Chapter 90: Chapter 82 – An unholy mist

Awkwardly, Charlie flinched under the wet, slobbering tongue smearing across his face and top of his head. Trying to look up to her in an attempt to voice his protest, she simply grabbed his head and forced him to look down while she continued to clean him.

 

Staring up the road, Charlie saw the man who had owned the gun shop. Seeing him, he sneered before walking over to Charlie. Managing to pull himself from the Chiefess, he walked over to the man.

“Payment?” he said, his shuffling posture showing his desire to leave as quickly as possible.

 

Giving a simple nod to the man, he turned and walked over to a pile of money that the Chiefess had won. While he did this, the Chiefess watched as the man whose arm, she had broken, alongside the town lord and several others began to drag their feet up the same street that the gun shop owner had come down. Out of the corner of his eye, the man saw them, and a sudden look of rage overcame his face.

 

Once the several bags of money were handed to him, the man turned and stormed towards them. Quietly, Charlie and the Chiefess watched as the man dispersed up the street with the others. She cared little for the money, but it was his attitude towards her husband that caused her to snarl slightly, allowing her fangs to show.

 

Even when out of the sight of the Chiefess, the men all simultaneously shuddered as if her hatred had stalked after them. Grabbing Charlie and pulling him back onto her lap, the Chiefess smiled. Lovingly, her fingers moved around his neck, only stopping as they saw the red mark of a hand. Whipping him around so that he looked at them, she grabbed her translation book and began to forger a sentence.

 

“Who did this to you,” the Chiefess said quietly, her eyes focusing on the mark as she tried to determine how bad the wound was.

 

“It was a misunderstanding,” Charlie responded, trying to move back as the Chiefess wrapped an arm around his waist to prevent his escape.

 

“Who hurt you?” she said, her eyes narrowing as she began to look even angrier.

 

“As I said! It was a misunderstanding! An accident,” Sneering, the Chiefess pulled Charlie even closer to her chest.

 

“Who harmed you?” she questioned, her eyes peering around the area as if trying to see whose hands could have made such a devastating mark on him.

 

Whoever did this had to have been strong. The handprints were small, but the sheer strength behind the attack had left such a mark it looked as if he had been hung by the neck using a noose. Wrapping his arms around the waist of the Chiefess, he smiled up at her.

 

“I love you,” his angelic smile made her heart throb as she loosened her grip around him.

 

“How about this? Let me finish my merchant duties, and then we can have all the cuddles you want!” Charlie said excitedly, putting on his best smile in an attempt to calm the Chiefess.

Frowning, she began to wriggle in her seat while keeping her arms around him. Even though the magic hid her tail, Charlie could tell it would be a mixture of drooping and wagging as she tried to debate with herself over whether or not to release him from her grip.

 

“One more promise,” she said, raising her index finger in front of his face.

 

 Glancing over his shoulder, Charlie saw an old man alongside another man in an iron mask towing a large wagon of supplies. Quickly, Charlie realised the man to be the owner of the shop, and this masked man to have been the one who attacked him. If a god or goddess was watching over him, they defiantly had a twisted sense of humour.

 

“Sure, what is it?” Charlie said, turning his attention back to the Chiefess. Leaning closer, she began to whisper into his ear.

“When we get back, you let me place between legs?” Understanding the gust of what she was trying to say, Charlie gave a nod, trying to hold back his mix of fear and excitement as he did so.

 

Reluctantly, the Chiefess let him move from her arms. Smiling at her, he began to collect some bags of coins as the men approached. The old man waved, his soft smile sending a sense of comfort over both Charlie and the Chiefess. Gesturing at his goods the man continued to smile as he spoke.

 

“That nice lady, what was her name? Nolkonoe. She came to my shop, and we had a little discussion, and we came to an agreement of her to buy some of my goods,” he said with a gentle smile while gesturing for the man in the iron mask to come forward with the cart.

 

“Oh, of course,” Charlie said, impressed by Nolkonoe’s decision as he began to gather a few piles of coins.

 

“So, how much do I owe you, and what goods do you have?” Charlie asked and the old man began to list off all the goods he had brought.

 

Charlie stuttered for a moment as he remembered Nolkonoe had his merchant’s booklet. Mumbling to himself, Charlie decided that he was to try and make the deal based on what he could see. Scanning over the furs, he folded his arms and met eyes with the man.

