Nottoofar || Book 3: Ring & Shield {Humour + Romance Fantasy}

2. Menace Indeed

His lips moved silently - and she wondered if, indeed, it was her name she had read on them. The ringmaster gave Knucklewasher's limp form a small kick, but the fighter didn't even twitch. The Taurian grabbed Xander's wrist and lifted his arm, signalling his victory. Xander didn't seem to notice, his gaze fixed on Jack.

She remembered the younger him: in the citadel in the Duchy of Fleck, just a few months before the beginning of the Great War, he'd been standing in her quarters in the middle of the night, his lanky body quaking, his massive hands clenched in tight fists. "I'll be of age next Spring. I'll be allowed to choose my mate. Wait for me." His expression had been impassive, but then his lips had twisted in distress. She'd refused him then, of course. After all, he'd been as much as a child; in the eyes of most races, not just among Buggbears.

Jack shook off the sudden recollections and looked around. Winnings and losses were now being calculated all around her; silver changed hands - and immediately, the first fight broke out, right next to Jack. And a few yards to her left, she saw her merc grab a Dwarf by their lapel. An Orc stepped to him, from the other side, their massive hand dropping on his shoulder and spinning him. Her freelance shouted something; and the Orc lifted him under his arms like a tot and shook him vigorously. The merc pushed his hand into his doublet - and pulled out a familiar pouch. It had been bequeathed to her by her Nana, and normally it was hidden at the bottom of her travel sack. It had a few locking and fending spells on it; but it seemed the scoundrel had found a way around them. There must have been something in her contract with him that she'd missed. After all, off-guild binding spells often had loopholes in them.

Jack rushed towards them, elbowing the punters in her way; solely concerned with returning her family heirloom, her eyes locked on the skirmish.

When she reached the lowlives, the pouch had already travelled into the Orc's bag; while the Dwarf was still roughing up her sword-for-hire. The latter hardly interested Jack.

"Hey!" she barked at them.

The ruffians turned; the Orc took a step towards her. Jack's hand lay on the hilt of her short sword.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Who's asking?" the Dwarf grumbled and casually kneed Jack's merc in the goolies.

The fact that the hireling had already been crouching after a punch in the liver, helped with the height difference.

"The lolly you'd just taken is mine," Jack asserted. "I want it back. He's got more silver hidden on him, I'll tell you where it is. Just return my property to me."

She stretched her hand out and pinned the Dwarf with a firm glare. She'd had dealings with his kind before; there was a certain protocol to it. He'd probably refuse, and she might need to pay thrice whatever the pouch could contain; but she had no choice. There were a few small trinkets inside, only valuable to her; including her Nana's cheap copper ring, the only memory of Jack's Grandpa.

The Dwarf opened his mouth, no doubt, to start bargaining; and then a low growl rumbled behind Jack. She whipped her head - and stared at Xander's sternum. The Orc jerked; his hands flew up; and he shoved the pouch towards Jack.

"Darling, I wouldn't," a lilting, mannerly voice came.

A tall slim figure emerged from the shadows behind the dambers. Jack saw the Dwarf lower the battle hammer he now clutched in his hand.

"How about you leave it, my honourable mountain friend?" the same person suggested nonchalantly, and their long curved blade slid out of the scabbard with a hiss. "I can hear a pint with your name calling for you in the inn."

The newcomer was an Underdarkling: their purple skin was smooth and glowing; long thick lashes framed their bright magenta eyes; their pink hair in dashing sweeping waves above their high brow. They narrowed their eyes at the Dwarf; and the latter stumbled back.