Chuggie and the Desecration of Stagwater

Chuggie and the Desecration of Stagwater by Brent Michael Kelley Read Free Book Online

Book: Chuggie and the Desecration of Stagwater by Brent Michael Kelley Read Free Book Online
Authors: Brent Michael Kelley
Tags: Fantasy
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    Guard Captain Rorid didn't like being called away from his duties. He especially didn't like being called to the Stagwater Municipal Building. The less direct control the magistrates exercised over the guardsmen the better, in his opinion.
    His commanding officer had ordered him to bring Guardsman Priole, so this debriefing must have something to do with the drifter from the day before. They'd followed orders. He had nothing new to report. Bureaucrats just loved useless meetings.
    Rorid sat with Priole in the windowless conference room on the main floor. Sitting in the cushy office chairs should have been more relaxing.
    "We should just leave," Priole said. "I'm telling you right now this is going to be a waste of time for everyone." He flexed his hands, making his knuckles crack over and over.
    "If we leave, we'll be unemployed. Guardsmen serve the magistrates. They ask to meet us, we meet them."
    "Waste of time, sir," Priole repeated. He wrenched his neck side to side, cracking it even louder than his knuckles.
    "Keep it down," Rorid said, "Magistrates can use Steel Jack listening devices. I've seen it done. And I've seen torturgy used to remedy insubordination more than once. Keep your mouth shut in here, dammit! And remember who your superior officer is."
    Priole might have been the strongest, fastest guardsman Stagwater had ever employed, but the kid wouldn't get far 'til he learned his place. Rorid hoped he could enlighten the young man, but Priole ignored sound advice. He acted like he had nothing more to learn. The problem couldn't persist.
    Priole resumed cracking his knuckles, since there wasn't anything else to do while they waited. What the kid needed was a good man to man. Maybe he never got that from his father. Rorid gathered up some of his own father's wisdom and opened his mouth to speak it, but the door opened before he could.
    Kale stepped through the door, dressed in pressed pants and a jacket with unearned guardsmen insignia. The man walked tall and had a commanding swagger like a veteran, but in Rorid's opinion, Kale was no hero. The closest he ever got to service was when the Woodsmen denied his admittance. As a magistrate, however, he could make life miserable for a guardsman.
    Fitch followed him into the room. He was a head shorter than Kale and nowhere near as broad. He clutched the gleaming gold pendant hanging around his neck like someone was going to steal the damned sacred artifact. Rorid had no interest in Fitch's spiritual leanings. He never took advice on gods, death, or the afterlife from rich men.
    Rorid sprang to his feet in salute. Priole did the same, a relief to the older guardsman. The salute wasn't strictly necessary, but it couldn't hurt, especially where Kale and his crazy military aspirations were concerned.
    "Sit," Kale said, digging inside the exotic slug-plated satchel hanging at his hip.
    The slime of a vanishing slug, when scraped from the creature's back, dried to become nearly indestructible. The cattle-sized slugs had the ability to vanish from one place and reappear in another in an instant, making their slime nearly impossible to harvest. That Kale possessed a slug-plated satchel, was a testament to the man's wealth, as well as his priorities. From the satchel, Kale produced some papers familiar to Rorid. In fact, he'd signed the bottom of the last page.
    Fitch stood to the side smiling, as if he were waiting for Kale to finish so he could evangelize the guardsmen.
    "Your report," Kale ran his finger down the page. "Norchug Mot Losiat, alias 'Chuggie.'" Kale looked from the papers to Rorid and then to Priole. "What did you find when you searched him?"
    Rorid glanced at Priole. How he hoped the kid would keep his trap shut. "We didn't have to search him, sir. He emptied his duffle bag and spread the contents for us to see. He had all manner of useless junk, and he wanted to sell it to us. It's all in the report." Rorid nodded toward the paper in Kale's

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