Notes: Let's thread in a bit more background plot, hmm? What has Esmerelda been up to lately?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards, Chapter Four, Part Two

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Chapter Four, Part Two

Troublesome Tidings

Hiram walked home by himself not long after lunch. Perhapsit was a sign that he was getting old, or perhaps he was more fatigued by hishomemaking than he’d expected, but interacting with so many people in suchshort order had been exhausting.

Or maybe it was the shouting match at the end.

No matter. Hiram had had worst from better. Hells,he’d lived through torture at the hands of a dark priest of Belitune, the NightMistress of Gowage Keep, and Phlox back when Phlox was Pyrax. He could handle Lollop’sirritable buffoons, even if it meant having to rethink his career goals.

“Stop sighing.”

“I’m not sighing.”

“You are. It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” Hiram shot back, always amused byhow easily riled the elemental was.

Sure enough… “You would be annoying too if it was youronly source of amusement!”

“Are you saying you’re bored?” he asked.

“Terribly so.” Phlox made a pouty sound ofdiscontent. “Is there a theater in Lollop?”

Hiram laughed. “A theater? In a town of less than fivehundred people? No, I sincerely doubt they have a theater, Phlox.”

“Figures,” he said glumly. “What about going for ahunt?”

“We’re trying to lay low right now,” Hiram pointed out asthey walked past their closest neighbor’s home. He could hear the woman of thehouse working in the back, and the babble of a few of their younger childrenplaying together. Market days must be a great relief to her, getting to seethe back of her husband for a time. Then Hiram remembered what Tilly saidabout drinking, and how disappointed she’d been not to make a sale.

Perhaps market days were a mixed blessing for thishousehold.

“Laying low.” Phlox snorted. “You don’t know themeaning of the word. I’m convinced that trouble follows you like plague followsrats.”

“What, that little lark with the mayor? Pssht.”

“I was actually referring to your chance encounter with ayoung man of strange provenance,” Phlox purred, and if he’d intendedit as a distraction…it was working.

“He was a bit strange, wasn’t he?” Hiram mused. The otherman had gone from loud and engaging to quiet and shy as a little field mouse inthe space of a second. Why? Just because of Hiram? Or was he like that witheveryone?

“Very strange. You should have asked Mistress Tate abouthim.”

Hiram hummed thoughtfully. “I wanted to, but I didn’t quiteknow how to bring it up. ‘Tilda, do tell me about the handsome man with brightblue eyes and a changeable demeanor who happened to stumble into me in MasterSpindlestep’s shop.”

“Don’t forget the thick, dark curls that make you want tobury your hand in them,” Phlox added. “Or those shoulders—you could hangyour whole weight off those shoulders and I bet it wouldn’t even phase him.”

Hiram laughed. “I didn’t realize you were such a connoisseurof shoulders, my dear.”

“Are you serious? Do you remember anything aboutmy body’s costume of choice?”

“Oh, right.” Pyrax had affected a very broad silhouette inhis humanoid form, with shoulders stretching almost as wide as he was tall. “Youlooked ridiculous back then.”

“I looked imposing!”

“When you were actively on fire, you did,” Hiram agreed. “Butthat didn’t last long.”

“No. No, it didn’t.” They let their conversation fallinto quiet, and in another few minutes they were back at the homestead. Hiramlooked at it and knew he ought to go inside and ready things for his eveningmeal, perhaps do some more cleaning—he could finally tackle the cellar thistime—or prepare a larger bed in the garden. But…there was something about theitch in his feet that demanded he keep moving. Even in the palace, he’d neverlived a sedentary life. The idea of stopping for more than the shortest breakhad been anathema.

You’re going to have to get over that now you’re settlingin here. Let yourself learn to be still, at last. Let yourself seek contentmentrather than excitement.

Hiram would. He would, honest! Just…not quite yet.

“What say we go visit Esmerelda?”

“Must we?” Phlox asked in a long-suffering tone.

“Yes.” Hiram continued along the path, his mood rising alittle more with every step. Yes, a visit to Esmerelda was just what he needednow. He could tell her about Lollop and his new house, maybe help trim herlonger claws—she could do it herself but she always enjoyed being pampered—andsee if she’d seen anything interesting on the road thus far…

Hiram arrived at the plinth not long later in a very goodmood. That mood quickly evaporated when he took in the scene before him.

Esmerelda lay on her side on the plinth, her stomachdistended, paws akimbo as she snored loud enough to wake the dead. Beside her,head down as it tried to nibble grass around the bit between its teeth, was a—

“That’s an imperial messenger’s horse.”

Hiram blinked in disbelief. “It can’t be.” He hadn’t evenbeen here a week, there was no way he’d been found so quickly.

“Look at the saddle!” Phlox almost shouted. “It’sgot the emperor’s insignia! Look at the saddlebags, the weave of the blanket!This is a messenger’s horse, a fresh one by the look of it.”

