The duelist 3, p.7
The Duelist 3, page 7
Many spectators jeered and booed, and some even threw things toward the arena.
“Not a popular one, I see,” the auctioneer chortled through his puckered mouth spout. “We’ll start the bidding at five-hundred coins.”
There was some awkward muttering among the crowd, but no one moved to raise their horn.
“No one?” the auctioneer said. “How about four-hundred?”
Scattered snickering could be heard in the stands, but still no one made an offer.
“Do you think you’ve let her squirm enough, husband?” Shay asked me with a small smirk.
“Oh, I suppose,” I said with a mock-bored eye roll, and I flashed my herald trumpet at the fly-man. “Four-hundred!”
“We have four-hundred, do I hear four-fifty?” The auctioneer swiveled his bloated head around the silent arena. “If there are no other bids, Lot Twenty-Three goes to--”
“Fifty-thousand for the Lot,” a voice like old leather said, and the entire hall crashed into silence.
Who.
The.
Fuck.
Why were these things never simple?
Chapter 5
“Fifty-thousand from the man wearing the elaborate head ensemble!” the fly-man bellowed, and the crowd hooted and hollered as if their favorite soap opera just dropped a major plot twist.
I, for one, just glared at the man next to me in the weird lion-like headpiece and watched his lower mouth as it stretched wide into a toothy grin.
“Fifty-five,” I said and raised my horn.
“Fifty-five, do I hear sixty?” the auctioneer rattled off.
“Sixty,” the man grunted.
“Sixty-five,” I said.
“Eighty,” my opponent said casually.
“Alex,” Shay murmured as she tugged my arm. “Are you sure Vel-Rala is worth it?”
I glanced at the dejected cockatoo-woman who stood hunched and diminished on the dais.
She really was quite pitiful, and part of me did feel sorry for her, but I was also a firm believer in reaping what you sow, and according to a lot of people, she had been needing some well-deserved karma.
However, all of the veiled comments and allusions of how terrible the Traders were played in my head, especially when I glanced at Zoie.
No one deserved that fate, she had said.
But I could foresee how this bidding thing was soon going to get out of hand due to the mystery bidder who apparently only existed to Fuck With Alex.
It was time to squash this, and I knew just how to fuck this guy back.
When I was resting up from my injuries after the Duel with Doler, Jenner dropped off a stack of books about Aventoll to help me pass the time. One of them had an illuminating chapter on Trader Auctions, and if I played my cards right, I just might be able to walk away with a full hand.
Oh, this was devious, and I had to work hard not to outwardly grin with glee.
“One-hundred-thousand,” I said, and the already riled crowd ratcheted up their drunken hollering.
“A mighty bid from the Asher in the painted mask!” the fly-auctioneer said and held up three of his four arms while the other maintained its grip on the podium.
“Two-hundred,” the mysterious bidder said, and the crowd lost their minds.
“Alex…” Shay said again, but when I glanced at Zoie, her expression told me she was with me no matter what, and it gave me the courage to do what came next.
“You’re just going to have to trust me, sweetheart,” I told my phoenix-wife and kissed her on the head. Then I stood up and raised my horn high. “I put my estate up for auction in place of Lot Twenty-Three.”
“The Asher in the painted mask has offered up the considerable parcel of his property in place of a bid,” the fly-man buzzed through his crooked mouth-nozzle as he stroked his chin. “Something that hasn’t been done for quite a long time, but I will allow it. What say you, challenger?”
The man in the headdress considered this as he rose to his feet as well.
“Since I am the only other bidder, I will accept the replacement of this Asher’s estate for two-hundred thousand, and relinquish my bid on Lot Twenty-Three,” the man said, and I struggled not to grin outwardly at the trap I successfully laid.
Maybe I did have a penchant for mental chess after all, and if this worked out the way I hoped, I would have to tell Jenner all about it.
“Sold in exchange!” the fly-auctioneer shouted and with that, the bidding war was over.
