Vincent brushed his hair behind his ear. It was a windy day outside and his locks were blowing about his face. He gave a tug of the reins to Flower and the horse angled himself so that the wind wasn’t so forceful about its desire to be a hairstylist.
Quite a large group had headed into Bilberry today. Merchants were passing through this week, and the abbey brought in a host of goods to trade for supplies. Honey was still being collected, and the barrels of mead from last year’s harvest needed to be sold in order to make room for new brew.
For a place that catered to the care of children, they certainly made a lot of alcohol.
Mostly it was mead and cider. Crabapples flourished in the wild here, and their orchards made for lovely honey. The majority of it would be sold for salt mined from the Clay Region. Salt stored better, never spoiled, and the price was set by law.
Luca and Tish were handed cart affairs while Chester, Evan, and Vincent were on their steeds. Since the abbey was a little ways from the main road, Bilberry served as their main source of communication. While the others went about negotiating trades, Vincent and Chester were to check the postal office for the latest news.
“We’ll part ways here.” Tish flashed Chester and Vincent a smile. “Did you want to meet at a tavern afterward and grab some food before we head back?”
“Vincent, you have to try the fish pie,” chimed in Luca. “I don’t even know where they get the fish, but it’s fantastic!”
“Pass,” replied Evan coldly. He didn’t feel the need to goof off in Bilberry. The sooner they returned to the abbey, the sooner Evan could sort through the supplies and prepare for their trip back to Braytons.
Tish pouted at him. Evan frowned in return. He also didn’t feel like dealing with his captain when she wanted to procrastinate. Her hands wrung together and she pouted at him all the harder. A grunt of disgust escaped Evan’s lips as he looked away.
“We’ll pick up some goods from the nearby bakery,” blurted out Vincent. He didn’t want Evan to snap at Tish again. “A simple variety of items that we can enjoy back at the abbey. The children will no doubt enjoy them.”
“Aww, Vincent. You always know what to say.” Tish skipped over and patted his horse on the neck. “We’ll be done nice and quick, so make sure that you do the same.”
Chester rolled his eyes. “Don’t forget the salt for the stable master this time. That’s the whole reason why we were sent here in the first place.”
The high mineral content of the rock salt made it ideal for it to be ground up and added to horse feed. They were instructed to bring back a few blocks of it. Tish bobbled her head up and down and stitched an invisible ribbon around her finger. As reassuring as she seemed, Chester doubted that she’d remember.
He reached up behind his head and undid the barrette that he kept back there. It was a plain curved oval made of white wood, decorated with sapphires, and held in place with a single stick that went through it. Chester wasn’t certain where Chickadee had gotten the sapphires, but the smaller mage assured him that it was free.
What mattered was that this wasn’t one of his enchanted bindings. It was merely a gift from Chickadee to him. Though Chester had continued to wear binding items to ease his own worries, he hadn’t put them back on since Zaniyah was injured.
Chickadee was right. All he needed was time and meditation. He could already sense he had better control of his magic. The fact that he didn’t have a blowout during an actual life and death combat had served to prove to himself how far he had come. Plus, Maurice had insisted that Claire might show up to fetch him. Wearing such items would leave him unprepared in a match against another elementalist.
“Are you feeling alright?” Vincent had noticed that Chester was spacing out.
The wind died down around Chester. “My hair was getting in my face,” he muttered back. Chester quickly combed back his hair with his fingers and pinned it back in place. “Will the merchants have seeds in their supplies?”
“That would depend on if you are looking for crops or decorative plants,” replied Vincent. “What will you be growing?”
Chester shook his head. “Miss Fletch and Miss Hewitt were setting up a garden and-” He stopped talking when Vincent began to smile smugly at him. “... They force me to help them with tilling the earth and irrigation.”
“Let us check the post first. I will handle the bakery afterward if you would like some time to ask around,” stated Vincent. He adjusted his reins and Flower began to slowly walk down the road. “Mila is fond of sweet peppers.”
“I didn’t ask what Miss Fletch was fond of,” spat back Chester as he guided his horse to follow.
