A Friend to Rats III

Despite what Caresson said, there's really not much we can do from here. It's not as though we can sneak into Épicier manor and find documents saying, 'I am hiring spies and thugs to harass everyone.' If Nick is that stupid, I'll eat both of my boots.

Even if we're invited back in, I can't just wander around the manor and Caresson would be far too conspicuous and inexperienced to go sneaking around.

Instead, Caresson and I return to his squad where they briefly tease him about Veronica before returning to their dice game. Caresson joins them, but looks guilty. His eyes are dodgy and his foot taps impatiently. Almost like he's looking for something to punch, or more likely someone to arrest.
I'm certain he hasn't always been this rowdy. He was fine up until he sat down, so it's not the dread of facing down Épicier's ire that has him all jittery. Although he might be able to hide it better while he has an objective of some kind. When he's just sitting waiting, he can't help but imagine all the worst possible outcomes.
I should keep him moving. If he becomes too worried about outcomes that are likely to never happen, he could become a liability.

I begin the prayer that should allow me to speak with the other templars. "Through action is Sol's will done. Through word is it shared. May his will be shared through an unworthy soul like me."

"What is it heretic?"

"As much as I don't want to interrupt, the chosen are more obsessed with me than I thought they would be. It's likely that one of them will find their way over here, or even send someone else to keep an eye on me."

One of them objects. "Didn't she just observe you yesterday? Is that not enough?"

Caresson speaks up. "No, it's not. They've both warned me he's a creature of deceit and darkness despite her majesty explaining his soul's unique issue."
He stands, "Sorry lads, but while Kar'Desh is with us, we'll have to actually work."

They groan as they clean their game and stand. "Great, the heretic is a snitch."

"If I was a snitch, I wouldn't be a heretic."

"Was that disrespect heretic?"

"No sir. Just clarifying."

Caresson sighs. "Enough. E, Jean. You two are with me. Orvyn, take the rest."

They offer their acknowledgment and depart. Caresson takes my chain and leads us down the street, through the shopping crowds. Shop keepers who haven't already, shout and greet the templars and poke fun at me. Various women make advances at the templars but Caresson lets them all down easy. Jean and E do not. They eagerly accept any advances like normal people and readily flirt with the passerbys. Being a templar must be nice...
It takes a bit longer than I anticipated, but Caresson quickly calms down. Even just doing basic patrol keeps him focused and steady.

It isn't long before we encounter a drunken brawl. Two idiots roll around in the street with a crowd of people shouting various encouragement, with a betting pool already gaining significant traction. Shouldn't Épicier's men take care of this? Where are they anyway? I haven't seen a single Épicier solider this whole day. Nick must be preparing them for the battle with the beastmen or something.

Caresson orders, "Jean. You and the heretic keep the crowd back as best you can. E, take control of that betting pool before it gets out of control. I'll monitor the fight."
Jean and I control the crowd, barking out orders to keep them back, giving the fighters room to wrestle while Caresson breaks up the fight and structures it properly. Meanwhile I guess E is overseeing the betting pool?
Caresson gets the drunkards to their feet, making sure they're steady before announcing the rules of the brawl. The first to the ground loses, best of three.

Somehow we end up doing this most of the day. After one fight was over more people decided it was their turn. Most ended up being friendly wrestling matches between friends with a few cases of bad blood and grudges duking it out. Until a giant of a human deciding to make a show of himself, winning a long string of bouts back to back before finally being taken down by a barely adolescent girl. He threw the match of course, but no one expected another outcome.

After the giant man, the fights slow down until there are no more volunteers. The rest of our patrol ends up uneventful, but serves to keep Caresson under wraps. During mid-day we return to one of the templar's barracks to nap until the Sun decides to reemerge from the Western mountains. The barracks is a perfectly ordinary building, except for the fact it has nothing but beds inside. Some of the beds are even hanging from the ceiling. An interesting way to save space, but I can't help but wonder how the ceiling can support such weight. Templars from other squads jeer at Caresson as I pass, like I'm a mark of shame he's hauling around. Jean and E bark at the others to 'Fuck off.' All that does is irritate the other templars, some hopping off their beds and out of their seats challenging the 'ash fuckers' to another brawl.
This happens every time I'm here. Caresson's squad is notorious for being sympathetic to the elves and the other templars give them no end of shit for it. It's just a bunch of idiotic assholes blowing smoke out their ass and Caresson knows it. He demands through the rising shouts, "Save it for training templar."
It doesn't really calm them down, but it never escalates into a full blown fight, so I suppose it works. 

Jean and E stay behind to keep the shouting match going while Caresson leads me to the temporary cell meant for people who committed no actual crime. The cage door shuts and I say, "Sorry about that. I know it must be annoying."

