"Your place is a lot nicer than mine," Lothar commented on entering Governor Li's apartments.

It had the spacious, open feel of a Kuthenian palace, with high quality furniture and decoration.

"This is not my place," Li told him. "It is a government office. As such, a certain standard needs to be maintained. Anyway, I will be leaving it soon." Li sat on a mat on the floor and offered Lothar one opposite.

Lothar sat, knees complaining and clicking. "You're off somewhere?"

"Now that we have taken Benxi, it is expected that I will visit with General Fei in person and give an account of our success here."

"Huh." Lothar thought about that. "And the Apples will likely be redeployed?"

"Indeed."

"How is the war going?"

Li gestured to a pile of scrolls on his desk. "I have friends on the front line. The fighting is fierce. More than one describes it as a meat grinder. I have lost friends, and they were in the officer class. No one is safe."

Lothar did some more thinking. They were all making good money here. But that didn't mean he was ready to take his mercs into the Kuthenian killing fields. If there was one advantage to being a mercenary, it was the element of choice about what work you took on. "How about you wait just a little before you give your report to the general?"

Li pursed his lips. "That would be asking a lot, Stiff. It's expected that I leave immediately."

"You owe me," Lothar reminded him. "You're living in this nice apartment instead of festering in a prison cell because I put in a word for you."

Li raised his hands. "I know that. Don't think I'm not grateful. Perhaps more needs to be done in the city before I am free to leave."

"There's a lot to clean up. On that subject, my infantry force needs replenishing. We're twenty-one soldiers short."

"Very well. I will talk with Captain Guan about that."

"I hope he gets a commendation in your report?"

"Of course. As do you, Stiff. But listen, I can't wait around here for long. It is against protocol. My enemies at court would make sure I got dismissed. I'm giving you an extra two days. No more."

"Very well, Li. Two days."

Lothar took a seat at the bar in the barracks recreation room. There had been days of non-stop celebration since they'd won control over the city. No more punitive shifts to interrupt the partying. And yet, despite all the hard stuff they'd drunk, and all the shag they'd smoked, somehow more was always found.

Still, today the atmosphere was more relaxed than it had been. Ashlyn and Oripione were at the bar, talking quietly. Randall and Lurin were at the war tables. Didn't look like any other Apples had escaped their pits yet.

"Hey, Stiff!" said Ashlyn. "What are you drinking?"

"I don't know. Don't think they serve mild, do they?"

She laughed. "I'll get you a rice wine. You'll like it."

"Alright. But I'm paying for the round. I haven't properly celebrated levelling up yet."

"Fine. I never argue about someone else paying," Ashlyn said.

"Level eight?" Oripione asked.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Aye. Really didn't think this old dog had it in him to improve more. Gal'azu has given me a new lease of life."

"Congratulations!" said Ashlyn, bringing him his wine.

Lothar drank the stuff. He'd paid for it, after all. But it wasn't a proper drink, that was for sure.

He had become famous in Benxi, and well-wishers soon appeared, thanking him for what he'd done for the city. Many wanted to buy him a drink, and the last thing he wanted to do was insult anyone by refusing.

A middle-aged woman presented him with a bottle. "Here, have some proper grog."

"It's good?" Lothar opened the bottle and gave it a sniff. It was strong.

"White spirit. Delicious," she nodded enthusiastically.

He noticed her hair was cut short, unlike most Kuthenian women. Otherwise, she was handsome—stern and strong looking, rather than pretty. "It's like whisky?" he asked her.

"Just drink it."

He poured himself a drink and tried it. It wasn't terrible. Better than the rice wine. Maybe I'll get used to it. "Thank you. Very nice."

She smiled and bowed, then left him to it.

After that, his memory blurred. He drank for a while longer, then excused himself. Lothar wasn't feeling great.

He was sick and queasy, with a banging headache. He struggled walking to his room in the barracks. It was like his joints were seizing up, and his heart was beating so hard it felt like it wanted to burst out of his chest. He struggled with the door, his vision blurry, before finally getting it open.

