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Chronicles of a Fallen Matriarch
[Arc I - The Dwarven Puzzle Box] - Chapter 37 – The Retrieval – Part I

[Arc I - The Dwarven Puzzle Box] - Chapter 37 – The Retrieval – Part I

Why did I not think of it? I cursed myself under my breath. The adversary would not stop with a single measure. If they could mobilise an army to prevent the keys from falling into our hands, the better option would be to go after the puzzle box. The Pruning Hands obviously would not leave any choice unexplored.

“Who might this Silvaniel person be? More importantly, why would we be indicted with such activities?” Lucille’s contempt for the Justiciar clouded his judgement.

Lady Jessbeth bit her lips and dug her finger into her palms. She took a moment to compose herself and then she spoke with a voice that was both commanding and reassuring.

“Lord Justiciar Celerim, It is indeed grave news. I did not receive any information that Solicitor Silvaniel was in Westerlygates. Had I been informed, I would have provided the good solicitor with guards appropriate for someone of his station.”

“There is nothing you could have done Lady Wysteria. Silvaniel never set foot in your domain. We strongly believe that he has been napped in or in the vicinity of Sarenthill. Hence the regional Justiciars called for my involvement from Ellisinore as a special investigator.”

“Ah, yes. Ellisinore, that explains your impudent attitude,” boisterously claimed Lucille.

Theodore and I exchanged a quick glance. A glance that conveyed obvious meaning, One of us should pull this unwitting Jester away before he digs his own grave even deeper. There was little debate as to whom the nifty responsibility fell on. Theodore gave a heavy sigh.

“Lord T’Fyrestok, should we not strengthen our own defence. If our adversary could perform their devious deeds in the Sarenthill, they would not hesitate to barge into Westerleygates.” elaborated Theodore, his hidden meaning camouflaged.

“They would not dare to.” Lucille glared daggers at Theodore, as if the steward’s outspoken words insulted his dignity.

“Our guards and knights would still benefit from the presence and encouragement of someone from the noble lineage,” explained Theodore. Theodore clasped his hands together and gestured in the direction of the exit.

“Especially from someone of a noble lineage who was endorsed by the Duke to be his voice of reason. Moreover, the soldiers would greatly value a leader who is not just well-versed in courtroom etiquette but also knows the gritty tasks of blood and steel.” I added my own words boosting Theodore’s claim.

Lucille still held a mask of annoyance on his face.

“It would greatly ease my mind if you would take on the task of overseeing our forces, M’lord”. Lady Jessbeth’s finally requested.

Lucille looked at Lady Jessbeth and then at me for a moment. We gave our widest smiles.

“I will see to it my Lady,” and then he left.

His loud stomping steps disturbed the ambience of the audience hall but Lucille did not bother with such petty details.

“I will accompany Lord T’Fyrestok,” said Theodore and without waiting for an acknowledgement from his liege, took his leave.

The silhouette of Lucille and Theodore disappeared through the door at the end of the audience hall and along with it came a relief, one which implied that now we could address the key problem at hand. It was Justiciar Celerim who broke the silence first.

“Speed is of the essence so I will be candid. I humbly beseech both of you to put aside other concerns and that we share pertinent information. Solicitor Leyandur, in lieu of the present developments, has already given me a brief summary. “

“It is not my intention to disappoint you, Lord Justiciar Celerim. We know very little about our mysterious adversary.” The girl before him answered with a bit of apprehension. Her hesitation was fuelled by her own anxiety in disappointing the elf before her.

“Any information which might lead to the identity of the wrongdoers would be helpful, Lady Wysteria. Could you please shed any light on what could be the contents that your ancestor left?” he pleaded to the young girl before him. Even though he addressed her with a title, the plea was direct.

“Lady Jessbeth, if a high Justiciar was summoned from Ellisinore, then the matter is grave. The Justiciars will definitely approve of your cooperation in this matter.” I reached out to her and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

Gone was the strong Lady Wysteria and before me stood a very wide-eyed young perturbed girl. A girl who would need every ally she could gather, if she were to wade the oncoming storm.

