Bishop Bonner
"This isn't going as expected, but I'm starting to think that old bastard is playing us for fools!" Q snapped as we awaited Horace's return from another meeting.
It has been a few hours since we separated from Mark and Claire, and we've reached nothing but dead ends. We found ourselves standing outside a shop called "Milward's Armaments." Appraanely, their weapon supplier, worked here, and Horace made it clear he wanted to take the meeting alone. Q was against it, and so was I, but we agreed to stand outside. We secretly loitered around an alleyway, waiting for the man to return.
During our encounter with Horace last night, Mark showcased his suspicions about the allegiances of many of Claire's allies. He believes that someone working within their organization has the ultimate goal of betraying them. He has no idea about their identity, but he suspects Horace has some understanding. Horace has been with Claire from the beginning, so we have determined that Horace must have some idea of who could potentially be working against their interests. I agree with Mark's assessment.
It is foolish to barely alter your name and continue working under your family name if you intend to flee from people who wish to eradicate your entire family. Even if you benefit from the wealth of the clan, you'll still place a target on your back. From my understanding, those who want Claire's head come from high society, so it was also foolish that we attended that banquet. It only served to announce our presence to the enemies.
"Horace is a suspicious man. He was willing to put us down without a second thought. Had he succeeded, he would likely have ambushed and killed you when you returned with Claire," I said bitterly.
"I can't wrap my head around Mark's motives sometimes. He is more than aware that such blatant treachery would only occur repeatedly if we don't check it now," Q said with a frown.
"Mark beat the hell out of Horace, bud. Even weakened with a wound on his back and one eye, Mark dominated that old bastard. He would not be so foolish to attempt that bullshit again. We made it clear that we would defend ourselves and break off our partnership. That is a check that he definitely understood."
Q looked to the side, his hand catching the occasional water droplet. The rain had finally begun to greet us, but it wasn't much to concern us.
"I still don't trust him," Q declared, crossing his arms.
"Good. I'd call you insane if you did. Mark doesn't either, and that's why we are here. We'll have to inform him about his meeting in this building. I believe there might be a connection between this armament store and the ring Mark found from his assassin."
Q perked up, his sour mood alleviating slightly.
"If that's the case, then we shouldn't have allowed Horace to meet with him alone. He could tip him," he said.
"That is what we want. If I were to place myself in Mark's mind, I'd assume he trusts Claire. There seems to be a sort of connection between them. They get along well, and that is why I think he's promoting support for our alliance."
Q chuckled at my words. His sour expression quickly changed to one of mischief as he pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning from.
"A connection, huh? I think you are right. I didn't take Mark as the type to fall for the first woman he laid eyes on in a fantasy word."
"The Arch Captain was the first woman he laid eyes on, though." I pointed out.
"She doesn't count. Mark's clearly scared of her, but Claire, on the other hand..." the man grinned as he shook his head. A snicker escaped him as he thought about something, no doubt mischievous, "She isn't bad-looking. I think Mark appreciates their banter and the sophistication she radiates. Let me find out: Mark wants this alliance just because he wants to elope with a damsel in distress."
"Mark is a man of vision, bud. He thinks with his brain rather than what's between his legs."
"You say that, but even a dense rock such as yourself would notice the sway of his tail around her. That damned fox tail is the worse thing that could have happened to him. It showcases his emotions so that all can see if they are looking," Q said as he chuckled to himself.
"A man of vision," I repeated, but Q shrugged his shoulders.
"Maybe he visualizes himself in bed with the pretty noblewoman. That is why he could stand being called "Sir Shakey Tail." It couldn't be me, personally."
"Only your mind would arrive at such a lustful conclusion. That's your problem right there, bud. All of that sin in your brain will cost you if you don't repent. Mark respects Claire for her intelligence and drive. I doubt he has lustful intentions or motivations," I said dismissively. "You, on the other hand, need to find Jesus. I'll help you once we resolve this conflict with Claire's enemies."
