Chapter 6 (Part III): The Fair Affair

The fair's beer garden was in a nicely shaded area near the woods. Every slight breeze gently rattled the branches and leaves nearby, and birds flitted about in the thick undergrowth, serenading one another. It was a nice place to relax, talk, and cool off, though after the games and dancing, Kaira had ended up downing more water than beer. 
Rehydrated, Kaira showed off some bar tricks she’d learned in Kingstown that involved stacking spoons and glasses, while Thrakaduhl made a point of talking with everyone there; his gentle but hardy manner, paired with his sharp memory for names and stories, charmed almost everyone.

Kaira herself was laughing at one of his stories – something about dressing up a big lizard as a dog – when a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Kaira? Kaira?” a man slipped over next to her and tugged her sleeve.

“Jon?!” She immediately recognized the lycanthrope they’d met outside Rosebud, “Oh my gods,” she said in a whisper, “We thought you were dead!”

“Fortunately not,” he said, “She burned everything. The dragon, she razed our fields, our livestock, even our homes.”

“How’d you escape?”

“She came from upwind,” he said, “we smelled the brimstone and heard her wings from a mile away; just enough time for most of us to scramble out of our homes.”

“Most?” Kaira asked, but she didn’t pry for numbers, “Where’s Regina?” she asked about Jon’s wife.

“She got out, but she’s in trouble. I need help. Please. I know the last time we met…”

“I know,” Kaira said as she got up and led him away from the crowd, “I remember what you did, but I also beat you up a bit and stabbed your wife in the course of it, so let’s call us square now. Just tell me what’s wrong."

“There were people waiting when we fled our homes,” Jon said, “The dragon’s attack wasn’t spontaneous; she flushed us out of our homes into the woods, but it was a trap. Men were waiting in the forest. They had snares and caltrops and nets… They took a bunch of us. Mostly pups. Regina was still nursing that wound, so she couldn’t fight them off. I got caught in a bear trap,” he showed Kaira a nasty scar on his leg, “and couldn’t catch up to them.”

“But you followed them here?”

“Only Regina,” Jon said, “The men who attacked us split up. The pups were hauled off northwest but Regina was taken this way. Everyone else that escaped went after their children, so that just left me to track her down alone.”

Jon and Regina's community had tried to scam them before, but Jon himself had proven to be a bad liar and what little Kaira had interacted with them was enough for her to be certain this wasn’t the sort of stunt they’d pull if they were running another job.

“Have you made contact?”

“No,” Jon said, “I found my way here two days ago, managed to navigate the smells, and yesterday I worked out she’s being held on the Kerwyns’ property just south of here. I prowled around a bit last night, and I think she’s being held in a barn or a shed, but the place is heavily guarded.”

“How many?”

“At any given time, two guards at the building, two more on patrol, and two more at the house nearby, close enough to be in earshot. They’ve got dogs too, and they’ve been trained to fight; not the sort I can reason with.”

Jon could take almost any single human guard by himself – Kaira knew from personal experience that the short man’s alternate form was formidable in a fight – but the man had no training, and his only weapons were the natural fangs and claws of a large dog. There was no way he could handle those men on his own.

Jon looked past Kaira and started growling. She turned and saw a broad chested, finely dressed man had come in to the beer garden and started talking to Thrakaduhl. Everyone backed off, deferring to the man, except Thrakaduhl who remained seated, calmly sipping his beer.

“I understand you’ve made quite the impression round here,” the man said, offering his hand, “I’m Lionel, Lionel Kerwyn. Though my friends call me Leo and the ladies just call my name.”

The orc ignored the offered handshake, but introduced himself, “I am Thrakaduhl da Tharka, son of Tharkrada, the late chieftain of clan Dhaka.”

“Ah, so you are,” Lionel said, withdrawing his hand and placing it on the head of the ornate cane he carried, “Word is you killed your father.”

“No,” Thrakaduhl said, “she did.” He motioned to Kaira, “Kairumina Doro Asterigennithika challenged him in one on one combat, per the traditions of our people, and defeated him in an honorable fight to the death.”

“Well, that’s an unusual thing to do in this day and age. Most would call that murder.”

