Barely a mile had passed before the groups separated to head in their ordered trajectories. Valentin’s column crossed the fields that Valentin and Maeve had passed through on their first adventure. A thin trail that the pair were previously unaware of led the way through the rolling landscape.
Valentin allowed Vescal to follow the path while he continued to inspect the map. The mature horse was clever and needed little direction from its rider.
“Where to first, my Deggan?” Barth grunted.
“The closest place to us is the village of Arregan. I think we should spend a few days there gathering information before continuing onto the remaining places. If our questioning brings up different locations, we will check those as well.”
“You’re taking this quite seriously,” the man remarked.
“What do you think we should do, Barth?” Valentin inquired, hoping that soliciting the warrior’s opinion would restore the perceived damage that he had previously done.
Barth raised his eyebrow. “We don’t know enough to call for a different plan. However, I doubt that you’ll find the information you seek there.”
“Why is that?”
“We’ve been through Arregan several times before,” Barth answered. “It hasn’t turned out anything good. Though the ale they serve there is worth the visit anyways.”
“I see,” Valentin replied, rolling up his map and stowing it away.
The path wound around the edge of the forest. Valentin scanned the forest to identify the place where the previous bodies had been left. With the shack burned down, Valentin could not make out any landmarks that would help him in his search.
Valentin allowed his horse to fall back in the order. The column would reach Arregan with or without him at the lead. Instead, he pulled alongside one of the several supply carts at the back of the column. Maeve sat amongst the sacks and crates. She jostled with every bump and dip like the rest of the cargo. Valentin felt some sympathetic nausea, but it seems that the druid was not affected the same way he was.
“Do you hear anything?” He inquired casually.
“The whispers of the spirits are not of value to your search,” Maeve responded. “I will let you know if I hear anything strange.”
“I didn’t think that you would show up,” Valentin remarked.
“You already said it yourself, I possess an ability that can prove useful,” she replied plainly, as though the decision was obvious. “It is something that only I can do.”
Maeve rummaged through her bag and revealed another charm. She tossed the runic necklace towards the boy and he managed to catch it by the twine that was threaded through it.
“Thank you,” Valentin said with a smile, draping the charm over his head.
“If you’d prefer, you can ride with me,” Valentin offered, knowing that he’d appreciate it if the roles were reversed.
“Maybe another time,” she declined.
“I see,” Valentin replied awkwardly.
Without a word of farewell, he broke away from the girl and began his way back up to the front of the column. Barth and his vice-deggan, Keefe, halted their conversation at the reappearance of their temporary leader. They offered Valentin expected looks of forced respect before falling in line behind him.
The remainder of the ride to Arregan was uneventful, if not pleasant. Monstrous white clouds lumbered across the crisp sky, occasionally covering the entire column in shadow. The balmy air seemed to coax the traveling warriors into a leisurely pace that matched the overhead clouds. Birds chirped from their high arboreal nests offering a high pitched serenade to those below. Small game rustled through the underbrush and clambered up the tree trunks.
Arregan entered view in the back half of the day. The village had no more than one hundred people in population. It was an unremarkable agrarian settlement that would bring little attention from the outside world. Valentin watched villagers hunch over their plowed fields. He heard the villagers scream at their fields. A chaotic swarm of birds fluttered from their concealed place in the field back into the trees.
As they got closer, Valentin could see the labors of the early cycle. Farmers dug their soil stained fingers into the soil, ripping out weeds by the handful, root and all. Wheelbarrows were filled with the unwelcome invaders and carried off. The boy felt the muscles in his back tense up with memory of the menial work. He remembered crawling on his knees, plowing his fingers through the soil to find the roots of the weeds that threatened to choke the grape vines. To make it worse, in the early seasons, there were no ripened grapes that he could stow away in his mouth.
The only landmark of Arregan was a sizable wooden inn that sat in the center of the village. It appeared to serve as the nexus of the settlement. Even during the peak work hours, people were scurrying in and out of the doors of the establishment.
“Barth, do we already have a preferred campsite around the area?” Valentin asked. While it seemed that the villagers were accustomed to seeing the banners of the Armée, he knew that they did not take up all the rooms in the inn.
“We do,” he answered, slightly surprised by his leader’s consideration. “Keefe, why don’t you get us set up? I’m sure that Deggan Valentin would like to get to work right away.”
Keefe nodded and took up the mantle of column leader. As the warriors walked through the village towards their destination, Valentin and Barth rode towards the inn.
