CHAPTER 61 Are You Going to Tell Him?

CHAPTER 61

Are You Going to Tell Him?

Rufus

Every bone in my body was telling me to toss the earl down the slope behind us. His level looked to be midtwenties … He would survive.

And he might think twice about yelling at my bard … But that way lay violence and bad choices, and I wasn’t an impulsive youth. I’d never really been an impulsive youth. No, those emotions had only come about after I’d grown a love for music. And an unhealthy adoration of the beautiful Minstrel Bronwynn that I was now letting get out of hand.

“Alright,” I agreed, choosing to extend my claw to slice the last rope that held the elf captive.

Earl Oakley reached up with his newly freed hand and grabbed the gag, tossing it to the floor. He turned on me with his full height, which was to say as tall as my collarbone, and yelled, “NOW, SEE HERE—”

“Lord Oakley,” Bronwynn cut in. “Do you have any plans now that we’ve saved you from certain permadeath?”

The earl puffed up his chest and looked down at the half giantess. “You will all return me to my entourage this instant.”

Bronwynn, with a patience that left me impressed, asked, “And where is your entourage?”

The earl wasn’t paying attention to her.

“My gold-threaded trim! My buttons!” After his declaration that we would escort him, he’d begun fussing over the state of his dress; the fine leather boots were scuffed, his emerald-green hose torn, and his gold-embroidered black doublet was missing a few emerald buttons.

Earl Oakley was growing more and more pale from his personal inspection. I could tell he wasn’t having a good day, so I granted him leniency when the elf waved a hand at her and snapped, “What? Oh. We were attacked near the border of Peldeep by that disgusting hag—”

I flexed my claws right in front of his nose, startling the elf into silence. “I would speak more politely about such a lovely old woman.” She was also a member of the fan club, though she must have a disguise, since I’d never seen her at a show. I only knew that one Morga was on the list of crystal holders getting routine Minstrel Bronwynn updates.

“So you were in league with the ogre!” Earl Oakley spat, touting nonsense. “I’m not a fool! You won’t receive a copper from me. Now, return me to my carriage at once, cretins!”

I stared down at the delusional elf and then over at Bronwynn, who was focusing on her character sheet.

Slake spoke before I could. “[Silence].”

The elf tried to shout words at the grimalcat—not the best idea, since grimalcats enjoyed a great love for vengeance. No sound left Earl Oakley’s mouth, and the elf got red in the face with his growing anger. After shaking a fist at the grimalcat, he stormed up the path.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Bronwynn said.

I interjected on behalf of the grimalcat. “Actually, it was probably for the best.”

We resumed walking as I continued. “It’s not my job to rehabilitate him to become a functioning member of society, so instead, I’m going to see him out of our hair as fast as possible. Where’s Donna?”

We had reached the road. A road that was missing one wagon and horse.

“I’ve sent her back to follow behind us,” the minstrel explained.

I stared at her. “Why?”

“Because that ”—she waved at the still fuming elf. He looked like he wanted to have them all drawn and quartered—“wouldn’t last five minutes with my horse.”

“I see, yes.” She was absolutely correct. “So I guess we should start walking.”

The earl stamped his foot, but without words, we all ignored him. He was not happy, but after we left him raging on the road all alone, he ran to catch up.

We weren’t walking for longer than thirty minutes when we came upon an ornate carriage and five elves calling out for Earl Oakley on the road.

“I’m here, you fools!” the earl shouted, then seemed surprised that his voice had returned at all. “Now, come beg me for forgiveness so I don’t cast you out! Do you know that I was ogre-napped while you were dillydallying and twiddling your thumbs over a water break? Useless!”

“Should I [Silence] him again?” Slake stretched, his back arching while his claws dug into Bronwynn’s shoulders. The bard didn’t seem to mind.

I almost told him yes before I remembered that I was an official diplomat of Nilheim and the commander general of the Dark Horde, and maybe I shouldn’t be endorsing magic upon a fellow diplomat. At the same time, Madame Potts herself had warned the Sumbrian royals about their behavior while traveling internationally, and this one had let her words fall on deaf ears.

“Now, as thank you for rescuing me,” Earl Oakley was done being a menace to his servants and turned back to us. “I won’t summon the Dark Horde and have them take you away for disrespecting a royal. Now, begone.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Slake asked curiously.

I shook my head, smiling. “He’ll find out the hard way. I’m looking forward to bringing it up in Peldeep. In polite company.”

Slake smiled a vicious grin. “Excellent.”

Bronwynn was distracted again; I’d guess she was trying to relay messages to Donna. She got a specific look when she was trying to communicate with her horse, as dazed as when someone was reading over a character sheet but without the slight back and forth eye movement that came with reading.

Sure enough, shortly after Earl Oakley’s group set off, Donna came trotting up the Great Road.

We all climbed aboard the wagon but didn’t take off right away, letting the earl get a good head start. Donna took the time to eat the heads off a bunch of flowers on the roadside, and Bronwynn rummaged in the back of the wagon to refill her waterskin from a barrel. I sat there contemplating life while Slake curled up, closing his eyes for a nice nap.

Bronwynn eventually lifted the reins in a mock flick and declared, “Alright, everyone. Next stop, Peldeep!”