Chapter 8: Hero Pēteris Returns

“That wasn’t at all romantic!” declared Miriam, as she and Robyn punched a shoulder. “But she’ll forgive him,” added Robyn, “she’ll definitely forgive him.” She thought a moment and said, “But knowing Soo-Min, she’ll make him pay.”

Beavis’s bank vault was as they remembered - especially the smell. Well, one can remember that the smell is bad, but even an excellent nose gratefully forgets the details and strength of that smell! They each inserted a finger into the appropriate hole, and when the three boxes appeared, they quickly opened them and began to clothe and arm themselves.

Deciding to withdraw traveling funds rather than remove full purses from his box, Pēteris removed three empties and closed his box. Three boxes disappeared with a pop, and the trio entered the lobby of the bank. As expected, Robert, the former manager had obtained his transfer, and the clerk was also new. Polite enough when Pēteris asked to make his withdrawal – all in the varying sized coins used on Chaos – he became petulant and less accommodating when Pēteris requested less of the pinches and other smaller denominations and asked for a recount of the money given him.

Pēteris slammed his gauntleted fist on the counter, causing the bank’s guard to stand, his sword half drawn. When he saw that Pēteris was not threatening, and knowing the clerk to be both lazy and annoying, and maybe even more than a little crooked, he sat back to watch the show. One could say that he was willing do his own job, but he really wanted to see the despised clerk forced to do his properly.

A florid man came from the manager’s office and demanded, “What’s going on here? Why the noise. Why are you threatening my clerk?”

“Your clerk - I’ll give loose acceptance of your granting him that title – refused to give me my money in the denomination I requested,” Pēteris replied. “And I think he may be unable to count, or is too lazy to make the effort, because his tally and mine do not match.”

The manager looked at his clerk and told him to step back from the counter. “Your guard can attest that I’ve not touched the coins,” Pēteris said, and named the sum that he had requested. When the manager began to count, the clerk stepped forward, a long knife in his fist.

An arrow pierced each eye, and the clerk dropped, his knife clattering loudly as it hit the floor alongside him. Robyn and Miriam had newly nocked and drawn arrows, but seeing that the guard had not moved, they relaxed and observed as the by-play continued.

The bank manager looked at the fallen clerk and stepped up to the counter. While Pēteris watched, the manager counted out loud and told him, “There is one quad less than the amount you stated. I offer apologies, sir. May I add three more quads as reward for you and your ladies catching out the thief?” After ascertaining the denominations to meet Pēteris’s needs, he counted out the coins, and Pēteris divided them into the three empty pouches and gave one to each of his Companions.

“I’ve only been here a short while, you see,” the banker stated. “Oh, and I am named Louis (he pronounced it Loo-we.) That fellow was here when I arrived, my predecessor having departed several months ago, and there was an interim manager. Business was not as I would have expected, given the note left by the bank’s long-departed manager. Anyway, I am grateful.” He paused, then indicated the body, “If you wish, you may step behind the counter to retrieve your possessions from the scum. Given the circumstances, you might find more in his lodgings at the inn.”

Pēteris did as suggested and decided to keep the knife and the purse he found. He retrieved his ladies’ arrows and wiped the points on the corpse’s shirt. ‘Guess I’m still not particularly squeamish,’ he thought to himself.

Standing, he told Louis, “Robert, you know, your predecessor, had an account to help widows and orphans. If it is still active, sell the rest of this stuff and use the proceeds for the same purpose.” When he asked if Louis knew the account and could manage it, he received a nod and a stare.

“You are the healer trio,” Louis asked. “I should have known, but I never looked at the name on your account. Pardon.”

“None needed,” Pēteris told him. “And yes, we are that trio, though I think it better if it were not known around.” He looked over his shoulder at the bank guard, lifted an eyebrow, and received a wink in reply. “We’ll head over to the inn for a meal and a room. Anything in your clerk’s room that we don’t require, I’ll have set aside for the same purpose and send you word.” With that, they left the bank and stepped into the filth-marred street.

Outside, Pēteris had a thought, “I should have asked about any known bad folk in town. There still could be lurkers seeking the supposed treasure left over from our last visit.’

Miriam and Robyn shared the same, more mundane thoughts, ‘Damn, the smell is even more disgusting than I remembered – worse than inside the bank. I can’t wait to get on the road!’

At the inn, he had reason to remember that thought.

On Chaos, as was his habit when entering an unfamiliar place, Pēteris carried his sling with a pebble or shot already slotted. When the three entered the inn’s common room, they heard a shout, “That must be them. The bastard and his bitches – they’re back for the gold!”

Pēteris and his Companions stood just inside the door, looked, and waited – eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. There were no friendly or even familiar faces in the room.

Most of the room’s occupants remained seated, and many continued eating with expressions ranging from interest to open hostility. Five men, armed in a way that indicated they were not simple townsfolk, rose, drew a variety of weapons and spread out to envelop the new arrivals.

The stone from Pēteris’s sling took the rightmost in an eye, not killing him, but putting him out of the fight – at least temporarily. Robyn and Miriam each downed a would-be flanker with arrows, and there were two left charging with swords raised high. Pēteris had dropped his sling in favor of a throwing knife and caught the foremost in the throat.