by Tye Tivillus
Chapter 14: Meetings and Reunions
After the morning's exercise Erasmus was woken up and the four helped themselves to a hearty breakfast. Erasmus spoke quietly to the warriors about what they should do with the information they'd uncovered so far. While they didn't want to start a war through openly accusing Redland of stealing and misusing their ancient relic, they were almost certain that the volatile kingdom would start a war anyway.
'Either way, we should report in with what we know.' mumbled Arty through a mouthful of fruit.
'Do you need any assistance with the spells?' Erasmus asked casually, reminding them smugly of his good work the night before. Arty and Hayes assured the mage that they would be alright by themselves, but that it would take them a day to set up everything they needed.
'We'll take Bo with us when we go, though. The high council will want him to report his findings by himself, you know what they are like with relative truths.' Hayes rolled her eyes. Bo's ears pricked as he heard himself mentioned.
'Wait what? I'm going to have to talk to who now?' Erasmus steepled his fingers in thought.
'No one Bo. I don't think you would be able to use communication spells – the people on the other end wouldn't be able to see or hear you.' Arty cursed as she realised the mage was correct. 'He's just going to have to write his report then, and we'll send it via lettermage. It's slower, and more dangerous, but it's the only way.'
The rest of the morning was spent trying to draw a more accurate image of the monster, and in having Erasmus transcribe Bo's story about the night he accompanied Hayes and Arty into the underground caverns. It wasn't ideal, but Erasmus had seen the letter Bo had started to write and was appalled by both the handwriting and the level of illiteracy displayed. He had at that point vowed to teach Bo his letters – but first they had a report to write. At lunch time Erasmus' hand was starting to cramp, mostly because he insisted on putting down every little detail that Bo could think of, and the story now spanned several pages. Seeing that he needed a rest, Erasmus called for a lunch break, some time after Will had already delivered some choice cold meats. Glad to wet his throat, which was sore from talking, Bo accepted, eagerly sitting down as he realised just how hungry he was.
Over lunch, while Arty and Hayes were out, a desert person that Bo had never seen before entered the room. It was a man with a wide face and a strong nose that had been broken at least once. His eyes, however were slightly too small and set slightly too close together for him to be considered classically handsome, making his face seem more blockish than it actually was. The man wore his hair long, tied back into a plait that reached down between his shoulders. His jumpsuit was the dirty orange that Bo disliked, and his skin was heavily tanned. Although he did not wear the red of a warrior, the man was considerably well built. Bo felt that he looked familiar, but it was only when he walked up to stand beside Erasmus that Bo realised it was the man he had glimpsed one day while sweeping. The teen lowered his eyes, suddenly wondering if this man was Erasmus' sweetheart or some such - it would certainly fit the scene he had witnessed. The man gave Bo an arrogant sneer, before turning to speak directly to Erasmus, instantly making a bad impression on the teen.
'Can we have a private talk? I don't need any child listening in. The walls have ears, you know Erasmus?' Slowly and carefully Erasmus put down the mouthful of food he'd been intending to consume. His gaze was rather frosty.
'You can talk in front of Bo. He is 'one of us.' Bo, this is Takeshi. He's in charge of the peace negotiations, and he thinks he's very important.' Takeshi spluttered angrily at Erasmus,
'I am very important! Don't get above your station! You shouldn't even be--' Takeshi stopped himself before he could rage any further. Erasmus' smile told Bo he'd been baiting the other man, hoping for just such a reaction. 'Look here Erasmus. There are negotiations tonight and that is all I will say unless we are alone.' Takeshi's gaze slipped sideways to linger on Bo. Bo felt rather uncomfortable being the subject of such ill-concealed irritation. He wondered what on earth he could have done to deserve it.
'Well you'd better be off th-' began Erasmus. He was quickly interrupted as Bo stood up to leave.