“Even I am not privy to the details but If I were to speculate,” the hesitation obvious in gait as Lady Jessbeth spoke,” I believe, it would be the confession of his war crimes.”

“Why would a group of well-trained soldiers be interested in a war crime from a century ago? Unless....” His eyes narrowed and his jaws tightened.

“It was perpetrated against the elves.” I completed the statement for him.

“All we know as of now is that they call themselves The Pruning Hands, and they are highly trained, organised and well-armed,” added Lady Jessbeth for her part.

“Perhaps have you obtained any further information regarding the group from the royal records, enrollment of knightly orders? “ questioned Celerim.

I scoffed at his eager enthusiasm.

“Human Knight orders do not work that way. There will not be any registration enrollment.” Why do the high elves believe that the whole world revolves around their own image?

“But you have fought them before, Lady Rylonvirah. On multiple occasions, I was informed. You know more about their tactics.” He directed his attention towards me.

“We did clash a few times and I would cooperate with you in whatever means necessary. ”

“I too pledge, all the resources at my disposal to help you find Solicitor Silvaniel. Lady Rylonvirah, you are free to procure any service in lands.” declared Lady Jessbeth.

“I accept the request then Lady Jessbeth. I will travel to Sarenthill at once.”

“Why Sarenthill?” asked a curious Lady Jessbeth.

“That is where I should start,” I replied.

*****

The grand engraved door of the prestigious inn in Westerleygates welcomed me as I walked in holding Justiciar Celerim’s arm. My own actions surprised me when I accepted his offer as he extended his arm. Surprising in multiple facets, since high-elves are known to consider other races with contempt. Surprising, since I voluntarily accepted his offer. The only other time I remember willingly taking such an offer was when the younger Savvas wanted to practice his male elven etiquette. Strangely enough, the same feeling permeated me as I walked with my hands around Celerim’s arms, much to the chagrin of a lot of women and a few men as well.

The moment I stepped in, the familiar face of Dar came into view. He was not alone as evidenced by the two men with him.

“Madame Rylonvirah,” he started but immediately held himself when his eyes laid on Justiciar Celerim.

“Dar, I am glad to see you well and in good health.” I greeted Dar.

“Madame, is it an unsuitable time to request a bit of your patience?” spoke Dar hesitantly.

I exchanged a brief nod with Celerim. The Justiciar took the initiative.

“Lady Rylonvirah, I would get the destrier that Lady Wysteria promised and we will await you at the northern gate then.” With that, the Justiciar made an elegant exit.

“You have my ears Dar, but not for long as you might have guessed.”

“That would be excellent Madam. Please allow me to introduce Sir Gladwin and Sir Lamont.” Both his companions held a congenial smile on their faces.

“Sir Gladwin represents the interest of the Westerleygates trading guild, while Sir Lamont is in the same profession as you, Madame.” Dar continued with the introductions.

This would definitely take a bit longer than what Dar promised. The empty tables stood invitingly appealing at the common room of the inn, almost as if someone anticipated that such a meeting would take place and the patrons would require a cosy and private place to finish their conversation. I pointed them towards the empty chairs and gave a sign to the attentive receptionist that our privacy was not to be disturbed.

“So what made two upstanding gentlemen of the city come to me?” I dismissed all formalities and directly went for the topic of concern.

“It is a mutually beneficial arrangement Lady Rylonvirah. I assure you.” spoke the portly man who was introduced as Gladwin. He attempted to tame his receding hairline by applying some sort of oil to his hair which in addition to making his hair slick also odorized his vicinity. He rubbed his pudgy fingers over his palms as he spoke.

“You want to hire my services. I get it. But I am sorry to disappoint you, I neither have the time nor enough resources to take your assignment.” I denied their request even before they could make an offer.

“I understand your concern Lady Rylonvirah and hence we have a proposal.” Lamont, the mercenary, spoke for the first time. His face was clean shaven and more importantly devoid of any scars. No broken nose and even his teeth were in perfect alignment.

