The goose, seeing them, screamed again.

  “HONK HONK.”

  It managed three awkward skip hops before taking off. Instead of flying away, it flapped erratically down the road, heading not-straight for the group. Maybe it sensed they weren’t out to hunt it down, or maybe the goose chose violence today.

  Either way, he was coming.

  “My Lady, duck!” Lish yelled, standing in her saddle and summoning a shield to block the irate creature just before it landed on them.

  Bastian had just used his [Ice Shield]... and it had twenty seconds left on a cool down. Also, the [Ice Shield] threatened additional frost damage... He didn't want to hurt the goose, and one misplaced attack would certainly fell the beast.

  It was just a goose.

  So instead, Bastian raised an arm, shielding the capybara in case of an attack.

  Unfortunately, the goose did choose violence today.

  [You have taken 145 points Rage Damage from Golden Goose. Current HP 1010/1155.]

  The goose ricocheted off Bastian’s arm guard and barrelled end over end away from the drakin and into a bush.

  That was an unimaginable amount of damage for any normal person to take. Bastian was wrong, he realized. That wasn't just any goose. He shifted his horse slightly, putting himself between the goose and his companions and readied to fight.

  “I’VE FOUND THE GOOSE!”

  An elf in lilac colored livery who was running down the road towards them at enhanced speed. He should have reached the goose in the span of a second, but as the elf’s hand reached out to catch the bird, it vanished into a puff of golden motes of dust.

  “ARGH! Not again!” The elf didn’t take the loss well, turning on Bastian’s group. “You! Stay out of my way. I’m going to catch the– Fern?”

  Peregrine let out an almost imperceptible sigh, but met the elf with a polite smile. “Lord Marigold. How fare’s your brother the duke?”

  That seemed to upset the elf even more. “None of your business, Countess. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a Golden Goose to catch!”

  Lord Marigold jumped onto the high branches of a tree on the eastern side of the road, and then he was off.

  They waited in a moment of silence, but it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to come running, flying, jumping, or crashing onto the road.

  “Well, that happened.” Bastian said, not knowing what else to say but thinking it was best to say something. The capybara in his lap shuffled and kicked itself around until it was standing on the saddle with its hind legs - his hind legs, Bastian noted. The beast's front paws were still leaning against one of Bastian’s arms, as the capybara inspected the world from its newfound height. It made four happily chirping sounds.

  “Lord Marigold is the younger brother of Duke Marigold,” Peregrine rode her horse up beside Bastian’s again, peering off into the bush in the direction the elf had jumped. She shot Bastian a dark smile and added, “And he’s the only Marigold that didn’t inherit his mother’s ducal title.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Ah.”

  “His sister is engaged to the Crown Prince.” Peregrine added, launching into a helpful overview for his convenience. “We might meet them, we might not - her name is Duchess Arianna of Nordon. They are easy to identify because the Nordon’s usually wear that lighter purple, a sign they’re related to royalty.”

  “Noted.” Bastian said, shifting so that he was fully holding the reins in one hand, and the capybara in the other. “Should we–”

  “Honk hooonk.”

  The sound of the goose was back, but this time it was decidedly further afield. And in the direction they'd just come from.

  “--go?”

  Peregrine nodded, “That’s probably for the best.”

  They were not ten minutes down the road when a quad of royal knights came racing towards them. Luckily, the knights passed them without a word.

  Another twenty minutes and a band of adventurers took up the entire road in a controlled barricade. They had erected earth magic walls to narrow the road, forcing anyone travelling into a single file path where twelve adventurers were waiting to ambush.

  “OY!” An elf maiden wearing red robes leapt onto one of the thin walls, balancing perfectly. “This is our hunting area! Clear out!”

  Bastian leaned in close and whispered to Peregrine, “Do you think they gave the royal guard this much trouble?”

  Peregrine chuckled, “Of course not, anyone who upsets the royals are simply run over.”

  “I said clear out!” The robed elf repeated. She summoned a medium sized wand, about as long as Bastian’s arm, and twirled it around her hand. “Before I make you.”

  “Go Chili!” A voice called out from behind the barricade. “You show um!”

  Lish nudged her horse forward and loudly declared, “You speak to the House of Fern! Let us pass.”

  “You’re no Fern!” The robed lady declared. “They went to North Sumbria. Traitors. That wretch Potts’ said so!”

  Suddenly, Lish was no longer on her horse. And the robed elf was no longer on the barricade.

  “Should we?” Bastian started, but Peregrine simply shook her head.

  “If I get involved, then the adventurers went against a noble - they could lose their license at best. Their life at worst. It’s better to let Lish handle everything.”

  The maid made short work of the robed adventurer, her voice clear on the other side of the barricade. “Call my house a traitor one more time-”

  “Alright!” Chili yelled, “We surrender! Let them pass!”

  The walls sunk back into the earth, and Lish could be seen standing over a trussed up Chili, patting her hands clean. It wasn’t just Chili. There were a pair of legs sticking out of a nearby bush and a burly adventurer on his knees with his hands above his head. The large elf was sweating and panicked.

  The other adventurers were nowhere to be seen, having all jumped out of sight before the walls dropped.

  “I apologize for my slight to the House of Fern,” Chili sat up, maneuvering her legs into a criss-cross even as her torso was still bound in thick white ropes. “Please consider punishing me alone. The rest were simply following my orders.”

  “Chili, no!” The larger elf looked about ready to cry.

  Bastian felt a strange pit in his stomach watching the entire thing.

  It was dramatic, but they were seriously wracked with fear and uncertainty. Guarding Rowen meant that he’d had to deal with his fare share of arrests, attacks and assassins - and Rowen was a vindictive fox who relished in messing with his opposers. For this level of impudence, the fox might pull any number of pranks. They’d once left a caravan with nothing but their underwear after the merchants had tried to cheat the fox out of six copper coin. Rowen had also been insulted at a dinner party and managed - in some way that Bastian never figured out - to change all of the guests wine for pickle juice. It was a huge embarrassment for the host, and everyone still talked about it three years later.

  He didn’t think these adventurers were expecting that same level of punishment.

  Peregrine ignored the emotional scene, only ordering, “Lish, leave them be, we’re in a hurry.”

  The two adventurers bowed their heads, but didn’t speak for fear that Peregrine might change her mind.

  The maid returned to her horse, shooting one final glare at her surroundings.

  When they were a short ways down the road and clear of the group, Peregrine’s shoulders slumped a bit and she asked Bastian, “So… are we or are we not keeping the capybara?”