Glen

Arguen Garth

Hardir O’ Fardor

Monarch O’ Morn Taras

Barely illicit prizes & old debts

The grey granite tiled road led to the Avenue of Legends, now cleaned up. The broken, giant older statues removed, but for a few and the material repurposed to create an inner gated road running vertical to the Imperial Avenue, towards the Goddess Lake and near her pyramid temple.

There was a smaller island at the center of the clean water lake, lost in the morning mist, the foliage and canes usually there now cut down so visitors could see it sprouting out of its silvery waters right around noon. This part of the work hadn’t even started yet, but Glen could easily discern the new smaller statues standing silent left and right.

It’s a plaguing dream this, he thought.

Surprisingly peaceful.

These smaller but life-sized figures were made out of metal, expensive white gold coating poured over their forms, this new road cutting through the lake banks vegetation and ending at its shores, gleaming from end to end in the rising sun. He paused trying to make out the many figures depicted right and left of the just four meter wide tiled road. Tall and short, big boned and thin as rails. Zilan, Human and Folk. All the races were present in the garden.

Glen raised his head before the sturdy clad in armour statue, the sun rays making the metal shine so intensely he couldn’t make out its face, other than the helm covering it. Glen stepped back, squinted his eyes and just as the finely jackal-shaped helm came into focus, he heard its cackle.

And woke up.

“Hey you,” he told his daughter munching on his maimed ear. “Don’t do that.”

She cackled again, tiny hand finding his nose and pulling it, a finger slotted in his nostril.

“Silly girl,” Glen laughed and stood up, catching her small body when she rolled with a gasp down his rising torso. “There, yer safe now.”

“You’ve bewitched your daughter,” Sen murmured watching him, a hand under her chin, luscious hair half-covering her face. “I think I figured out your power Glen.”

“Tis all natural baby,” Glen boasted and stooped to give her a demonstration. “Ah, ye taste of berries straight out of bed again. How?” He probed exploring her mouth, the kiss deepening and derailing into something more adventurous.

“I’m always up earlier than you,” Sen replied and put a hand on his broad chest to stop him. “She’s too young to see this,” his wife explained and their daughter cooed and found her mother’s heavy breast as if to prove a point.

“You brought her here,” Glen murmured. “What’s this a conspiracy? Because I ain’t accepting it!”

“I had to. She always slept with me in Eikenport and she wants to go back to my milk,” Sen explained and made to lift her up. “But I want her to start tasting other food slowly, so we’ll need a proper nursery build in here.”

“What’s that got to do with us fucking?” Glen asked perturbed.

“Glen!” Sen admonished him. “Not in front of her!”

Glen frowned and removed the baby from her nipple, his daughter started crying but Glen eyed her solemnly and she stopped with a hiccup and put her small fist in her mouth.

“Haha,” Glen guffawed and got up from their bed. Stepped on his new pants, stooped to grab them and then he put them on, the soft leather fitting him nicely.

“Glen, she needs to feed now,” Sen explained standing on her bottom to glare at him, when he picked her in his arms again. Yer getting fatter girl, he thought. Hmm. “We can continue later,” his wife haggled.

Yer wide off the mark woman!

“Ahm, no I don’t accept that,” Glen decided stubbornly. “If I’m not getting any, then no one eats stuff.”

“You don’t mean that!” Sen said warningly. Glen enjoyed seeing her getting defensive or mad. The problem was Sen could read through him most of the times. He repositioned the baby in his arms, feeling drool mixed with milk dripping down his own chest.

“I don’t,” he admitted and heard noise from downstairs. “But what else can she eat?”

“Where is he?” Jinx asked.

“Upstairs Captain,” Kirk replied with a yawn.

“Fruit jam, oat cream, cheese and yogurt with juices after six months,” Sen said replying to his query. Glen had missed part of it listening to Jinx trying to force her way to their floor.

“How old is she now?”

“Almost six months,” Sen replied with a soft smile seeing him distracted. “I had to wait for her to grow a bit more, but was forced to leave in the end for a couple of reasons.”

“Coming through!” Jinx yelled and people cursed, someone moaned in pain and feet were heard thudding the tiled floor of his villa’s hall.

“Mmm, what reasons?” Glen asked absentmindedly, an eye to their bedroom’s door, the other on his naked wife, whilst his daughter was poking at the abs on his stomach.

“WHAT’S THIS?” Fikumin snapped irate.

“I missed you terribly is the biggest reason,” Sen admitted huskily and all his drive returned tenfold. “Also feared the city might be in trouble,” she added, but this part Glen didn’t hear busy as he was and lightheaded.

Damn.

“STOP!” Kirk yelled.

