Only Two berths were available for the Holvelan ships. Because of this, an escorting longship and the knarr carrying Ohlsbachi knights and Ansar docked first. They were a heavily armed show of force that could disembark quickly, as they were few. This had the effect of the knights opening a spacious enough area to allow the remaining Holvelan ships to unload quickly and safely. First, the Longship crew disembarked and fanned out to clear space for the remaining ships to unload.
The sight of a unit of heavy horses and men in full plate armour with lances topped with pennants snapping in the breeze, forming up and moving inexorably forward, ensured that all cleared the way before them.
Being a spectacle not seen before in Raugus, it drew a large crowd of onlookers. The locals were quite astonished to see abnormally large people riding thick-set, muscular horses. In particular, the gigantic man wearing the skin of a pristine white bear, with his strong-looking face where the bear’s bottom jaw would be. Deep blue eyes peered out from behind the bear’s gigantic canines. He was not as large as Vylder, but an enormous man, nonetheless.
One Nevan man loitering near the unloading ships learned firsthand why it was not a good idea to approach too closely a horse trained for war. As the horse moved forward, he stood there, fascinated. He moved, but not far enough.
The horse turned its head towards him, grabbed his tunic with its mouth, and flung him several feet across the dock. It brayed and whinnied as it bucked slightly, eager to finish the unfortunate man off. But the hand of the knight riding it held it in check.
After the knights disembarked from the knarr they had arrived on, the longship crew returned to their ship and pulled away from the dock. Then the unloading began in earnest. The ship that Orn, his family, and Duke Thayn were aboard was among the last of the ships to unload, as this ensured that the Duke’s ship had adequate security.
Once everyone had unloaded, the Holvelan ships returned to sea. The plan involved fleet to returning to Bosberg to lay over for a couple of weeks. Then they would move to Disipica to await the ‘trade delegation’. Around noon, the last Holvelan ship slipped its moorings and headed back out to sea.
The group moved to form up in preparation to head to the principal centre of this area’s local government. While this happened, Shufi, the spy, and Hans, the merchant, argued. Both men wanted to scout for information, however the delegation needed a translator. The argument chiefly involved which of them would be doing which task. They both had compelling points behind their reasons for wanting to be the one to search for information, as each had valid and viable contacts within their respective fields of influence. But the Delegation still required a translator.
“I speak more languages, and I have contacts with the entire underworld. I also come from the lands south of here. My eyes and ears are everywhere,” argued Shufi.
To which Hans responded, “Yes, yes, this is valid. But I am a merchant. Slaves are merchandise, and as such, their purveyors are merchants. So my contacts would much more likely have the information we seek, instead of having to search for it.”
This back and forth went on for some time, when Duke Thayn cut them off, saying, “First we need to establish lodgings for ourselves and our horses, a guard rotation, and get ourselves fed and rested. Then you can each ferret out information through your various channels. We will plan to follow up on anything viable in the morning, while also seeing the local governing officials to maintain the charade of seeking to negotiate trade. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Both men said as they bowed their heads.
“And who knows? The charade may actually prove not to be a charade, after all.”
The party formed up and rode through the town. They headed out of the southern gate to set up camp by the river on the outskirts of the city. Older huscarls organised piquet by rotation to ensure that they were unlikely to be surprised in their sleep. The duke set his tent up near the centre, with the Avdlaks and Gerald’s close by.
After she and her sons had set their tent up to her satisfaction, Venna approached Hans and said, “Can you help me for a moment?”
“If I can, lady Venna.”
“Follow,” she said simply as she walked away. Hans raised his eyebrows slightly but hurried to move, peering this way and that, as he swivelled his head in rapid, furtive movements, as he always did. When he saw she had stopped, he approached and realised that she was standing in front of the Nevan prisoner from the raid.
Venna squatted down in front of the man, who looked back at her with flat hatred. He hadn’t been able to breathe through his nose properly since their first meeting. She was also the root cause of no small amount of his humiliation since.
“Translate,” Venna said.
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Ask him why they attacked.” Before Hans could say anything, the man spat at Venna, barely missing her. Without taking her eyes off him, she then yelled, “Gereld!”
After a few moments, the old man wandered over and asked, “What’s this commotion about?”
“Can you give this man an incentive to talk?”
