Chapter 6: Reality

After reading the files for several adventures, Pēteris and his team decided to rescue the Damsel Katja Analyst, who was being held by a small-time but dangerous warlord named Hastert. Hastert was using Katja as a sex slave. While he occasionally braved the burn for unprotected sex, he typically used sheaths made from animal intestines to protect him from most consequences.

He had around forty men in a fortified position on a hill overlooking the road. From there they sallied forth to collect ‘taxes’ from travelers and frequently to rob those who were wealthier than the norm. He was canny enough to keep his local predation low enough to avoid the attention of those who might gather to burn him out.

This adventure seemed somewhat more difficult than normally attempted by a rookie Hero. However, Hastert’s stronghold lay on the road Pēteris’ group needed to travel between the two locations where they could acquire the needed plants for their potions and salve. Continuing on beyond the second location would, sooner or later, put them within Hastert’s sphere of influence. His spies or local snitches would surely report their presence along with the rumors they started along the way.

The bank vault on Chaos looked and smelled like every description in Daniel’s stories, but this time it was real.

Robyn looked at Pēteris and hugged him and was soon joined by Miriam, who said, “I never doubted it was real, but there is a difference between faith and proof, isn’t there?”

They all exited into the bank’s main lobby, and Pēteris stepped up to the clerk’s window to ask to see the manager. A voice from an open door sounded, “Show them back, Justin. Show them in.”

They were ushered into a small office with a huge man seated behind an equally large desk. Rising, the manger introduced himself, “Good afternoon, I’m Robert Hamm. What can I do for you?”

After introducing himself and his companions, Pēteris explained, “These ladies’ grandfather opened an account for us at a different branch, and we are here to finalize the arrangements and take possession.”

Robert responded with a broad smile, “If you give me his name and yours, I can handle that easily.” When the details were supplied, he continued, “I see three boxes and one joint account, all needing the same password and a single item to identify you and activate. Shall we start with the boxes? They are treated somewhat differently.”

Robyn produced a lock of her grandfather’s hair, and Miriam told Robert, “The password is ‘Moira’s having a baby’.”

“Okay, then,” he replied and led them back into the vault where three boxes were waiting. He consulted a list and guided each of them to stand in front of a box. “A box belongs to only one person, and only that person can access it. Each box has a hole associated with it.” He pointed to show them. “Put your finger into the hole for your box, and the box is forever keyed to you and is yours as long as the rent is paid. I’ll leave you while you do that. The contents are no business of mine. See me again when you are ready.”

When they each had paired with their box, the lids opened to reveal the contents. Each box contained a sheathed knife, a boot knife, and a purse containing several conchs, shells, quads, and quite a few pinches. Robyn’s box also contained a beautiful longbow and two quivers of arrows. Miriam had been gifted with a sword that was balanced and gripped as if made for her, and Pēteris had three beautifully balanced throwing knives. His box also held four pouches of lead shot, each pouch containing a different size.

The trio was armed. Minimally armed, but armed.

To further their persona, each box held travel kits containing local medicines and paraphernalia. For other supplies and equipment, they were now on their own.

Closing the boxes, which promptly disappeared, they exited the vault to seek out Robert.

“Your bank account is currently set up so that each of you alone can withdraw funds. If one of you dies, the others own the remainder of the funds in the account. BUT, to change the conditions of the account, such as to add another person, all three of you must agree and put your finger in this hole that gives you access.” Robert paused.

“What if we wish to set the account so that anyone of us can change conditions?” asked Miriam. “I think I’d like it so that any one of us could manage the account.”

“Then each of you should put a finger in the hole and state that you wish to change the account terms in that manner.” explained Robert. And that is what they did.

“Now, young travelers, spend a few more minutes with me, and I’ll describe local conditions and provide a warning or two,” Robert advised mysteriously. The trio returned to their chairs to listen.