'I'll go. It was nice to meet you, Takeshi.' The teen bowed politely before heading for the door. He wasn't going to have Erasmus miss out on important information because the mage was too stubborn to comply with Takeshi's demands, and he didn't wish to cause friction between Erasmus and his partner.
'Wait!' yelped Erasmus in surprise, half leaping up to grab Bo's arm. The lanky mage froze, realising he had lost his cool in front of the orange clad man. 'You should take your lunch with you, we could be a while,' he finished lamely, settling back into his chair with a resigned expression. Feeling very out of the loop Bo grabbed his plate and left the room as quickly as he could without appearing to be in a hurry.
The teen quickly finished his lunch, and was sitting glumly against the stone wall when Arty and Hayes arrived. They frowned,
'What are you doing outside the room Bo?' asked Hayes. She was carrying two candles in a metal bucket, while Arty had a basket of fruit clasped under one arm.
'Um, someone called Takeshi--' began the teen, but was interrupted by Arty who muttered something that sounded a lot like a curse, and without knocking she flung Erasmus' door open. Bo followed as the warriors stormed the room,
'Hey Erasmus we – oh Takeshi, what a surprise!' said Arty, her voice laden with false enthusiasm. Erasmus was leaning against the wall near the door, frowning furiously, while Takeshi was standing over him, uncomfortably close, with his hand planted on Eramus' shoulder in what would never have been mistaken as a friendly gesture. Takeshi was startled but maintained his cool, while Erasmus gave Arty a relieved expression.
'He was just going, actually,' Erasmus explained quickly, before the orange clad mage could ask Arty and Hayes to go away. Stepping back, Takeshi leered in what he must have considered an appropriately friendly way, and pushed his way past Bo to get out of the room. Erasmus straightened his collar, which had become askew, rolling his shoulders to gently work out some of the tension in them. 'Takeshi is always so friendly,' he muttered to himself. Arty sighed and shoved the basket of fruit into Erasmus' arms,
'Stupid. Just tell him to go away next time.' Erasmus pointed at Bo, childishly accusing the teen of leaving him alone to face the perils of politics, but Arty was already lecturing Erasmus on proper conduct.
'I'm going to be registering a complaint about Takeshi as soon as we get in contact with the council!' she growled angrily. Erasmus went red,
'I'd rather you didn't bring it to their notice' he managed, his voice sounding slightly strained, but his plea went largely unheard over Arty still grumbling about Takeshi, largely questioning his swift advancement through the ranks.
'You know he was only placed in charge so that the equity comity for male rights would be pleased,' murmured Hayes, looking almost as irritated as Arty. Bo found himself strangely indignant at the thought of Takeshi's actions towards Erasmus, now that he was more aware of the situation, but he put it down to the rude and abrupt manner of the man. Eventually everyone settled down. Bo and Erasmus sat and listened while Hayes and Arty talked about the trials they'd been through to secure the bucket and candles, which included wrestling with a stubborn donkey, and seducing a bored butcher. Eventually Bo decided to ask something that had been bothering him.
'Why do you use candles and stuff and Erasmus doesn't have to? When you do magic I mean.' Erasmus made a scoffing sound while Arty groaned.
'Erasmus is very talented,' explained Hayes cheerfully. 'He knows a lot of spells and he studies very hard. It is like the difference between writing a book and telling a story. Most people need paper and pencils to write a good story, but some people are clever enough to just tell a story without first getting it written and planned on paper.' Bo glanced at Erasmus who looked almost unbearably smug.
'And doesn't he know how good he is,' groaned Arty, who quickly
changed the subject before Erasmus could start praising himself too much. 'So Bo, we'll need you to come with us tomorrow when we go to report.' The conversation quickly picked up, with Erasmus arguing that it would be too dangerous for Bo to go wandering around the kingdom, and the like, but in the end it was decided. The rest of the day after lunch was spent writing up the end of the letter to be posted.
That night Bo sat in the bed. Erasmus did not seem interested in studying as he usually did. He had been sitting staring at the same page for longer than usual, and the pen that he used for writing notes was lying out of reach.
