Torham Zed: Meat Broker - Jeff Long Episode 4 The stout iron door to the Avenger barracks swung open and in walked two men, bearing a comatose woman with flaming red-hair. The first man was of average height, with waist-length black hair and two short swords strapped to his belt. The second was slightly taller, with blond hair and cold blue eyes. A long sword was strapped to his back. Both wore the black clothing that was associated with the Avengers. At the moment, the Avenger barracks was occupied only by one man, aside from the barber who lay dazed on one of the bunks. The man looked up as the two Avengers entered, arguing loudly. "What do you mean, this is my fault?" yelled the blond man. "You're the one that did all the talking. And you're the one who pulled out your weapons first!" "I wouldn't have needed to if you hadn't been acting so unsubtle!" shot back the black haired man. He seemed about to add something more, when both he and his companion noticed the man in the room staring at them. Dropping the woman to the floor with a loud crash, the two men snapped to attention. "Mission accomplished, Lord-Captain," said the black-haired man formally. The man in the room was wearing the same uniform as his men, with a golden-hilted sword strapped across his back. His hard face remained impassive as he strode menacingly toward his two soldiers. The blond man gulped uncomfortably. Then the dark-eyed captain spoke. "Theerin, Ganz, let me get this straight. You found the tavern where this woman was, went in, kidnapped her by force and brought her here. Is that right?" Ganz Oryon lowered his head beneath Drake Giltheas' stare and coughed uncomfortably. "Well, I guess you could put it that way, Captain. I prefer to call it ‘Pick-up and Delivery'." Drake Giltheas stared hard at Ganz for a moment. Then his expression lightened a bit. "Excellent work, men. Job well done. Now, let's wake her up and begin the interrogation immediately." The two Avengers sighed in relief. They then picked up the woman from where they had dropped her on the floor and tied her securely to a chair at the back of the room. Meanwhile, Drake Giltheas walked over to a jug filled with a clear liquid and labelled ‘vinegar'. Picking it up, he carried it over to the chair and splashed some in the woman's face. Coughing and spluttering, her eyes snapped open. "Just what is the meaning of . . ." she cried out, but her cry disappeared into thin air as she saw the Captain of the Avengers standing before her. "No need to be alarmed, Mrs. Flamehair. We just want to ask you a few questions," said Drake Giltheas in a very un-reassuring voice. Theerin Baine and Ganz Oryon stood to either side of their leader, trying to look as intimidating as possible. Drake Giltheas continued without allowing the woman a chance to respond. "You are married to a man by the name of Bob Nightwielder, correct?" "Yes, that's right," Seri stammered uncomfortably. "So, you must also know his brother, Jarod," Giltheas continued flatly. Seri's eyes darted from side to side nervously. "Just what is this? What right do you have to hold me here?" "Just answer the question, Mrs. Flamehair." There was iron in Giltheas' voice now. "I . . . I know nothing about Jarod Nightwielder," the red-haired woman stuttered. Drake Giltheas' face didn't change, and his eyes stared straight into those of his prisoner. In the background, Ganz Oryon took out one of his daggers and started sharpening it absently. Theerin Baine reached into a drawer, pulling out a rubber chicken and casually started to saw off its head. The barber went back to sleep. Sweat ran down Seri Flamehair's face, as her eyes darted from Oryon's dagger, to the now-headless rubber chicken and back to Drake Giltheas' stony face. Finally, she could take it no longer. "Alright, I'll tell you!" she cried out. Giltheas backed up a pace. "Well that's better, then. We would hate to think you were trying to protect known criminals." Ganz slid his knife back into his sheaf, and Baine stuffed the chicken back into the drawer. The barber snored loudly. Slowly, Drake Giltheas walked over to the jug labelled ‘vinegar' and poured himself a glass. "Now, you were telling us, Mrs. Flamehair?" Giltheas took a sip of his drink and instantly spat it out. "Blood and bean sprouts, what IS this stuff?" Theerin and Ganz just shrugged. Ignoring his drink, Drake turned back to the bound woman. "Uh . . . well . . . I don't really know anything much," stammered Seri, "but Jarod does come to visit us sometimes. In fact, he's supposed to be coming over for dinner tomorrow night. That's all I know . . . really, it is!" For a moment, the Captain of the Avengers just stared at her with his dark gaze. Finally, he said: "Well, it's not much but it's something to go on." He turned to the other two Avengers. "Now, the question is, what should we do with her?" Seri gasped, looking at all three men in horror. From the way Theerin Baine fingered the hilt of his sword, it was obvious what he thought they should do. But Ganz Oryon shook his head. "If we kill her, or keep her here, someone's going to get suspicious. I think our only choice is to let her go." Drake Giltheas nodded slowly. Then he turned to Seri. "We're letting you go now, but if you breathe a word of what happened here, or what you told us, we will come for you. We are the