“Before we start at the inn, I’d like to meet with the village leader first,” Valentin stated. “Do you know where we would meet them?”
Barth chuckled, “My deggan, the proprietor of the inn is the Village Elder.”
Once Valentin gave it a moment of thought, the fact made an abundance of sense. Unless they were exceedingly humble, there were no other buildings that he had seen that would be suitable for an Elder.
The pair hitched the horses and entered the inn. The inn’s first floor was the tavern. Likely used as the village’s assembly hall, there was an abundance of seating available for such an occasion. Along the far wall, cracked round shields that had long since outlasted their use hung at set intervals. Most were of an unremarkable design. Flat colors, spirals, and flared crosses dominated most of the installments. Only a couple contained an interesting emblem.
“Welcome to the Arregan Inn,” an elderly woman greeted from one of the tables on the left side of the room. Her green eyes sparkled with grandmotherly kindness and deep smile lines marked her face.
She wore a handsome blue bliaut with a fur-lined cloak and shared a table with similarly dressed traders. While none looked particularly noble, they were all of a class above the peasants that toiled the field. It was a group that Roland Duvin would find kindred spirits with to talk about coin and caravan with.
Their table was covered in various scrolls and leather bound ledgers and small sacks full of coins. They had paused their conversation to take stock of the two new entrants. A couple had already returned their attention to what they had been working on.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Valentin replied graciously. “I am looking for the village elder, would you happen to know where to find them?”
“What, are you a lost kid? What body did you pilfer that armor off of?” One of the traders replied, turning his back to Valentin.
Valentin sighed. This behavior was something that he thought might happen. His scrawny stature was anything but imposing and his voice lacked the depth that commanded the respect from others.
Barth encroached on the table, leaning over the papers of the traders. An amused grin was plastered upon his face, showing that he wished to be confrontational on this matter. A quick glance was shot Valentin’s way. Perhaps this was Barth’s way of testing how he would manage the situation.
“I would advise treating my leader with some more respect,” Barth cautioned with a low voice. “You may learn fairly quickly how he obtained his equipment.”
He brushed his hands over the man’s clothes. “Your cloak looks quite nice.”
“It is poor manners to spill blood in the home of someone that you’re making a request of,” Valentin said stoically, trying to play the part that was handed to him. “However, courtesy towards the host will not be enough to forgive your disrespect.”
“You’re very correct,” the woman agreed with a shallow nod. “It is poor form to act violently in someone else’s home. Just as it is impolite to disrespect the guests in someone else’s home. Rafferty, apologize to my guest.”
“Apologies for my rudeness,” the merchant quickly apologized with a bow.
It was more an apology to the woman than it was to him, however, Valentin did not wish to continue to escalate things further. Barth had also stepped away from the table with an expression of satisfaction.
“I must ask for your patience, young warrior,” the woman requested. “I must tend to these arrangements before I can you out. While you wait, your manners have earned you a drink on me.”
Valentin bowed and made his way towards one of the tables. Barth joined him shortly afterwards.
“Are you not going to accept the free drink?” Barth asked with an eyebrow raise. “It’s not good form to decline gifts.”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll give the gift to you,” Valentin replied, sensing an opportunity to solidify their partnership.
“A mug of their best mead will suit me nicely.”
When Valentin returned, Barth had removed his helmet and set it to the side. The warrior kept his hair and beard cut close over his wide head. His face was reddened from the stuffy armor that they wore. The bridge of his nose was crooked from a long ago break that was never set properly
Barth gave a toothy grin when the beverage was placed before him, revealing a chipped tooth. He took a healthy swig and gave a satisfied exhale.
“There are few things nicer than a drink on a warm day,” Barth said. “It tastes even better when it’s free. Thank you.”
“I will be relying on your experience going forward,” Valentin explained. “Allow it to be my apology for my earlier behavior. I was too forceful with my words and caused disrespect.”
“No need to be so formal, Deggan Valentin,” the warrior replied amiably. “I understand that you wished to establish the hierarchy. However, I would recommend you do it more thoughtfully next time. You set yourself as our leader, but you also set the two of us as enemies. If you weren’t a child that was learning, we would have already come to blows.”
“I will do better next time,” Valentin confirmed.
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“That’s enough of the apologies,” the man dismissed, downing the rest of his mead and sliding his mug to the side. “Let’s talk about the plan.”
Valentin procured his map and unrolled it onto the table. He placed his finger on the demarcated village of Arregan. In terms of the scale of their search area, the village was essentially directly next to camp.