'Um, we can both sleep in the bed again tonight?' suggested Bo. He felt awkward saying it, but he didn't feel like Erasmus should be forced to sleep in the armchair merely because he tended toward a more nocturnal sleeping pattern. Erasmus took a long time to respond, eventually turning and smiling at the teen absently,
'That's kind Bo, but I have a lot of studying to do...' the mage trailed off before returning to his book. Bo was relieved when his friend leaned over and picked up his pen. Settling into the comfortable warmth of the covers, however, Bo found that sleep was elusive.
'Erasmus – why not complain about that Takeshi guy?' The teen had been thinking about it a lot. He wasn't sure why it occupied so much of his interest, but his curiosity burned bright, along with a kind of restrained anger. He wanted to understand why Erasmus, who seemed so capable, would put up with being bothered by a nasty person like Takeshi. Erasmus sighed heavily and didn't answer immediately, worrying Bo that he might have asked about something too personal, but eventually the mage spoke up,
'He's a pain, but he's also the leader of the peace negotiations. I have to listen to his orders because otherwise I could get into a lot of trouble. It isn't worth it, just to complain, after all, he hasn't done anything exactly, he's just very friendly.' The stalk legged man paused uncertainly, before adding, 'normally at home I would deal with his sort easily, but it is a little different at the moment. I wouldn't want any of my acquaintances in the council to know that I couldn't manage one man being a little too forward.' Bo considered what Erasmus said, but found it did nothing to smother his irritation. He did not have to wonder too hard why peace negotiations were not going well if Takeshi was in charge of them – the man was clearly an arse. Turning over in bed Bo made no reply and tried to get to sleep. Instead he was bothered by thoughts of the desert peoples' strange customs. He felt indignant at Takeshi for his behaviour, but uncomfortable with the relationship it implied, until he wished he could ignore it and pretend it didn't exist.
Early in the morning Bo stirred. It was (in fact) earlier than usual, despite the teen's tiredness. Groggily his eyes opened, already accustomed to the dark. With a start, Bo quickly realised there was a grizzled bearded face staring down at him from roughly three inches away. He nearly jumped out of the bed with surprise, only calming down when he saw that the person who had been leaning over him had been Alexander. Bo glared at the ex-weapon master thinking that waking up to Alexander staring intently down at you was the stuff of nightmares.
'You zleep-in lonk time, yez?' said Alexander, unable to completely erase the amusement from his voice. Bo looked at the window – outside there wasn't even a hint of dawn. Movement off to the side of the bed quickly drew Bo's attention, as Ruben peered out from behind Alexander's considerable girth, glumly waving greetings to Bo. 'I realize I haff not been trainink az much az ushe-ual. I make decide to train every day to keep spirits up and fightink!' Alexander growled cheerfully. Bo groaned, seeing that Alexander meant to train him in fighting even if it meant waking up at a ridiculously early hour. Before they began however, Alexander checked up on Bo's burned hand which had healed remarkably quickly. The palm was smooth and silvery in colour, but other than the obviously fresh scar it looked entirely healed and Alexander gave it his nod of approval.
The teen was soon ushered out of bed, and he, Ruben, and Alexander began warming up. They trained well into the morning, only stopping when Arty and Hayes rushed in, hearing enthusiastic activity and fearing the worst. Soon enough the two women got down to their own warm-ups and the group of people training grew from three to five, taking up almost all of Erasmus' floorspace. By the time they had gotten to pushing the table out of the way, Erasmus had woken from his place by the hearth, and angrily told them that tomorrow they would have to go and train in a different room. Working up a sweat, the group continued to work until Will came in with breakfast. The white haired slave quickly left again, muttering something about having to bring up an extra few servings to make sure everyone was well fed. Bo suspected, however, that his friend was merely hoping not to get caught up in the morning's activities. The exercises left Bo invigorated, but he knew that the next day he would have more than a few sore muscles. Ruben looked more awake than he usually did as well, although as soon as he was free he left to talk to Erasmus about his latest projects and to check up on the bird. Alexander took a roll from the breakfast platter that Arty and Hayes had brought with them, buttered it thickly and with a grin disappeared out the door, promising only that he would be back again tomorrow.
