After they parted ways with the Rochette ship, Felicity and Nimo exchanged a few words with the Khiphamidians and chatted with their fellow-countryman from Baycall, as the latter began to make their way back to the port town - with a sizable chunk of the Leviathan corpse in tow. The mythological creature now serving as a source of a plethora for materials and ingredients and the involved parties were quick to split it among themselves.
Most of it belonged to Felicity, or Eulisses to be more accurate, by right of the kill. But seeing as Khiphamid was the only one to suffer losses, the princess was all too happy to give them a majority of the Leviathan’s corpse.
“We thank you for your aid, and your generosity, Princess Felicity. The tales of your kind heart are not exaggerated, I see.”
Eulisses watched the exchange between the Khiphamidian captain and Felicity with waning interest. The man was apparently one of the few people on their bark that spoke their language. Or Felicity’s, as a matter of fact. The hero summoning substituted for my lack of knowing the local tongue by latching on the summoner’s understanding of it. In my case, the princess.
He glanced towards the nearby bark, with the crew chattering excitedly amongst themselves, the members of the sunken ship present as well. A short distance away, the Rochette healers were tending to the more seriously wounded, Claire apparently capable of performing the miracles as well. With her short, bob cut platinum blonde hair and distinctly non-priestly looking attire, she stood out.
But Eulisses wasn’t focusing on Edmond’s compatriot, but on the words exchanged between the Khiphamidians in their own language. Words he understood. Which means that Felicity must speak it, and quite well by the looks of it. I wonder why she didn’t point that out to the captain? It would make the conversation between them go that much smoother, than with his broken … Common, I guess? Let’s call it Common, beats ‘Esaburgish’. Or I could just ask her later what they call their tongue …
He didn’t pay much attention to the princess, who was recounting her embellished version of events to the Khiphamidian captain, similar to how she did to Edmond and Claire before. Eulises understood her reasons behind the decision, but wondered whether her work here would lend any credibility, to her future claims of him being a Hero, when at the summit.
If the captain had any doubts of the truthfulness of her tale, he didn’t voice them. Instead, he thanked her again, and him as well, and left their deck for his own ship.
The men from Baycall looked especially happy to hear that the bandits had already been dealt with, their other source for worry now gone. They were eager to depart for their hometown, and carry Felicity's and his share of the loot with them. “Here, take this with you as well, please,” Felicity handed them a letter she had briefly written in between the multi-national meetings out on sea. “Send it as soon as you arrive at Baycall. It’s for the First Court Mage, Fiona Lockwood. She knows best how to utilize the … haul we secured.”
After saying goodbye to the final group, they resumed their own journey. Only the Khiphamidian barks and the Rochette ship stayed behind at the site, while stabilizing the last wounded.
Felicity sat down beside Eulisses and let out an audible sigh. “This could hardly count as a political gathering, though the Edmond guy certainly counts as nobility,” he bantered. “If this exhausts you, I don’t want to know how the summit will go.”
She threw him a deprecating stare in response. “The last few hours have been a constant wave of ups and downs. Thanks to you, I might add.” Felicity turned her head and fixed her gaze on the distant waves, taking a few long, deep breaths, savouring the slightly salty, humid sea air. “Still, I’m glad you did it. You blew quite a few minds back there, Eulisses.”
“Well, literally, just one,” he tried to joke, but it didn’t seem to land. He took a look around, at everyone within earshot. Felicity had an unreadable expression on her face, like she was unsure how to respond to that. Trevis regarded him with clear distaste, though that didn’t have to do anything with his terrible puns.
Nimo’s at the other end of the ship, so he probably didn’t hear me. And the other two guards … What were their names again? Eulisses tried to recall them, but couldn’t. Anyway, his face is a mask of neutrality. I bet he schooled his expression, so he wouldn’t roar with laughter! That must be it, as for her … The corners of her mouth are clearly raised, so she does find it funny! See, I am funny!
Yelling in his mind over some old mental scars of his, Eulisses could still tell that their conversation wasn’t over just yet. So he bid her to continue, despite the silence killing a part of him inside, if that was possible. “Anyways, I told you I’m high-tier before, but you wouldn’t believe me! Neither would this, erm,” he paused to think of the name, and this time it came to him. “Blythe! The captain of the Royal Guard, he wouldn’t believe me either. As if a close-quarters duel was any way to accurately measure my capabilities.
“We may have approached it the wrong way,” Felicity admitted, “but it was our cultural bias speaking, this time. Most of our combat-related magic is of the personal type. Quick, and cheap to cast. Imagine a volley of thin, hard ice needles, hurled at the enemy with great speed. More reach or penetration than the strongest crossbows, and with far shorter ‘reload’ time as well. You need anti-magic measures if you want to approach such a unit, even with cavalry.”
