ERIC

  Eric took a deep swig of his ale and let out a purr. Beer was one of the few things in life he still enjoyed, and he wasn’t going to let Rose’s glares ruin it for him. They both sat at a table in the only tavern in Clopcod, located conveniently across the road from Old Ted’s house. The tavern was as pathetic as you’d expect for a village like Clopcod. The ceiling was low, the floor dusty and the only other patrons were the three local drunks, who were probably the only reason the place maintained any kind of profit, and a mysterious man with a dark cloak in a shadowy corner. He would have been paid by the owner to be there, as every inn had to have one mysterious stranger to make the place seem “with the times”. It was either that or saucy tavern wenches. Eric wondered if the tavern was turning better profits than him, which were none and therefore very likely. Why hadn't he followed his dream and opened a pub? He should never have listened to his father.

  Rose sniffed at the tankard that dwarfed her hands. ‘I can’t believe you actually like this swill. It tastes like dishwater.’

  Eric finished the amber delight and slammed his tankard onto the table. ‘Fond of dishwater in the West are we?’

  ‘Our beer is actually refreshing. This is warm and gross.’ She slid the tankard away from her and grimaced. ‘Beer is supposed to be cold and fizzy.’

  ‘Fizzy? You mean stale?’ Eric scoffed. ‘And do you really think they can afford ice charms on every tankard?’

  ‘What about compressed air? You Easterners are so behind the times.’

  Eric thought compressed air sounded like an accident waiting to happen. And when alcohol was involved, everything was an accident waiting to happen. ‘This is plenty refreshing for me. Now stop moaning and drink up.’ He nodded to the barkeep. ‘You’ve only had one drink in two hours, the bartender’s giving you the evil eye.’ The barkeep had also been polishing the same glass for an hour. They’d been waiting in the tavern for almost two days (only leaving to sleep in their nearby tent) and the barman was never without a glass to polish in his hands. It must be a nervous tic.

  Rose stuck out her tongue. ‘I’m not thirsty. And besides, I shouldn’t drink and chuff. Handling a chuffer is more dangerous than it looks.’

  Eric thought it was exactly as dangerous as it looked. ‘That’s why animals are better.’ Eric wagged his finger. ‘You can be drunk out of your mind, and nine times out of ten a mule or horse will take you right home.’

  ‘What about the other one time?’

  Eric smiled. ‘That’s usually when the horse is drunk too. Then things don’t pan out too well.’ Eric had a few scars he didn’t remember the origins of. He partly blamed Daisy.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Anyway, we ain’t chuffing anywhere. We’re waiting for Larry.’

  ‘What if he never comes back?’

  ‘Oh, he’ll come back.’

  Rose gave him a level stare. ‘What makes you so sure?’

  ‘Because that beer barrel’s been edging its way over to us for the last ten minutes.’

  Rose turned and leapt out of her chair when she realised the barrel was right at her elbow.

  Eric chuckled as Rose tried to regain her composure. ‘Hi, Larry.’

  ‘Aww,’ said the upright beer barrel, the sound emanating from the open bung. ‘How’d you know it was me?’

  ‘Let’s just say I know a real beer keg when I see one. Did you find anything out?’

  ‘Sure did!’ Larry whispered with glee. ‘This spying business is a right lark. I wish I’d tried it sooner.’

  Rose ran her fingers along the wooden staves in wonderment, then sat back down and scribbled into her notebook. Larry wriggled with glee.

  Eric leaned in with anticipation. ‘So what did you hear?’

  Larry’s uncorked bung stretched into a kind of wooden grin. ‘Well, I pretended to be a table in his front room, see.’ He spoke fast and with a hint of pride. ‘Then I waited to find out who came to speak to him, just like you said. After a while, these two blokes arrived and gave him a bag of gold.’

  ‘What did they look like?’

  ‘Like real rough sorts. You know, eye patches, lots of stubble, facial scars, that sort of thing. Real evil-looking. And they had these funny pink skulls on their cloaks.’

  The pink skull symbol seemed awfully familiar. Eric shuffled in his chair. He didn’t like the sound of being up against rough sorts, he valued his face and kneecaps too much. ‘And then what?’

  ‘They asked Old Ted how many adventurers he’d sent into “the filthy mimic den”. The cheek of it! So I er… got a bit carried away. Come and take a look.’ Larry stretched open his lid, the wood melting aside.

