Merchant Crab - Chapter 68: Accursed Toad
The crab hid among the rocks by the roadside, blending in almost perfectly, save for the fact that none of them were blindingly shiny and golden as his carapace.
Gazing up towards the town gates, Balthazar awaited for any signs of the toad. He knew that had to be the direction she would come from. He just wanted to confirm it with his own eyes.
Unfortunately for him, the edge of his boundaries around the pond still very much filled him with a sense of paralyzing dread when approached, and Balthazar had no interest in experiencing that feeling again. Standing a good dozen paces away from it was as close as he was going to get.
“If only I could go up there and catch you leaving town,” he muttered to himself, “then you’d have no way to deny it.”
Under him was a small handkerchief, unfolded to reveal a handful of crumpets that the crab quietly munched on as he watched the road. His determination—and obsession—towards his rival was so strong, he was willing to have his breakfast between some rocks on the side of a road, like some wild animal.
Just as the last bite of a delicious crumpet went down his gullet, Balthazar spotted movement coming down the grass from the direction of the city gates.
With a hop, Henrietta emerged, the green Bag of Holding tied around her.
Just as soon as she made it far enough down the road to cross the invisible area Balthazar knew he couldn’t pass, the crab jumped out from behind his hiding spot and onto the middle of the road, next to the passing toad.
“Goodness gracious!” she croaked, giving a startled hop back. “What are you doing?! Nearly made my heart come out of my mouth!”
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our new merchant,” the smug crab said. “Coming down from your marsh? Wait, no, that can’t be. There’s no swamp that way, only Ardville. Now that’s odd. Why would you be coming down from there, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henrietta said, restarting her hopping down the road.
“Oh come, we both know that you do,” Balthazar insisted, following her. “They don’t allow random talking animals to just walk into town like that, so that begs the question of what were you doing up there? Got someone to visit there?”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to insinuate, but I don’t have to answer to you. I’d suggest you leave me alone to my business now,” said the toad, hopping her way up to her stand’s counter and taking off her bag.
“And I’d suggest you buzz off my road and go somewhere else, but you won’t, will you?” the crab retorted. “So, I’m also free to do whatever I want around here. And that includes asking where are you going and coming from every day, with fresh new stock in your bag. Seems to me like you’ve got a supplier, maybe even a patron, behind your business. Is that not right, hmm?”
The toad began sweating. Or perhaps that was just her natural skin moisture. It was difficult to tell. Just like it was hard to tell if her eyes were looking around nervously, or simply acting like regular toad eyes. Balthazar chose to believe she was growing uncomfortable about his questions.
“What? Got nothing to say, frog?” the confident crab said to the toad.
“Balthazar, buddy, there you are!” a roaring and slurred voice shouted from up the road.
Turning around, the golden merchant saw Tristan stumbling his way towards them with a rolled-up piece of parchment firmly grasped in his hand.
“I couldn’t wait to bring you the good news!” the drunk exclaimed, holding the paper tube high above his head. “I got the deed right here!”
“Alright, Tristan, great, but can you maybe not shout it so loudly? We—”
“The old lady was tough as nails,” the man continued, ignoring everything else around him, “but in the end, I closed the deal. And for the 2,500 gold, too. Hah! This old merchant still got it!”
“Fine, fine, but you can tell me all about it once we’re inside,” the crab said, gesturing for the other to shush. “I’m in the middle of an intimidation right now. I almost had it, and you are kind of throwing me off now.”
“Oh… oooh! I’m sorry!” Tristan said in a hushed voice. “I didn’t realize you were doing that. But who are you trying to intimidate?”
The confused drunkard squinted his misty eyes as he looked around before finally landing his gaze on the toad sitting in the stall behind the crab.
“Tristan?” the green merchant said with hesitation and a hint of surprise.
The man’s eyes squinted even harder at her. “Henrietta?”
“You know her?!” Balthazar asked, looking back and forth between them.
“I do,” said Tristan, still staring at the toad. “She was the innkeeper across the street from our emporium back in the day. She was quite attractive, too, but… there’s something different about her now. I can’t quite put my finger on what, though.”
“Eww, she’s a frog!” Balthazar exclaimed, looking disgusted.
“I’m a toad, not a frog,” Henrietta said, rolling her eyes.
“That’s it!” the drunk yelled, smacking his fist against his open palm. “I knew something looked different! She used to be a human!”