Vincent didn’t say anything, he merely smiled smugly again.
Unlike the plain buildings that made up most of Bilberry, the postal office acted as a focal point in town. It was large, made of white stone, and the decorative embellishments were gilded yearly. Chester and Vincent dismounted next to a service window and waited for the clerk to fetch their mail.
Tish had written over a dozen letters, but little had come back. Only that they should bring Zaniyah back when they could, and that Prince Duxton could handle the slaver situation on his end. He wouldn’t need their assistance.
Vincent was suspecting that something was off. Zaniyah’s squad should’ve visited. Maybe not Sybil, but perhaps Veximarl could’ve done something for her. A few days ago, they had received a letter from the barrack’s stablemaster. He had asked them to increase the amount of salt they would bring back. No other messages from the barracks had been sent.
Today was the last day that he was going to put up with it. If there was no word today, he planned to set off and see Prince Duxton himself. No matter what Duxton said, Vincent was appalled that Shaw hadn’t bothered to show up to visit Zaniyah.
“And I’m telling you that I have all the clearance I need for you to give me that information!”
They could hear a woman yelling inside the building. Vincent and Chester glanced at each other, then Chester shook his head. A bang rang out inside, followed by a clash. Chester reached over and grabbed onto Flower’s reins. He was more of an outdoor fighter. Without a word, Vincent gave the mage an understanding nod and slid off his horse and through the service window.
He was greeted by the sight of Amalfrieda digging her claws into the postmaster’s desk. Papers, stamps, and vials of ink were scattered across the floor. Next to her, Udell was fiddling around in his cloak. After a moment, he pulled out his identification plaque and held it out for the postmaster to inspect.
The man didn’t take it. He gave it a quick glance before calmly staring down Amalfrieda. “I assure you that there has been no fault in our deliveries.” His tone was rough and authoritative. “We have received no word that any of our parcels have failed to reach their destinations.”
Vincent looked between Amalfrieda’s ever threatening pose and the postmaster, who was still refusing to back down. Without a word, he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Udell tsked his tongue, which made Amalfrieda’s gaze snap to him. He then gestured to Vincent to a tip of his head.
“You!” Amalfrieda stomped over and shoved a letter in Vincent’s face. “Explain this!”
Vincent leaned his head back so he could actually read what was on the page. It was a brief letter from Prince Duxton. Orders to return to Braytons as soon as they could. They were to assist Tuton in educating the new first years.
“... It’s a forgery,” muttered Vincent. All it took was a mere glance for him to realize it.
“Yeah! I know!” Amalfrieda spat back.
Vincent frowned. “There is a restaurant nearby that has private dining rooms. We should discuss this there.”
“Agreed,” replied Udell. Amalfrieda immediately huffed at the idea. “Our orders,” he replied in a low, threatening tone.
“Right, right,” grumbled Amalfrieda.
Vincent quickly collected together any mail that was for the abbey and the four of them went to a restaurant. Amalfrieda ordered a beer for herself before they had a chance to find their seats. When Udell attempted to do the same, she spat that he wasn’t old enough and ordered tea for the rest of them. The two then passively glared at each other while Chester examined the forged letter.
“How can you tell that it’s a fake?” Chester held it closer to his face. Everything seemed to be in order, even the stationary appeared authentic.
“Prince Duxton is informal,” replied Vincent. “He would not use official stationary, nor would he give us direct orders unless it was an emergency. The prince would simply state that we should return and seek an assignment from Lady Till.”
Udell put an envelope on the table. “There was an error on the postage placed on the envelope, and it was ‘returned to the sender’ as a result.” He pointed to a stamp. “We believe that the letter originated from Bilberry, but it was mistakenly ‘sent back’ to our lord.”
Vincent was troubled by the news. “The last letter we sent was over a week ago, when we informed Paladin Arbutus of Zaniyah’s injury. This would have been the first message back from them.”