“If nothing turns up here,” Valentin began, running his finger up the road that ran through the village. “We will continue to travel through these villages to Galleat. If that fails, we will travel a bit further until we break from the road to search for Gladaghol Castle. If that fails, then we have to push deeper to the town of Tennaught. Then we return to camp. I believe we should leave tomorrow. You say that this village has nothing to offer so I see no reason to stay too long here.”
Barth held both of his hands up. “Slow down, Deggan Valentin. While your plan is comprehensive, don’t you feel that it is a bit dense?”
“How so?”
The warrior tapped his finger on the map, accentuating the question mark that Julianna scribbled next to Gladaghol castle. “If we stopped and questioned all of these villages, we would reach the twenty day mark while we are hunting for a castle that exists in rumors. Don’t you think that would be a waste of everyone’s time? We’ve scoured these lands for nearly fifty days and they ask us to scour for twenty more. The warriors are weary of scouring.”
Valentin rested his right hand against his lips. He had considered that Ferron’s offer of reward had not been enough to motivate his troops. Over the course of these fifty days, they had yet to pool together one thousand eagles, even with Ferron’s clever ploy to multiply the rewards.
“What do you propose then?” Valentin inquired, hoping that Barth had a solution in mind already.
Barth grinned and pointed a heavy finger down on a town approximately forty miles to the west of Arregan. Julianna had written sparse notes on the region, stating that letters to the location were not returned and there was little reported activity to work with.
“I say that we should go to Cael Morgen,” Barth declared with a jovial grin. “I doubt that a nobleman would willingly hide in the forests for almost an entire cycle. “It’s not as fortunate as if we got Sarcinel in our assigned region, but Cael Morgen is a fine town. Isn’t it more likely that he is staying in a nicer settlement? One that is likely to be overlooked by people that may be searching for him.”
“If we go to Cael Morgen, we will spend a considerable amount of time there since our information is weak. We will not have the ability to investigate most of the region that we were tasked to,” Valentin expressed with concern.
“If there is a high likelihood that we fail either way, wouldn’t it be better to fail in a nice town than in the woods?” Barth countered before another hungry grin crossed his lips. “Besides, if we go now, we can make it in time for the Festival of the Mother. I’ll tell you that in Rilleon, they have all the courtesans march through the streets with only body paint to cover them up. When the breeze hits just right-”
“I see,” Valentin interrupted, no longer interested in hearing Barth’s shameless position. “You do know there are some warriors loyal to Julianna in our deg.”
“Bah,” Barth dismissed with a wide swipe of his hand. “They’re hot blooded just like we are. Nothing a silver eagle and a night with a companion wouldn’t be able to fix. Even the staunch Gelliman famously betrayed his people for some gold and a screw.”
“I’ll consider it,” Valentin assured. He was no longer interested in debating the topic.
“That’s the spirit,” Barth commended, slapping the table and rising from his seat. “I’m going to get another mead.”
Valentin bounced his leg with nervous energy. Steepled fingers propped up his troubled head. He had not expected a deviation before the first day had even ended. Nor had he planned for Barth to be so flippant in the face of his responsibilities. While Barth wrapped his suggestion thinly in sound meritorious reasoning, it did not take long before he showed his true intentions. Even if he agreed to the suggestion, he had his doubts that the warriors would spend much, if any, time inquiring about Sothin Marche’s whereabouts.
He was not ignorant of how precarious his position was. Somehow, the accomplishment of the mission needed to be balanced with the deg’s complete disinterest in accomplishing it. Two rigid mental walls were squeezing him on both sides. He could not navigate one without crushing himself against the other one.
“Such an expression does not fit one of your age,” the old woman commented from beside him. She occupied the chair that Barth vacated.
“I appreciate you meeting with me,” Valentin said, relaxing his facial muscles.
“It would be impolite to turn away an important member of the famous Armée du Corbeaux,” the woman replied in an overly sweet voice that made Valentin question how sincere the woman actually was.
“My name is Valentin Guerros,” the boy introduced.
“I’m Edana Loughlan, the Head of Arregan,” the woman returned the introduction.
Two mugs of beer were set in front of the pair by innworkers. A loaf of bread with a bowl of honey was placed between the two of them. Edana motioned towards the bread, inviting the boy to eat the gift.
