When the High King decided to go into his city he didn't do it with a thirty guard strong shadow. He went with one man- Ohlo. Ohlo Innisman- Grendal's personal servant/ guard/ henchman- was now the one person Clarence actually trusted to watch his back. Ironic, due to the fact that the scaring across it was largely down to Ohlo- and Grendal's- sport of him as a child.
To Clarence, Ohlo had been a nightmare haunting his dreams for longer than he cared to admit. The reason he woke in the night shivering after he had run from the court at the age of fifteen. Ohlo was his abuser- his tormentor- and now the one man he trusted to keep him safe.
It would have been laughable if the threats to Clarence's life were not so real.
"Are you sure you know where you are going?" Ohlo asked him for the fifth time. His Scandinavian accent had never dimmed- even though he had been away from his native continent on the world Innis for so long. "You are taking such a long time to get there." Ohlo rested his plate sized fists onto the hilts of his twin swords as he walked. His beard reached his shoulder-blades- once it had been longer. Eyes so blue they seemed to glow with dark humour scanned the path ahead of them. "If I didn't know better, Majesty, I'd think you were lost."
"Maybe I'm enjoying the night air."
Ohlo snorted in response. It was a nice night for Everment City on the world of Morningdew. The rain had passed, the steep cobblestone streets that wound from mountain down to dock were highlighted with moonshine. The air had the heady scent of pine-forests and autumn leaves. But Ohlo was right. Clarence didn't have a clue where he was.
"It's this way," Ohlo pointed with his thumb back the way they came. "Why are you personally finding Fraggle of Northdale when you could have the castle guards drag him back to his bed?"
"Because Silvan's ranting is a horrible way to learn your brother is dead and I've not been able to see him since." Clarence was not surprised he had to spell it out to Ohlo, he wasn't sure the man had feelings beyond his own self-gratification and a singular loyalty to Grendal. "Having him dragged home by guards is insulting." He rounded on Ohlo, his green eyes catching the moonlight as he did. So much so that Ohlo put his hands up in mock surrender.
But Clarence was the one who surrendered to Ohlo's directions as they turned west, down towards a district known as Bridge Street.
Clarence wasn't dressed as a king tonight, but he wasn't dressed poorly either, and Ohlo- who never actually seemed to change out of his leathers looked every bit his bodyguard. Never mind that Clarence alone could take on most men and win- Ohlo was a soldier in his own league. From the way his eyes creased as he took in the tavern on Bridge Street, he had already decided that they wouldn't face any true threat inside- other than their own sloppy drunkenness if they chose that path.
"We are here to collect Fraggle of Northdale to his bed," Clarence said to the door man, who looked them both up and down then turned his eyes away into the night- ignoring them completely.
Ohlo cleared his throat and peeled back a fold in his jacket to reveal the royal broach. The doorman paled, and banged on the iron and wood coach door- the servants entrance. A moment later a man greeted them with a bow. "Servants to the High Crown, we welcome you," he simpered.
"Fraggle of Northdale," Clarence said again. He didn't feel much like repeating himself, though he was enjoying the fact that nobody knew who he was.
"Was here good sirs' but is no longer."
Clarence sniffed with impatience. "You will let us in to look for him," he said. Wondering if Fraggle had told the staff to keep the Castle Guards away.
"Of course, but he is not here, his friends took him to the Cellars."
Ohlo's laugh was cold and Clarence turned to look at him with the unspoken question burning in his eyes.
"How did Northdale seem when he left, ahi?" he asked, his lips smiled but his cold blue eyes had no hint of mirth.
"He was walking, he was fine- it was his idea."
Ohlo raised his eyebrows and looked at Clarence. "Fraggle has been very silly," he mused.
~
They could hear the Cellars before they could see them. Smell them too. Oakum and tar, rotten fish, iron of blood and an undertone of vomit.
"This is not somewhere Northdale would choose to go," Ohlo stated the obvious. The fashionable Fraggle of Northdale- King of the Druid owned- Leprechaun rented world Northdale and prime exporter of fashionable cloth, luxury fabric and spices would rather be seen dead than come to a place like this.
Clarence slowed before they reached the public house that gave entrance to the Cellars. He held out a hand and, without breaking his eye contact with the dismal white facing of the pub said, "Tell me what i'm looking at?"
"Guess," Ohlo chuckled.
"Fighting?" The Leprechaun High King's eyes shone with something close to nostalgic longing.
"Oh yes."
"No magic aloud?"
"Eh," Ohlo shrugged. "There are rules, yah."
"You come here?"
"All the time," Ohlo smiled, his tiny white teeth like pearls in his beard. "But you should not."
Clarence rolled his eyes, then his shoulders. "Too dangerous?" he sighed, "Honestly?"
"Yah, you are not some gutter brat in Gelding Town fighting for sport any more. You are Clarence O'Leary the High King of the Leprechaun Empire. If you get hurt Grendal will kill me."
Clarence didn't point out how many times he'd been hurt by Grendal and Ohlo. He put the thought aside and focused on Fraggle. "If Fraggle was taken here it was because he was being robbed. We might have to fight to get answers."
