477 On His Back

“So,” Denson said, “You understand what happened?”

“Not really, no.” I said. “It looked like a duel gone wrong... but I know it wasn’t.”

“So you saw the castings? Heard them, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “Heard and saw nothing like that.” I said. “But Mohgson was winning when the corporal called an end to it. It’s called the Code of Loki, I can’t envision Tigrin breaking it like that.”

“He wouldn’t.” Denson admitted. “Not if he heard that being called.”

I blinked. “Siegen is the one who knows Air magic, though.”

“Yup. And Ayya has a feature that lets her cause others to Taunt.”

“That’s... what class gives THAT feature?” I asked.

[Diplomat. You and Him Fight.] my System supplied. And then, [Level 2 Diplomat required.]

.....

Because of course it was. If it was useful... well, no, I couldn’t say that. I got plenty of use out of my level one abilities.

But... abilities seem to become more useful the more levels one had. I may not be on the cusp of any level two classes, but maybe, with enough experience...

“Hey.” Denson said. “Pay attention. So, everyone except for you and the corporal was in on that trap.”

“Why was I excluded?” I asked.

“Worm.” he said, “You are the worst liar that ever existed.”

historical

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” he said. “Did you ever notice Tigrin to lie? Ever?”

My hands were full, but there was a sudden itch on my left earlobe. “Isn’t lying one of Loki’s virtues?” I asked, “Something like deception is like washing, both should be done daily?”

Denson spat. “With one exception. Those in a priestly capacity must always be honest to the faithful.”

“Tigrin wasn’t a priest, though.” I said. “At least not that I knew about.”

“Not the Priest class.” Denson said, “But he had something stuck at the wrong point in his mind. Can you see how he posed a danger to all of us?”

I snorted. “Why? Because he called us all blasphemers?”

“No, but because he meant it. You understand?”

“Not in the least.” I said. “It occurs to me that we are approaching the medical tents.”

“In his mind, he was the only one truly favored by Loki, and the only one truly honoring him.”

I blinked. “And the rest of you were heathens?”

“No. The rest of us were heretics. People who practiced a false faith while proclaiming ourselves the true worshipers.”

I let out a chuckle. “No. He’d have slaughtered all of you.”

“And expected a temple position for it.” Denson said.

“He seemed intelligent enough to know better.”

“No, there is intelligence, and there is wisdom, and there is charisma. He had Insight, and Resolve, and nothing that helped him understand other people. Tell me you didn’t notice signs of him disenfranchising all of us to further his religious beliefs.”

“Oh, you mean like calling me Pale Worm?” I asked. “No, wait, that was Ayya. Perhaps spitting in my food? Oh, that’s Mohgson right here.”

Denson swallowed. “What are you saying, Pale Worm? I mean... no, you are ACTING like Pale Worm, now.”

“Why?” I asked, “Because I’m mentioning that NONE OF YOU have done otherwise, whether for religious reasons, or racial, or possibly even other?”

“That’s not...” Denson said.

“And none of you have been that nice toward each other, either. It’s like watching little children, each with a scorecard and an array of verbal knives.”

Denson smiled. “Not a bad analogy, but be glad I’m the only one who heard you say that. Once we’re on the way to that massive graveyard, there’s always room for another body.”

“Was that a threat?” I asked.

“More a warning.” Denson said. “Now, more than ever, you need to fit in.”

“What?” I asked, “You mean bathe in Mohgson’s blood to get red skin?”

“Gyeh.” Denson spat. “No, you’re never going to be mistaken for a hobgoblin, but we need you to start thinking like one.”

“Or else?” I asked.

“Or else.” he said.

I squinted. There had to be a trap here.

“So I need you to do something for us.” he said. “Or else.”

How badly did I fear Denson? Not much. The others? It would be a hassle if I had to kill them all. And, truth be told, I wasn’t sure I could take them all at once.

“I need you to lie.” Denson said.

I laughed so hard it impeded my walking. “I ... I am... I am a Truthspeaker!” I gasped. “I literally cannot lie.”

