The Non-Human Society

The scent was familiar.

How was it even after all this time… all these years… this smell still lingered?

I didn’t close the door behind me, but that was because a large man was already in motion to do so. It shut solidly, locking in the disgusting air into the building.

Looking around, I counted the people. The ones on the floor, passed out. The ones in a cage in the corner. The three women sitting at a table, counting coins. The two large men peering at me in silence, sitting at a counter.

The ones not drugged up, nor beaten into submission, all looked at me… but no one moved. No one said anything.

Was I going to have to make a scene or…?

I did not.

Appearing from behind a hallway wall, a tall thin man approached me quickly. He had a soft smile, and his eyes studied me as I had just studied his den.

“What can I offer you today, good-sir?” the man asked once close enough. I noticed he didn’t get too close to me.

I studied him for a moment, and wondered if this was what some of the Societies members saw sometimes when they looked at me.

A man who thought he was above everyone and everything. Even though he himself was small. Even though he himself was frail and worthless.

“Shall we speak where the air isn’t so thick?” I asked him, putting a little bit of disdain into my voice. Not just because I didn’t like the smell of old sex and drugs, but also to imply a point.

The thin man smirked a little, and then nodded. “This way, sir,” he said, and turned on a heel.

Following him, I ignored the two large men who followed us down a hallway. One had been the man who had closed the door behind me.

It didn’t take long for me to get guided to a far more normal room. One that smelled of incense, and was clean. It was large, and was full of higher end furniture. The type found in the houses of nobles.

There was even a window, even though it wasn’t open.

Quite a statement, to have such a room in the slums. Especially in a building made of wood and held together with mud.

Only one of the large men entered behind me and the thin man, the other remained outside.

“Please, sir,” the thin man offered me a seat in a large couch. He himself took a seat across from the couch, into a thin wooden chair. A plain one, without decoration.

It didn’t belong in this room.

Yet, it made the point clear. The chair didn’t belong, and neither did he. At least not in this room of comforts and wealth.

As he sat in it, I stayed standing. He smiled at me as he continued to study me, seemingly amused that I had refused his offer for a seat.

There was no reason for me to feed his amusement. I wasn’t in the mood to play his weird games.

“My master has heard of a recent… seizure. I’m sure you heard of it?” I asked him, choosing to find out if he was going to be legitimate or not.

The thin man’s smile got wider, and he nodded. “I have. I hear the paintings were vivid and detailed,” he said.

Good. Although weird, he was at least what he pretended to be.

“My master would be very happy to come into possession of… those vivid pictures,” I said.

The large man behind me, standing in front of the door, shifted his weight. For a small moment I thought he was about to attack me, but then I saw the smile slowly die on the thin man’s face.

“To be frank… and to respect your master… I am sorry but I’m unable to aid you in the acquisition of any paintings,” he said stiffly.

Frowning, I studied the look on his face. The sweat that begun beading on his forehead was fresh.

That wasn’t from drugs, or alcohol. Nor heat, since this place was somewhat cold.

He was worried.

“If it is a matter of price… my master is beyond such limits,” I said, crossing my hands behind my back.

The man cleared his throat, and stood from the chair that didn’t belong. He seemed to have wobbly feet for a moment, as if drunk. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m neither in possession of any of the paintings, nor will I ever be… most likely,” he said.

Watching the man’s face, and the sad smile that was slowly dying on it… I realized he was being serious.

He wasn’t trying to hide anything from me… he was actually worried about something. Worried and sad. Regretful.

“Not even willing to entertain the idea?” I asked him.

The man sighed and then his smile disappeared completely. Suddenly I was talking to the man, and not the persona he tried to pretend to be. “The ones who seized those paintings are the Knights of Carvill… the only honest knights in this whole damned city,” he said.

The man behind me nodded his head.

“Honestly sir, I’d love to entertain it. A single one of those paintings would be worth a handful of penk if I got them to the capital. But the Carvill knights can’t be bribed. Can’t be threatened. Can’t be killed. I lose men to them all the time, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it,” the thin man said, suddenly becoming a little whiny.

“I see,” I said.

“I was kind of hoping your master was going to offer to sell me some of them, to be honest…” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Regrettable,” I said.

Truly it was.

Yet now I knew more. So this wasn’t all a waste.

“Sorry sir. Please inform your master that I deeply regret not being able to be of service… truly. Honestly,” he repeated that word again, and I wondered if it was one of the few words he knew to convey such a thing.

I believed the man, even if he sounded desperate to be believed.

After all, he wasn’t even trying to get a fee out of me. Wasn’t even pretending to be willing to try for a few coins.

Either I had found the only honest slumlord in town, or he was actually this scared of those knights.

Knights of Carvill…

With a sigh I nodded. “I understand. I shall endure to inform my master. Here, for your honesty,” I pulled out the small bag of coins I had prepared. The one I had intended to use no matter his answer.

The man didn’t hesitate to take the bag, but upon feeling the weight of it he suddenly grew a conscious. “Sir… this is too much,” he said softly. Looking as if I had just smacked him.

