D-Nine: Protectors of the Crown

Chapter 06

"Why should I? I didn't cheat!" I fumed.
"You don't need the money, do you?" Ronchet whispered.
The banker came closer to Ronchet, resting his sabre on Ronchet's right shoulder. Perspiration started beading my forehead as I spied possible escape routes. My trembling hand rested on the hilt of my handy rapier, ready to draw it when the opportune time came. Brains and brawn are essential for combat and this man certainly had the upper hand in the brawn department, which made up for whatever he lacked in terms of intellect. Thinking this made me sick and my heart thumped almost audibly against my ribs.
"Ronchet," the banker said. He dropped the sabre, and it landed with a loud clank. He opened his arms and embraced Ronchet tightly. It was a comical sight to see these two fully grown men hugging. "Never thought I would be seeing you here, old boy." He glanced at me. "I think I scared your wench." He flashed a genuine smile at me.
"She's not mine," Ronchet said, with an edge of regret.
Confusion slowly replaced my anger and fear. Apparently, these guys had known each other all along. The other patrons of the inn gingerly sheathed their weapons, unsure how long this truce would last. The atmosphere remained tense, lowering the noise level to an all-time low of muted whispers. Everyone remained on high alert in case a fight ensured.
"Please, join me in my private room. Bring your girl along. She is a feisty wench." He led the way up the stairs.
"Why didn't you tell me he was your friend?" I whispered softly, so as not to let anyone hear.
"You didn't ask," came the curt reply.

***

The stench that greeted me as I entered the room was nauseating. Forcing down the bile that rose up my throat and disguising my utter distaste for the state that the room was in, I quietly found a relatively clean place to sit. So it was true that females had a better sense of smell and hygiene.
"Make yourselves comfortable," the banker pig snorted, closing the door behind him.
How can anyone feel comfortable in this pigsty, I thought incredulously, as I contemplated moving back to the common room. Looking at Ronchet, I saw he didn't seem to be affected by the smell. Men living in the Dark Ages must be immune to all sorts of pungent odours.
"Any news?" Ronchet asked, in a serious voice that I'd never heard before.
The banker leaned towards Ronchet and whispered softly as his eyes darted around. "Let's talk in there."
Both left the room and went to a private corner, where they held their little secret meeting behind the locked doors. I was left alone in the stinky room; the overpowering stench made my head spin, escalating the urge to vomit. While I was contemplating my escape from the room to free myself from the choking stench, the room darkened and swirled around me.

***

"You are awake." A familiar female voice spoke.
"Yeah; still alive from the stench, I guess."
"What stench?" a lady in an office suit greeted me.
"Oh, sis. It's you."
"Who were you expecting?"
"You won't believe it if I tell you." I chuckled in embarrassment.
"Good that you can still laugh." She forced a smile, which was betrayed by her tortured expression.
"So you expect me to cry like a girl?" I attempted a joke, and laughed bitterly when I realized how possible that was.
"While you were out cold, we were discussing your next steps in treatment. You need to go for the tumour removal, followed by radiotherapy."
"Yes, oncologist. I don't need you to tell me. I haven't really had enough time to wrap my head around the fact that I have such a debilitating illness and you expect me to make such a decision now?" Pent up frustration poured out like an opening dam.
"The faster the better."
"I don't think a few days will make any difference. Provided I don't go into the other world again."
"I heard from Dr. Peck that you are having hallucinations. He will start you on anti-epileptic and some antipsychotics to decrease the symptoms."
"More medications, thanks." Sarcasm hung thickly on my lips.
"Get some rest. I will talk to Dr. Peck."
"Okay." I replied grudgingly, closing my heavy lids.

***

I felt someone place a cold towel on my forehead.
"It's okay, don't disturb me. Let me sleep." I mumbled incoherently as I floated in and out of sleep.
"You got me worried. You fainted in the room." Ronchet placed his hand on my forehead. "The fever has subsided."
Feeling heat fanning across my face I pulled away from his hand. "I-I'm okay." I stuttered.
"Sleep early. We have to leave at dawn tomorrow." He turned over and picked up a bag. "Oh, here are your winnings from earlier." He pressed the bag into my lap. "Keep them well."

***

The next morning saw both of us on the road again.
Before we set off, the banker, whose name I found was Chunki, gave me a pack of cards. "Here, take these. Sorry for giving you a nasty fright." He gave me a wide, toothless grin.
The journey was as silent as usual. I soon got tired of fiddling with my new pack of cards and I piped, "Your friend is a nice guy."
"Ha! You are the first to call him nice."
My face turned sour at his retort. I decided to stay silent.
"You ruined his setup. He would have gutted you if not for me." Ronchet broke the silence with his surprising revelation.
"You mean he was cheating?"
"One of the players was his partner in crime, helping him ensure that no one could get the three dragons. Your skills must be really good, since you managed to spoil his trap."
A sense of pride bloomed within me, making me feel lightheaded. "Definitely. Card games are easy so long as you calculate the risk correctly," I chimed happily.
"Not for someone like me." He chuckled and went back to being his usual quiet self.

***

The rest of the journey was uneventful, giving me ample time to rest and recharge. We finally arrived at Norhedin City after five days on the road. The city was large but also low and dirty. Most of the buildings were made of wood, and the streets ran with sewage. My nose tried to shut down in protest and really, I wished it would.
Amidst the squalor were dirty peasants, stolid middle-class folks, and, very occasionally, haughty nobles. Soldiers, dressed in purple with a golden dragon emblem sewn onto their tabards, swarmed the main gate of the city.
"Something big must have happened," Ronchet observed.
"Why do you say so?"
"Those are royal guards-commanded by the Queen. For them to be here in full force at this far out city means something really bad has happened."
He turned the cart away from the city.
"I thought we were going there?"
"We are, but I am carrying contraband that I doubt will sit very well with them."
He brought the cart to a house in the middle of the forest to the west. Huge containers were unloaded into the house. It was extremely stuffy and humid. Perspiration rolled down my cheeks.
"Here." A towel was thrown to me. "Wipe yourself off. It's clean."
"Thanks."
"You need to cut out the courtesy. It doesn't blend in with the crowd. People here are not so polite."
"Oh. So I am in a barbaric country?" I hissed under my breath.
"You could say that."
I flushed scarlet on hearing his reply. His sense of hearing was commendable.
Ronchet covered the goods and took a last look around. "Good. Let's go."

*****