“Yep, and she’s pretty impressive, if you ask me,” Ronan said with a wink. “You’ll see what I mean when she gets here.”
“And our other prospective ally?” Aiden asked, keeping an eye on Nellise all the while.
“She’s a druid,” Ronan answered, and received incredulous looks from all around the table.
“A druid,” Pacian smirked. “In the city. A druid, of all people. Are you sure you couldn’t find anyone less useful?”
“I know, not exactly what you were expecting,” Ronan continued, ticking off fingers as he spoke. “Trying to find someone willing to help us was harder than you might expect. Couldn’t ask any of the City Watch, all the caravan guards have been hired by the king for his army, local wizards are all affiliated with the University and are forbidden to hire themselves out at any price, my underworld contacts apparently want me dead and my fellow sailors on the Redoubtable are busy repairing the ship. These two women are from outside the city, having only arrived here in the last week, and so they’ve got no ties to any local factions.”
“I know what you’re saying, but she’s not what I was expecting,” Ronan added. “She can do all sorts of prayers apparently, not unlike Nellise here, but she’s also got a keen mind, if I’m any judge. Just meet with her before you make up your mind, that’s all.”
“I won’t make any promises,” Nellise warned. “My prior dealings with so-called ‘nature priests’ have been less than pleasant. And what she does isn’t connected with myself or my faith at all, just to be clear.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Ronan advised her with a wink. Nellise merely shrugged and continued eating, while Aiden spotted Sir William moving through the crowd to their table. His appearance was substantially different to last night, having discarded his regular attire in favour of steel armour engraved with what Aiden guessed was his personal standard, a majestic eagle with something indistinct grasped in its talons.
Worn gold trim weaved its way around the edges, and the entire ensemble appeared to be quite old. The sword hanging from his belt and shield strapped to his back gave him the appearance of a proper knight, which had been lacking the night before, and the effect was startling.
“Bracing weather this morning,” he grumbled, dusting snow off his shoulders and taking the last remaining seat at the table offered by Nellise.
“Sir William, nice to see you properly caparisoned for action,” Aiden greeted him respectfully. “This is Ronan, whom you haven’t met, and we’re soon to meet two other potential allies as well.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Sir William offered in his sonorous tenor, shaking hands with each of them. “You look as though you’ve been running through the sewers all night, Ronan. I would have thought you’d have the good grace to clean yourself up before sitting at the table with women of quality.”
“Yeah I should go do that, and probably get some sleep, too” Ronan sighed. “I just wanted to make sure the ladies knew who to talk to when they get here.”
“Just tell us what they look like and we’ll take it from there,” Pacian shrugged.
“Okay,” Ronan agreed, standing up and wiping his hands on his filthy coat. “The Akoran woman’s name is Valennia, and she’s about six feet tall so you probably won’t miss her. The druid you’re all so keen to meet goes by the name Margaret and though you might have trouble finding her, you’ll recognise her easily enough since she’s a little raelani lass and tops out at just over three feet. Bye now.”
“Wait, what?” Aiden blurted as Ronan disappeared off into the morning crowd. Pacian chuckled at the sailor’s laconic sense of humour, leaving the last little detail until he was safely out of questioning range.
“We shouldn’t be judging her by her race or height,” Nellise mentioned casually. “Her religion, on the other hand…”
“What’s a raelani?” Sayana asked, somewhat puzzled.
“You’ve seen those half-sized people walking around the city, right?” Pacian said. “One of those.”
“I thought they were children,” the sorceress wondered.
“Only at a glance, but if you get a close look, you can see they’re fully grown adults,” Pacian explained. “The bearded ones are a dead giveaway.”
“Let’s see what these people have to say for themselves,” Aiden said. “We’re not so overwhelmed with allies that we can be afford to be picky.” Hearing no dissension, he finished off his breakfast while keeping an eye out for the two ladies, and soon spotted the tall Akoran woman striding in through the door.
Ronan’s estimate was pretty accurate — Aiden judged her to be just a shade over six feet in height, and even had she been shorter her attire would have set her apart from all the other patrons. A combination of cured leathers and heavy animal skins adorned her impressive frame, and the handle of a large weapon secured on her back could be seen over her shoulder.
Her face was quite striking and her raven-black hair swept over her shoulder, flowing halfway way down to her waist. Her eyes were dark brown like most of her people, and a certain hardness was set into her jaw line, giving her the look of someone used to struggling daily for survival. Aiden caught her attention and waved her over to their table, watching with some amusement the reaction of the ladies and gentlemen of means at her passing. If Valennia noticed their raised eyebrows and whispered words, she paid them no heed.
“You are the ones Ronan suggested I meet, yes?” she stated, standing at the edge of the table and looking down upon them as if ready to strike them dead at a moment’s notice. Her voice wasn’t as deep as Aiden thought it would be, but it was harsh and throaty as if from shouting a lot.