By Gehenna, I didn't have that much to drink.

He recalled the woman who had given him the bottle. She hadn't bought it from the bar…

Oh, shit on it. You idiot, Stiff.

If I lie down on my bed, I may never wake up again.

He turned around, knowing he had to find help. But the floor rose up, smacked him in the face, and he blacked out.

***

Oh, here we go, Ashlyn thought. Clamor has only just arrived, and he's already looking for trouble.

The scout frowned as he approached. "Was Stiff here?"

"Yes."

"How much did he have to drink?"

"Not much, why?"

"I found him passed out in the corridor upstairs. I put him to bed, but he didn't wake up the whole time."

Ashlyn shared a look with Ori.

"Something's not right," said the tiefling. "Come on."

"Alright," Clamor said. "Let me know if you need help."

Ashlyn followed Oripione as she headed out of the recreation room. The tiefling stopped. "Go fetch Mila, will you? We might need her."

"Of course."

When Ashlyn dragged Mila and Jaelin to Stiff's room, they found a worried Oripione standing by Stiff's bed. She'd laid a damp cloth on his forehead. "I can't wake him. And he's burning hot."

Mila took a look. "This isn't drink. Could someone have poisoned him?"

"It's possible," Ashlyn said. "There was a crowd around him. Someone could have slipped something in one of his drinks. But they'd have to be good for Stiff not to notice. He wasn't born yesterday."

"Do you know what to do?" Oripione asked Mila. She looked scared.

"I talked with Femke about it, and Wade was poisoned once. Back in Dorwich." She placed her medical kit on the bed and retrieved a ceramic jar. "Step one, get him to drink this."

"How do we do that?" Ashlyn demanded.

"First, you and Jaelin get him sat up."

They got Stiff to swallow his medicine, then laid him back on his side.

"Next, we need to get him in a bathtub," Mila said.

"He's gonna be sick?"

"Both ends, more than likely. We also need to get his clothes off and wash him."

"Oh," said Ashlyn. "Not sure I'll be able to look at the boss quite the same after this."

"The point," Mila said, "is to give him the best chance of pulling through."

"You mean, he might not?"

Mila looked at her. "Ashlyn. I don't know what the poison was. It's already entered his bloodstream. All we can do is the best we can and then hope and pray."

That didn't sound good. It didn't sound good at all. There had to be something. She wracked her brains. Then it came to her. "The potions!"

"What?" Mila asked. "What potions?"

But Ori knew what she meant. "We got them from the Crimson Palace. When we went to kill Eyota. There were about eight different kinds, Rosalind told me. Where are they, Ashlyn?"

Ashlyn shrugged. "In this room, most likely." Then she went cold. "Unless Rosalind has them in Avolo." Rosalind. What would they tell her if Stiff died?

She began searching the room. She opened a chest and pulled out Stiff's clothes until she reached the wooden base. Nothing.

"These?" Jaelin asked. He'd reached under the bed and retrieved a case. The glass bottles clinked as he lifted the case onto the bed. There were a dozen, with various colours of liquid inside.

Ori picked up a piece of parchment and studied it. "They've been catalogued. By Rosalind, presumably. Here. Potion of Vitality. Removes poison effects. She's recorded it as orange."

Jaelin took a bottle and handed it to her.

Mila looked at the others in the case. "She's labelled them, as well. What the—" She picked up a bottle with green liquid inside. "There's a healing potion here! What in Gehenna was Stiff thinking, keeping these to himself?"

"Focus, Mila," Jaelin said gently.

"Alright. He still needs taking to a bathtub and all the rest. We just get him to drink this as well. I don't know anything about magic, but I'm hopeful it will make a difference."

Ashlyn let out a sigh of relief. "Good job Clamor bothered to mention he found Stiff like this."

"Yes," Mila agreed. "He's been such a big fucking help."

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