The Arbiter
Copyright© 2025 by James Girvan
Chapter 31
We discussed how we’d meet and where we’d do it. I passed him twenty Silver and told him I’d release his short sword and the other thingy he had later or when I was far enough from Mace (or him) for it not to matter. I was keeping the black knife for the time being as well as his ‘set’ the weird silver jug and plate. I didn’t say the term ‘hostage’, but I was ensuring that there was some carrot and a whole lot of stick. I was clear that he wasn’t to try to pull his weapons back even if he needed them for the rest of the day. I needed to convince ‘Sam’ (Mace) that Robert was dead, at least long enough to get away from the guy.
Robert was staying in the portal for another few hours, I guess I could have easily given him a different confiscated weapon for protection against anything that might be lurking, but I was pretty sure there was nothing left in here. I described approximately where the spiders dens were and where we’d found a stone, but he already knew where he was going to look. More importantly he knew when and where he had to meet me later. Apparently he’d been a driver quite a bit before becoming a Weapon.
I arrived in the Start Room and bought a couple healing potions after ‘divesting’ myself of some trash that was cluttering up my inventory. Spending the Silver like that was a pain, but it might serve to ‘muddy the waters’ of my inventory (and my intentions) if it turned out that Mace could see it too. He’d never been all that clear on the full capabilities of his Skill.
Not that I had either.
His face as I walked out of the portal into the park was unreadable, unlike the guy I’d left behind in the portal this was not a guy you’d wanna play poker against. Unfortunately I’d thrown in my ante earlier on when I thought this was just going to be an easy low-stakes game. I held some good cards, but when push came to shove would Mace fold, or would I have to bust him?
“They wanted to finish up so I told them I’d shoot the dice for you for the prizes that were found. We both lost out.” He opened with a bored tone. I didn’t care much about the magic goodies we found in there, and to be honest neither did he. “We each earned twelve Silver after the portal fees were paid. They tell me the only reason it was above five was that you showed them how to effectively search the spiders dens.” He finished, I stole the dozen Silver pieces from his Inventory knowing he could see it leaving.
“I found a Brass key...” I shrugged. It should have been included in the loot to be devised up if we were being honest.
“They each got one of the prizes so we would have had a shot if there’s been one more item to divvy up. Let sleeping dogs lie, or if it doesn’t sit well with your sense of morals then you can give it to me.” Mace had already turned and was walking away, certain that I’d follow. I had the briefest thought of stabbing him in the back right here but the moment passed. Too many witnesses. Instead I chucked the key at his back, Hard.
A twist of luck had me hitting him square in the back of the head with the big brass lump. Even with our healing rate, that was going to leave a mark for quite a while.
Mace turned with the first real emotion I’d seen in him in weeks. Barely controlled rage is an emotion, right?
“Fucking prick!” He spat. I calmly kept on walking, aiming to pass him on his right side. Again I had to control the impulse to try to kill him right here.
“It’s yours then, the key? I got the rest of Vittorini’s stuff.” I flashed his short sword and the sword breaker for him to inspect. “It’s only fair you get something out of that run. Maybe you can finally open that bloody Brass Safe you’ve been dragging around for as long as I’ve known you. Remember, collectors pay good money for the empty ones so don’t just throw it away” I brushed past him, basically daring him to do something while reminding him of all the good I could do for him if he kept me around.
Mace looked at the ground at what had hit him ‘cause there was a pause then I heard “Really?” I just kept walking to the car.
Off-balance, I just needed him off-balance.
“I don’t even want to know what’s in it. Can we get back to the hotel please?” I chirped over my shoulder. He’d caught me up by the time I made it to the car. Damn his long legs.
“It’s a...”
“I said I don’t want to know.” I snapped angrily “I just had to kill a man with a knife, it wasn’t some stupid animal-monster or Halloween creature but a goddamn Man who was scared, who had his weapons stolen from him and who screamed as he died. If you got a cutesy spell or a fucking garter-belt with run-proof stockings I couldn’t fucking care less.” If Robert hadn’t tried talking peacefully (under duress, but it was peaceful) it would have gone exactly like that.
I avoided his car, seeing the two archers seated and talking near some stone benches. I made my way over there and managed a trade for the thin bladed sword that the one of them carried. The Brass Button, the armour I’d loaned to the Healer, a skeletons shield and sword left my inventory and went into his.
Robbery, if you only saw the sword as a delicate thin blade that you could only use on soft opponents or hang on a wall, but I had knowledge about it that he hadn’t.
‘Blade: 4:3’ it read, and it fit in the same single Inventory slot with the other three ‘Set’ items I already had.
Four items for a set of three.
Mace drove and I looked over my inventory and sulked. Planning my move and what of his was coming with me when I left. I knew he’d go straight to the hotel, drop off his stuff in his room, then go back to the gym to stretch, and work out a bit before showering. It was his pattern, and patterns can be exploited.
We pulled up at some chain hotel and I was glad it wasn’t the Waldorf Astoria or some such nonsense. Low-key probably meant low surveillance and I could see the subway stop another 200 meters down the road from where we pulled in. I grabbed my bags from the trunk, careful to bring it all in. It wouldn’t do to leave it behind would it?
We got separate rooms, a few doors apart. We’d been assigned adjacent adjoining ones but Mace nixed that with the guy at the desk. “Chronic snorer...” he pointed his thumb over my shoulder at me. The truth was that I did snore a bit, but what he actually disliked was the ladies I’d had in my room. The sounds and smells wafting past those double-closed doors was still pure torture for him.
“Chronic mastabator.” I replied with a deadpanned expression, pointing back at Mace. The poor desk guy tried not to laugh and Mace flipped me off. There might be hope for him after all when I’m done with him.
We went to our separate rooms.
If you had to disable or kill someone’s larger, stronger, and better trained than you then you need to have a plan and take them by surprise. I made it to my room, threw all my bags on the bed.
I quickly showered, but didn’t change my clothes. The portals were the perfect ‘anti-bug, anti-tracking device screen and I wanted to get away clean. Locking the door, I’d left the room with only my ‘inside bag’ with me. It had some stuff that would be hard to replace like my licence and passport. It was unusual to have brought it into a Portal, but I needed to be sure that they were clean. I dumped the bag on the pool deck with a towel by it. Hopefully the thieves in this place were eating dinner not prowling the first floor.
I made my way over to the gym, a small group inside was working out and pretending not to notice the onlookers, and another small crowd outside; glancing in frequently but pretending not to be too interested. I turned to use the can. Mace was doing lower back stretches, so I had at least five minutes.
Everyone who is knowingly going into a stressful situation has their own ritual. Some people fidget, repeat their lines over and over, or go through breathing exercises. One of my hockey teammates even used to throw up. It got to the point where nobody in the dressing room even paused their conversation while he was leaning into the trash bin or the toilet heaving his guts out. Coach got used to delivering his pre-game pep talk over the smell of puke.
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