Their conversation abruptly paused when the door opened. They nodded in appreciation as the waiter set their drinks down. Amalfrieda didn’t hesitate to take a big swig of her beer. Chester also immediately took a drink. Flaytongue made him nervous.
“What happened with Blue?” Asked Udell.
Vincent hesitated. He waited for the door to close before he replied. “She was struck in the back with an arrow of true faith. Zaniyah has survived the initial infection, but it is unlikely that she will ever walk again.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Amalfrieda set her mug down and covered her mouth with a hand as a very long series of curse words were spat out. She tensed up as Udell set a hand on her shoulder. “I wanted my rematch,” she snarled under her breath.
“Who sent the letter?” Asked Udell.
“Captain Maplehammer,” replied Chester. “We received word back from Lady Blu, asking us to transport her back to the barracks when her condition was stable.”
Udell narrowed his eyes. “And you’re certain that letter was also not a forgery?”
“I didn’t see it myself. Captain Maplehammer handles all of our correspondence,” answered Chester.
Udell sat back in his chair. He placed a hand on his chin.
“We need to tell Shaw,” muttered Amalfrieda.
“Tell me about the attack,” said Udell. He listened carefully as Chester gave his report and barely asked a question. Once all was said and done, he returned to his thinking position.
“We need to tell Shaw,” repeated Amalfrieda.
“Our place is here,” replied Udell. “It is likely that the slavers are somehow intercepting correspondence.”
Chester shook his head. “Why would slavers have access to the prince’s stationery?”
“They have connections to the barracks,” replied Udell. “Someone within the barracks could have stolen it. Our dorms are practically empty, and all Bronzescale members but Beat are with our lord. We do not have the eyes we need at home.” He looked over to Vincent. “How valuable is this ‘Maurice’? How is he important to them?”
Vincent and Chester shared a glance, where Chester shook his head. “He has magic capable of manipulating the mind,” answered Vincent. Chester immediately glared at Vincent.
Amalfrieda was visibly confused. “Like a priest of Eatha? Never heard of one of those.”
“The mind mage that manipulated Miss Twist,” replied Udell. Amalfrieda grinned to herself. “They must have assumed Miss Twist had fled this way and sent him to intercept.”
Amalfrieda struggled to suppress a giggle. “So we execute him and go back to tell Shaw about Blue?” Udell nodded, which made Amalfrieda smile all the wider.
“He isn’t dangerous,” quickly replied Chester.
“His presence had already compromised your safety,” said Udell calmly. “You have become isolated. Your enemies are in full control of your movements and your information.” He tapped a finger against the forged letter. “This is no doubt a ruse to get you to move Maurice out of the abbey so that they may recapture him. It is in your best interest to execute him before the situation becomes worse.”
Chester stood up. A chill ran through the room and he took a breath in order to calm himself down. “Maurice is not dangerous.”
“He has a slaver’s mark,” added Vincent. “We have a ring that controls him. No doubt that this is a precarious situation, but I will not stand idle if you choose to murder a man who is himself a victim.”
Amalfrieda rubbed at her temples. “I don’t want to deal with your sentimental bullshit,” she grumbled. “Why does it matter if he’s a victim? The law is the law.”
Udell stood up and put a hand to his hip, where his chains were. “The law states that those will illegal magic are to be executed. Regardless of your opinion, the law is on our side. We are to abide by it.”
Vincent stood up as well. “The law is bullshit,” he coldly spat back.
His hand snapped to the side and his golem appeared next to him. Udell’s eyes flitted to the golem. He took a moment to study its form. Both of his hands went up in the air as a gesture of surrender.
“We’ll allow the courts to decide,” reasoned Udell. “But I wish to interview him first.”
Vincent studied him for a moment before unsummoning his golem. “I will stand with you during that interview.”
“Your mission was to be in the north, with Duke Sickleson,” replied Udell. “You have no authority here. It will be myself and Captain Maplehammer. No one else.”
Before another word could be said, Chester interrupted. “That’s fine.” He wanted to get out of here before a fight could start. Flaytongue was bad enough as it was, but Flaytongue in such close quarters felt like a blade was already digging into his throat.
