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Lugon: The Dawn of Life (Epic Fantasy)
Chapter 7.2: Lady of the Silver Tongue

Chapter 7.2: Lady of the Silver Tongue

Ayuen

The Grasping Isle, near Herhor’s End

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/876104022833127448/1035480837178794015/Terraz_Codex.png]Ayuen didn’t know that the Herhor could even make that face, let alone be that startled by something. What in the blazes was going on? Instead of feeling some manner of smug satisfaction at the Herhor’s frightened demeanour, she found herself suspiciously eyeing the riders. Clearing her throat, she spoke up to the leader.

“Yes, of course, you may.” The Pyrn woman said in her most friendly tone of voice. “What can we help you and your company with?”

She then gave Rove a good stab in the back to snap him out of his bloody stupor. So much for being a professional, right? Going by the sharp inhale she heard from the man, it succeeded. The Herhor gave the group a small nod, seemingly content with letting her do the talking for now, which suited her just fine.

The leader nodded at her compliance, obviously relieved that nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen now that Rove didn’t look at his chest like he’d seen a Bovnaz from the tales of old.

“We are looking for a pair of travellers. An old woman together with a younger man. If you’d have any information about their whereabouts, we’d be in your debt if you could provide us with such.”

At this, Ayuen’s blood ran cold in her veins for a moment. Damn it! They were looking for them! How in the name of Legria’s Tits had they been able to get tipped off.

Then, a moment of clarity. Their targets were an older woman and a man. She had lost her disguise when she blasted their previous assailants away. And none of those assailants had survived. So they were looking for people that weren’t there! Inwardly, she cheered at this realization.

Rove in the meanwhile muttered incoherently to the man, saying something in the vein of not having seen any such people on the road. That man was a hot mess all of a sudden.

“I can’t say we have, sir.” She smoothly picked it up, giving the captain her most adorable and lovely smile from underneath her hood.

“Although we did encounter a couple of carts heading in the direction of Handport, so maybe they’ve acquired transport to there?”

Answering was still mandatory, and she had to throw them for a loop. Denying that she saw anything would only be taken as suspicious behaviour. Playing this smartly was paramount.

“Would you mind if I’d inquire why you are looking for these two people?” She continued, tilting her head just a tad.

To his credit, the captain did try to lie. Emphasis on try. But his face went blank and a bit of strain was clear as day within his tone.

“These two people committed crimes against the governors of the Grasping Isle, ma’am. They’re charged with murder, theft from local traders, and bribery.”

Murder and theft? A bit bland and clichée, but all right. That they chose murder when she had disguised herself as an old crone was weird, but she couldn’t complain.

“Oh, my.” She replied with her best-surprised voice, her eyes widening as she put her hand before her mouth. Ayuen was a poet and a bit of an actor, so this came quite easy to her. At the very least, she was more apt at lying than the captain.

“I hope you’re able to capture them before they do any more damage, sir.”

“Thank you, ma’am, we do our best.” Bowing his head, the leader gave the rest of his men a sign, after which they proceeded further down the road. “Thank you for your cooperation, ma’am. And please try to teach your husband not to glare daggers at every armed traveller on the road, that’d be dandy.”

Ayuen sniggered, eyeing Rove for a moment.

“I’ll thrive to reel in my lovely husband, sir. Good journey and may Garemba give you all the clues you need!”

“… I’ll try next time,” Rove said weakly. “Have a… nice trip.”

And with that, the riders rode away, the sound of a myriad of hooves hitting the ground distancing itself more and more from them. As soon as the men were out of earshot and sight, her smile disappeared off her face, no longer needed. She leaned back, her hands resting on the horse. Her cowl slid onto her back as her eyes went up towards the skies, taking in the clouds drifting away for a while. After about half a minute, she looked at the back of the Herhor sitting in front of her.

“What has gotten into you?” She asked simply, her voice flat. If the leader of that group didn’t have such a code of honour, things might have gone differently and much worse. The Herhor had frozen up near completely, and she was rather annoyed by that rather uncharacteristic behaviour.

“…” Rove hadn’t moved in all that time, just staring towards the side of the road with empty eyes, his mind continents away from where they currently were. Initially, he didn’t answer her, but after a couple of seconds, his eyes seemed to focus and his shoulders, slumped before, straightened themselves. He looked at her with one eye and nodded.

“Guess I owe you an explanation, after all of that. We’re in trouble. I recognized the symbol on their tabards. They’re from a country called Derinia, a country on the northern side of the main continent.”

“Oh?” That was rather odd. She didn’t think the Herhor had any knowledge of noble houses, let alone those of countries far away from here. Ayuen didn’t say anything else, her annoyance making way for curiosity.

