Traveling back to the capital of Meren went without a hitch. Slowed down by wounded, it took the remaining men three days to reach the sprawling city. Five of the six in critical condition died on the road, the last one was holding by the skin of his teeth but it did not look hopeful. The rest would live, even if some weren't going to be holding a weapon anytime soon.
Otherwise, the trip did without any incidents. They passed one or two villages, several farms, and the occasional picturesque meadow. But wherever they found themselves, the mood within the group and without was one of melancholy. The soldiers were happy to be alive, yes, but their thoughts stayed with the dead. The cries of the last dying man did not help much. On the other hand, the general population they went by was used to seeing soldiers traveling to and fro the wall. But the sight of this collection of wounds and tired people was not a pretty one. Furthermore, the news of a major assault and a new threat of roaming demons spread before the returning men.
Doors were closed and latched, windows shuttered, and dark words spoken. But for Helena, the worst thing, as she realized, was that one could not hear children laughing, nor playing. That was usually the first indicator that things were truly bad, when parents forced them to stay home and enforced it.
The book they got from the demons barely left her hands these days. It gave her the strength to continue, to see things through.
Slowly but surely, on the morn of the fourth day, they reached the city walls. There was a short queue of carts and people waiting for the gates to be raised but Perceval led them around the line towards the guards that were beginning their morning duty.
A short conversation later, they were given priority and ushered inside. A few of the people grumbled and complained when they noticed that someone was overtaking them. Every single one of them shut up upon seeing the state the soldiers were in.
Unlike the countryside, the city was bustling with life. Perhaps the defenses surrounding it gave people peace of mind since everything was business as usual. The only indication of the current troubles was that the conversations were slightly hushed and the hawking of merchants lining the streets was a bit subdued, but only a little, there were wares to sell after all.
The teeming thoroughfare took the expedition to the inner walls, where they were stopped. Sequestered behind the defenses were administrative buildings, abodes of prominent church representatives, noble estates, various army barracks, and another wall hiding the royal palace.
Watching from her carriage, Helena saw Perceval as he strode to the front of the group to talk to the watchmen on duty. Two guards, young boys really, were stationed at the guard booths at either side of the gate. They wore full city watch uniforms and both carried a spear with a shortsword fastened to their belts. A rooster welcoming the dawn was depicted on their tabards, the emblem of the city. After a brief exchange of words, one of them ran into the gatehouse and returned shortly after with a middle-aged man wearing a sergeant's insignia, probably their superior.
This time the conversation took longer. By the end of it, both guards’ heads were swiveling from one man to the other and looked downright uncomfortable. The two officers were practically shouting at each other at this point with both being red in the face and a vein throbbing on one's forehead and on the neck of the other man. Percy was gesticulating wildly in the direction of the wounded while the sergeant was shaking his head so hard it threatened to unscrew.
Passing citizens were taking notice of the altercation, which has started to gather quite a crowd now. Slapping her face, Helena hopped off the cart, approached the duo, and cleared her throat to get their attention when she got near.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Tyr stayed behind on the wall, I am bringing the wounded to get them medical attention while our group reports to the court,” shouted Percy, saliva flying.
“And I am telling you. The inner city is on lockdown. I have orders to let in only captain Tyr and his company to report to the Marshal of the Wall. It says nothing for some jumped-up Order paladin," replied the officer with equal enthusiasm.
"I am not a jumped-up, boy. I am sir Perceval, paladin-captain of the Order of Tismal, returning from a mission ordered by His Majesty himself!"
Ehrm, tried Helena again without success. "Guys… hellooo… HEY!" she practically had to yell to match their volume. They both looked at her and both immediately told her off before returning to their shouting match. Ugh, leave it to boys to measure who can piss higher.
The priest smoothed her clothing and approached one of the two guards. "Hi, could ya do me a favor and go to the big ol' godhouse over yonder and fetch the prelate? Now, don't give me tha' look, those two ain't be done anytime soon and we really need ta get inside. Don't worry, they won't bite yer 'ead, I'll take responsibility for whatever 'appens, just get a word to 'im that 'elie needs a bit o' 'is time at the gate. I assure you tha' 'e'll come and… ehm… handle this… uhm… mess," Helena said with a trembling smile, desperately trying to keep herself from giggling at the scene in front of her, where two grown men looked like they were about to insult one another's mothers akin to some teenagers.
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The guard looked her up and down first before saying hesitant yes ma’am. He gifted her with a final glance as he ran off in the direction of the Grand Cathedral. She had to wait for some time for him to return, which she spent merrily chatting with the other guard as they both watched the increasing theatrics before them.
She saw two men approaching from across the courtyard beyond the gate sometime later. One was the man she sent for the prelate and the other one was the head of the church Helen sent the boy to find. When they neared the gate a massive grin spread across her face and she waved to them, earning a small smile and a worried look from the priest and the watchman respectively.
"That's her, your eminence," mumbled the guard when they got close, pointing to Helena.
