Merchant Crab

“What is it, Balthazar?!” Olivia asked, running to his side and following his gaze up the stairs. “Did you see someone?”

“No,” said the deflated crab.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Stairs,” he plainly stated, pointing at the steps in front of him with his pincer. “It seems whoever lives here knows my one true weakness. Very crafty.”

The young woman looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure these just come by default in houses with more than one floor.”

“You’ve got legs,” said Suze. “Can’t you just… walk up the steps?”

“It doesn’t work like that!” the miffed crustacean said. “Crabs and stairs just don’t work together. Trust me.”

The little girl rolled her eyes. “What then? We just turn around and go home?”

“Look!” said Olivia, pointing past Suze’s shoulder. “A dumbwaiter.”

“Hey, no need to call the kid names,” Balthazar quickly said.

“No,” the mayor’s niece groaned, moving past them and standing next to a square shutter door built into one of the walls. “A dumbwaiter.”

“Is that what you call your servants back home, rich girl?” the sassy street urchin said.

“Argh! It’s like an elevator!” Olivia explained, pulling the shutter open and revealing a small cabin. “It’s typically used by the staff in big houses like this to take meals and other things up and down the floors without having to use the stairs.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Pfft, rich people…” Suze sneered.

“I’m not getting in that!” Balthazar exclaimed. “It’s way too cramped for me!”

“Oh come on, you whiny scallop,” the child said. “Get in. I bet it will be fun. I’d go too, if there was room.”

Olivia raised the shutter all the way to the top. “It’s either this or the stairs. Do you not want to put an end to it tonight, Balthazar?”

After some mild grumbling, the crab walked up to the dumbwaiter.

“Go on, lift that leg. No, not that one,” the young woman said, trying to help him climb into the cabin. “No, not that one either!”

“Oof, why is he so heavy?!” said Suze, trying to help by pushing his shell from behind.

“Ouch! Watch the antenna!” the crustacean bemoaned. “This is so humiliating.”

After some twisting, turning, and an uncomfortable amount of shoving, Balthazar found himself crammed into the cabin of the lift, partially upside-down, with half of his legs over his face.

“The sardine has been canned!” Suze told Olivia, giving her a thumbs-up.

“For the last time, I’m a crab!” Balthazar protested.

“Alright, I’m going up to pull it now. Close the shutter,” the Marquessa heir replied.

The younger girl shut the dumbwaiter on Balthazar’s face as the older one ran up the steps to the next floor.

Locked in a small dark cubicle, the crab realized he disliked tight spaces almost as much as he did heights.

How do I keep getting myself into these situations?! He asked himself. I just wanted directions!

With a sudden whiplash, the merchant felt his innards shoot up inside his shell as the sound of cranks and gears whirred all around him for a moment, before coming to an abrupt stop.

The shutter opened again and the crab fell forward, tumbling onto the carpeted floor as his eyestalks spun around.

“Ow,” he cried, legs sprawled as he tried to focus his blurry vision. “I liked the fish from this morning, but I don’t want to see it again.”

“Stand up!” a man’s voice that Balthazar didn’t recognize said as he felt his shell being lifted back onto his feet.

“Huh?” the dizzy crab said, looking up to find a lanky bandit thug standing above him.

“Move!” the goon barked, shoving him forward.

As his senses settled back into place, Balthazar felt a strong smell of onion reach him. He looked around to find another man across the room, holding Olivia by the back of the neck with one hand and a dagger in the other.

“How was the ride up—” said Suze as she rushed up the stairs. “Wait, what’s—Woah!”

A third bandit caught her by the back of the collar as she turned the corner and saw everyone else, lifting her off the floor with ease as she kicked and thrashed.

“Hey! Put me down!” the girl exclaimed as the stocky fiend brought her next to Olivia and tied her hands together.

“I told ya to stay out of our business, but ya just had to keep sticking your nose in, didn’t ya?” Onion Jake said with a bitter tone as he held the mayor’s niece in place.

Balthazar stood up straight as the dizziness from the dumbwaiter ride passed. “I keep telling you, crabs don’t have no—”

“Just grab him and bring him here already!” the bandit chief barked at the goon who had opened the shutter.

