Chapter 10

Two Lollipops

True to the ranking guards word, Boule was handed over to me. The rest of the guard had been glad to be rid of the familiar, as Boule had put up a fight. Handling a zombie familiar had made the guards wary and fearful. They too possessed a cowardice, no doubt inspired by their pimple-headed ranking officer.

Boule hadn’t bit anyone, but several of the guards' leather gloves had scratches. They complained about risking their lives to zombie bites, and marred armor.

“I would have smashed his bones on the spot if he’d bitten me,” one of the guards said.

“You’d be within your rights,” the ranking guard said.

“That wouldn’t be right,” I said.

“Yea, yea… Go claim your bounty. Get out of my sight,” the ranking guard said.

His minions laughed. I was livid for a moment, but chose to keep my mouth shut. Their laughter almost faded away as I left them. It wasn’t until I reached the bounty hall that their laughter finally left my mind.

Boule was hunched over in a stupor. In my arms. He felt feeble and boney. He growled every now and then, and a rivulet of drool occasionally dripped from his mouth.

“Can you not do that on my boots?” I muttered.

Boule wheezed. Not in answer to me, but as part of his zombie state.

The bounty hall loomed over me. The sea market was open even here. Stalls of goods were crammed together. People shouted and bartered. There was a basket weaver, weaving while conversing.

A butcher was poised to divide a pig. He smiled warmly at me. His cleaver squealed to a stop with one final smack through pig neck and into the butcher’s block. His smile faltered as a group of austere men passed by. One of the men, shackled, was escorted through the bounty hall doors. His head dropped and hung low as he entered. His largest captor smiled a shark’s smile, while holding the door open for him.

The door didn’t quite close. It swung ajar. Beckoning. Boullerd grumbled and grabbed onto my sleeve.

“Of course I’m not going to turn you in,” I said.

There were a lot of people around. A few guards, but none that had been involved in arresting Jack or Boule. As long as I wasn’t forced to go to the bounty hall, I would do things my own way.

“Why don’t we see if we can find Jack. Sound good?”

A rivulet of drool dangled from Boule’s lip and swung away like spider’s silk in the wind as I turned in search of city hall. Strangers reluctantly helped point out the way, telling me to look for the oldest building.

There was a doorway without doors in the face of the building, and I tucked Boule behind my back, asking him to hold on tight. Beneath my cloak, I wore him as a backpack. It seemed like a good idea at first, until I felt a dampness in the middle of my back only moments later.

“Gross! Please stop drooling,” I muttered.

The interior of city hall was dark. There were no windows, only what light the entrance let in. The only other light was an insignificant oil lamp and with an angry flame. The smoke from the lamp was black, acrid, smelling of bacon.

The light of the lamp put a woman in high contrast. She looked up at me, then at the oil lamp.

“Pig fat,” she said. “Cheaper. Though it hardens when it’s just a tad too cool out.”

“I can smell it,” I said.

“I can’t. Not anymore. What can I help you with?”

“A friend of mine should have been brought here recently.”

“A quiet man,” the woman said. “He’s the only one I’ve seen come through in the past hour. He’s got a face made from the sea.”

“If his name is Jack, that’s him,” I said. “Could I see him?”

“He’s under investigation, third room down the hall. There is a bench outside the door you’re welcome to wait at. Do not enter the room. If you're worried about him, you’ll be able to listen in by the door. That’s all I can offer you. Besides a lollipop.”

She gestured to a grease-smudged glass bowl of brown lollipops.

“Thank you very much,” I said, waving disinterest at the offering. “Down the hall?”

“Third door,” she said.

The corridor was almost dungeon dark and stank of pooled smoke. With nowhere for the smoke to vent, it had aged into something dank and fetid.

The bench by the third door offered a lower, better atmosphere below most of the smell. The voices coming from the small, light filled gap in the door gave me a nice distraction.

“Not necessarily,” an old man said. “If what this man says is correct, then he’s a free man, ineligible for the zombie class bounty.”

“My monkey familiar, too,” Jack said.

After a pause, the old man said, “Yes, young man. Your monkey too. Bear with me while I study these guild laws.”

Boule’s fur was rough and wiry. He didn’t seem to care one way or the other if he was petted. He showed no interest in any of the food or water offered from my inventory. At least he wasn’t drooling anymore. In fact, he seemed much more docile.

The old man coughed and the sound of chainmail rustled.

“What was your class again?” the old man said.

“Pathogenik, your honor.”

“Yes, well you’re a free man,” the old man said.

“Arresting me wasn’t right. I’m entitled to some compensation.”

“Grab a lollipop on your way out,” the old man said.

After a lot of shuffling, the old man came out as a silhouette through a world of lamp light and nearly leapt at the sight of me.

“Son! What’re you doing scaring old men! What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I-I’m here for my friend.”

The old man spit at my feet. “Not another Vicen mercenary.”

“Mercenary?” I said.

“Enh,” the old man said and dismissed me with a slap at the air. He left the doorway, waddling down the hall and leaving room for the next two guards to leave the room.

A dozen oil lamps spilled their light across the hall. The last silhouette to leave the room was Jack. Boule showed no emotion. He simply leapt from my arms to Jack’s shoulder.

“Thanks for looking after him. I hate losing him like this,” Jack said.

“How many times has this happened to you?”

“I hate people.”

I followed Jack out of city hall. He grabbed two lollipops on his way out, and the woman scolded him and tried to wrestle one from him. Boule’s hiss and bared teeth negotiated for the second lollipop. Shocked and without a better offer, the woman sat back in the darkness, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Felke, it stinks in there,” Jack said. His deep wrinkled eyes took in the clear blue sky.

“Pig fat,” I said.

“I’ve dealt with worse judges. Anyways, I want to thank you Tosin,” Jack said. “We’re not friends and I know that. This is the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in a long time. A long time. What you did—looking after Boule—was one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me. I owe you a drink.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “You saved my life with the King Cyladon. Remember? You saved everyone’s life.”

“Looking after Boule was settling your debt to me?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, following Jack as he led the way through the village.

“Let’s go down to the docks,” Jack said. “There’s a water house there. I was told it houses the mean sort, but the liquor is meaner.”