Chapter 9: Ch 8

It was getting dark out, and the setting sun’s diluted colors peeked just inside the dome’s western wall. Most of the town’s vendors were shutting down for the day, and the remaining occupants of the cobblestone street consisted of citizens returning to their homes in the slums.

Passing through all the vendor stands and shops, they took a back alley till they arrived at a series of hole-in-the-wall brick shacks. These were the slums of Market Town. Though slums they were, Cedric thought they weren’t all that bad. The living was indeed cheap, which allowed its inhabitants financial and professional freedom. However, the conditions of living were not particularly of concern, as the people were all in some way involved in the market economy, which allowed them access to the minimum medicines the university had to offer.

Though, it remained a fact that this was the Teuton people’s lowest standard of living, and therefore its inhabitants were the most likely to fall to disease, even if it didn’t happen often.

As much was evident when the boys passed several shacks that carried a somber silence and fewer lit torches, one person tending to another seemingly unconscious bedridden citizen.

The sight delivered a morose expression to Cedric’s face, his troubling memories rising to the surface like hot nausea.

As the two got farther into the alley, the shacks grew livelier, and rough looking men from various shacks began shouting casual greetings at Quentle, occasionally including Cedric. However, as he did not know any of them, his responses were limited to shy bows or waves, a conditioned behavior.

Finally, they arrived at Quentle’s shack, a particularly colorful landing decorated with wall art and various hangings, including a circular knife throwing board and hooked shelves full of accessories ranging from sheaths and utility belts, to high grade chain mail vests and plating.

The shack’s owner, a large coarse looking thirty-something man, was in the middle of a sale when the two staggered into the shack. The other three inhabitants were too busy drinking ale and taking turns throwing knives at the hanging board to notice them enter.

“Ah, thank you as always Dagan, the service you do for us commoners here is so wonderful, I sincerely hope we can repay you someday.”

“Oh git on, us ruffians gotta stick t’gether! If anything, I overcharge villagers and nobles at the shop all day, so this is only right, gehahaha-ehhe!”

Despite letting a rough cough out in the middle of his laugh, Dagan took another deep puff from his long pipe.

“It’s more import’nt fer us to stay safe, aft’r all, there bein’ no guards out ‘ere at night!”

“Yes, you are most correct. These streets have been especially frequented by those bandits recently, so it’s scarier than ever. It’s the last thing we need at a time like this, with the Wolverines cutting off our trade routes and fishing activities more every day. Those despicable people have no shred of Teuton Will in them..though I suppose it’s this long war itself that is driving people to commit such acts.. ”

“Well those damned bandits be’er ‘ope they don’t come ‘cross my guys, ‘cause at’ll be the end of’m! So keep yer eye out an lemme know if ya see anyth’n funny!”

After shaking hands with Dagan, the man left, and the haggard shopkeeper turned to see Cedric standing next to Quentle, who had collapsed onto a table.

“Hoyy, Quentle’s home! An Cedr’c too?! What a treat, boys!”

“haha, hey there, Dagan. How is everyone?”

“We’re all hang’n tough, ain’t we boys?”

The three young men, all in their mid-twenties, gave Cedric casual greetings before returning their focus to their game.

“Hey Elem, Thom, Graham, who’s winning today?”

“Thom’s getting some lucky throws in so far, but I’m on my way to catching him.”

“Oy Graham, we all know those ten pointers weren’t lucky throws as much as my dagger totals today weren’t lucky sales.”

“hahaha he’s got us both there, Graham. So, what’s up with our boy Quentle today, Cedric?”

The oldest of the group, Elem, swept his long, half-tied hair back to give Quentle a concerned look.

“Hmm, well, today was actually not entirely his fault. It was about half his, half mine, so I decided to pay my debt by bringing him back,” Cedric replied with a grimace.

“Hahh? Just where are you pulling those numbers from, Cedric? It was at least ninety percent your fault!”

“Oh, you were conscious?”

Quentle turned his head, still planked on top of the table, and frowned at Cedric’s smirk.

“Hoyoyy Quentle, getcher ass steady, boy!”

With one hand, Dagan lifted Quentle off the table by his collar, and tossed him onto a sofa while he whined in protest.

“Ahh, Master please, I’ve had a long-”

“What a ‘andful the brat is, eh Cedr’c?”

“Quite so, Dagan sir. Though, I really was partially-”

“Gehahahah! You boys’r just like these three when they grew up!”

“Huh? No way, Master, none of us were as dumb as Quentle.” The dirt-matted Graham disputed.

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“Yeah...” The raggedy-haired Thom nodded in agreement.

“Not even close...” Elem followed, turning his attention back to the game.

“Alright, you guys suck, I’m going to my room. Cedric, I’ll get you back tonight! Don’t be late!” Quentle pointed at Cedric as he drudged through a rather worn, but colorful, tapestry, wearing some sort of half-grin, half-frown.

Cedric gave him a facetious nod in return, and turned to face Dagan once more.

