15. Fenric
Today was going to be a great day.
The sun was shining. E.V.I.L. had found a new temporary residence, and it had even more space than their last place in Pomor.
Everyone was relieved to be off Rain’s ship.
And, most importantly, Fenric had a good lead on how to get his mother’s treasures back.
While his search through Bjornkill for Calder Rigs the last two days hadn’t turned up anything except dead-end leads, he had a good feeling about today.
Getting the chance to beat the shit out of Lance a few days ago hadn’t hurt either.
Just a shame he couldn’t have done the same with the other “heroes” traveling with Lance, but that would have to wait for another time.
Unfortunately, none of his group were going to get much done about their grand plans without money—preferably lots of money—which was why he and Belstrom were headed to The Drunken Bard.
Maxie had tried to sneak into the trip, but they’d figured his sweet face might not help when it came to landing jobs, so Malfas and Hapi had found other ways to keep the young man occupied, preferably not poisoning anyone.
The tavern served a decent lunch and had a job board.
Large enough to cater to more than a hundred revelers at once, the place offered a variety of ales, liquors, and spirits, as well as three hearty meals a day.
Close to the port, it was the go-to meeting place for travelers.
Most towns of any respectable size had a tavern like this—a great place to eat, find a job, and catch up on the local gossip.
“Well, that is quite…unexpected.”
Fenric snapped his head around from where he’d been looking at a stall offering an interesting assortment of bits and bobs to find Belstrom had halted in the center of the road.
He peeked around the man’s massive girth to find the elaborate fountain that had stood in the town square was now rubble.
It had been erected ages ago to honor some hero for saving a kitten from a tree or helping an old lady cross the street or some other bullshit nonsense the asshole probably hadn’t meant to do.
Not that Fenric was bitter at all. Nope. Not a bit.
But the ridiculously expensive white marble structure with the different spouts and geysers that had been a marvel of science and magic was now a shattered disgrace. If it wouldn’t have gotten him run out of town, Fenric would have laughed his ass off.
Fenric pressed his lips together and schooled his features into something that could be described as serious. He cleared his throat twice to ward off the last of his giggles. “What happened?”
That was all it took.
As if by magic, a nosy pedestrian was all too happy to stop and pass along the gossip.
“Didn’t you hear? That hero Gale Reeve made a complete spectacle of himself yesterday.”
Fenric’s heart leapt straight into his throat while goose bumps rushed down his arms. The way the young man had twisted up the word hero like it was something dirty in his mouth gave Fenric fresh hope.
“What? How is that possible?” Belstrom demanded, while Fenric was still basking in the man’s simple statement.
“We’re all assuming the man was drunk.” Fenric nearly snickered at how Gale was now downgraded from hero to a mere man.
“But yesterday evening, he rushed out into the street completely naked and jumped into the fountain, where he-he-he…fondled himself in front of the entire town while demanding someone…well…”
“Someone what?” Fenric snapped. He didn’t care if he was talking to the high priest of some purity sect; he wanted to hear every filthy word.
The man with the straw-like hair leaned close and whispered, “Demanded someone fuck him.”
There was no holding it in now. Laughter exploded from Fenric, staggering him so he wove on unsteady legs. One of Bel’s gigantic hands landed on his shoulder and eased him aside while helping him to remain on his feet.
“But how did such a glorious fountain come to be decimated?” Bel asked.
“Several large dock workers waded into the fountain and tried to get him out, but he fought them. In the chaos, it was destroyed. Last I heard, he was sitting in the town jail, claiming someone bespelled him and the whole situation wasn’t his fault.
However, everyone knows he spent the entire day drinking and whoring at The Secret Moon and other brothels with a bunch of heroes.
No one believes him, and even his own friends aren’t trying to get him out.
It also doesn’t help that someone also said they saw Hero Lance Carrington this morning with his face beaten black and blue. ”
Fenric giggled and Bel gave him a shake to silence him.
“Old Peter the blacksmith said he saw a big group of heroes ride out of town before first light this morning, and they were supposed to leave soon to help with some noble’s problem, but they were headed in the wrong direction. Seems both that noble and Gale Reeve have been abandoned.”
