Bone Diggers - Chapter Fifty One

Loading... Chapter Fifty One

"Just do this one little thing for me?" The plea was clear in Owen's tone.

"It's kind of illegal." Andreah turned forward in her chair and pretended to pay attention to the memo fnVR sent out. She had got in the habit of reading them and she'd be damned if she missed the one that was finally important.

"Oh please, like you've never broke laws during the alley cat races."

"That's different."

Owen edged closer, eating up more of her desk as he sat down. He leaned in like he was going to reveal the truly illegal part of his plan. "Is it the height? The Empire State Building isn't that tall for parkour."

"Are you kidding me? It's—" Andreah stopped as Owen turned his head into his shoulder to stifle a laugh. "You are joking. God damn it, why did I believe you for a second!"

"I admire the trust you have in me," Owen beamed.

Andreah bit her lip as she grinned. One day everything is wrong, then when you least expect it, it's another day, and it's okay. Despite this insight, Andreah made a face. "Ew, gross."

"How are my stars?" Chris announced, "I have news."

"Is it in the memo?" Owen leaned forward to skim something about the lunch room. Not likely.

"No." Chris's brow furrowed as if insulted that he'd come here for that. "We set up a Big Bad for you guys."

Owen scoffed as he got up from Andreah's area and moved over to his streaming space. The game was solid, and it was tiresome the way fnVR had to keep messing with it.

"The last big event wasn't that long ago," Andreah said. "Shouldn't we pace ourselves?"

"The wedding was not planned. Therefore, we could not market it properly, and thus ratings were lost. Furthermore, the arena streams kick our ass because of the action. Our target demo isn't going to tune in for an NPC's wedding."

"Pretty sure you are underestimating everyone's love for Lance," Owen countered.

"Plus," Andreah added. "They say sex sells."

"Touché."

Chris stared at them silently, wondering if they were done. He considered them insufferable when they worked together. Before he ran off to get someone who'd be less civil, Andreah spoke up. "Who is the target?"

"Don Ambrogio Spinola."

Andreah paled at Chris' choice. It didn't matter how many missions ago it was, one does not forget the name of the man who ordered their hanging. Fictional or not. Thinking back that far made her worry that the pain would tint what was going on now. But the world kept moving.

"He dies in 1630," Owen corrected. "It's 1606 in game."

"How do you know that?" Andreah asked.

"Why wouldn't I? Hated that guy for months. I wanted to kill him sooner, but since he's a historically based character I knew the game wouldn't let me."

Chris cleared his throat, and the two turned to look back at him as if they had forgotten about his presence. "That was true, until now. If you want to level before the battle, now is the time."

***

Despite the date, some things were accurate about this day, like the location. They had to travel all the way to Castelnuovo Scrivia, Italy. It took longer to reach Italy than it did the Canary Islands, or Paris. He worried the extra training would gather dust even with the game fudging the details to make this night happen when dictated.

The battle was so huge that one could have sold tickets to witness the depth of the brutality. And maybe they had. Ambrogio Spinola would have secured himself somewhere he could control the battle. This show, however, was not for them. It had been going on before the thieves' intrusion to the field. The Thirty Years' War, as it was so named, was long. This battle alone would not change the tide, but in war, the tide isn't the only thing at stake. Pride, honor, and revenge were always pieces to be won, and re-won, time and again.

The trio of thieves traveled with the Spanish reinforcements that were sent shortly after the Archduke was replaced with General Ambrosio Spinola to help end Spain's losses. The treachery only further unsettled Daniel.

The city in front of them was starting to show the damage upon its walls—only some of which done by the Spaniards, since nature herself bore down the hardest. A small fort had been won under the Don's control, and thus he gained the trust of any Knights who'd doubted him.

The details beyond that were slammed together in a way that was world-shattering to pull apart. Somewhere along the way, the rival commander believed that land wasn't solid enough, so skulls and bones were used.