Avengers, after all." The fear in Seri's eyes made it clear she understood all too well. Drake motioned to Ganz, and the black-haired man stepped forward, deftly cutting through Seri's bonds with his dagger. With a final glance at the three men, Seri Flamehair scurried out the door as fast as her legs could carry her. As soon as she was gone, Theerin Baine turned to his leader. "Tomorrow night, eh? Sounds like we have plenty of time to prepare. This should be an easy catch." "Perhaps," mused Giltheas, sitting down in one of the many chairs scattered throughout the room. "But in any case, let's wait until the others get back before making any concrete plans." "Where are the others, anyway?" asked Ganz Oryon, glancing around at the almost empty room. "Oh, they're out getting pizza," replied Giltheas absently. Theerin Baine's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I hope they don't get it with that disgusting pineapple stuff on top," he muttered darkly. * * * * * Glancing around hurriedly to make sure he was not being observed, a man in workman's clothes darted furtively into a dark alleyway. Pulling up his collar to hide his sharp face, the man skulked into the darkest recesses of the alley. Upon his arrival, a black form melted out of the shadows to meet him. "So, what information do you bring me?" asked Het Farvil in a sickly sweet voice. "Valuable news. Very valuable news," said the man in a weaselly voice. He waited as Het eyed him disdainfully before tossing him a gold coin. The man looked at the coin greedily before stuffing it into his pocket. "Now what is this oh so valuable news?" asked Het, a cross between a smile and a sneer appearing on her face. "Yeah, what is it?" asked a bum who was rifling through a nearby trash can. Het shot him a withering look, and the bum shrugged and went back to his rummaging. "Well, I was at ‘the Coughing Chicken'," the sharp faced man whined, "when suddenly two men walked in. They were dressed like peasants, but they sure didn't act like them. They went over to talk to some woman with red hair, and before you know it, they've ripped off their costumes and revealed themselves as not only King's Defenders, but members of the Avengers." The man gulped fearfully at the mere mention of the word. Het Farvil's brow furrowed in thought. "So, the Avengers have been reactivated. The King had shut down their operations ever since that singing telegram incident. It can't be a coincidence." She turned to the sharp-faced man. "You've done well, friend." She tossed another gold coin into the dirt at his feet. "Make sure to keep your eyes open for anything else that might . . . interest me." "Hey, what's all this noise?!" yelled a crotchety old voice from above. With a swirl of her shadowy cape, Het Farvil instantly disappeared into the darkness of the alley. The sharp-faced man looked up to see an old woman leaning out of a window over the alley. "Take this, you vagrant!" she shouted. A flower pot flew out of the window, smashing into the man's face. His eyes crossed, and he fell face first into the dirt. "Hey, nice shot!" yelled the bum, who was now examining a mint-condition sofa. The old woman grunted and slammed shut her window. Silently, Het Farvil scurried up the wall at the end of the alley and leapt down to the other side. There was a loud meow as she landed on a passing cat. Ignoring the strange look she got from the barber who was passing by, the black clad woman dashed off and disappeared down the street. * * * * * The Lord-Steward Stuard Yavin briefly stepped aside as the doors to the King's Audience chamber flew open and a dark faced man stormed out. Stuard gave the man a strange glance before proceeding through the double doors into the chamber. King Mylius sat on the golden throne, looking even wearier than usual. The Lord-Steward ascended the stairs to the throne and spoke in a soft voice. "Who was that man, my King?" "Oh, some fellow by the name of Bob Nightwielder. He was complaining that his wife had been kidnapped by some ruffians in black cloaks," replied the King, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Hmm, sounds like Avenger work alright," murmured the Lord-Steward. "So what did you tell him?" "I just told us we'd put someone on it. Really, you'd think people would have more respect for their King . . ." "With all the trouble with Torham Zed and such, my King, you can hardly blame them," Stuard said with a sigh. "Will we never know total peace, My King?" "Things could be worse," replied Mylius sadly. Stuard snorted. "How so?" "Well, we could have another Bean Sprout crisis. Or the Avengers could start using singing telegrams again." The King shuddered violently. "Have you ever heard Drake Giltheas try to sing, Stuard?" Stuard grimaced. "You're right, your majesty, it could be much worse." The barber in the corner of the room nodded vigorously. Once again, the King sighed. "Well, hopefully the Avengers are on to something here. The sooner we can take them off duty again, the better it will be for everyone." The sound of a serving maid dropping a tray on her foot was the only thing to disturb the utter silence that fell over the room. Both the Avengers and Torham Zed regroup their forces for the battle. Join us next week to see the ensuing confrontation, in another exciting episode of: Torham Zed: Meat Broker