Brewing Bad Ch. 178-179

Ch. 178 - What to Do

Seconds later, the two men succumbed, and he and Lord Torvin were all but alone amidst the limp bodies of his rivals. “Going straight for the throat, huh?” Lucas asked as he set his glass down. 

“I only did what I learned from you,” Lord Torvin answered. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Of course, I noticed. I smell that shit every day in my laboratory," Lucas lied. “I’m just surprised you waited until this late in the evening.”

In that moment, he said whatever came to mind, but more than anything, he wished he’d brought an intelligence potion. He felt entirely outmatched by this devious opponent and wondered what further traps would await him.

“If I’d made a move earlier, someone would have suspected. Besides, it’s better this way; I considered killing all of them, actually,” Lord Torvin answered. “That would have been kinder, in a sense. I’ll need your support, though, and as you showed me last year, there’s a very easy way to get it.”

“Yeah, well, I assume that’s why you’re not out to kill me after your daughter was… You know,” Lucas answered. 

“Her death should have ensured yours, I agree,” the Duke admitted. “She was worth ten of you. Did our Prince ever tell you that I wanted your head for that? I practically begged the man for it, but he refused me.”

“So why aren’t you ordering your guards to kill me now?” he asked, very mindful that he didn’t have potions on him that were as strong as he would have liked. 

“Because the Prince let me torture your friend Adin for as long as it took to discover the truth,” the older man sighed heavily. “Wanting to kill you was a natural reaction. Even after I received her letter the following day, I still wanted you dead, but that need became less urgent once I decided that Adin was much more at fault than you were. The fact that you’ve killed her for me now practically wipes the slate clean between you and I.”

It was a twisted sort of logic, but Lucas would take it. Instead of following up on Adin’s fate, he asked, “What letter?”

“The one she sent me the night she died. I didn’t get it until the following day, after the furor had died down, but she told me…” his voice cracked had enough that the conversation paused, and he turned away for a moment to collect himself before he finished. “She told me that she’d guilted you into providing her an antidote for her addiction, and that she’d share it with me when she received it so that neither of us would have to endure what her husband did.”

Lucas wasn’t sure he’d call methadone a cure for heroin, but if that was how she’d wanted to interpret his words, that was fine with him. Just mentioning that night was enough to take him back to that burning building, and the fear that Danaria had gone up in smoke along with everyone else. 

Eventually, when Lucas said nothing, Lord Torvin continued, for which he was grateful, because the silence was growing uncomfortable. “She condemned you as a fool, and at the time, I agreed. When someone has a child, you don’t take pity on them; find a way to use that new bargaining chip against them as well. Now though… Well, after everything that’s happened between us in the past year, I’m content to take out my vengeance on a different Parin, and so long as you supply me with what I need, both for myself and all of the new friends I plan on making, well… We will have a similar accord that you had with Prince Raston before his untimely demise.”

As he finished speaking, he proffered his hand, and even though Lucas hadn’t decided exactly what he was going to do, he shook it. It was better to appear to be onboard now and then betray the man later, than appear to be hesitant now and later decide working with him was in everyone’s best interest. 

“You should know I’m planning on dialing down the Blue,” Lucas said as he gripped the man’s hand and searched his face for a reaction. “I meant what I said to your daughter, but I mean it just as much for everyone else, especially the people who can’t really afford the addiction.”

Lord Torvin pursed his lips at that and paused a moment before answering. “I don’t care what you do for the little people. It’s probably in their best interest if you dial things back there so they can focus on more productive pursuits. That said, I will require sufficient supplies to give to those who matter in line.”

Lucas shrugged and said, “As long as you’re paying, that’s fine with me.”

After the conversation, while everyone else still snored softly at the table, lost in drug-induced delerium, Lucas and Lord Torvin adjured to his smoking room for a brandy. There, Lucas expressed surprise that the older man didn’t place getting cured of his own addiction at the top of his priorities.

“I’ve come to enjoy it, in moderation,” the Duke confessed. “Though I resent the leash, now that I hold yours, it doesn’t pose any challenges. Instead, it provides a balm for these troubling, chaotic times.”