“I’m not entirely sure if what I’m about to tell you is local or prevalent elsewhere,” Robert began, “but there is a relatively new element to Beavis - that’s this town. They hang around my bank paying close attention to folks leaving who were not seen entering.” He winked. “If the persons departing are heavily armed, they usually are not bothered. On the other hand, those exiting with little in the way of obvious weaponry are frequently accosted as soon as they are clear of the bank. Some survive, others do not.”

“Now that is really useful information!” Pēteris exclaimed. “If it happens that way elsewhere, and some of the reports do indicate a preponderance of otherwise not so reasonable attacks, it would certainly explain a lot.” Each of the Companions hugged Robert, and Pēteris shook his hand.

“I don’t like losing customers - not at all I don’t,” the large man explained. “Someday, maybe you’ll come back and tell me a tale or two. I’ll even pay for your meals and ale.”

“Oh, no you won’t,” remonstrated Robyn, “it is we who will owe you.”

“One question more before we go,” injected Pēteris. “Do the ambushers typically use arrows, sword, or what?”

“Well, they are going to think your lovelies are cock-burners,” Robert said thoughtfully. “My guess is that they will accost you with swords as you cross the street and try to kill you to take your ladies. This newest bunch doesn’t seem particularly skilled with bows, or any weapon for that matter. Their success is achieved by ganging up and brute force...”

As events developed, his guess was deadly accurate.

Pēteris unwound two of the cords holding up his pants and pulled a leather decoration from his shoulder. In seconds he assembled a sling of exactly the length he usually carried. His knife was on his belt and the three throwing knives were in specially made ‘decorative’ but reinforced slits on his chest.

As they exited across the covered wooden porch of the bank, Pēteris had a shot in the sling he carried in his right hand. His left hand held several more ready to use. The trio was so intent that they barely noticed the stench or the nastiness as they stepped onto the dirt street.

Robyn on his left carried her bow as if she were toting it for Pēteris, but two arrows were held parallel to the bow, also ready for use. Miriam, on his right, carried her knife unsheathed in her left hand with the blade along the inside of her arm. Her sword was sheathed but tilted forward for a quick draw.

They were laughing and talking loudly as if they hadn’t a care. When they had moved four paces from the bank, five men stepped out from the building directly across and started towards them. One in the center, perhaps the leader, looked to their right, then to their left. Clearly, there were others behind them.

“My left,” claimed Robyn to indicate that she saw the glance and would take responsibility.

“My right,” was Miriam’s echo.

The leader of the ambushers drew a sword and yelled, “Hey you, we want...”

At first sight of the drawn sword, Robyn spun and launched two arrows, taking out two of the three men about to charge from the left of the building.

The first shot from Pēteris’ sling had taken the leader in his right eye, silencing him. His second shot took out another, now charging attacker. Then they were too close for the sling but not the throwing knives. One more was down, two were closing in on their front, and one was battling Robyn.

Miriam had easily dispatched the lone attacker from their right, having parried his sword thrust with her suddenly appearing knife and running her sword through his throat. She turned to help Pēteris by taking on one of his opponents who had clearly never had a meaningful lesson in his life. With his death, Pēteris was left with even odds and was holding his own but not making progress.

She glanced to Robyn, and seeing her at a reach disadvantage, Miriam turned and skewered the attacker Robyn was fighting. Then the sisters turned to watch Pēteris dispatch the last ruffian. “Remind me never again to take a knife to a sword fight,” Pēteris quipped. “It’s a good thing he didn’t know how to use his.”

They stood sweating and panting looking at each other, still on the alert for more ambushers. As the adrenaline began to dissipate, a look of distress appeared on both sisters’ faces. Pēteris, knowing what was coming, said kindly, “If you are human, the first kill is always hard. Don’t hold back. It’s gonna come, so get it over with. I felt a lot better after puking on my first kill.”

White faced, the two turned as one, bent over, retching, and emptied their stomachs into the street. Mercifully, with the tasks ahead, they missed the bodies of their attackers. “Almost always happens after a first kill,” Pēteris informed them. “Not pleasant, but it shows you are human.”

