Manticore Rampant

Ch 8 - One Creature, One Boat

"So odious!" added a third.

"Hear them!" shouted Rodrick. "Hear the eloquent voice of the people, crying out at the injustices of the current system. Crying out for a better way. Well, friends, I'm hear to tell you about a better way. A fairer way. In my travels around the world, you see—"

"What a steaming pile of slag," grumbled Hobe. "I dunno, this used to a nice quiet tavern, where a bloke could enjoy his ale in peace, instead of being subjected to a bunch of bloody politicking. If you ask me, if it's not one bunch of idiots in charge, it's just another. And I bet none of them are gonna give me my boat."

Slash wasn't sure he agreed (about the interchangeability of the idiots, not the boat) but in the interests of group harmony elected to keep his doubts to himself. He looked up and down the street, as far as the angle of his position and the semi-opaque edges of the window allowed.

"Why haven't the High Council put a stop to this, and tossed old Rodrick—and half his fellow chanters—in the dungeons?" he asked. "They're not usually the kind to take even a whiff of sedition lying down, never mind open protests in the street. I'm surprised the place isn't swarming with guards."

"That's why." Carri gestured with her glass at a tall, slim gowned figure standing beside Rodrick's box. "Lady Kay. Youngest member of the High Council. And, you might say, the most...open-minded. If a gathering has her approval—and her presence—there's not a whole lot the council can do about it. At least not without stirring up a fuss, and most of them are too busy looking after their own interests to be bothered with a fuss."

Slash studied the young woman, gazing at the crowd with a serene smile on her unlined, aristocratic features.

"Okay, fine. I can see that. But why would she be in favour of a mob who want to tear down the body she's part of?"

The elf gave Slash one of the enigmatic smiles he was already growing tired of. "Well, it could be that she's an inherently fair-minded woman, with a strong sense of duty to her country and people, and that she genuinely wants to provide them with a better and fairer system of government."

Slash waited. "Or?" he prompted.

The smile became a grin. "Or, it could just be she wants to annoy the crap out of little Lord Farty Hirschnopple. He did try to have her dog offed, after all."

Hobe nearly choked on his ale. "He did what?"

"You heard me. Apparently that's what passes for top-level political intrigue in Irmway these days."

"But...but...why would he want to do that?" asked Slash. "What in the world could he possibly have to gain from assassinating a dog? And how do you even know about all this stuff, anyway?"

Carri shrugged. "Hirschnopple and Lady Kay can't stand each other—beyond even the usual High Council level of vitriol. So, maybe it was to make good on a threat. Or maybe it was to lean on her to get something he wanted. Or maybe he gets his jollies from having dogs snuffed. Maybe all of the above. Who can tell how that tosser's tiny little bwain works? As for how I know, that's easy—I was the one he tried to hire to do it. I guess even for someone with his questionable standards, it's the kind of job you tend to outsource."

"Bloody hell," muttered Hobe, looking down into his tankard. "Maybe it is time for a new bunch of idiots."

"So, what did you do?" asked Slash.

Carri took another sip of wine and regarded him over the rim of her glass. "I may not be one of the Irmshield's select few any more, and I might have had to take some jobs I'm not proud of just to make ends meet, but I still have standards. And dog-offing falls very firmly outside those standards. So, I told him to sod off. Although 'sod' may not have been the exact word I used. And then I popped around to Lady Kay's mansion, told her all about it, and scored a month's worth of sweet, all-expenses-paid work as a dog bodyguard. Easiest gold I ever earned. Got to know her a bit while I was at it. She's not so bad, for an aristocrat."

Slash shook his head. "That's some story. And I guess the moral of the story is, the sooner we get Vazor back on the throne—and give the High Council the arse—the better. How's our toy soldier doing?"

In answer to his question, Carri retrieved the jar and held it up. Shining brightly, without so much as a flicker, the little orb was pressed firmly against the wall of its glass enclosure, leaving them in no doubt as to the direction it wanted to go. Faces lit by the white glow, the party stared at the jar.

"It's pointing towards the docks," said Carri.

"Yep," agreed Slash, "it sure is. Seems the Nanny was right about the Erinoquo. And"—he clapped Hobe on the back—"looks like you might be gonna get that boat after all."