For the second time in seven moons, Gabriel and his team of misfits found themselves high-tailing it out of town. Granted, this time they were not a mere several paces ahead of the town watch, but it was still becoming a habit that Gabriel was keen to shake. This particular retreat, whilst arguably less urgent, had the unfortunately memorable quirk of being made in high heels. It was a humbling thought that Gabriel was able to rank the moments he had turned tail and fled in order of quality and comfort. It briefly crossed his mind that if ever he were to achieve such fame as to have artists reproduce renditions of his exploits, they would only really need to learn how to paint his back.

All things considered, though, the escape had been a success. They left Goyun tied up with blankets, which he very much enjoyed, grabbed their things from the dressing rooms, and, within a mere turn, they could scarcely smell Tindra on the wind. Chloe had been mercifully absent, and the evening’s entertainment coming to an end provided enough noise and movement to mask their clandestine exit. Only Liza had really noticed, or cared, when the pair of serving staff bailed without completing their duties, but Gabriel pacified her with a fairly impressive teary display, wailing something that was largely incoherent but featured the words “Goyun” and “bastard”. Whatever Liza thought she heard, it struck a chord. She ushered the redhead out as quickly and as quietly as possible, and promised to take care of the younger ‘woman’s’ workload. Gabriel didn’t feel great about abusing the lady’s maternal kindness, but the feeling was quickly drowned by another, only distantly familiar, sensation that he did enjoy – victory.

Once they had agreed to hide Rodney from sight, Goyun became very forthcoming. In fact, he became downright chatty. It was somewhat depressing to discover, but it seemed as though Goyun had absolutely no qualms about discussing business. He gave names, transaction details, even trade tips, all with the casual air of a salesman passing an associate on the road. Perhaps the moment of terror had served to sober him up somewhat, or perhaps he was so far gone that he really did think of the mercenaries as old friends, but, either way, Gabriel couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that they could have avoided what would (hopefully) be the weirdest evening of his life, if they had just nonchalantly sat down and asked Goyun a few questions to begin with. Gabriel decided to keep those fears to himself.

When they were a reasonable to extra-reasonable distance from Tindra, Vish dutifully, and begrudgingly, returned Gabriel and Bling to their rightful bodies. Gabriel was much relieved. Bling looked mildly disappointed.

They walked a little further that evening, but eventually they were forced to stop. It turns out that body-swapping is somewhat exhausting, and Gabriel suspected Bling had, spitefully or innocently, taken his body on a half-day sprint around Tindra. Muscles that Gabriel had deliberately suspended from daily use seemed to ache inexplicably. Still, they were tired to a man, or woman, so the hiatus was generally all-round appreciated.

“I swear by the aether, I am going to be finding these things for days,” Gabriel grumbled as he flicked his hair from side to side, trying to trace the phantom jingle of a bell, tangled somewhere in his greasy locks.

Bling cackled at her brother as she braided her hoops and trinkets back into her own vibrant red hair.

“I thought it was quite a fetching look,” Figo confessed.

“True, you actually looked vaguely, what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh yeah, successful,” Vish elaborated.

“I looked like a chandelier.”

Bling threw a clump of soil at Gabriel, but she didn’t appear truly offended.

“So, what now? I’m guessing that Goyun didn’t have what we’re after,” Figo smiled ruefully.

It was a fair deduction, Gabriel thought.

“No, he didn’t, but that wasn’t totally unexpected. We didn’t walk away empty handed, at least. We have some very promising leads, and we were able to muster enough funds to keep Lydia on the pay roll,” he said with extreme positivity.

Gabriel was skirting over some details here. What had actually happened was that Lydia had robbed Goyun blind, and had threatened to throttle Gabriel when he suggested that they might make better use of that money as a team. Unfortunately, Lydia didn’t seem to think it at especially pressing issue that they have bedding and food for the next few nights. The captain opted not to tell Figo this, though. The young man was clearly fond of the brunette behemoth, even if they did clash on ethics from time to time. It wouldn’t do a great deal of good for team morale to remind everyone that, while they were all mercenaries, Lydia was a Mercenary, with a capital M (which apparently stood for: ‘M-I will fuck you up if you cheat me out of so much as a gods’ damned copper’).

“So, I guess it’s going to be Jandrir after all,” Figo sighed.

Gabriel nodded, “It’s our best bet. Goyun said that he had three primary buyers. The artwork he sent to a curator in Badanis, one Hoskin Minnow, but most of the rest went to Jandrir. The silverware, knick-knacks, and the like, those went to an Allison Magrit. And the jewellery? That he pawned to a gentleman who goes by, the not at all ominous, ‘Screamer’.”

“Interesting nickname,” Lydia said as she chewed.

“If it’s a nickname,” Vish pointed out.