“Eww, she’s a human?” the crab asked, looking even more disgusted.
“Yes, or at least I think so. Memory’s a bit hazy sometimes,” Tristan said. “What happened to you, Henrietta?”
The toad’s eyes gazed down at the road, her expression looking sad and ashamed. “Oh, Tristan. So much. It’s been a long time.”
“Does someone mind explaining to me what the hell is going on?!” Balthazar blurted out. “How do you know her? And more importantly, how did she end up down here being a thorn in my side?”
“I told you,” Tristan said, “I knew her from the inn across from our emporium back when Antoine and I were getting started as business partners. You know, way back before he… ruined my reputation. Henrietta owned a nice, cozy little inn with a tavern. I used to go there every night for some mead. Then, after Antoine stabbed me in the back and took everything from me, I… I just stopped showing my face around that part of town for a while. Some time later I found out the inn had closed, never really heard anything about her again, figured she might have left town, or something.”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.N/nêw n0vel chap/ers are published o/n n0v/e/(lb)i(n.)co/m
Henrietta continued staring emptily at the wooden surface she stood on, with a look of melancholy as she listened to Tristan’s words.
“What happened?” he asked the toad. “How did you end up like… that?”
She sighed, still avoiding eye contact. “I… I can’t really talk about it.”
“But why not?” said Tristan.
“This conversation was already enough of a mistake. I wish you wouldn’t have recognized me. Please, just forget you saw me.” She glanced at the crab. “I might have already ruined things too much at this point. Best I say nothing else.”
“Come on now, Henrietta, you know me,” the man said, his baggy eyes and cheeks sagging as he frowned. “Maybe a little less drunk, and better looking, but surely you still know you can trust me. Tell me what happened.”
She opened her mouth, but hesitated to speak, as her gaze went to Balthazar once again.
“And you can trust him too,” Tristan said.
“She can?!” the crab exclaimed, looking surprised at the drunk.
“He’s all crabby and rough around the edges,” the man continued, ignoring the question, “but he’s good, I promise. If this has anything to do with Antoine, trust me, we’re all on the same side.”
“Are you sure?” the toad asked. “He’s been nothing but unpleasant to me since I got here.”
“Well, you were sent here by my nemesis to screw with my business. What did you expect? Tea and crumpets?!” the outraged crustacean said.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just a little hot-blooded sometimes,” said Tristan.
“No, I’m not! Do they teach you nothing about crustaceans in your schools?!”
“Go ahead, tell us everything,” the other continued, paying no mind to the crab’s ranting.
“Alright, if you promise, Tristan… I’ll trust you,” Henrietta said with a sigh. “You know, back when the whole thing with you and the mayor happened, I knew something didn’t sound right about it. I never liked that partner of yours. He always felt skeevy and untrustworthy to me. When all that unpleasant business at the mayor’s house came out and everyone was talking horrible things about you, I didn’t believe it. I knew that had Antoine’s finger on it, that he must have finally pulled one on you.”
Tristan nodded gently as he made a sad smile. “Thank you. I should have known at least you would believe in me, Henrietta.”
She returned his smile before continuing. “Of course, soon after he took over your guys’ emporium, he began making moves to expand and take over whatever he saw fit. He started putting pressure on the neighboring shops to sell so he could expand the building, even managed to throw that old carpenter out from his workshop up the street, if you can believe that. And then, of course, one day he walked into my inn, suggesting I sell it to him, stay in my own place as a tenant, working for him, paying most of my profits to him, just to fall in line with his expansion.”
“His greed just doesn’t know any limits,” Tristan said, shaking his head.
“Well, you know me, I ain’t one to take stuff like that home,” she continued. “I said a good few things and basically told him to go graze with the goats. Of course, fancy boy didn’t like that. He started putting the squeeze on me and my business. First with thugs trying to intimidate me, then causing trouble in the tavern. This went on for months, but you know what kind of woman I am, Tristan. I wasn’t going to break to mister fancy-silk-pants.”
“Damn right, Henrietta!” the former merchant exclaimed, waving a fist in front of himself.