  Eric stood up, peeked inside and was surprised to see Old Ted curled up inside the barrel, covered in bruises and splattered blood. He burst into life, squinting in the light. ‘Let me out of here you sons of harpies!’ He bellowed, ‘Do you know who you’re dealing with?! ‘The Dark Master will…’ The hole snapped back shut and the shouts became a distant muffle.

  ‘You kidnapped him?’ Rose hissed, warily glancing around the tavern.

  Larry jostled himself from side to side, and soon Old Ted went quiet again. ‘Yeah, uh, things kind of got out of hand after he insulted me and all. So I ate the two goons and grabbed Old Ted here. He’s been banging on about this Dark Master all the way over.’

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  ‘I told you all these adventurers are from a conspiracy!’ said Rose.

  Eric didn’t know who The Dark Master was. Probably some megalomaniac with too much money but not enough attention. He stood up. ‘We best get going then.’

  Rose got up too. ‘I’ll get our steeds.’

  * * *

  They retreated back to Porkhaven with a Scroll of Town Portal, resupplied and had a brief rest. Then the three (or four counting Old Ted in Larry’s belly) of them rode to Lord Egglewort’s castle. The mimic had reverted to his favoured form of a treasure chest, claiming it was what he “identified” as. Rose’s chuffer didn’t seem to mind the extra weight, so Larry had sat himself on the back of the lolling contraption as it rode along. Eric was astonished that as a square he managed to keep perfect balance.

  The castle guards ushered the group into the main hall, two of whom reluctantly carried Larry. They clearly hadn’t realised he wasn’t an actual chest and Larry didn’t correct them. The main hall was much sparser than Eric remembered. There were no tapestries or servants standing by. In fact, the cavernous room was empty with the sole exception of a table at the far end. There sat Lord Egglewort, with two dark figures looming over him. The discussion they were having was heated, and ended with Lord Egglewort screaming a collection of obscenities. The two figures bowed, turned and walked away, sneering as they passed Eric. He recognised the pair immediately. Pompous black tunics and a gait that suggested they were in charge of the very ground they walked on. Geiston & Geiston, Property Agents.

  Lord Egglewort noticed the new arrivals and wearily gestured them forward with a finger. They complied and strode across the room, boots clopping, to where Lord Egglewort sat at his high table in his stained undergarments, thick bags under his eyes. The guards carrying Larry put him down before Lord Egglewort, bowed and left them alone.

  Lord Egglewort licked his lips. ‘My my, what’s this treat. I do hope you bring good news… uh, Edrick was it?’

  ‘Eric, my Lord. From Beast Be Gone.’

  ‘Ah, that’s right. You were supposed to sort out a dragon problem for me?’

  Eric chose his words carefully. ‘Indeed I was my Lord, dragon won't be a problem no more.’

  Lord Egglewort cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘Unfortunately, uh, I’ve got a bit of bad news for you. I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure I can reward you… just now. Seems I’ve come into a little financial crisis.’

  Eric gritted his teeth. It was as if the whole world wanted him ruined. His face flushed and he scowled, ready to scream at the pompous oaf. He caught Rose’s eye and she gave him a calming smile. He relaxed his jaw and shuffled his feet. ‘What do you mean, my Lord?’

  Lord Egglewort glanced down at his miserable outfit, tugging at a hole in the vest. ‘I’m sure you saw those fiends from Geiston & Geiston. These property taxes are ruining me. I’m sure they hired actors to make offers on my fort of absurdly high sums. Of course the offers vanished when I tried to accept. But that’s all Geiston & Geiston needed, that is the fort's new value, and a fat slice of it must be paid to The King.’

  Lord Egglewort should never have rejected the tax protection package he’d offered him. ‘Bunch of sharks.’

  Lord Egglewort continued his whimpering. ‘And on top of that, this adventuring craze just won’t go away. I haven't any useful loyal subjects left, only the elderly and infirm. Everyone else is running off, plundering temples and looting goblin nests. There’s no-one left to till the fields, milk the cows or harvest the grain.’ He let out a sigh, a single tear rolling down his cheek. ‘But The King still wants his dues. So I have to sell everything to pay up. I’m ruined.’ He produced a handkerchief and blew his swollen nose.

  ‘I suppose you won’t be renovating that fort anymore either?’