As he stepped toward the merchant, Balthazar skittered back and put his pincers up. “Hey now, hands off the merchandise, pal!”

The skinny bandit hesitated, small rusty knife in hand, his gaze meeting the crab’s claws.

“What are ya doing, you prat?!” Jake yelled. “Tie him up already!”

“The crab’s got some real big claws, boss,” the other said.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Quit being a wuss! He’s all talk, he ain’t got no fight in him!”

Balthazar looked around, trying to find a way out of their situation.

The second floor appeared to be some kind of ballroom, with mostly open space and a shiny waxed floor, all bathed in the light of four opulent chandeliers. Tapestries of all colors and patterns lined the walls, giving the room a stuffy feeling that the merchant found rather unpleasant.

Or maybe that had more to do with the unavoidable stench of onion filling the air.

“Alright, fella, I’m just going to say it,” Balthazar declared, putting his pincers down, much to the goon’s surprise. “How do you guys put up with that smell all day, every day?”

The lean bandit with the rusty knife stood speechless between the crab and his boss, giving the other man who was holding Suze a glance as if looking for help. The shorter goon looked back at him with wide eyes before glancing at their boss from the corner of his eye.

“I—I don’t know what you mean…” the lanky bandit stuttered.

“Oh, come on!” exclaimed the crustacean. “You know damn right what I’m talking about. Everyone who has come within the same district as him knows! What is up with that onion stench?!”

Both bandits gulped loudly as they averted each other’s gaze.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” Jake said, his face red and his expression fuming with anger. “You must think you’re all that, don’t ya? You probably thought you’d waltz in here, go upstairs, and win her over with your charms. Well, ya ain’t! She only has eyes for me!”

“Hopefully she doesn’t also have a nose for you!” Suze yelled from the other bandit’s grasp, still struggling to get free from him.

“Hah! Nice one, Suze,” Balthazar said from across the room, clacking his pincers in her direction.

“Shut up! Boths of ya!” Onion Jake shouted. “I’m sick and tired of hearing people snickering around, talking behind me back about me smell. I don’t smell like onions!”

“Well, boss…” the stockier bandit sheepishly started. “We actually been talkin’ recently about how we’d bring this up, and you know… we thought maybe we’d all pitch in and surprise you with a paid visit to that fancy bathhouse in the north district. They got these nice soaps and—”

“Ya think I stink too?!” the outraged bandit chief blurted out, his eyes bulging out at the other man.

“No, no, boss! It ain’t like that!” the skinnier bandit said.

“Oh yes it is,” Olivia muttered as Jake kept her hands restrained behind her back. “Honestly, just stab me at this point. Maybe it will take my focus away from how much you reek.”

The fiend’s face looked as if he was about to explode.

“Hey, come on, boss,” the taller bandit said. “It’s just that… you know… sometimes we don’t notice our own smell like other people do and…”

“To hell with the lot of ya!” Onion Jake spat, a manic look on his face. “You two-faced, ungrateful good-for-nothings. She was right. None of ya deserve me. She’s the only one who really appreciates me!”

“Ugh! Who is she? Just tell us already!” the restrained street urchin said with frustration.

Seeing everyone so distracted, Balthazar tried to quietly sidestep away from the skinny bandit.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” the man exclaimed, raising his rusty knife at the crab again.

The merchant stopped and looked down at the blade. Rusty or not, it was still a knife. Despite his act and two mighty pincers, Balthazar knew he wasn’t much of a fighter. Getting into a scuffle could be dangerous for him. What if the bandit got lucky and nicked him with that? He could get rust all over his pristine chitin. Or worse, scratch it lightly.

That would be horrible. Who would want to do business with a crab with a scar on his shell?

“Really?” Balthazar said, tilting his shell slightly. “Have you even looked at that knife?”

“Huh?” the confused bandit said, glancing down at his old, rusted out blade.

“Look at his dagger,” the merchant continued, pointing at Jake’s pristine steel blade. “He has that fancy-schmancy weapon while you guys have to go around using stuff that belongs in a scrapyard.”

“I—I mean… he is the boss.”