I then turned to the man next to me to at least settle up with the guy who seemed to just want to out-bid me for the hell of it, but he had already made his exit, apparently, because he was nowhere to be seen.
“He must have had other things he needed to try and steal from people,” I idly joked, but then my grin fell when I noticed the wide-eyed expressions on both my wives’ faces. “What?”
“Alex, you… you exchanged one of our estates for Vel-Rala,” Shay said with a slightly crestfallen slope to her shoulders.
“I did,” I said and dotted her nose. “But I didn’t specify which one. The way I figure it, if we can do what Jenner said and just bring him and Tovish in to check out your father’s library, that jerk can have the place. And look, we didn’t even need to spend any gold. Everyone wins.”
“Oh, Alex, you are a clever one!” Shay said with a delighted gasp. “This plays well in our favor because in the event the Council does rule your victory was invalid, we still walk away with a full hand.”
“This also gives us a tactical advantage,” Zoie weighed in. “Property is public record, so eventually we will be able to know who it was who wanted Vel-Rala so badly. That way, we will know a potential enemy before he greets us in the dark.”
“How did you know the exchange would work?” my phoenix-wife asked me.
“You didn’t expect me to spend all that time on bed-rest doing nothing, did you?” I asked. “I read up on how these Trader Auctions worked.”
“You were only on bed rest for a day,” she said.
“It was a very long and boring day,” I said with a grin, and Shay burst out into her delighted laughter. I then leaned forward a little to catch Zoie’s eye. “Do you really think that man is our enemy?”
“He was not interested in bidding until you bid on Vel-Rala,” Zoie pointed out. “You saw how unpopular she was until you bid on her. Why would he go for her when it was clear she was nobody’s first choice but yours?”
“No one would take a bid from four-hundred up to two-hundred-thousand unless they were making a point,” Shay added as she tapped a finger against her chin.
“So, I’ve got another potential target on my back,” I chuckled. “Business as usual, but I got to kick him in the balls first, so I’ll fucking take it.”
“Your outrageous reputation is about to increase,” Shay laughed as she looped an arm through both of ours, and the three of us watched the rest of the auctions as we nibbled on the remaining food and wine.
Finally, the last lot, who sadly went without a bidder, was returned to where the rest were being held, and those whose bids were successful were ordered to settle up with the auctioneer.
“I’ll meet you outside with Vel-Rala, and then we can go,” I told Shay and Zoie.
“We’ll be ready with the carriage,” Zoie affirmed, and then we went our separate ways, the girls back through the massive double doors, and me down to the arena where the other Duelists were waiting patiently in a line based on the number of their winning lots.
“Have your horns ready!” the fly-auctioneer barked.
This must have been another section of the auction stuff I skipped, but by watching the others in line, it seemed pretty basic.
The fly-man started out by applying a liberal coat of slimy black mucus from his gross mouth thing all over one of its two-fingered hands, and in his other hand, the auctioneer held something like a ledger. When he approached a Duelist, he offered his spit-covered hand like an ink pad for the Duelist to press the curve of their horn against. When the horn was ‘inked,’ the Duelist would then stamp an impression of the unique carvings of their personal herald trumpet like a signature.
Simple enough.
“Ah, lot Twenty-Three,” the auctioneer said as he hovered closer. The odor of the fly-man was as much as could be expected, and I fought to control my gag reflex as the smell of Literal Ass Crack wafted over me. “You’re the one with the Exchange! Now don’t worry about the horn, just ink the seal of the estate you wish to part with right here.”
What’s all this now?
Shitfuck.
I vaguely recalled something about how not only did I need to think up names for the estates I owned, but I also needed to design some seals. Maybe I could get Zoie to draw some up now that she had shown her hidden talent, but that would have to be for later. For now, I would just have to wing it and do something basic.
“Right, you gotta pen?” I asked.
“A what-now?” the auctioneer buzzed and glared at me with his multi-directional eyes.