“Hey, Dagan, has the crime around here really been that bad lately?”

“Mmm, it ‘as. I s’pose it’s been a while since you last been by, huh?”

“Yeah..so what’s this about bandits?”

“Ah, there’s other good fer nothin’s round ‘ere than just ‘em, but this’n bandit group been makin’ a name fer ‘emselves, lately.”

“The Blonde Bandits,” said Elem with a concerned look.

“Blonde…Bandits..” Cedric repeated Elem’s words as he turned back toward him.

“Sounds cute, doesn’t it? Especially strange considering the nobility are primarily blonde headed. But these thugs have been kidnapping people for ransom for over a month now. From what I’ve heard, they investigate their targets so thoroughly they know their schedule to the tee, picking them up whenever and wherever is most convenient for them to disappear with the victim. Then a day or two later, the victim’s family gets a letter threatening them for ransom, always signed ‘The Blonde Bandits’. They choose a safe place for exchange, execute, rinse and repeat.”

“…wow. I never would have imagined something like that...”

“The worst part is that other criminal groups have begun popping up, copying the Blonde Bandits and using their name. Problem is, they’re sloppy with their jobs, and people have died because of it. The castle is very aware of the problem, but they’ve tried hard to keep it hushed up, since public opinion on the government would go south if everyone knew the amount of intra-city guards are dwindling due to the Wolverines’ constant night assaults that are forcing us to spread sentry forces across the entire border wall. The tensions caused by this is limiting our commerce and causing these criminals to rise up the way they are.”

“...What the hell? So, we’re being stretched all over the island with the night assaults, and stretched from within trying to protect citizens from our own people? What the hell is that...Ralin and Galgi said it was bad, but I didn’t realize the night attacks were causing so much trouble...”

“Indeed. From what we’ve heard from a client connected to the army, each and every night assault is flawlessly executed, with top tier siege equipment to boot. We’re having to send troops running from battlefield to battlefield, in large numbers. It seems like the Wolverines finally decided to stop dragging this thing out and brought out their big guns.”

“Their big guns, huh..”

“Mm. It seems likely their commander in chief himself is involved, as well as his top generals. These attacks seem to be very calculated, so it makes sense.”

“I see…I wonder if we have the power to withstand their best…”

“Geha! Don’t seem ‘at way right now,” Dagan lamented, shaking his head. “‘xactly why this state needs one thing and one thing only- fer one o’ you two brats to go grab ‘at red sword and b’come the Heir! Or ‘ell, if I’d my pick it’d be both o’ ya! Jus’ not ‘at spoilt rich brat!”

“The red sword?”

“Oh, Gambell ain’t tol’ ya ‘at part yet, ‘uh? Long story short, either one o’ ya might be able to pull the red sword an’ use it as the Heir, some’n bout it bein’ a Takanova relic ‘at we can use since it’s been ‘ere on our side so long.”

“...ohh. Ralin mentioned that too, but I didn't really take it seriously. So that’s why Quentle was so excited about the forest earlier. I just assumed since Gambell said it was sealed that that was it. And after that story, I never would have thought of a Teuton using that sword anyway...” Cedric muttered, looking down.

“Eh? Yeah...-Gehem! - nothin’ on you, Cedric, but I think ‘at’s some’n ‘at makes our Quentle more suited, be’n ‘onest.”

Cedric’s eyes burst wide with shock, though his gaze remained downward.

“But, like I said, it could be either o’  ya brats… might jus’ come down to who gets to it first, gehahahaha!”

Cedric stayed fixed and silent for a moment, before finally composing himself and looking up with a grimace.

“Hah, well, lucky for me I know a few ways to slow Quentle down!”

After their conversation ended, Cedric bought several things: A utility belt with several sheaths strapped to it, one of Thom’s finely made daggers, and a very thin chainmail vest. Buying combat accessories had become a hobby of his, so when going through Market Town at night while equipped, he’d always dawdle around in the hopes that some trouble would come his way, for the sake of testing his skills.

Upon leaving the sketchier part of town, Cedric decided to take it easy and do some last-minute shopping, finally catching a street vendor in the middle of packing up.

Satisfied with his haul of meats and fruits, he made his way back to the village. It was getting dark out, but he wasn’t concerned with being in a part of town he considered to be potentially dangerous, so he carelessly maneuvered the winding Market Town roads.

Passing by a dark alleyway that would generally not catch his attention, he noticed three figures standing within the old beaten brick.

One of them, with the build of a tall boy around his age, leaned against the wall, a grey hood covering the top half of his clean-shaven face. He could just see light colored curls seeping out from the hood, matching the brown and gray robes draped loosely around him, winding diagonally down to his feet.

The man’s appearance made him come across lax, but his mien was intimidating enough to make Cedric stop walking momentarily, as if he’d actually been standing in his way rather than to his side. It almost felt as if he’d walked into some thick fog that kept him from moving further.

“Huuuh, what’s this? A little deer fallen into the lion’s den? How fun~”

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