Then, seeing a twitch from the former leader, Pēteris concluded the man was alive and possibly biding his time before renewing his assault. He walked over, picked up the man’s sword, and dispatched him with a thrust through his already wrecked eye. For insurance, he made rounds and did the same to each of the fallen.

“Wow!” Pēteris whirled to see a young teen. “Can I touch your sword for luck?”

“I guess it is mine now,” Pēteris answered, “sure, go ahead.”

“Yeah,” said the reaching youngster, “Dirty Jake sure won’t be needing it anymore. Serves him right. He would never let me touch it.”

“So you knew him?” questioned Pēteris.

“Oh yeah, he was staying at my father’s inn. Looks like three empty rooms now that his whole gang is dead.” There was no unhappiness in the boy’s expression.

“All gone? Every one?” Pēteris sought confirmation.

“Every one,” affirmed the young man.

Glancing over at his now recovering Companions, Pēteris asked, “If I give you the money, can you manage to bring back a pitcher of watered wine and four mugs?” He handed him several pinches, wanting to see how trustworthy the youngster was. “And tell your father that we’ll be wanting a large, quiet, clean room for at least three nights.”

He had Miriam and Robyn sit on the bank’s porch, feet in the street, while they waited for the teen’s return. Considering that there had just been a major fight, the town was strangely silent - or then, maybe not strange with unknown arrivals killing off three times their number.

While they waited, Pēteris began searching the bodies that lay in the street’s filth. He combined all the found money into a purse removed from Dirty Jake, who by far had the most. He stacked weapons on the porch beside his ladies and piled accessories like fire-starter kits in another pile. As he worked, he also stripped the corpses and piled all clothing and footwear.

He had only finished with Dirty Jake and one other, when the young man returned with the requested pitcher. He started to hand the remaining pinches to Pēteris, but was stopped with, “Hold on to them. You’ll need them for other errands. Now, give the ladies full mugs, and then I’ll take one. The other is for you.”

Turning to Robyn and Miriam, he advised. “Rinse and spit a few times before you drink. Then drink slowly.” He added, “When you feel better, you can give me a hand. You need something to do.”

He took a swallow from his mug and returned to stripping the corpses. As he worked, he talked with their newly acquired assistant, “I’d like to know your name. Mine is Pēteris, and the two ladies are my wives. Miriam is the red head and Robyn is the blonde.”

“Les, I’m called Les,” answered Les politely to the two women. “I’m pleased to know you.” He sat beside them and watched when they rose and joined Pēteris stripping and sorting.

When they were done, they each had decent swords, knives, and travel kits. They chose the best of the leftover weapons and accouterments and returned to the bank vault to stock each box against future need. Inside Robert’s office, Pēteris asked him about the town’s seeming lack of interest in the aftermath of the fight.

Robert’s answer was enlightening, “Dirty Jake and his gang have had the town cowed for about eight weeks. They’ve accosted women, extorted from merchants, and killed anyone who resisted. Now three strangers walk out of the bank - two of them women - and wipe out the whole bunch, hardly breaking a sweat. They are afraid of you because they don’t know what to expect.”

Pēteris dumped the contents of Dirty Jake’s purse onto Robert’s desk. “Tell me how this compares to what you’d expect to find in a typical gang leader’s purse.”

“Well,” Robert said, almost thinking out loud, “it’s more than you’d expect, even for a whole gang of itinerant ruffians, but not nearly what I’d anticipate after seeing them in action here. You need to look for a much larger sum when you search their rooms and other belongings.”

“So where will all this leave the town?” inquired Pēteris.

“In really desperate shape,” Robert answered. “For weeks these evil men have done nothing but take. There is very little cash for merchants, anyone for that matter, to restock or buy.” He continued, “I don’t know why you’re asking or what you’re thinking, but there is no way you could just give the money back. In the first place, there’s no way to know where any given amount came from.”

Pēteris thought for a moment and asked, “What we need to spend to stock ourselves won’t make a dent; but what if we use some of the loot to provide or underwrite no-interest or low-interest loans through your bank? I wouldn’t want my name connected, but what do you think? Would that assist the town in getting back on its feet?”