“I’m not sure exactly what you want me to do.”
She gave the old man a penetrating glare, conveying her frustration. “I don’t know, conjure up a bubble of water around his head until he nearly drowns in it, give him a breath and then do it again!”
“Oh. So you want me to torture him,” Gereld responded with a clear look of distaste. “All right, fine, fine. But I think I may have a better option. Also, get Orn over here. This could be educational for him.”
“Absolutely not! Out of the question!”
“Lady Venna, he has seen what you’re capable of, so I don’t think you need to protect his sensibilities that much. Besides, we are not planning on hurting the man, are we? This will be a suitable moment to teach the boy about control.”
Venna hissed between her teeth as she let out a pensive breath and then turned toward her tent. “Orn! Come here!”
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Orn walked over after about a minute. She looked at him with a slight peevishness. “What took so long?”
“What? I wasn’t doing anything…” Orn realised at that moment he chose the wrong words.
“My point exactly. We are not at home anymore, so you need to listen and pay attention always, and you need to respond immediately. I can’t let even small things slide out here. Next time, you come the moment I call for you. Understood?”
“Yes, Mother.”
He turned to look at Vannur, so he wasn’t facing his mother when he rolled his eyes. She put an arm around him, and in a quiet voice, spoke into his ear. “I saw that, Orn. Now, pay attention to Gereld.”
Gereld looked at Orn and sized him up a moment before speaking. “I need you to watch what I do, because I am going to have you take over.” He relaxed, breathing deep and slow as a water ball formed from a nearby wash bucket, then it separated into two.
The two spheres elongated and turned into two floating icicles, pointed at Vannur’s eyes. He tried to back away from them as increment by increment they moved ever closer to his eyes. He turned his head this way and that, but the icicles followed, always right before his eyes.
Orn’s eyes grew wide, and he started turning away, but his mother clasped him firmly in place. “You need to pay attention.”
Vannur frantically started speaking to Nevan, saying something over and over. Venna looked at Hans questioningly, who answered her inquiring look, “He asks what you want from him.”
Venna let go of Orn and crouched down in front of the bound man, glaring at him as she spoke to Hans. “Tell him to answer my questions. And if I think he is lying, he loses an eye, if he lies again, he will be blind.”
Hans blanched at her nonchalant manner as she spoke about something so horrific. However, he relayed her message. Vannur looked at her wide-eyed and nodded frantically, almost sobbing, as he said, “Dai! Dai! Grannis! Dai”
The rotund merchant was about to translate when Venna cut him off. “It’s alright, Hans. I understood that one. Ask him if his name is Luca Vannur.”
“We know that already,” said Hans.
Venna looked at the man with exasperation, and then in a sarcastic tone asked, “Yes, but if he says ‘no’ then he loses an eye, doesn’t he?”
“Ah.” Hans turned to the prisoner. “Is your name Luca Vannur?”
He looked from the merchant’s round face to Venna’s and back, before closing his eyes and nodding.
“Ask him again why he attacked my village,” said Venna to Hans.
“I don’t know. My captain was paid to do it. But I don’t know who paid,” said Vannur via Hans.
“Who is your captain? What’s his name?”
He clamped his mouth shut and turned away. Venna turned to Gerald, who looked at Orn and said, “Do you think you can replicate what I did, and keep control enough to get in close without touching?”
“I can try.” Orn returned his gaze with a dubious expression.
After a brief pause, Gereld began. “All right. Focus on the two shards that I already made, you have them…yes, I can sense your will is… now the body contains lots of liquid, so visualise in your mind the liquid in his eyes, and establish a connection between the shards and that liquid. Good, good, now focus on keeping that line straight between the two, so the shards follow his head. Nice, you’ve got it locked on. Now focus on reducing the space between his eye liquid and the shards.”
Orn was sweating profusely, but he maintained control. The shards were wobbling a little, as the pressure mounted from his exertion. Gereld placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and adopted a coaxing tone. “Gentle, now. Easy does it. Relax and breathe, that’s it.”
“All right, all right, all right! Make him stop. I swear I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! Just make him stop!” Vannur begged in Nevan.
Although the words were foreign, Venna guessed their meaning. She looked at Orn and gave an almost imperceptible nod. He responded by moving the shards away from the man’s eyes by a few inches. Vannur sighed with relief and then looked at her pleading. She cocked an eyebrow in response.