“Then do it figuratively.” he insisted. “Not all truths need to be told, right.”

I grunted in a way that I hoped sounded noncommittal.

“Look.” he said, “You’re going to say what you’re going to say, and we’ll react, depending on what is said.

The guard at the medical tents had no interest in speaking to me, however. As a human, I must have been beneath his notice.

“You there.” he said to Denson. “What happened to this turd?”

“He just won a duel.” Denson said.

“This is the WINNER of a duel?” the guard said. “Is the loser still in one piece?”

Denson nodded enthusiastically. “One pyre will suffice for him.”

“Well, I’ve got to report this.”

“We’re with...”

The guard held up a cautionary finger. “I know who you’re with, and whom she works for. Be sure this is all outside the forge. Any further stain on your honor, and you’ll all likely burn.”

“Further stain?” I asked.

“Before you joined us.” Denson said. “They couldn’t find an actual person to take your slot.”

“I thought I was conscripted because of my skills.” I said.

“Huwha.” the guard said. “Welcome to the Army. Not a meritocracy. But go, get him the treatment he needs.”

We were unable to do that, the army not having a storage of healing potions. “Why not?” I asked.

“They only last two weeks at most.” Denson said. “And that’s IF they’re brewed properly. Most aren’t. It’s like gambling with the lives of the wounded. Maybe if it were Tigrin in the cot, but...”

He shrugged. I didn’t. We looked at each other until I blinked.

“But, even with one in four successes...” I said.

“Ha, try less than one in ten, and less if you trust your System to do it.” he said.

I dimly remembered that; my System, if I paid, could craft things while I engaged in other activities. Actually, now that I thought about it... “I manage better.” I said. “I take longer to do it, but...”

“Thor’s poop snacks.” Denson said.

The nearby doctor cleared his throat. “I, for one, am willing to set aside four pots and four sets of healing herbs.”

“See what you’ve done?” Denson asked. “All you needed to do was keep your mouth SHUT.”

I sighed.

“Do what you want, Pale Worm.” he said. “But if you think you’ve been treated poorly by us, wait until you see how sergeants get when you tell them one of their soldiers has died.”

“They aren’t going to transfer me to a medical unit just over a few woodsman’s healing potions.” I said.

“We just might.” the doctor said. “How difficult are you going to make that on us?”

“I think...” I said.

There was an orderly’s heavy hand suddenly on my shoulder, her nails threatening to break flesh. “I think he’ll look GREAT in red and red. I have a level in Investigator, so don’t even think of lying to me.”

Why is it always the people who have abilities to help them detect lies that can’t accept the truth? No, you know what, I’m distracting myself from the point.

If I thought boiling one pot with multiple doses of healing potions was bad, it was only because I hadn’t tried multiple pots, each of which had multiple doses. Denson had stormed off before even the first stage was done; I wonder how he had known.

It was after dark when the fourth pot belched forth a smell of pig flatulence and rose colored smoke. Pots one and three had come together nicely, but pot two had just refused any manner of imbuing; it was gunk.

I yawned, and stretched, and my eyes were closed when my feet were suddenly swept off to one side.

.....

“What?” I said, slipping out of an attempted wrist grab. I wasn’t fast enough with the legs; a pair of iron manacles clacked shut around my ankles. “Hey, what the...!”

A strap of leather fitted with what can only be described as a mouth-pillow was slid over my head and into my mouth, muffling my words. The pair of orderlies eventually forced my hands into my lower back, and secured them there.

The doctor, in his red on red uniform, stood over me. “One in four,” he said, “we MIGHT have let you go. “But the making of minor healing potions at one in two?” he whistled through his teeth. “I think you can brew LESSER healing potions. And if you can, that makes you VALUABLE.”

To the orderlies, he said, “Suicide watch. Keep him gagged. We continue the experiment tomorrow.”

Depending upon one’s outlook, I succeeded that test ... or I failed miserably.