CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Troubles of the Shire

  Some days after establishing his duel with Ser Anthony, Bram, Rowan, and the three Earthers arrived at the city of Bellen on the northern tip of Bastille Shire.

  Located oskirts of the Red Forest, the great woodnd realm b tral and northern Lotharin, Bellen was an important city that was both a focus of trade and a gateway between the north aer.

  Getting into Bellen wasn’t difficult as the walled city hadn’t yet yielded to the rule of the northern nobles. Although their influence could be felt within its walls through the tensions growiween locals and their northern visitors such as the quarrel happening at this very moment only a few yards past the city gates.

  “What’re you looking at?” growled a gray-bearded, barrel-chested man in a fur jacket.

  “I-I’m not looking at anything, Ser,” replied a sandy-haired boy with a bag of firewood slung over his back. “I-I was just minding my own business…o-on my way back to the smithy…”

  “You calling me a liar then?” the gray-bearded man growled. “I saw you eyeing my mate’s purse just now, bas—”

  A great bck hart pulled to a stop between them, f the gray-bearded man to back away or risk getting trampled on. Sitting astride this magnifit beast, his face half-veiled in a merary’s hood, was the seventh prince of Atn.

  “What the bloody hell—”

  Bram spoke no words, but the daggers in his eyes revealed the seething rage that seemed ever-present underh his usually calm and fun demeanor.

  The gray-bearded fellow wasn’t a small maher, but he couldn’t help shutting up at the sight of Bram’s hostility. Even with his ck of talent in sorcery, the prince’s physique alone made him an intimidating enter with anyone who didn’t know his real identity and saw him only as the merary he appeared to be.

  Yes, Bram wasn’t pretending to be a bard for this adventure. He had opted for the more ventional mask of a merary because he’d reasohat much of his work in Bellen would require a mh-haouch than the one used to strum his lute.

  “Oi,” a short-haired woman with a scar on her left cheek pulled on the gray-bearded man’s arm from behind, “now’s not the time to start trouble…remember?”

  She wore a simir fur jacket as the gray-bearded man. The noble crest on her left sleeve was of a pair of blue clouds, marking her as a member of House von Galen’s forces. The two others standing behind her wore the same uniform as well.

  “I wasn’t looking for no trouble.” the gray-bearded man oward Bram. “That bloke’s the one who tried to trample me.”

  The scarred woman eyed Bram warily, aurned her gaze with a cool eye.

  “We’re soldiers of—”

  “Baron Archibald von Galen,” Bram finished for her. “What of it?”

  She seemed taken aback by his brazenness, and an increased wariness fshed on her face.

  Bram uood.

  Most meraries would’ve sheathed their hostility at the mention of a ron. At least this was true for those without patrons themselves.

  “Baron Archibald doesn’t rule this city…”

  Bram made a show of gazing back toward Bellen’s gate which was a good forty yards away behind them. Unfurled upon its high walls were banners of a red pinee on a field of yellow.

  “This is Leyen nd…”

  When his golden-eyed gaze returo the scarred woman’s face, Bram’s hao the pommel of his sword.

  As if on cue, a sed hart rode up beside Bram’s. Its rider was a tall, fair-skinned man in a brown padded jacket whose shoulders were nearly as wide as the prince’s. Like Bram’s entrance, Chris spoke no words, but a pair of deep blue eyes underh bushy brows gazed ily down on the scarred woman as well.

  Mistaking these two riders as House Leyen’s men, the scarred woman raised her hands in peace. “We’re not looking for trouble…”

  With a nod of her , the other soldiers of von Galen, including the gray-bearded man, began walking away. However, before she followed them, the scarred woman tossed a furled scroll up at Bram.

  “The baron pays much more for strong-armed meraries than House Leyen ,” she promised. “e find us at the Red Pine Inn if you’re ied.”

  With o wary look at Bram and Chris, the scarred woman chased after her panions who’d joihe throng of people moving deeper into the city’s interior.

  Bram peeked at the tents of the scroll and smiled. “We may take you up on that offer.”

  While thoughts of infiltrating the baron’s forces pyed in his mind, a russet hart trotted over to his other side, its rider veiled by a deep emerald hood.

