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[Villian] Book 2 - Chapter 18: (Interlude) An Oshal Spy
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 05:52:05 +0000 UTCAs springtime began to grace the wastelands, a convoy of carriages was on the move.
“Milady,” a voice insisted and shook a sleeping woman. “Milady, wake up!”
“Wha—?”
The old man shook her shoulder. “Milady, we have arrived at Blackthorn.”
The woman rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes. “All right, all right, I got it, hands off me.”
The man stepped back with fear in his eyes. “Milady, I can hear noises from the front; they seem to be doing checks.”
The woman cocked her head. “Checks? Is this not a farming village?”
Shaking his head, the old man gestured outside. “Milady should take a look. I believe something happened here since I last visited.”
The woman was confused but sluggishly left her bundle of clothes and straightened her spine. Then, after an audible pop, she felt better. She looked around for her makeup but couldn’t find it. “Patrick.”
The old man stopped looking out the back of the carriage and turned back to his employer. “Yes, milady?”
“Where is my bag?”
“Oh, right here.” The old man crouched down and retrieved a box. “Here is the makeup.”
The woman accepted it with two hands and carefully opened the lid; inside were multiple wigs and some powder for lightening her skin. She quickly hid her short blond hair with skilled movements, replaced it with a typical brown wig, and applied some white chalk to her cheeks.
“How do I look?” she questioned Patrick, and he nodded in appreciation.
“Milady looks like a Kassinki native.”
“Excellent!” The woman clapped her hands and shoved the box under the bundle of clothing. “Now let me see this village you are talking about.” She winced as she walked; spending a week travelling from Marquess Cunningdal’s territory to Blackthorn had been a terrible experience. But orders were orders.
The fresh springtime air felt raw on her powdered face; she pushed the horsehair wig behind her ear and looked up at the line of carriages. Sure enough, as Patrick had said, a group of men with red eyes sown on their vests were doing checks. Their clothing was of decent quality. “The mayor’s private guards, perhaps?” the woman mused as she set her eyes past the guards.
“Well, that’s unusual,” she murmured at the sight of ten-meter-high gray stone walls surrounding a vast town. Knights in full plate armor patrolled the walls alongside men wearing leather armor with the same red-eye insignia.
The woman suddenly understood the bizarre nature of her mission. A crumpled picture of a black-haired noble woman appeared in her mind. “Fay Karles…how interesting,” she muttered as the guards approached.
She quickly checked that her enchanted earrings, which hid her magical signature, were in place. As a sentinel of Oshal working directly for Asmodeus Henson, she naturally had magic, but for covert operations, appearing as mundane as possible was preferred.
“Good morning, miss; my name is Dave, and this is Ben. We are the Overseers of Blackthorn and have come to do a light inspection if that is okay with you?”
The two men had shining swords strapped to their waists. Dave appeared to be the leader, and his Red Eye insignia had three fangs below it, while Ben only had one.
The woman acted as meek and unassuming as possible. “G-greetings, gentlemen. My name is Charlotte; f-feel free to look around.”
Charlotte did an awkward curtsy and moved to the side.
Dave waited outside with Charlotte while Ben, wearing a poncho over his leather armor and sandals, climbed into the carriage and questioned Patrick while doing a brief check-over.
Charlotte gave brief and nervous glances at Dave. He was well built, average height, with a clean-shaven beard and that older uncle look. Finally, Dave noticed her and asked, “Miss…Charlotte, was it?”
Charlotte nodded.
“Sorry, I am terrible with names.” Dave chuckled before continuing. “What brings you so far north?”
Charlotte already had a cover story prepared. “I came seeking work; rumors of civil war have also reached some people’s ears. I heard Blackthorn was a nice farming village, but it appears some things have changed since?”
“Aye, it has,” Dave said wistfully. “Ever since Duke Nightshade took over this rundown place…the town has only expanded and grown. You said you came looking for work?”
“Yes, I have,” She said in a sad tone to garner sympathy, “I don’t know anybody here, so I am at a loss of what to do.”
Dave grinned. “Well, lass, the Mirage Inn is rather good, and it’s right next to the guild. If you want a high-paying job, that’s the best place to look.” A slight blush crossed the middle-aged man’s face. “With your looks, even being a maid in the lord’s castle may be on the table!”
Charlotte struggled to hold back her enthusiasm. “Thank you for the advice.”
She stiffened as Ben began rummaging through her pile of clothes, but he paused when he reached a layer of lingerie. Chuckling, he put all the clothes back, dropped from the carriage, and looked between the two. “This is the last carriage, and it seems clear. Should I leave you two love birds alone?”
Dave smacked his subordinate on the head. “You buffoon! Forgive this imbecile, Miss Charlotte, and enjoy your stay.”
Dave turned on his heel and waved to Charlotte before walking back up the line of carriages.
“Very interesting,” Charlotte said before climbing into the carriage as it began to move.
“Is Milady satisfied?” Patrick commented as she slumped back onto her pile of clothes.
“Yes, I appreciate the help, Patrick.” She tossed a gold coin at the older man, and he caught it.
After confirming its authenticity, his eyes shined with greed, but he quickly bowed to her. “I thank the lady for her hospitality; I’ll leave now and never speak of this partnership until I meet my maker!”