As soon as Ruben left for the library, and the rest of the participants had towelled the sweat off themselves and cleaned up just a little, Erasmus handed Bo the sealed envelope containing the letter they had written the previous day. The paper was thick, and the flap was sealed by a long line of some sort of black gum. Bo prodded it uncertainly only to discover that it was harder, and stiffer than he expected.
'I have to attend peace negotiations – orders are orders. So I can't come with you. Arty and Hayes will look after you this time I'm sure, so don't go off on your own.' The lanky mage also gave Bo a pair of fingerless gloves to hide his slave tattoo, and silver palm. Bo was surprised at how concerned Erasmus seemed to be, but Arty and Hayes were quick to remind Erasmus that they were on a tight schedule.
'Don't drink too much at negotiations, you know you can't hold it!' called Arty cheerfully as Erasmus waved the group off from his doorway.
Soon enough the small group left the castle gates. It was Bo's first time viewing the upper city and he was interested to see how it differed from his expectations. He had thought the streets were lined with gold and the fountains vomited forth rainbows, like the magnificent stories told by those lucky enough to visit the area. He was very disappointed to find that the cobbles were regular stone and the houses (while made of more permanent materials than Gutter houses) were nothing fancy, and were usually coated in a layer of grime. There were one or two fountains, but much like those of the lower city they were being used for cleaning, and did not look particularly appealing. The streets were wider, cleaner, and better attended by guards, however, making Bo slightly nervous that he might be recognised – but everyone seemed much too complacent for a disturbance to be kicked up that early in the morning. Looking around himself Bo was surprised to see that there was no obvious thievery going on, and that there were no beggars, elderly, or ill people clogging up the walking paths. A number of temples that shone with cleanliness lined a distant road, which was strange in itself, as TheGutter had no temples itself. Despite Bo's interest Arty and Hayes insisted they had no time to look at them. A quick glance though did not reveal anything dedicated to No Body. There were no packs of half wild dogs roaming the streets, no slave markets in plain sight, and no crumbling houses. On some buildings there were stone gargoyles that moved and stretched their wings, while all around the city people were rushing around trying to get ready for the day, even though the morning was growing very late indeed. Bo watched with a small amount of jealousy as a group of children, all wearing a uniform, were led about by a teacher. He had heard about schools and had wished to attend one, at one stage of his life. His parents had laughed, and pointed out that The Gutter had no schools. Arty and Hayes gazed about with interest but made no comment on the city at large, having already seen it. They were diverted for a few seconds by the odours of a street of food vendors, an
d bought tasty honeyed meats from one of them for a morning tea, sharing the snack with Bo, who ate his too fast and burned his mouth. This didn't stop him, however, from licking the melting honey from his fingers and requesting that they come back past the same vendor on the way home.
Slowly but surely as they neared The Gutter, going downhill all the way. The houses of the upper city shrank and withered. The streets grew narrower as the houses became more densely packed in order to accommodate the maximum number of people before the walls. Here the happy noises of everyday life were often replaced by the scream and cry of infants, and the shriek of frustrated mothers. Every now and then a dog would bark somewhere in the distance, and there were not as many people on the streets. The smoke that came from the accumulated houses was slightly thicker and blacker than the rest of the upper city, making the entire area seem slightly dirtier, on the whole.