“Yes, we’ve been awaiting your arrival,” Aiden replied, taking in her appearance. “We don’t seem to have any spare seats at the moment…” Sir William instantly stood up and appeared to be offering his seat to the Akoran woman.
“Please tell your elderly servant that I do not wish him to strain himself unduly by fetching another chair,” she told Aiden with no hint of sarcasm in her voice. Sir William appeared to choke on his own tongue while Valennia reached over and took an empty seat from a nearby table.
“I am no servant, Madam,” Sir William informed her diplomatically, his face turning red as he sat down in his chair once more. Aiden interrupted any further comments from the Valennia by introducing himself and the others, before getting to the important part of the conversation.
“My name is Aiden. Ronan tells me you’re interested in providing some assistance,” he began, reluctant to mention any part of the real reason behind their need for allies. “To be honest, we could use a strong warrior like you.”
“This does not surprise me, Aiden, since your group appears to consist of mere girls and unbearded young men, protected only by a feeble old man in worn-out armour.”
“Yes… yes,” Aiden agreed hesitantly, cautiously watching Sir William from out of the corner of his eye. “And that’s why we need you. What we don’t need is someone looking to start fights just to appease their boredom.”
“When I fight, it is because the situation demands it,” she responded harshly. “The pathetic dregs in this place hardly qualify as worthy opponents. I listened to Ronan and came here at his request, for I was growing tired of the drunken men in the last ale house trying to seduce me. If you plan to test my resolve, I will walk away right now.”
“Those are some brave, brave men,” Pacian murmured under his breath, receiving a nudge to his ribs from Nellise for his trouble.
“If you’re looking for work, we can cover your expenses,” Aiden continued.
“I do require coin to keep my belly full, and the hunting in this ‘city’ is terrible. How can anyone live on those tiny beasts that scamper around the back streets?”
“…Do you mean rats?” Pacian asked.
“Yes, that is what someone called them.”
“Right, I just wanted to make sure,” he said, nodding to himself. “Aiden, could I hav
e a word?”
“I’ll be just a minute,” Aiden told Valennia, stepping away from the table to confer with Pacian. “What is it?”
“This woman is clearly some sort of idiot,” he whispered loudly enough to be heard over the clamour of the inn’s patrons. “Who the hell goes hunting rats like they were wild boar?”
“She’s not from around here, so there’s probably some cultural issues getting in the way,” Aiden suggested. “Yes, I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt, but still, she looks like she knows how to swing that… whatever it is. Axe? I didn’t get a good look. Anyway, if she can fight and follow orders, that’s all we need. We just point her towards whoever needs killing and off she goes.”
“If she’s anything like her kindred down in the mountains, she’ll be good at that,” Pacian conceded.
“Okay, I think that’s settled,” Aiden finished, turning around to sit back at the table again. With a glance he saw that Sir William was barely keeping his opinions in check, Nellise had a cold, hunted expression marring her features, and Sayana looked like she wanted to run and hide.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Aiden apologised. “Before we go on, I wanted to know what brought you all the way north to Fairloch. Akorans are not commonly seen here, which is to say, you’re the first that I’ve encountered in my brief time here.”
“We are usually not welcomed outside of our own borders,” she informed them soberly. “I am here because my father, chief of the tribe, was overthrown by a brutal man and I was forced to choose between exile and death. Soon, when the time is right, I will return and have my vengeance upon him, and return my father to his rightful place as chief of the Akora.”
“Wait, your father is Morik Far-Eagle?” Aiden asked, incredulous.
“Yes. I am Valennia, Daughter of Morik Far-Eagle, slayer of the great white bear,” she announced loudly as if daring some deity of her choice to strike her down for saying so. “You know of my father?”
“Yes we freed him from captivity recently and returned him to his rightful place as chief of the Akora,” Aiden explained. “At least, I think he is. We haven’t heard anything from that area since we left.” He looked at the others with a raised eyebrow. Morik was thought of as an honourable man and even if his daughter wasn’t as intelligent, she must have inherited some of her father’s other traits.
“If you are telling me the truth, then I thank you,” she said, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny of Aiden. “When I return home, I shall meet him and exchange tales of valour. I misjudged you before, Aiden. You are not a mere boy, but a man who has seen battle and taken no joy from it.” He was disturbed by this accurate impression, and was reminded of how his father had reacted when they had last met. Aiden wondered how many other people could see this change in him.
“I hope you like what you’re seeing,” he said evenly, unflinching from her appraisal.
“You are not a cruel man, and by that measure, you are worthy to stand alongside me in battle,” she finished, speaking as if a decision had been made. “Provided, of course, that you pay me one silver noble every day.”
“I can cover that,” Aiden agreed.
“You’re going to hire this woman?” Sir William finally blurted out.
“Do you have an objection to working alongside women?” Nellise asked the elderly knight pointedly.
