Jeff Inlo - Chain of Bargains

The man in the red cloak stepped hurriedly away from the center of the street and placed his back to the brick wall of a nearby building. Visibly shaken, he issued two quick orders.

"You!" the captain ordered as he nodded to one of the guards. He attempted to convey strength and authority, but his voice trembled. "Go back to the station and get help."

The guard captain then pointed to a second guard. "I want you to scout ahead and see what's up there."

The guard frowned, but did not hesitate. He moved cautiously down the street and then turned out of sight.

"You and I will hold this position," the captain stated to the remaining guard.

The soldier, at first, seemed thankful for that task. The furtive disturbances had stopped. There were no more dashing shadows down alleyways, no more mysterious footsteps overhead or behind. There was only silence, but just for a moment.

They heard what sounded like a stifled grunt behind them and then some indiscernible shuffling-nothing like a conflict or great struggle-but certainly a commotion of some sort. The sound died away, leaving the captain and soldier more wary than ever. That concern doubled when a loud thud echoed out from streets ahead of them.

The soldier looked to the captain for direction, but the man in the red cloak simply stared out into the darkness. The guard wanted to abandon the officer, but he couldn't take the risk. He didn't even draw his weapon as he waited for an order that never came.

The captain proved even less decisive. He wanted to yell for help, but he couldn't find the nerve to call out. He would never be sure if it was pride or fear that held his tongue, but he would delude himself into believing it was courage. That courage ended up being tested severely, and it was found lacking of any depth.

Another flash of movement brought the encounter to a head. Two nimble figures darted out of an alley and took strategic positions next to the captain and his last guard. Ryson's hand streaked forward and grabbed the accompanying soldier's sword, disarming him without a struggle. Holding the blade menacingly to the guard's throat, Ryson bid him to remain quiet.

Holli glared at the captain. She did not disarm him or draw her own weapon. She simply bore down on him in a dramatic display of will. A spark of emerald magic lit up each eye and they glowed like those of a prowling cat.

"Your men have been neutralized. No help is coming," Holli stated coldly. She wanted the guard captain to fully understand the bleakness of his position. "You know who we are and what we can do, but you seem to underestimate the power of magic. I cannot have you make that mistake with me."

She held her hands out in front of her and turned her palms to the night sky. The emerald magic at her command danced back and forth from one hand to the other. It did not glow bright. Instead, she muted the light of the energy so it would burn much dimmer than any of the lamps on distant poles. Still, the presence of magic could not be denied as the green energy suddenly flowed off both palms and formed a rotating sphere in front of the captain's face.

Holli did not explain the purpose of the spell. She let the glowing orb mesmerize both the captain and the soldier and allowed their imaginations to conjure their own worst fears. She watched with satisfaction as the guard captain grew pale, obvious even in the emerald light.

"You will answer my questions and you will do so truthfully." She didn't wait for a response. "Why were we placed in jail?"

"I wanted to question you," the captain stammered, but he did not delay in answering. He clearly feared the magic, as well as the two figures before him.

"Regarding what?"

"Why you were here."

"How did you know we were here at all?"

"I got a dispatch two days ago. It said to be on the lookout for you two. It gave your descriptions. I gave it to my men, and you were spotted on the streets walking through town."

"A dispatch from who?"

"Regional Steward Wes Prilgrat."

Holli understood enough of politics in the Great Valleys to realize that a regional steward held significant influence. One of such power could certainly issue an order for a town commander and expect it to be followed. She was surprised, however, by how quickly the guard captain revealed the name of the person responsible.

"Where is this Wes Prilgrat now?" she demanded.

"He lives in Ashlan, the regional seat to the north. That's all I know."

"What were you to do with us?

"We were to hold you and alert Prilgrat. I don't know why he wanted you captured. We just do as we're told."

"But you wanted to question us," Holli reminded the captain. "Why?"

"I told you. I wanted to know why you were in Huntston. Prilgrat may not care about that, but I do."

That made perfect sense to the elf. The captain had an obligation to his town that might have been disregarded by a regional steward.

"Why do you think we're here?"

"I have no idea, but I think you're dangerous." The captain nodded to Ryson. "His sword…"

He didn't complete the sentence, but Holli wouldn't allow him to escape the issue.

"What do you know of my friend's sword?"

"The dispatch stated it was enchanted and dangerous and that we should not handle it unless it was covered."

"Have you sent any messages back to Prilgrat involving our appearance here?"

"Not yet. I wanted to make sure I had the right ones."

Holli believed the man was telling the truth, and yet, the situation lacked clarity. A regional steward knew about her and Ryson's presence in the Great Valleys-even ordered them to be held-and she had no idea why. More questions arose; who was Wes Prilgrat, why did he order her and Ryson captured, and what did any of this have to do with the growing chaos throughout the valleys?

"Where are the goblins?" Holli asked, quickly addressing concerns of another matter.

The sudden turn in questioning caught the captain off guard. For a moment, it almost appeared as if he swallowed a large, nasty insect.

"Wh… What are you talking about?"

"Goblins come in to town. Your men let them enter. You know about it. Where do they go?"

"Why do you care?"

"You seem to forget who is asking the questions and who is answering them. One last time. Where are the goblins?"

The captain gritted his teeth, didn't wish to discuss the matter, but feared the elf too much to withhold information.

"There's an old warehouse, western side of town, not far from the bridge that empties directly on to the town's main avenue. It's the first large building after the guard shack. They go in there."

"What do they do in there?"

"I don't know… you think I go in there?"

Holli ignored the question and quickly asked another one of her own.

"Why do you even let them in town?"

"Prilgrat's orders."

Prilgrat again. The regional steward was becoming a central figure to the mystery. Holli accepted that the guard captain would follow certain orders from a politician with power, but no self-respecting soldier would follow reckless orders without some explanation.

"Why does Prilgrat want goblins to enter towns or to own farms?"

"I don't know and I don't want to know."

"Then why do you listen to him?"

The captain did not wish to answer. He looked away from the elf's glowing emerald eyes. He looked down from the green orb of magic. His body went rigid, but he sunk into himself as if he could withdraw from the encounter by slightly crouching, hunching his shoulders, and trying to turn away.

"Answer me," Holli growled, not allowing the captain to slink away. Her eyes penetrated the man before him as if the green energy was flowing out of them and into the captain's face.

"Prilgrat!" the captain gasped. "He said the goblins would enter the town one way or the other. If we didn't let them in, they'd overrun us."