Chapter 86: Born A Monster, Chapter 86 – Scorched

Born A Monster

Chapter 86

Scorched

I awoke before dusk, mainly because one of the Fairfields was stomping on the roof of my room.

I moved gingerly, none of my wounds properly healed. Where was my crutch? Well, I’d just need to make do without it.

I needed to get up to the countertop to tap the attic door with a broom handle.

There was a brief pause, and then it shot downward.

.....

“Where is my supper?” the male voice demanded.

“Quietly! Do you know what the guards will do if they find you?”

“Don’t threaten me, you little monster! This is my house, and you are the guest. Now cook me supper!”

The smell of food attracted Katharsos. “Are you cooking for three?”

“I’m cooking for five.” I said.

“Ah, a man after my own stomach.”

There was a stomp from the attic.

Katharsos asked if I’d heard anything. Crap. Well, what the hell.

“Of course, I’ve heard something. The normal residents of this house are living up there.”

He chuckled. “You want that Nassos and I should handle that problem?”

“I think there’s been enough bloodshed, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not. Humans are arrogant buggers, walking all over our land, and paying us paltry coins for the privilege. Well, now they get to pay in blood. The same price we Uruk pay. Seems fair to me.”

“So are you going up there whether I want it or not?”

“It seems needlessly cruel to force them to live in fear.”

I nodded. “It does. Can you open that hatch in the ceiling for me?”

He shrugged, and did so.

“You might as well come down and return to your rooms. They know you’re here.”

“Because you told them? You did, didn’t you, little monster?”

“Because you are arrogant and noisy and stupid. You could have lived up there for months, but that possibility is gone now.”

Lord Fairfiled of the stompy feet came down the ladder first. “You will pay for this.”

“I’ve no doubt I’ll pay for saving your life and your family.”

His vociferous berating of me drew his wife down as well.

“I see him waving that hand at you a lot.” Said Katharsos. “I can cut it off with that cleaver. Really, it’s not a problem.”

I sighed. “If you want to eat it, cut it off. But I don’t have the right spices to make it palatable.”

“Hrm. What’s for breakfast if we don’t add human meat to the pot?”

I am all but certain this was a joke on his part. Uruk don’t eat other sentient species; when they can avoid it, they don’t even hunt Aware animals. All the same, I took the lid off the pot and let him have a whiff, detailing the ingredients.

“Why is that beast savoring the smell of my stew?”

“He’s not; he’s savoring the smell of his stew. I’ll cook something for your family later.”

“Unacceptable!”

“Dear, let’s collect our family and be glad for our blessings.”
He bristled and drew himself up to his full height.

Katharsos took a step toward the cutting block, set the tips of his fingers on the cleaver there.



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#

“Do not think that you can move into my house and issue me commands.” He said. “I will always be your better.”

“Lord Fairfield, if you continue acting that way, this guard, representatives of the forces currently in control of the town, this house, and all of us, will chop off some body part. The fact that you bear status in human society may even make him respect you less, not more.”

I scratched under my bandages. “Look at my wounds. I cannot defend you. These warriors are part of the force that has taken dominion of the town. Although that army is currently overseeing the removal of bodies from the city streets, I have no delusions about how they feel about adding a handful or so to those carts. Do you?”

“Don’t threaten him!” the lady said.

“Indeed. You, monster, do not get to threaten me. Not you and not your pet guards.”

Augh, all this, and my knitting bones itched. “Again, sir, I am too wounded. I am not a threat, but neither am I able to shield you. These guards are here to keep me from escaping, not to serve me in any way.”

His face turned a darker shade of pink.

“I am not threatening you, I am attempting to warn you. If you doubt my words, feel free to check on the condition of your neighbors.”

“Cephile, Lansa, please come down.” Two young girls, one of whom I had seen at the party, came from the attic. “Loukas, the girls and I shall be in the bedroom. Do try to not get yourself killed needlessly.”

“I, sirrah, have a family to protect. Don’t think that this offense shall go unpunished, for it shall not!”

Once he was gone, I rubbed behind my eyes.

“Just remember,” Katharsos said, “I offered to kill them for you.”

“Is that offer still good?”

“Are you kidding? Just watching that buffoon is going to provide endless entertainment.”

Kismet and another woman in a maid outfit came down, closing the attic behind them.

“May we draw water from the well in back for baths?” the unknown maidservant asked.

“Let me ask the guards at the back door.”

They had no problems with humans coming and going, so long as I myself went no further than the well. I relayed this back to the maids. “I don’t recommend walking the streets alone. A significant portion of the army may still be inside the walls.”

The maid, when she wasn’t slouching, stood nearly as tall as Katharsos. Though she lacked his musculature, her eyes also spoke of vengeance. “I expect, sirrah, that you shall be departing our household at your earliest opportunity.”

“When it is permitted. Until then, I’ll be in the cook’s bedroom.”

She snorted. “And you’ll just throw Phaedra out into the street?”