"Shut the fuck up! Even you know that's bullshit," Q scoffed. "You know God hates liars, bud. Keep that shit up, and you'll find yourself burnin'!"
"I doubt it," I responded with a roll of my eyes. "What's important is that we find out who the leak is and deal with them."
"That we could agree on," Q said with a nod.
Before either of us could speak, I could detect the arrival of Horace by his footsteps. Moving away from the wall, Q and I exited the alley to catch Horace walking our way. The older man was dignified in his stance and wore an unreadable expression. Q's animosity toward the man returned as soon as he laid eyes on the man. He place would place his hands into his pocket as he addressed him,
"So, what did you find out?"
Horace watched us with brief interest before walking past us with disregard. His posture was slightly slumped, but he quickly recuperated. On the other hand, Q was not pleased to be blown off in such a disrespectful manner. He clenched his fist before pointing accusatorily at the old butler.
"You learned something, didn't you?! Open your mouth and let us in on the details!" Q demanded.
Despite not responding, we still followed Horace down the road. The old man remained silent despite the aggressive words Q hurled his way. I remained indifferent to the silence, but I knew Q had a right to be confrontational. He felt it would be necessary, so I decided to leave that to him.
"Aight. I see how this is going to go. Keep that same energy, but I'll say this: silence indicates complicity. We will find out the content of whatever secret conversation you are trying to withhold from us, and if we find out you are involved, we will not hesitate to take you down," Q declared. He stopped in his tracks, and I mirrored his actions.
Horace halted in his tracks. The old man didn't flinch at Q's remark, but instead, a fierce glare radiated from the veteran. The sound of falling raindrops splattered across the cobblestone road as Horace held his tongue. He was fierce with his gaze, but Q was unrelenting. I could sense that another physical altercation could erupt at any moment underneath the cloud's tears.
"There is no need for you two to fight each other," I said, standing in between the two men. "I can understand the reservation when it comes to trusting one another. Claire did leave you behind, bud, but you gotta leave that in the past. In return, Horace has the be more forthcoming with us if we are going to assist your mistress's goal. We were under the impression she was serious about saving Astana and its people. Is that right, bud?"
Q nodded in confirmation.
"I assumed as much. That was why Mark and I have laid our lives on the line. A task that he is even having difficulty defending," Q remarked, resting his hands on his waist.
"Yet, he still defends it. Despite Claire's actions and your attempt on his life, Horace and Mark have double-downed on this alliance. He has also stuck his neck out for you. He came to us and convinced us that he has the utmost confidence in aligning ourselves with the two of you despite the obvious danger. While reckless, Mark is beyond competent when it comes to this matter, so when he returns, and we tell him that you were not forthcoming with us, you will be slapped with heavy scrutiny."
"With all due respect, the scrutiny of you three is the last of my concern," Horace declared with a low growl.
The older man radiated an intense aura around his body. Malice once again took form in his gaze. Q matched that intensity with one of his own. He stepped toward Horace, but he managed to hold him back.
"I value one individual above all, and I will do what is necessary to protect her from any threat. No matter how I look at it, your friend, the foxkin, is a threat to her safety. I am against this union as it is an unholy abomination."
My eyes widened when he finished.
"Unholy abomination? What are you referring to?" I asked before Q could retort. "Surely, you aren't referring to our friend in that manner?"
"I am."
"We should kick this motherfucker's ass," Q spat, but I shook my head in disagreement.
"We shouldn't. This man is tainted by ignorance, and I could see why they have failed to make any headway. With a fool like this as her closest confidant, I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up dead in the near future," I said, matching Q's gaze.
He nodded in agreement. Q's stance relaxed as he placed his hands into his pockets.
"An unholy abomination, he says. What a fuckin' asshole."
"God doesn't like ugly, and Horace is looking mighty horrendous. However, Claire doesn't seem to share his thoughts despite her faults," I pointed out.