Valentin slowly reached forth and took the loaf, ripping a piece off the end before setting it back on the table. He dunked the soft dough into the honey and made sure that it had a thick coating before shoving the intensely sweet flavors into his mouth. He washed down the flavors with a swig of beer. The weakly brewed alcohol tasted faintly of herbs and barley and left a pleasant aftertaste when mixed with the honey.
His satisfied eyes betrayed his otherwise stoic expression, causing the woman to chuckle.
“What is it that I can do for you?”
“We are looking for a noble from Etrineux that departed the region during Grian last cycle. Their name is Sothin Marche. Have you seen them?” Valentin asked with a serious expression.
Edana had removed a much smaller portion of the bread. She dipped the food with dainty grace. She obscured her mouth with her left hand and ate the meal with her right.
“I have not heard the name,” Edana answered after finishing her bite with some beer. “It is not unusual for lower nobles and gentry to pass through this village on their way west. Oh how they love to show their banners and announce their passing so that we all must take note of their excellence. If the nobleman you seek passed through here, then he was one of the few with the sense to not declare themselves.”
“I heard that quite a few went on to meet with Catria Eanna. Do you know anything about these rumors?”
“What I know about Catria Eanna is that some of our best warriors were enticed by her recruiting efforts,” the woman said with unexpected derision. “Even after we were asked to send them more money, they aren’t even returning back home.”
“What do you mean? Shouldn’t the warbands disband now that the issue is resolved?” Valentin inquired with great interest.
“It was about ten…maybe fifteen days ago?” Edana began, her head slightly tilted to the side and her eyes stared skywards in recollection. “A couple of our recruited warriors returned to drink at the Inn. They talked about a ‘great war in the North’ that would have them be as rich as the Sovereign. You know, the kind of thing that young people aspire for. However, now I feel that they were being more serious than I thought.”
“I too have heard rumors of this war,” Valentin added, remembering back to what he had learned of Darri’s new warband. “I find it likely that it is the purpose of Catria’s meetings with these nobles.”
“If the man you’re looking for met with Eanna, then he would be nearby. Have you checked her camp directly?” Edana inquired.
“Up until recently, we were not on great terms. There is another group heading towards the camp instead,” Valentin explained.
“I knew as much,” the woman replied with a smile but that quickly faded. “If you don’t excuse me, I have to return to my duties. Our payment to Tiarna Eanna has left us in a strange position.”
“You have already sent the money?”
“A couple days ago, yes. We were told to send it to Galleat. Though now that I think it may be going to a war chest, I almost wish that I declined,” she frowned before giving a courteous bow to Valentin. “Enjoy your meal and I hope you stay the night with us.”
Seeing that Edana had left the table, Barth returned to the seat with his beverage still firm in hand. How many he had already drank, Valentin could not say.
“Did you learn anything about Sothin?”
“Nothing definitive,” Valentin replied with a shake of his head. “She did offer some other information that I need to consider though. I will think about it overnight.”
Barth took another large drink from his mug and grinned. “Then I think we’ll have a good time tonight while you mull over your decision.”
That evening, to further showcase the majority of the deg’s feelings towards the expedition, a raucous gathering of warriors and villagers erupted within the Arregan Inn. Casks of strong ale were cracked open and flowed endlessly into the cups of the patrons.
The spacious floor of the inn allowed for the tables to be adjusted and created a large open space in the middle of the floor to allow for dancing. Some sparse roughhousing between drunks and favorless arm wrestling between barrel chested farm boys and trained mercenaries broke out on the periphery of the dancing area.
One of the locals took to their lute and played some drinking songs that Valentin did not know. Although the playing was amateurish and full of flaws, the drunken patrons cared little about the sound and belted out the words of the tunes without care for key or harmony. After every song they would laugh and hang their arms around each other’s shoulders before filling their cups for another round.
Some of the warriors drew quite close to some of the locals and prostitutes of the town. They spoke honeyed words to their partners in the hope of coaxing out some of their coins. A few pairs had conspicuously disappeared upstairs only to return later looking disheveled and jolly. Those that had returned were always cheered for by those that still partied below.
Valentin kept to the side of the inn and nursed another weak beer. His sleep deprived mind found the overwhelming sounds to verge upon bearable. Each out of tune song and bellow of laughter from the revelers brought an uncomfortable wave of pain into his skull. Each subsequent wave was worse than the one before it, however, he stayed resolutely in his seat and braved the party.
Appearances were the only motivation of his continued presence in the establishment. He did not wish for it to seem as though he were disapproving of the occasion. If his intent was to make observers believe that he was enjoying himself, he was failing miserably.