“Phaedra’s body is probably already on a pyre to burn. If you’ll excuse me, I have a good deal of cooking to do.”

“I see.” She said, and left.

“Rhishi, that was mean. You didn’t have to say it like that.”

“How should I have said it?”

“Ugh! Boys! I have work to get to, as well.”

#

“I was led to believe that you healed rapidly.” Rakkal said.

“Provided biomass and nutrients, this is true.”

“I gave instructions that you be placed into a large house. Was their larder empty?”

“It was not, but if the family living in that house is to survive, they need to shop for groceries soon.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Let them forage. It will do them good.”

“As you command.”

“Well, you aren’t much good to me in your current state. I suppose you’ll just have to be fed. You said minor improvements are limited by your Might?”

“They are.”

“Raise that statistic next, then. You will need many improvements.”

“Which ones should I prioritize?” I asked.

“All of them. Although I need your understanding of the centaur mindset first, you should plan on being ready for anything I need. Diplomacy, infiltration, assassination, magical manipulation – any of it.”

I had an uneasy feeling. “My lord, do you have my first mission in mind?”

.....

“Of course, I know my next step. And therefore, I know yours.”

“When that step comes to Whitehill, there is a matter of a favor I owe to the Oriestes-son family.”

“Ah, no. Not immediately. I’ll send someone to brush you up on your hobgoblin. But eventually, yes, we’ll need to resolve that.”

“Hobgoblin? I wasn’t aware there was a tribe of them south of the Yellow Desert.”

“Ah, but there is. In fact, there’s an entire tribe of them east, over the mountain range. Hortiluk, one of my assistants, is from that region.”

“Will he be the one assisting in preparing me?”

“His assistant, Sholwyr. She knows more about the people, and their culture. For now, focus on healing, developing these muscles you lost, and learning basic language and customs.”

“And any evolutions that will help me survive passage across an impassable mountain range in the fall, and perhaps a return trip in winter?”

“You’ll also want to prepare yourself for passage through a valley containing volcanic gasses, if I recall correctly. But I wanted to discuss centaur culture first.”

“Centaur culture? Not their military tactics?”

He snorted. “I know about their military, enough to know that the only way to defeat them is to line up an army over three miles long, and just pressure them from the east to the west, and then crush them against the sea shore. What I would rather do is defeat them without the need for such violence. What would make them join the Red Tide?”

“I think you would need the support of the humans from Montu’s Glory and Narrow Valley, at the very least.”

“Explain why.”

#

“Centaur culture as we know it began with four legendary heroes.” I recounted the story. “They have been supporters of the remnants of Grot and Achean culture ever since.”

“If I could show that the Uruk were the rightful descendants of that culture, might they accept the alliance of the Uruk?”

“I ... I truly don’t think so. I would need to know more about why they hate goblins so much. But the fact that goblins, orcs, and hobgoblins are different species of the same race, and that orcs are rumored to be descendants of goblins... I would need to learn more, but no, that is an uphill charge.”

He slapped his knee. “Ha! Someone who provides the truth! For that alone, I should have purchased you. So we need to point out to them that the Uruk are not goblins?”

“I think making that distinction will be vital. Also, since the Red Tide counts goblin-kind among its member races, I think that will also be a sticking point against negotiations.”

A deep rumbling emerged from his throat. “I need solutions! How do we bypass this obstacle? How do we destroy it?”

“Traders and family bonds?” I suggested.

“I am this close to hitting you, but explain.” His fingers weren’t all that close, but they were fairly large fingers.

“As individuals, centaur are proud and noble warriors, but they form strong bonds with their family. If you send Uruk traders among them, such as those who traded with Seacrest before its destruction, and they conducted themselves well, they could eventually win over the councils of the collective tribes.”

“How long is eventually?”

“How long will it take the Uruk to improve centuries of bitter feelings by building up good will one centaur family at a time? To win enough trust to be sought out at the Foreigner’s Camp during their Clanmoot? It would take four years, perhaps eight.”

“Four. Years. And if I said that were too long?”

“I admit, I don’t see the other option of anyone who’s telling you that it can be done quicker.”

“What about a clan war? If one were to start, and the Red Tide were to support the winning side?”

“That... might ... work...”

“You sound uncertain.”

“Your most diplomatic option would be to present large numbers of Red Tide infantry, present them to your allies as the anvil against whom they can drive their enemies.”

He nodded. “Harkulet suggested as much. Is their culture that important to them?”

“Their honor is based in tradition. Shameful acts can follow a bloodline for generations, just as noble acts can. What Harklet proposes is not quite a blood debt, but it is more alike than unalike. The centaur will only be with you for so long as you can show respect for their ways, something even Narrow Valley has failed at recently.”

“Let me worry about that. Would there be any way, once a clan war started, to end it with minimal bloodshed?”

“You would need one of the Heroes of Legend.”

He held his axe out. “I believe I have that covered. Now, let us talk of specifics.”

#

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