The Deceiver's Path - Chapter 147 - Where Messengers Fall (Patreon)

Piper bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet as the slaves were loaded onto the sleighs. As one of the wayfarers moved to place Vespera in Joanna’s transport, Piper motioned toward her own transport. The man shrugged and changed direction.

While the wayfarer attached a chain running from a collar around Vespera’s neck to the side rails, Piper climbed into the back. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before leaning in to whisper to the young woman.

“What happened to you? Why are you a slave?”

Vespera avoided her gaze and stared glumly at the floorboards.

After a minute had passed, Piper continued. “I can keep you safe. Please talk to me. What happened to you?”

“I’m not allowed to speak!” Vespera whispered harshly before shooting a fearful look over at the heavyset noblewoman. “She’ll hurt me if I do.”

“I said that I’d protect you.”

“She’s already taken so much from me. I’m begging you—please stop talking to me.”

Piper suppressed her frustration and leaned back in the sleigh. She waited as the others climbed inside, with Ophelia taking a seat across from her, and Lysander retaking his position behind the driver. The man’s face was like a thundercloud.

Lysander draped his arms over his knees and pointed at Vespera. “Aren’t you the girl I talked to the other day?” When the young woman didn’t reply, he nodded knowingly. “Hard to forget someone with your hair. I know it’s not worth much, but I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“Thank you,” Vespera whispered. Her voice cracked and her shoulders began to heave with silent sobs.

Piper squeezed her hands together until the tips of her nails dug into her palms. She gritted her teeth, fighting down the urge to summon a troll to toss the noblewoman over the walls. Maybe a couple of broken bones would teach her not to enslave people.

Once everyone had retaken their seats on the sleigh, the driver snapped the reins and sent the horses lumbering forward. No one spoke as the town walls shrank behind them. Soon, they were on a barren road leading deeper into the mountains.

As the other sleighs fell behind them, Piper leaned in closer to Vespera. “It’s safe to talk now,” she whispered. “The noblewoman probably can’t even see you.”

“Her name is Mistress Nephele,” Vespera mumbled.

“How did you become a slave?” Piper asked. “If you give me a bit of time, I can find a way for you to escape.”

Lysander eyed her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Those are dangerous words, gravebait. Freeing a slave is a good way to end up with your head on a pike.”

“Are you going to stop me?” she asked fiercely. “Because I’m not going to let my friend rot in chains.”

“Nope,” Lysander replied, pressing his back against the sideboard. “But you have to be smart with whatever you’re planning. Otherwise, we’ll all join you on a pike somewhere.”

Ophelia lifted her wooden sword. “We’re not afraid of anyone.”

Zenos, silent until now, shook his head. “You probably should be. There are many powerful adventurers in the service of the Lord-Mayor. I’ve heard tales of some of their prowess, including an incredibly powerful shepherdess. However, I agree that no one should live a life of servitude.”

The other slaves in the wagon were shooting hopeful looks in their direction as their conversation became impossible to ignore. Clearly, Piper should have kept her voice down because now she had nearly half a dozen witnesses to her planning to commit a serious crime.

Piper furiously blushed at her recklessness—she was starting to act more like Ophelia. But at least she could console herself with the fact that the others were on board with freeing the slaves. That also meant she couldn’t run off half-cocked to save Vespera. She needed a plan where none of them could be implicated.

Exhaling, she slumped back miserably. The thought of leaving Vespera in slavery—even for a short time—made her feel nauseous. However, that was exactly what she’d have to do until she came up with a strategy to free the slaves.

Vespera dried her tears and straightened up slightly. “I don’t want you to get into trouble for me.”

Piper reached out to pat Vespera on the shoulder, but the young woman recoiled violently. Wincing slightly, she pulled her hand back. Since the last time she’d seen the red-haired woman, she must have endured terrible things.