"If we don't get answers, we will leave and I'll come back with men and torches."
Clarence frowned, "What was Fraggle thinking leaving without a guard anyway!"
Ohlo looked at Clarence like he was mad.
"I have you," Clarence pointed out. "And I can Jump."
"I'm amazed you care about him at all after what he did to Grendal." No doubt Ohlo was revealing in the idea that Fraggle had met misfortune. After all, the Elemental had captured Grendal and held him as his private prisoner, torturing him for information on Beatrix's welfare and whereabouts without ever telling Clarence or anybody else what he was doing.
"His brother is dead, his partner Jamie was killed in the first attack on the Council and he's the only Elemental advising a Leprechaun court. Of course I care."
Nobody asked them to check their weapons at the door, and the entrance fee was a copper coin. Five if they wanted a drink too. From the way the barman offered whilst looking over their too nice clothing, they would get more than they bargained for. Wanting to keep his clothes and his money intact, Clarence declined, but did roll a cigarette before they took the steps into the underbelly of Everment city.
A thrill shivered through him. He'd made good money in organised fighting back in Gelding Town before he became King. The name Ren Green had sent fear and bloodlust to the far corners of the Transworld Network. Pete the Captain of the Squid- now the Admiral of his Everment fleet- had made a fortune from whoring him into the path of other men's fists. He must have been squaring his shoulders or something because Ohlo chuckled and lent in close. "There is no way in the many hells that I will let you get in the ring."
"But-"
Still laughing, Ohlo pointed across the dark cellar floor, through a mess of sweaty, drunk bodies, to a number of vaulted booths. Clarence allowed himself to be led, but he didn't take his eyes off of the fighter in the centre of the crowd, topless, sweat pouring down his torso and blood down his face as his opponent swung for him. How he wished he was in there, rather than out here looking pretty.
"Greg Harris," Ohlo laughed, sliding into one of the bench seats next to a man with a ledger.
"Ohlo Innisman," he looked up, eyes bloodshot from working under candlelight, a big black bruise spread out across his cheek and up into his temple. He didn't look too happy to see the Scandinavian who nearly took up the whole bench. "Who's your-" he paused, looking for the right word- "Friend."
"Ren, my friend is Ren."
'Ren' moved to sit on the opposite side of the table.
"Will Ren be fighting?"
"Yes," Clarence said at the exact time as Ohlo said "No."
Ohlo turned and looked at Clarence with indignation. Clarence shrugged.
"No," Ohlo said again. "We are not here to play, Harris. We are about the King's business."
Harris spat on the floor.
Clarence raised an eyebrow.
"Disapprove of my disapproval, do you?" Harris leant forward. "Fuck his highest Majesty for bring war to our doorstep." He eyed Clarence up. Clarence to his credit, didn't respond.
Ohlo snorted, "You should be careful who you say things like that to. Our King can be cruel to those who oppose him."
"Look what he did to his wife," Harris agreed. "Those who followed her when she marched here too. Never seen a bigger bonfire."
"Aie, they say it could be seen like a burning star in the sky on the Fringe," Ohlo's smile grew cruel. "Think what horrible things he would do to a dingy little man like you if he caught you talking like that."
Harris's eyes narrowed. "You're on the Kings business?"
"We are following Fraggle of Northdale."
"Don't know him." That was too quick, Clarence thought.
"He came in here," Ohlo continued. "Maybe with people he said were his friends, maybe a little drunk." Clarence wasn't sure where the silver in Ohlo's hand had come from- it wasn't there a moment before.
"Maybe," Harris shrugged. "Maybe we get a lot of drunk rich idiots stumbling into places they don't belong. Don't mean I know 'em all. Maybe your Northdale used a false name."
"I am thinking he may have paid you for a man's company."
Harris scrunched his nose, playing with them as he fainted ignorance.
"And extra to keep the Castle Guards away."
Clarence was losing patience, and perhaps his blood was up from watching a fight but he couldn't understand why Ohlo wasn't acting more frightening.
"I will pay you more Harris, to tell us where he is."
"Why bother," Clarence growled. "He'll just have us chasing our tails."
Ohlo considered it, then looked back to Harris again, who didn't look happy.
"I'm not telling you shit for free. You know how this works Innisman. How it's always worked."
"What then, is the price of a little bit of true information?" Ohlo crooned.
Harris sucked his tooth as his eyes traveled up and down Clarence's body again- "Who's bastard are you?" he asked. "You could earn more than they pay you as a castle guard if you were one of mine. Ladies would love you, men too."
"They call me Ren Green."
"Sure," Harris smirked, the legendary name had made it to Everment City. "And I'm the Queen's Mother."
Ohlo chuckled, but his hand had gone to his knife. Harris noticed it too.
"That would be stupid- this is my house, one word from me and your dead."
The Scandinavians' teeth flashed white in the candle light. Harris tried to slide away but was hemmed in on both sides by Clarence and Ohlo.
" Kill me and Grendal of Innis will need a whole new spy network down here."
