BECMI Chapter 170 – The Bridge is no Trouble

“I, I, yes, they do, Lieutenant, sir!” the work boss Pedro answered warily, but honestly.“Excellent. The fastest way for you to get home is to keep working.” The crew boss blinked, as did his workers, and the Colorajo cavalry there. “If you are quick about it, it looks like it will take you about twenty minutes before there are no more soldiers to keep you here. Then you can take their horses, pile onto your wagons, and take a rough trip home on what they call a road over there.” He lifted his eyes to the soldiers of Colorajo standing back, who all blanched and paled and retreated from the edge of the bridge and new trade road promptly.

“Or they can simply back off, let you get back on that wagon after paying you, and head on home,” the Sidhe elf added idly.

Lieutenant Earmithil gave all the workers another knowing once-over, and then calmly turned his steed around and rode leisurely back to the rest of us.

The headman watched him go, and then slowly turned around to regard the soldiers behind him.

A cunning light came into his eyes. Without taking his eyes from the soldiers, he said, “All right, boys. We’ve still got our orders. Let’s get back to work!” he called out.

Smiles broke out among the conscripted men, and picks were hefted in anticipation.

“Wait! Wait!” the aide to the lieutenant squeaked out desperately. “Put your picks down! Down!”

The men obliged by dropping them on the stones loudly, the tinkle and clatter of metal pick-heads sounding a clear ending to the work that was going to be done.

“Now, then, the matter of blocking a caravan outside of your territory, and the laws of Zanzyr. I believe that qualifies as banditry, or brigandry if any threat against life or limb takes place.” This time when Lieutenant Earmithil spoke up, his voice was strong and clear. “And bandits in Zorozoan livery are an insult to the name and honor of the Zorozo, and will be cleaned up and dispatched forthwith, fed to the river, and their belongings taken and sold off at auction, as is appropriate for such scum.”

The aide, also a flamenco elf, puffed out his cheeks for just a moment in defiance, and wilted as the steel-eyed Sidhe elf stared right back, the lieutenant slowly moving his hand to the ornate longsword at his side.

“Withdraw!” the Zorozo officer ordered the cavalry troop loudly, waving his cavalry saber, an order which the soldiers immediately and gratefully followed. Adept riders turned their mounts around, and hoofed it off the diversion to the Federyn trade road entirely.

The crew boss gave a thumbs-up to us behind his back as he waved his crew of laborers away from the bridge and towards the wagons that had brought them out here, taking their picks along with them and leaving the rather garishly dark stone in place on the white of the bridge and its landing.

“Master merchant!” Lieutenant Earmithil called out formally to the Federyn trader, his face still unmoved and his voice as dry as before. “I believe the obstruction to your passage has been removed. You may advance on to the bridge and trade road to Launcel and Erendyl, if you choose, or you may take that broken excuse for a trail over there, and enjoy its rattling accompaniment, ruts, and potholes for the next twenty miles before you reach Tantrin.”

The rather portly Federyn merchant, who had emerged from his carriage to watch the show, only smiled at the byplay. “I think I’ll be seeing where this new fair road goes, and how much relief my posterior will glean from it!” His eyes darted about shrewdly. “Is there a toll for taking such a fine construction?” he asked uneasily.

“A silver a wagon and a being or beast, paid at the gates of Launcel, and used expressly for maintenance and upgrading of the trade road to here. If enough of an excess accumulates, the Princess Belle has indicated she might consider extending the road further south for the comfort of the merchants of Federyn.”

The merchant looked at the road ahead, and then the fairly crude stone trail, rutted and pocked and abused by harsh Bleakland weather, which stretched out behind him, marked by rows from wagon wheels grinding against unforgiving stone. “I believe that the Merchant’s Guild of Federyn might be willing to pay a considerable sum to extend such a fine road south, sir!” he called out eagerly.

“Then bring up such matters upon your return to your homeland, Master Merchant. Such things are beyond my pay grade,” the lieutenant replied without batting an eye.

In a matter of minutes, the train of about thirty wagons and carriages was up and moving, the rough and jerky motion notably stabilizing and becoming quite smooth as the loads of goods and supplies pulled onto the road, the animals noticeably perking up as much of the effort of drawing the load was ameliorated by the smoother ground and much shallower slope.

The Colorajo just fumed as they watched the merchants pass, while the wagons carrying the work crew paused, and then the work boss hurried over, threading his way between loaded wagons to Lieutenant Earmithil.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Lieutenant, officer, sir,” the low-born man asked, his wide hat in his hands and his expression earnest. “Do you think it might be possible for us to take your fine road here back north, and then walk across the river-gates to Tantrin? The wagons are… not ours,” he grinned widely.

Earmithil didn’t bat an eye. “Of course you may use the road, but you’d have to pay the gate tax to enter Launcel. However, there is no toll to use the gate arches as I recall, and I believe you can circle around the city and access the base of the tower there as freely as was done in the past, if you’re carrying no goods for trade the Zorozo might want to throw a tariff on. Just park the wagons off to the side and notify the Zorozo they are waiting. If they choose not to collect them, we’ll certainly be able to sell them and the draft horses off, I imagine,” he finished dryly.