Piper tried to smile encouragingly at the young woman. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Vespera shrugged slightly, her chains clinking together. “The Lord-Mayor decreed that all non-citizens were a drain on the town while the roads were cut off by the winter storms. A group of mercenaries found my family and forced us into slavery. I don’t know what happened to my mother and siblings.”

Piper sat back as she digested the woman’s words. Had the same mercenary group she faced off against enslaved her friend? The thought increased her nausea and flooded her veins with rage. She was beginning to think that Ophelia was right, and she shouldn’t have spared the slavers.

It’s so hard to know what to do sometimes, she thought to herself. I just don’t want to screw up and hurt someone innocent again.

But she was also coming to the realization that by doing nothing, she allowed evil to flourish. How many others had she condemned to death in the mines after allowing the slavers to go free?

“Do you have anything to treat pain?” Vespera asked softly.

“Did Nephele hurt you?”

The young woman nodded her head slowly.

“What did she do to you?”

Vespera winced as she opened her mouth to reveal broken and missing teeth. “She likes to punish slaves who misbehave. Just last night, Mistress Nephele beat an old woman for over an hour because she talked back to her.” Her next words came out as a stutter. “One-one of the woman’s eyes popped out, and she didn’t make a sound. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. The old lady… died later—lying right beside me. No one even tried to help her!”

Piper lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “That’s terrible.”

Vespera’s voice shrank. “Do you have anything for my tooth pain? You know I wouldn’t ask, but I haven’t slept in days because it hurts so much.”

Lysander swung his bag around and rifled inside. “I have something for you. I always pick up a handful of potions from an alchemist whenever I get a new batch of gravebait to watch over. However, this latest group has been surprisingly resilient and hasn’t needed to use any of them yet.”

After a moment, the wayfarer pulled out a vial wrapped in soft leather with a cork on top. He handed it to Vespera, who recoiled and shook her head.

“I can’t take that from you. Potions cost a fortune and I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

“Did I say anything about paying me back?” Lysander shook his head. “Now take the damn potion to get rid of your pain. I have no desire to listen to you complain the entire journey because you’re too proud to accept a potion.”

“Please,” Piper said gently to Vespera. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll pay Lysander for the potion in the future.”

Vespera’s gaze darted between them before she gently took the vial from Lysander’s grip. She popped off the cork and upended the contents into her mouth. After several seconds had passed, she sighed and lay down on the floor. Her eyelids fluttered and then she fell into a deep slumber.

“She’s asleep already?” Piper asked, watching the young woman. “That was quick.”

Lysander swung his bag back into place. “Healing potions take a lot out of a person. Also, I imagine regrowing teeth isn’t a pleasant experience. Probably best that she’s asleep for that part.”

“Will it regrow all of her teeth?” Aside from the time she’d purchased the healing potions to heal her surrogate family, she had little experience with anything alchemy-related. In the future, she should look into purchasing a supply of potions for herself.

“It should,” Lysander said. “Mind you, the potion is on the cheap side. It might only fix the damaged teeth, but there’s no way to know until she wakes up.”

Zenos crossed his arms. “What sort of monster knocks out a slave’s teeth?”

“I have no idea,” Piper replied. “I can’t believe that we’re helping someone like her. If it were up to me, I’d leave her tied up at the side of the road for the redcaps to deal with.”

A slave near the rear of the wagon guffawed before averting his gaze. The others smiled at Piper, most likely hoping that she would follow through on her threat.

As Piper realized what she’d said, the corner of her lips curled down into a frown. Normally, she wasn’t nearly this bloodthirsty, and she feared that Infernus was influencing her mind again. After nearly a minute of listening for the raspy voice, she decided her thoughts were a natural reaction to the torture Vespera had suffered.

Avoiding the slaves’ gazes, she turned to Ophelia. “What do you think we should do?”

Ophelia shrugged. “I say we beat the plump woman with sticks until she squeals.”

“Enough,” Lysander snapped. “None of us likes the noblewoman. However, we still have a job to do. Unless we all want to find a new guild, we need to get her safely to her manor. Whatever happens afterward is none of my concern.”

