Chapter 2: This is Not Your World

“You don’t have to do this, ma’am,” Farmund warned. They were looking at the camp from horseback, miles away from home, miles away from safety, and miles away from where Farmund would like to be. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel comfortable; he’d been sent here as Edda’s personal guard precisely because he was more than capable of handling himself in such circumstances. In fact, she had chosen him herself. She said most of the palace’s guards didn’t have the eyes to spot trouble like he did, and on that, she was right. He wouldn’t have lived as long as he had in the palace’s employ without that talent. Unfortunately now, while he didn’t see the danger, he could sense it just as surely. “We can go back,” he pleaded further. It’s better to lose a part of your pride than the whole of your life.”

Edda chuckled. “I’m not a delicate flower, you know. I’m not so breakable.” She surveyed the camp ahead of her, taking it all in. The sights, the smells - not all pleasant, but nevertheless - the palpable sense of excitement and adventure, it was what brought her here. There was nothing in the palace that could deliver the feeling she experienced now. She had only seen such sights in parades, and even then the army was displayed in such a manner for their decorum and order. The reality of a true military camp, men and women hardened by war and full of scars and stories, was different entirely. She desperately wished to be counted in their ranks.

“With all due respect, ma’am, this is not… this is not your world, here. There are countless risks, and-”

“And there is no better man to protect me, Farmund. I have full faith in you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

Her words did little to placate his fears. Edda was an adventurous type, and while he admired that quality, this was not the time nor the place to indulge her. The rainforest was uncharted, unknown territory, and even with all the strength of his massive frame, there were factors he wouldn’t be able to account for. He gritted his teeth. If he hadn’t succeeded in convincing her by now, then it wasn’t to be.

“Shall we then?” Edda asked. Farmund nodded. He wondered if Edda would realise how she’d appear in this camp. She put on a foolhardy attempt at blending in with the styles of the lower classes by following their attire, but ruined the illusion by her and her bodyguard arriving via horseback. These people were not fools, and they’d see through her before she spoke her first word.

Already there were a few folks congregating, staring out at them. He knew at least a few of those glances were at him. He towered above nearly everyone, standing a head and a half above Edda. Every inch of his body was covered in corded muscle, earned from years of dedicated training. Adding to the intimidating picture was a body almost always enveloped in full armour, specially crafted by the shaman in Vanda to accommodate his form. Typically, all that was left uncovered was his head, which his mates back home would joke was thicker than a helmet anyways.

“We go, then,” he replied. Sweat was taking form on his brow. Edda took notice.

“Just remember, I’m not made of glass,” she said with a smile.

They came across two men returning from having harvested wood from the outskirts of the nearby rainforest. Farmund took note they were always walking in pairs, to and fro. He’d heard any number of rumours about that place, and he wondered if it was simply the way in which falsehoods compound or if it really was, indeed, a haunted and deadly land.

“You there!” he called out to the closest one, a shorter man in ill-fitting civilian clothing, likely brought along to support the forward camp. “Can you direct us to Colonel Willamar?” He took a glance at Edda with a grin that revealed more missing teeth than remaining, and also showed a few of the thoughts passing through his head. Edda, while heavier than she would’ve liked from years of the easy indulgences of nobility - a fact she was frequently reminded of by her mother - was still a pretty woman. Her cherubic face carried an innocence and a kindness that was easy to find endearing.

It wouldn’t be the first time a comment had been made about her in Farmund’s presence. However, quite often those came from other nobility, a problem in which he was ill equipped to combat. To a peasant, the issue was far simpler. Before the man with the missing teeth had a chance to speak, Farmund cut him off. “I wouldn’t. Think about that one before you say it. You might not find the consequences worth the trouble.”

The smirk disappeared. His companion, an older peasant of similar height, tugged on his sleeve. He whispered in his ear and gave a once-over look at Farmund and back at his friend. He heard a quiet warning amongst a number of expletives. The man wisened up. “Straight through, it’s the only one with the Vanderik banner outside the entrance. His page is usually milling about, stumbling over his scrolls.”

Edda smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said in a sing-song voice. Farmund still wished to throttle the man for the very thought of indiscretion.