"Took you long enough, you old coot. What? Had to finish your beauty sleep? Finish your morning tea? I am freezing my arse off here, you bag of bones," she said accusingly in a low voice for only him to hear, which earned a horrified expression from the man accompanying him, who had surprisingly good ears.
“Heltcha! Good to know you never change, how’s my little girl?” the prelate purred as he hugged her, which earned even more looks from the people around them.
"Hello, uncle, good to see you too. Sorry to drag you out, but that over there had gone long enough and we kinda really need to get going," she said apologetically. "We found it, uncle! We did it, I've got the book right here," Helena beamed at him.
“That’s… acceptable performance,” the prelate responded slyly, hiding a grin of his own.
“Don’t act like it’s just another tome of prayers some conscript found on an imp. Speaking of, can you do something about those two already?” chastised Helena as she pointed to the two still arguing without noticing the high official not ten meters away.
"Now, now. While you had your fun, I only just arrived. And it's been such a long time since I last had a good show to go with my breakfast," laughed the man as he pulled a small cake from one sleeve and a cup of tea from the other.
“How do you always do that? Where do you keep that stuff and how come you don’t ever spill the drinks?”
"Oh, a man's got to keep his secrets, wouldn't be fun to puzzle the youngsters otherwise," her uncle smiled mischievously as he took a bite from the pastry.
They stood silently for a bit and then started catching up with each other. Soon they moved onto how the expedition went without going into too much detail. All the while they watched the spectacle playing out. A bit later and they were both giggling like schoolgirls as they joked at the expense of Perceval.
The two gate guards who were near enough couldn’t bulge their eyes out enough.
“They’re really going at it, huh?” asked the prelate and got an amused yup in return. “I suppose I do need to intervene, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Didn’t even notice me all this time.”
“Nope.”
He sighed and took the few steps it took to reach the two men, who still did not notice him. Looking between them a few times, the high priest raised both his arms, the dishes he was holding disappearing back into his robes. Smack. Their heads snapped to the side as he slapped them with all his strength.
"Who?! I'll have your he…" "What little worm…?!" the two men rounded on their assailant with perfect synchronization and they both swallowed whatever they were about to say mid-sentence. "Prelate, sir!" "Your eminence, what do we owe the pleasure?" they blurted out.
“You, back to your duties. That goes for you two as well,” the prelate told the sergeant and the two guards. “You, get your men inside and sorted, then find me in my office,” he turned to Percy and then to Helena. “Helie, will you join me for breakfast?”
“Of course, uncle,” she answered while the men still fished for a reply.
***
Half a day later, Helena, Percy, and Jehen were giving their report in front of the court, this time in detail. Of the royal family, only His Majesty Reymund III. was present. The church was represented by High Priest Terrence, the current elected prelate, and his two attendants. The rest of the throne room was sporadically filled with high nobles whose standing was important enough to warrant their presence.
Paladin-captain Perceval was the one doing the talking with Helena and Jehen chiming in to fill in one detail or another or when asked directly. It didn't take long for everything to be said, that needed saying, with no more questions needing to be asked, or at least not here, in public.
King Reymund rapped his knuckles on the throne to get attention and stood up. "We are most pleased with your performance sir Perceval, sir Jehen, and lady Helena. As such, you are to be given commendations, a reward based upon the prelate's discretion, and at least six days to recuperate and gather your strength," he ordered before turning to the High Priest standing by his side. "Prelate, make sure the artifact is safely in the hands of your clergy, and gather the court wizards to help in translating and preparing the ritual contained within. It is to be carried out immediately upon reaching the state of readiness."
Terrence dipped his head in acknowledgment of the order. "Thy will be done."
"Good. I proclaim this audience to be over. Once you finish delegating, join us in the Blue Room, Terry," the king proclaimed and took his leave through a door in the back of the room.
"You may leave," told the High Priest to the assembled nobility, and once they left, he walked over to Helena's group. "That went well. Now, will you give me the book or do you wish to join me, Helie?"
"I wouldn't miss this. Percy, you go on ahead and have a bath. Ya stink!" the woman announced cheerfully. Said smelly paladin grumbled under his beard and draped a hand over Jehen's shoulders as they left as well.
“Tell me, what have you found out? The truth this time, I know you and I know no one could keep you from nosing inside even if it was Ishtal himself who tried.”
Helen blushed slightly but nodded along. “Not much, truth be told. I was able to confirm that the ritual is described inside and translated bits and pieces. It was written in old Meren, so the language matches. From what I can tell it is incredibly complex to prepare but somewhat simple in execution. Can’t tell you anything specific though, I’m just parroting the priest’s notes that he scribbled around the actual text. That was the only thing I was able to decipher with any certainty, the ritual itself is written in riddles. It might take us a while to get to the bottom of,” she admitted.
“No matter, we’ll get it done. Eventually. With help. Probably,” the prelate went on for a while and wilted with each additional sentence, but brightened in the end with a shake of his head. “Come, best not leave the king waiting.”