Then Pēteris had another thought. “And no child should go hungry, unclothed, or without shelter. A little hunger might motivate the parents, but their children need protection. Maybe you can find a needy widow who can assist and help accomplish two goals at once.

“Mark me,” Pēteris added forcefully, “no child is to be indentured or sold into slavery. No funds of mine will be given or loaned to anyone attempting to buy or sell a child. And when I return, I will deal with any who try to do so.”

Robert thought for a while and replied that he thought he could make it work, but he expressed a need for Pēteris himself to make known his antipathy to bartering or enslaving a child.

Pēteris set up a separate account with part of their new funds, shook hands with Robert, and returned to the street.

The trio gathered all the excess weapons, explaining to Les that they needed to trade or sell their surplus ‘loot’. Directed by Les, they proceeded to the weapon shop where the owner greeted them. “Welcome, my name is Arthur. How may I help you?”

Pēteris returned his greeting and stated, “We find ourselves with an overabundance of weaponry. Some as you can see is in good shape, but having appropriated the best of the lot, I think you will consider most as mediocre at best. On the other hand, we find ourselves under armored.”

“I’d like to trade for mail shirts for the three of us,” explained Pēteris, “and we may find ourselves in possession of more weapons to trade.”

“If you are looking for half-sleeved shirts and not hauberks, I can probably fit you. Mine are split for riding, but do not protect the thighs to the knee,” the owner stated, “and I have no mail hoods. As a shop in a small town like this, I will not have much variety to offer, and the smithy may need to modify those to fit you correctly.”

The owner directed them to a wall where several shirts were hanging. “Try them on and see if they will fit while I look over your trade. I also have felt shirts to wear under the chain, but in this warm weather, you’ll do better to seek out the widow Foster and buy or trade for her linen.”

Finding shirts that were close to fitting, Pēteris and Arthur engaged in the normal routine of bargaining. When both were satisfied, Arthur marked the chosen mail shirts for the needed alterations, particularly expansions to accommodate the women’s breasts. He promised to take them to the blacksmith, and told them, “His fee will be a quad for each shirt, as precise workmanship is required. Your trade will not quite cover that, and I will need an additional six pinches to pay him for his work.”

Pēteris discussed where to dispose of his unneeded new acquisitions, and then he and his Companions departed to retrieve them and move on to the inn to look to their room.

When they reached Les in front of the bank, they found him holding forth to three boys and a girl about the same age. Also present were two men and a woman waiting patiently.

Les greeted his new friends and explained, “These people are interested in trading for the clothes and boots of Dirty Jake’s gang, but they have no money. I told them that you would likely pay to haul the bodies to the midden. The usual fee for so many would be three pinches, maybe a quad.”

He pointed to the woman, “This is the widow Foster. For a fee, she offers to mend and wash the clothes so as to bring a higher price.”

Pēteris turned to the men, “I will pay in advance, four pinches to see this trash cast upon the midden. For the boots and clothes, you will need to deal with the widow Foster, as I have need for other of her services and plan to make her my agent in partial payment.”

He paid the two the promised fee, and turned to the surprised woman. “Arthur commended you to us as we need linens and other clothing. My name is Pēteris, and these lovely warriors are my wives, Miriam and Robyn.”

“If you are willing,” he offered, “why not strike whatever bargain you might with Les and his friends, and have them carry these goods to your home. After you have a chance to inventory and value the lot, meet us at the inn to discuss our needs and your requirements.”

“Sir, you’d trust us strangers with all these goods, unaccounted for?” the widow wondered.

“No, we trust the friends of Arthur and Les,” declared Pēteris, “I don’t think you will let us down.”

She nodded and motioned to the five youngsters to gather up what would be her livelihood for the next while, and they departed.

Pēteris called to Les, “We’ll see you at your father’s inn. You did well, and I’ll probably have more tasks for you and your friends.”

When they arrived at the inn, the innkeeper, his wife, and a serving wench met them. He made a half bow and greeted them, “Welcome. My name is Hans, my wife is Lisle, and my daughter is Maggie. Les tells me you wish a room for three days. My best room costs two pinches for a night and includes breakfast. Meals and a pitcher of watered wine are a pinch each.”

