and hates every one of them. Most mercenaries would tote them around as something to be proud of, making people more likely to hire them. Not Bryce, though, he prefers the nicknames are never attached to him. Or so I’m told,” Darren said as he took another swig from his tanker.

“What kind of nicknames?” Callie asked.

“The Carrion-maker, Wraith of the Crooked Path—”

Callie grabbed the tanker of ale and pulled it away from the dwarf.

“I think you’re too deep into your cup. You’re telling me the names of monsters,” Callie said with a frustrated sigh. She should have known better to listen to the ramblings of a drunkard.

The dwarf tried to grab the tanker back, but it crossed the threshold of his reach before he could.

“Oh he’s a monster, and those are his nicknames.” the dwarf said with a laugh. “I believe his most recent nickname is The Demon of the North. Though I like to call him The Bastard since he stole the contract I was hoping for during the war up north. Assembled a crew for it and the damn guild master gave it to him! I came here in hopes of snagging it if he got himself killed. Though my crew said it was pointless, two of them knew him.”

Callie narrowed her eyes at the dwarf and her hand slipped to her sword. The dwarf watched her with a smile and shook his head.

“I’m not being paid any coin, so you have nothing to worry about from me. Not like I want to pick a fight with The Frozen Rose,” Darren said as he pointed at the tanker. “In fact, I might be a friend. I overheard you’re on a mission and I just so happen to be looking for a new contract.”

Callie slid the tanker back to the dwarf.

“Enough riddles, you want the job? I want what you know about Bryce,” Callie demanded.

The dwarf downed the tanker and tapped the piece of metal around his neck.

“These things do more than just mark our rank in the Mercenary Guild. They’re enchanted. The tag makes a record on the metal if you break the guild’s guidelines, such as revealing too much of another merc’s abilities. At least directly.” Darren said.

“Then take the damn thing off and tell me,” Callie said.

Darren shook his head.

“I can take it off, but can’t go no more than twenty paces from it. Otherwise, it’s another mark on the metal and the guild gets pissy. Also, I’ve given you plenty of hints as to what he is, if you’re paying attention and know your mages,” Darren stated as he looked into the empty tanker.

Callie frowned as the dwarf’s words dredged up memories of her fight with Bryce.

“Mage? He fought with a sword…”

Callie’s voice trailed off, her thoughts connecting dots with the dwarf’s words. Bryce had poisoned her with a single scratch. The Duchess’s soldiers thought it was a monster hunting the supply lines. Even giving it the nickname, Demon of the North.

“He’s an Aspect mage…” she said.

She had wondered how a mere human had kept up with her.

“I take it that’s the fancy name for Feral Mage,” Darren said with a smile. “I hope you will keep your end up. Need work to pay for more booze.”

Callie’s hand pulled out some coins and slapped them down on the table before the dwarf.