Chapter 48: The Irregularities [2]
Dulhard had been surprisingly loyal, for a thug with twitchy hands and a tendency to lie when convenient.
Ever since I saw where his family lived—wife and two kids tucked away in a leaking corner house by the southern merchant slums—he’d been much more cooperative. Fear is a good leash. A predictable one. Still, he wasn’t without use. When I needed someone to help me cross the illegal gate and trek into monster-infested territory, he was the first and only name on the list.
There was a crooked little message house near the wall. A bunch of sketchy messengers operated there, willing to deliver anything to anyone for the right price. I passed a silver coin, wrote down my orders, and left.
"Meet me by the mule track at dawn. Bring the cart. And guts."
The next morning, as the fog still slept over the trees, Dulhard arrived. His cart creaked like it might collapse under the weight of its own anxiety, and the man driving it looked only marginally better.
"I got your... thing," he said, avoiding eye contact. "What sort of mess are you dragging me into this time, Lord Valen?"
"An easy one," I replied with a smile that wasn’t a smile. "Unless you scream. Then it becomes harder. For you."
He muttered something inaudible about "nobles and their weird hobbies," but nodded and hopped down from the cart.
I didn’t trust him. But he feared me, and that was better than trust.
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We started our journey through the forest, traveling light. The sun peeked through the canopy in patches, flickering like the gods were blinking too much.