He grimaced and continued, “But then, Dirty Jake and his gang took over all my rooms, and paid nothing. If you pay for the three nights in advance, I would only charge you two pinches for three meals and half a pinch for each pitcher of watered wine.”

“Done,” said Pēteris, reaching for his original purse. Extracting a shell and handing it to Hans, he continued, “We may be staying longer, so let me know when this runs low. Our trade is healing, and we need to replenish some of our supplies. If you agree, while we are here, we will see those needing aid here in your common room.

“There will be some who need to barter, and I ask you to accept any food into your kitchen as partial payment for our own room and board.” Pēteris looked for an answer.

“Agreed,” replied the dazed innkeeper, who could not believe such a deadly trio could be made up of healers. “Let me show you to your room. It and the other two will need to have Jake’s possessions removed to make room for your own. Les and Maggie can help for two hours, then they will be needed to help Lisle with cooking and serving.”

“Let us be fair,” answered Pēteris, “if there is that much in those rooms, we will likely rent one of the other rooms and combine the contents until we can sort things out.”

The innkeeper, beginning to see a bright side to recent events, smiled and replied, “We are yet again agreed. Come, we shall see what we shall see.” He led the way up the stairs.

All three rooms were filthy. The former occupants were swine and no one had been allowed to enter and clean. Dirty clothes and other objects were everywhere, so it was impossible to ascertain what and how valuable the contents of the room might be.

Robyn shuddered, and stated, “Let’s leave this for now. I need to eat and drink before tackling this mess.”

When the three were seated with the inevitable bowls of stew, thick slices of bread, and mugs of watered wine, Robyn took charge and asked Hans and his family to join them for a few minutes. “Clearly, this is a large task before us. I can’t imagine what that bunch was planning.”

She looked at the family of four sitting uncomfortably before them - well, three - Les was completely undaunted. “I have a proposal,” she began, “we will pay your family to empty and set to order - first, the room we will stay in. Anything you deem of real value from any room is to be placed in the far corner of the first room. The remainder is to be carried to the second room, as are the contents of the third room. Sort clothing into a pile, weapons into another, and other items into piles that make sense to you. Again, money and other valuables go into our sleeping room. Our sleeping room is to be clean before time for us to retire.”

She looked each in the eyes and continued, “In your reckoning to us, be generous to yourselves, but not greedy. I know I don’t need to tell you to be honest.”

Four voices stated, “No milady, not at all.”

They all looked up when the widow Foster entered. Hans and Lisle excused themselves to return to their tasks. As they left, Miriam instructed, “Anyone seated at our table is to be provided a clean mug, and our pitcher of watered wine is never to be empty. I think that we shall play hosts to a number over the next few days.”

Robyn began by reintroducing the trio to the widow and inquiring if there was a name she’d like to be called. “Mavis,” she responded.

“Well, Mavis, we find we have a lot more clothing upstairs,” Robyn started, “and what we’d like is to send it all to you to clean and mend and sort by sizes. We have been traveling light and need to outfit ourselves.”

She explained, “We need your help, especially in getting clothing that will fit over and under our mail, and we’d like to hire you to coordinate and bargain on our behalf. In return, we will leave for you to sell, all the clothing that we don’t need. From that, you will take your fee, and any excess you can deposit into the bank for us. Will that work?”

“I think so,” responded Mavis, “as long as you can give me money for those merchants who will not accept barter. If Les and his friends can bring the rest of the clothing this afternoon, I should be able to give you an accounting tomorrow about this time.”

Robyn nodded to Les and Maggie, and they ascended the stairs to begin their tasks.

Turning to Mavis, Pēteris looked at her, and said, “This is NOT to be bandied about. I charged Robert, the banker, with using some of our money to help the town recover, and I wish you to help him. It wasn’t only robbery that wounded you; it was the helpless feeling. We can’t buy your way out of that. The townspeople must do for themselves.