 

“I can give you about five thousand coppers,” Charlie said, wanting to see if he could make a reasonable price. Frowning, the man shook his head.

 

“Mrs Nolkonoe said this would at least me ten thousand?” The man in the cloche tilted his head as he met eyes with the Chiefess.

 

Her eyes fixed on his as she looked down at his hands. They were gloved, but comparing them to the marks around Charlie’s throat, they seemed ideal to have made that mark. Charlie’s opponent was already set as the older man as he knew that all these goods couldn’t possibly add up to ten thousand. After all, from counting all the goods, they could probably only make it up to maybe seven thousand at most.

 

On the other hand, it was possible that maybe Nolkonoe had gotten the pricing wrong, or was guilt tripped by the old man. As the two stared at each other, the man in the iron mask kept his gaze on the Chiefess. She began to return his gaze with her heightened senses, but with more of a hostile intention.

What was she doing? He thought to himself as he could tell she could sense his stare. Frowning under his mask, he was baffled by how she was able to see past the mask. Taking a closer look at her, he grinned slightly under his mask. Chuckling slightly, he now saw she had far more magic power than she was letting on, and defiantly far more magic potential and power than any of the others he had seen.

 

Maybe she was someone who could pose a threat to him. Well, it was best to make sure she understood her place. As the old man and the merchant boy talked, she walked past them and to the woman. Leaning closer to her, he decided to make sure she caused no more trouble than her counterparts.

 

“If you want to hide those ears and tail of yours, you and your friends should have used a stronger magic,” he whispered, his mask translating his words into her language.

 

Widening her eyes, the Chiefess flung a hand behind her, checking if her tail was showing. Placing her other hand onto her head, she searched for her ears. But no, they weren’t showing. What was this man, no, this thing had abilities far above a regular human? Seeing the fear in her eyes, the man smirked again under his mask, before turning and walking back to the cart.

 

Taking the supplies, he began to place them onto the table while the two men haggled for a good price. The entire time, the Chiefess sat in silence, staring at him. What was this thing? Should she grab Charlie? Should she attack that man? Was she stronger than him? No, maybe, yes? She didn’t know. The cloche made it hard to tell what his physical form was like.

 

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“Six thousand, five hundred,” Charlie said, placing his hands onto his hips as he stared the man in the eyes. The man nodded.

 

“Fine,” the old man said, looking a little annoyed, but willing to take the deal. Extending a hand, he looked at the old man. Sighing, but still keeping his smile, the man took his hand and shook it.

 

“Fine then, you have me convinced! Do what you need to do!” the man said, and the man in the mask walked over and picked up the bags of coins.

 

Counting out the coins, he nodded before giving his thanks and turning to leave with the man in the mask. Counting out their remaining money, alongside the goods, Charlie began to also take stock of goods as well as the other money that they had with them. As he did this, the Chiefess sat in silence, keeping her eyes on the masked man until he left.

 

The second the man was out of sight, the Chiefess threw her arms out to the side to steady herself. Within seconds of him leaving, it had felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Moving subtly forward, she placed herself just behind Charlie, as if trying to block him from some kind of invisible attacker.

 

Charlie noticed her moving closer as she began to shuffle in place, looking uneasy as her eyes lingered after where the men had walked off. Once all the items given to them were taken by some of the natives and placed onto the Desert Claimer, Charlie set to work double counting all the money they had brought. Pouting slightly, he looked at the money that the Chiefess had won.

 

Half of it had been given to the old man for the goods. If things were going to carry on this way, they would have to start spending the money they intended to buy their goods with. The idea he was using the money taken from the town lord to pay for the town’s goods brought a small smile to his lips.

 

A large pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders. Without even having to look, Charlie knew well who it was.

 

“Afternoon,” he said, looking up to see the Chiefess’s large pouting eyes and puckered lips.

 

“Want home,” she said, her little translation book hidden in the palm of her hand.

 

“Later, we can’t leave without the rest,” Charlie said, stroking her hand as she tightened her hold around him.  Removing her arms, he gave her a gentle smile before returning to his station as several groups of men carrying boxes began to approach. One of them waved a hand and gave a wide smile.

 

“Charlie Black-Quill?” The man asked.