The two of them talked about a great many things that night, and while it was obvious that Lord Torvin didn’t trust him completely, the fact that he’d decided he could control him trumped that in his noble mind. “Even valuable pawns are still just pawns,” the noble said more than once as he outlined a number of his plans for the coming days and weeks, and how he planned to ride a wave of carefully controlled public sentiment all the way to the throne, ahead of his rival Dukes and Duchesses. 

Lucas kept waiting for the hammer to drop and for some hidden assassin to try to drop a garotte around his neck, but it never happened. Instead, shortly after midnight, he was riding out of the city on his horse, only a little drunker for the wear. 

“Bad choice of words,” Lucas mumbled to himself as he recalled the Duke’s line while he rode out the East Gate with only a cursory check from the guards. “Pawns that get far enough grow up to be any piece they want.”

Lucas didn’t want to be the King. He didn’t want to be the front man on even the small scale that he sometimes had to be in this line of work. If Adin or anyone else would have been worth a shit, he would have happily passed that role on and retreated to his lab. However, as he sat there in Meadowin’s tiny tavern that night explaining everything he’d just heard to Kar’gandin and Hura’gh, he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to have to get more involved. 

“The man said it’s not your problem,” Hura’gh agreed. “So we can get back to business, and start making money again, as far as I see it.”

“Aye, he said that,” the dwarf agreed. “But sayin’ and meanin’ seem to be pretty much opposites as far as that man is concerned.”

“Yeah, my feelings exactly,” Lucas agreed. “So what do we do? If we give him time to consolidate power, he’ll be much harder to do anything about down the road.”

“You got someone better in mind for the job?” Hura’gh asked. “You want to be the King? Might suit you.”

“That’s literally the last thing I want,” Lucas insisted. “I just want to get on with my life, build a house, plan a wedding, and brew some shit.”  

“Aye, a good plan,” the dwarf agreed, “Just remember that men burn down far more plans than dragons could ever dream of.”

Despite their common misgivings, none of them could see what might be done about them, besides leaving the city, and given how badly Lucas had recently depleted their funds for his cloak, no one wanted that. Eventually, instead of talking about the Duke or even the Prince, they mostly just talked about the business and the dragon itself. Hura’gh wouldn’t let go of that one, and Lucas had the feeling he’d be retelling that story for a long time to come, but he supposed he couldn’t blame the guy. He’d been bathed in dragonfire after all. 

Kar’gandin, too, asked about the dragon’s gold more than once, and how it would be apportioned, but Lucas didn’t know. “We blasted the entrance shut to keep people from getting greedy,” Lucas explained. “That was a decision that Heisenburgle was going to leave for the Prince to decide.”

That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, he came home to Danaria. While they didn’t sleep in the same bed, because that would have been improper, he got to just sit quietly with her once they’d finished desperately making out, which was worth everything he’d been through as far as he was concerned. 

“You’re finally back, for good this time,” she said again, repeating the same line she’d already said a dozen times as if she was willing herself to believe it. 

“No more running, no more hiding,” he said, adding I hope, silently to the end. While he wanted to believe that the whisperers had no further plans for him beyond a reliable product, he was far from convinced. How could he be? He’d watched the Duke drug his own guests after lulling them into complacency with a sob story. 

For now, though, he was unwilling to taint an evening this special with worries or doubts. He was certain about one thing, and that was the woman in his arms. She’d been worth fighting a dragon for, and sometime soon, she’d be worth going straight for.  

That night, Lucas had a little trouble sleeping because he was so used to being up at night. Fortunately, the booze and the exhaustion from his busy day helped with that, and after a little bit of tossing and turning, he passed out, still thinking of Danaria.

What a great way to end a rough week, he told himself as he fell asleep in the unfamiliar bed.

The best part of all of it, though, was that when he woke up in the morning, there was nowhere he had to be, no one he had to kill, and nothing he had to do. Sure, eventually he’d have to make more Blue, as well as a few more powerful boost potions in case something happened. Eventually, he’d have to worry about Lord Torvin’s machinations. Those were all problems that needed addressing. 

However, as he lay there, blearily considering the idea of ending the nocturnal structure he’d been forced to stick to at Heisenburgle’s whim for so long, there was nothing he needed to do right now, and that made all the difference in the world. There was a peace to be found in a bit of sloth, and until this moment, he’d forgotten how good being lazy could feel as he pulled the down comforter a little tighter up to his neck. 

