8 Second Produc (1/2)
”This is an outrage!” the alchemist screamed through the sun-filled walkways of the outer castle. As he walked by the man's side, Corco looked past him, down onto the port city. The tall houses of the merchants, red roofs vibrant in the sunshine, spoke of the port city's prosperity. Truly one of the nicer places on Arcavia, at least from a distance. In another world, it might have been considered a must-see tourist attraction.
”Outraaage!” Hieronymus raised his voice even higher, which slumped Corco's shoulder. Even Brym who had run up ahead turned around and watched in curiosity, the bag of props still clutched in his arms. It seemed like ignoring the alchemist wouldn't be an option, so the prince looked towards the quack chemist with the long beard. Before he could answer though, Brym had already done it for him.
”What is an outrage, Master Bombasticus?”
”I will tell you, boy. I am the great Hieronymus Bombasticus, not a jokester who would perform tricks in front of others!” Again. Once again the alchemist complained about his role in their stage acts. They had the same discussion every other city they came through. Still, it was a routine the alchemist insisted on. As always, Corco would play along, just to placate the man.
”Look, you remember the deal we made in Etra, right?”
”...” an uncomfortable look was on his face as his head turned to the side to look out into the sunshine. They left the outer walkway of Eniila Castle and made their path through the outer gardens. Rather than a garden, it was a random assortment of wild grass, flowers and trees. Another sign of the unsophisticated nature of the Arcavians, Corco thought.
”Okay, my turn then,” the prince answered for the silent alchemist, ”You were willing to give us access to your equipment. We used your still, but you really shouldn't have stuck around to make sure we don't steal anything... which we could have done either way, what with three knight-strength men on our side and the one skinny alchemist on yours. Now it's too late for regrets. Now you know the way to make the brandy, at least somewhat, and we can't just let you go.”
A snort from his left interrupted Corco.
”Just a simple drink, nothing more. A bit of distillation is all it takes. Why would that be a secret worth keeping?”
”You're still saying that? Today of all days? You saw how the king reacted to that very drink. He went crazy over it. Just how much do you think the nobles of Arcavia are willing to spend on a wine made with instructions from the Lords themselves?”
Visibly uncomfortable, the alchemist began to drag his feet. He should understand very well how much money there would be in the exclusive rights to such a product. Meanwhile, Brym's eyes sparkled with an ”ooooh” at the thought of their revitalizing business empire.
”So really, what choice did you leave us?” Corco continued, ”The options were to kill you or take you along. We chose the latter, since we're such nice people. Now you're part of our gang of outlaws, as far as Duke Herak is concerned. Means you're no longer a threat to our business, since your safest place is right here.”
The alchemist opened his mouth, but Corco raised his voice first. ”And please don't tell me 'I would prefer death over humiliation'. No cliches, thank you.”
Bombasticus closed his mouth and for a while the three walked in silence, further away from the center of power behind them. Only when they had passed the outer wall and fully left the castle did the alchemist pick up the thread of conversation. ”Still, there is no need to include me in these embarrassing plays-”
”-acts. It's stage magic. Well, mentalism, really.”
”Whatever it is, sire could just as well have some of his friends assist him.”
One brow raised, Corco returned a bemused look. ”Have the giants play magician? No thank you. That sounds like a terrible idea for everyone involved. Not like we didn't try anyways. Fadelio can play the role, but he lacks the finger speed for the kind of stuff you do. As for Atau...”
”...yes, better not have your cousin take part in any more performances, big brother.” Brym finished the sentence with a shudder.
”Plus, you've got talent for this stuff. You're good at it. Got the whole flamboyance part down pat and your alchemic knowledge gives you all the tricks you need to bamboozle your way to the top.”
Finally, their goal had come into view: A shabby old stable, put outside the castle for the oxcarts. The accommodations the royals of Eniila had blessed them with.
”Just look at this treatment. How unsuited for a great alchemist. I might be forced to play along, but there is no reason for me to enjoy it.”
”Of course not,” Corco smiled. He understood very well how much fun Hieronymus had during their travels, but especially so during their performances. ”It's only a few more times now. After today, we'll camp out here for a few nights and wait for our names to spread out with the traders and bards. From then on, it's only kings and queens for us. Another eight or so countries and we're back to Borna. Then you'll be free of your magic duties.”
The door to the stable was opened with a creak. The first thing Corco noticed through the stench of the inside was the strange visitor they had received, hidden within the straw on the ground.
”Who's this?” Corco asked towards the back of the room in a stern voice. With great curiosity, he studied the man who lay on the floor before him, tied up and gagged. They really shouldn't just let prisoners stick around all by themselves.
”Ah, Laqhis. Welcome back.” Atau came from the back room while wiping his hands with a silk cloth, his beard neatly trimmed as always. ”How'd the performance go?”
”...who's this.” Corco ignored the question. The bound stranger seemed more important for now.
”Just another one of Herak's people. That's... the third this month?” Atau kicked the prisoner's foot. In reaction, a few muffled sounds escaped from his mouth as he squirmed around.
”He's not gonna let up, is he?” Corco concluded. ”Maybe it's high time for the duke to learn that he can't just send normal people to deal with a group of cultivators.”
”He better not learn anything,” Brym said with a shudder.