“Never mind,” I grumbled and basically high-fived the guy with my thumb right on his slimy palm. Then I pressed my thumb three times into the blank space next to the words ‘Lot Twenty-Three’ until I made a sort of greasy shamrock shape. “There.”
“Hmm, quite plain,” the auctioneer said as he swiveled his bulbous eyes. “Seems fake.”
Double shitfuck.
Technically, I didn’t actually own Doler’s ex-estate yet because of all the Council red-tape, so nothing about this was actually official, which was kind of the point. However, before I could try to think of something on the fly, the auctioneer just grunted and shrugged his shoulders.
“Eh, the one who took your exchange already settled on his way out, so it be no bother,” he buzzed. “Besides, you’ll be doing me a favor by taking the bitch off me hands. Impossible, she is.”
Oh, goodie.
“Sure thing,” I said. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
“Collect your lot at the door on your way out,” he said before he dug around in the pouch around his bloated waist and handed me a wooden chip with a symbol on it.
I was happy to leave, especially for the chance to take a deep breath of fresh air that didn’t smell like soggy crotch cakes or something equally vomitous.
At that moment, I was supremely glad for every housefly I’d ever swatted because Christ-on-a-crutch that was foul.
Just outside the doors of the arena was a wasp-man towing a disgruntled Vel-Rala by the leash hooked to the collar around her neck.
“C’mon, Twenty-Three,” the man barked out and yanked her toward me.
I gave him my wooden chip, and in exchange, he handed me the leather cord.
The once-proud bird-woman now shuffled a half-step behind me as I led us out into the cool air to wait for our carriage.
“I thought you weren’t going to show,” she finally murmured.
“I almost didn’t,” I said plainly, which caused her to slow until I was forced to stop altogether if I didn’t want to yank her. “Does that actually surprise you?”
“No,” she admitted. “Well, not at first, but I was a little surprised you paid so much for me when another gentleman could have claimed me from the Traders. After all, my only request was to not have to return to their Colonies. You didn’t have to give up so much.”
“Trust me, I didn’t,” I said and unclipped the stupid leash so I could throw it away. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t own you. You could run off right now, and I wouldn’t even stop you. But if you want to stay with me and mine, you’ll earn your way, and at least respect everyone who works for me if you can’t learn to like them. If you can do those things, then you can stay. If not, well, I hope you have a backup plan, but since I’m here in the first place, I’m thinking not.”
The cockatoo-woman hung her head but nodded in the end.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and my eyebrows actually flew upward at the genuine humility I heard in her voice.
“Don’t thank me, just be better starting now,” I said as the familiar sight of Prosper pulling our carriage came into view.
“Any trouble?” Zoie asked and jumped down from the driver’s seat. She eyed the cockatoo-woman up and down with a frown.
“Nope,” I said. “Everything’s golden, let’s get out of here.”
“Wait,” she said as she untied the shawl-like scarf from around her shoulders and held it out to Vel-Rala. “Put this on, it is getting cooler these days. I’m sure we have something that will fit you when we get back to Ithaca Estates.”
“Speaking of estate stuff, I realized almost too late that I need to come up with seals for Ithaca and Icarian,” I said as I opened the door for the cockatoo-woman.
“Zoie should design them!” Shay gasped as she poked her head out of the carriage window.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said as I helped my blushing cat-wife up to the coach seat again and then climbed up after her so I could drive. I nickered to my pal, Prosper, and sent him the image of Ithaca’s barn and of the pretty little white and gray canterfilly waiting for him. “Home, boy.”
The majestic butterfly-pegasus stretched his stunning black and orange monarch wings before he tucked them in again, gave a whistle through his coiled muzzle, and set off to the north.
“That was a nice thing you did back there for Vel-Rala,” I said to Zoie a bit later. “But what about you? I’m sure I could steal back my cape from Shay for you if you’re cold.”
“Do not bother,” Zoie said. “Vartha has a harsh climate, so I don’t mind a little chill, besides, I do not believe Shay will part with it so willingly.”
