It turned out lacertians weren’t as big on sentimentality as I’d thought.
Just before sundown, the Latrocinium arrived, and the student council went out to meet them.
Last time, Cutter Joran had strolled up on foot with a handful of his gang. This time, the Latrocinium rolled up in intimidating style in a magically propelled carriage that was covered in steel plates and protective enchantments, accompanied by a small army of thugs.
Me, Azarin, Rade, Krachma, and Trax waited for them by our charred front door.
When the neighborhood saw the black and yellow banner draped over the side of that monstrous carriage, they all ran and hid. Curtains were pulled tight. Shutters were closed. Children were herded inside. Even the dogs were scared to bark and the chickens stopped clucking.
“That sure is an awful lot of them,” Azarin said.
“Hmmm… Maybe I should have run for the realm of water after all,” Rade mused.
“Too damp,” Krachma grunted. “Krachma rather die.”
“Excellent point, my friend.”
There had to be a hundred thugs, all of them wearing a black band on their arm, and every last one was armed. I recognized a few familiar faces from our raid upon the Tooth and Claw’s waterfront hideout. Those gave me respectful nods. That respect would not stop them from killing us all should their boss order it, of course. Still, it was nice to see.
The Latrocinium spread out around us as the carriage slowed and came to a stop only a few feet away. This thing had so much magic on it that I could practically smell the Red coming off its power source. Instead of a golem driver, the two insectoid beasts with sword hands which normally protected Carcalla’s office rode on top. Radiating danger, they surveyed us with their blank stone eyes.
A metal door on the side creaked open and set of stairs was lowered.
Joran didn’t bother with the steps. He just hopped out and swaggered over to greet us. “Good evening, Carnavon. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you still here. Hotlanders are notoriously stubborn.” Then he gave Azarin a little bow. “My lady. Proving Stormwolk to be as headstrong and heedless of danger as claimed.” Then he smirked at Krachma and Rade. “You two ne’er-do-wells I thought would be smart enough to get out while the getting’s good.”
Rade waved one hand dismissively. “As a noble house in exile, I enjoy taking up lost causes.”
“Krachma hates being wet.”
Joran didn’t know how to respond to that bit of out-of-context nonsense from our lob, so he turned his attention toTrax. The two dead-eyed killers thought greetings at each other. After a moment, Joran cracked a smile, nodded respectfully at Trax, then returned to the carriage.
What did he say?I thought.
“May our parley remain placid, but should it end in violence, then he would be honored to kill and eat me. Which is a traditional Squalo greeting. I returned this greeting, then I implied that as a mighty Squalo, I would be able to devour him whole, while as a feeble human, he would be forced to cut me into steaks, cook my flesh until tender, then further render me into bite-sized chunks using utensils before he would be able to consume my flesh. This is humorous because human teeth are ineffectual, and your jaws are weak.”
Wow. Spending time around all us sarcastic humans, and Trax was starting to get some attitude on him. “You sure told him what’s up.”
Joran thumped the side of the carriage. “All clear.”
The next person to get out was Dathka Walker. She looked better than last night, but was still battered, bruised, and had one arm in a sling. The Latrocinium may have had their own healer, but he must have not been a really strong one. She remained stone-faced as she looked us over. You’d think that she’d feel some measure of gratitude for all the help we’d given her, enough to maybe even advocate for us to her father, but if so, she gave no indication.
Rade, of course, tried to be charming, as usual. “Ah, the dangerous lily of Surnod Lin is looking beautiful as ever. In case you forgot, when last we met, you were a bit more flustered, as I’d just saved you from falling to your certain doom.”
“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Tartaros?” she asked.
“I was merely reminding you of our recent adventures…” Rade trailed off as he saw who else was getting out of the carriage. He’d not seen Carcalla before, but my description ofthe pointy ears and distinct facial scars had done the man justice enough that it was obvious who this was. Rade gulped. “Never mind.”
Carcalla was dressed in a black suit. Once free of the confines of the carriage, he placed a black top hat on his bald head. He looked around the pathetic clearing that served as our yard, then snapped his fingers.
Promptly, several goblins ran around the side of the carriage and began unstrapping things from the back. Within seconds, they’d assembled three chairs and a table, and then they hurried out of the way. Carcalla and Dathka sat on their side of the table. Joran remained standing, wary behind his boss. There was only one chair on the Outcasts side. Carcalla gestured toward it. Being the Outcast’s appointed spokesman and designated sacrifice, I sat down. The rest of the student council remained a polite distance behind me.
Another goblin brought out cups and a bottle, and began pouring wine for the three of us at the table. I was glad for that, because my nerves were making my mouth really dry.
“So, Mr. Carnavon, I’ve been thinking about our arrangement.”
“As have I, your landlordship.”
Carcalla gestured to where his gang was waiting just out of earshot of our conversation. “I had this show of force all ready to go. It’s been a while since the denizens of the Under Slump have had a proper reminder of what happens to those who cross me. There would’ve been some gunfire and general butchery, then we’d burn your things and whip the survivors in the street. Such displays are necessary from time to time to keep order.”