Finally the group of three reached an impassible wall. It was made of thick, heavy white stones that were stained with the black of ages and had mould growing in the cracks. The top was crenelated, and halfway up the 20 foot height, there were slits from which arrows could be fired. The heavy wooden gate was well guarded, although most of the guards were concentrated on The Gutter side of the structure. It was obviously designed more to keep out the unsavoury element than to keep others in. Bo, Arty and Hayes took their place in the short line to enter The Gutter. Most of the other people lining up had a distinctly unsavoury element to them, and were probably bound on dubious business. Going out, the trio were all to be given a magical mark on their hand, in order to be allowed back in without trouble. There was a minor hiccup, as Bo stretched out his hand to recieve the stamp and they found that it wouldn't take. Before Bo could be denied entry, Hayes asked if she could have two marks - one for her and one for Bo. Although they weren't fond of the idea, the guards were forced to leave a second mark on Hayes' hand to show that she could bring one other back with her, as they were under strict orders that the desert notables should have the best possible service.
It was strange to be back in The Gutter. With the well dressed women beside him, Bo knew that they would be prime targets for pickpockets, beggars, and anyone and everyone with something to flog. It was busy as always, and more prominently than the upper city, The Gutter stank of human waste. Bo could barely believe that after such a short time away, he was already so unfamiliar with his own home. He could hardly stand the smell, and the horrifying standards of living made him cringe with embarrassment, wishing his friends could not see the poverty stricken conditions from which he had originated.
'Are you alright?' asked Hayes, laying a gentle hand on the teen's shoulder. Bo clutched tightly at his envelope. Looking down at his feet he muttered that he was fine, and moved closer to the warrior women. The last thing he wanted was for someone here to recognise him. Arty quietly revealed that they had decided to perform this communique in The Gutter, as there was relatively little magical interference, and because it would be more difficult to be spied upon magically without their knowing. The downside, however, was that it was dangerously exposed. Anyone with a keen eye for magic would realise that a line of communication had been set up and it might attract unwanted attention from the castle.
'We will just have to hope that most of the more powerful mages are busy in the peace talks,' murmured Arty, breaking into a conversation with Hayes about whether there would be sufficient distraction at the negotiations. They made it sound like the peace talks were respectful occasions, where everyone sat quietly and tried to listen to one another, but Bo was forced to wonder how austere the talks were if The King wasn't interested, Takeshi was in charge of representing the Great Desert, and Lance the insane mage was a part of proceedings. It sounded more like a recipe for disaster.
Soon the group came to a dingy pub situated near the slave market. Just the smell of that place and the knowledge that it was so close by made Bo feel physically ill, and he was keen to hurry into the pub to block out the unwanted feelings that arose. Like most pubs it had a number of rooms that were available for hire in the upper levels of the building. Hayes quickly haggled with, and paid the inn-keeper, an angry and suspicious looking man with a red face. The three trooped silently up to a small dirty room. It was locked only by a cheap and flimsy latch. Muttering curses under her breath Arty reinforced it with her magic to make the area more secure, plucking a few strands of her hair from her fringe and tying them roughly around the heavy iron handle of the door. Bo had to wonder if curses were a part of the magic that Arty used, or if it didn't matter if they were interspersed with it, because he had noticed she seemed to include them in her spells a lot. The teen made a mental note to enquire about this when the atmosphere was not quite so tense.
Arty and Hayes set up the bucket and candles, pouring water into the bucket, and setting it on a roughly drawn chalk circle. The candles were lit by each woman at precisely the same time, and the warriors murmured something under their breath that Bo could not quite make out. There was a gentle ping from the bucket, as though a crystal bell had been struck once, and the water turned a dark inky black.
'Now we wait!' said Hayes, rubbing her hands together. She shared out a flask of soothing tea, seeing that Bo still looked a little shaken. The kindly mage quickly realised what was the most likely cause of the trouble and murmured a few reassurances that they wouldn't be getting any closer to the slave market than they were already.
'Arty? Hayes? This is Robin, High chairwoman of of the middle council. What do you have to report?' A face had appeared. It was a surprisingly young woman. She had platinum hair drawn back tightly into a bun, with two black pins holding it in place, and was clearly aiming for a 'no nonsense' look, but Bo could see that she had several piercings in her eyebrow, ears and nose that gave her a more fiercely rebellious appearance.