“She does seem a little attached,” I chuckled as I guided the carriage along the forest path.
“Besides, if I get cold, I’ll just steal your body heat,” she purred playfully and sidled closer.
“That’s allowed,” I conceded and wrapped an arm around her. “I was serious about the sigil thing, by the way. I know you think we’re teasing, but you’re amazing.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” she said and snuggled closer.
We were about halfway home when the world around us suddenly grew deathly quiet, and the familiar forest road that usually seemed so provincial and friendly took on an ominous feeling even Prosper picked up on.
The canterfly’s steps became hunted and timid, and his horse-ears swiveled around as his antennae quivered and trembled.
“What is it, boy?” I asked when he came to a standstill.
“Something has him spooked,” Zoie said as she sat up straight, and from a concealed holster somewhere up her skirt, she pulled out a long, curved dagger.
I followed suit and drew my own blade.
“Maybe there is something up ahead,” I said as I climbed down.
“Everything alright?” Shay asked as her and Vel-Rala’s faces appeared in the window.
“We are scouting up ahead,” Zoie said as she flipped her dagger around so she was holding it inverted. The motion made Vel-Rala squeak out a surprised noise, which was immediately hushed by Zoie with a hiss.
“Stay with the carriage, Zo,” I said, and she nodded her understanding.
Then I tossed my sword to my left hand so I could shake out my right, flexed my fingers a few times to dispel the dull pins and needles, and marched forward to investigate.
“Hee-oo,” Prosper whistled and skittishly stamped three of his six hooves.
“What’s wrong, fella?” I asked as I patted his flank. The canterfly’s eyes darted around the clearing, and I tried to peer into the darkness even harder, but nothing stirred. If it weren’t for the hair standing up on the back of my neck, I would have claimed Prosper was just being a big chicken.
I took about two steps before a deep droning howl vibrated up from the very ground as if I was standing on top of the San Andreas fault line, and the moon suddenly turned a sickening red.
The Demon Scourge.
I spun around as another subterranean bellow shook the earth, and my eyes locked with Zoie’s.
“Get on board!” I hollered and sheathed my blade so I could clamber up into the driver’s seat as well. “Prosper, go!”
The canterfly whinnied and thrashed his front two legs before he took off at a gallop down the road.
Distantly, the sound of a trumpet rang out in the muted red air, but I didn’t have time to wonder about the odd sound when growling and slavering could also be heard tearing through the trees beside us.
“Faster, Props!” I yelled as we rounded a corner.
“Alex, demons!” Zoie shouted and threw one of her shuriken blades into the darkness.
A growling shriek sounded from the brush as she hit her target, and for a few moments the sound of our pursuers fell back.
“Good shot, Zoie!” I cheered, but then I had to grip the reins again as the carriage thumped over a fallen tree trunk. “Shit!”
The carriage came down with an almighty crack, and I knew we were in trouble when the whole thing listed to the side and forced us to stop.
“Broken axle!” Zoie leaped off the carriage so she could be ready to defend us from any of the nightmares that might catch up with us while I tended to a spooked Prosper.
“Woah, steady, boy!” I said with both hands palms up to try and calm him down. A panicked image of being trapped in his bridle flashed in my mind, and I understood what he needed.
Since one of the carriage’s axles was snapped in half, there was no point in keeping him strapped in, so I undid his harness.
“How is everybody?” I asked as I jogged back to the cabin.
“The-the-the Moon!” Vel-Rala screeched.
“Quiet, you!” Shay said as she climbed out of the cab and pulled out her rock sling.
“Shelter!” the cockatoo-woman squawked again. “I have to get inside!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we all have to get inside,” I growled as I pulled my sword again.
That ringing trumpeting ripped through the stagnant air again, and I looked down at the brass horn against my hip when I finally recognized what was making that sound.
“It’s the Herald Hunt,” I said as I looked up at the red half-moon. “Someone must have blown their horn where a herald demon was nearby.”
