Chain the Wild Pawn 13

“What a hell of a mess.”

Highperch spat in disgust in the early morning fog as he looked over the still smoldering wreckage of what was once a highly frequented hotel by foreign dignitaries and high class merchants alike. A mixture of heavy fog off of the river and the smoke from the wreckage twisted the day’s first light into a sickly hue which was oddly fitting for the scene. Highperch was not alone in looking over the wreckage as numerous armored soldiers in grey uniforms scoured over the remains seeking survivors of both the human and monstrous variety. Beyond the soldiers who scoured the devastation more formed a perimeter along with numerous adventurers to keep out the equally terrified and curious onlookers who had gathered to see what had become of the once prestigious hotel.

“You don’t find any beauty in it at all?”

“I don’t know who your, but I suggest you le–”

Highperch’s words became lost in his mouth as he looked to his left to see a slender beauty of a maid garbed in a black bustle dress with a matching ruffled parasol. Her long black hair was worn up revealing the nape of her pale white neck that emerged from the seductive neckline of her dress. From a face like a finely crafted porcelain doll soul stealing black eyes looked deep into Highperch and dainty red painted lips opened in smile as the maid giggled.

“Eh, he, he, he, he. You flatter me master adventure. Are my looks so beguiling.”

“Don’t mock me maid. You’ve no business here and would be wise to return to a safe distance beyond the perimeter.”

“I feel safe enough right here already master adventurer.”

Something about the way the maid spoke sent a chill down Highperch’s spine that had naught to do with the morning mists. A crunching sound underfoot drew the gaze of the head of the Highroot Company House to the ground. There was nothing to see at first but as the black garbed maid began to walk away the hem of her dress gave way to the sight of a foot crushed head of one of the bat-winged centipede abominations that had beset the hotel. The sight was disturbing enough as it was but as the rubble pile shifted around the creature’s vicinity it became obvious that it had still been alive until the maid had crushed its head sending the beast into quite death throes.

“Just who the hell are you?”

“Oh, do you want me to stay now master adventurer? But I thought you said it was unsafe here. Eh, he, he, he, he.”

The black garbed maid stopped and twirled her parasol playful as she looked back and giggled at Highperch. The maid’s offsetting nature continued to put Highperch off guard but he refused to be manipulated and frowned deeper than his typical expression of general disdain.

“I won’t be ensnared by your wiles maid so I advice you cease your attempts.”

“Cease my attempts master adventure, whatever do you mean?”

Questioning Highperch’s words the maid spun back a step and leaned up against Highperch as she stretched her back and brought him under her parasol. A bead of sweat ran down Highperch’s face as he was pressed against by the maid but she did not look upon him as before and closed her eyes as she offered him a smile.

“Come now master adventurer, if I was using my wiles you would already be a puppet on a string.”

A sudden blaring fanfare of trumpet song interrupted the conversation between Highperch and the mysterious maid and marked the arrival of the king’s royal carriage. The accompanying percussion of horse shoes upon the cobbled streets came to an end just as a herald of the royal party raised his voice to announce the king’s arrival.

“Make way good people of Highroot! His Majesty, our king, Peregrine Stormflock VI is arrived!”

“What absolutely horrible timing.”

Clicking his tongue in frustration Highperch made his way from atop the smoldering rubble to where a contingent of the royal guard cleared out the regular soldiers, adventures, and masses to make room for the king. Stepping out of his gilded carriage the king was unquestionable garbed for a public appearance before his people compared to the simple clothes he wore in private when he had hosted Highperch the night before. The adventurer had no concern about the king’s attire and kneeled before the king as the black garbed maid joined him and curtsied. Highperch intended to offer an apology to the king but was caught off guard as Stormflock showed concern for him with a knowing smile.

“You seem bothered Highperch. Is there aught that ails you?”

“Only my failings your majesty.”

“What failings might those be Highperch? Come, walk with me and speak of your failings.”

“Of course your majesty”

Rising to his feet Highperch began to stroll alongside the King who began his own inspection of the pile of rubble that was once a hotel. Twirling her parasol the black garbed maid followed, the lack of protest from anyone piquing Highperch’s curiosity. As he was expected to inform the king of his failings however Highperch was ill afforded the opportunity to indulge his curiosity.

“According to my men, your majesty, the Chainmaid had joined Silverlance at this hotel for the night and there is no sign that any of the hotel’s patrons survived the night.”

Suppressing a giggle the black garbed maid was further amused as she indulged herself in the sight of Highperch exerting every ounce of willpower he had not to show his discontent with her. It was perhaps because he was in the presence of the king that he was able to do so, but it was still with great effort that he continued his report with a straight face.