  “You ask me not to make a se”—Rowan sounded amused—“a here you are pying the errant knight.”

  At her words, Bram gnced over his shoulder, but there was no sign of the sandy-haired boy the gray-bearded man accosted. The d had probably escaped during the stand-off.

  “He didn’t even bother to thank you,” Rowan ented.

  “I didn’t do it fratitude,” Bram said as he steered Renfri back to where Hajime was struggling with his hart on the opposite side of the road. “I only—”

  “You wao blow off steam,” Rowan finished his thought.

  Bram sighed but nodded.

  Over the st few days, the northern nobles visiting Bastille had begun to make hey didn’t challenge him overtly, but Baron Archibald and Vite Henry had started a campaign to gain supporters among the highborn of Bastille to create an opposition against Bram’s rule in the ter. This wasn’t difficult to achieve since maral nobles already thought poorly of their new governor, including the eorls of the three shires b Bastille to the south, east, a. Meanwhile, the two lords’ men had also started causing trouble among the locals of Bastille much like what they were doing here in Bellen.

  Bram’s patience was growing thin, though he stayed his hand because he didn’t yet have the strength to achieve a decisive victainst the North.

  “Patience,” Rowan reminded him. “Our time will e.”

  “I know…” Bram turo face their panio. “Thanks for the assistance, Chris.”

  “Unlike Bridge, I wouldn’t have been any help in a fight,” Chris o the ghostly blue window floating close to his face. “It’s been a few days but I’m still getting used to all of this.”

  As the Loom’s chief administrator, Bram rivy to the statuses of all those who joihe great uaking. It’s how he khat Chris had chosen to bee a ‘Squire’, one of the only two beginner jobs the Loom offered to the otherworlders besides Hajime’s are novice.

  While Chris rode alongside him, Bram observed that the Texan had lost much of the gauhat marred his face when they met several nights ago. He thought this was good because it meant Chris was enjoying his time on Aarde enough that his health was rec from overw in his former job. Bram hoped all the otherworlders they summoned iure would feel the same sense of rejuvenation. It would burden his sce less if they did.

  “Let Aarde be a pce of healing as well as excitement.” Bram mused aloud. Then, guiding Renfri back to where Hajime and Bridget waited, he added, “Let’s move on…the adventure awaits.”

  Later, after they’d spent some time expl the main thhfare, with the otherworlders enjoying their first glimpse of a city that wasn’t Bastille, Bram’s party of five entered a less promi district of Bellen close to its northern wall. It was dirtier and poorer than what they’d seen of the rest of Bellen and worse off than Bastille’s Lowtown.

  The buildings on both sides of the pothole-ridden cobblestoreet seemed in dire need of repairs. The paint on houses was chipped, and their walls were flooded by graffiti. Storefronts were bordered up, their shutters closed due to a ck of business. Thankfully, the smell wasn’t too bad because the sewers underh the city seemed well-maintained.

  “We saw signs of poverty ba the main streets too, but this is worse,” Bridget observed.

  She aherworlder friends were eyeing a pair of urs oher side of the street. They each had oily, matted hair and faces streaked with dirt. Their clothes were frayed too, with one of the children, a little girl, missing a shoe.

  “I…I want to help them,” Hajime said, his face ched in . “Chris, we spare some griffins?”

  “Sure, we give them griffins enough for a bite to eat, but I’m not sure we should…” Chris oward a nearby alley where a gang of shady-looking locals were eyeing the party with hungry gazes. “I re someone will just steal the money from those kids once we’re out of sight.”

  “Then I’ll give them food,” Hajime insisted.

  He was about to turn his hart toward the other side of the street when Bridget grabbed its reins.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she suggested. “It’s safer than y to ride over there and actally trampling them to death.”

  Chris chuckled. “Good thinking.”

  Bram, who’d been listening to their versation, was gd that they who hailed from another world seemed eager to assist Lotharin’s citizens without him needing to goad them. However, he wasn’t certain that a well-meaning act of charity was the right way to aid those children.

  Silently, he watched as Bridget approached the urs with the rations Hajime had givehey were wary of her at first, but the st of fresh bread and dried beef jerky quickly won them over. Soon enough, the children were stuffing their faces with food, and the sight of their toothy smiles as they ate, the tears of gratitude pooling underh sunken eyes, well, even Rowan seemed affected by this se.