'Chairwoman, we have a number of things to discuss. This could take a while,' said Arty, speaking as candidly as she would with her friends, leaning over the bucket to better see who she was talking to. Robin frowned but nodded,
'Well I'm in a comfortable chair so you may as well get on with it. I have a scribe with me so that you won't have to repeat yourself.' For the next half hour Arty carefully described the situation. Robin was surprised to hear that the peace talks were not going well, as reports from Takeshi all claimed that they were going very well. At the mention of Takeshi, Bo couldn't help but frowning his disapproval. Arty spoke of finding Bo, a boy who was immune to magic, and of freeing him from slavery without official consent. She was completely blunt and honest with Robin, more so than Bo could have predicted, but the Chairwoman took everything in her stride and did not interrupt. It took half an hour to outline everything that had happened, and when Arty was finished, Robin asked Hayes if she had anything to add. Hayes said that she had not. 'And this boy,' the woman peered uncertainly at the notes, having forgotten Bo's name. 'Ah yes - Bo. Do you have him with you?' Hayes ushered Bo over to the bucket and he swallowed nervously, wondering what would happen. Robin's sharp blue eyes almost looked as though they could see him, but after a moment or two she sat back, disappointed. 'It's no use, I can see there is some sort of distortion, but I cannot see you there, Bo. We will contact the nearest lettermage with your location, and I apologise for anything you've had to go through on behalf of The Islands of the Great Desert.'
'That's -' Bo went to reply before remembering that he couldn't be heard. He turned to Arty. 'Could you tell, errrm Missus Robin that Erasmus and you and Hayes have saved me, and that anything I have endured is nothing compared to what my life would have been if I hadn't been freed?' A smile broke out on Arty's face, and she nodded, relaying the information to her superior. Robin nodded courteously,
'I'm glad to hear that you feel that way.' Soon the two women recommenced their conversation, and Arty was told that for the moment the top priority was staying safe, and not jeopardising the peace treaty in any way. It was a delicate matter to be taken up by higher ranked co
uncillors, who would give more precise orders as soon as they could – but until then the investigation was to be stalled, and Bo was to be kept hidden, lest his freedom should spark friction that might derail efforts toward peace. Arty tried to argue her point but Robin was firm.
'I must officially order you to stall the investigation, Arty, in the interests of peace. I know you are a very capable Head of Forces, and I trust your judgement, but I can't allow you to be seen to jeopardise this agreement with Redland.' Robin nodded to someone and dismissed them, before turning back to Arty and adding, 'unofficially of course, I trust you to do your best under the circumstances, and I will support your actions should they be called into question later. Please try to avoid such actions – if at all possible. I will talk to you when you get back home. Please wait for the lettermage at your current location. Also – I look forward to meeting Bo!' A pleasant grin broke out on the chairwoman's face, making her seem much less formidable. Arty, Hayes and Robin made their goodbyes, and the connection was quickly terminated. The two warriors snuffed out their candles, and used the now translucent water to wash away the marks they had drawn on the floor – with Bo's assistance.
'Now we wait!' said Hayes cheerfully, as she scrubbed at a particularly insistent mark, making Bo smile weakly.
Wait they did. It was a surprisingly short wait, however. Soon there was a light knock on the door. Hayes prepared a mug of water, and Arty opened the door cautiously, allowing a strange looking person to enter. At first Bo thought it was a human sized bird, and the boy leapt to his feet in surprise. After a laugh at Bo's expense however, the man (for it was a man) lifted up what appeared to be a large brown beak. It turned out to be a hood with in-built bulbous lenses as the eyes. Beneath the hood was a young, unkempt human face. The tanned man grinned devilishly, the scruff on his chin bespoke of days on the road, and his short light brown hair was plastered to his head with sweat.
'Can't use magic in the city see? So I had to run here from the city gates! Fooo! That's a workout to remember.' The man was loud, and clearly pretty pleased with himself. He graciously accepted the water, practically inhaling the liquid.