The laborer clenched his fist. “Thank you, officer, sir!” he bobbed his head, and then lifted his hat and waved it at the three wagons with his crew. They all whooped and shouted, reins snapped, and the three wagons with men, equipment, and supplies in the back quickly pulled out after the last of the merchant wagons, following them off the rutty stone trail onto the smooth road with proper enthusiasm.

“Minuth, Brandish. Serve as tour guides and explain some of the design and history of the road as you accompany them all back,” the lieutenant ordered two of his human soldiers, who turned smartly around to accompany the cavern. “The rest of us, if the fellows over there choose to stick around, we’ll be making camp at the site on the far side at the proper place.” Such place being a well-constructed and easily defensible watchpost fully able to shelter a couple cavalry patrols.

Making a road meant watching over those who would use it, as well as guarding against those who would misuse it, especially raiding nifloids or opportunistic monsters. They might also have to ride to the relief of a caravan that was under attack, especially if signaled.

The two soldiers turned their horses and headed back to escort the merchants. There should be very little danger, and it would mostly be friendly color commentary… but that was what was most needed, so the merchants would find the ride safe and want to take the route, pay the tolls, and bring their business to Erendyl in the future, as well as talk about it to their friends.

“Well done, Lieutenant Earmithil,” I complimented him. “You handled that most diplomatically.” I turned an eye as the aide to the officer who was now a stone bandage rode up, his face determined and angry to hide his real fear.

“You will restore Colorajo’s soldiers!” he demanded of Lieutenant Earmithil, his voice cracking just a little bit at the end. “Remove them from the bridge and restore their forms, or there will be consequences Erendyl is not willing to pay!” he promised grandly, his saber sweeping back and forth in a manner that looked far more like losing control than threatening.

“If you think I designed the defenses of this bridge or that I control them, Eberfond, you are even more of a fool than you look like right now,” Earmithil replied with a stolid, weary patience for fools, not even having his hand on his sword in return. “I don’t even know how that might happen…”

“A spell to swap the rock of their bodies out with a suitable replacement and return them to merely petrified status, than a standard to bring them back to the living,” I supplied coldly to both of them. The lascivious eyes the darker elf had been sending my way frizzled swiftly at my cold Transyvian accent. “I’m certain Lady Belle could spend such a , for normal compensation. In the interim, why don’t you enjoy being in command, Lieutenant?”

He blinked, his mouth working, realizing he did indeed have effective command, and a promotion was all but a certain thing.

“Make sure you get some good sergeants, with more brains than brawn. I think it will be more useful to you on the trail now, Eberfond,” Earmithil said with laconic ease, clearly unworried about any threat from the smaller dark elf, the men of whom were normally several inches shorter than their Sidhe counterparts, much to their displeasure and a source of much of their famous tempers from mockery overt and covert. “Go on. It’s all over now, and you’ve some reports to write, just like I do.”

Grumbling under his breath about Sidhe elves and their demonic magic, the Zorozo elf in charge headed back to his men, raising his voice in appropriate curses he thought might make him sound more impressive or fearsome, and really just made him look rather desperate.

“Well, I pity the captain who has to promote him,” I noted as the patrol from Colorajo finally turned about and rode away, attempting to make a show of fine riding at the very least.

“Damn, that is a whole bunch o’ poseurs, m’Lady Edge,” the Mick remarked, making a show of putting his father’s Claymore back in its scabbard as everyone watched the Colorajo patrol ride off in proper formation, like they were on parade.

“Parade riding is a key and notable skill among the riding patrols of the Colorajo, along with properly bright colored tassels and highly polished sabers,” Lieutenant Earmithil noted with a perfectly straight face, causing smiles to break out all around at the comment.

“We didn’t see them afoot, but I imagine those shiny spurs of theirs jingle and jangle with every step they take, too?” Messime spoke up with a sniff. Sidheduiche elves were all born to hunt, so those were just to her.

“Well, scouts should be heard and seen, the better to impress upon you their skill at making shows of force and how brave and suave they are,” Lieutenant Earmithil supplied dryly, earning more quiet chuckles from his men and my entourage. “Well, it seems I must be about my actual job now, Lady Edge, as opposed to watching poor humans get their superiors turned into masonry for entertainment. Off with you on your little adventure. Perhaps we’ll meet on your way back through.”

“Lieutenant,” I replied firmly, returning his casual wave, and promptly began moving forward, bringing the I was leading with me. Calls and waves were hesitantly offered, and I was pretty sure Messime was going to be looking up one of the elven soldiers on the way back. “We’ve a long distance to travel, but our goal is to make it out of the Bleaklands before evening! Sit back and keep your eyes sharp!” I told them off, prompting everyone to sit back down as I picked up speed, left the fine road where the Wynxias Bridge had crossed the waters, and turned onto the rough old trail labored over for so many years by Federyn merchants eager to make some coin.

The Bleaklands proper awaited!

Up above, totally unseen by anyone, Duum glided along with me, sufficiently far ahead and elevated to spot any real problems in plenty of time... Latest content published on NoveI-Fire.ɴet