  “It’s not enough…” Bram’s brow creased. “To truly aid the impoverished of this city, we o deal with the source of Bellen’s troubles.”

  “Is this a result of losing trade with the north?” Rowan asked.

  Bram shook his head. “The north stopped trade only a short while ago, but Bellen’s dee started long before this.”

  The prinew the cause of the city’s growing poverty since he’d read about it in Ser Anthony’s report on the shire’s s. It was the same one he’d shared with Chris and Rowan the day he decided to use Bellen’s troubles to fund their great uaking.

  As a city built oskirts of the Red Forest, Bellen’s livelihood depended on the woodnd realm. Their main trade was lumber taken from red pihough fur, leather, and iron were resources abundant in the red forest too. Unfortunately, the dangers of the forest increased signifitly these past ten months. To the point that the Leyen barony’s soldiers were no longer enough to protect the loggers, miners, or hunters who made their living there. Nor could the city guard effectively patrol and secure the southern half of the ‘Red Road’ that was the main thhfare betweeral and northern Lotharin.

  “It’s not simply a problem of erce, but also of security,” Bram finished.

  “The Red Forest is a. It was here long before your Imperium’s birth,” Rowan recalled, her lips pursing slightly. “It holds mas — some quite dangerous — though such dangers are well-hidden or in deep slumber…”

  “Secrets like yours?” Bram asked.

  “There are s like mine,” Rowan replied.

  The prince couldn’t help notig the fleeting mencholy irickster’s expression.

  “Though I will admit that there are elements in the Red Forest, which, if awoken, might stir the great troubles you’ve mentioned,” she ceded.

  “Yet another reason why we o recruit champions from Earth…” Bram gnced over his shoulder at Hajime, who, though still struggling with his steed, was managing to keep pace with Chris and Bridget who’d returned from her good work of charity. “I’m looking forward to hearing your pns to ensure reat uaking’s success.”

  Chris, riding to Hajime’s left, reported, “Thanks to the money y’all ied in us, we’ve beguing up our new gaming studio—”

  “—which we’re calling ‘Trickster Studios’ by the way,” Bridget cut in.

  “A clever name.” Smugness fshed on Rowan’s face. “I like it.”

  “Of course, you would,” Bram replied.

  “The name’s not set in sto,” Chris remihem. “We’re still waiting to get the trademark for the brand and logo design. It might take a while. New York’s patent and trademark office is notoriously slow with these things.”

  Seeing one of Rowan’s eyebrows twitg upward made Chris clear his throat.

  “But, um, I’m sure we ask them to prioritize our request,” he ceded. He then switched the topiething less hazardous than irking a rebel trickster of legend. “On the bright side, with the boss’ iment secured in our new bank at, we’ve at least proven that financial trade is possible between worlds.”

  A day after the Fiool was created, just like the Loom had promised, ohe two bank ats were set up, Chris was able to exge his promissory h the Bank of Steel for ten gold griffins taken from the Lotharin Iment Fund. At the same time, the system firmed to Bram that the thousand US dolrs Chris had traded for those ten gold griffins had also been deposited to the then-uudio’s new pany at ba Earth after dedug the amount from Chris’ bank at.

  This first successful trade inspired the prio send an iment of wealth to Earth.

  Using the Loom’s currency exge tool, Bram had verted a vast amount of griffins into cryptocurrency, which, after the griffins’ digital equivalent arrived in Chris’ custodial wallet, the Texan then sold it for the money he would deposit into the pany’s at.

  Traio foresee ‘game bugs’ in advance, Chris had informed his bank that the money—which he’d transferred in is of a huhousand US dolrs—art of an iment made by an individual ior to fund their new game studio. This helped ehat the fledgling business wouldn’t e under scrutiny from the IRS or over institutions that were on watch for bad schemes like money undering.

  Here in the present, Chris ended his expnation with, “We’re alright for now, but we keep doing it this way and the Feds will notice, and they might start asking questions about where the money’s ing from.”

  Based on their ret discussions about iments and RMTs, Bram had learned quite a bit about Earth’s banking system, which he thought was simir to how the Bank of Steel did business. So, it was with fidehat he said, “Your side will have to prepare receipts for any financial transas and pay the appropriate taxes ohe game uhat’ll ensure legitimaost of our earnings.”