Piper pressed her lips together before nodding. “What do you think awaits us there?” She keenly remembered hearing that none of the messengers sent to the manor had returned, which in this world, usually meant that something terrible had happened to them.

Lysander lifted his sheathed sword and drew a sliver of the shining blade to examine it. “My hope is that the manor was raided by redcaps. Still, there are far worse things dwelling in these mountains. I want everyone to be on their guard.”

Zenos laid his war hammer over his lap. “I’m sure we’ll defeat whatever we encounter. I have faith in my group mates.”

“I’ll be fighting at your side this time,” Lysander said grimly. “As I said, I haven’t lost a gravebait in years, and I don’t plan on starting now.”

No one spoke after that, the only sounds the clink of the slaves’ chains, the creak of the wooden sleigh runners, and the muted noise of the hooves striking the snow-covered road.

The next few hours passed mostly in silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Piper continued to watch the landscape, but nothing stirred in the icy terrain. She was starting to realize that rides were far less fun in the winter than in the fall. At this point, she’d be happy to see a single bird.

An icy wind sprang up, coursing down the rocky mountain peaks before reaching them. As the gale swept through the towering pine trees surrounding the path, a veil of white descended around the sleigh until Piper could see no further than the tip of her nose.

Piper shivered as the whiteout dumped snow down the back of her cloak, and the sharp flakes stung her face. Beside her, Ophelia unleashed a series of inventive curses, most likely suffering the same fate.

When the whiteout cleared, hulking figures stood wreathed in shadows beneath the trees. Not a single one of them moved as the sleigh crept by.

“What in the name of the Emperor?” the driver whispered as he scanned the forest.

“Turn around,” Lysander said, his face draining of color. “We need to leave… immediately!”

“Do you see a place to turn around?” the driver shot back. “… ‘Cause I don’t.”

“Do as you’re ordered,” Lysander replied. “Otherwise, we’re all dead.”

“And get hung up on a snowbank? Our best bet is to keep moving forward and try to outrun whatever those things are.”

Lysander drew his sword and rose into a half-crouch. “There’s no outrunning them if they have more waiting for us ahead.”

Piper concentrated on the shadows, trying to make out whatever had spooked Lysander. But she couldn’t make out any details on the creature. Then she felt a familiar swell of power—one that she hadn’t felt for years.

“Oh no…”

Ophelia squinted as the wind sent snowflakes swirling around the sleigh again. “What is it, Pip?”

“Something terrible,” she whispered. “Something we can’t fight against.”

As she spoke, one of the creatures marched forward into a shaft of light piercing the forest canopy, revealing its four arms ending in scything talons and squat muscular legs. A mouth filled with dagger-like teeth opened and closed as it regarded them.

They were facing harroth demons.

Piper quickly used [Identify], the results making her stomach twist into knots.

Harroth Demon, Level 189

These were no simple imps she was facing. And even with all her power, she doubted she could take on a single one of the demons, never mind an entire pack. Lysander was right—they needed to get out of here.

I guess that I found the infernal cult, she thought to herself sourly.

Still, the level of the demons staggered her. She’d expected something along the lines of the undead cultists she’d faced in Kalmyros. Not these monsters that could probably take on an entire group of adventurers by themselves.

“I’ll cloak us in illusions,” she said, the words spilling out of her mouth. Then she pointed at the driver. “But you need to find a way to turn us around. The best I can do is to confuse them for a bit, so when they figure out what’s going on, we need to be long gone.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the driver grumbled. “No promises. Still say we should make a run for it.”

As she formulated a battle plan, deciding what to cast first, her jaw dropped as Ophelia jumped over the side of the wagon. She watched in shock as her friend charged straight toward the demons who had moved to block the road.

“Darn Ophelia,” she muttered darkly as her plans crumbled. “Why couldn’t you stay put just this once?”