“Who in their right mind names their child ‘Screamer’?” Gabriel had to ask.

“Who in their right mind names their child ‘Gabriel’?” Vish had to answer.

“Anyway,” Gabriel went on, largely unphased, “I think we should check in with him first.”

“The one called Screamer,” Vish stated, rather than asked.

“There is method to the madness.”

“Are you sure you don’t have those two the wrong way around?” Vish mumbled.

“Jandrir is so far though,” Figo moped, ignoring the mind-mapper.

“It won’t be so bad, Figo, a lot of people claim it’s the most spectacular city in the Kaden Circle,” Gabriel comforted.

“Eh, it’s alright,” Vish added.

“Oh, I know, it’s just,” Figo hesitated, “I didn’t really get to tell my mother that we would be away for so long. I didn’t really get a chance to tell her much at all, actually,” he flicked what passed for Figo as an annoyed look in Lydia’s direction.

“We’ll send word to her when we get to the next town, I promise,” Gabriel smiled.

Figo nodded glumly, and pulled his cloak a little tighter around him.

“To be honest, at this stage? I’m kind of with Figo. I’m not sure my calves are up to the task of traversing the globe to track down the entirety of Vagalad’s lifelong accumulated wealth,” Vish said, massaging the offending demi-muscles.

“I’m hoping we won’t have to. I reckon if we can get back his wife’s jewels, and give him information about the rest, then that’ll probably be enough. Hence why I think we should try and contact this,” he sighed, “Screamer, fellow,” Gabriel explained.

“That still sounds like a lot of work, and that’s on top of the work we’ve already done. Honestly, this has already been far too much excitement for my taste. Big payday or no, I say we call it quits and head back to a place with beds. Do you remember beds? Granted, they weren’t much better than the floor, but at least there the lice there were familiar,” Vish said.

“My mother changes that bedding monthly!” Figo protested.

“I’m fairly sure she just swapped the straw from my bedding with the straw from yours. I’m pretty certain she’s senile, Figo.”

“She is not, she just gets a bit confused. She’s still distraught at losing father!”

“Yeeah, how long ago was that again?”

Figo wisely deigned not to answer.

“All of this arguing is pointless. In case you had forgotten, we are fugitives in Gladstone, Gabriel reminded them, “We want Vagalad’s money, absolutely, but we need his help to clear our names. If we go back without his endorsement then we stand trial for sure, and, if we go back having pissed him off? I think a betting man would place their money on us hanging.

The others quietly murmured their agreement.

They were nestled in a thicket, a little off the road they had been following. The air was cool, despite the season, and the lack of fire was acutely felt.

They had learnt a good deal from Goyun, but one thing they hadn’t learnt was the whereabouts of Tulcetar, and his team of sullen sentries. The mage might be ahead of them, or he might be behind. The odds of him learning what had transpired between them and Goyun were slim, but Gabriel reasoned that a run in with him would be awkward either way, seeing as, as far as he was concerned, they were a bunch of travelling masons on a mini-pilgrimage to Tindra. Sure, they might be able to come up with some vaguely believable story to justify the fact they had stayed in town for a grand total of half a day, but Gabriel felt like he had done quite enough acting and bullshitting for a while. So, it was a fireless, as well as foodless, night for the mercenaries.

“Where to?” Bling asked, startling everyone.

“Where are we going?”

She nodded sharply

“Umm, Jandrir,” Gabriel said, reminding her of the conversation they had just had.

Bling puffed out her cheeks, “Where now?”

She looked excited and, dare Gabriel think it, engaged.

“Uh, well, there are two routes to Jandrir from Tindra,” he drew Bling a map in the dirt, “Jandrir is North-East of Tindra. The most direct route goes via Miscus, in the middle here. However, the area is hilly, and hemmed in by woodlands, making it dangerous for caravans and travellers. Therefore, most traders head East, to Punbus, and then take a barge upriver to Jandrir. Do you see?”

“So, you want to go to Ponbus in the hopes of catching up with Goyun’s carts,” Lydia concluded.

“It’s an outside chance, but it’s a chance,” Gabriel admitted, “Besides, I think I’ve had my fill of forests for a time,” he grimaced.

“How do you know all this?” Figo said, his admiration clearly written on his face.

“Well, once we managed to get Goyun to talk-”

“Hold up,” Vish interrupted, “’We’ managed to get Goyun to talk?”

“Yes, Vish, ‘we’.”

“That’s funny, because that’s not how I remember it. You see, I remember managing to coax him upstairs, I remember Lydia and I interrogating him-”

“Ineffectively,” Gabriel reminded him.

“-and, most importantly now, I remember Rodney here was the one who finally got him to speak.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, “Rodney, I’m sure you are aware, is a cricket.”