Charlotte smiled lightly and shooed him off. Shame I have to kill him; he was rather funny, she thought as the carriage passed under Blackthorn’s walls.
She was surprised at the sight from the back of the carriage. Men and women roamed the stone streets in decent clothing; they seemed joyful as they went about their daily lives. Walkways overhead were busy with foot traffic, allowing the convoy of carriages to move through the center of Blackthorn town unimpeded.
As the carriages got closer to the center, the houses became taller and exclusively made of stone. The number of people wearing uniforms increased and made Charlotte a little uneasy. She had assumed this would be an easy mission: find Fay Karles in Blackthorn and smuggle her back to Oshal.
According to the intelligence, Fay Karles was an orphaned ex-Noble with no backing possibly residing in a forgotten farming village in the far north. Duke Henson applied top priority to this mission, so she made her move immediately after receiving the instructions. “Support should be arriving soon,” she muttered as she clutched a green communication stone hidden in her pocket.
With a jerk, the carriage came to a stop.
“ALL RIGHT, LADS, GET THE WARES UNLOADED BY THE EVENING!”
Charlotte grabbed her bundle of belongings and made a quick exit. Before any workers could question why a random woman had been stowed away on the supply carriage, she disappeared into the crowded streets.
Entering a back alley, she retrieved a pipe and, after lighting it, began to inhale. The mist she exhaled seemed to swim around her form and distort her image. She then started to sprint at an inhuman speed despite her cumbersome baggage. The wind whistled through her wig as she dashed down the alley. A few residents felt a sudden gust of wind and looked around in confusion.
Charlotte leaped over crates, ran along the walls, and slid between horses’ legs. Eventually, she reached her target, standing in the back doorway of an old bakery and having a casual conversation with another man.
“Are you sure, Patrick? Was she wealthy and traveling alone?”
The old man nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Not only that, mate, but she also had a beautiful body! We can do anything we want to her; she’s of Oshal descent and carries makeup around—” A gust of wind went past, and his head brutally impacted the doorframe, leaving a gaping dent in his skull.
The inn owner gasped as his friend slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood.
A second later, he got a hold of himself and screamed at the top of his lungs, “HEY! MURDER!”
Within seconds, a woman clad in a black robe with purple hair over her eyes appeared from the shadows. A tiny pink spider rested on her shoulder and curiously looked around. The woman looked at the scene with cold eyes and asked the startled man, “What happened here?”
***
Charlotte escaped the scene with utmost caution and ensured she wasn’t followed. Her pipe was hot in her hands, so she shut it off and stowed it away, and the cloud of mist surrounding her dissipated into the wind.
After asking a few locals for directions, she stumbled upon an inn. She naturally avoided the Mirage Inn as it was recommended by a guard, and she didn’t wish to bump into that Dave fellow if possible; he eyed her a little too obviously, and relationships got in the way of work.
The establishment was a little run down and seemed to have missed out on the renovations many of the surrounding buildings had enjoyed, but it appeared quiet and ideal for her covert operations.
Charlotte passed the half-decaying sign with Gentle Hill written in Kassinki script and went inside. It was clean and tidy inside but entirely dead.
A hearty old lady was working the bar and beamed as she walked in. “Lass! Welcome!”
Charlotte returned a weary smile and ensured her bloodstained blade was well hidden. She dumped her stuff on the floor next to a barstool and sat with a dramatized sigh. “Hello.” She put on her kindest and most natural smile. “Any chance I could get a nice clean room for seven nights?”
“Certainly! That will be one gold, meals included!”
Charlotte winced at the price but passed her two gold. “I am new around here, looking for the latest gossip.”
The large lady chuckled, took both coins and hid them under the desk; she leaned over and whispered, “You are playing a dangerous game, lassie.” The lady said, and stealthily gestured toward the window. “This town isn't as simple as it seems.”
On the windowsill was a pink spider staring straight at her.
The lady whispered, “Lass, the duke is magnanimous to the loyal and ruthless against traitors. I’d avoid him and his entourage as much as possible.”
Charlotte took her eyes off the tiny spider and nodded, her fake wig shifting on her head. She reached between her breasts to retrieve a crumpled piece of paper and made sure to block the paper’s contents from the spider’s view with her body.
“Ever seen a girl that looks like her?” she whispered as she pushed the paper across the bar.
The older lady scrutinized the paper. Under the dim afternoon light, it was hard to make out, but she grinned, showing her missing teeth. “This lass, aye, I’ve seen her before. She’s the duke’s wife.”
Her eyes turned serious, and she hissed, “Lass, I don’t know your purpose for coming here, but that one is off-limits. Yer hear me?”
Charlotte nodded in agreement and put on a warm smile that put the old lady at ease. The innkeeper sighed and leaned back. “Anything to eat, lass?”
“Yes, please.”
The innkeeper wandered off into the back to cook, and Charlotte smiled. She had only just arrived and already knew the likely location of Fay—at the dukes side. Tomorrow she would go to the guild in search of a job. Preferably one that allowed her to work for the duke in some way. Working as a maid would be ideal, Charlotte pondered as her stomach rumbled. It had been a long day.
