"Report."
"We've found fresh marks sir, it's really hard to pinpoint who they belong to, but these are the only leads we have so far."
"Understood, tell men to start packing we're moving out"
"Yes, sir!"
Bloody marshes. They would have given up on this chase three days ago when they've just entered the Despoiled Bog, but with their guest, it was impossible to turn around or even think about giving up. Lord-general Dominique left his tent to see that the band immediately started readying for departure and to get some fresh air. Though fresh was a strong word for this place, the air always smelt like milk that has been left on the sun for too long and now turned sour with the addition of a dead rat that decided to end it all on the bottom of the jug. Oh how he envied that imaginary rat.
A guard on duty saluted him and joined him on his way to the band commander, but was stopped short of reaching him by another scout.
"Uh, Lord General, our guest would like to see you."
Dominique didn't answer anything and just scowled. Which made his face probably look even worse than he felt after a ten day march.
He turned in the direction of the tent that the scout came from. It was Dominique's tent originally but he had to make sure that the best is secured for the guest.
He stopped in front of it and made several deep breaths while trying to find at least some hospitality left in him. He motioned the guard to stay behind and went in transforming the scowl into a smile.
"Dominique, we're near the end of our adventure, and I must say that this was an enthralling experience for me, but most of all, I will miss your friendly face."
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"Yes, my lord, I will also miss these adventures with you," he said looking around his tent that now smelled of rare aromas and had a light smoke swirling between unnatural lights that were produced by a strange device on the table. He caught a glimpse of his own "friendly face" in the full-length mirror and tried to relax, he looked like he just killed a man. Unshaven, bags under his eyes and incredibly tired did not help his overall state.
His eyes flicked back to the guest, a tall, slender man with dusky, smooth skin bereft of any kind of hair. His clothes were pristine: practical trousers tucked into high boots, a verdant blouse, and a violet long neck cape that concealed his movements. He was impeccably clean, an impossible feat in this place.
Dominique kept his gaze slightly to the right, avoiding direct eye contact, or looking at them "The scouts should have reported to you first, my lord. If you prefer, we can continue the pursuit while you return to the city—"The man stood without a sound, lifting the device from the table. His movements were so fluid that Dominique could swear he just floated up. The guest looked directly at him. "This will not do," the man said in a soothing tone, as if explaining something simple to a child. "I must be present for this task." He paused, watching Dominique’s reaction. "You don’t understand the importance of this as we do, but I thought the urgency, the payment, and my presence already made that clear."
Dominique stiffened. "Yes, my lord, I apologise. I only thought that perhaps this place wasn’t suited to your comfort—"
"Comfort?" The guest’s voice turned icy. "I have no need for comfort, Lord General. I think you’re confusing me with your lords, or perhaps even with your pathetic excuse for a king - your father. How long has it been since he left the castle? Ten years?"
Dominique clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as he suppressed the urge to respond. Slowly, he exhaled and forced himself to meet the guest’s gaze. "Yes, my lord. I understand. We’ll move out immediately, as you’ve said—the end of the adventure is near."
The man smiled, his eyes devoid of any menace, as if their brief exchange had never held any tension or meaning to him. He patted Dominique’s shoulder before leaving the tent, holding the covered evertorch. It was covered since the Council’s hound approached the general, so why did he see him so clearly?
Dominique was left standing in the dark with cold sweat covering his back.