Udell left Amalfrieda with the pair and returned to the post office alone. He wished to send their fastest messenger to Braytons. The truth of the current situation needed to be sent. Chester excused himself to buy items from the bakery. Luca and Tish returned to the meeting spot before he had a chance to get back, where Vincent informed them of the situation.
Tish was left feeling mortified. “You were right to tell them that the law is barbaric, Vincent. We can’t let them get near Maurice. People shouldn’t be punished for the way they were born, only for how they use the power they were blessed with. Maurice was never given a choice.” She took a step behind Vincent when Amalfrieda glared at her.
Luca wasn’t convinced. “I don’t want to say it, but I don’t know if Maurice has a good life ahead of him. The guy will never meet people who can trust him. Maybe it’s best if-”
“Don’t you dare suggest that you agree with them, Luca Klein Atwater! This squad has no place for such heartless thoughts!” Tish stamped her boot into the dirt.
“... I was going to suggest we find a way for him to run away, but we hardly know the man. We have no reason to trust him.” Luca folded his arms and gave Tish a stern look,
Evan let out an annoyed scoff. “Every man has the right to get a fair trial in court. We are neither judge nor executioner, nor is it our place to help him escape persecution. We must follow the law.”
Vincent was still on the fence. “We will let them talk to Maurice and adjust our plans afterward.”
Tish pouted at him. She continued to pout all the way back to the abbey. Once they returned, the group split apart to do their individual tasks. Whether it was to empty out the wagon or interrogate a man, there was a lot to do.
Udell followed Tish and Luca up to the infirmary. It was already well into the afternoon, and Maurice was on his fourth or fifth story. Zaniyah nearly greeted Tish and Luca with a smile, but her face quickly shifted to disgust when she noticed Udell standing behind them.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Blue. Give me the ring.” Udell went to her bed and held out his hand.
Zaniyah stared at his hand. “... Uh, no?” Her eyes flitted from his hand to his stern glare.
Tish was tense. She didn’t want to take part in their argument. “Mister Tardivel only wishes to ask Maurice a few questions.” She leaned over the infirmary bed and put her hand on Zaniyah’s cheek. “I’ll be with him the whole time. We’ll bring him right back afterward. Everything will be fine.”
A rush of euphoria hit Zaniyah’s senses. Once she realized what Tish was casting something, she slapped the priestess’ hand away. Tish was clearly shocked by Zaniyah’s sudden rejection. She took a step back as Zaniyah viciously rubbed at her cheek. That wretched magic felt so violating that Zaniyah had struck Tish far harder than she meant to.
“I-I’m sorry,” stammered out Tish. “I didn’t mean to….” She shook her head back and forth.
Maurice took hold of Zaniyah’s hand. “I’ll be fine.” He knelt next to the bed and tightened his grip.
Zaniyah glared at Tish for a moment before she turned her attention to Maurice. “This guy is completely nutso,” she whispered loudly. “Don’t go with him.”
“I don’t have a choice,” he replied. “I’ll be okay... Today was fun and I’ll see you soon. I’ll tell you a new story before you go to sleep.”
He slipped the ring off of Zaniyah’s finger and handed it to Udell, who quickly slipped it over his pinky. Maurice tensed up, clutching onto the side of his head for a moment. Udell was less than pleased by the reaction.
“Move,” he commanded.
Zaniyah shot a glare at him. “It takes a moment for him to get used to it, okay? Don’t be a dick. He’s not in control of how it works.”
Udell returned her glare for a moment before shaking his head. He began to walk out the door, with Maurice obediently following after him. Tish hesitated, head quickly moving back and forth as she looked between Udell and Zaniyah. She blurted out a quick apology before following Udell as well.
Zaniyah’s hands tightened against her sheets. Her teeth gritted together and she let out a low growl. Wordlessly, Luca moved across the room. He began to collect items that he tossed into a mortar. After grinding them together, he placed them in a device that he used to brew medicine.
