CHAPTER 2.03 – MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE CAMP
Predictably, Thae is the first to break. Until that point, conversation had been muted, in part suppressed by the horrible weather and their dearth of information. What conversation they had had centred around sitting in the deluge. Rian was against moving any distance from where Hugo expected them to be, reasoning that the halfling might already struggle to retrace his steps exactly. Sourly, but internally, Anuk questions why that isn’t a problem for the devious little shit instead of another burden for their already sodden backs.
At least the big man had engineered an improvised shelter against the rain filtering through the canopy, however she was chilled given that this had been formed from their cloaks. She can, at least, see some wisdom in this. They have to be mobile in case of some bandit patrol or other threat, and besides, Rian wouldn’t utilise their bedding and risk their sleeping under damp covers.
She sees Thae surreptitiously eye them in turn, obviously wishing to make no fuss. But the cleric can’t swallow it. “Hugo said he would be back within the hour. Should we…” The concern underlying the acolyte’s voice is touching, but Anuk fashions it into additional frustration. She’s certain the careless little bastard wouldn’t have considered his friend’s worries for his wellbeing. She lets out a bitter sigh, flinches slightly as she sees Thae’s eyes drop guiltily. As though her anger were directed to the humble priest.
Rian, seemingly oblivious to the interaction, rumbles that they should give Hugo more time. Anuk feels a trickle of guilt as Thae’s immediately engaged by this. She didn’t manage to…what, precisely? She knows apologies aren’t her strong suit, immediately tainted by her habitual armour of sarcasm. But the moment’s passed and she’s left hoping that Thae’s air of taking no injury isn’t just an act.
Rian’s now addressing concerns she’s certain the cleric didn’t express. “If he’s caught, we don’t know where to look, we don’t know what we’re facing, and we don’t know how to help.” Thae’s frown intensifies. The woodsman’s conjuring horrors, but he carries on, catches it. “But if he ISN’T caught, we’d be putting all of us into danger.” The big man seems to register the effect his words have had on the half-elf, grabs one of Thae’s hands in his own mitt. Holds the cleric’s gaze. “We’ll rescue him if we need to.” Anuk catches Rian’s sense, adds “But we’d need to know we need to, Thae.” She’s grateful can’t see hurt in the blonde’s tense nod.
-x-
Time drags on sullenly, each of them in their own puddle of discomfort. Thae and Rian, she can tell, are increasingly scanning the fort’s walls, trying to spot any weak points or lapses in patrols. She abandoned that nearly immediately. Bandits don’t make for natural guards, but from the little she’s gleaned of this ‘Dolf’ she’s gained some respect for him. He’s certainly set up his base to be impossible to approach undetected. And while she’s been impressed by the range over which she can fling her purple bolts with reasonable accuracy, this would be dwarfed by anyone even moderately proficient with a longbow. From an elevated position. From behind the cover of a stockade wall.
Rian, ever silent, sits beneath a frown like thunderclouds. In a less fraught situation, this might be amusing as his bushy eyebrows perfectly suit the effect. Anuk senses that, even were she a joker and raconteur like Hugo, the observation would land flat as the man seems to be contemplating sour options. Thae, on the other hand, seems ready to burst. Another unfunny comedic struggle in the half-elf’s expression as concern conflicts with the stillness with which the half-elf contrives to sit.
The three of them jump as, unbidden, Hugo makes himself known from a foot or so behind Anuk.
“I’ve got some good…” he starts, before leaping for cover as she finds she has swung to face him with double fingers towards his voice. Her heart’s hammering in her chest as she thankfully doesn’t loose a blast at the obnoxious little… Still, she does feel some relief that he’s back. And that the cocky little prick apparently feels safe enough to be so casual.
She doesn’t have a chance to navigate either fury or relief before Thae scoops the supine halfling up into a fierce hug. Rian, all efficiency, is already unpinning their cloaks from the branches over their heads. She can’t help but notice the fierce grin twitching beneath the big man’s beard. More infuriating, however, is Hugo’s tone of delight partly covered by mock-embarrassment. “Hey, Thae…good to see you too, buddy…” Her rising venom’s interrupted by Rian clumsily bundling her cloak over her shoulders, uttering one word as he gesticulates away from the fort. “Deeper.”
-x-
Well, deeper they certainly are, a mile or more of forest between them and their rendezvous point. She’s not certain Rian would have chosen to pull them back quite so far but they had encountered sufficient tracks crisscrossing through the undergrowth that he presumably only felt safe at this remove. Their bard seems to be spoiling to deliver good news. Presumably they require a forum to fully attend to his chapter and verse. Her annoyance reaches its peak, and they’re not fully settled before it spills out from her.
“YOU said we’re all in this together and we’re supposed to be a team and then you just fuck clean off without any warning. Back within the hour?” She can see Thae’s ready to jump to the halfling’s defence, can feel her instinct to bite threatening to spill further, cause more mess. But Hugo frowns, hand raising towards the cleric as he looks deep into her eyes. “Anuk. Sorry, you’re right. She’s right. I’d felt so close to this for so long, an inch away from it in Highbarrow, and how perfect it’d be for this, with a whole mess of trouble in front of us.”