'Are you the lettermage?' asked Bo, curiously eyeing off the strange cloak worn by the man. It drooped over his hands when at rest, giving him the appearance of having wings.
'Am I? Kid, I am the greatest lettermage the desert lands have to offer. You can call me Pare' boasted the man, no hint of modesty coloured his tone. Arty snorted in disbelief, shaking her head,
'How many times have I heard that?' she asked. The man acted as though the warrior had physically wounded him with her words.
'Look, say what yer like, right, but I got the air-delivery suit and everything – so you know I gotta be top class. Us delivery slaves don't have many of these left, you know. They only go to the best,' he complained, plying his argument to all who would listen. Bo was a little shocked to hear that the man was a slave, but Hayes quickly told Bo that Erik was being over-dramatic. He was just a regular worker. 'Regular worker my tail-feathers,' grumbled the lettermage, 'I hardly get paid enough for a crust of bread. Ahhh such a hard life!' With a level of curiosity not befitting a delivery boy, Erik received Bo's letter. 'Cor mate, you have a pretty big package there, and no before you ask I'm talking about the letter.' Erik winked rougishly at Bo before lifting the letter to his ear and shaking it violently to see if he could hear anything rattle around inside. He then proceeded to feel it with his hands as though trying to work out what was inside. 'Tch, this really is only a letter, hey? I was hoping it would be something more exciting!'
'Don't treat it roughly!' huffed Bo angrily, trying to snatch the letter away, 'I thought you were supposed to deliver letters, not feel them up!' Erik laughed loudly, and kept the letter out of Bo's reach.
'Letter don't belong to you no more kid – it's mine until I deliver it to the rightful recipient, so- NYA NYA,' Erik blew a raspberry, but at the same time he did stop fondling the letter, packing it into a messenger bag that hung at his hip. Despite the fact that he'd just run across town to receive the envelope, the lettermage was soon on his way again, and Arty, Hayes and Bo walked back downstairs, heading out of the door and back towards the upper city, carefully ignoring the odd looks given them by the regular patrons. Bo's worries that Erik was unreliable quickly washed away as he was distracted with a sweet that Arty bought for him for just that reason. Hayes was hugely amused that the ploy worked so easily.
They dallied a little here and there, taking in the sights once they got back to the upper town. Bo revelled in the food stalls, and his companions were quick to realise that what Bo saw was different to what they saw – there was a layer of magic over the upper city that cloaked it in a kind of elvish thrall, making it seem beautiful to even the most cynical and world weary eyes. Bo paused, entranced by a performer. He was making doves appear out of seemingly nowhere, and then disappear again. At first Hayes and Arty seemed disinterested.
'Those magicians are such frauds,' murmured Arty, but seeing Bo's interest they walked closer.
'You see he is supposed to be doing those tricks without the aid of actual magic' explained Hayes quietly, 'but usually they just try to use sneaky spells. Once you know how they do the magic without detection you just get disappointed' she added. The man winked at Bo, seeing that the boy was easily impressed. Bo grinned back at him – whatever the man was doing, it looked amazing to the teen, and he had to be dragged away from the performance. The last thing they visited was the bolt hole. It was a famous road that cut through The Gutter, and the upper city, hidden away behind high walls. It lead directly to the castle from the outside, but in times of war it could be blocked off by over a dozen heavy iron gates. It could only ever be used by The King and chosen members of his ambulant court, so that they didn't have to look upon the lower classes when entering and exiting Middlefortress. The tour was cut short, however, as the town clock chimed, and Hayes anxiously noted that Erasmus would have been waiting for them for some time now and was probably worried, so with no small amount of regret, the trio headed back toward the castle. Going back was a lot more tiring than the earlier downhill walk, as it was all uphill, with steep sloped stone stairs that were almost more difficult to traverse than an unadorned incline.