Q would only hum in response before looking back at Horace. The older man didn't bother replying and instead began walking toward our next destination. We hesitated to follow him, but the plan we made with Mark urged us to do so. If we are going to achieve the outcome that we seek, we will have to tolerate Horace's unpleasantness for a while now.
We traveled in silence for a while. The only sounds were the light drizzle on the cobblestone road and the squeaking of passing wagons and carriages. The Silver District, or so it was called, was relevantly well off, from what I could tell. I never cared about the economics of towns, but when Mark recruited me to accompany him on his kingdom-building aspirations in Infinity Unleashed, he made sure to point out certain things.
Sensing that we approached another stop on Horace's trip, I began to lag behind and observe the surroundings. There were plenty of elves, humans, and, specifically, wolf beastman. The wolf beastmen were usually accompanied by numerous wolf beastkin. I found that odd for some reason, but I couldn't place my finger on it. Wolf beastmen were large werewolf-adjacent creatures who were bipedal like any other race. Wolf beastkin, conversely, were humanoid with furry wolf ears similar to Mark's.
"There really are a lot of wolf beastkin around here," I said to Q when I caught up with him.
"You're telling me this why?" He asked.
"After what Horace said about Mark, I imagined he would not be so courteous toward other beastkin," I said.
"I don't think it's the fox ears he despises about Mark,"
I raised my eyebrow at the man, and he elaborated, "For the past few weeks, Horace was the one advising Claire, and I believe he fell complacent. Just as he said, he cares only about her protection. That means to me he would be against our partnership from the get-go since he would have no control over us. That's doubly so for Mark. He is an usurper, after all."
I pondered his words for a moment. There was validity in his assessment. Horace would feel threatened by his job as her confidant, especially by the budding closeness between his mistress and my friend. With how their banter, one could assume that Claire and Mark had known each other for a while despite the reality being anything but that. Horace clearly picked up on that, and I feel his emotions got the better of him last night when he attacked us.
It was odd to see Horace take care of Mark's injuries and then enact a justification to attempt to kill us. Even now, he's withholding information to keep us in the dark.
"Milward's Armaments. Commit it to memory, bud," I told Q, and he nodded in agreement.
A few minutes later, we arrived in front of a rowdy tavern. The sounds of jovial laughter and the heavy scent of vomit and alcohol mingled with the humidity. Despite the drizzle, this area of the city was still flooded with foot traffic. Adventurers of all shapes and races populated the block in small groups of three and four. Many of them carried away intoxicated friends despite being heavily intoxicated themselves.
I wouldn't have imagined a man like Horace to be at a place like this one, but he led us inside nonetheless. He pushed open the door, and the loud chattering of other patrons filled our ears. They were cheering and arguing, creating a cluster of yelling that was nearly deafening. I had to cover my ears for a moment to prevent my sensitive ears from being overwhelmed by the sounds.
Q recognized my distress, and I could see the man snickering at my dispense. He may laugh now, but having enhanced hearing like mine would prove more useful than not. Meanwhile, Horace was unphased by the volume of the room. The old man continued through the crowded room with experienced steps. He moved quickly to the point we struggled to keep up with him.
'He's trying to lose us?'
Horace's figure disappeared into the crowd, and soon, we were forced to stop in our tracks. A vein could be seen on Q's forehead as he grimaced in anger. It would be interesting if we weren't in this situation.
"Damn him!" Q snapped as he turned around frantically to locate the older man.
It was no good as Horace was completely gone now. Just like before, Horace had chosen to exclude us from the meeting with one of his allies. After glancing around, I spotted an opening for us to stand in the room. There were three tables with no occupants; I took that as a sign of terrific luck. I placed my hands on his shoulder and gestured for Q to follow me. He did so, and a moment later, we found ourselves sitting across from each other at the right-most round table.
Q remained agitated, but that didn't prevent me from speaking my piece, "We are getting nowhere with this."