“I didn’t hear ye!” Jinx replied breathing heavy, as if she was running fast.

“Ahm,” Glen started and glanced at a misty eyed Sen, the woman slowly frowning hearing the commotion out of the bedroom.

“Is that?” Sen asked, the bed much further inside the large room and Jinx burst inside the next moment. The Gish paused, glanced at the trio staring at her open-mouthed and then executed a cartwheel, turned into a roll ending up before Glen. Jinx rose up and made to take the baby from him, but Glen held her with one arm and slapped the sneaky Gish’s mitten away with the other.

“Hey!” Jinx protested. “I do that!”

“Keep yer dirty fingers away,” Glen warned her.

“What? I have ‘em licked clean!” Jinx replied. “Gimme this cutie ye fool! I want to look at her!”

“Look, but no touching—”

Jinx interrupted him with a kick at his shin, but Glen found his footing with a groan and shoved her away with one arm, whilst the Gish tried desperately to snatch the baby from him.

“Nooo, I love babies,” Jinx hissed, as they wrestled about.

“That’s enough,” Sen warned both of them getting slowly up. Glen puffed out in frustration, his elbow slotted on Jinx’s neck blocking the smaller Gish from reaching his daughter. He held her over them with one hand, but he had to clench his teeth as he was getting repeatedly punched in the stomach from a desperately ogling Jinx.

“Gods darnit!” He bellowed and the baby gasped. “Whisper cut this nonsense!”

“What? Alright I give up,” Jinx replied and pretended to stop, only to lunge at him again. Glen sidestepped and she failed with a curse. “How do ye keep in form without leavin’ yer darn room?” She complained and then paused to eye the approaching Sen-Iv. “Ah,” the Gish said. “It all makes sense now.”

“Jinx,” Sen greeted her. “This lovely girl is our daughter.”

“I’m havin’ trouble hearing,” Jinx admitted her gaze farway.

“I’m trying to lose weight,” Sen explained blushing just enough to make it worse Glen thought, equally distracted.

A naked Sen could stop all conversations.

“Don’t stop yer efforts on my account,” Jinx urged her with a lewd wink.

“I’ll throw something on,” his wife said calmly and turned around to look for her robes. Jinx swung her pink head to glance at Glen grinning.

“What?” Glen queried, very annoyed at her for interrupting his gawking.

“Can I hold her? Me touch is very soft,” She asked pleadingly.

Glen scrunched his nose. “I’ll have to think about it,” he finally replied.

“I meant the baby Glen,” Jinx hissed and Sen giggled from the bed.

Glen cleared his throat, his face hardening.

“No.”

“Why?” Jinx protested.

“She’s mine,” Glen replied matter-of-factly. “Plus she’s heavy and yer hands are small.”

“Glen, let her hold her,” Sen told him returning clad in her white silk robes. “Jinx is my friend, you know that.”

“I just want to keep the circle small,” Glen defended himself. “We can’t have everyone waltzing in here and manhandling her for crying out loud!”

“Glen you trust Jinx more than anyone else,” Sen reminded him.

“Aww,” Jinx murmured afore frowning. “Then why lie about it, hmm?”

“I didn’t,” Glen said feeling cornered. “Stop twisting things and hummin’!”

“I didn’t,” Jinx retorted, then gave him a toothy cat’s grin. “Can I hold her pleeeasse?” The last word dragging for extra effect. Glen rolled his eyes and allowed her to take the baby into her arms. With a squeal Jinx brought her close to her face, turning into a silly person.

Not that much effort was needed for the female Gish.

“Oii, look at ye!” Jinx cooed and touched her forehead on the baby’s head. “What’s this big nose girl? Wh’re did ye get it hmm? Hey, I can drool too!”

“This is a stupid idea,” Glen murmured and Sen slapped his arm teasingly.

“You can’t keep her all for yourself husband.”

Of course I can.

“What’s her name?” Jinx asked rocking the baby in her arms, his daughter chewing on a pink lock.

“Eh, I haven’t… just call her you for now,” Glen grunted.

“Glen! Ye can’t do that,” Jinx said.

“Says who?”

“We’ll think of a name soon,” Sen answered. “I need your help to learn what’s available here Jinx,” she added. “So I can dictate a new diet to the kitchen.”

“Sure,” Jinx replied, placing the baby on her shoulder, so it could reach her hair easier. “Maeriel can help with that.”

“What’s wrong wit the food?” Glen protested, not likening the sound of that.

“Meat, potatoes, wine and variations of cheese,” Sen replied.

“The good stuff,” Glen agreed, his stomach growling.