“You could try to look less miserable,” a warrior sat across from Valentin with two beers in his hand. He passed the second beer to Valentin.
“I didn’t know that you were in the deg, Renne,” Valentin said with as much emotion that he could muster.
“Not just me, but Coralie and all of the other orphan mercenaries from the Curs have been recruited for this mission. It is our opportunity to turn from dogs to ravens,” Renne explained. He wiped some sweat from his forehead before chugging his beverage. “I must admit that this deg has made a good first impression. Though I do find it strange that its leader sits far away and alone.”
“That is because the real leader has little interest in accomplishing what we have set out to do,” Valentin replied coldly. “Those loyal to him share the idea, no doubt. If I agree with him, then every night will be like this once we reach Cael Morgen.”
“Just in time for the Festival of the Mother,” Renne commented with a sly grin on his face. “Usually we are fighting or traveling and miss it. That would be a treat.”
Seeing Valentin’s unamused face, Renne dropped the topic. Noticing that his gift ale was not taken, Renne began to drink that as well.
Valentin did not bring up any topics to the warrior. It was all that he could do to stay awake at this point. The loud swells of song were his crutch to stay above the depths of sleep. Yet the warrior stayed and drank. He wondered why Renne showed up to his table at all. It was not as though he had forgiven Valentin for killing his deggan.
Renne finished his drink and left the empty mugs on Valentin’s table. “Ah,” he sighed in satisfaction. “That was just the break I needed. Thank you for the thrilling conversation, my Deggan.”
“I hope we can work well together,” Valentin responded.
Before departing, he leaned back in and spoke directly to Valentin to ensure that he’d be heard over the sounds of the inn. “As a word of advice before I go, it may be better to retire for the night if you are so tired.”
“Why is that?”
“You look like you hate everyone here,” Renne replied. “I don’t think that it makes you seem all that personable. Warriors like somebody they feel cares about them, you know? Now get out of here before you sober me up.”
“Maybe my efforts to be present have done the opposite of what I wanted,” Valentin conceded, slowly rising from his seat. He was too tired to consider the potential negatives of what had occurred. Whatever needed to be done could be done in the morning.
“I will see you tomorrow.”
Valentin departed from the inn and the sounds flowed out from behind him and spilled out into the streets. Fresh air served to soothe the boy’s headache, if only slightly. The dying light of day darkened the emptied streets of the village. Valentin was convinced that the entire village was in the inn at the sight before him.
He found Vescal where he left the horse. The animal chewed on a bundle of hay that was brought out to it and the trough it stood by was filled with fresh water. Valentin collected some of the loose hay that covered the ground and fed it to his steed.
Once he had led the horse a bit away from the inn, he threw a leg over the horse and urged it in the direction of camp. As long as he followed the directions that Keefe gave him when the warriors first began to pour into the inn, he would be fine.
“Deggan Valentin,” a voice came barreling out of the door of the inn to chase after the boy.
“Yes?” Valentin asked with as much patience as he could gather. Now that he made the decision to sleep, he could not help but find everything that stood in the way of it to be an unacceptable inconvenience.
“Deggan Valentin, my name is Dacin,” Dacin introduced himself with the slurred words of one that had been drinking directly from the cask. The young man stood with a wide stance to prevent himself from falling forwards on his face.
“Yes, I saw when you briefed Lutant on the Concasque expedition,” Valentin replied with annoyance. “What is it that you need from me?”
“I’d like to make a complaint!” He shouted, stumbling forward slightly.
“Yes?” Valentin asked, trying to hurry this process along. The angrier he got with Dacin, the more he realized how terrible he must have looked just moments ago.
“I don’t think that you should have ordered Maeve to join this expedition.”
“I didn’t order her,” Valentin sharply corrected. “I offered her a spot in the expedition and she accepted of her own volition. It is my intention to honor her decision and leave her amongst our ranks.”
“It doesn’t matter if you ordered her or not,” Dacin spat, his better judgments melted away by alcohol. “She can’t fight well. What if something happens? Who will make sure that she isn’t harmed if we are attacked?”
“Then that’s your job Dacin,” Valentin ordered, too tired to argue with the warrior. He turned Vescal and had him begin his trot back towards camp.
“Huh?”
“Your responsibility is to make sure that nothing bad happens to Maeve.”
Valentin rode away from the confused warrior. Dacin raised a valid point, someone should be keeping an eye out for her besides Valentin. He briefly worried if Maeve would rebuke his arrangement, however, those concerns were short lived.