"It doesn't seem that you are very forthcoming for the man who collects our information. I remember agreeing to pay you very well for the service you provide but it seems we are being sold short."
"Yeah, my memory ain't always so good. Like I said- what are you going to do for me?"
"I'm going to start by slicing off your ears," Ohlo told him. "You can still work for us without them."
"Ohlo," Clarence muttered. "Behave."
"I am, I could start with his toes, that would have a much more lasting effect. Maybe I'll eat them so the physicians can't stick them back on ahi?"
Harris turned a shade of green.
Clarence leant forward on his elbows. "How about a trade, you pick me somebody to fight- I win- you tell us everything."
Ohlo sat back with an exasperated growl, "Why is my life beset with idiots?" he grumbled.
"Deal," Harris said and spat in his hand for Clarence to shake.
~
It felt really really good to be standing on the blood soaked sawdust, undressed down to his cotton shirt, silently circling the huge battered bastard opposite him. Whispers running through the crowd said the man was some kind of garrison captain. From the looks of him he spent more time here than he did at his job.
The other whispers said Ren Green had come out of retirement. And then questioned it, owing to the fact Clarence was just shy of thirty and didn't look like he'd been flattened one too many times. Clarence would put on a show- he always did. Made it look more flashy than he needed to, used his opponent against him, a few stylish-
Fist!
He ducked by instinct alone, down to the floor with a swinging leg which the man jumped.
Ok, not so much of a pushover.
They distanced themselves, watching with renewed caution. An old knee injury on the right, knuckles swollen and not fixed by a physician. This man didn't have enough money for a magical healer, he'd be fighting desperate.
They closed, Clarence allowed the man to get in a few punches, noting how fast he struck, where he placed the hits. He made his own slower, sloppier, but not overly so. When they moved apart again he noticed the man looking much less cautious. More confident.
Gave it time, circled in and out, Clarence ducked a few swings that would have knocked him out clean, landed a few lazy punches of his own. Tried to decide if the man was toying with him too.
He was.
Clarence didn't think for a moment that his opponent was as shit as he was making out and he had the mark of Clarence too.
"Shall we stop pretending?" the fighter asked and launched an attack so brutal that Clarence nearly stepped out of the ring but he still took the blows. Waiting, ever waiting.
Another attack, Clarence dodged again but got a knee in his gut all the same. He caught Ohlo's eye. Miserable and bored, Ohlo's arms were crossed, his fingers tapping on his bicep. He puffed out his cheeks and looked up as the morning bell sounded two.
Clarence got the message.
He sprang up from the floor, lightning quick he punched the man's throat, grabbed his arm and yanked it back around behind him, up, and out of it's socket with a sickening crunch. A foot on the back of his neck, pressing his face into the dirt won the match. The crowd went silent, then erupted- Ren Green was back- the living legend was alive and in Everment City.
~
"You are not and will never be a living legend," Ohlo protested. "Not as Ren Green anyway, your majesty."
He pulled aside a curtain in a side room that stank of salt and bread. Two men looked up from where they appeared to be eating a third- none of them were Fraggle.
"Sorry," Clarence muttered and pushed the curtain back. "Didn't you hear them chanting my name?"
"You are a fool," Ohlo sneered. "Too many of your old friends know the name. Now I will have to burn this place down. Literally burn it- with everybody trapped inside."
"Don't you dare." Clarence practically growled as he pulled aside the next curtain. A man was drinking wine alone, lounging naked but for a purple cloak with gold embroidery. "Where did you get that?" Clarence asked.
"Honey, wouldn't you like to know?" The man winked at him.
Ohlo drew his dagger and motioned with the blade towards the man's crotch, "I would like to know, yah."
The man's smile grew, "Oh darling, if I had a copper for every man who comes in here with a knife and a set of demands." Clarence almost believed he wasn't afraid, except for the way his eyes kept moving to the curtains waiting for the guards to come and haul them out. Guards that were not coming.
Ohlo opened his mouth to say something- no doubt pathetically threatening, but Clarence's hand shot out and he pointed at the floor.
"Blood."
The whore froze.
Ohlo's guard rose so quickly Clarence felt the air shift in the room.
"I can explain-"
"You better, or you'll lose your livelihood."
"They told me to entertain him whilst they robbed him, but then others came and dragged him out and he fought them- but he was so drunk." The whore swept up and pulled his hair out of his face as he practically pleaded. "He was so drunk he couldn't hardly speak, and they just stormed in and took him."
"Who?" Clarence demanded.
"Oscar Royce and his gang." The whore said the name like it meant something. Clarence looked to Ohlo to confirm.
Ohlo shrugged. "Why don't I know that name?" he asked the whore.
"He's new- he's recruiting and he's awful," the whore spat. "He's the one that killed Fisher Black."
"Aie, Now I know. Yah- I've been trying to find out a name." Ohlo shrugged, as much of an apology as Clarence had ever seen from Ohlo. "He can't escape my master for long. I think I should send him a message of my own." Ohlo ran his hand over his beard. Clarence didn't much feel like reminding him that his master was right there in the room with him.