It's not smooth, not his usual polished crumb of honesty woven inside a confection of half-truths. Instead, it feels clumsy, too clumsy for contrivance. Or maybe, her paranoia adds, it just sounds that way. But there’s not a twitch, not a blink as Hugo almost pleads. “When I realised it had actually worked, I panicked. I’m truly sorry.” She expects more, more than just this lame apology. That feels like vulnerability. A second passes. Two. He doesn’t swing in to drop another shoe. Doesn’t break eye contact. She frowns but feels herself nodding.
-x-
The little shit surely can knit a tale together. Anuk realises she’s been holding her breath, particularly in the narrow room with the lieutenants. Not that there haven’t been pauses in the tale for discussion. They’re pretty much agreed that Dolf is dead, heaviest suspicion laying against the disappeared Nevin. From Rian’s clarifications of his tale, it’s not beyond belief that the Iron Rams’ right-hand man was appalled by his boss’s submission to Perasta’s sack of money, particularly if the townie thought that cash paid to Rudolf purchased Nevin’s full compliance.
So: if Nevin iced Dolf and absconded with their cash, would the bandits even care about Rian and his dangerous little posse? Thae, ever the student of human nature, suggested that the bandits attacking Highbarrow with the mage’s cash in their pouches suggested he was hiring them directly. They could only guess, but the disarray of the fort suggested the men didn’t have a robust plan for the future. As they complete this little detour into speculation, Hugo’s grinning like a cat. Or rather, like a cat to a cornered mouse.
Anuk feels the little man’s malice catch her, feels her own lips twitching in betrayal of her urge to keep punishing him. She fails to completely bite down on a giggle as she says “Out with it, Hugo. You were in the room with…” The little man’s joyful as he carries on, she knows part of his glee reflects that he’s dodged her wrath.
“…with Keran and Trey, yeah. And one of them’s halfway sleeping ON his chest. And they’ve locked themselves in…” She folds her arms; knows her curiosity’s a reward to him. Still, she’s enjoying this.
“So I’ve got to; I pick the lock on the other one’s chest.” Hugo’s grin burns brighter as Thae suppresses a gasp. Turns to his thrilling audience. “I’m within reach of the bastard’s arm so I’m…quiet as I can be.” The little man mimes turning a tumbler as slowly, as methodically as possible, flicking his eyes between the motion and the imagined, sleeping lieutenant. She’s resisting the urge herself but picks up that Rian and Thae appear to be holding their breath.
Hugo catches her eye, notices her noticing. Drops the mime, airily continues: “Anyway…” His voice is louder and more forceful than necessary. As the other two jump, she realises the little raconteur had been dropping his voice little by little, leaning the pair in towards him. Doubling the effect of his increase in volume. “After that, I decided it was time to go.”
Anuk erupts in laughter as Rian, half recovered from the fright, blusters an “After what?!” More shockingly, Thae has pulled a leaf off the log on which they’re sitting, throws it at the beaming, mocking halfling. Who arranges his face into the least convincing show of honest surprise, defiant. “What? What d’you want from me?” “What was in the chest, you little prick?” She doesn’t even mean it as insult, and her amused tone highlights it.
He still teases the moment, the lie of confusion, as he digs into his sling bag. Produces a fistful of coins. And another. And another as he gently says “Oh, you mean this?” Anuk and the others look on in confusion as his hand returns again and again. Thae jerks forward to corral some of the coins sliding from the ungainly pile Hugo’s building between them. And yet his hand returns to the satchel.
Hugo looks around them in turn, fakest apology ever on his face. “I’m sorry. You see, this was in a bag. I mean in the chest it was in a bag. But I left that behind.” They look at him askance, at least the others do. She’s seen this narrative device too often, but she’s still smiling in anticipation.
He nails her with his gaze, same pleasure on his face as he innocently adds. “Just had to leave it under the other guy’s mattress. Oh, and I re-locked the chest.” He winks at her, fully certain of his performance. “And their door behind me. Didn’t want to be untidy.”
-x-
In the end, there doesn’t seem to be any more to do. The bandits should be in perfect disarray. By their count, Dolf’s dead, Nevin’s disappeared with most of their cash. Their best guess is that the second-in-command left the other lieutenants with a small cut of the funds each. Maybe to preserve his safety, a theory snorted down by Rian, ever ready to assume the man’s a demon. So, then, maybe motivated by a muted instinct to leave them a fraction of their earnings.
Nearest they can tell, Perasta has performed yet another fucking off. And with him, presumably, any imminent funds on which the remaining bandits might rely. Besides, he was burning his bridges with the Rams even before he got so many of them killed.
And as for Trey and Keran? Not exactly brainiacs, in Rian’s view, nor confident enough to assume Dolf’s station. Or even Nevin’s room. Possessed of enough sense not to trust one another, but to understand that Nevin’s dubious gift singled them out in the bandits’ camp. It seemed to explain the locked-room standoff. At least, a standoff before Hugo made it look like one had lifted the other’s share.
Best, they agree, to be as far away as possible by morning. Rian wants them to stop off at Thornwood, a small settlement southeast of the fort, but for some reason doesn’t want to approach in darkness. Instead, they’re going to head closer to dead south, take in Rian’s stockade.
They’re all a little tempted to stick around here, to spy on the effects of Hugo’s stick driven into the anthill of the bandit camp. They’ve been attacked by these parasites too often to take no pleasure in the thought of them tearing themselves apart.
Still, some pleasure must be foregone for safety’s sake. And angered beasts will bite anything in range of their teeth.
Besides, thinks Anuk, she wants to see the wild man’s burrow.