“I could have handled myself back there,” Edda said while descending from her horse to walk the rest of the way through the many tents and barracks of the camp. Farmund stayed on his. “It was a peasant with a wandering eye. I would gladly have put him in his place.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ve forgotten the purpose of our expedition here.”

She paused for a moment. “Do you know what that purpose is, Farmund?” She didn’t enjoy putting him on the spot as she had, but she knew from his character that he’d answer her honestly. It was yet another reason she hired the man. Far too many would speak to a noble the way they believed they’d want to hear. She went through countless yes-men before coming to meet him.

Farmund rubbed his chin. “I cannot rightly say. But I assume it is more than just an adventure.”

“Much more,” she said. “The Vanderik empire is growing, and it’ll need representatives. Now. I want you to think of the most venerated, respected leaders among us. Before they came to lead the land, they led in other ways. Can I say I’ve done the same?” Farmund nodded his head in understanding. “I could think of no better way than to venture into a land beset by rumours and needless fear-mongering and come out the other side stronger for it. It’ll give me the respect and clout, both from the nobility and the peasantry, that I’ll need.” Her face turned darker, if only for a moment. “That, and I need to prove I can.”

They listened to the footfalls of the horses for a moment, taking in the sights of the camp. Farmund sat on his horse with pursed lips, staring straight forward.

“You still disagree, don’t you?” she continued. “On this expedition, that is.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Eager to change the topic, Farmund pointed up ahead at the banner placed outside a large tent. It carried the sigil of the Vanderik empire, an upright hammer atop an anvil, coloured the bright orange of heated metal. Outside were a curious trio of men. One, a fumbling, awkward man, likely the page the short one mentioned. The next was an older man, most of his hair gone, strangely dressed in full battle regalia as Farmund was, but less practical, more military dress. The last was lavishly attired, likely a successful merchant.

“Before we go forward,” Farmund warned, “I want you to know this may be your last chance to return home. There would be no shame in that. None.”

“Yes, my friend. There would be.” She put a hand on his arm, looking up at him on his horse, trying to assure him. “I need to do this. I can’t live in the palace any longer. That life isn’t for me. I’m only young once, and this - this camp, this mysterious rainforest - this is my way to live for once, not just locked in some quarters where your every move is already foretold. Dress in this manner, speak this way, use this bloody fork when you’re supposed to. I have only one chance at exploring beyond that. I need to take it.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Please,” she said quietly. “Trust me in this. I need your support.”

He bit his lip, nervous, but nodded his approval nevertheless. The pair approached the trio.

“Duchess Edda!” the page announced, dropping his scrolls and bowing swiftly. The two other men followed suit.

“Please,” she said raising her arms, “that’s entirely unnecessary. If we’re to get to know each other over the next few days, you best stop bowing now or you’ll never be standing upright. You're going to be seeing a lot of me over the next while.”

The well-dressed man smiled. “I’m Cendric, ma’am,” he said with another bow, lower and with a needless flourish. “I can assure you, I will be absolutely, certainly pleased to see you as often as I can.”

Farmund’s eyes grew wide and his hands balled into fists. Two men in one day and he had yet to put either of them in the dirt. In Edda’s absence, the man would now be busy collecting his teeth, but she didn’t seem to notice the slight. His first impression was to think this arrogant prick was as lucky as he was foolish.

“Captain Alarik, ma’am,” the balding man greeted respectfully. The military men tended to do so. “Might I ask what has brought a noblewoman - let alone a duchess - into the far reaches of the empire?”

Edda laughed, putting a hand up to her chest. Almost immediately she caught herself and lowered her voice, realising even her laugh sounded far more aristocratic than she would have liked. She cleared her throat. “I believe a good leader should visit all her subjects and all her lands, and if I am to rule a piece of it in but a few years, I intend to know as much as I can firsthand.”

“A worthy task, ma’am,” Alarik agreed. “But… surely you don’t mean you’ll be accompanying us on our mission?”

“Actually, captain, that is exactly what I’ll be doing,” she said proudly.

Alarik breathed in deeply and pursed his lips. He gave the lady a look head-to-toe, but not in the same way the peasant had. “How about him?” he asked, pointing to her bodyguard. He had to crane his neck a little to look him in the eye, even though he had now descended from his horse.