He waves his hand as he walks away. "Not your fault those two idiots antagonize them."

True enough I suppose. I spend mid-day in a cell with a particularly foul-smelling drunk snoring on the only bench. I find a good spot in the corner away from the shit bucket and sleep until we're ready to leave. When Caresson returns, he quietly says, "I've thought of someone else who will testify against Épicier."

"You have? Who?"

 "The elves from the warehouse."

"Will they help us? I'm not sure if you remember how our last interaction went."

He shrugs. "It can't hurt to try. The more weapons we have against him the better."

"Elven opinion isn't exactly valued around here. Will it even help?"

He takes a breath, weighing his response. "I believe it will."

It's obvious he's made up his mind about this. Might as well go along with it. "Lead the way."

The barracks, still filled with mostly sleeping templars, doesn't stir at our passing. Caresson leads me on my chain outside where priests are already tending to the temple's various plants. Light chatter echoes down from the ballista towers under the song of morning birds. The streets are lit, only by whatever scraps of light the Sun can toss over the mountains. A tranquil morning for the Sol zealots. For some reason that pisses me off. It shouldn't, I know, but fixing that is last on my priorities right now.

I follow Caresson through mostly empty city streets, passing countless and well constructed multi-floor buildings that house too many families. We march unabetted until we reach a gatehouse leading down into the dwarven tunnels. It looks like a cross between a mausoleum and a defensive wall. Short circular towers flank the gate, archers standing at attention. A decorative slab of stone sits as the portcullis, trapping the dwarves until they need to come up for air or food. Judging by the layer of dust on this door, that doesn't happen here. 

The duke's men guarding the gate greet us. "Templar. Heretic."

"We've business with prisoners here. A band of elven thugs."

The guards glance at each other and shrug. "Who are we to deny Sol's will? I'll unlock the gate for you."
The doorman leads us into the tower beside the gate and down a circular flight of stairs, unlocks a few iron gates, then ushers us in. "They're in there somewhere. I won't complain if a few end up dead."
I glare at the fucker before he hops back up the stairs.

The room is surprisingly large for an underground prison. The stench of living waste attacks my nose. Crumbs of sunlight dribble in from grates in the ceiling high above. Caresson slips a dazkrid stalk off the wall and snaps it, illuminating the plain stone room.
We peer through small gaps in barricaded doors finding broken people and bodies, left to fester in their own rage or decay. Eventually we find a cage of elves who clearly haven't been rotting as long as the others. Caresson quietly calls out, "Frel'Lander?"

A tired voice answers back, "Have you finally come to order my death? Now that you got what you want out of me."

"I'm not your interrogator. I'm the templar who arrested you. I need you to testify against the man who hired you."

The distinct sound of someone shuffling to their feet and dragging themself to the door echoes out of the room. As soon as he reaches the door, he spits leaving a glob of sickly drool rolling down Caresson's cheek. "Fuck. You. If you want someone killed why not do it yourself? No one cried when you slaughtered us. Not even you, vlal'lil."
An elvish word meaning 'kin slayer.'

Caresson wipes away the spit and calmly says, "I am sorry. If-"

Frel slams the door. "What am I supposed to do with that!?"
The other elves shout insults at Caresson joining their leader's rage.

Caresson continues, loud enough to shut them down, but still calm, "Nothing! You can do nothing with apologies, I know. But it is still in your best interests to help me with this. He and I are preparing to apprehend Nickolas Épicier. We need your help to do it."

Intense and quiet Frel says, "You looking to kill our families too?"
What the fuck is he talking about? Caresson and I exchange a quick glance as Frel continues. "What kind of insane joke is this? You're deranged!"

Caresson holds up a hand to stop him. "Slow down. How does arresting Épicier kill your families? He's the one who put you in here."

"Is that what the vlal'lil told you? He's the only one giving elves a fighting chance! The only one offering us work while every one else stomps on our pleas for help! It's time you humans got your due."

He's an idiot. If we were anyone else, he would've just ratted Épicier out.  I respond before Caresson has a chance to. "That doesn't mean he's helping you. I worked under him as a thief, but all that did was make the humans my enemy. It's people like Keer'Klalen who are helping the elves, by honest hard work. Épicier only hires us as thugs and thieves! You think that will help our standing in the world?"

"Shut the fuck up vlal'lil! You betrayed you're own people to suckle the human teat! Does it taste good vlal'lil? The milk of the humans mixed with the blood of your kin?"
He laughs and continues. "Maybe I should tell the guards you're trying to incriminate lord Épicier. Rip you right off that teat."

