The Butcher of Gadobhra

Chapter 567: Flexible Heroes

"This is going to be awesome!"

Chartok could barely control his excitement as he, Ben, and Goodboy observed a miserable caravan of Ice Wizards, Northern Paladins, and their assorted minions as they trudged through the mud. There was little rejoicing as they finally arriving at Northguard. Or what was left of Northguard, Ben observed. One large tower was still standing, but the rest of it was rubble. Peering through his spyglass, Ben was surprised to see what could only be Contract Workers hefting huge stones from the rubble and repairing the ramparts of the tower. Some of their uniforms bore the Alchemarx logo on them. That also surprised him. He'd expected that after the corporation was kicked from Genesis, they would be too. But, thinking of his own contract, he wondered. They signed up for five years, and leaving early lost them healthcare and a large bonus that was already sitting in escrow for them. If they had a choice, it was better for them to stay here. How Northguard was still standing made more sense. Further thoughts were ignored as he watched a large, black, Snarlfang dance around like a puppy, hardly able to contain himself.

"Get excited Benjamin! The awesome part starts soon."

"We have a couple dozen powerful Ice Wizards and hundreds of Northern Paladins, all of whom are incredibly angry and looking for someone to kill. Add to that a traitorous Baron with an ancient artifact that will win the war for Winter, and I'm more worried than excited. Excuse me if I'm not understanding the awesome part. Maybe you can explain that too me?"

Chartok did one last roll in the snow, and sat on his haunches in front of Ben. The Courier found it a little disconcerting that the wolf was still tall enough sitting down that his mouth was above Ben's head. Sparkling white fangs that could crush a bull's skull with ease were far too close to his face. He did have to admit, though, that Chartok was vain enough to care for his teeth. He'd convinced Rolly somehow into giving them a cleaning and polishing each week. Rolly had been happy to become his personal dentist.

"Of course I don't mind. Isn't that part of the deal?"

"It is?"

"Certainly. Oh, we didn't spell out the fine details that lovely day in front of Sedgewick, but to an old monster like me, it seemed obvious. You, a clever hero, have tricked a powerful creature into doing something to further our mutual causes. You'll come along as an observer and helper, and by playing the simpleton, get me to talk about my plans and reveal secrets to you. It also puts you in a position to subtlety influence me and keep me on track to accomplish the mission. You're doing a great job, by the way. Without constant little reminders, nightly airdrops of delicious dinner, a personal dentist, and your skill with a currycomb, I might have gotten off track. That always gets me in trouble."

A chill went down Ben's spine. This was a level of self-awareness he hadn't seen from Chartok before. He also got the hint about the currycomb and pulled it out of his pack to begin work on Chartok's pelt. The wolf really was vain and after seeing Ben cleaning Goodboy's fur, had remarked how he envied the typical Paladin's mount with a gaggle of grooms to clean its coat and polish its hooves. Somehow Ben had found himself using his Courier skills each night on both undead Snarlfangs, brushing and cleaning their fur until it shined.

Chartok continued as Ben got to work. "So, you mentioned their anger, and that is a key component I've been working on. You need a mix of anger, despair, and wounded pride to really bring a Paladin to the proper boil, where his brain shuts down. These shiny boys are coming along nicely. The Ice Mages are far past that, fragile egos and too much pride in themselves will do that, but I can work with it. Their bad attitudes are feeding into the Paladins and I can count on them for poor judgement. To add to this mix, I've been working hard to make my spells come from the direction of Northguard. Even the dimmest of Ice Wizard's will notice and realize old Pinchpenny isn't just a butterfly collector. This little parley could fall apart even without me doing anything else."

"Agreed, but what else are you planning?"

"Ah, there's the clever hero popping up again. Don't think I haven't noticed your interest in that artifact. Stealing it from Pinchpenny and keeping it away from Winter is your primary goal, but I'm sure the Emperor would sleep better if a crafty old wolf like me didn't have it. Too bad. I love shiny things, and there's an empty shelf in my collection that it will take up. You just never know what will come in handy in the future."

The chill down Ben's spine grew colder, but he kept combing and kept his voice calm. "Wise words. House Franklin has several fast ships in every port in case we need to beat a hasty retreat over conflicting politics. The main house would be terrible to lose, of course, but like any good lair, we can lock it up tight before we leave by a back door. And we don't keep our shinies where the Emperor's tax men can get hold of them."

The wolf nodded his huge head, "I forget you have to deal with those thieves. Another good reason to be an outlaw like myself, no taxes. But it sounds like your family is a little less squeaky clean than the average hero?"

Ben shrugged, "There are successful heroes, and heroes that adhere to strict and unyielding moral code. I, and seemingly most of my house, would rather be successful than rigid. I've run into a few Shining Paladins before. Did I ever tell you the story of how Ozzy ripped off an arm from a paladin and beat him with it?"