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Lamont continued, “As you might have guessed, most of the mercenary jobs around Westerleygates involve either patrolling orchards or guarding caravan and goods towards Sarenthill. But with the latest event, our employment prospect has taken a deep dive.”

Lamont had no need to elaborate on what he meant by the latest event. A huge unsanctioned army roaming the countryside is definitely not an ideal day to be a mercenary. Which begs the question, now that the threat is nullified, what brings them to me?

Lamont read my thoughts like a Mindflayer and continued further, “Lady Rylonvirah, we are mercenaries, not fools. People who willingly gamble their life for a bit of coin do not last long in our line of work and I have no interest in leading my mercenaries to an early grave.”

“On behalf of the merchants, I would also acknowledge what Sir Lamont said. Avoiding unwanted risk is key to successful trading. We would like the caravan to reach their destination unhindered.” voiced Gladwin.

“The Aberrant Irregulars are small in number. Even if you place your faith in us, we are limited by our numbers. We cannot fulfil your expectations.” I vehemently denied it.

“Please hear us, Lady Rylonvirah. Right now the remnants of the army you defeated is still roaming outside Westerleygates and the name The Aberrant Irregulars is a legend now. No brigand would dare attack a caravan travelling under The Aberrant Irregulars. Your name provides us with a certain measure of safety.” concluded Lamont.

“In other words, you would like ride under the banner of The Aberrant Irregulars while still maintaining your own company?”

“Naturally, your company would be compensated for every consignment,” added Gladwin.

“And the hidden clause, there is always one. Out with it.” I prodded further.

“Well, within the realm of slim possibility, let us say, if we were still attacked, The Aberrant Irregulars would hunt the perpetrators and make an example of them,” Lamont answered.

I looked at the three apprehensive faces before giving my affirmative reply.

“Then let me officially state this, The Aberrant Irregulars accept the contract.”

Upon hearing my answer their faces lit, especially Dar’s. I further continued.

“Unfortunately, I cannot sign the official contract immediately. My services are needed elsewhere. But let us not postpone. When is the next planned delivery to Sarenthill?”

Gladwin and Lamont exchanged glances with one another as if encouraging the other to provide the answer. Finally, Lamont spoke.

“We haven’t set a fixed time but we were hoping in four days time.”

“In that case, for the first trip, my mercenaries will accompany you. I will leave word with my Lieutenant. Dar knows her.”

Their faces brightened further as they heard my offer.

“Pass the terms of the contract with my Lieutenant or with the guild office in Sarenthill, I will sign it in Sarenthill in the presence of an oathreeve if you prefer that way. Now if you will excuse me. I really need to leave for Sarenthill, I am expected there.” I finally ended with an apology.

While the other two seemed extremely relieved with the way the conversation went as evidenced by their gait, Dar’s eyes still held a multitude of questions.

“Dar, I have not forgotten my promise. Our deal holds.”

Dar’s smile became brighter than the rest of his companions upon hearing my words.

I quickly jumped the stairs to my room, grabbed my measly belongings and exited with the same pace that I came in.

The peddler and his companions were nowhere to be seen when I got down. I knew Justiciar Celerim might have already reached the northern gate as promised but he would have to wait, for my next target was the interim camp where my mercenaries are enjoying their well-deserved repose.

*****

Even at a distance, the slender lithe form of Arlene was recognisable. The small figure shadowing Arlene was undoubtedly Theko while a few other town guards stood at a distance arguing among themselves. Theko handed an arrow to Arlene, which Arlene promptly notched to the bow and released. A trail of shouts came from the onlookers, an obvious sign that the arrow found its target as Arlene proclaimed.

“Arlene, change of plans. Quick.” I called out.

She read the urgency in my voice and quickly dismissed the cheers from the town guards and strode towards my direction.

“Silvaniel has been kidnapped.”

“Damn, those whoreborne are a step ahead of us.” She cursed fluently.

“I have to depart for Sarenthill now, The Justiciars have requested our help.”

