Tycoon May: Chapter 38

Chapter 38

As Grant drew closer, he was tempted to shout for Sam, Adria, or even Evander.  Something about the abandoned wagons told him it would be a bad idea.  The draft animals stood there placidly in their harness, waiting for a command from drivers who were nowhere in sight.  Without making it obvious, Grant tried to take a closer look, but he noticed several people in plain clothes that stood stiffly, like they had armor on under their regular clothes, carefully watching for anyone approaching the wagons.

Instead of walking up to the convoy, Grant crossed the street and turned down a wide alley lined with vendors still setting up for the day.  He leaned against a rain gutter, doing his best to conceal his face as he took his time to eat the loaf of bread he had taken from the inn.  It quickly became obvious that something had happened to the rest of the people on his wagon train, and whoever had captured or killed them was waiting for more members of the group to show up.

<My bet is they were captured.  You can’t question a corpse.  Plus, there’s no blood or signs of a struggle.>  Grant tapped his sword hilt in silent agreement, carefully checking over the street without trying to make it obvious that was exactly what he was doing.  <Look up, at the windows across the street.  Does that seem familiar?>  Sarge highlighted a pair of windows that had been propped open, and the occasional glint of metal from inside gave away the crossbows pointed at the wagons.  <It’s either the same crew that attacked Chug, or one that uses similar tactics.  My bet is on House Saturday showing their ugly faces again.>

“Well, if it is House Saturday, that gives us an edge.  They still think I’m dead.”  Grant carefully thought about what his next steps should be.  He could always just walk out the gate and head to the next city on his own.  If they were still alive, Sam, Adria, and the others would be released as soon as he defeated Tycoon May.  It was the safest option for everyone involved, beyond the added difficulties it would mean for him to get to the next city.  He didn’t even know where they were being kept, or even if they were still in this area.  Taking the time to follow one of the people watching the wagons could take all day, which would slow him down even more.  If he took that kind of delay, it could mean he wasn’t there when Chug and his men—

A commotion near the wagons caught his attention.  “Where is everybody?  Hello?  Oh, who are you?  Wait, don’t touch me!”  The Wrecking sisters came out of nowhere, breaking his train of thought, and instantly creating a scene.  One of the guards hiding in plain clothes had tried to grab them as they got close, and it immediately turned into a brawl.  Grant went to join them, when Sarge’s voice stopped him.

<No.  Look.  It’s already too late.>  Grant wanted to protest, but Sarge was right.  The streets were filled with warriors, all of them piling onto the sisters.  They didn’t stand a chance, even if he did join them, and that wasn’t even mentioning the hidden crossbows that had yet to join in the fighting.  It would most certainly turn into a running retreat if he attacked, and there was no way he could guarantee that they might escape with him.  Bystanders weren’t happy about what was happening, but no one was brave enough to step in and stop what was happening.  The sisters fought on, even though it was a losing battle.  <When they’re captured, follow them, and see where they take them.  I bet we’ll find the others.>

Instantly liking the idea, Grant quickly made his way deeper into the alley until he was out of sight of the main street.  He climbed up the side of a building to the roof, and used his new vantage point to get a better view of where they might be taking the sisters.  They fought for another few minutes, but were eventually worn down by sheer numbers.  The fighters they had wounded, along with an escort that tied the sisters' hands behind their backs, started marching as a group along the inner border of the wall.

Annoyingly—yet thankfully—it wasn’t far.  Grant watched as they were forced into a guard tower only a few blocks down from the gate, and they disappeared out of sight the moment the heavy wooden door slammed closed.

<Well, it looks to me like House Saturday and the city guards know about one another.  That makes them all fair game.>  Grant grunted in agreement, already thinking about how he might get inside.  The main gate had most of the guards, and the wagons still held most of House Saturday’s attention.  There wasn’t going to be a better time for him to try and break his people free, but breaking down the door to the tower would make enough noise that the guards and ambushers would hear it and come to investigate.  <You can get in through the upper floors of the tower.  All you need to do get on top of the wall without them noticing.>

“And all I need to do is jump the gap, or climb a wall without being seen.”  Grant gauged the distance in annoyance, knowing the distance between the rooftop and the tower was too big for him to jump.  It was at least another story and a half higher than the roof he was on, not to mention a street away.  He wasn’t quite strong enough.  The occasional guard walking up and down the length of the wall wasn’t too much of a concern, but they would certainly spot him in the time it would take for him to reach the top.  “How am I supposed to pull this off?  I don’t want to wait all day until nightfall.”

<Well, there is one ability you have that might help.  You just have to hope it’s enough to get you to the top.>

“You mean Adjusted Air Friction.”  Grant took a moment to pull up the skill description.

Adjusted Air Friction: Adjust the amount of friction you have with the air around you.  Run with reduced wind resistance, or slow yourself to a crawl.  Cannot be used without the wielded weapon in hand.  Ability scales with Armor Cultivation levels. Caution: May cause a discharge of lightning.

“I don’t know if I can pull it off without using Thundering Step to help, and the lightning show from that would certainly bring down all kinds of attention.”  Grant knew that he could create enough condensed friction on the bottom of his foot that it could hold his weight for a split second, allowing him to jump off of it, but he had never tried it without using Thundering Step at the same time.  The speed boost it provided made the time he put his weight on the spot of air miniscule, but replicating it without the lightning spell would be nearly impossible.

<You don’t know if you don’t try.  Besides, if the worst comes to pass, you can always run away and free them all when you’re in charge.>

“That’s… actually a good point.”  Grant knew that captivity for them wouldn’t be a good thing, and he promised to make it as short a stay in prison as possible if that’s what came to pass.  He pushed aside the thoughts of failure, focusing on what would happen if he did everything right.  If he didn’t make a mistake, then his people were free today.  He liked that option much better.  Envisioning what he needed to do, Grant took a few practice jumps to the rooftops on either side of him.  It was much easier considering they were at the same height, but something was better than nothing.  “Okay, here I go.”

Backing all the way up to give him a running start, Grant sprinted for all he was worth, using Adjusted Air Friction to cut down on any wind resistance.  As he leapt off the edge of the roof, he used Iaijutsu to unsheathe his sword, combining the skill with Oleander Thrust to give him a ten percent boost to his speed.  At the apex of his leap, Grant focused all of his willpower on forcing Adjusted Air Friction into the smallest, most dense spot possible under his leading foot.  He pushed off with all his strength, shouting in victory as the tiny disk of hardened air held just long enough for him to extend his leap.

It still wasn’t enough.

Grant’s shout of victory turned into a groan of pain as he slammed into the wall hard enough to shake dust free.  His vision went double as he started to peel away, falling backward toward the street below.

<Use me!  Use your pick!  Don’t give up!>  Sarge’s shout cut through the haze of the minor concussion Grant was suffering from, and he somehow managed to stab his Uchigatana into the mortar between two stones.  It started slipping almost immediately, the weapon poorly suited to holding his weight in a situation like he had found himself.  Somehow, he managed to pull free his pickaxe, and stabbed its point into the wall above his head.  It held, and he let out a sigh of relief.  <Hurry.  That’s going to catch the attention of someone.  And next time, we should probably take off the incredibly heavy pouch weighing you down before you jump across a really large gap.>

Grant looked at his belt where his pouch of riches hung and sighed, mentally kicking himself before looking back up at the top of the wall.  He had been close, despite accidentally handicapping himself.  A few quick swings of his pick and he was on top of the wall, crouched next to the door of the tower.  The unlocked door.

It was time to save his friends.