Back with the rest of the group, there was nothing left to do but wait for the rescue. Nua intended to explore the surrounding chambers a little more, but exhaustion finally caught up to her. While the spider artifact kept her alive, it did not heal her entirely. She lost blood that she would have to recover in her own time. The healing device provided some sort of artificial replacement, but it was good only as a stopgap measure, Raya explained. The priestess saw it working once before and that’s how she knew how to operate it.
Nua also had a new red, swollen scar along her right thigh, stitched with a silver thread, and it was beginning to throb. Raya said that the effects of anesthesia were starting to wear off.
Nua stayed awake, propped against the wall next to Quintus, waiting for the others to regain consciousness. The tiny insects were quickly done with Oswald, who was a large man with a constitution of a boar and unlike Mycean Olympic athletes, a layer of fat that provided additional cushion. As he explained at length, the Northern warriors were trained for long battles and not brief feats of prowess. The spiderlings left him with a strange artificial casing that resembled glittery plaster, wrapped around his neck. Quintus noticed Nua trying not to stare and showed her the cast fashioned on his right arm (before, he kept it in a cloth sling and she didn’t notice).
By then, Raya judged Lykomedes was to live. Although returning to the city on his own was out of question.
Be as it may, the spiders could not recover lost limbs or repair severed nerves. The young warrior’s left arm, already injured before, was numb and limp, with no mobility and only traces of feeling. His career as a spearman was effectively over.
“At least I will come back home rich,” he commented. There was a deep sadness in his smile.
It was decided that he would continue traveling with the caravan, then seek a merchant vessel in Vengeance together with Oswald, who had apparently decided that he had some business further up North. Said business was undoubtedly connected to the trophies he collected and the knowledge he amassed in the ruins. He did not elaborate on it, though.
Among the talks, Nua curled up in the corner with someone’s bag as a pillow. With her face comforted by the fabric, she shed a few tears – as she believed, in secret. Everyone lived and there were worse fates than losing an arm, she tried telling herself. She had a purpose now; sooner or later, the Antiquarians would pay. So why did it feel so hollow?
She dreamed of floating in the ocean of ether, blue as the autumn sky, cool as a waterfall.
*****
Nua put the pitchfork away and wiped her forehead, her sweat mixing with dirt. Her old shirt and pants scratched and smelled, but the stench of manure was almost welcome. Nua knew that she was dealt additional work in the stables as a punishment, or at least as a way to spend time without causing trouble until Hessa digested her report and recovered enough to decide what to do with the fallout. A bit of normalcy was what she needed, though. She also liked both the mounts and her fellow workers in the caravan. Zamar was a pleasant company, and Oshana, while infuriating with her overabundance of pity towards the Unsagga companion, was at least pleasant to look at.
Nua couldn’t pretend she was injured anymore. She recovered surprisingly quickly, her wound leaving only a thick, tender scar. Part of that must have been Raya’s sorcery and the device, but the mercenaries took more time to heal. The artifact only fixed the immediate damage, the body had to do the rest.
It had to be the side effect of etheric reinforcement. Without Anki’s help, she mastered the trick of channeling a tiny amount of it, so she would keep it up for hours without showing an aura and drawing attention. She was proud of herself, and she was already imagining his reaction.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Right now, she was tending to the mounts with her colleagues away. Maximus, the gentle giant musushu, was napping in his stall. Shadow watched her work, emitting conversational trills and growls. Since the fight in the dark alley the mount got some weird ideas and now she would sometimes try grooming Nua as if she were a musushu cub. Nua was not a musushu cub and she did not appreciate scratching her with spikes or biting in search for parasites.
The stable door opened and soon enough, Quintus sauntered toward her stalls. His arm was still in the sling and Nua suspected he missed playing his lyre more than using his shield. Otherwise, he was back to his usual nonchalant attitude of a fashionable mercenary who had not a care in this world. Outwardly, at least.
“Hey, Nua. Same old, I see?”
