The carriage took them on a meandering route through the streets. As they got further from Sir Azarah’s mansion, the buildings through the carriage’s windows looked dingier. Achilles began to feel a little trepidation.
He was really going to leave everybody he had ever known. Half the people of their village were dead, and Achilles was going to leave without even attending their funerals.
But he had always felt out of place. Even now, he didn’t belong there. He had a feeling no one would miss him outside of his family.
It did feel painful, the idea of leaving his mother and Diana. But it did not cross Achilles’s mind for a moment to remain.
Even aside from the fact that if he did not become stronger, Virgil’s power would turn him into some sort of monster, Achilles knew he could never be any happier with the boring life in the town then in the village where he had grown up.
Achilles looked at the wallet Sir Azarah had given him. It was made of fine leather with a sturdy brass clasp. It contained some coins, but mostly bank certificates which were worth 5 silver or 1 gold apiece.
The amount of money, 100 gold, was astounding.
Achilles had never seen more than a couple of silver at a time in his life. 10 copper was worth 1 silver, and 10 silver was worth 1 gold. For the worst paying jobs Achilles knew of, 1 gold was worth almost a whole year’s wages!
Yet, he also knew that things were much more expensive in towns and especially in cities. Jobs paid more, but it cost a lot more to live. His mother had told him that, though she had never shared specific details.
She had always seemed somewhat wistful about whatever life she had lived before coming to the village with Achilles’s father, but she never seemed bitter about her life. Just as she had always told him to be the best he could be at wherever Fate placed him, she lived that same life herself.
There was something else in the wallet aside from the money. It was a note from Sir Azarah.
It warned Achilles to listen constantly for Virgil’s voice sounding different. More sinister, less sane, anything like that.
According to the research of the Silver Circle, that would be a sign Virgil’s power was growing to a further extent than Achilles could withstand it.
They didn’t understand quite how it all worked, but Virgil drew his power from another world, and it accumulated over time while he was conscious. Only the seal Achilles’s father had placed on the blade had prevented it from occurring over all the years in the village.
Achilles sent thoughts through his head, which he knew Virgil could read. “Why did you break the seal, then, and tell me to draw you?”
Achilles shook his head. He sent more thoughts to the sword. “Why do you think he put this on a note in the wallet instead of just telling me? It’s not like I was going to hide it from you. Not like I could even hide it from you.”
Achilles nodded.
Medea, sitting in the seat of the carriage across from Achilles, frowned. “What on Earth are you doing? You keep grimacing and making gestures. Is this just what you look like when you talk to yourself, or is there something more to it that I should know about?”
Achilles flushed. “Sorry. Virgil can read my thoughts and speak into my head. He and I were just having a conversation.”
Medea seemed very interested in this. “Your blade understands you? What did you have to do for that to happen?”
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What an odd question.
Achilles scratched his chin. “I didn’t have to do anything. I picked him up, and we could talk to each other. That was all there was to it.”
She studied his face, as though trying to figure out if he was lying, then finally nodded. “Interesting.”
They said nothing more of substance for the rest of the ride until they got to the caravan station.
On the border of the town, taverns surrounded an open market, and people of all sorts milled around. Flags rose above the crowds here and there, each with the insignia of a caravan company on it.
These companies existed to give merchants and civilian travelers safety in numbers. It was extremely dangerous for a single person to go alone through the wilderness on their way to another town or city.
Wild animals and weak monsters alike could easily kill one man.
However, it was known that even a pack of wolves was unlikely to attack a larger pack of humans. So the caravan companies charged people money for increased safety, and people were happy to pay it.
Medea and Achilles got down from the carriage, and Achilles waved his thanks to the footman who rode away, back toward Sir Azarah’s mansion.
Achilles looked around in mild confusion, for he had never seen a caravan station in person, though caravans had occasionally come through their village.
Medea took him by the elbow and led him to a certain tavern which she said had a reputation for attracting the most reliable caravaneers.
Inside, an enormous boar’s head hung on the wall above the bar, and Medea led Achilles up to this bar to speak with the hulking bartender behind it.
Interestingly, the guy’s system information denoted him as a 3rd Level Barkeep.
Medea nodded to him and passed 3 copper coins across the counter. “We’re heading to the frontier. Going to do some adventuring work. Who would you recommend traveling with?”
The barkeep snatched up the coins with a practiced motion and slammed down two mugs of frothing ale. “Phoenix Talon Company. Captain Kestrel is a fine man, has turned me a good profit many times when I asked him to bring me exotic liquors. He’s looking for guards, so if you are adventuring people, you should be able to get an easy ride.”
Medea nodded and picked up her mug.
Achilles picked up his own and drank it down. It tasted far better than what they had in the village.
On their way out, Achilles said, “I don’t have any copper, but I swear I’ll pay you back for the ale as soon as I can.”
Medea shot him an amused glance. “Over a copper? Don’t worry about it. Just by the next round, all right?”
Achilles grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
A flag with a flaming talon was visible in the distance, so Achilles and Medea made their way toward it.
They quickly emerged through the crowd to find Phoenix Talon Company had set up a clearing in the marketplace for themselves.
Open chests were scattered around, and beefy men wearing the logo of the company were stocking them with goods. Ponies and mules stood about, looking bored and lazy.
A man in a flamboyant outfit with a very pointy beard was arguing with a man and a woman who looked desperate.
“I’m sorry, I truly am, but I can’t compromise my principles just because you need to get out of the city today!” said the man who was clearly Captain Kestrel. “Caravans have been disappearing on the way to the frontier! I simply have to charge more for the sake of insurance. If you can’t afford it, then you’ll just have to go somewhere else.”
The two turned away, looking distraught, and for a moment, Achilles’s instinct was to offer to pay for them.
Achilles saw the truth in what Virgil was saying. Yes, he had to take care of himself at the moment.
He remembered what the barkeep had said. This caravan was looking for adventurers.
Considering it was heading to the frontier, where it was known there were many monsters, perhaps if those people couldn’t defend themselves as adventures along the way, they shouldn’t be going at all.
Captain Kestrel saw that Achilles and Medea were staring at him. “Well, what is it?” he asked, spreading his arms wide.
Before Achilles could speak, Medea stepped forward boldly. She was still wearing her peasant dress and clutching her satchel. “My friend and I are looking for guard passes for your caravan,” she said. “We’re heading to the frontier and can work to pay our way.”
The captain stared back at Medea as though she had just said a hilarious joke. After all, despite her posture and cold eyes, she looked like a commoner.
“Well,” said the captain, “you with the sword! if you beat Bumbo here, you can have a guard pass. I’m afraid that won’t be enough to cover your pretty friend, but it’s better than nothing!”
At these words, a huge, shirtless man stopped loading cargo and turned to face Achilles. He stood three heads taller than Achilles.He was shirtless, with many tattoos of forest predators across his chest. His face looked somewhat fishlike. This was Bumbo, then.
Bumbo picked up a shovel and smacked into the palm of his hand as though it were a club. He gave Achilles a sinister smile.
In response, Achilles drew Virgil, hefted his father’s shield, and charged.