“Get up… Things are happening outside…” She woke to find Siravin at the window, looking down on the street below. She reached for her weapons but he made her stop with a wave and beckoned for her to look. In the street below was a group of heavily armed soldiers. Traren was at the front door talking to them. Though she could not hear what they were saying, the threat was obvious. The discussion went back and forth with several notes being exchanged, read and shouted about until the soldiers backed down and left.
They left the room and headed downstairs to find Traren fuming at the counter, pouring himself a mixed drink.
“Sorry about that. Just the usual patrol of inquisitors snooping around the place.”
“And you lied to them? You do know how dangerous they are?”
“Sure, I do.” He stopped for a gulp of his drink. “They visited last week, the week before and intermittently for the last month, found nothing. So why do they bother coming back if not for a drink?”
“Good point. Anything on those papers?”
“Sure, they’re in that box over there. Replicating them was a big pain, and it’ll cost you.”
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“I’ll work off my debts when I get back, Mr. T.”
“How do we get to where my mother is?”
“Well, under normal circumstances, you could have gone by boat…” He began. Mariel froze, recalling how well sea transport had worked out for them all in the past. To her relief, it was apparent it was not an option.
“But ever since the invasion of the demon continent, all almost all able vessels have been commissioned as troop ships or for service in the supply chain. Given the ice and snow, well…”
“We know how that goes, from experience. So how?”
“I could sign you up as mercenaries for a supply convoy. With how all available food and arms are shipped to the imperial city, getting a ride there on a caravan would be fairly easy?”
“We’ll do it!”
“But you might get attacked, and last time, you weren’t a soldier.”
“That was last time. A lot hass happened to me, I can handle myself.”
Traren emptied his cup and stood up abruptly, fetching a new bottle from the upper shelf which he opened and poured each a cup. “Your parents would be proud of how you’ve grown. I’ll drink to that!”
They shared a toast. The content of the bottle was a bit stale and tasted like a particularly nasty variant of cough drops, but she downed it in one go.
“You have grown… That mixture there would’ve downed you had I given it to you when we met back then… I accept your claim! Take whatever you think is necessary for the journey, but Siravin will pay for it with labour when you both get back safely! And I mean it, back safely!”