Chapter 13: "The Rrolando Guild"

The town of Padtū had once been primarily a trading outpost, a gateway town situated just a few miles north of the Dumaz mountain pass. But ever since the genesis of Venators, it had become home to one of the more noteworthy Venator guilds: Rrolando.

Now, while Primordial Beasts were still common enough around the town, they were much less so than before. Living ones were, at least.

Dead Beasts on the other hand, or at least severed parts taken as a trophy, were increasingly regular sights. Of course, the official guild policy was that only extermination orders for dangerous, killer Beasts were to be taken. But those definitions grew flimsier with each passing day.

Caseus, Shawk and Arabella approached the Rrolando guild hall, weaving their way through the crowds that choked the streets. Psaltria had agreed it best to wait outside the city limits; if Bartimeus was making moves against her kind, against hadrosaurs, then she needed to stay out for now.

“Awfully crowded today, don't you think?” Caseus muttered as they came to the town square. “I don't remember any festival or public meeting planned.”

“Perhaps they are executing a prisoner?” Arabella asked. She pointed to a wooden platform assembled on the far side of the square, in front of the town ziggurat.

“No, that does not look like any gallows, and beheadings are usually done closer to the midden. A heap of heads in the dung heap and all that.”

The Rrolando guild hall was a large red clay building, with an ornate blue cloth tapestry serving as the door; gilded on the cloth in white and gold was a depiction of a Venator battling a Beast. In front of the hall, a hitching post and water trough had been constructed, used for the guild member horses, donkeys, and the few domesticated Beasts kept by members.

Shawk had grown accustomed to allowing himself to be hitched to the post, all as just a part of the act. He had not spoken a word to either of his human compatriots, lest they get careless and slip into conversation in public. Shamans may not be formally imprisoned or killed by law yet, but a paranoid, angry mob might just stone them all regardless.

So he settled for trying to make small-talk with whatever Beasts were attached to the post at the time.

“Pardon me,” he spoke to the only other Beast present, an ostrich-like Gallimimus, “but would you be able to inform me of what all the commotion is?”

***

If the Rrolando guild were any ordinary trade guild, or even a guild of standard hunters, it would seem perfectly idyllic, warm and welcoming. Members drank together, discussed jobs, and generally fraternized. And it was, to a degree. There was drinking, merrymaking and fraternizing. And yet, amidst the jokes, arguments and conversations, there was an undercurrent, a repeated sentiment.

“Gods, that styracosaur was quite the foul bitch to put down!”

“Some of the damn things still act as though they can speak!”

“When will the King or Queen do something about them?”

Caseus made his way through the hall, between the rows of crowded tables, heading towards the job desk at the back. He walked slower than usual, allowing Arabella to keep pace, still hobbling along. The pair drew a few looks as they went through.

Murmurs about the “loner from Soledad” floated amongst them, but Caseus paid them no mind.

As they approached the job counter, a middle-aged man rose from behind it, picking up a stack of loose scrolls.

“Ah, Harada,” the man chuckled. “I was beginning to fret you might have been devoured!”

“You should know by now not to worry Marckus,” Caseus said with a wry smile.

“So, I presume you have completed the job from Zab? And how did it fair?”

Caseus revealed several dromaeosaur feathers from Arabella's knapsack. He laid them neatly in a row on the counter.

“They were dealt with. The Beasts were feral, I doubt even a Shaman could have talked reason into them.”

“Ah yes, yes, of course,” Marckus nodded as he examined each feather. He cast a glance from his silver-blue eyes.

“And who is this lovely little maiden you have with you? And from where did she come? Surely not from Zab, with hair like that?”

“Nay, not from Zab itself, but I lived just in the countryside around it,” Arabella said. It wasn't a total lie, but the entire group had agreed keeping their old home and conditions a secret for the time being. Until they knew more about that Zeta and her goals.

“I happened upon her on my journey back,” Caseus said, taking back the feathers. “She and her mother’s abode had burned down. I hope to find a place for them and their domesticated Beast to reside.”

“Oh, that's quite unfortunate!” Marckus said, before raising an eyebrow. “But what do you mean, two women have domesticated a Beast? For what purpose?”

“For assistance with farm work, mostly,” Arabella didn’t hesitate. They had already rehearsed their story well beforehand. “Tis’ a big help with tilling the field, as well as producing fertilizer.”

“Well, I suppose, but I would urge you to be cautious. One never knows what a Beast might do.” Unlike the other Venators, Marckus’s words were not laced with thinly veiled disdain or contempt when discussing Beasts. There was only concern in his voice.

“Oh Marckus, praytell, what is happening in the square? It’s quite a crowd.”

“Ah yes, you have been absent for a few days, I suppose you have not heard the news. There is to be a new royal decree issued today. And by the King himself, no less!”

There was a momentary pause. It felt like an eternity to Arabella, before Caseus spoke.

“The King… will be here, in the flesh, today?” He did an admirable job at masking the shock in his voice.

“Truly! He, along with Queen Mirabella and Prince Phillipi, will be here within hours.”

“But why would the royal family travel so far away from the palace, for a simple decree?” Arabella asked. “Are there not messengers for such things?”

“Apparently, the message is of great importance, pertaining to the Beasts and Venators. Perhaps they’ve come to personally congratulate us for a good job, eh!” Marckus sounded genuinely enthusiastic, clapping Caseus on the shoulder.

“Haha! Maybe so!” Caseus joined right in with the other man’s laughter. "Could you imagine that?"

It was unnerving, Arabella thought, how easily Caseus could adapt and lie, to become what people wanted.

Where does the acting end and his true self begin?

***

When the pair left Rrolando, the square was just as packed as before, while a banner of the Royal Coat of Arms, a crossing sword and fang, backed against flame, had since been erected over the stage. The two silently collected Shawk, before putting distance between themselves and the square. However, the pachycephalosaur didn’t wait until they were clear of the city limits before he began speaking.

“My lord, it is not safe!” he bleated. “Your father and that wretched whore are en route, they shall be here any-”

“Yes, yes Shawk, we know!” Arabella quickly tried to hush him, looking around for any nearby citizens. Now was no time for them to be losing their heads or risking being discovered.

Caseus did not immediately respond. His face had dropped the false joy, and was unreadable.

Father, he thought, what has she convinced you to do now?