I push Caresson aside, drop my shield, and shoot my hand through the small gap in the door. I seize his collar and slam him against the door. The other elves rush to tear him from my grip so I raise my spear and and shout, "Stand back! Or I'll run him through, then all of you!"

Frel hisses, "Do it! Prove us right!"

"Silence idiot. What good does being right do if you're dead? Do you know what the guard said to me? He doesn't care how many of you end up dead by the end of our conversation, so trust me when I say, if you oppose us I will kill you."

Caresson grips my shoulder. "Weapons down Kar'Desh. I won't let you do this."

Fuck, I'm out of breath. I keep my grip on Frel and turn to Caresson taking heavy breaths. "Stay out of this Caresson. This man threatens my family by revealing us. Punish me all you want, but I won't sacrifice my family to aid your plan."

He snatches my wrist and his grip tightens. He twists my arm as he growls, "I said. Weapons down."
I groan, too weak to resist. My spear clatters to the ground and Caresson pushes me out of the way. Without looking back, he says, "I'm not your enemy Frel'Lander. If I could save you, I would. I want to see your people thrive, I want your family to survive and the people who oppress them brought to justice. Épicier is the one directly holding your people back. He's the one who gave me the order to imprison you."

Frel, still skeptical, says, "Why would he do that? Don't try to lie to me."

"Maybe because you've already admitted twice now that Épicier hired you as thugs and you were a liability? Maybe he no longer needed you so he gave you a fake seal and sent someone else to clean up. I don't know why. But with your testimony we can bring that man to justice and end his reign. It won't solve all your people's problems but it will be a step in the right direction. Help us Frel."

Silence. This is a good sign. It isn't how I would've gone about this, but I suppose there's plenty of methods to skin a cat. Light discussion echoes out of the door. "I don't know if I believe him. We were loyal, why would Épicier get rid of us?"
"Maybe you were, but Aul and Frear weren't..."
"I've been saying from the start we shouldn't have trusted Épicier..."
"It's a ploy, how can you all not see that?"

Frel finally lashes out. "Enough enough!"
He sighs in frustration, unable to accept the fact he might be negotiating with a templar. "Why do you want to help us? What do you get out of this?"

Caresson is silent for a moment. He's never thought of this before. Slowly, he starts. "I'd like to give you a noble reason like the betterment of our city or some verse from the holy book of Sol. But I am a selfish man. Épicier has hurt those I love and for once I have the power to stop it."

He didn't have to be honest about it. Frel is intense as he says, "Then promise me something templar. Promise me, and I'll help you."
Caresson nods so Frel continues. "Get us out of here. If what you said was true then we were manipulated into our position. It isn't right that we should be imprisoned and killed for that, is it? Promise me that and I'll testify."

That's not something Caresson or I can promise. It's one thing pardoning someone for crimes committed for the greater good, but it's another thing entirely to release criminals apprehended and convicted. The dazkrid stalk flickers and flies buzz in other cells. He finally responds, "I'll do what I can, but-"

"That's not good enough! I need your word that we'll be released!"

Caresson's face darkens, his eyes shift around, and his hand fidgets on his hilt. Do it Caresson. A lie is a small price to pay to get them on our side. He sucks air in through his teeth and says, "I promise. I will free you if Épicier is arrested."

Frel sighs in relief. "Then you have our testimony."

"Thank you Frel. We will call on you when we need you."
He turns to me and waves towards the exit. "Come on. We're leaving."

As we leave some of the prisoners from other cells cry out, "Wait, you're leaving? What about us!? I'll testify or whatever you need! Come on, let me out!"

We ignore them. We leave the dark prison and the wails of desperate criminals behind us. As the gates close and we begin up the stairs, Caresson begins. "I've been lenient with you so far. Don't abuse my kindness and disobey my orders. When I say weapons down, your only response is 'yes sir.' Understand?"

Let's try to salvage this. "Yes sir. I apologize, but they needed an immediate enemy if they were going to trust you. I was just playing the part."

"And you believe that helped us?"

"I do. You became the hero who put down the crazy man about to stab them instead of just the templar who arrested and slayed their friends."

"Don't leave me in the dark like that. If you have a plan, discuss it with me before-hand."

I could point out how I couldn't have known what they would need before hand, but instead I'll just say, "Yes sir, it won't happen again."
It won't happen so blatantly anyway. If it does, you'll never know. I should change the subject quickly before he can think too much on it. "Will... Will we be able to free them sir?"

We emerge on the surface, the Sun peers over the mountains at the chatter of a city waking up filling the streets. Caresson's gaze lays on the ground. "No. We won't."
I follow him back to the temple in the uncomfortable silence I created. I almost feel bad about abusing Caresson's guilt. But a small sacrifice shouldn't weigh so heavily on him in the first place.