“The symbol on their tabards. It’s the heraldry of a family called ‘Tyheart’, which is one of the Golden Houses that make their home in Zavand, Derinia’s capital.” Rove continued, raising a hand to his chin to scratch his scruffy, bearded face. His voice got firmer by the second, his confidence seemingly returning together with the colour on his cheeks.

“What they’re doing here, I have no clue. I do know I don’t want to run into those fucks ever again or anyone else connected with the Tyhearts.” The disdain in his voice was almost palpable.

“But sir Rove, why do you fear them that much?” She had many ideas about why that could be, but she wanted to know for sure.

“Is it connected to that single blemish on your reputation by any chance?“

“It’s a private matter.” Rove briskly said, his voice raising in volume.

“Something happened, that’s all you need to know. If Tyheart is involved, the rabbit hole runs deep and we need to be more careful. There’s nothing else useful to be said. My knowledge of them doesn’t run that deep.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Very well, very well,” Ayuen said, making hushing gestures toward the Herhor while looking around. They shouldn’t attract more attention when they just got out of a tough spot.

“I’ll not press the matter further for the time being. All right?”

The Herhor’s only answer was a nod, and he straightened his back, driving his heels into the horse’s flanks, and they continued their journey.

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As the sun almost sank below the horizon, orange beams of light desperately clinging to the world, they finally arrived at Herhor’s End. The forest suddenly made way for a large open field of grass, from which Herhor’s End’s walls rose defiantly. Like the city was resisting the press of the forest around it, almost. Herhor’s End was a small but well-fortified city, surrounded by thick granite walls. The first stretches of ground inside the city’s walls were devoid of anything except short grass, similar to the fields outside of the city. Rove mumbled something out the buildings being well out of reach of any archers shooting in from outside of the city. That made some sense.

Herhor’s End seemed to loosen Rove’s tongue a bit, the Herhor talking quite a bit now his wounds were mostly healed and they were in friendly territory again. The town’s buildings were built from local oak and were built to last, he told her. Even without being told, she could see everything was built with an attack in mind, the structures being at most two stories high and sturdy bronze bands reinforcing weaker points in the walls and roofs. The roads were simple gravel but were well-maintained and free from potholes. Herhor’s End was built to ensure trader’s somewhat of a safe passage through the Shieldhead Woods. Being a gathering point for Herhors, they did a terrific job keeping the surrounding area safe. And were generously compensated by the traders in return. The city itself was built by a collaborative effort involving the Herhors and the tradesfolk.

One thing about Rove’s tales bothered Ayuen though. The town’s name was rather odd for a place that was a testament to the Herhor profession.

“Herhor’s End is a rather peculiar name for a city which is full of the people it's named after. Rather macabre, if you ask me.” Ayuen mused to herself, not expecting a clear answer from Rove. The Herhor was distracted, eyes scanning over the buildings and people. Her curiosity could not be held in check though, as she and Rove trotted slowly through the town. In sharp contrast with the forested areas outside, the streets were decently crowded with traders, guards and even a good number of Herhors, their gear as nicely kept as Rove’s was.

The Pyrn poet shuffled uncomfortably on the horse, eyes peeled on the crowd. Even though Ayuen wore a robe, her wings still gave her an awkward hunched appearance. She practically felt the stares of the townsfolk bore into her back and sides.

In front of her, her comment appeared to have struck a chord with Rove, who turned his head around for a second, looking at her with an amused look.

“Herhor’s End isn’t named after our deaths. It gets its name from being the home of many of the Herhors on the Grasping Isle. The end of a Herhor’s journey after a successful contract. A place to belong when a contract ends. You of all people should appreciate the poetry there.”

Ayuen frowned. “Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to call it ‘Herhor’s Home’ or ‘Herhor’s Hearth’, then?”

Rove didn’t seem to deem her question worthy of an answer and did not respond, his attention directed at the different buildings they came across.

“Instead of thinking about the town’s name, you’d be better served looking for any people who might look like suitable companions.”

Ayuen stayed silent, questioningly looking at the back of Rove’s head, until Rove continued.

“We lost a significant amount of time because of our fight two days ago. Getting another companion would be a necessity at this point, preferably one who can heal up our wounds quickly in case of another fight.”

“But Rove, is that actually necessary? We’ll need notably more supplies to keep us going, as well as another horse to keep up the pace.”

Not to mention the risk of letting another person in on their secret.

“I signed the contract. The contract said ‘keep the signee safe’, and this is a step I deem necessary.”

Rove’s voice was cold and unyielding.