 

“Yes, can I help you?”

 

“Lady Nolkonoe gave us a good deal for about fifty of our guns. She chose very well!” Charlie moved to the man as they began to chat, and begin their transaction for the weapons. Grumbling to herself, the Chiefess returned to her sitting position on a pile of empty boxes, the entire time watching each of the men, making sure none of them was anything like that of the masked man.

 

Hours passed as Charlie talked to the merchant after merchant about the goods and their prices. All while checking the quality of goods as he also made a small list of who exactly of the group it was who sealed the deal. On the tougher, angry merchants it seemed the huntresses and warriors were the ones to seal the deal. While for the nicer, calmer merchants, it seemed the seductive beauty and soft words of the Vultures were what had swayed them to their will.

 

 3 maybe 4 hours later,  and eventually the seemingly never-ending line of merchants came to an end with the last of them delivering some baked goods as well as oils and spices. By the end of it, it seemed they had done well as they used up the last of the money won, and not around five crowned golds (or five hundred thousand coppers).

 

It was a lot, and again Charlie couldn’t help but think if he was there then they would have found some more tricks to get money, but still, it was good to let them learn. And then again, we were rusty and were still getting back into the swing of dealing with people who weren’t trying to fuck the life out of him or eat him.

 

The cordial memory of old, seemly times back at his home town again filled his mind and heart. But glancing over his shoulder to the Chiefess, he felt as if she was far more copacetic than that old life. Not for long though was he able to dwell as heavily armoured footsteps began to approach. This combined with the narrowing of the Chiefess’s eyes as she shifted her body forward in a sign of aggression lent to the idea of who this could be.

 

Turning, he saw the second in command of the coin swords mercenaries. His eyes glared down at Charlie. His lower lip was covered in white plaster, and his change in trousers alongside his slight hobble told him that he most likely had suffered some grave injuries to his privates. Standing at attention to them, his glare seemed to relax as he began to speak.

 

“His greatness, the Town Lord, wishes to invite you to a luscious feast at a renowned tavern near here. He says he shall pay, and invites you all to come and participate,” he said, his offer causing Charlie to glance back at the Chiefess who took her time translating the words. She was in no hurry to hear from a low life such as that man.

 

Frowning, she had some of her warriors from the reserve come forward.

 

“I come, but only for short time,” she said, and the man gave a slight grin before standing and nodding to them.

 

“I shall go ahead and inform the Town Lord of your coming arrival,” Pointing up one of the three streets he spoke again, “carry on down that road for about ten minutes, you will then see the tavern called the Red Arms Inn,” he said before turning and quickly hurrying away.

 

Momentarily, Charlie looked back to the Chiefess.

 

“I’ll go ahead, you gather the warriors and secure the goods. I might also meet Nolkonoe and the others considering they went that direction,” Charlie said, gesturing for him to follow after the men as they now disappeared up the third street.

 

Making a few noises of exaggerated annoyance, the Chiefess crossed her arms and looked the other way before speaking.

 

“Go! But only with two more,” she said and ordered two warriors to follow him. Nodding to her, they followed as he began to wonder after the men.

 

By now they were out of sight, and the sun was just beginning to fall over the town. As dusk approached, the street became more and more obscure as they stumbled down the cobalt stone path. Shadows followed over them as they walked, and the smokiness of night was slowly blocking out any touch or lanterns.

 

How long had they been walking? Glancing around, he tried to see if there were any public clocks, but it was so dark he couldn’t make out a thing. A thick, long, squishy object pressed against the bottom of his foot as he walked, causing him to trip and stumble down into a puddle. Wiping himself off, he stood and stared… an arm… it was an arm. Glancing up, he looked at the two warriors. They lay on the floor, arrows lodged into the sides of their heads.

 

From the design, he saw these to be Sulk arrows. Arrows were designed for hunting and making no noise as they were fired. Looking to the arm, he flowed it to a body, the body of a huntress. Gasping, he stepped back as several figures moved from the shadows. Glancing up, he looked at the street lamp. A thick, black fog surrounded them. Magic? No, magic like this being here of all places?

 

“Can I help you?” A voice of a deep voice said as the head of the mercenaries came onto the light of the moon. A thick, black smog came from the palm of his hands, blocking out the light of the lamps.

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