“A boss who stinks, treats you poorly, insults and abuses you, and then clearly doesn’t even properly pay for your work. Tsk, tsk, tsk… This is why you guys need the Bandit Rights Association.”

“Oh, not this again…” Olivia groaned from Jake’s grasp. “Seriously, just stab me now.”

“The… what?” the skinny bandit asked.

“Hey, I think I heard about that from some of the guys back at the hideout,” said the stockier bandit. “It’s like… a movement for bandits to get better pay and work conditions or somethin’.”

“You’re all bloody idiots!” Jake yelled. “Just grab the crab already so I can bring him upstairs to her!”

“Hold on,” the goon in front of Balthazar said. “I wanna hear more about that.”

“You see?” said the crab. “He doesn’t even care about you. It’s all ‘do this’ and ‘do that’ for him so he can impress some woman upstairs. That’s all he cares about, while you guys get paid breadcrumbs and have no proper gear. Look at your boots! They’re practically falling apart!”

“Yeah, I mean… we never even saw this lady the boss keeps gushing over,” the bandit said, scratching his head.

“You’re not worthy of setting your filthy eyes on her!” Jake shouted, waving his dagger around like a maniac while keeping Olivia down.

“Hey, boss,” the one holding Suze said. “No disrespect, but how come you takin’ orders from this lady now? I thought you was the boss.”

“Yeah,” added the other bandit. “And how come she lives in this fancy house but we keep getting paid peanuts?”

“Shut your trap!” the chief exclaimed. “You’re all grunts! Nothing more than goons, and you’ll keep doing your job if ya know what’s good for ya!”

The other two men recoiled at the bandit leader’s outburst, but Balthazar knew a deal ripe for the taking when he saw one.

“I don’t know about you guys,” he said, “but it seems to me like your boss doesn’t much care for any of you.”

[The Gift of the Crab: success]

“Yeah, I don’t know, boss. The crab’s kinda got a point,” the man holding Suze said. “You ain’t actin’ like yourself lately, all you talk about is this broad you got upstairs. We never even seen her. I think she might be doin’ your head in or somethin’.”

“Don’t ya dare talk like that about me muse!” Jake shouted, pointing the dagger at his own men.

The other two bandits exchanged nervous glances.

“Alright,” the lanky one said, taking a few steps closer. “Maybe it’s time we went up there and talked to this chi… I mean, this lady, and cleared some stuff out, maybe discuss our pay and—”

“Ya ain’t going up there!” the bandit chief warned, taking a few steps back with Olivia still held in front of him. “You’ll have to go through me first!”

“Hey now, boss,” the shorter bandit said, putting Suze down on the floor and slowly approaching him too. “It’s us. Your pals. Your boys. We been nabbin’ old ladies’ purses since we was just kids, remember? Come on, put the dagger down, do like the crab was sayin’, discuss things.”

The deranged man shook his head, a manic gaze in his eyes as he switched between pointing his dagger at one bandit and then the other.

“He’s gotten into your head,” Onion Jake said. “That’s what he does, with his smooth talk. Not me, though! He ain’t getting into mine! I’m clear, focused. She made—Oof!”

Seizing her opportunity, Olivia sank her heel into the bandit’s foot, followed by a quick elbow to the groin, making him bend over his stomach as she escaped his grasp and spun around behind him.

It was like watching a choreographed dance performance. If her dance partner was completely unaware of the moves.

Moving with impressive swiftness, the mayor’s niece grabbed a large flower pot from a nearby table with both hands.

“Ow, my jewels!” Jake grunted with a strained voice, keeling over in pain. “I’m gonna—Wait, what are you—”

Without a hint of hesitation, Olivia stood over the kneeling bandit and shattered the ceramic pot over his head, sending shards, flowers, and water flying everywhere.

“Maybe that will cool you off,” she said, looking down at the soaked and knocked-out bandit on the floor.

The other two bandits stared at her with dumbfounded expressions at what had just happened.

In fact, so did Balthazar and Suze.

“What?” the young woman exclaimed, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. “I was sick of the stench.”

The goons looked at one another.

Olivia grinned.

“Alright, who wants to go next?”