That got Chartok's attention. "Sounds fun! That's the rather large fellow that threw huge sticks at me in our first meeting? I saw him glaring at me from the walls. That's a dangerous one! Some of my fur got singed just from him looking at me!" He paused, and sniffed, and Ben was astonished to see a tear roll down from the wolf's eye. "I'm just so proud of all of you! Some of my best work, ever!"

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Ben was so confused, he quit combing. "Uh? Proud of us?"

"Well of course! Don't you see it? Part of my role in the world is creating heroes. Also eating chickens, confounding Inquisitors, and destroying paladins that annoy me. Usually it's a young lad or lass that catches me with my face in a chicken coup and starts a fight with an old rusty sword. A classic! I get my head cut off and come back weaker a few days later, and they get a letter to attend a college, or an older warrior takes them under their wing. You don't get heroes without adversity, and that's where I come in."

"You supply the adversity."

"Excellent, got it in one. Now think back to when you and your little friends took a trip to Bunny Hill. I must say, I almost didn't challenge you, the four of you were so pathetic. Imagine, losing to Fat Rabbits with the four of you surrounding the poor things and beating on them, four on one. I was dying trying not to howl with laughter. I finally couldn't take it any longer though, and decided to give you a bigger challenge. Glad that I did, it was a glorious little fight, with a double-kill at the end. I was a little upset to find out about the Underdog Clause that gave you the win, but you did manage to kill me. And that was enough to send you on your way to becoming the heroes you are today. "

Ben hadn't ever thought of things in that light. "Ah, so you're proud of us?"

"Of course I am! And I'm sure that when you write your memoirs, you'll all make sure to credit me with your start on glory road."

Ben couldn't help but notice the undercurrent of malice in that statement. "Ah, yes. Now that I think about it, you're right."

"Good. Glad we're in agreement about that. Now, tell me this arm ripping story, before you and Good Boy scamper off."

"What? The main event is about to happen. I thought you wanted me to chronicle your exploits."

The Wolf shook himself and turned to look at Ben, his eyes deep, black pools. "It is, and that's why you'll be a mile or two away, watching rom a hill. You're too much of a hero, Benjamin. And far too clever. You'll at least try to help, or worse, try to steal that item for your team. Understandable, but this is a pot that doesn't need two cooks. I'm sure you understand, all too well."

"Dammit, that's not the deal."

The wolf showed his teeth. "You can either watch from a hilltop, or from inside my belly. Let's look at the odds. A holy-fire-tossing hero vs. two Snarlfangs, one of them being a powerful necromancer, and in control of a few thousand undead wolves. Oh, you'd hurt me, but you don't have a magic pony, and we're within lunging distance. Please, let's not spoil this partnership with needless heroics. I'm going to steal that artifact and kill everyone in Northguard or besieging it. That's a big win for you. And tell you what? While I'm overflowing with my recent victories, we'll discuss where that little casket ends up. You can try and talk me out of using it to torment Diego and that man sitting on the shiny throne. How's that?"

Ben let out a long sigh. "I guess I'll take the hill."

Chartok grinned, "Excellent. See, a less flexible hero would have stood his ground and died." Goodboy's rough tongue licked Ben's face, and he reached up to scratch the white Snarlfang's ears. Plans already spinning in his head, which he was sure Chartok was already anticipating.

At Northguard, Baron Pinchpenny let his hand lightly touch the Casket in front of him. He hated to give up any of his hoard, but this artifact of an old war would buy him survival in the coming age, and the sustenance he desperately craved. Winter wasn't squeamish about small things like how people died. When the armies broke down the gates of Wolfsburg, there would be hordes of desperate defenders for him to feast upon, and show his allegiance to Winter.

Mostly feast. His hunger was growing, and without a steady supply of peasantry to feast upon, his food supply was limited. He cursed his past self for stupidly getting rid of his food source. He might even be able to get a bit to eat, now that the Winter envoys had arrived. Some of their soldiers were decrepit wretches in rags and rusted armor. They'd brought their cannon fodder along, for some reason, or maybe in anticipation of his needs? That would be excellent forethought on their part, and would go a long way to making this deal work. He'd been worried, and wondering what had taken them so long, but Hoss had told him of the strange storms plaguing the route south. The weather was crappy everywhere it seemed. Now that they were here, he looked forward to a bit of negotiation, a meeting of minds, and then a discussion of how he could help conquer the Empire. He'd warmed to the thought of working for someone else, it was freeing in some ways, and he could rest while feeding to fill the emptiness inside of him. As the Winter party advanced, he sent a mental command to the few minions he had left, and they lowered the drawbridge. He sat back, patiently awaiting them.

Below, Glacia threw her last good cloak around her shoulders, using it to hide the sad state of her garments. Then she turned to the council. "Follow, and stay silent, the six of us will ascend to parley with the Baron. At any false move, or at a signal from me, we kill this madman and take his treasure. I don't know what game he is playing, but it ends here."