“I meant baby food,” Sen repeated her earlier argument. “You want to stay whilst we talk about it?”

Glen stared at the door. “I’m gonna grab something to eat wit meat in it, but I expect to find my daughter just the way I left her upon my return!” he declared, the last part a warning and waltzed out of his bedroom for the first time in four days leaving the chuckling girls behind.

“There’s a rumor circulating,” Fikumin told him, when Glen strolled into the big hall, raising his head from his reports. “Hardir has left the city, or is still partying. It’s not easy to contain.”

“Who’s spreading it?” Glen queried reaching for a piece of black bread, the dwarf snatching the cheese keeping it company and swallowing it whole. The mouth on that huge head of his cavernous.

“So, did I miss anything?” He asked after they both stopped chewing, deciding to move on to the next topic.

“Where do I start?” Fikumin grunted.

“Well, start at the beginning,” Glen helped him. “Metu!”

“He’s at a council meeting,” Fikumin explained. “Ask for Seeyu.”

“Seeyu!” Glen bellowed twice as loud. “What meeting?”

“Each morning the Council meets,” Fikumin explained. “Your orders state it.”

“Damn,” Glen said nodding. “Ah, there you are,” Seeyu had appeared carrying a disk with foodstuff on. “Leave it on the table my good man,” Glen told him and moved Fikumin’s papers out of the way. The dwarf growled always in a bad mood for some reason and tried to gather his scrolls, whilst Glen kept shoving them away.

“So, ye were saying?” Glen asked him enjoying a lamb chop. He paused to swallow and then washed everything down drinking from his goblet.

The Zilan make fantastic wine, ye got to give them that.

“I was saying,” Fikumin grunted. “There are matters in need of your attention.”

“Why? Anything I can do, you can do as well friend,” Glen propped him up. “Don’t sell yerself short sort of speak.”

Haha.

“Nobody laughs at your jokes Garth,” Fikumin hissed. “They are pedantic.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” Glen replied chuckling. “Using strange words won’t change the facts friend.”

“Right,” Fikumin said with a deep sigh. “Some citizens and visitors went missing during the festival.”

“Wandered away drunk?” Glen chanced still smiling.

“People are looking for them still.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be found? Just throwing it out there,” Glen replied with a shrug.

“I understand the locals, but three of them were merchants and their caravans are set to return to port, or leave. They wouldn’t miss that.”

Glen snorted and reached for his goblet turning serious. He eyed Seeyu standing a foot from their table. “Have a cup of wine lad,” he told him. “Use the smaller cup.”

“Gratitude master Garth,” Seeyu replied with a deep bow.

“Good-good, I like this one too,” Glen decided. “He’s very friendly right?”

Fikumin stared at him blankly. “Anfalon is looking for them and so are Maeriel’s Rangers. People don’t up and disappear Garth,” he finally spat, his mood taking a turn for the worse.

“You don’t have to be jealous if I’m making new friends. You know I value yer contributions,” Glen said to calm him down, much as he understood it. “Now, have they looked at the Springs Lake?”

“Yes. Why there specifically?” Fikumin asked.

“Saw some of them swimming in ‘em waters during the festivities.”

“I don’t recall that.”

“You were drunk pal,” Glen reminded him. “What happened to the girl holding you in her arms?”

“There was no girl,” Fikumin spat affronted. “You can’t carry a Folk like a kid Garth.”

“Let’s agree to disagree on that,” Glen replied. “There were people in the lake though, pretty far off shore as well.”

“How deep?”

“Fifty meters in at least, maybe more. It was misty,” Glen said.

“No it wasn’t,” Fikumin argued and then shook his big head seeing Glen’s expression. “I’ll look into it.”

“Ye do that,” Glen said with a sigh and pushed himself up, after draining his goblet. “Now I have to return to my girls.”

“Garth at least make an appearance!” Fikumin grunted. “You can’t spend all your time like this. It’s callous. People will start asking questions.”

Glen smacked his lips thoughtfully. “You are right. We are too visible living in the city. I need to have Voron finish the castle grounds faster. Worry not friend I shall make my rounds to keep up appearances.”

“You’ll visit the port? Or the castle?”

“Good grief, have ye listened to the clamor up there? I was thinking of walking to the market on Outlaw, see that tavern the Zilan opened.”

“That sounds tiring,” Fikumin grunted irate.

“Right?” Glen agreed with a chuckle. “Well, I have to help anyway I can. Teamwork is key my friend. Everyone here helps and everyone profits! Make it our motto, or something.”

“How Gish of you,” Fikumin mocked him.

“Ye know what?” Glen said eyeing him sternly. “Don’t. Leave the last part out. Right Seeyu?”