"Amilia," Daniel called.

She doubted the ramparts were built on top of fallen soldiers to demoralize, but the sight certainly did. The worst part is that this morbid plan didn't even work. The ramparts stood ever crumbling from cannon fire.

"Amilia, you need to take a deep breath and tell me where we are," Daniel continued.

She looked over at him, then Lance, who stood close by with an equally concerned expression. The first half she was able to do, but the rest...

"The commander called this place Nova Troia," Daniel said. "Meaning New Troy. For his vow to hold it as long as the ancient Trojans."

"Charming," Lance said, with a tight expression.

"Do you want to go back?" Daniel asked.

"No," Amilia was quick to say. She glanced around and turned back to the boys with a greater focus. "I hate him as much as the rest of you, and want the peace of knowing this is done."

"Here," Lance said, and pulled off the wedding ring from his hand. They'd done this before to help ground Amilia, and it worked like the worry token Lance offered before. They'd tried similar things, but something about the weight of Lance's offer worked better than anything else.

"Thank you." She took another breath and glanced up the wall again. This time looking at each stone that offered a hand or foothold. "Up we go."

The broken bits made it possible to climb the chipped stones until they made it up the wall. Questions like what was next was lost to the carnage below. Two armies clashed, any civilians left in the city were lost. Or, hopefully, hidden.

Any time war started to feel modern, the harshness of it all was brought back to Daniel. This was hand to hand, pikes and clubs. The sort of battle that made you spit out blood with no reprieve. "The mission is to find and kill the Don. Other wars are not ours today."

Lance had one foot on the ledge as he looked out. Mentally, he mapped what could be used to jump down into the fray. Roof, window awning, scaffolding, ground. "Should we split up to find him faster?"

Daniel debated if it would be wise to clear this top level first, or simply a waste of time, before answering the question he was sure of. "No, we are in this together so we stick together."

That left the deciding vote with Amilia. "Together."

Amilia stood perched like a guardian angel on the scaffolding as Daniel and Lance made the extra leap down. During the first moments of the battle, they focused on defense. Correctly assuming the Spanish soldiers would help as they worked their way through the city. But their nationality would only buy them so much.

The ground was cratered. Shields pushed against the beating of swords from similar men in different tunics. They created a blockage that only showed signs of letting up once enough men were sacrificed.

A clean whistle broke through and Daniel looked up to Amilia, who had free run past the blockage. Ground, wall run, ledge. Daniel took a few steps back and made a run for it. His hands grabbed on the overhang and pulled himself up. Lance followed, and within seconds they were behind, and above, enemy lines.

When the boys dropped back down, one thing was clear to Amilia. Sword fighting was about passion. Lance's movements were fluid like a dance. The soldiers, who were just fighting because they were ordered to, quickly fell to the blade. Daniel's weapons were about closeness. He flipped off a wall to get close enough to sink in his daggers. Her bow was about patience. Being rash in battle might feel right, but the key was biding your time just long enough to send an arrow into someone's chest.

"Lance, behind you!" Amilia called.

He turned, pure instinct, and slashed. The attack was halted as the man collapsed with a bubbling neck wound. Lance give a quick salute up to Amilia before turning back.

"Getting a bit old for this?" Daniel teased as Lance fell back in line with him. He ducked as a halberd swung over his head.

"Watch it, Ortiz," Lance grinned.

Daniel smirked. He kicked his attacker back, who then stumbled into a Spanish soldier who finished the job. The advantage of this war was several front lines. There, leading the onslaught from the west, was the Don they were looking for.

Getting to him was a far loftier mission. Pikes and clubs were only part of their concern. If they got too close Santiago might spot the extra players on the board.

"How much time do we have left?" Lance asked in French. Even though it was doubtful that eavesdroppers could hear over the clash.

"Not much." Daniel glanced around. Forward meant a bunch of Spanish soldiers. The sides, however....

