Chapter 13: To the Tower with Brutus

Soon, Alcar had pulled his belt from his breeches and used it to fashion a makeshift leash for the dog, and they began to make their way back through the city streets together.

Before returning to Malukh’s tower, Alcar made his way to the city wall. There, there were multiple barrels of water, and he ducked his head and torso inside, scrubbing at his hair and face with one hand while holding the leash with the other.

“There,” he said, as he emerged, dripping. “Not quite so stinky now, huh?”

The dog sniffed at him regardless, and then began to sniff around at the side of the barrel, which – Alcar now realized – had probably been use by many of its kind as a place to mark their territory.

“Well, you can’t tell me your name, so what shall we call you?” said Alcar as he now began to lead the way back directly towards Maluhk’s tower. How about ‘Good Boy’? Because I think you are a very good boy...” He rubbed at the dog’s head again as he walked. ”No – how about Brutus? That’s a good name for a kind, loyal dog. I’ll call you Brutus.”

Before long, they had reached the tower, and Alcar saw to his relief that Lox’aar was no longer sprawled on the stone pavement beneath the balcony, and neither was the warrior’s broken bow anywhere in sight.

“Hello?” he called out as he made his way up the exterior steps, still leading Brutus.

“Olynka? Warlik?” he called.

Moments later, Etienne had appeared at the main tower door, which – Alcar now saw – was propped open with a brick. “Oh – its you. I take it you didn’t catch the little bastard.”

“Little?” said Alcar, looking Etienne up and down. “Oh – never mind. No, I didn’t catch up with him. But I did get this dog.”

Etienne looked at Brutus. “Um... does it belong to the dwarves?”

“No – it belonged to some idiotic mountain men who blocked me when I was chasing after Trumore. And by the way, I’d advise steering clear of Royal Avenue. The soldiers there are total dickheads, and are arresting people all over the place.”

“Noted. Well, I suppose you’d better come in.”

Alcar followed the halfling through to the lounge, where he was pleased to find that someone had conjured up a large tureen of stew; this was now sitting in the middle of the cleared table. The unshelved books had been relocated to piles beside the door, and Alcar was pleased to see that his pile of vomit had also been cleared up at some point.

The other adventurers were gathered around, each with a bowl of stew in their hands. Lox’aar was sitting on the chair where Trumore had previously been tied; Alcar noticed that the archer’s leg was strapped up with a splint.

”Alcar didn’t catch the dwarf,” announced Etienne as they entered.

“Are you all right?” said Alcar to Lox’aar, moving closer to her. “After falling like that, I mean?”

She hissed, showing her teeth in what the young man hoped was a smile. “I am injured, human, but thank you for your concern. I see you have a new companion.”

“Yes. The Duke’s soldiers were going to kill this poor mutt. I decided to take care of him until I can find them again.”

Warlik stepped closer and put a powerful hand on Alcar’s shoulder. “So you chased the dwarf?” said the warrior. “Any idea which way he went?”

“Yes, actually. I got as far as Royal Avenue before I lost him. Some of the local kids told me that he’d gone towards the neighborhood where dwarves and half-orcs live. So I paid them a few coppers to ask around.”

“This lad needs to learn how to look after money,” muttered Etienne, picking up his bowl of stew, just as Brutus seemed to be about to start licking it.

“It’s not ideal, but better than nothing,” said Warlik. “Here – serve yourself some food. You must be in need of it.”

“Thank you.” Alcar ladled himself a bowl of the rich, meaty-smelling stew, and then looked around the room again, suddenly noticing that their demonic companion was absent. “Where’s Golgrasanna?”

“Upstairs in the study, clearing up,” said Olynka. “And you’ve her to thank for the meal. Turns out she can use that blade for more than just threatening people. She found plenty of dried meat, herbs and mushrooms up there, and got to work.”

Alcar nodded, prodding at the food. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful by saying how much he hated mushrooms.

“And there are loads of supplies in Maluhk’s basement,” continued Olynka with a broad smile. “It looks like he’s well stocked up for emergencies!”

“That makes sense,” said Lox’aar. “The Maluhk I remember never trusted the city regime at all. He hates Duke Frage.”

“Rightly so,” said Warlik, and Etienne spat towards the edge of the room.

“Is this something we missed out on in the poor quarter?” asked Alcar, remembering their recent conversation with Kora on the farm. “Among everyone I know, I mean... most people can’t stand the duke. He’s not liked or respected at all. But I’ve never heard anyone say it so openly. People are afraid to speak out.”

“Sure. Naturally,” said Olynka, her eyes wide and intent. “But in the countryside, believe me – almost everyone is in favor of overthrowing the man. It’s no secret.”

“Right.” Alcar nodded. “Well, having seen the way his men treat animals, I agree with them.” He knelt and put one arm around Brutus, and the dog licked his face and then lay down on his lap.

“Indeed – the soldiers of the city are brutal idiots,” said Warlik. “I’m sorry to say it about your fellow citizens, but it’s the truth. And the problem goes right to the top. Many people long for the von Dathmir family to return here, but they are in exile. Naturally, the Imperials hate them.”

“But one day...” said Lox’aar thoughtfully. “Now that Thacla von Dathmir is back from her time in hiding.” Trailing off without finishing this thought, the lizardwoman ran her long tongue across her mouth, leaned forward and put her empty bowl on the table, and then groaned in pain, rubbing at her strapped-up leg. “I’m afraid it’s fractured,” she added, noticing Alcar peering at her with concern. “But we have strapped it well.”

“Her bow is ruined, too,” said Olynka sadly. “But I’ve said she can borrow mine for now.”

Lox’aar gave a toothy grin. “I have arrows, you have a bow. Perhaps we can work together!”

Olynka beamed at this, and Alcar could see that his friend’s dream of gaining an archery mentor was looking more like a genuine possibility. And that was a good thing as far as his own hopes of adventure were concerned...

Just then, Alcar heard footsteps from behind him. ”I trust you enjoyed the stew,” said a gravelly voice. He turned to see that Golgrasanna had returned downstairs.

“Yes, thank you!” he said.

“Everyone thought it was excellent,” added Etienne.

Golgrasanna nodded, then walked into the room, eyeing the lizard folk cautiously. As she passed, Brutus growled at the demonic woman, and Alcar pulled him back towards the edge of the room, rubbing at the dog’s ears in an attempt to keep him calm. He had already decided to go upstairs and find more of the dried meat that Olynka had mentioned. Brutus would surely be ready for his own meal.

“By the way,” added Etienne, looking around at Olynka. “Didn’t you say something about a chest full of coins in the basement?”

She peered at him suspiciously. “Perhaps I did,“ she said. “But we wouldn’t want to take things that don’t belong to us, now would we? Because that would make us little better than common thieves.”

“Well,” hissed Warlik, “I am in no doubt that at least some of that coin came from the dwarves. However, I am sure that the old sorcerer has enough resources to pay you well for your assistance – and to repay his debt if necessary, too.”

Etienne nodded thoughtfully at this.

Alcar was secretly pleased. He had been wondering whether the halfling would be motivated to stick around. It appeared that he would – if only for monetary gain. Whether or not Etienne had any motivation to become a sorcerer, the little rogue could clearly make a useful member of an adventuring party. A recruit.

“Which brings us back to more immediate matters,” continued Warlik. “How are we going to get Maluhk back?”

Just then, there came a knock at the door. Olynka, who was closest to the door, moved into the hallway, only to see the door move open a fraction, and a small figure peer in.

“Is the horse-dung man in here?”