Frenzy & Torch

Chapter 5: The Worm

"Son of a whore!" A hammer fist smacked the table, rattling all the saucers and teacups.

"What is it, Dich?" asked a timid cultist through the darkness of his robe.

Dich Hedd, leader of the Woken Eye Rebellion, was seated at an old long table accompanied by thirty of his closest advisors. He was a man of average height and lean build with an unkempt head of black hair and hazel eyes. His followers were all clad in purple robes bearing his insignia—an open eye with flowers in place of the lashes. They were busy discussing if two plus two really equaled four or if that was only a social construct to keep the population under control when Dich had a mental flash of fire and a sword hacking away at people.

"Two councilwomen have arrived, and they're going to be here tomorrow evening. My goddamned vision won't tell me more than that. It's a toss-up as to whether we win or lose."

"A toss-up, sire?" said the hooded figure at the far side of the table.

"We've managed to fight off the local watchmen and assassins so far, and our skill is superb, but council-members are a whole different level. We need to ramp up our defenses!"

"Well, where are they now?"

"They're at an inn."

"Then we can kill them in their sleep."

"That's... actually a good idea. It's cheap and horrible, but good nonetheless. Who can we send that's inconspicuous?"

"We can send Roger."

"The shape-shifter?" Dich shivered. "That guy is a weird one, but I guess we'll have to settle for him. Somebody go fetch him from his chamber at once."

One of the men pushed his seat back and walked out of the room. Dich watched him leave, then turned to the others. "By the way, does anybody know why Roger is a shape-shifter to begin with? I mean, what species is he?"

"He's a commoner just like us, Dich," said the senior hooded figure. "He claims his shape-shifting ability is a birth defect."

"That's one hell of a birth defect," Dich said. "I have a hard time believing that, but with how weird things have been lately, I guess anything flies."

The cultist returned seconds later with Roger in tow. The pale ginger was munching on a corn on the cob.

"I found him in the kitchen looking for something to eat," the cultist said.

"I don't give a fuck, I'll eat all this shit and your liver," Roger muttered.

Dich cleared his throat. "Roger, we have a little problem that could potentially topple us. I don't need to reiterate how important this movement is."

"Nah, you made it pretty clear." Roger flashed back to Dich recruiting him—thirty minutes of ranting about government oppression, vomiting, and then summoning birds with a lute. And people said he was weird. "What do you require of me?"

"I want you to sneak into the town inn and kill two girls in their sleep."

"..."

"Okay, I can see how context is needed. They are two councilwomen arriving tomorrow evening who will absolutely fuck us in the ass."

Roger spit out a mouthful of corn. "They're white-boots?? Aw, shit, Mr. Hedd, you pissed off the wrong people."

"Exactly why I want you to kill them while they're catching Z's. That's the only time we can actually dispose of them."

"Wouldn't that make the Council send more, though?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Wait a couple hours, then head into town and do the job. I'd say wait until about two or two-thirty in the morning."