  “That’s actually what we should do.” Chris couldn’t help sounding impressed. “When did you bee a finance expert?”

  Bram was still a teenager with little experien worldly matters. Yet he’d arrived at the same clusioexan had one sed earlier.

  “Trying to keep a failing kingdom afloat is givis of practice with eics,” Bram answered, chug as he did.

  “Heavy is the head that wears the ,” Chris replied, chug too. After a short while, he cleared his throat, and added, “Anyway, ohe studio’s up and running, we’ll hire a team on our side that’ll work to ie the Loom with the gear we’ve picked as the summoning bea for y’all’s ritual over here.”

  “That’ll be the Visionary II,” Bridget chimed in.

  Acc to the otherworlders, the ‘Visionary II’ was a newer version of the device that Bram had seen in his vision that had sparked his inal idea for the great uaking.

  “The Visionary II has a sleeker wireless visor with built-in high-end i trag aernal object trag. Its tactile gloves and supplementary body suit also offer better haptic feedback than the old sed-gen VR tools,” Hajime expined.

  These tech details sent fusion flitting across Bram’s and Rowan’s faces.

  “What Hajime means is that the Visionary II’s hardware will help fool people into thinking this world isn’t real,” Bridget crified.

  “It will be the most realistic VR game they’ll ever py,” Hajime finished, smiling sheepishly.

  “I see,” Bram lied.

  Truly, the sce of Earth was difficult for him to prehend just as it was challenging for Chris and Bridget to uand the sorcery of Aarde.

  “Let me know if you need more iment.” The prince’s gaze drifted to a tall spire further away. “It’s why we’ve e here instead of meeting with Bellen’s lord.”

  Though Bellen art of Bastille Shire’s territory, the barony of House Leyen were lords of the city. Their matriarch, Baroness Lena, was a loyalist who was once a sorcerer in direct service to the Sn. The prince wasn’t sure that loyalty exteo himself because rumors of Baroness Lena fav visitors from the north had spread even to Bastille. Fortunately, Bram hadn’t e to Bellen to test House Leyen’s oath to the Sn’s blood. He and his panions were iy for another purpose…recruitment.

  The party rode their horses up to the gate at the end of the ne. Beyond it was a shabby-looking mahat had seeer days like the rest of the impoverished street.

  “So, here’s where we shall find…” Rowan’s face turned ptive. “…What did you call them again, Hajime?”

  “Tech support,” Hajime answered.

  Rooio the symbol engraved on the rusted wrought iron gate; three eight-poiars set in a triangle formation.

  “From its sigil, I assume this fulfill that need,” she said.

  “C-?!” Hajime gnced sideways at her, his eyes widening slightly.

  Unlike Hajime, Bridget’s gaze was alight with curiosity. “You’re not talking about vampires, right?”

  “Vampires?” Bram repeated.

  Hearing this otherworlder mention the undead sce sequestered in the faraway northern ti caused the prince’s brows to stitch together. He found it strahat a world without magic would know of vampires and s. Though, from their expressions, Bram guessed that the meaning of a ‘’ oh differed greatly from what it meant here on Aarde.

  “There’s no cause for fear,” he promised.

  The prihen expined how a was not a pce where evil gathered but one where sorcerers came together in search of enlighte.

  “It’s a gathering of those who follow the same are traditions and sorcerous practices, united as they are in the on purpose of solving specific are mysteries,” he expined.

  “Which, based on their sigil…” Roressed her hand against the rusted wrought iron gate which groa her touch. “…should be divination, shamanism, and—”

  With a single flick of her wrist, the gate gave way to her prodigious strength, with one-half of it flying off its hinges and crashing onto the rown front wn beyond.

  “Summoning arts,” she finished.

  Bram sighed. “I asked you not to cause a se.”

  As the front door of the manse flew open, with several people in bright green robes rushing out of it, their hands glowing with the telltale sparks of magic, Rowan fshed Bram an impish grin.

  “I’ve simply rung the bell, My Prince,” she replied teasingly. “Now, shall we introduce ourselves?”

  GD_Cruz