“I had hoped that perhaps Silverlance would have assured the Chainmaid’s escape but according to the Rattama that have come to scout out the hotel there have been no signs of any surge in the Builder’s Song all night. That leaves me to believe that whoever was responsible for the manipulation of the Builder’s Song by means of a Tuner they mentioned just might have been successful in killing Silverlance. Between the damage wrought by the flames and however long it’ll take for the Rattama to get their Sentinels in use to clean this mess up however there is no way I can say what happened. As a result I can’t assure you that the Chainmaid survived.”

The black garbed maid again interrupted Highperch’s report, this time not with suppressed giggles but with ringing laughter. There was no longer any way that Highperch could ignore the maid and he turned his furious features upon her. His fury was quickly washed away in perhaps horror as she spoke mirthfully.

“Oh father, it’s much too perfect. That maid from the south; she is something of a marvel.”

“Father…?”

“It would appear that my daughter has failed to introduce herself Highperch. Allow me then. I present to you my daughter, first and only princess of Highroot, Corvina Stormflock the Puller of Strings, and a Hero of her kingdom.”

“What?”

Highperch simplified his surprise at the identity of the black garbed maid into a single word which earned yet more laughter from her. Highperch knew he had already been made to play the fool and figured there was likely not a better time to educate himself on what was going on as a result.

“A Hero and your daughter? How could she have possibly avoided the Bandit King’s purge?”

“Because I became a Hero while I was away from home. I never expected to return but when I heard of a Knight Prince of Lumirest on a holy mission to Raptoria it seemed the perfect opportunity to return and remove the usurper from my kingdom. The arrival of the maid from the south and her reputation in conjunction with father’s ambition only made things more perfect. Eh, he, he, he, he.”

“Then all of this was planned? How many people died last night and for what? Just to be rid of the Bandit King? Why not challenge him in combat yourself if you’re a Hero?”

“Highperch.”

Highperch froze and grew silent as the king spoke his name and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Remember that you speak to my daughter and your future queen. It would be wise to choose your words with care.”

“It’s alright father. Our master adventure is so entertaining. Eh, he, he, he, he. So entertaining that I can’t help but want to answer his questions.”

As Corvina smiled at the king he withdrew his hand from Highperch’s shoulder leaving him to his daughter. Highperch could not be sure if that was a mercy or a cruelty as there was something about the princess that legitimately unnerved him.

“You see master adventurer, I may be a Hero, but direct confrontation is not my strength. If I were to challenge the Usurper in combat he would surely kill me. My strengths lie in manipulating events and making them work to our benefit. The pawn you provided me, wild or no, has allowed me to control the usurper’s movements. Combined with the presence of the Lumirest Hero I will be able to influence the nations of which this very hotel’s patrons hailed. We are in a sympathetic situation today which will earn us support and perhaps even a blind eye. And it is that blind eye which benefits father most as with it and the usurper under my control we can not only rid ourselves of him but all of our enemies here in the Northern Kingdoms. Thus master adventure, the number who died here tonight is only important in relation to how many kingdoms are attached to them. Though, I certainly do hope that the sweet little harpy who accompanied the southern maid survived. I would like ever so much to make her mine. Eh, he, he, he, he.”

Highperch was appalled by the words that came out of Corvina’s mouth but was reminded of a fact about Chain as the princess mentioned Melody. Glancing past the twisted princess at the rubble that was once a hotel and hearing the voices of the masses around it a strange sense of relief washed over him.

“If you can kill the Chainmaid you may yet have your chance your highness.”

“Oh. What’s this? Is the master adventurer telling me that the little harpy still lives?”

“If she doesn’t I doubt we will for much longer either.”

The king narrowed his eyes at Highperch’s words but the head of the Company House of Highroot was not bothered by that glare as he considered Chain’s reputation. As horrible as it was only he truly knew it having heard the fear and awe in the voices of the men and maids of Soarmont’s Adventuring Company who he had spoken with after hearing of her encounter with the Bandit King. To him it made Chain seem much more monstrous than the maid before him who reveled with laughter at the prospect of Melody’s well being while speaking of further death.

“Oh how wonderful! I hope you speak truthfully of our pawn master adventurer for I hope we can visit such horrors upon our enemies. Then, once the southern maid has danced to the melody of war we can dispose of her and I will claim the little harpy as my own. Eh, he, he, he, he.”

Copyright © 2018 Joshua D Tarwater