“Ah, so those high and mighty elves do know how to request help when it comes to saving their own neck.” The half-elf scoffed at no one in particular.

“Not to sound gloomy but that is an advantage for us. Lady Wysteria has promised all the help required, in addition to the Justiciars and Leyandur naturally. So we have more allies now.”

“Do you know where Silvaniel is held?”

The obvious question, one for which I had no answer and as if summoned by my ambivalence, Vitalia appeared.

“Magistra, something tells me that you already have a plan.”

Even in this situation, the fae still maintained her focus.

“I would be heading towards Sarenthill immediately. In a few days time, a caravan from the city traders will head towards Sarenthill. You will work with Sir Lamont, that is the mercenary captain for the caravan. We will adjourn at Sarenthill. I will leave further information at the Justiciar’s bastion in Sarenthill.“

“Any reason for that?” enquired Arlene.

“I need to reach Sarenthill as fast as possible and so I will ride ahead. We also landed a contract with the local traders guild in Westerleygates, a long term contract. So you will lead the rest of The Aberrant Irregulars with them. That way we get to solve both problems. One of them would bring the contract, so Provost, I hate to intrude upon your plans but I would request your help again.”

The fae simply smiled.

“If I understand you correctly, I would be solely in charge of them.... while you are gone?” Her trepidations motivated by her prejudice still held fast, despite the time spent together.

“Young valiant one, You will need to look beyond your own veil of assumptions.” The stern voice of her mentor cut through.

“The provost has your best interest in mind. Consider it as an exercise in learning to earn the respect of people who may not look upon you favourably. “ I gave her a warm smile to boost her esteem.

For a fleeting moment, it appeared as if her rebellious streak would come pouring out but her eyes darted to her mentor and she finally resigned.

“So what exactly do you want me to do? Apart from leading them to Sarenthill with the Caravan?” She placed her hands on her waist as if supporting them. A small sign of defiance.

“Now that you broached the subject, the fight in the bog made me ruminate on a few things. The company needs more mobility. A few warg riders are all that we need. You think you can train them?”

Arlene’s forehead furrowed.

“Wargs would require a lot of meat. So upkeep would be a lot more. Plus they need to be kept chained in enclosures, there is the additional part we need to buy. “

“Do whatever is necessary. we now have the support of a local noble house and a contract from the local trading guild. There is a steady source of income. “

Vitalia was about to explain something when she held herself back. The reason for her behaviour soon approached us. Ellie accompanied a very exhausted Rodo.

“Rylon, may I take a word with you?” requested Ellie.

“I will get on with it then” excused Arlene.

“Please do not leave on my accord. Actually, we would prefer if Arlene hears as well.” insisted Ellie.

“What is this about?”

Rodo rubbed his palms and licked his dry lips as if words stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. Ellie gave a bit of an encouraging look and counted up to ten heartbeats. After she realised that her encouraging look had not the intended effect on Rodo, she took it upon herself.

“Rylon, we would like you to take Rodo and his companions with you. They are good men, Rylon. Loyal men.” Ellie held her voice but the pleading was apparent.

Arlene for her part just shrugged.

Finally, Rodo placed a hand, stopping Ellie and when he spoke, his voice had clarity.

“Thirty of us, now only ten of us remain. Some died to fighting, others to wounds and some others to the very nature of the blessing. The call of the moon is hard to resist. With every transformation, it is hard not to give in to the primal nature. The scent of blood tantalises us. Almost as if luring us to a deeper warm embrace. It is hard not to fall. I have witnessed your prowess. Should we fail, you are capable of providing us with quick and merciful relief. There is no place for us. Not with anyone.”

Rodo, was at that moment, every bit the man who laid his soul bare open for all of us to see. To reveal his weakness and beg for a place. To abandon all pride and kneel at the foot of a stranger. His eyes held multiple layers of sadness. Sadness for the companions he lost and despair for the future of the companions still living, looking up to him for guidance, safety and survival.

