Merchant Crab

Short bandits, tall bandits, skinny bandits, chubby bandits. Bandits of all types and shapes. Some were bald, some had long beards. Most were wearing leather, a few chose steel armor. Everywhere the crab looked, there was another bandit to add to the count.

The room was awkwardly silent as the goons all stared at the intruders, seemingly in disbelief that someone had just walked in there like that.

Long tables and benches filled most of the hall, which appeared to have been turned into a clandestine tavern. At the back was an old wooden counter with several kegs next to it, and a mustached man in a white shirt and suspenders behind them, halfway through wiping a tankard with his rag.

“Uh… hiii?” Balthazar said with a pained expression. “We’re, uh… with the…”

“I swear,” Olivia whispered while leaning closer to the crab, “if you say Bandit Rights Association, I’ll join these guys when they start kicking your shell.”

One of the lowlifes sitting closer to a window stood up, opened the shutter, and poked his head out.

“Hey, Grog is out there on the ground!” he yelled. “They beat him up!”

The quiet room suddenly burst into yelling, shouting, and other loud noises as chairs and tables dragged against the floor, the bandits all standing up and grabbing their weapons.

“They look mad,” the Marquessa girl said with a wince.

“Yeah, if only someone hadn’t beat up their lookout and instead let me talk my way inside peacefully!” the annoyed merchant said.

“Usually my method works!” said the young woman. “Hey, kid, any idea how we can—Where did she go?!”

Spinning his eyestalks around, Balthazar realized Suze was nowhere to be seen, despite having been right next to them a few seconds before.

“Did that little rascal just ditch us?!”

“Never mind that,” Olivia hurriedly said. “We have bigger problems right now!”

A couple dozen bandits were encircling the woman and crab, with knives, clubs, and chains in hand as they angrily closed in.

“Oi!” a voice loudly yelled from the back of the room.

A door opened on the opposite side of the tavern hall, and a pungent smell of frying onions wafted into the room like a revolting cloud that made the crab and the girl gag. Through it came a balding man with an unfriendly face, wearing dark leather armor and a short cloak.

“I take it that’s Onion Jake?” Balthazar muttered, trying to grab at something on his face before remembering he didn’t have a nose to pinch.

“Yes, that’s him,” replied Olivia, looking at the crab with watery eyes. “If you still had any doubts about why people call him that.”

“Nobody is laying a finger on ‘em,” the bandit chief said in a heavy accent, stepping through the crowd of ruffians with a mean frown. “They’re mine.”

The other bandits obliged and stepped aside as their leader walked towards the intruders. He looked surprisingly short once up close, with even the baroness’s niece standing a good two or three fingers taller than him.

“You two,” he said to the young woman and the crab. “You coming with me. We gonna us have us a little chat.”

After signaling for them to follow him, Onion Jake turned back towards the door he had come from.

“But boss,” said one of the watching bandits, “they beat up Grog outside. Shouldn’t we at least break a few of their bones?”

Balthazar raised his pincer slightly. “Actually, crabs don’t have bo—”

“Not the time!” Olivia muttered between grinding teeth, after elbowing the side of the merchant’s shell.

The gang leader turned his gaze to the young thug who had spoken up, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“I decide if and when they get taught a lesson. Got that, ya gormless twit?”

Despite the other bandit being much taller, he shrunk back as Onion Jake stretched his neck up towards his face, beads of sweat rolling down the underling’s forehead as he nodded slowly.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Balthazar wondered how much of the boy’s reaction was fear, and how much was an attempt at holding his breath.

“What are ya still staring at?” Jake barked at the group around him. “One of yous go out there and drag that lazy sod back in before the rats start making a nest in his britches!”

The bandits started moving and mumbling among themselves.

“We should play along for now, see what happens,” Balthazar whispered to the Marquessa girl.

“Agreed,” she replied as they followed the bandit chief into the next room.

“So,” said Onion Jake as he sat down on his chair and placed both feet up on an old desk, “I hear you've been sniffing around our business.”

“Couldn’t have been me,” Balthazar said as Olivia closed the door behind them. “I ain’t got no nose to sniff with, as you can see.”

“Lucky you,” the young woman muttered under her breath.

