A Soldier's Life

Chapter 26: Firth’s Idea of Dessert

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The mid-afternoon sun was blocked by ranging clouds as we walked. The plan was to escape the humidity in the tavern, which was a massive stone cellar. Firth had heard of it from a local. Probably one of his women at the brothel. It was in the lower city. The streets were fairly lean of people as we walked. More and more fled west every day, squeezing the city of regular people.

Wylie asked, “Any news on the reward for reporting the new dungeon?”

The older Firth, always informed, “Nope. They probably hoped we would all die out here so they don’t have to pay out.”

Mateo interjected, “It is the Adventurer’s Guild that pays. It will take them a week to travel there. A week to explore it. A week to return. And then ten months to review their notes before they pay out.” That got a lot of chuckles, but I was unsure if it was directed at the Adventurer’s Guild or bureaucracy in general.

Felix sounded appalled, “So we are not going to see the gold for a year then?”

Firth told him directly, “Just worry about staying alive. When it gets paid out, Adrian said each man is looking at between 50 to 80 gold. It will happen, just be patient.”

Kolm, our company pseudo-blacksmith, said, “I am going to get some enchanted boots so my damn feet never hurt again.” This started everyone on their wish list for what they would buy. Surprisingly, Firth said he was going to send it all back to his family and not spend it in a brothel. It would set them up for life and get the kids a good education.

Wylie asked, “What about you, Eryk? What are you going to do with your peasant fortune?”

Firth smirked, “The Telhians are not so bad. A little more racist than most Kingdoms, but you are human.” He paused and pretended to look at me seriously, “You are human, Eryk? Did anyone check?” He said in mock seriousness.

Felix, “I don’t know. His cock looked a little large in showers last night. Maybe he is half-orc.”

Wylie joined in on the fun banter, defending me, “It only looked large because you compared it to your own, Felix. It was completely normal.”

The good-natured jarring went back and forth until we arrived and descended stone steps into a large basement under what appeared to be a lumbar warehouse. The large room was well-lit, with dozens of tables and many men sitting...not many women I could see. The servers were middle-aged women moving among the tables serving city guards, locals, and a few men of the army. Firth pointed at an empty table, and we headed over as he said, “I was told to order the house stew with goat’s milk bread. They have a soft ale and thick stout ale for options.”

As we sat, one of the servers took our order. The house stew was a massive bowl of vegetables and various meats. It was enough to feed a family of four. As I ate, I figured the stew was just whatever they had left over from the previous day’s meal in the kitchen. I got the pale ale and was not a fan. It was extremely bitter. The goat milk bread had a thick crust and dense texture, but it soaked up the stew juices and became amazing on the taste buds. I ordered a second serving with the stout, somehow finding a way to pack it all in. The stout was heavy but not as bitter. My two stews, two loaves, and two ales ran me 14 copper. I tipped four copper coins. Tipping was not a normal practice, but it was understood and appreciated by the middle-aged woman serving us. When we finished the meal, the cards came out.

I just observed while the others played. It seemed almost like UNO. The first player to get all the cards out of his hand, won. The cards were marked with Roman numerals, which was strange since the magic tablets used Arabic base ten numbers. The numbers were only written slightly differently, and I had already gotten accustomed to them. Wylie and Felix were trash-talkers the entire game. I thought a lot of effort was invested in a game with no coin at stake.

I guessed the cool, dry underground stone room was maybe half full, 120 patrons or so. It was just after mid-day, so maybe it got busier at night. A woman in skimpy clothing came out and set up on a small stage. She had a large harp and strummed it before singing. She had a beautiful voice, and I focused on her for the entire song with my eyes closed. The words were not Latin but flowed marvelously together. When she stopped, I asked, “What language was that?”

“Probably elvish. I wasn’t paying too close of attention,” Firth said, his eyes and focus across the room. Then, there was a loud crash a few tables away, drawing everyone’s attention. A local had spilled his ale on an army regular. The curses started flying freely. And then fists.

I asked, “Are we leaving?”

Firth chuckled, “No. We will wait for the city guard to ask for our help and then join in the fun.”

I didn’t understand until the fight started spreading, and a man in a city guard uniform came to our table, “If you are Legion, then we could stand for some help.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he waded in.

Firth laughed and said, “This was what she said would be dessert. Come on. Focus on the regulars.” I think that meant the regular army. Soon, half the room was in a brawl. I followed my friends and got an elbow to the stomach to start. I promptly showed him what I had eaten for lunch. As he backed up, covered in vomit, I grabbed the man’s hair and drove his forehead into my knee. My knee hurt, but the adrenaline was flowing, and I had just lost most of a very good meal so I was a bit angry.