Bursting into Erasmus' room in good cheer, they were slow to see that Erasmus himself was lying prone, entangled in covers of his bed. The top half of his jumpsuit had been partially peeled away to reveal a sturdily built torso and strong shoulders. The mage seemed to be heavily intoxicated, and he tried to get up onto one elbow to greet his friends, but he looked very dizzy. His eyelids were heavy, and the large mage was forced to squint at his companions.
Bo frowned, his eyes moving from the bed to the other person standing beside the bed – Takeshi. Arty and Hayes hurried over to Erasmus, chuckling that they had warned him about drinking too much. They ignored Takeshi completely, who was frozen, as though caught in the act of something, and a horrible suspicion struck up in Bo's mind. The teen walked straight over to the orange clad desert man, his eyes glinting with rage. Holding fast as though he wouldn't be seen if he stayed still, Takeshi watched with narrowed eyes as Bo approached, although, the anger in the teen's face was almost enough to drive Takeshi back physically.
As soon as Bo reached the man, he let fly with a powerful punch to Takeshi's lower jaw, sending the mage sprawling to the floor, clutching at his lower jaw and howling with pain. Arty and Hayes were quick to back Bo up, hurrying over to see what he was doing. With a piteous groan Takeshi became visible. Hayes grabbed Arty's shoulder to stop her partner from doing anything she would regret later. Restricted from pummelling Takeshi, Arty spat on the ground.
'I might have known you'd be here!' she growled. 'Get out!' Takeshi, cowed by the self-righteous rage emanating from the group of three, did not bother arguing back. His furious gaze was centred mostly around Bo, as he slunk out of the door and away to his own rooms. Making sure the door was firmly closed H
ayes set to making a sobering drink for Erasmus, while Bo and Arty checked to make sure an overindulgence in alcohol was the most of the man's worries.
Once he had come back to a more cognisant state Erasmus admitted that the wine had been good, and the servers were all too keen to keep everyone's glass topped up. He hadn't realised how tipsy he was until he'd stood up at the end of the lunch. Takeshi had offered to take him back to his room, and knowing he'd not be able to get back himself, Erasmus had accepted.
'He left, though, as soon as he brought me back. I remember,' added Erasmus. He claimed he'd been tired – too tired to strip off completely, and had simply decided to go to sleep when the trio had come back from their walk.
'Takeshi is such a slug,' grumbled Hayes, as she handed Erasmus another drink of tea, 'if he wasn't here to harass Erasmus, because it sounds like he had plenty of opportunity, I wonder what he was in here for?' Bo played idly with his food as he listened in. He was glad that Erasmus was safe, but something about Takeshi bothered him more than it should. Uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, Erasmus began to question Hayes and Arty about the talk they'd had with the council chairwoman. He was very upset to hear that they were expected to sit back and do nothing until given further orders,
'What about those slaves that are still in danger?' he argued angrily, standing up and striding around the room in frustration. 'Those orders could take months, you know the council never moves quickly!'
'They still believe Takeshi when he says the peace talks are going well, they wouldn't want to jeopardise that now,' murmured Hayes. 'It is unlikely that they will extend their permission for us to do anything at the current time.' Despite Erasmus' pleas and arguments, the warriors refused to go against their orders. Eventually, in bad spirit, Hayes and Arty left for their own room, leaving Bo with an irate Erasmus. The tall mage muttered that he was going to do some study to take his mind off things, turning and moving to the armchair. Bo sighed, unable to decide what he would do. Usually Erasmus proved to be good company, but at the present time he was too sulky to talk to.
'Damn that man!' cursed Erasmus. In a kind of controlled panic, the mage was roughly sorting through his books and papers. 'He's taken my damn notes, it must have been him!' With a heavy sigh Erasmus flopped into his armchair. 'Honestly what could he want from them? Takeshi has no head for magic, he can't possibly understand my notes!' Unable to do anything to stop Erasmus from fretting and ranting, Bo fell into bed, feeling tired from his early morning wake up calls. He hoped that Erasmus would be in a better mood the next morning.