“This is not negotiable.”

“Aahh…..right.” Mentally sighing, Ayuen just decided to leave it be. Arguing would only result in more loss of time. It’d just be better to indulge the Herhor.

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Having nothing better to do, Ayuen just took in the sights. Buildings weren’t quite her area of expertise or interest and her eyes just glazed over when she tried concentrating on their details. As they went further away from the town square, the street got less and less crowded, until only a few lone stragglers remained.

But then the boredom came to an abrupt end. Some ten meters in front of her, she saw a couple of people rounding a corner and entering an alleyway between the buildings on their right side. Two brawny men, quite visibly armed and one young woman, cradling a rather large backpack. The look on the woman’s face was nervous and pale, her eyes shot back and forth rapidly. Her hands fiddled with the straps of the backpack like a rabbit ready to flee at the earliest opportunity. Contrastingly, the body language of the men screamed malicious confidence, their eyes fixated on the alley and their hands on the bronze blades on their hips. Everything about the woman and the two men accompanying her aroused her suspicion.

“Rove, that group in front of us, something is off. Could you stop for a second?”

“It’s not our business.” He responded, but she could hear his voice straining and see his eyes narrow. This didn’t sit right with him either.

“Then again, if you insist on checking it out yourself, I’m under contract to protect you until you have reached your destination.”

“I insist on checking it out, yes.” Ayuen smiled. Even though they had their differences, on some subjects they thought the same.

Rove swiftly steered the horse to the grass and dismounted, tying its reins to a nearby wooden post. Ayuen followed suit, shooting curious and worried glances towards the alleyway, her feet kicking up small clouds of dust when she landed on the ground. She adjusted her cloak to get her wings to fit more comfortable under it.

Walking to the entrance of the alley, some doubts began rearing their ugly heads in her mind and she looked behind her towards her bodyguard. But Rove did not display any sign of fear or doubt. Just in case though, she grabbed her bow and an arrow, hiding them under the folds of her cloak.

“Good idea, we’ll probably need that,” Rove said from behind her, his voice appreciative. Ayuen just nodded, and let the Herhor enter the alleyway first. It was a shadowy and narrow place, as to be expected, the oaken walls almost seeming to touch one another high above them. Three people could just walk shoulder to shoulder next to one another without touching either wall. Different barrels of trade goods lined the walls, and further into the narrow passage bales of hay could be seen stacked up high. A single bronze lantern slowly swayed in the wind swirling through the alley, creaking softly.

In the middle of the alley, the two men stood around the woman, cutting off any escape in either direction. The woman was pressed against the wall, the man on the left pressing her shoulder against the wooden wall behind her. The man on the right whispered something to the woman and going by her widened eyes and trembling hands, it was not something pleasant. Now that she was somewhat closer, she could see the woman’s features more clearly, as well as those of what she suspected to be her assailants. The tufts of fur on her ears and her slim build marked her as a Vysari. She was wearing a dress which reached down to her knees, with cloth trousers under it and her feet were encased in comfortable leather travelling boots. A belt encircled her waist, on which hung a wide assortment of pouches and bottles. The men, two humans, were both clothed in very weathered leather armour, with one of the men wearing broken pieces of bronze mail under his chest armour. Their faces were beaten and battered, not flattering to see at all. Both men still had their weapons sheathed, two plain bronze longswords. The contrast between Rove and his colleagues was exceedingly obvious.

Rove stepped up, addressing the duo.

“Good day, gentlemen.”

The men turned their heads towards him. The right-hand man replied.

“Sod off. Tis none of yer business.”

“I’m afraid I disagree. I find it quite odd for colleagues of mine to conduct business in a dirty alley like this.”

The two men shortly exchanged glances and nodded. The right-hand man stepped forward towards Rove and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Where we talk is our choice.”

Rove stood his ground, putting his hand on the hilt of his blade as well. Ayuen slowly knocked an arrow on her bow beneath her cloak.

“True, true. But just in case, I have to ask.” Rove continued. “Are you loners, groupers? And where did you pick up this contract? If you have a good contract, you can just talk it out in the local inn with a nice drink, right?”

Confusion twisted the already bad looks of the man.

“Ehm…. None of yer business!” The man repeated, now actually drawing his sword with the metal dryly rasping against its sheath. “Now leave or get chopped up!”

Ayuen pulled her bow from beneath her cloak, aiming at the man’s shoulder. With the smooth sound of well-maintained metal sliding from metal, Rove readied his sword from out of his scabbard and stood ready.

“Well then.” The Herhor said, his voice smug. ”Guess you two will have to learn the hard way how to conduct yourself as proper folk.”

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