"You're right, but there isn't much we can do about it right now," he declared with a defeated sigh. "We can't trust this son of bitch, and he keeps going at it alone. If this keeps up, then we'll fail on our end. We should've had Claire take us instead and left Horace in Mark's care. Let him deal with that bastard's BS!"
"I get what you are saying, but we can salvage what we can from what we know," I said.
"That's the problem. We don't know anything. He won't tell us the content of those meetings," Q declared while leaning back in his chair.
"We do know something," I replied. I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table.
Q seemed to be contemplating my statement before his eyes lit up with recognition. He sat us, placing his elbow on the table, too. He looked into my eyes, and I realized we were on the same page.
"You're right. We know Horace didn't want us to meet with his associate inside that armament shop," Q said.
"And he didn't want us to follow him to his meeting here either. This means we'd need to investigate this later. Once Mark returns, the three of us will go. Fuck Horace; we'll get to the bottom of this together and resolve this whole nonsense."
"How do you propose we do that? We don't know any of their contacts, so we wouldn't have much to go on."
"Enough crumbs could make a cookie," I responded, which caused Q to do a doubletake. I laughed at his reaction.
"What the hell does that mean?" he asked with a wry smirk.
"The fuck, I know," I responded before we both erupted in laughter.
After a moment of laughter, we fought to reel in our seriousness. It was just in time as a loud slam could be heard in front of us. The table rattled in impact, causing both of us to sputter in confusion and disbelief. A large furry hand latched its claws into our table and flipped it over. A thunderous crash could be heard as the table fractured from the impact of the wall.
I had no idea what was going on. My head snapped to the right, and there, I gained some understanding.
"Oi! Oi! Oi! What are you bastards doing in our seats?!"
The voice was rough as nails against wood, and the figure it originated from matched the tone. Standing in front of us was a large wolf beastmen with black fur. One golden eye glared down at us as he bared his fangs. His other eye was covered in an eyepatch, and scars decorated his body. You could tell due to the difference in hair length in those areas. This man was large, easily six-four or five, with thick muscles bulging from the thin metal strips covering his forearms.
His large, bushy tail stood on end, and his breath reeked of death. Next to him were three smaller wolf beastkin, whose ear and tail color matched the wolf beastman's fur color. They wore more armor on their bodies than their leader, but their gaze was almost as fierce as his. One human stood with the group, and he was almost as large as the wolf beastman.
He had a large beard with tufts of gray hair. His faze was wrinkled, and his armor was more refined than that of the beastman and beastkin. Unlike them, the human had a small hammer and a wide rectangular head resting in his hands.
When neither of us responded, the human man raised his hammer into the air and slammed it onto the knocked-over table in front of us. The hammer appeared to be ignited by fire because when it landed, the wood blazed before burning into ashes. I was completely stunned into silence.
Overcoming his shock, Q did something that surprised all of us. Without a word, he clenched his fist and blasted the human with a powerful punch. Despite being surprised, the human man was able to block the strike with his hammer's head. I hope he didn't like that hammer because when Q's fist hit it, the hammer's head exploded into shards. It did little to hamper his momentum, which led his fist to crash into the human's face.
The human was sent flying and slammed into a nearby table. He fell like a sack of potatoes with a sickly thud, drawing everyone's attention. The once rowdy tavern patrons had now ceased their chattering and looked our way. Many gasps could be heard as they regarded the large beastman and his entourage with shades of fear and distrust. I could sense the animosity returned to the shocked beastman before his attention snapped back to us.
I had not taken the opening for granted. As everyone scrambled to assess the situation, I quickly composed myself and stood from my chair to join Q's side. I don't know what prompted these men to attack us, but they would not find us so easy to intimidate.
"You got a problem with us sitting at a fuckin' table, Motherfucker? Use your mouth and not your hands. Cause, as you can tell, I ain't the one to be fucked with!" Q declared with venom.
"You- You shouldn't have done that!" The beastman growled as he stepped closer to us.
He had a feral snarl on his face as he and his group surrounded us to the best of their ability. The fact we had the wall to our back meant they couldn't get a good enough angle to surround us completely.