“Yes he is, Gabe, yes he is. He is also, by my reckoning, presently the most valuable member of this team.”

“The cricket?”

“Current jobs completed with the aid of Rodney? One. Current jobs completed with the aid of Gabriel?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Zero.”

“Bollocks.”

“That’s right ladies and gentlemen, zero.”

“It was my idea that led to us getting any information in the first place!”

“Very debatable,” Vish dismissed, “I think you should congratulate Rodney. What do you think, Bling?”

Bling nodded enthusiastically.

Vish held the cricket out towards Gabriel.

Gabriel repeated himself for Rondey’s benefit, “Look, it was my idea that led to you getting any information from Goyun… Why am I explaining myself to a cricket?”

“Because he’s your superior.”

“He is not.”

“He definitely is. If we were in an army, he would outrank you.”

“Hardly likely.”

“In fact, I think Rodney should be the new leader, what do you guys think?” Vish posed the question, “All in favour, say aye.”

“Aye!” Bling said, both hands shooting into the air.

“Aye,” Lydia said half-heartedly.

“Come now, Vish,” Figo objected weekly.

“The ayes have it! All hail Rodney, our lord and saviour.”

“We are not following the commands of a cricket,” Gabriel said each word slowly and deliberately.

“That’s Captain Cricket to you, soldier.”

“Captain Cricket should have ordered you to keep your mouth shut,” a voice hissed from behind Vish.

The mind-mapper squealed, and heroically sprang to Lydia’s side. Lydia was already on her feet with sword in hand, but even she hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps over the sounds of Vish’s riling.

Several paces away was a snub-nosed, crooked looking man, draped in a black cloak over cracked leather. He held a wicked looking knife the length of a forearm, curved slightly towards the tip. He was not alone.

“Stay back, I’m warning you,” Figo said, brandishing his arrowless bow.

A cruel snicker sounded from the bushes as another man came forward, “I don’t think you’re going to give us much of a fight, pretty boy.”

The newcomer was wielding a light mace, that appeared tarnished with use.

“I don’t think they’re going to give us much of anything,” a third voice, a woman’s, said.

“Paupers,” someone spat disgustedly from behind her.

The shadows masked the others. They moved languidly around in the darkness, like clouds drifting across the night’s sky.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, and then again more enthusiastically, “Yes! We are paupers. We are so poor that we don’t even have food, or tinder for a fire! Really, you are wasting your time here; we have nothing you want.”

“The ugly one has nice armour,” the female voice said again.

“And I want the brown man’s robe,” the second man said.

“Wait, really?” Gabriel looked over at Vish, who was still in the pastel blue number Chloe insisted her waiters wear, “You actually want that?”

“It is a nice cut,” Vish agreed, admiring his, objectively unimpressive, physique.

Gabriel decided to try again, “If we give you the robe-”

“Awh, man, no,” Vish whined.

“-will you leave us alone?” the captain, or former captain, asked hopefully.

“Hmm, a tempting offer.”

“A tempting offer indeed,” another voice agreed.

“But I’m afraid we also want blood.”

“Yesss, nothing satisfies quite like blood,” a rasping voice declared, it didn’t sound human.

“Ah, in that case,” Gabriel said, “bollocks.”

The bandits closed in.

“How many can you see, Lydia?” Gabriel asked.

“Six.”

“Seven,” Figo corrected, “there’s an archer in the back,” he said with a pained look at his own, empty quiver.

“Seven against five,” Vish said, exhaling hard through his nose.

Gabriel snorted, “Oh, so we’re not counting the cricket anymore?”

“That was including the cricket,” Vish said, giving Gabriel a sidelong look.

---

Back at Chloe’s, Goyun began to stir from the nap he had been having.

“You look like you’ve seen better days, Goyun.”

Goyun unleashed a gargantuan yawn, “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to check up on you.”

“Mm, aren’t you kind.”

“It looks like you had an eventful night.”

Goyun shrugged as much as his makeshift bonds would allow, “Not much more so than usual, to be honest.”

“But not quite average. Isn’t that right, Goyun?”

“If I’m to endure a conversation with you then you can at least fetch me a drink. My head is killing me,” the merchant grumbled, tugging lightly at his restraints.

“I think perhaps you’ve had quite enough.”

“Yes, you would think that, wouldn’t you? Well, make yourself at least semi-useful then and untie me. If you won’t fetch me a drink then it seems I must do it myself.”

“Who did you speak to, Goyun?”

The merchant squinted, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, I would. Who did you speak to, and what did you talk about, Goyun?”

“More interesting things than this, I assure you.”

There was a sigh, “I was hoping you would be a little more cooperative,” a brief pause followed, “I need to know what you said last night, one way or another.”

“You can put that knife away. We both know you won’t use it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because, my dear fellow, you’ve always been so frightfully boring.”