The slave stopped gulping down his wine and nodded eagerly. “Right Master Garth!”

“See? He gets it,” Glen told the scowling dwarf, before assuming a serious expression and walking towards the exit.

There was a shade cover made out of yellow rattan hanging from the two huge tan-bark trees left uncut and it protected the outside bar area created with the same material from the counter to its tall stalls and chairs. The rest of the trees had been cleared out, leaving the view of the quiet lake unobstructed and one could even have a glimpse of the plateau beyond its surface where Voron’s crews worked. Glen noticed that part of the nearby pavilion built for the Valimae Lilt had been incorporated to this permanent resort-like area by the lake.

The Zilan behind the counter, a sharp-looking handsome male smiled a predator’s smile seeing him strolling inside with Kirk in tow.

“He lives,” the waterfront bar owner said and his many patrons enjoying the spot and the weather turned to stare at Glen. “The rumors squashed.”

“Thought the rumor was that I left,” or fucking, Glen replied returning his nod.

“All the rumors,” the Zilan retorted readily as if reading his mind. “Suffered the same fate.”

“Yer a barrel of laughs,” Glen said and glanced right and left on the counter immediately spotting the pirate Captain Leona Vale, looking drunk as a skunk per usual.

“Folen, of Luthoris,” the Zilan introduced himself. “Serving at festivals for two millennia. Dabbling as a bard on occasion.”

“I remember ye murdering that lute, but the rest sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Glen countered looking at the expensive silver and finely engraved goblet the male put in front of him.

“I’ve taken up the family mandate,” Folen replied readily pouring him his second drink of the morning.

“Fallen ye say.”

“Folen, I speak it with the word in at the end to avoid confusion given my trade,” the Zilan corrected him. “Although there is some of that still.”

Right, Glen thought not believing him.

“Tis a strong wine dis,” Leona blurted after a burp.

“The quantity inhibited is the root of the problem. Some would call it sickness drunken, but disturbingly alluring female,” Folen elucidated defending his stock and flirting sneakily.

There’s a bit of skill there, Glen thought.

“I asked for rum,” Leona argued glaring at him. “A pint o’ grog. Dis stuff messes me up.”

Folen snorted and went to collect the bill from a merchant and his wife.

“I thought you’d be at the port district,” Glen said glancing at a long-legged Zilan waitress of sorts making the rounds and talking to the customers. Mostly locals from the Favored District, but for some exceptions like the couple. “Loading my timber.”

“It’s timber Garth,” Leona snorted. “Imagine a scoundrel be grabbin’ a four meter lumber and makin’ a run for it haha,” she shook her scarfed head and refilled her goblet from the bottle.

“So… yer here why?” Glen probed.

“Wanted to see Jinx,” Leona replied.

“Whisper has a girlfriend,” Glen cut her off. “I suggest leaving them alone.”

Leona stared at him silently. “What if I don’t heed to yer suggestion mate?”

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Glen explained returning the stare. “I used the word for civility’s sake,” he lowered his head near her comely face and whispered. “It was a threat lass. Get yer arse back to my ship.”

“I find ye arousing and an asshole. It’s rather confusing,” Leona blurted. “Additionally I was tricked into agreeing.”

“I don’t care,” Glen deadpanned.

“Might I suggest—?”

Glen puffed his cheeks out.

“No,” he replied sternly letting all the air out.

“Still,” Leona insisted popping a button of her shirt out. “It’ll be worthy to revisit the matter,” Glen reached and grabbed her hand before more buttons were loosened.

“That’s a good pair,” he told her truthfully. “But my hands are full wit better.”

Leona smacked her lips and glanced at the shamelessly watching Folen.

“My hands are not full,” the Zilan elucidated his thoughts, showing her his long-fingered hands to further strengthen his words.

“Well,” Leona said with a grimace. “I’ve sampled a Folk recently so yer offer is intriguing sir.”

“What Folk?” Glen asked.

“A dwarf?” Leona replied, afore looking about her. “Them shorter people?”

“Brave,” Folen commented. “A well-traveled lass.”

“Eh, I’ll leave ye to yer journeys,” Glen decided and finished his wine. “Remember to get back to the Marquette Captain. That’s a lot of coin being loaded.”

“What if there’s a more profitable job? Barely illicit,” Leona asked before he could make three strides. Glen paused and turned towards the bar again. He glanced left and right, spotted the customers listening in, but pretending they didn’t much as scoundrels do, no matter their race and sighed deeply.

“I’ll be getting over three hundred gold coins per load Captain. Expenses paid,” he added and while the Zilan were uninterested or better actors the half a dozen merchants present perked up. “If I cut it, which I haven’t, it’ll be double that.”