“Farmund will be joining us as well, yes. I’m sure he’ll be more than capable of protecting our group from any harm the rainforest has planned for us.”

“He is an awfully big lad, isn’t he?” Cendric noted, staring up at him as if he was a sculpture to gawk at. “I’d say he could certainly pull his own weight, but… that’s an awful lot of weight to pull. Of course, Duchess Edda, you could always leave the big man behind, and hire me, instead. I’d be willing to stay right with you the entire time, as close as you need me to be!”

Farmund gave him the first one, but didn’t allow the second. Before Edda could tell him to ignore it and let her handle it herself, he had already lifted Cendric off the ground by the front of his shirt. “No,” was all he said, his voice like a mountain, deep, ominous and imposing.

“Farmund!” Edda whispered sharply. She shot him a look of disappointment, one that she knew would cut him deeply. He placed him down again, gently, slowly, just to show he could. It looked like Cendric wanted to make one more snide comment but thought the better of it, realising that the big man was already bubbling over.

Alarik changed the topic before one of his men was ground into powder before the mission even began. “Why this particular mission, Duchess Edda?”

“Just Edda, please,” she corrected.

Alarik nodded graciously, and continued. “Why here? I do not mean to discourage you, ma’am, but even with the things I’ve seen in my day, this seems a particularly dangerous venture.”

“Precisely why I wish to go!” she said with enthusiasm. “If I went on anything less, it wouldn’t be... authentic. It would be another political show of wandering into a place once dangerous and now cowed. Only a truly uncharted and unconquered land can provide for me the honest respect of the people. What will be my people.”

Alarik nodded. He didn’t wish to bring more people along the expedition than he had to, especially one that if she were to come to harm would mean the instantaneous death of his career. In fact, quite possibly just his instantaneous death. However, he felt a degree of respect for her mission, even if he thought it was a tad reckless, even foolish. She seemed genuine in meaning to show the people she was worth more than her blood. “I’ll be happy to have you aboard,” he said.

“I’d be happy to have you as well,” Cendric said with a smirk again. He was hardly upright from his half-bow before Farmund’s meaty hands lifted him off his feet to bring him eye-to-eye.

“I gave you a warning, little fool. I never said I’d give you a second,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. If Edda were to reprimand him later for a lack of restraint, he’d have to respectfully tell her he showed a tremendous amount already in withholding breaking the man’s head against a rock. Instead, he lifted him even higher before promptly throwing the comparatively tiny man onto his back.

“Farmund!” Edda gasped. She fully expected this from him, but the sight of violence always threw her regardless, even when in this case she found it warranted. The big man didn’t respond, just crossing his arms and returning to the same casual posture he had before Cendric had made the offence. Edda still looked concerned for Cendric, and rushed to his side.

Cendric held up a hand from his position on his back. “Hold on now, you’re not coming to take a swing at me as well,” he said with a pained expression on his face. “Your giant already rattled my bones, I don’t think I need you to come and finish me off! Next time, keep your bear on a leash!” Farmund uncrossed his arms. “Alright, alright, I apologise. Is that enough? I’m just normally used to having my tunic ripped by hands a touch more feminine.”

“Are there hands more feminine than your own?” Farmund taunted.

“That’s enough,” Alarik interrupted before Cendric could banter back again and lead himself to a proper pummeling he may not return from. “Page!” he called after Colonel Willamar’s assistant. The man came running up to him, looking a little frightened of the strange crew of people amassing outside his leader’s tent. “We have a captain, a navigator, and two travellers with us. Who else, then? Please tell me it’s someone I won’t have to supervise as closely,” he muttered under his breath.

“You’re in luck, captain,” he said, reviewing his scrolls once again, this time in a more timely fashion. Edda smiled, wondering who was set to join them. “Those two down there. They’ve been hired on as mercenaries after we signed the ceasefire with-”

Alarik cursed loudly, interrupting the page. He ran a hand through the remnants of his thinning hair. He finished the sentence for the page. “Khorsul. The hired mercenaries are from Khorsul.” It could hardly get any worse.