Page 1 - Over the Bridge

Hiking was one of Gusteau’s favourite parts of adventuring. For the last few days, they had been travelling through the gorgeous, gently undulating hills of the south eastern of the Hiford province. The back trails that wound through the countryside of Weidenland were sorely underappreciated in his opinion. Only a handful of travellers bothered to travel down the small trails they were walking on and Gusteau found it to be a sad lack of a lack of joie de vivre and imagination from the common folk.

He happily meandered at the back of the party and cherished the quiet. He had a lot to be pleased with. He had an excellent adventuring party. He’d known they were going to be but they had shown they could perform during the last few months. And just the day before they had proven themselves yet again.

They had been incredible. He had heard people in the tavern discuss when they’d found the local woman down in the Crescent Caves and he was confident that they’d be the talk of the town when they brought home their latest quarry.

It still felt outlandish to suddenly become an adventurer. When he and Khlen had discussed becoming an adventuring party in the north nearly a year ago, it had seemed too big a goal to achieve. Now, it all felt so wonderfully feasible. Nothing could bring his mood down.

That was until a loose rock shifted his weight unexpectedly, sending his lower back back into painful spasms.

“Ah ah ah,” he breathed deeply through the pain and rubbed the angry muscles in his lower back in a vain attempt to soothe them. He had known his back was going to hurt when he’d camped out the owlbear’s nest. He’d spent hours laying at a strange angle, watching for the owlbear to leave its home.

But it had been so worth it. They had been hired to collect an owl cub for a wealthy contractor, Viera, and return the little one alive. It was a hell of a copper contract so the money wasn’t much, but reconnecting with Viera would be their ticket into future House contracts - many of which would be very lucrative. And considering his party had managed to defy all odds and take the cub while leaving its mother relatively unharmed, Gusteau had a very good feeling.

Gusteau twisted his back abruptly and his back gave a satisfying crack. Sweet relief, for a moment at least.

The little owl cub lay under a blanket in the cage in front of him. It would have been barely a month old, by his guess, but it was already weighing in at a good ten kilograms. He and Xolrun had an ongoing bet about exactly how heavy it would be when they weighed it in Ol’Haran.

Poor Xolrun was also sore from their escapades the day before. She had carried the owl club out of the cave by herself, dragging the large, anesthetized cub out inch by inch.

Xolrun had told them she had been furious when she snuck into the cave and found the cub was nearly half her size.

She didn’t seem to have much issue with walking from what Gusteau could see but she wasn’t one to exaggerate. She was walking with Hoden at the front of the group, deep in a discussion about something to do with roads, maintenance, provincial jurisdiction, and the Houses. They had been talking about it for an hour already and listening to them chat had been a defining factor in him dropping to the back of the party.

Gusteau wouldn’t make the same mistake as last time when he stumbled into one of Hoden and Xolrun’s heated conversations with an overly interested look on his face.

Gusteau had made the decision that day that he would avoid getting sucked into their intense conversations when possible but he was pleased to see them becoming so close so quickly. Gusteau was the only person either of them knew in the party when they had joined him in the IAC and now the two of them were thick as thieves.

It had been good for Xolrun in particular. She was born in the Northern Isles and making friends was a particular challenge for her. She was a faetyr and that made her something of an outsider in Weidenland. She was mid height for her species, maybe 5 foot, and she wore her fur long as was tradition and did little to hide her goatish features.

Hoden dwarfed her when he stood next to her.  He was human, like Gusteau, but he was a strapping young lad. Gusteau had no idea just how tall he was but he was easily a head taller than Gusteau, who was 5’8”, and Hoden was considerably wider too.

Gusteau had met him when Hoden was a town guard in Ol’Haran a long time ago. They’d met by chance when Gusteau was frequenting Ol'Haran for one of his research grants and they continued to bump into each other every so often. After a few years of Gusteau coming and going through Ol’Haran, he'd look for Hoden at the gates  and stop for a chat when they had the chance.

When Gusteau had decided to settle in Ol’Haran, he had been delighted to see that Hoden had taken one of the advertisements he’d put out for adventurers. From then, the two of them had become fast friends.

And Hoden was only one of the surprises for Gusteau. The way Ana and Xolrun had come to Ol’Haran to join him smacked of the beginning of the sort of grand adventure that Gusteau had always dreamt of and the forming of their excellent party had only confirmed that he was being guided to adventuring.

They all were but, sadly, he was the only one that wanted to revel in the joy of adventuring at that moment. His biggest challenge right now was the rest of them seemed intent on speed walking their way home when they could be taking in the sights. Gusteau wandered over to the edge of the road and picked a particular red flower that caught his eye.

He would have to enjoy it while he could. The trails had started to open up again and, at a guess, they were close to the Great Southern Road judging by how well cleared the path was and how worn the dirt was. It wouldn’t be long before they’d turn onto one of the few cobblestone roads in the south and see other travellers again.