“It happens,” she countered. “I don’t think others are up for a game of cards if that’s what you ask.”
“Well,” he sighed. “You might be right. Although I might keep an eye on you from afar. Epic is the ultimate form of literature, after all.”
“I have no idea what you mean, but if you say so,” Nua shrugged.
“I have something for you,” he added and handed out a packed linen pouch. Nua took it with hesitation, her eyebrows furrowed. It was heavy with coin.
“You’ve earned it,” Quintus assured. “It’s yours.”
Nua peeked inside and her eyes bulged. She did not see a single copper. The pouch was full of gold and silver instead.
“By the River God!”
“That’s just a part of your share,” Quintus explained. “There are about a hundred aurei in there, some silver for convenience. You’ll get more after we reach Vengeance and Idris cashes out the artifacts.”
“A hundred WHAT.”
“You could get a decent musushu and travel gear, but I’d wait with clothes or weapons if I were you,” he said. “I’ve heard you’re having a growth spurt.”
“Great Utu, I’m filthy rich.”
“You’re decently well off,” Quintus corrected. “We're rich. Remember we did not split even? You did fight at the end, so it was decided you get more than planned. Please, seek Hessa’s financial advice. It is woefully easy to overspend if you never had your hands on real coin. Open a bank account, fashion yourself a nest egg. You can’t stop working or you’ll run out of money pretty soon.”
“Now you’re speaking in tongues,” Nua said. “My aunt did books, and I’m good at counting, so I think I’m all right… and I also don’t think this is the kind of money that you can run out of. If you live as normal, that is. I’m not buying a palace. And I’m not giving my gold to the bank to nest eggs, or whatever you call it! They’d just rob me and pretend I never existed.”
“Right. I forgot about the whole Unsagga issue in Azuria,” Quintus sighed. “Just… just believe me you can absolutely spend a hundred aurei. Sooner than you think.”
Nua didn’t believe so, but since Quintus was wealthy by birth, his mileage could vary. Who knows, maybe he was used to drinking the best wine daily and dining on flamingoes. She did some quick math in her head. Considering the average prices of food and lodging, she could, actually, get by without working for a few years. But she realized that the long-term plans of defeating the Antiquarians would require resources. She would probably need to put together her own gang, or overtake an existing one, just to start doing something. And before then, she needed information. It’s not like she could fight the apparent sorcerous princes of the world with fish and barley.
“Now, did I understand correctly that you didn’t want any sorcery?” Quintus asked. “The healing devices are literally lifesaving and you can charge them after use, since, you know.”
“Nope, I’m good. I could see what’s inside, and if I could, others would easily find it on me.”
To their knowledge, no one was listening. But they were cautious regardless. Nua scratched her left arm absent-mindedly, the artificial skin barely different in touch to her own. She already had a sorcerous artifact, one that was easily concealed. She wished that Anki would wake up already and tell her what to do with it. She would never admit it out loud, but she missed the grumpy king, and she worried.
“I understand.” The poet nodded. “We’ll catch up with the caravan in a couple of weeks. This sorcery is marvelous,” he knocked at his plaster, “But deep injuries take time to heal.”
Nua had a vague idea that he wasn’t talking only about his bones.
“Also… be wary of Zaina. Not now. But. We’ll be done with mercenary work as soon as we reach Vengeance.”
She nodded, her heart sinking a little. She would prefer Zaina as a companion, not a potential foe. Another mentor, a friend, perhaps. But sometimes what was broken could not be easily fixed.
“I’ll remember.”
“Now, I met Hessa on the way, and she’d like to talk to you as soon as possible,” Quintus sized her up. “Well, not excessively soon, if you get my meaning. Those carpets are expensive.”
Nua gave him a wide smile. She tossed her coin pouch up, then caught it and hid in her pants, careful so it does not tear through the pocket. Contrary to Quintus’ concerns, she had some propriety and sense with finances, or at least so she thought. She now owned a fortune she could not imagine spending. To save the inn’s carpets a bath was in order, and for this, a caravan token would suffice.