"Come now, Gentlemen. There is no need for us to ruin everyone else's night," I said, holding Q back. "We had no idea this table was reserved, but there is no justification for attacking us like this. Aren't we all civilized?"
"Ya callin' us savage, Elf?!" One of the wolf beastkin shouted. He was on the younger side but had dirty white hair tied in a bun. His snarl was unnerving, and he somehow managed to unsheath a dagger at some point.
"I think he is! Fuckin' elven bitch!" another called; this one was more muscular than the first beastkin. His deep voice boomed as he unsheathed two axes from his waist. "I'll fuckin' cut you good!"
"When did I-"
"You think yer better than us? Stupid prissy elf!" bellowed the third beastkin. His gaze was sharper, but his tongue flopped out of his mouth for some reason. A notable diagonal scar cut across his exposed chest. "I'll harvest yer ears and-"
He didn't get to finish his threat as Q slammed his fist into the beastkin's chest. The impact was deafening, as if a shotgun had gone off in front of all of us. The wolfkin skipped across the ground, slamming into another table and scattering the people there. I could only assume those people were okay, but I had no chance to consider further. Their boss had seen enough and lashed out to attack me. I had no clue why the hell he attacked me first when Q was the one who attacked his men.
Claws lashed out, crushing the chair I was standing in front of when I evaded. Screams from other patrons erupted from the display of power, and I watched as many scrambled to flee the building. I wanted to be there with them, but this beastman was hell-bent on attacking me.
"How about we talk about this instead?" I propose, but there was fury in that beastman's gaze.
He snarled in response. Taking that as a decline in civility, I shifted my attention to Q. I don't know what changed, but now the remaining beastkin proved quicker than his comrades. He was a slippery bastard, but he didn't last too long. One mistimed pounce attempt had the beastkin barreling toward his leader from behind. Since I hadn't bothered attacking back and focused on evasion, I was able to avoid their collision.
I quickly moved to Q's side and placed my hand on his shoulder.
"Magnificent display. You taught those dangerous mutts what for," I said triumphantly.
"It's not over yet. Big Dog still wants to play," he retorted with a playful grin.
"You- You! We won't allow you to get away with this! I got your scent! We'll be back for you two!" the leader growled.
I expected him to continue the fight, but to my surprise, he scrambled around and gathered his allies. As he fled the building, the large beastmen had the strength to carry four people on his shoulders. It was impressive to witness, but I found this whole ordeal baffling.
As I surveyed the unneeded damage, I again realized how much control Q showed over his strength. This was a man who was harming the Lynx with chunks of rocks and creating a clearing in a forest, but here, he managed to incapacitate that beastkin and that human without killing any of them.
"I suppose we can't stand around here for longer. Let's leave and wait nearby for Horace," I suggested.
"It can't be helped," Q sighed in agreement.
It would be problematic to remain at this spot, so we decided to flee the scene. After seeing Q's display, no one attempted to prevent us from leaving, which eased our decision. Upon exiting quickly, we were able to blend into the crowd and regrouped in a nearby alleyway. On our way, I noticed that several groups of wolf beastmen and beastkin buzzed the area. I believe they were patrolling the area, but none of them considered looking into our alley.
We waited several minutes, and nothing changed. I expected Horace to somehow find our location quickly, but I assumed wrong. Half an hour later, we were peaking out of the alley when we heard footsteps disturbing the puddles behind us. Q snapped to face the approaching figures. The alley was dark and gloomy, so only the outline of a tail was notable on approach.
"Must be another mutt. I'll put them..." Q charged the figure, but before he finished throwing his punch, he stopped his action, "down?"
His sentence wavered for a moment, and I could see why. In the shade of a wet alley, a familiar figure twirls his mustache. His tail flickered playfully as he approached with a wide grin. Responding to his appearance, Q relaxed at the stop, and I moved to join them at their location.
"Greetings, gentlemen. Mind if I hide here too?"