In front of him,  Ana said something to Khlen but the two of them suddenly slowed to a stop. Turning towards him, Ana nodded her head in greeting.

“How’s the back?” she asked brightly.

“Aching but that seems only fair,” Gusteau replied, “And if I tilt my body like this and walk at a forty five degree angle, it is utter bliss.” He demonstrated before quickly wrenching his body back into an upright position.

Ana shook her head, “The state of you. Maybe ask Khlen to have a look at it when we make camp?”

The idea made Gusteau’s heart skip a beat, “That’s a great idea.”

Khlen was just in front of them and she was walking by herself at that point. She walked with graceful elegance, she was cool, confident, and deadly. He’d always liked how she walked. It was as if the wind itself kissed each of her steps when she walked. Her tail swept from side to side in a merry step with her legs and Gusteau melted at the sight of her. She was a stunning orukian woman with bright green scales that shone in the sunlight.

He’d not had the nerve to ask her when they would catch up again once they made it back to town but his sore back was the perfect excuse. He could ask her to visit him and help him with his back and maybe, they could go out for dinner again. The very idea made him giddy with excitement.

Ana let out a little laugh and bumped into Gusteau playfully. Lost in his own little world, Gusteau stumbled and then reared in pain.

“Ow ow ow, Ana please. Be gentle with me.” he pleaded with her while he rubbed his lower back. Ana took his arm and helped him into a comfortable position with a wicked grin.

Ana had always been a cheeky sort. As cheeky as she was brilliant. Gusteau had known her since she was young, having  been close friends with her parents for years before she was even born. She said that when she got his letter about the adventuring party, she and Lillian had packed their bags that night.

“You should just tell her how you feel, uncle.” Ana chided him quietly.

“Oh, should I?” Gusteau pretended to think about it for a moment, “I don’t know, it wouldn’t make sense to keep telling her about how I feel, would it?”

Ana’s face was absolutely worth the incessant questions that were surely going to follow. Ana’s mouth hung open for a second and then he received a thwack on the shoulder.

“You told her? What did she say? When did you tell her? How does she feel?” Ana’s questions came thick and fast and, despite her whispering, her very audible excitement was blowing their cover.

Khlen looked back at them, smiled and flickered her tongue out quickly. Gusteau waved to her and she gave him a cute scowl. Gusteau feigned innocence and whispered to Ana, “I think she may be onto us, little one.”

“Yeah, fine. But you owe me answers later,” Ana started walking faster. Gusteau matched her and they hurried to catch up with Hoden and Xolrun.

They had made it a considerable distance ahead of Gusteau but had slowed down at what looked like the old bridge they’d crossed the day before. Curiously, there was now a cart diagonally blocking the middle of the bridge.

Gusteau frowned. It was either an accident or an ill-timed blockage for them. Gusteau left Ana behind and picked up his pace to get a better look.

He urged himself not to run and settled on a half-walk half-run lunging motion.  Hoden and Xolrun waited for him and waved as he got closer.

Gusteau watched the bridge and found a group of people standing around the cart patiently. The cart looked like it was in good condition from where he was. Its wheels were good and it looked like they had stopped on the bridge rather than crashed into it. A group of about ten or so milled around casually with some even sitting on top of the crates that were loaded on the cart.

Of course, Gusteau and his party would get stopped not a day away from being home. Of course, they would stumble upon Gods-spurned bandits. Gusteau tutted to himself.

The bridge itself was nothing exceptional; it was a small wooden bridge with solid railings to its sides. The cart looked like the standard merchant style, but the horses were nowhere to be seen.

“Any idea what it is?” Gusteau asked Xolrun and Hoden in a low voice.

“Not sure, thought it was better to wait for you, “ Hoden shrugged.

They were a good thirty metres out and it looked like an organised chaos up ahead. The closer he got, the idea of it being an accident became increasingly unlikely. On the wagon, the crates were stacked up three or so high with another few crates that sat open on the bridge itself. Gusteau counted four humans with short bows on the wagon and more than five other humans and then two oruks on the bridge, guarding the small gap that people could pass through. They had set up a variety of chairs and seemed completely disinterested in Gusteau and the rest of his party who now stood and quite openly stared at them.

They didn’t seem like any respectable soldiers from the army, nor House guards. They looked haphazard and poorly armed.

“Well, shall we go for a talk?” Gusteau offered lightly.

“I don’t see much other choice really,” Hoden replied.

“Would just say, Gust, us down here and them up there,” Xolrun warned.

Gusteau scrunched his face. She was right.

The bridge itself put them at a considerable disadvantage. The bandits on the cart had now stood up and there were more appearing from behind the cart. Gusteau’s count now went up to fifteen with three hefty looking oruks and the rest of them human. One of the humans waved at him and beckoned him forward.

Seeing no reason not to chat, Gusteau moved to close the distance. Without a word, Hoden and Ana dropped to his left side and Khlen and Xolrun dropped to his right. Just like they had practised, they fanned out slightly and approached silently.

The lady who waved at him grinned as he approached, “Good afternoon!”