  Lord Egglewort hung his head. ‘Sylvia was very cross about that. The budget she wanted was astronomical too. I can’t afford such luxuries.’

  Eric clenched his fists. That meant no commission from Sylvia either. He only had one hope left to redeem anything from this disastrous situation. ‘Well, funny you should say that, my Lord. You see, we may be able to help you on the adventurer front.’

  Lord Egglewort sat up a little straighter, a gleam in his eye. ‘Oh, really? How so?’

  ‘In fact there never was any dragon to begin with. One of your “loyal” townsfolk had been making the whole thing up.’

  Lord Egglewort waved a dismissive hand. ‘What of it? I’ll put him in the stocks for a week.’

  ‘I think he’s part of something much bigger, my Lord. Men came and paid him to lure adventurers on a phoney quest.’

  ‘Interesting…’ Lord Egglewort stroked his three chins. ‘Do you have any proof?’

  ‘This mimic here overheard the whole thing, then captured the perpetrator.’ Eric gave Larry a gentle kick.

  Larry snorted awake. ‘What?’ His lid flapped as he spoke. ‘Oh, yeah.’ He leaned forward, lid wide and Old Ted flopped to the cobbled floor. An overpowering smell filled the room. Eric put his hand over his nose.

  Lord Egglewort got up and looked down at the limp body. He stepped forward and gave Old Ted a tap with his toe. ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘Nah, he’s fine,’ said Eric. ‘Just needs a bit of air.’

  Lord Egglewort gave him an incredulous look. ‘I’, pretty sure he’s dead, my boy.’

  Rose knelt down next to the old man’s body and put her fingers on his neck. ‘He’s definitely dead.’

  ‘Oh, hog’s balls.’ Eric turned to Larry and frowned.

  Larry twisted his corners into a shrug. ‘What? Why are you looking at me? I don’t know how much air humans need!’

  ‘Did you give him any air?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  Before Eric had a chance to scold Larry further, Lord Egglewort sat back down at his long-table and groaned. ‘I don’t care for having dead citizens thrown at my feet Eric, so this had better be going somewhere.’

  Rose chimed in, right on cue. She’d been itching to make her speech ever since they’d devised their plan that afternoon. ‘Well, my Lord, we believe that this is part of a large conspiracy. Someone wants adventurers everywhere, and they’re willing to send them on any kind of quest they can muster up. Including inventing dragons.’

  Lord Egglewort’s face illuminated into a radiant smile. ‘Of course! How could I be so blind! This is far too widespread to be a passing fad. Otherwise how on earth could it go on for so long? There shouldn’t be any dungeons left by now.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Rose nodded with satisfaction. ‘Someone must be filling them up with loot and monsters, or making up fake quests such as this dragon.’

  ‘But who?’

  Larry leapt in with surprising cheer. ‘The Old Ted corpse had been going on and on about some Dark Master. Maybe he’s behind it all?’

  Lord Egglewort wriggled with glee. ‘Most excellent! A lead. Right, Eric, I need you to get to the bottom of this Dark Master fellow, then get rid of these adventurers for good.’

  Eric winced. Things were getting out of hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t have some guards or knights who might be able to…?’

  Lord Egglewort tutted. ‘You think I can afford to spare knights and guards in these times Eric? You’re my last hope. I’ll pay you handsomely of course.’

  ‘You ain’t even paid me for the dragon yet.’

  ‘There never was a dragon Eric. Once these adventurers are gone, I can make you all very wealthy and give you plenty of land. A title too if you fancy it.’

  ‘No title. But land I could use.’ Eric imagined building a pub of his own, full of the best beer, fresh-baked pies and homemade stew. Maybe even a few tavern wenches for good measure. He could even run the Beast Be Gone business out of the back and have plenty of room for new traps and cages. He shook his head, letting his dreams tumble into nothingness. How could he possibly expect himself to solve all the world’s problems? He couldn’t even run a successful business. ‘Actually, I’ll pass.’

  Rose turned to him, leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone. ‘Just think Eric, we could finally be rid of adventurers! Don’t you want to at least try?’

  Lord Egglewort coughed to get their attention. ‘Let’s put it this way, Eric. If you don’t try to stop all this adventuring, I’ll be forced to tell The King how you kidnapped and murdered an innocent old man, then threw him at my feet.’

  Eric bowed. ‘Consider it done.’