Maels gazed out of the recently wiped window of his carriage, which rattled every time one of the vehicle’s wheels encountered a bounce or bump along the uneven surface beneath them. The Winding Road was centuries old and ran on for hundreds of leagues, so it came as no surprise that many stretches of its vast length were in various states of disrepair, especially so far out into the wilderness where the mountainous topography made it quite difficult for people to service them.
Maels had been on the road for many months, having visited dozens of towns and cities and met with a large number of local lords and clergymen during this time. All of said officials had taken noticeable care of their sections of the ancient infrastructure by ensuring the constant presence and upkeep of the cobbled stones that paved the great pathway. Unlike the more developed areas of the kingdom, however, the road leading into Distan was worn from centuries of weather, with only a handful of cobblestones within eyesight at any given moment, most of which were heavily eroded and protruded from the ground at odd angles.
Glancing up the road at the long column of tightly-packed people that seemed to connect horizons from front to back, he mused to himself that the endless procession of footfalls was doing a better job of servicing the roadway than the count of Distan or any of his predecessors had managed over the years.
At long last, he thought, letting out an exasperated sigh as he connected eyes with an armour-clad woman that was riding adjacent to his carriage. By the day’s end, all of the pieces will have fallen into place and I will have set the stage for my greatest merit yet.
Curling his lip as he was jostled by a particularly impactful shock, he made a mental note to stop in Civus’s capital, Cedor, on his way back to Providence Region so that he could urge King Glenden to do something about the terrible state of the roadway in this region.
“If it pleases you, Your Grace, I could instruct the driver to proceed more carefully?”
The speaker was the only other person in the carriage, a tall man dressed in simple white robes with a deep hood draped over his head. This was Gartur, a lifetime servant of his family’s and also the most conspicuous person out of all the individuals that made up the grand delegation. Even though he wore such long and concealing clothing, it was impossible to hide his deep red skin or the tiny scarlet scales that climbed up his neck to settle just below his ears on either side of his face, or the fiery red irises that defined his large, intelligent eyes.
“Thank you, Gartur, but there’s no need. I fear we’re in for several more hours of this regardless of what speed we keep to.” They were already proceeding at walking pace, so to go any slower would almost guarantee their late arrival in the county’s capital of Mayhaven.
“If I may be so bold as to ask, how long are we to stay in this city?”
“Not long,” he assured the Inverted man, who reached over to brush some lint from his shoulder in the same way that he had done since Maels was a boy. “We’ll be staying for two nights. One in the cathedral where Bishop Rendel will have accommodations waiting for us, and another in Lord Caedmon’s estate.” Seeing the unspoken question in the old man’s eyes, he let out a light laugh and said, “Don’t fret. Mayhaven doesn’t have the capacity to house so many visitors, so most of our people will be camping out in the countryside. Whether it’s the cathedral or the lord’s manor, it’ll only be a handful of us staying there.”
Unknown to the old aid, Lord Caedmon wouldn’t be alive to receive them. Even if Maels failed in this aspect of his mission, he had no doubt that Bishop Rendel had also been entrusted with the same task by either Archbishop Vestach or Archbishop Varus, possibly both.
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While Gartur’s wrinkled expression remained unchanged, Maels noticed a slight sag of his shoulders—broad and powerful despite the man’s age—that betrayed a hint of relief. As a descendent of the Dauls, Gartur drew negative attention wherever he visited within the empire, and was often shown disdain by others even in Maels’s presence.
“Why so glum?” said Maels, who could tell that the man was in poor spirits. “Of all the places within our borders, isn’t this the one that you’ve always wanted to visit the most? Father once said that you even mentioned your desire to settle here some day, something he’d overheard you say when he was a boy.” He recalled the disgust in his father’s tone at the time of this story’s telling, but saw no merit in mentioning this.
Gartur’s lips tugged downward at the corners, but only for a moment. “As long as I can continue my service to your family, I’ll be content.”
Following the man’s gaze out of the opposing window, his eyes settled on a large wagon that had just pulled up beside them. The entire vehicle was covered in a thick burlap tarp, the subtle sounds of stifled sobs constantly leaking out from within. While Gartur’s frown had been replaced by a mask of indifference, his eyes told a tragic tale of sadness and sympathy.
Glancing out of his own window, Maels caught the woman from before staring at him from atop her warhorse, a muscular destrier with a shimmering coat of black hair. Not only did she not avert her azure gaze, but she maintained eye contact without flinching, sapphire irises reflecting his hazels. After staring at him for a few more moments, she nodded her head in a mechanical fashion and returned her focus forward as she seemed to notice something up ahead.
Blasted Vestach, thought Maels, who was fully aware of the reason why the archbishop had sent along one of the most powerful knights of the empire. After his accomplishments in the Kingdom of Cessia, Vestach had surely grown wary of him despite the old fox’s evident faith in his capabilities. Not only had he sent along hundreds of his own subordinates to accompany Maels on his grand tour throughout several provinces of the empire, but he had also encouraged many others within their faction to send their own followers along in order to ensure that any potential successes that Maels might achieve would result in shared credit for the accomplishments.
After receiving his new orders Maels had masterminded a brilliant and complex plan to deal with the local count in accordance with his mission in the region, but Vestach’s unwanted meddling had implicated it far more than the man could have imagined. Of the two thousand people that made up the delegation, only seven hundred were direct subordinates of Maels, of which just a few handfuls had been subject to his curse of compulsion.
“Your Grace,” came Gartur’s voice, which had grown a bit curious. “Something seems to have happened up ahead. Shall I go look into it?”
The procession had grinded to a halt, the breeze carrying with it countless conversations of confusion and observation.
“No need,” said Maels, who knew that his favoured servant would only be inconvenienced by such a task. “I was planning to stretch my limbs and get some fresh air, anyhow. You stay here while I go check up on the situation.”
When Gartur made to protest, he held up a hand and gave his head a gentle shake. While it was widely known that the man was his slave, the hatred that people harboured toward the Inverted races knew no bounds. The last thing he needed was some simple-minded zealot trying to slip a discreet knife in Gartur’s back, especially after all of the earnest care he had shown Maels throughout his life. After all, as jarring as it was to think, the man had been more of a parent to him than his real father had and so had greatly influenced his life ideologies.
Foregoing the small wooden steps that could be unfolded to make one’s descent from the carriage easier, Maels opened the door on his side and stepped out without any trouble. Large though his carriage was, his legs were significantly longer than the average man’s, which had left him feeling quite cramped after spending several hours seated within the limited space.
Much better, he sighed to himself, revelling in the instant relief that washed over him as he reached his arms out and gave them a satisfying stretch.