“You might. I’d call it justice. My father was terrorizing the good people of Defiance. Takin’ their belongings and threatenin’ their women. Lady Asterigennithika and I, neither of us takes too well to that sort of petty despotism. Or any despotism, really. So yes, I'd call it justice to remove a tyrant from power, but I reckon you would call it murder, wouldn’t you?”

The gathered crowd was dead silent.

“Are you suggesting something son?” Lionel asked.

“I hear tell you ain’t been too good to the people you were elected to look after here. In fact, I hear tell maybe you ain’t been elected at all.”

“I think maybe you ought to leave,” Lionel said, “Gerault doesn’t need any trouble from orcs that still practice the barbarism of their ancestors.”

“I think maybe I’d like to see you make us leave,” Thrakaduhl said, putting down his mug.

“You think I won’t?”

“No. I think you’ll wait until there’re fewer people looking. Or maybe when you’ve got more than…” Thrakaduhl pointed out a few glowering men in the crowd, “Three of your henchmen to back you up?”

With a sudden blur of movement, Lionel popped the end of his cane free, drew a sharp, lightweight sword from it, and swung it at Thrakaduhl’s throat. Thrakaduhl raised his right arm to block, which stopped the blade, but given his arm was completely naked, the blade cut deep into his forearm. Lionel drew the blade back and thrusted, but Thrakaduhl rolled his chair backwards and kicked the table in front of him up, stopping the blade. The orc landed on his feet and stood up. Kaira started to move in, but Thrakaduhl looked at the deep bleeding cut on his arm as if it were a scratch, and motioned for her to stand down.

“I’ll admit,” Thrakaduhl said, “I didn’t take you for a man that’d ever done his own work. But are you so ready to fight a man on his feet?

Lionel looked tempted. He wasn’t the sort of coward Kaira had assumed; the man might not have honor, but he had an ego, and he was willing to fight for that. Caution seemed to finally overtake him though; he backed down and left with his men. The gathered crowd let out a collective sigh of relief, and people began patting Thrakaduhl on the shoulder while one of the women looked at his wound. Kaira helped set the table back down and urged Jon to join them as people began spilling out their stories.

Lionel was worse than they’d imagined. Apparently the Kerwyn’s handled women about the same way they did horses. The sheriff, of course, had the authority to make marriages, and Lionel’s father had taken that a bit past the extreme.”

“Forced marriages?”

“Among other things,” the woman tending to Thrakaduhl’s arm said, “Lionel’s father also unofficially instituted prima nocta, and there’s some rumors that Lionel, being a bit more ambitious than his pa, has been engaged in a sort of ‘match-making’ service I would generally call human trafficking.”

Jon now became distraught, and told the people he’d come here on the trail of his kidnapped wife. The people nodded sadly. Lionel didn’t traffic away the local women, but a lot of people suspected his horse trading was a cover for moving women through his property from one place to another. One person even mentioned that Lionel had done business with Brogan, the kidnapper Kaira had killed at the beginning of the summer.

Though Thrakaduhl’s tone was as cavalier as ever, the tension at the corners of his eyes and mouth, the slight flare of his nostrils, showed that he felt as angry about it as Kaira.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Kaira asked, “If Jon’s right, if Lionel can manage six guards round the clock on his own property, then he must have more mercenaries than we thought.”

“Plus his own brothers and cousins,” Thrakaduhl said, reflecting on the information the fair attendees had provided, “that’s another dozen men. Presumably armed with more than farm implements. And Lionel’s not going to be useless in a fight.”

“How much does Lionel value his horses?” Kaira asked the people.

The general consensus was quite a lot, “The Kerwyns treat them better than their own wives,” one man said. Another suggested they’d bedded the horses, but Kaira hoped that was an exaggeration.

“Are you still thinking about stealing them?” Thrakaduhl said, “Seems petty at this point.”

“Lionel’s petty. The women might be on his property, but the horses are here at the fair, right?”

“They will be tonight,” one of the older men said, “Tonight’s the big race. He won’t dare cancel it, and he won’t dare withdraw. It’d be humiliating for him.”

“So how much of his security force will he dedicate to protecting his horses?” Kaira asked.

“And himself,” Jon said, “He’ll be here too, and I imagine he values his life as much as anything.”

“His men will be divided three ways,” Thrakaduhl smiled at Kaira's shrewd logic, “I don’t reckon there’ll ever be a better opportunity to take care of him than now.”