He ran over to a banister, then jumped to a smaller wall and pulled himself up. Lance and Amilia followed with their own free running feats.

Unfortunately, this level was not unguarded. Amilia fired an arrow. The close quarters gave her no favors. A single fist overpowered her more elegant weapon. Her vision flickered from here to somewhere else. Her grunt turned into a yell. Her knee found his gut. Her fist found his jaw, and when he fell, her boot crushed his windpipe. Daniel and Lance stood tense, weapons still drawn.

"I think I might need to retire after this." Amilia shook her head in an attempt to clear it. She moved past the weary boys. "Maybe the four of us should go on vacation."

"Compelling offer," Lance said, as he sheathed his sword.

When the siege was all over, what was left of the enemy garrison was allowed to retreat. Instead of tucking their tails and silently leaving, they marched out with flags flying and drums beating. To say there were a few people left on the streets would have been an overstatement. There was their trio, and maybe another couple tucked by the blacksmiths. Everyone else was either dead or a soldier.

Having a banquet with wine that poured as freely as blood was distasteful, and part of the reason they didn't partake in the Spanish victory. Another reason was that once poison was slipped into the drinks, nothing felt safe. All three of them were too conspicuous, so they bribed a server to deliver their silent weapon.

Once his hand was lined with gold the server smirked and looked up at Daniel. "Pleasure doing business," he said, before slipping out of the room.

"How will we know when it works?" Amilia asked.

"It won't take effect right away," Lance explained. "Which should give us enough time to lure him away from anyone less than excited about our plan."

"You mean the murder plan?" Amilia couldn't help but joke from her spot on the counter.

"Yes, that is what I was referring to."

When dinner died down, the officers started heading back to their new rooms for the night. Which left their target in the main hall, wondering if his meal agreed with him. Daniel walked up to the head table, pulled the large serving fork out, twirling it like any other weapon...which it could be, with such long and sharp prongs. When the movement finally caught Ambrogio's narrow focus, Daniel sat down at the table across from him.

Instead of exchanging a word, the two men just watched each other. Ambrogio's age seemed to catch up with him all at once. Rasping sounds escaped his throat as he struggled for air past the poison that took control. Muttered words formed on his dying lips, but the only ones Daniel could make out were honor and reputation.

"This was war, and now you are bankrupt," Daniel corrected. Amilia thought that would be that, but he went on. "Last time we met I told you I'd be the end of you."

"Just couldn't let nature have me, boy?" Ambrogio strained to speak. "I still have my honor and reputation. What do you have?"

Daniel glanced over to Amilia, who met his gaze as she spun around the ring on her finger. Then looked to Lance, who was carefully watching their target as Daniel took a moment to think of his answer. "I have them." Despite everything he still had both of them at his side.

Their current target was no longer a threat, but when the door opened, everyone tensed. The concern soon settled when it was the server they bribed earlier. "Quick, you can make your escape through the servants' kitchen before anyone takes notice."

"Party's over, let's go." Amilia headed out the door first, followed by Lance, then finally Daniel stepped to join them.

He took only a few steps before a knife at his throat stopped him. "Remember me?" the server asked from behind.

Daniel carefully exhaled as if even that would be too much to bare. "Maybe you could refresh my memory?"

"I already know the answer," the man said, with a growing hate in his tone. "I know that you don't. You didn't even pause for a second before you bribed me to do your dirty work. Like I was no different than any other tool."

A white hot pain erupted from Daniel's side. A gulp accompanied his swimming vision. The knife that was once at his throat was pulled from his side. Daniel fell forward with the help of a shove. He held his side, and turned to stare up at his attacker. But his face wasn't the concerning thing. It's what was said next.

"Fucking roleplayers."

"What?" Daniel said, too confused for any other remark. How much hate and bile was needed to blur the player's thought and make it real?

"Name's Elijah. It's nice to meet you again after all this time."