We got Lucius out of his armor and into a tailored suit before he met with the bishop. Fashion had taken a laggard route in Giordana, and the best we could procure for him sat somewhere between a robe and a coat, with buttons down to his knees. We were simply grateful it had structured shoulders to help puff him up. I had given the tailor his measurements, but the indolent bastard refused to actually finish the fit until he had seen Lucius. As such, we tossed the boy in one of the public baths to scrub himself clean while that was finished. Thankfully, the bath was for men only and we didn’t have to deal with removing any embarrassment before sending him in.
The hardest choice we had was whether to shave him or not. The tradition in both Giordana and Vassermark was to clad one’s chin, but there was military justification in keeping a bare face. The last thing a fighter wants is his chin hairs grabbed hold of; but, I have my doubts about the authenticity of the origins of that belief. Regardless, we opted to remove his patchy stubble. Better to seem younger yet intentional, rather than only half-grown.
Nikolai Tolzi, Leomund’s aforementioned younger brother, was given the task of protecting Lucius, and we dressed him in the manner of the locals. It helped that his moustache was thick enough to hide his mouth if he didn’t wax it, and he had enough brawn to rival a giant. By tradition, his shirt covered only half his chest, baring his sword arm and shoulder completely. While many tastes of the Yellow King Hassa had been buried, keeping strong men as servants may never go out of fashion along that coast.
Bishop Jean di Jumeaux had taken residence in the southernmost villa, the White Halls. The main residence overlooked the port, and had two long flanks of housing that reached northward, surrounding a strip of garden. The outer windows seemed to have been squeezed shut, the stone pinching in around them and then strapped with iron to keep out any notion of intrusion. In contrast, the inner windows were often left open and gaping to the windows, with curtains billowing out and the chatter of people spilling through the flowering garden.
Lucius entered her meeting room behind a brown robed servant of some years, who introduced him as, “Commander Lucius von Solhart, leader of a number of Vassish soldiers outside the city right now.”
It took him a moment to pick her out from the glare off the sea beyond her. Every wave wanted to blast light back across the exposed balcony, like the light of the sun itself was drawn to her. The white dress she wore had a glow to it that overpowered the marble accents of the room, and her blonde hair had a flair like a fiery corona about her head before cascading her shoulders.
Bishop Jean di Jumeaux had nearly as much magic inside her body as a Divine Beast.
Once he realized this, the charm was broken, for him anyway. Nikolai was smitten with her at once, so much so that he didn’t even shadow behind Lucius like a proper manservant.
She snapped shut a book she had been reading and set it aside. “Thank you, you can leave us.” Her servant shuffled his feet to signal his disagreement with her being alone with the two men, but relented under her glare. She rose from her seat and stepped over to greet Lucius with a short bow. She grinned a schemer’s grin and steepled her fingers together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, student of Amurabi.”
Her words shocked Lucius as much as her gold rimmed glasses. “And you,
Bishop Jean di-
“Just Jean!”
Lucius wetted his lips and clasped his hands behind his back. “A pleasure, Jean. I’m unfamiliar with this Amurabi you speak of.”
She pouted and balled her hands up. “I’ve already met him, you know! When I was a young girl he came to visit Jumeaux to inspect the ancient fish hatcheries. Did you know he was the one who designed them?(1) I’d hardly be able to see without the help he provided to the glass makers!(2) I know he’s somewhere in this city. I can sense it. It’s like he’s pulled together all these lines of magic in the world and they’re slowly convening(3)... Also the other Skaldish man who came to announce your visit told me who you were.”
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“Leomund?”
“Yes, that was the name he gave,” Jean said, and gestured back to the table. “Please, have a seat.”
Lucius sighed and dropped his hands to his side. He sat down across from her and said, “My apologies that he couldn’t be here in person for you to meet him.” Then he caught sight of the book, Redo Of A Merchant King(4). He recognized the title, and it brought a shift in his perception of her. True, she was the de facto ruler of the city-state Jumaeux, wielded more political power than some Dukes, and had been blessed with not just a stigmata but actual magic, but at the same time was just a young woman. Her hair was disheveled and barely tied up in a ponytail. She had no makeup or face paint at all. And the glasses she wore were so thick that they swelled her eyes up till they seemed to be hazel gems.
To put it simply, she was a shut-in with hardly any idea what she was capable of.
Lucius changed tactics. “Jean, I’m not sure what brought you to Puerto Vida, but I need to move my men through it and get to Rackvidd. Supplies are needed, a ship preferably.”
“Ah, I’m sorry about that. The church is very cautious, you know. It took me years to get them to permit this indulgence of mine. They kept talking about having to prepare someone else to manage the city in my absence and how it was dangerous on the southern continent and so on… Say, you and your men wouldn’t be interested in working as mercenaries for me, would you?”
“To the southern continent?”
“Yes! It’s sort of like a missionary expedition, but we won’t be staying but a few months.”
Lucius sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s not an option. We have to return to Vassermark. If you were going there for the Saphiran(5) faith, it might be another matter, but the sun god only gets a little worship from us men of the west.”
Jean pouted and twiddled her fingers in a way that made Nikolai’s heart throb. “I suppose it can’t be helped then. Unfortunately, we’ll be holed up here in Puerto Vida until we can hire enough guards to sail down there. So, I really can’t just approve of a bunch of temperamental foreigners gobbling up all the supplies.” She wasn’t a city ruler for nothing.
“Is that the same thing you told to Lord Raymi?”
“The older man in charge of you Vassish? I believe the only thing he was particularly concerned about was how his creditors among the merchants were too preoccupied with my arrival to think about getting their coin back. The debt is still out there though. I wonder whether they’ll try to get you to pay in his place, or if they’ll have to go all the way to your king with their letters of promise.”
“They would be very disappointed with my response.”
Jean laughed softly. “From what I’ve heard, I imagine they would be.”
“Then, it seems that I will need to find another way of getting what I need.”
Jean smiled and put her hands on the table. “I’m sure you’re aware that there is an element within the city that would rather see you dead than walking, free, yes? They’re quite the rabble, whipping up everyone who knows how to fight and trying to put swords in their hands to sate a blood oath.”
Lucius nodded and leaned on the table with one elbow. “I’m sure those are men who would be better served working for you, yes?”
“He is very much getting in my way, yes. If you can’t work for me yourself, perhaps you could at least help clear the way for me to recruit properly?”
“I should be able to take care of that problem.”
“I’d be much obliged, and happy to help you on your way, so long as you swiftly pull this out by the root.”
“Before Medorosa catches up then.”
“I suppose that gives you just this one night then, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll have to get right on it.”
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1. I did not design them, I instructed the designer in the proper calculations he would need.
2. The trade secrets I brought over would have reached the city within a few years regardless. With the rise of prosperity in the central plains, the Giordanan artisans had long since begun immigrating.
3. Even a wizard cannot do something like this. This claim was but the musings of an immature girl.
4. Of all the things she could have credited me with, she missed the finer nuances of paper production that I accelerated. For an intellectual tart like her, with enough books to stone a man to death, I would have thought she could have seen the sociological power that a properly controlled newspaper could bring about, once enough of the population was accustomed to utilizing their literacy. I have been constantly disappointed with the books they choose to print and read.
5. Name updated from Aquarian