“Rodo, you are always a part of us. No one will deny you that, not after what you have done. You knew the risks and still accepted the blessing of the forest. We all survived because of your sacrifice,” declared Ellie denying Rodo any chance to challenge her claim.

Arlene quickly picked something around, her keen ranger senses warned. She surveyed the surroundings and found little Esme sneaking around, trying to get close to us. Arlene quickly shooed her away and as she turned to leave, she uttered.

“I would gladly accept Rodo and his companions. I vow for them. But I understand you would have other concerns. So the final decision lies with you.” She finished her words and without waiting for an answer gave a chase towards little Esme.

“Welcome to The Aberrant Irregulars, Rodo and your companions. Or should I say Rodo and your pack?” I extended my arms, grabbed Rodo by his shoulders and gave a jovial tap.

Rodo grabbed my forearms with vigour and a deep sated joy spread across his face.

“So where do I report, Commander? “

“Arlene is my second-in-command. Report to her. “ I replied with a smirk.

Ellie, who was the most worried among them all, kept thanking me repeatedly till I requested a bit of privacy with Vitalia. In the meantime, Vitalia was busy scribbling on her record. No doubt, updating our current composition. Had I taken a look, I would have seen something like.

The Aberrant Irregulars

1 Dark-elf 1 Half-elf Ranger 2 Dire Boars 20 Goblins 10 Human/Werewolves

I enquired Vitalia about the whereabout of Taltil. When the fae expressed her curiosity for my query, I simply responded with a grimace. “Her skill set would be the most suitable for rescuing Silvaniel.”

*****

Much to the chagrin of Theko and irritation of Maapu, Taltil gladly heaved her bundles and followed me. Ellie who was present at the time when I sought Taltil, somehow made it to her before I could find the latter. Thus Taltil was thrust into the shackles of wearing a dress. The dress, originally, no doubt a children’s dress was tailored haphazardly to fit the goblin. Taltil was even provided with wooden shoes with leather soles. The arms of her dress were bound with leather straps to give the shoulders a puffed look. Around her waist, hung a long dagger from a wide belt. If Ellie’s intention was to make Taltil presentable as a Lady-in-waiting for me, she missed her intended target by a huge margin. For Taltil, with her small body and overtly large head, with wide blinking eyes and extended ears, resembled more an adorable doll than a cunning saboteur, which if I should add, had its own charm.

Justiciar Celerim stood alone near the northern gates. No destrier was in sight. My curiosity grew as I got closer.

“Lady Rylonvirah, you made it. I was just about to search for you myself.” He ran up to me but held himself when his eyes fell on Taltil.

“Justiciar Celerim, meet Taltil. She is my top saboteur. She would accompany us to Sarenthill now. The rest of my company will arrive later.”

Justiciar Celerim’s expression changed as if he encountered an unwanted relative.

“Pardon me, Lady Rylonvirah, I thought we were travelling alone,” asked Justiciar Celerim.

“I see no destrier insight and You, for all-purpose, seem to intent on us travelling alone. An explanation would be nice.” I confronted the elf.

“Regarding that, our mount awaits us. We just need to travel a bit on foot.” answered Justiciar Celerim, but seeing my cynical expression, added, “Please, I have reasons.”

We trudged through the main road for a while before he decided to call it a stop. His eyes scanned the surroundings.

“No one in sight. We are alone, This should be sufficient.” He declared as he reached out into his pouch and took an exquisitely carved whistle.

I stiffened, while Taltil grabbed the sheath of her long dagger.

If Justiciar Celerim noticed our movement, he seemed to pay no heed. Instead, he blew the whistle and waited with a grin. Not the sinister sort of grin but rather the kind that older siblings have when they impress their younger siblings.

After what seemed like twenty heartbeats, a loud screeching sound pierced from the skies, followed by the gigantic shadow of a gryphon as it swooped low and finally landed close to Justiciar Celerim.

“Meet Ryleval. She is very loyal but also very independent and strongly territorial. Takes a lot of coaxing to get her to fly this far.” The elf reached out his hand and stroked the beast with a gentle motion.