“As I said, my master is beyond such things,” I said.

“Ah… I thank your master,” speaking humbly as he lifted the small bag of coins.

Turning, I wasn’t too surprised to find the door already being opened for me.

This time the two large men not only guided me to the exit, but bowed their heads to me as I left.

Leaving the building, I ignored the odd look of the beggars who had been standing guard. They weren’t sure if they should draw their hidden blades, or beg me for change.

Lucky for them they ignored me.

This was troubling.

Honestly I had hoped it had been the Primdoll family. But that would of course had been too convenient. Yet for it also to not have been a merchant, or some lower noble to have been the ones tasked with collecting the unpaid taxes… but some kind of knight order instead?

Knights of Carvill? I had no idea who they were, or what they represented… but the fact that they had scared that thief lord well enough that he hadn’t even considered the idea of taking my job offer was unsettling.

“Waste of men,” I said lowly as I left the slums.

Ignoring the eyes on me as I walked through the grimy, dirt packed roads; I tried to formulate a plan for my next step.

Finding these Knights of Carvill wasn’t that difficult. Odds are they had their own barracks somewhere in town. It’d take me only a few hours to find them.

But I needed to also find out who owned them. Were they owned by the Lord of Ruvindale? The nobles? The church?

For that thief to be so afraid of them, told me it wasn’t the Lord of this town or the nobles at all.

“The church then,” I grumbled.

Yet that begged the question as to why the church wasn’t in an uproar. Would knights known, and feared, for their dutifulness hide such paintings from their masters and lords? Their priests and clergy?

After a few minutes I finally began to approach the stone buildings and roads again. The stink of the slums wasn’t as bad here, but I knew it’d linger on my clothes for some time.

“Least of my worries,” I said. At least for now.

Even though Renn might complain…

Thinking of her, I frowned and went to searching for her. I had asked her to remain out of the slums, but to stay nearby so I could find her and…

There she was.

Waiting. Like always.

She got so anxious. So worried, when she waited… and she voiced her complaints often. Rather she showed her annoyances with glares and scowls when she complained that we weren’t being active enough in our task… But…

For as much as she hated it, she always waited patiently when I asked her to.

Seeing her at a distance, alone, it reminded me of her nature.

Cats stood like that. Alone. Watching, and waiting. Waiting for things no one knew existed.

Approaching her, I decided not to sneak up on her again. Although it was fun to see her expression, and watch her jump in surprise, she looked a little too sad right now for me to entertain myself at her expense.

Stepping onto the stone road, and off the dirt one, I watched her hat. It didn’t shift, even as her head hurriedly turned to look at me.

She smiled at the sight of me, and I almost hesitated. Almost paused mid-step.

“Fool,” I whispered at myself.

She was simply excited to learn if I had good news.

Nothing more.

Renn ran up to me, hurriedly enough that a few onlookers had stared for a moment. They probably saw a young wife, glad to see her husband return from the slums finally. Glad to see he wasn’t fumbling and tripping over drunken feet.

“Well?” she asked, hopeful.

Not just hopeful… apprehensive.

She was obviously happy to have learned that she hadn’t been the direct cause… but now she felt she had a duty. An almost too deep belief that she needed to help me right the wrongs that had been committed here. To the point that it was almost akin to a religious faith.

A part of me was glad for it. It meant she herself was the exact kind of person we needed in our Society. The type we desperately needed… but…

“The thieves here are unable to procure the paintings. They said they’re in the possession of some kind of knight order. The kind that scares even the wicked,” I explained.

“Knights…” she mumbled, going into thought.

“By the sounds of it,” I started, and reached out to guide her away from the dirt road that led to the slums. There was no point in us staying here. Especially since I didn’t want the smell to linger on her. “The special type. The extreme type,” I finished as we went to walking.

She stayed nearby, allowing me to keep my hand on her lower back. Either she no longer minded it, or was too lost in thought to even notice. “The dutiful type,” she added. Glancing at her, she smiled softly at me. “I knew one. Remember the children I spoke of? Lujic ended up becoming a knight.”

Frowning, I tried to remember what she spoke of… but I only remembered her mentioning that she had lived with human children for a time.

“Lujic?” I asked.

She nodded. “The older brother. Became one to protect his younger sister. He was… a good man,” she explained.

Ah. The ones she had helped raise.

Wonder if that was the one who died early.

“Yes, well… in my experience the more dutiful they are, the harder it is to get them to do anything we want them to,” I said.

She nodded, seemingly in full agreement.

“But, the more devout they are…” I smiled as I stared at the woman on my arm.

“Hm?” she waited for me to continue, but I didn’t yet.

She was perfect.

Her beauty. Her smile. Her age…

“What?” she asked softly.

First I needed to get her some clothes… and then…

“That’s an odd look on you,” she then said, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oddly, I think it’ll look great on you,” I said.

“Huh?”

I ignored her confusion as I guided her to the center marketplace. To the shop Lomi and I had visited.

The high end clothes shop, for nobles.

Time to let her earn her keep.