Ch. 179 - Tangled Webs

The next few days were among the best that Lucas had experienced since Parin Manor had burned down. He lingered in bed every morning before going to the market with his fiancée. Then, after fetching hot bread for everyone’s breakfast, they’d take a walk through the fields or check out the progress their home was making. 

Mostly, during these times, they’d do nothing more productive than flirt. Whenever he raised the specter of their impending marriage, she’d get flustered immediately. No matter what part Lucas tried to talk about, she wished that her brother or father were around to handle such details.

It was adorable, but as much as he loved watching her blush, he felt like they actually needed to pick a date, and soon. It wasn’t just that he was tired of sleeping alone, either. It was that an unmarried couple in the same house got any number of suspicious looks; he had yet to hear any barroom whispers, but men like Mort, whom he trusted implicitly, insisted they were happening. 

So, eventually, on their third morning outing, he picked a date nearly at random. “We’ll do it on Midsomer then,” he said after she wilted beneath the question one final time. That’s still a couple of months away, and time for our tailor to make you something nice. 

“Well, h-he might actually be working on such a thing already,” she admitted with burning cheeks. “But you can’t see it! It would be bad luck.”

“Not even a little peek?” Lucas teased, earning a slap. 

While he spent his mornings and evenings with the woman he loved, he spent the afternoons with his crew. Sometimes these were just logistical meetings, discussing what resources they had and the like. Still, as boring as that sort of thing would normally be, after being away for long, even simple discussions about manpower and reagents were nice to have again, and in less than a week, they were practically back up to full speed and gathering the things he’d need to make Blue. 

Of course, Blue was something he hoped to make less of, but Lwynthenll wasn’t on the menu for the first few days, as he stocked up, because he had no way to make more Distilled Moonlight. Despite the expense of making those mirrors, Lucas got that project started right away. The sooner he did, the sooner he could start weaning people off the hard stuff. 

That’s the way things went for the next few days. In fact, until he received a message from Heisenburgle, he’d almost calmed down and convinced himself there was nothing to worry about. However, when he received the scroll one morning at the farmhouse that was their temporary base, it pricked his paranoia right away. That uneasy feeling started before Lucas even opened it. It started as soon as he remembered who the messenger was.

Even before he noticed that the seal looked a little sloppy for the gnome, he noticed that the man who was carrying it was someone that Heisenburgle had already pointed out as being one of the Prince’s men. That put him on edge as he smiled and greeted the man. Likewise, the messy seal told him that the message had already been forced open and resealed en route here. 

Both of those were concerning, but Lucas didn’t let that show on his face. Instead, he made chit-chat and asked the man, “You and your buddy ever figure out your recipe?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” the assistant sighed. “I tried doing what you did a few weeks later, as an experiment, you understand... Made me as sick as a dog.”

“That will happen,” Lucas laughed, pretending to be at ease. He even gossiped about Heisenburgle and how awful he was behind his back to put a little social distance between them. It was only after all that that he finally cracked open the scroll and saw that something was afoot.   

While there was nothing special about the paper or the words, Lucas knew as soon as he read the first few lines that there was some spy movie shit going on. He knew that right away, because all of the recipes that the gnome referenced were all wrong.

‘My dear colleague,’ it started out, somehow managing to make the man’s abrasive voice come right through the page. Not Lucas, or even Mister Blue. Just colleague. ‘While you are shirking your duties and no doubt enjoying your newfound glory back in the city, I regret to inform you that you’ve left a real mess back here in Blackgate. While most of the problems can be muddled through, you’ve left the critical reagents I will need for several elixirs practically empty, and I will require you to replenish them.’

While Lucas could imagine Heisenburgle writing a scathing note like this, the part that came next was something that he would have never done. He made a long list of potions and their reagents. All of the potions were real; while Lucas hadn’t made any except for Lwynthenll and Distilled Moonlight, he’d seen them in the gnomes' books. 

None of the reagents were correct, though. They were all over the map; they weren’t even elementally categorized, which would have been the first thing the damn gnome would have done. 

What game is it he’s playing here, Lucas wondered as he pretended to studiously read the thing. I’ve never even used half of these. 

Wight Bones (ground), Alum (powdered), Terethitha Blossoms (dried), Chimera Teeth (crushed), Hair (orc, preferably male), Ogre Bile (purified), Umberhulk Grease (aged), Talons, Eagle (sharpened).