Those moments of silence did nothing but fill Zaniyah with dread. “They’re going to kill him,” she whispered.
“Vincent is pushing for Maurice to get a fair trial,” muttered Luca. “The court will likely push for his execution.”
“It’s not fair,” replied Zaniyah with a whine.
“People are always going to fear what they don’t understand.” Luca poured the concoction into a cup and placed it on her nightstand. “It’s a sedative.” Zaniyah stared at the cup suspiciously. “You’re doing that hand twitch thing that you do when your back is bothering you.”
“That stuff always makes me pass out,” grumbled Zaniyah. “And then I have these really weird dreams.” She made a chopping motion with her hands, in order to get her point across. “Really weird.”
“Mister Tardivel will likely take several hours to get the information he needs,” replied Luca. “Sleep it off. Nothing we do will change the outcome of their interview.”
Zaniyah begrudgingly drank the bitter concoction and flopped over. It wasn’t long before she was sleeping peacefully. Luca adjusted her blankets for her before he left the room. He returned several minutes later with a stack of papers that he began to carefully study.
An hour passed before Evan entered the room with his hand over his eye. He had taken off his armor, which was unusual, because he acted as though his armor was a second skin, and his boots, choosing to go barefoot. Luca was taken aback by the sight. Not because of the lack of armor but because Evan’s tunic was torn and slightly stained with blood.
“What happened to you?” Luca stood up from his desk.
“Duel,” bluntly replied Evan. He removed his hand from his face, revealing a horrid looking black eye.
Luca placed a set of fingers against the corner of Evan’s eye. The wound slowly began to heal. “... Did you win?”
“...” Evan’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. “It was a draw.” He frowned all the harder as Luca noticed the bite wounds on his neck. The cleric was grinning to himself. “Shut it.”
“Honor and solace among men,” replied Luca innocently.
Evan chose to look anywhere but where Luca was standing. He couldn’t stand the sight of the cleric’s sly smile. His attention was quickly drawn to Luca’s desk, specifically to the papers on it. Brushing Luca aside, he went to inspect them.
“Why do you have Tish’s belongings?” He turned and glared at Luca.
“I wanted to see if any of her letters had been forged,” replied Luca. Evan gritted his teeth. “Vincent told me a lot about what happened in Baron Rockender’s territory. If there is someone trying to control our situation from the outside, those letters are our only way to find out who it is.”
“Then you should have asked the captain for permission to go through her belongings,” snarled Evan.
Luca stood his ground. He took a deep breath and made an attempt to look taller, though he still wasn’t as tall as Evan. “And what if I can’t trust our captain?”
Evan was visibly confused by the question.
“Baron Rockender was bribed to leave his post by someone in the Violet Region. It’s possible that we…” Luca’s hand formed into a fist before he loosened up. “I don’t want to think about it, but we might not be able to trust Tish or Chester or anyone else from that region. Not Gwyn or Ivy or several of the second years as well.”
Evan didn’t say anything. The gears were slowly twisting about in his head.
“I am merely a doctor’s apprentice,” said Luca as he put a hand to his chest. “I don’t know anything about politics or betraying one’s friends, but-”
“Captain Maplehammer has done much to not earn my trust, but she is not a traitor,” snarled Evan. “She’s to stupid to be one. All of those women are.” He firmly and painfully jabbed a finger against Luca’s chest. “And if you ever suggest that Chester has or will do anything to betray us, I will end your life.”
And that was a threat that Luca honestly believed Evan would go through with. “... Right.” He carefully stepped around Evan and began to pick up the papers. “I will go put these back in Tish’s room before she notices they went missing.”
Luca tucked the stack into his arms and headed towards the door. A loud bang rang out as the door slammed open, knocking Luca to the ground. He let out a brief curse as the papers had flown upward and out of his grasp.
Amalfrieda stood in the doorway, seething in rage. She, like Evan, had small tears in her clothes and splotches of blood. Unlike, Evan, she didn’t seem all that interested in seeking out the skills of a cleric. Her fist banged against the door as her voice hollered out.
“Where are they?!”