The snickering started and Fenric knew there was no stopping it.
He’d beaten Lance senseless and now Gale had been left behind by his buddies.
He would be stripped of his “hero” status before getting locked in the dungeons for a few months or fined.
Whatever. Didn’t matter. Gale’s fancy life was over, and Lance had to know his days were numbered.
The taste of justice Fenric had enjoyed at The Secret Moon had left him wanting more.
He’d initially wanted to simply get his mother’s treasures and kill those responsible for her death, but with Gale in jail and Lance running with his tail between his legs, Fenric knew that wasn’t enough.
He wanted all those men destroyed just like this fountain before he killed them.
How had Gale gotten himself into such a state?
Could it have been Lirion? The strange pink-haired man had been with Lance when Fenric had snuck into the brothel.
Could he have some vendetta against the heroes as well?
Lirion had mentioned searching for a woman.
Fenric’s gut turned a bit queasy at the idea of Lance and Gale having anything to do with her disappearance. He hoped Lirion found her soon.
“We value the information you have bestowed upon us,” Belstrom said while their informant stared at Fenric like he was having some sort of fit. Bel tightened his grip on Fenric’s shoulder and propelled him toward The Drunken Bard.
Fenric was still snickering as they entered the dimly lit place that was already crowded with people despite the early hour.
The scent of stale alcohol, good meat, and pipe smoke permeated the air in a familiar mix, reminding Fenric of nearly every tavern he’d ever been in.
They walked to the far wall, which was covered in wanted posters, job listings, hunts, and other odds and ends on scraps of paper.
The handwriting was a fair mix, and the spelling was ghastly in too many instances, but this was the best way to scrape together money on short notice.
Bel grunted as he moved up to the wall. “We cannot permit Hapi to see such drivel.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Bel lifted his beefy hand and pointed briefly to the wanted poster for the necromancer.
The drawing of the blond elf was awkwardly wrong.
The eyes and nose weren’t too bad, but the artist had given him this comically square jaw that looked nothing like the reality of Hapi’s sharp jawline, which ended in a pleasantly pointy chin.
“Yeah, that’s hideous.”
“The bounty for Malfas has failed to rise in more than a month.”
Fenric scratched his jaw, his eyes skimming over all their bounties. “Most people see him as a madman who needs to be locked away for his own well-being. They’re scared for him, not of him.” Fenric sighed, his hand falling back to his side. “All our bounties are shit. Our villain ranking sucks.”
“Malfas has repeatedly lamented over the last few days how we did not debut on the list yet again,” Belstrom murmured in a low voice.
“We all know it’s always gonna be either Vormire the Vile or Dark David the Destroyer in the top spot. I’m beginning to think Rain might be right and even the Villains List is all bribery.”
Belstrom grunted softly, either acknowledging Fenric’s words or agreeing, he wasn’t sure. “It has been an age since we pursued a truly evil endeavor that left its mark on the people.” Belstrom leaned closer, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “I would wager the masses have forgotten us.”
“Well, evil shit is gonna have to wait a little while. We need money first, and I’ll take it by any means necessary—good or evil.
” They needed coin for their own daily living expenses, and by Fenric’s accounting, he owed the group five silver and twenty coppers for funding his recent adventure at The Secret Moon.
He didn’t like being in debt to his companions.
On the way to the tavern with Bel, he’d picked a few pockets, but he’d not had a chance to go through his ill-gotten gains yet.
It was doubtful, though, that it would cover what he owed.
“What about this one?” Belstrom reached out and pressed his finger into a lengthy job posting.
“Lord Mire is requesting the assistance of a band of heroes to rid his village of a finfolk infestation. Apparently, the creatures have started to flood the region, and the good people of his village are in danger of being trapped.”
Fenric’s upper lip curled. “You know anything about finfolk? I’ve never encountered them.”
Belstrom shook his head, his eyes still locked on the board as he skimmed more postings. “I have not had a personal encounter with their kind, so any knowledge I possess is hearsay or something I have acquired through text.”
Fenric swallowed a sigh. “Yeah, but I trust your judgment.”