Chapter 89: Book 2 Chapter 18: I Shall Hope for His Death

Book 2 Chapter 18: I Shall Hope for His Death

Dantes woke up to the feeling of the sun beating down on him in the high heat of midafternoon. He squinted, slowly pulling himself up. His mouth was dry and tasted of bile. He dragged himself to his bedroll and grabbed his waterskin. He swished a mouthful of water around in his mouth and spat it out at a nearby vine complaining of thirst. He then took several small sips.

Jacopo dragged himself over to him, and Dantes poured some of the water into the palm of his hand and held it to him so that he could drink as well. They both sat there in silence for some time. Listening to the sleeptalking of the bats nearby and the gossip of some pigeons that sat perched above them. They were both exhausted, and heavily weakened by their experience. Dantes could tell…could feel that he’d lost something of himself when he’d severed his connection to his old garden.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He looked at the threads that spread out from him, finding that the rest of the connections he’d forged were still in place. The gardens he’d planted, the vermin he’d fed, the flowers he’d helped bloom, all of them still had rivers that flowed to and from him in almost equal measure. He clenched and unclenched his fist, checking his strength as he wondered what would’ve happened had he had only the one garden when it was destroyed.

He began to reach out his senses, sending rats to check on the Vixen. It was still being monitored, but Vampa was there and the girls and Vera seemed safe and busy. He let out a sigh of relief. That relief quickly turned to concern as his mind began to consider everything that had happened. His garden had gone mad and been eating attacking people. He could sense the blood of dozens flowing through it when he had been connected to it fully. Had that been what had caused the second breakout? If so, had they connected it all to Dantes? Those he’d been looking for as friends to help could well be enemies now, and he couldn’t blame them. He’d been searching for any collared or anyone else he’d recognize, but Rendhold was a big city, and even with his abilities if he didn’t have a good idea of where to start a search then he might never find anyone. The majority of prisoners probably fled for the walls, or tried to sign up onto a ship. It wasn’t like the guards could watch every exit.

He forced himself to stand. Keeping all of these plates spinning wasn’t going to get any easier if he took the time to rest. He moved over to the small bowl and mirror he used for cleaning. He stared into the mirror for a long time. He was astonished at how different he looked. He’d felt weaker, he’d expected to, but in the mirror he almost didn’t recognize himself. His eyes were more deeply sunken, his cheeks hollow, his muscles had deteriorated, and his clothes seemed to hang off of him. It was as if the vitality had been sucked from his body. He looked worse than he had in the Underprison before he’d gained his powers.

He poured water into his bowl and cupped it in his hands, about to clean his face, when he hesitated. He looked different. He looked pathetic and weak and in dire need of help. He thought of the man who had torn through his garden with his spear. The same man he’d seen fight in the Adventurer’s Guild arena. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d want to help a man like the one Dantes seemed to be at that moment.

Jacopo slowly made his way over to him, sensing his thoughts. “He was strong, it’s quite possible he could do it and not die.”

Dantes smiled. “Even if he lives, we’d still benefit. Seems like a win, win.”

Jacopo cleaned his whiskers. “I shall hope for his death.”

…

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Dantes walked through the guild district with a limp, still reeking of vomit and bile. He’d exchanged his nice green coat for a well worn brown one with some suspicious red stains. Getting there had taken some time as he found himself winded far more easily than he had been before. Still, he preserved, already sensing a bit of his strength starting to return as his gardens began to nourish and restore him.

It wasn’t hard to locate Gavain, he was eating at a pub near the Adventurer’s Guild, and a small crowd was gathered outside and gossiping about him. The streets were positively buzzing from his successful slaying of the “Crimson Garden”, as the bards were already calling it. Dantes was also sad to see that the mother’s reach he’d planted was nearly gone, being cute meter by meter by specialist mages sent from the Academy. Apparently there had been a long delay to their involvement as they did their best to extort additional payment and privilege from the city in order to do it.

Dantes reached the edge of the small crowd and took note of all of the watchers outside of the building. There were two at each door, keeping anyone from getting in to speak to Gavain. From what Dantes could tell, Gavain himself seemed ignorant of that arrangement, a slick handler wearing a silver adventurer’s pin and a black coat chainmail stood near him, managing him and his escort expertly.

Dantes waited outside. It wouldn’t be that difficult for him to sneak in and approach the man when he was eating, but it would be easier to do so once he was out on the street. He leaned against a wall in a nearby alley and did his best imitation of a beggar. That made him nearly invisible.

Gavain finished his meal, and his handlers cleared the nearby area of gawkers before he exited the pub and began moving down the street. Dantes followed behind them for a time, eavesdropping.

“I think it would be good to see more of the city,” said Gavain to his primary handler wearing the silver wolf pin.

“You were only called here to help the city deal with the crimson garden. Otherwise you would’ve been sent on another dragon hunt right away. There are few others who can hunt them as you do, and the longer you’re away the more likely some poor family is going to be burnt to a crisp.”

Gavain sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Seeing more will have to wait.”

Dantes moved a half dozen roaches onto the feet of some handlers, distracting them as he slipped by, and began approaching Gavain.

The man in the black coat appeared in front of him, quick as lightning, and struck him hard in the gut before he could react, his gloved fist hitting Dantes with the weight of a brick.

“What are you doing!?” asked Gavain.

“The man was approaching you quickly, and he has a dagger at his waist.”

“Everyone has a weapon here.” Gavain pushed past the man and helped Dantes to his feet.

“Ser, are you okay?”

Dantes suppressed a smile. The punch to the gut had been a surprise, but it looked like it was going to help him in the long run. He looked up with his most miserable expression, something between a kicked puppy, and a dying orphan.

“No, milord. I came here to ask for yer help.”

“My help?”

The man in black moved toward him. “If he needs something, he’ll need to petition the guild. He isn’t your problem.”

Gavain ignored him. “What is it you need?”

The man in black let out an exasperated sigh.

“My wife and children ser… They’ve been taken. I think they’re going to be sold to Frasheid as slaves.”

Gavain’s eyes hardened at the mention of slavery. “Have you contacted the guard?”

“Aye sir… and they beat me for my efforts. I’d expected that, but I had nowhere else to turn.”

“Where are they?”

“Gavain, you can’t really be considering helping him? You're an adventurer! This isn’t your business. Now that the Underprison is cleared you need to be back to questing. This city doesn’t need help like those smaller towns and villages do. They can handle themselves.”

That made good sense to Dantes. Most of the business the Guild got was because so many frontier towns and settlements couldn’t get support from their rulers. He just hoped that Gavain didn’t care.

“The God of Justice put this man in my path for a reason. I must help him.”

“You can’t get involved in things like this! It’s too messy! Use your he—”

Gavain surprised Dantes by grabbing him and throwing him over his shoulder before leaping over one of the handlers and running down the street.

“Tell me where to go.”

Dantes shook his head, his eyes seeming to bounce at the sudden and rapid movement. “Toward the docks, Milord. They have them caged in a warehouse.”

“Yeah… I’m going to need step by step directions. Cities confuse me.”

“Take a left up ahead, Milord.”