It took him several seconds longer than it should have to see the pattern. He would have seen it immediately if the items were listed one atop the other, but then so would everyone else. The first letters of each ingredient spelled out a message. W-A-T-C-H-O-U-T. 

That was almost certainly, and Lucas stiffened enough at that, that he forced himself to laugh after, and say, “This fucking guy, right? The Prince stops paying his bills, and suddenly he wants me to shell out for his reagents, am I right?”

The messenger smiled back, but there was a nervousness there, too. “You don’t really think the crown will withdraw its support, do you?” he asked. 

Lucas gave a noncommittal answer and kept reading. He was much less interested in the man who was certainly spying on him than the hidden messages he was obviously meant to ferret out. 

‘While I can do without these ingredients for some time, there is one critical component that is greatly delaying my moonlight experiments, and it is vital that you get it post haste! By that, I of course mean the Moonflower Blossom. Any respectable alchemist would know that, but in your case, I feel the need to make sure so there are no further mistakes. I seem to recall that you once found such a blossom in a marshy pond not so far from the keep. Perhaps you could check there and see if any have regrown. It is urgent that you get these for me as soon as possible!’

After that, there was a long-winded passage about the growing habits of such flowers, along with their seasonality and information on harvest. The gnome insisted that if he found one, he pluck it only at night to shield it from daylight to prevent a loss of potency.

In person, Heisenburgle tended to raise his voice to express emphasis. Sometimes he did it until he was screeching and painful to listen to. Still, Lucas had never seen the equivalent in writing before now and found the underlined passages and exclamation points to be a bit over the top.

Is there a code in there, too? He wondered. It didn’t look that way, but it sure looked like he wanted him to go somewhere very specific. 

“So is that it?” Lucas said finally, feigning exasperation. “Look, I’m busy here. I’ve got shit to make and without a real lab it takes a lot longer than it used to, so why don’t you go back and tell him to just add all this shit up and bill me for it, alright?”

“Are you sure that will be all?” the apprentice asked. “You don’t wish to send him a message or—”

“Look, my message is to tell him to go to hell,” Lucas interrupted, “but I’m sure you don’t want to be the one to tell that gray haired weasel that, so just tell him I asked him how many golden dragons it will take to keep him out of my hair forever, alright?”

The apprentice nodded glumly at that, visibly disappointed, making it so obvious that Lucas was tempted to ask him if he got paid by the document or the betrayal. The man was a poor spy, but then he supposed that, given his current level of paranoia, almost everyone was probably a poor spy. 

That encounter weighed on Lucas for the rest of the day. He didn’t tell anyone about it, or let them see the message, which he read several more times in an attempt to find additional messages that either weren’t there, or that he was too stupid to find. Eventually, though, he decided his first interpretation had been the correct one. This was a warning, and Heisenburgle wanted him to go to a very specific spot in the middle of the woods, hours from here. 

What would he find there? He couldn’t say. The most likely option would be Heisenburgle himself, there to relay some message to him. After that, though, the next most likely option was probably an ambush or worse. 

Do I really want to flip that coin? He asked himself. 

The answer was, of course. He would always choose yes on something like this. Ever since he’d met with Lord Torvin, he’d felt a distant sort of doom hovering over him. While it vanished when he was with his fiancée, it intensified in the hours afterward as he worried about her as much as himself. 

Still, he waited until Danaria was in bed before he got on his horse and started to ride, with nothing but a few ghetto boost potions he was working on with locally available ingredients and his sword. He told Kar’gandin where he was going, but not Hura’gh. The half-orc would have insisted that he come along, and Lucas was more interested in being quick and quiet than getting into fights. 

Potion of Lesser Physicality (3 doses): Strength 3 (brawny), poison 2 (itching), endurance  2 (thick-skinned), agility 2 (reflexive). Provides full benefit for ten minutes, and a more limited benefit for up to half an hour. 

Three strength isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing. Even if it is an ambush, invisibility at night will work a lot better than a sword, he told himself. Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can get back. 

Having just started his attempt to resume a day schedule, his mind protested at the idea of spending half the night on a horse, but it was only a couple hours each way; if all went well he should be able to get there and in time to still get a couple hours of shut eye.