“But then where is the—” Oh. Oh no. Hiram turned tothe sleeping sphinx and poked her in the side. “Esme! Esme, wake up!”

“Mmmrr…”

“Esmerelda Shayin, Glorious Burning Desert Star, wake thefuck up right now.” Hiram accompanied his declaration with a harder poketo her side, agilely dodging the lazy paw she lashed out with.

“Oooh,” Phlox whispered with delighted horror. “Youused her full title! She’s going to be ma—”

“Be helpful or be quiet,” Hiram said, watching as Esmereldablinked into wakefulness.

She turned her head to look at him and growled. “I washaving a good dream,” she huffed, “and you woke me up. Brute.”

“Who’s the brute here?” Hiram demanded, gesturing at herbelly. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“It’s not…not what you think it is.”

“No riddles! Did you eat an imperial messenger?”

“Mmmaaaybe,” Esmerelda purred. “But to be fair, he had itcoming.”

“How could he possibly have had it coming?”

“He attacked me first,” she said. “Stopped anddemanded a riddle, like I’m some sort of silly busker and not an avatarof death, then he looked closer and the next thing I knew, bam! He pulled hissword and demanded I tell him the whereabouts of the Wizard Xerome.”

Hiram’s angry words caught in his throat.

“Well, I wasn’t going to have that, so I gobbled him rightup. He twitched for a good five minutes,” she remarked, rubbing one paw acrossher tum. “And then I was tired, so I decided to sleep it off, and then youshowed up out of nowhere and were rude to me for possibly saving your life.You’re welcome.”

“It’s got to be a coincidence,” Hiram muttered. There was noway he’d been found so fast. Even the sharpest magic-sniffer would have a hardtime tracking him right now, with all the obfuscations he’d laid on himself andhis belongings. He went over to the horse and, after disarming the traps meantto keep its contents safe, pulled out a sheaf of notices.

BY ORDER OF EMPERORANDURION SEVALERRE

WANTED: THE WIZARDXEROME.

DO NOT APPROACHDIRECTLY—EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

ANY INFORMATIONDELIVERED TO THE NEAREST IMPERIAL OUTPOST

THAT LEADS TO THESUCCESSFUL CAPTURE OF XEROME WILL BE AWARDED

5000 GOLD SLIPS.

Phlox whistled. “That’s…a lot of money.”

“Yeah,” Hiram agreed hoarsely. “It is.” It was the sort ofmoney that could change a life. There was a sketch of himself at the bottom ofthe notice, and he was pleased to say that it looked very much like how he usedto, and very little like he did now.

The sheer number of notices was reassuring. “He didn’t knowI was here,” Hiram said. “He just got lucky and chose the right road.”

“More like the wrong one.”

“Ugh.” They both turned to look at Esmerelda, who’d gonefrom smugly pleased with herself to frowning. “I feel…I feel…hrrk—” Sheopened her mouth, and a moment later a steaming mess of chainmail, a helmet,and several weapons spilled out onto the road.

“Whew!” She wiped her mouth with a paw. “That’s better!”

“Esme, manners,” Hiram chided her even as he edged away fromthe non-digestible remnants of the messenger. “You could have done that in theforest.” She shrugged.

“Hiram,” Phlox said, “what are we going to do now?”

Hiram took a deep breath and stared down at the depiction ofhis own face. The messenger was likely one of many, the result of Andy notknowing how to let go. There was no way he’d known Hiram lived in Lollop now,but there was also a high likelihood that someone knew where the messengerhad gone. They’d be looking for him, which meant Hiram needed to construct analternate narrative to explain the man’s disappearance.

Bandits. Bandits was good, there were always bandits about.But he needed to make sure the “incident” occurred far from here, at leasttwenty miles distant. That meant taking the horse and backtracking, all whilemaintaining a foolproof disguise so that he wasn’t discovered by accident.

Shit. This was going to take all day.

“Bury that,” Hiram said, pointing at the gooey equipment.

Esmerelda frowned. “Tell Phlox to burn it.”

“It’s metal, Esme, it won’t burn quickly and we don’t havethat kind of time. Just bury it.” He put a polite smile on his face. “Please.”

“Oh, fine.” She slunk ungraciously off her plinth. “Not evena thank you,” she muttered.

She had a point. “Thank you for looking out for me,” Hiramsaid. “I genuinely do appreciate it. We’re just fortunate no one saw thehorse—” or you after eating that man “—and started asking questionsbefore I could get here. Please, contact me the next time this happens and I’llcome right away.”

Esmerelda paused, then inclined her head. “I shouldn’t havefallen asleep,” she admitted. “Are you going to ride the horse away?”

“I am.” But first, Hiram had to go and get Mule because hewas going to need someone to ride back on, never mind that Mule loathedimperial mounts more than almost anything after the trauma he’d been through asa foal…

Forget all day, Hiram was going to be lucky to finish thisin a single night.