He knew she wanted an answer to the question she had just asked. His eyes looked downcast as he answered the question dejectedly. “His name is Gracchus. Gaius Gracchus.”
Hans translated to Venna, and she responded, “I shall remember that name. What did you say to me when we fought that night?”
Vannur listened to Hans and then replied, “I was planning to make you mine when we took the captives we wanted. That’s all. I was only saying about that.”
Hans had a look of distaste and discomfort as he translated that. Venna looked at him with contempt as she said to him, “Do you regret it now?”
In response, Vannur merely cast his eyes down, a dejected expression on his face.
Venna continued as Hans translated, “You may yet live. But it will be on the pleasure of your laws. You violated a treaty, and I suspect, by what your fellows were wearing, it was an attempt to goad our countries into war, so in essence, an act of treason. We can give you to your country or you can ‘Become the Dragon’. I will let you choose.”
“I can help you, I can help!” He cast a desperate look at Hans, his eyes fitting nervously between him and the woman.
“If that were so, you could have done so long ago. But you do nothing but eat, sleep, and shit.” Venna looked meaningfully at Hans as she thrust her chin toward Vannur.
“I know where my captain was supposed to get paid! Disipica! He was to be paid in Disipica! It’s where we launched from. It’s where we operate out of.”
Hans translated that to Venna, who responded, “Seems you have bought yourself a day or two.” She stood up and turned to Orn. “You can drop those now, come on. Let’s find Erik and get something to eat.”
After Orn returned the icicles to the bucket, the pair walked away. Leaving Hans and Gereld staring after them. Both men were a little more afraid of this woman than they were before. After a short time of silent contemplation, they too moved on, heading over to speak with Thayn.
The Skordian duke had decided that, rather than try to find lodgings within the town, it would be safer to establish themselves in an area that was open and defensible. It was also a consideration of expenses, and the likelihood that there would not be enough rooms in the town to accommodate them all in one place.
After discussing it with Thayn, Both Hans and Shufi had entered the city to establish contact with people who would be more likely to talk with them. Hans, taking an escort of two huscarls, rode into town, hoping to meet local tavern proprietors, merchants, and shopkeepers. Shufi had moved off on foot, quickly and quietly disappearing into the evening. Different methods employed towards a single goal: information on the Holvelan captives.
As Shufi approached the gates of the town, he slipped in amongst a caravan of people who were awaiting entry before the city gates were closed for the night. He bribed a merchant travelling from Manali to pretend that he was a servant of his. A simple thing to do, given Shufi’s Azahri heritage being a common enough sight to not arouse suspicion.
Once Shufi was inside, he paid the merchant and then split off to return to the docks area. He wandered the streets nearby, however, counter to his usual stealthy approach, he moved openly with his coin purse visible and accessible to any would-be cutthroat or pickpocket that would want to relieve him of it.
Soon enough, he found himself surrounded. He spoke in Nevan, “Ah, I am disappointed. I was expecting you much sooner. My feet are tired from all the walking I had to do to bring you out of hiding.”
The gang of thugs looked at each other and then back at Shufi and muttered among themselves, “Get a load of this guy.”
“Do you think he might be soft in the head?”
A burly man among them stepped forward and said to Shufi, “You seem to be lost. I can help you find your way, for a nominal fee, of course.”
Shufi grinned as he replied, “Of course. That fee being?”
“Oh, nothing too much, just everything you’ve got.”
This set the group of thugs to chuckling as they flexed and brandished their weapons menacingly. Shufi gazed back at them, unperturbed, and said, “Now that I have your attention, you will bring me to Sanji. And you will want me to be intact when you do.”
This made the men a little less sure of themselves. No one who wanted to continue breathing worked the streets of Raugus without his say-so. The burly thug replied, “And if we decide not to?”
“Oh, trust me, that is something that you really wouldn’t want to speculate on. Come, just take me to Sanji and, as a show of good faith…” Shufi said as he removed a coin purse from his belt and tossed it to the lead thug “…split those amongst yourselves and have the rest of the night off. After you take me to Sanji. What do you say?”
“All right. But if he kills you…”
“Oh, he won’t. He won’t.” Shufi said with a wicked grin.