“Except when it started going around that some lowly innkeeper was embarrassing the brand new guildmaster, it became personal, and he made it a mission to get what he wanted, to make a point for everyone else. For a while, I thought he might really have someone, you know…” She rolled her eyes back and twisted her neck to the side with a croak. “But no, he’s petty and malicious. He didn’t just want me gone, he wanted to punish me for standing up to him. So, I later found he hired an adventurer passing through town, some black-haired witch.”
“Uh-oh,” Balthazar said. “Let me guess: the witch’s name was Velvet.”
“Yes. How did you know?” the surprised toad asked.
“Let’s just say I’ve had the displeasure.”
“Well, anyhow,” Henrietta continued, “he paid the witch to do some black magic stuff that witches do, not like I understand any of it, and then had his thugs grab me behind the inn one night. They put a bag over my head and took me to a basement, and… and well, you can guess the rest. The witch’s curse left me like this.”
The toad sighed as she looked down. Tristan briefly gestured towards her, as if wanting to comfort her, but unsure of how. Actions failing him, he finally found the words to speak.
“Damn him. Damn him to hell!” the ragged man said, sounding much more assertive and clear than his usual drunk self. “Just when I thought I couldn’t resent him more, he finds a new low. All this time, people just assumed you had sold the inn to him and left town with a big payout without saying anything to anyone.” He shook his head, his expression rigid and bitter. “Surely there’s a way to reverse that curse, or whatever it is he had the witch do to you?”
“Oh, hun,” Henrietta said, “I’ve spent so long in a cage in Antoine’s basement, being kept as a pet for him to toy with whenever his day goes wrong. He made sure to remind me often how only he could have the curse reversed. That without his say, I’d be stuck like this forever. To break my will and keep me in line.” She closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to face the other two. “And it worked. Over time, I stopped trying to escape, to defy him. When one day he walked into that basement, looked at me through the bars of that cage, and told me he had a task for me, that he would let me go back to being my old self if I did everything he told me, I… didn’t hesitate. That’s why I’m here, doing his biding. He doesn’t even need a leash, because he knows I can’t get away from him, if I ever hope to return to normal. Look what he did to me! In the end, he always gets what he wants.”
She turned around, attempting to hide the tear that had just rolled down her rough green skin.
Tristan looked distraught, as if part of him wanted to rage, while another wanted to sob with her.
Meanwhile, Balthazar stood on the side, watching them both with a sore lump in his throat. He was so invested in hating Henrietta and exposing her ties to Antoine, but now that he had learned the truth, the crab felt foolish and embarrassed. Compared to her woes, his grudge with the guildmaster felt small and insignificant.
“He won’t get away with it forever, Henrietta,” Tristan said, finally breaking the silence that had set between them. “I’ve spent long enough feeling sorry for myself. It’s about time I do something about that two-faced traitor. If not for me, then maybe for you.” He turned to Balthazar. “And believe it or not, this crab here is our best ally against him. Join us, help us get back at him.”
“But… the curse,” the toad said, trying to contain her sobbing.
“Oh, my dear, I thought I had it bad, spending the last few years in a constant stupor, from tavern to tavern, hating myself. In reality, you were the one who really had it worse. He really did your head in while he held you prisoner. You know, you must know, that whatever Antoine promised you is a lie. He will never willingly reverse the curse.”
“He might not, but perhaps the witch will,” Balthazar said, finally finding the will to break the lump in his throat. “I’ve encountered her before, and I’m sure I will again. If there is a way to undo what’s been done to you, we will get it out of her.”
“You… you want to help me?” the lady toad said, looking at the crab in disbelief. “After everything between us the last few days?”
“Yes, well, that was… before,” the other merchant said, darting his eye stalks around to avoid looking at the toad. “Let’s just not make a big deal out of that and move on, alright?”
“See? I told you,” Tristan said to the former innkeeper. “We can help. Don’t go back to Antoine, there will be nothing other than a cage waiting for you there.”
Henrietta took a deep, shaky breath. “You’re right. I don’t know how I’ve been fooling myself for so long, but no more. I thought I was all alone, but now that I’ve found you, Tristan, I… I think I can do this. Whatever it is you fellas are cooking up, I’m in.”
“Great!” the human rejoiced. “You will not regret it, you’ll see. But, speaking of which, Balthazar… what exactly is it we are cooking?”
“Not cooking, Tristan. We are baking,” Balthazar said, a smile coming onto his face. “I want you to go back to town and contact a few people. I think it’s time we get together and start getting organized.”