“A ship could carry all manners of treasure,” Leona said mysteriously.

Hmm.

“Would that ship be easy to find?”

“The bigger the difficulty, means the more valuables,” Leona countered.

“How big are we hypothesizing about here?” Glen asked smiling at the onlookers. “You don’t have to be specific.”

“Gallant Dogs sized, twice that?” Leona said and made to button her half open shirt, but she glanced at Folen who grinned freakishly, the exchange not lasting more than a second. “Expensive troops,” she added leaving her fleshy mounts half-exposed.

What?

“Nah,” Glen decided. “I’ll take the easy way. That sounds risky.”

“What if the cargo was worth it?” The pirate captain was just not willing to let it go.

“How much?” Glen snapped and she shrugged her shoulders, showing a lot of cleavage to her captivated audience.

“It’s weight are the rumors,” a smirking Leona replied with a wink and for a moment Glen couldn’t figure out her coded talk, mostly because it sounded absurd.

Unless it wasn’t.

Ah.

Whoa.

“Milord, what was that talk?” Kirk asked him on their way back to their horses.

“You know her,” Glen replied leaving it vague on purpose. The man sighed sadly.

“I just wish I knew her better you know?”

Glen stopped to stare at him sternly.

“Don’t be a fool,” he cautioned his guard. “She’ll eat you alive, bones ‘n all.”

Kirk frowned afore nodding and Glen sighed having solved this problem as well, but cut it short seeing Qanuq walking past them. The priest he’d left with Phon-Iv in Queen’s Oasis years ago.

“You,” Glen rustled and run after him. The priest stopped and turned around to look at him coolly.

“Yes?” He asked impersonally.

Huh? Why you…

“What the fuck are you doing here? I saw ye arrive wit the caravan the other day,” Glen grunted.

“I was with the caravan,” Qanuq agreed keeping his calm. “How else could I travel?”

“The fuck I care? What are you doing here?” Glen snapped. “I see Phon has taken good care of you. Well don’t expect further compensation,” he added glaring at him. “I see yer pretending you don’t remember it, but it was your plaguin’ fault!”

Qanuq took a big breath and stood back.

“The truth is I put the past behind me,” he said finally sounding reasonable, which made Glen even more suspicious. “I moved on friend.”

Suck a bag of dicks friend!

“Well, I don’t want you stopping here,” Glen retorted, trying to keep it civil as citizens had started gathering to watch what all the trouble was. “But I will pay ye for the maimed leg, since I want to be fair wit you as always. We are not villains to mistreat people!”

“The leg is much better,” Qanuq reassured him with the pretense of a smile. Well that’s a god darn lie unless ye grew a couple of toes back ye cunt. At least he lost all that white paint, Glen thought. That was spooky. “But I will accept the coin to settle the old debt.”

Aha, there it is then, yer full of shite mate.

“You turn around now and go to the port district,” Glen cautioned him. “Plenty of room to stay there and by the sea, it’s a day away if you have a mount, more if you don’t, but walking will strengthen yer leg. I’ll have a man pay you there and put you on a ship out of Sinya Goras.”

“What if I want to stay?” Qanuq asked.

“Trust me, the next time I see you walking about lookin’ all fake cool and shit, I’ll have ye kicked out and break yer other leg,” Glen warned him. “It will hurt, it’ll be rude as fuck and I’ll get to keep the coin.”

“Who was he milord?” Kirk asked him moments later.

“Just a crazy guy I’d met years back,” Glen murmured. Things went kinda bad, we might have tortured him a bit resulting in minor mutilation, then sort of gave him to Sen’s brother to use as he sees fit.

Some annoying problems I wish they faded away, but they don't.

And here he is.

“Remind me to ask Fikumin about him,” he added with a grimace.

“I shall milord,” Kirk replied a little troubled. “Why, if I may ask? He appeared friendly.”

Maybe that’s part of the plaguin’ problem?

“I don’t know,” Glen said after a contemplating moment. “Either it’s been a long time, or there was something off about him.”

“Like what?”

Glen puffed his cheeks out and stared at Outlaw’s long snout. The horse snorted, a long drawn out affair, large teeth clattering like broken bones inside a massive grave.

“Just a gut feeling, or Folen’s darn wine,” he grunted shivering and grabbing the reins, he climbed on the saddle.

“Where to milord?” Kirk asked.

Glen licked his lips tasting sweet wine and stared towards the plateau. “Let’s go lit a fire under Voron’s arse,” he finally decided. “Have that Zilan finish that god darn castle, so we can have a wall and a real door between us and the crazies.”

read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms

& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms

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