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She shook her head. “Be that as it may, in the end, I underestimated you, Eulisses. And for that, I’m sorry.” She lowered her head in his direction, and earnestly apologized to him. Now I almost feel bad for not clarifying this sooner.
“Because of your … revelation earlier, I had to adjust many things on the spot. All in all, it has been an exhausting day for me, yes. I don’t expect the summit to be any easier, but I had the opportunity to prepare for it. Prepare you.”
A smile formed on Eulisses face, unbeknown to him. I don’t know what it is, exactly. Maybe, that I’m not constantly regarded with open hostility. Or that I have to hide who or what I am - well, I still do now, but some know. It feels … good to be depended on and I want to help. Saving the world, becoming a hero - it’s its own form of immortality, isn’t it?
--
While they were continuing on their sea journey to Narlême, back in the kingdom of Esaburg, in the city of Summerbury, the continuation of another story unfolded.
In the local lord’s mansion, studyroom, Remington Rowe was in the middle of throwing a temper tantrum. He hammered his fist on the table in outrage, barely stopping himself from knocking the cup of tea in front him over.
“Who dared betray us? This puts everything at risk!”
A maid stood towards the side of the room in stoic endurance. She picked the optimal moment, when her lord had somewhat run out of steam, to continue her report that started his tantrum in the first place.
“My Lord, the Royal Guard has already arrived in Summerbury and makes its way here as we speak.”
That broke the final straw, and the porcelain cup met its end, shattered into a myriad of shards against the room’s wall. “It’s one thing after another. If they actually detain me, it will only be a matter of time until some of the other lords talk. It mustn’t come to that!”
“My Lord, a carriage is already waiting for you at the exit of your escape tunnel.”
Rowe took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. “Excellent, Henrietta, I shall depart right away.”
“What about your son, my Lord? He still hasn’t come back from his hunting trip?”
He waved her question aways with a dismissive gesture. “Leave him, I’m tired of his failures and his excuses. Had he come through, it never would have come to this.” Ditching his own blood without a shred of hesitation, Rowe went to pick a specific book from the stand in his office. It triggered the mechanism to open the hidden door installed, and it revealed a dark and narrow corridor.
“Deal with our unwelcome visitors, Henrietta. They can’t have any hard evidence of our plans, or it wouldn’t be a few Royal Guards knocking on our door, but the army.” He rambled on, about a damn General Colfield and his diehard loyalty to the crown, or how everything would be that much easier, if he had the military on his side.
Rowe entered the hidden escape tunnel, and before he left, turned to his maid a last time. “And Henrietta?”
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Find out, who has betrayed us. They will curse the day they chose to do so.”
“I will, my Lord,” she gave a deep bow towards her master in farewell, as the secret door closed behind him. Taking a look outside the window, not a moment too soon, as a dozen heavily armed men and women arrived at the mansion just at that moment.
She smoothed the creases in her uniform, and gracefully walked out of the office, and down the stairs, to the main door, to welcome the unexpected guests.
--
“Achoo!” Cole loudly sneezed, and made his companions jump in fright. He sniffled, and rubbed his nose.
“Are you alright, coming down with a cold?” Caitlin, walking beside him, asked with concern in her voice.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Nights got a bit chilly as of late, but winter’s still a bit away. Maybe someone’s talking about me behind my back?”
The healer chuckled softly and leaned forward and looked at him with upturned eyes, a mischievous glint visible in them. “That’s not how it works, Cole. But, you know, I would gladly … take a look at you.”
Cole smiled nervously in response, Caitlins appetite, for lack of a better word, was a badly-kept secret amongst their group. “I don’t think this is the right time for … that,” he said, while gesturing to their companions around them. They were in the middle of tracking through the woods.
Their scouts regularly encountered aggressive animals and other creatures, and not always were they able to bypass them without a fight. None were wounded seriously, but the little cuts and bruises had stacked up over time.
“Why are we rushing like this, anyways. You have been really quiet about the reasons behind it,” Caitlin put a finger to her lips and enquired curiously.
Cole caughed, caught off guard, and had to think of how to best answer her. He couldn’t well tell his men the true reason. If they didn’t call him insane, at the very least, some would stop following his orders.
“We need to be in Narlême in time, before the second 4 shield summit begins. Crossing the Brimgeo forest is the most direct route, beating going the sea route via ship by several days. If not for the wildlife, a road would have long since been established, connecting Rochette and Esaburg. This is our best bet on adhering to the timetable.”
Catilin nodded, but refused to let the matter drop. “Yes, you told me that much before. I still don’t know why we have to be in Narlême though. We can hardly act against the princess there, so why bother?”
“I can’t tell you, I’m afraid, not yet. Lord Rowe’s orders.” Cole thought back to the instruction the devil had left him with. He still couldn’t make sense of all of them himself, so how could he give a palpable excuse to his companions?
“All I can say,” he admitted, “is that something is brewing. A storm’s coming, and Narlême and the summit will be at the center of it.”