“Think you’re funny, huh?” the bandit said, pulling his feet down and leaning forward on the desk, one finger pointed at the crab. “I’ll give you one warning and one warning only: back off and stop meddling, or you already saw what you’ll have to deal with outside that door.”

Fully aware of his lackluster fighting skills, Balthazar gulped quietly and nodded. “Yep, that sounds totally fair.”

“Hold on just a minute there,” Olivia interjected. “How did you even know about us? And why would you even warn us, instead of just kicking the hell out of us like any bandit gang usually would in a situation like this?”

Jake’s already tiny eyes shrunk even more as he squinted at her.

“Olivia Marquessa,” he said in a low and bitter voice. “The mayor’s brat niece. You’ve been a thorn in my boys’ side for a while now.”

“If that’s the case,” she said in a concerningly proud manner, “all the more reason to ask why you’re sticking to just a warning.”

“Why the hell are you so determined to pick a fight with every bandit you encounter?!” the exasperated crab whispered.

The young woman glanced down at him, but continued talking anyway.

“I’m starting to think you’re not really the one in charge.”

Onion Jake’s eyes widened with anger.

“You must be taking the mick, girl,” he said. “I’m letting you get out of here with a warning, and you turn around and start questioning me authority?!”

“Come on, Jake,” the baroness’s niece said in a sly manner that reminded Balthazar of her aunt. “Everyone knows you and your crew are not smart enough to pull off these heists. I think you’re letting us go with just a warning because someone more clever than you told you that was the safest thing to do for now.”

The traveling merchant was about to interject and try to pull her away from starting something bad with the onion-stinking man, but her logic made him pause in thought.

Wait, she’s kinda making a good point.

“I’m the boss of this operation!” the lowlife declared, firmly planting the tip of his finger on the desk’s surface. “And ya better watch your tone and be thankful for me generosity, before I change me mind and let the boys loose on ya.”

His curiosity piqued, but still wanting to ensure the girl’s hot temper did not clash with the bandit’s nerves and ruin everything, Balthazar stepped into the conversation.

“Of course you are!” he said. “I’ve heard so much about the famous Onion Jake, the bandit lord of Marquessa. Your feats are so impressive that they’ve even reached all the way to the west of the continent.”

“They have?” the thug said, looking surprised for a second. “I mean, yeah, of course they have. I knew that.”

“So, who’s been pulling the strings, Jake?” Olivia asked.

“Shhh!” Balthazar whispered. “Will you put the hammer down and let my chisel work?!”

With a finger threateningly pointed at the girl, the bandit opened his mouth to speak, but the crab was quicker on the draw.

“What my friend here was trying to say,” Balthazar started, “is that it’s clear you are expanding your operation, making big moves, and moving up in the world. That must mean you’re diversifying and teaming up with… others. All these mangoes disappearing, phew, that couldn’t have been an easy job to pull. A lot of planning and moving parts, I bet.”

Seemingly calming down, Jake leaned back on his chair again.

“Yeah… Yeah, of course it was,” he said, intertwining his fingers over his protruding belly and nodding slowly. “Ain’t nobody ever thought we could pull something like that off before, ‘till we proved them wrong, hah!”

Balthazar nodded and continued stroking the bandit leader’s ego.

“And getting the guards under your thumb and looking the other way? Wow! Masterfully done. Can’t imagine that was simple to achieve.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably on his chair and frowned slightly.

“Sure. I mean, I wasn’t really involved with that part. Don’t wanna sound like I’m being disrespectful to her work or somethin’.”

The crab’s antennae perked up.

Her work?

“Oh, it must be someone really special,” said Balthazar, “to match the cunning of the great Onion Jake.”

The man’s expression seemed to turn dreamy, his eyes staring longingly like someone reminiscing over a fond memory.

“She’s real special, oh yeah. Couldn’t believe a gal like that would ever even look me way before.”

That’s right, keep spilling your onions, Jake. Tell the nice crab everything…

“Ah, I can see in your eyes that you really must have found something else in her. Must be quite the woman! She… got a name?”

A system notification popped up in Balthazar’s vision, but not the one he was expecting.

[The Gift of the Crab: blocked]

The crustacean’s eyestalks curled inward.

That never happened before!