I stayed toward the rear, cleaning up the perimeter as I watched my company wade through the other men. It was like they were adults dolling out discipline to children. Firth, who looked to be in his forties, was doing the most damage. He would incapacitate a man with two quick jabs before spinning the dazed man over to the town guards. I had learned a lot in legion training but was rusty with my hand-to-hand skills. It took me a few strikes to my body before I got angry and let loose, the instincts drilled into me from months of training.

When it was over, I had a bloody lip and some bruises on my body, Wylie had a swollen black eye, and Mateo got a knife stabbed in his shoulder. It was a small knife for cutting fruit. We had not really won as we were more like the enforcers during the fight. By my estimate, fifty town guards hauled away about thirty regular soldiers and ten locals. Firth was talking to a guard captain while complimentary ale was brought to the rest of us. I needed to wash the acid vomit taste from my mouth, so it was appreciated.

Watching Firth talk and remembering how he fought, I asked, “Does this happen a lot when Firth takes you out?”

Felix commented, “More often than not. But he is always expecting it and gives us a heads up before it starts.”

I thought about Firth. He spent a lot of time away from the company in larger cities, supposedly visiting the brothels, and maybe he was. But he was always the most well-informed legionnaire, just as much as Castille, Adrian, and Delmar. But he didn’t talk with them like Konstantin did, so where was his information coming from? He was also older than Adrian and Delmar, so why was he not one of Castille’s lieutenants? He was just as good of a fighter as them.

It all seemed very fishy to me. I thought about asking him but instead planned to ask Konstantin. I trusted him enough to see if he knew anything, and Konstantin was probably the most observant man in our company. I drank the entire mug in a long pull and stood, “I am going to check the shops. Try to find some good deals in the ‘city is about to be attacked clearance section.’” Mateo got the joke first and laughed as I waved goodbye and left.

Instead of going directly back to the bakery, I went to the upper city to the bookstore. I wanted to see if there were other books on spell forms for the protection affinity. The owner was happy to see me but only helped marginally. There were other books, but he did not have any of them for protection. He did have a higher affinity healing book, but that would not help me anyway. I was happy with the self-healing spell form and was not even sure I could learn it. My affinity was 19, and the minimum suggested was 20. I would still try. I was going to leave, but he stopped me, “I don’t have the other spell form books, but I do have a spell reference book. It describes the lower affinity spells for protection.”

“I can not afford to purchase it, but can I look at it for a few minutes?” I asked hopefully. He considered and nodded. I think any spell could be imprinted as a spell form on a core. They created the books on spell forms for the most useful spells to make imprinting them for people with high enough affinities as easy as possible. I took the spell list book, sat in a chair, and carefully paged through. It had a fancy script, making it hard for me to read. At least it had an index.

There were two branches, the protection branch and the guardian branch. The protection spells focused on the self, while the guardian focused on others. I ignored the guardian side of the index. I quickly found the arcane armor spell. The spells were listed in the rank of difficulty, so all the spells above in the index should be available to me with a 30 affinity.

Protection from Scrying

Immunity to Non-magical flames

Faithful Spectral Hound

Ward of Concealment

Ward Against Undead

I went to the ward of concealment first, but it was not for a person. It concealed an object in an invisible field. The ward against undead was stationary too. Used to prevent the undead from entering doorways. Spectral hound sounded promising, but it was more of a guard dog while you slept and couldn’t attack. Protection from flames, I discounted immediately. The last one was a possibility. Protection from scrying would prevent people from tracking me. I could leave the legion before my five years, and they would not be able to find me. Two problems with the choice. I had no spell forms to guide me to imprint the spell, and it would probably take a long time to get the spell forms and learn them. I would probably be better off just finishing my five-year term.

I thanked the owner of the bookstore with a ten silver tip. I went to the same meat pie shop and got two pies again. When I picked up my clothes, I gave one of the pies to the old woman’s family. I also explained that I was relocating to the upper city and would not require her services again. She was disappointed and said I was a nice young man and hoped I lived a long and fulfilling life. I thanked her for her blessing and went to find Konstantin.

He was not in the room he was using on the second floor. As I came down the stairs, Olson, the other scout, entered, “Have you seen Konstantin?” he asked.

“No, I just checked his room. I do not know where he went,” I replied.

Olson grunted, “Well, pack up your gear. Konstantin and I are to track everyone down and get everyone up the estate. Dinner will be ready there in two hours. Castille wants to address everyone, then. The directions are simple. Just follow the main thoroughfare to the castle. Then keep the outer wall to your right. You will pass through a guard checkpoint into the inner courtyard orchards. The estate is on the far side of the trees. If you get lost, just ask for directions to the orchards from the city guard.”

“Head there now?” I asked.

“Yes, Eryk. If you get there first, you might be able to get one of the few private rooms,” he said, a little irritated he had not found the other scout.

I started packing as quickly as possible. I moved the still-hot meat pie into my storage when he left. Private room? Hell yeah. I could talk to Konstantin later.