“Was there an accident?” Gusteau probed.

The lady grinned sourly, “My name is Filette and the wagon is just to make sure we make our position clear. Everyone has to pay their taxes.” Filette looked the part for a bandit. She had all of the confidence of a schoolyard bully and thought she was untouchable because she could fleece peasants in the ass-end of nowhere.

“Oh, who would want to avoid a House-appointed official? It would be shameful not to pay your way.” Gusteau agreed innocuously.

“It is wonderful to meet someone so agreeable. What was your name?” Filette enquired.

“Gusteau Vent.” he answered. No real sense in not telling her. So far down south and clearly not military, she wouldn’t know his name anyway.

“Gusteau Vent?” She asked inquisitively, clearly curious. Shit.

Gusteau tried to hide the apprehension he felt. That annoying little voice of paranoia quietly chided him for thinking that he could imagine that he would ever get away from his reputation.

“Quite a lofty name your parents gave you.” She cackled.

Gusteau forced himself not to roll his eyes. Oh good, she was just an asshole.

Gusteau let out a half-hearted chuckle and replied flatly, “Ah, very funny. So what are these taxes you are here to collect?” It was time to get to business.

Their party had a good forty five silver to their name in joint funds but Gusteau hated to see any of it go to bandits. Gusteau supposed that the price of five silver would be worth not having to deal with the hassle. Then, they could get home, re-equip, and come back.

“As part of the bridge maintenance program on behalf of the House Courfeld, we have been contracted to charge three silver for each human, six for the oruk crossing and seven silver for any carts, wagons, or horses.” Filette read off a piece of tattered, yellow parchment. It was a nice little prop but there was no way she could read.

Filette stroked her chin playfully, “So, that would run your tab up to oooh, twenty five silver but,” she paused for dramatic effect, “I would settle with you for twenty silver because you are such a gentleman.”

The idea of spending twenty silver to cross a bridge made Gusteau feel physically ill. Twenty silver was, well, highway robbery.

He scanned the bridge one more time. There were still fifteen of them that he could see. Fifteen was a three to one ratio which was never good, even if they quite clearly outclassed them. And being out in the open in front of a bridge also tipped the scales against them even more.

Gusteau put his finger up and turned his back on Filette.

“Anyone have any ideas?” Gusteau whispered to the others in the group.

“No other bridges for at least ten kilometres.” Hoden mentioned unhelpfully.

“Shit, ok. I would rather we don’t have to detour so much. I think Paul only has about a day of charge on him at a guess.” Gusteau frowned at the collective groan of his party.

Paul was a project that Gusteau was tinkering with at the moment much to the disdain of those around him. Paul was an automatic pulling machine that was essentially a small bijou-ran engine with a giant wheel and balancing device. It was currently attached to their cart that was pulling the cage. Poor Paul was under constant scrutiny by Gusteau’s friends despite doing some serious heavy lifting.

“But I have a feeling I’ve heard of a fishing village not far off from here. I’d wager if they fish, they’d have some boats we could borrow?” Hoden suggested with a shrug.

Gusteau clapped his hands loudly, “Hey, see that’s a good idea! Are we all happy to get a boat?” Around the group, no one showed any particular reaction, neither positive nor negative. It was good enough for Gusteau.

“Ok, so we back up, and we try to get to the trees over there. No one goes fast unless I say. If we get to the trees before they come, we’re good. But if they come after us, I’d bet we are faster than them if it comes to a footrace, yeah?” Gusteau could see the scepticism but decided to ignore it for the good of the party.

Gusteau turned back around with a flourish and a slight wince from his back pain.

“Filette, it was lovely to meet you and I am so glad that you are here making sure the will of one of the good House, whichever you said, is being upheld.” Gusteau tried to think if he’d missed anything. He checked with the others but none of them gave any input.

“Anywho, we had best be off.” Gusteau pivoted immediately and started to walk, “Go go go go.”

“Hey! You need to pay!” Filette called out to him angrily.

Gusteau looked over his shoulder at her on the bridge and she was still a good forty metres out from him.

“Oh us? No, we wanted to come and help with your stuck wagon, we’ve no need to cross, thank you so much,” Gusteau replied nonchalantly as he hurried away.

Fifty metres: it was still not a bad shot from a short bow at this range but there was no movement from the bridge. Gusteau tried to balance the fine line of casually watching Filette to see what she did next while keeping up to speed with the others.

She’d turned her back to them and an intense discussion unfolded on the bridge. Gusteau let out a breath, an intense discussion way over there was fine by him.

Eighty metres and they’d come to the intersection where the main road met a small trail and the bandits stood at the beginning of the bridge, watching them menacingly.

“You think this is the path, Hoden?” Gusteau asked optimistically.

“I’ve not the faintest, to be honest, but I vote we take it at least to the trees.” Hoden replied without taking his eyes off the bridge.

Gusteau couldn’t agree more and turned onto the smaller trail with one last wave back to Filette.