“Working and fighting on the front lines are two very different concepts, madam,” he replied. “In years past it was unheard of for a woman to fight alongside men, but times are changing. Before you say it, yes, I’m stuck in my old ways a little too much, perhaps, yet there is more than the issue of prejudices against the fairer sex at stake here.”
“Explain yourself, old man,” Valennia ordered, not backing down even a little.
“I question the need to have the inferior morals of this woman, little more than a savage, in our ranks. We are working to preserve our civilisation and our way of life, two things I have no doubt you have little concept of, madam.”
“Do not call me that word,” she warned the knight. “I have seen the women in this city who answer to that description and I am not one of them.”
“Precisely my point,” Sir William said as he smoothed his moustache. “It is one thing to look for people outside the city, but to trust a member of another nation — for Akora is exactly that — is foolish.”
“Sir William, you have only just joined us, so I’ll grant you some leeway here,” Aiden began, folding his fingers together. “Sayana here would fit that description as well, and yet we trust her implicitly. The very thing you accuse Val of is one of her virtues in this instance, because she has no ties to the political whims of this city and its nobility. Finally, we know her father, a man of honour and moral fibre, so if this young woman is anything like him then I trust her well enough to bring her in on this.”
“Allow me to clarify,” Sir William restated, looking directly at Val. “I am not questioning your honour. I am simply stating that your approach to our delicate situation would appear to be somewhat… primitive.”
“Then you have much yet to learn, old man,” Val growled defiantly. “Permit me to fight alongside you, Aiden, and I will show this relic my true nature.”
“In spite of Sir William’s position,” Aiden responded, “I think I speak for the others when I say that your heritage speaks louder than you do, and as such, you’re welcome to join.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sir William finished, earning a black look from the Akoran warrior. Aiden would have to keep an eye on those two, in case it came to blows. If he had to put money down on the fight, he’d bet everything he had on Valennia and then use the proceeds to pay for Sir William’s funeral.
“Pardon me,” came a small woman’s voice from nearby. “I’m looking for a man named Ronan Woulfe, have you seen him? He’s about five-ten, longish hair held back by a bandana, covered in mud…” Aiden looked around but couldn’t see who was speaking.
“Over here,” Sayana called, gaining the attention of whoever had spoken. A moment later, a small head appeared, only a few inches above the edge of the table.
“You know Ronan?” she asked Sayana.
“Yes, and we have been expecting you,” the sorceress replied.
“Ah, you must be Sayana. He mentioned you in great detail,” she added with a wink, causing Sayana to blush and Aiden to have oddly conflicting feelings well up inside. “I’m Margaret Fairweather, but most people just call me Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” Aiden replied. Before he could say more, Sir William once more stood and offered his chair to the newcomer, which was met with a smile and a “thank you” from the little woman. The knight glanced ever so briefly at Valennia in victory, but she did not seem to react. Maggie climbed onto the chair and was finally able to see them all at face-height, though she had to stand up in order to achieve this.
Her hair was a sort of reddish-auburn with a few grey streaks near her temples and held back in a long tail by a small piece of cloth. She looked around with large green eyes at everyone present, and her face had a pleasant appearance that was somewhat odd to see at half human scale, as if she had been shrunk by some sort of magic.
She wore a cured leather breastplate beneath a long forest green robe, cinched at the waist with a series of belts. Attached to it were numerous pouches and a dagger, which for her would be like using a short sword. A thick cloak covered her back and shoulders.
“Well then, you’re the group that Ronan said was interested in helping me out,” Maggie began. “Tell me, are you experienced mercenaries, or just starting out?”
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here, Maggie,” Aiden replied hesitantly. “We were looking for people to help us, not the other way around.”
“Oh,” she replied, crestfallen. “So, you’re not mercenaries then?”
“Some of us are,” Nellise informed her, pointedly not looking at Pacian. “But for the most part, we’
re working for the betterment of humanity in general, and that includes people that aren’t human, of course. So, we’re informed that you are a druid?”
“Yes, of the Feybourne sect, though somewhat removed from them now for reasons you’ll probably hear about shortly.”
“What do you mean?” Aiden asked, confused by that statement.
“You’re probably aware of this,” Maggie began, sitting down on the chair with her legs folded under her, “but druids aren’t exactly looked upon favourably by the Church of Aielund.”
“I’ve heard a few things about that,” Nellise answered, hinting at a longer history between the two faiths.
“There are two dozen members of my order, the largest remaining group on the east coast of Feydwiir. For the past twenty years, there have been certain individuals who have spoken out against the encroachment of civilisation into the ancient forests, as well as persecution from the Church for practicing a ‘pagan religion’.”
“They must feel like they’re under attack,” Sayana remarked, glancing at Nellise.
“They do,” Maggie agreed.
“I have never heard of any crusades against the druidic order,” Nellise pointed out. “Certainly, there has never been any blood spilled between the two.”
“Yes, but constantly being told you’re following the wrong faith does get on one’s nerves after a long time,” Maggie responded. “Just the fact you’ve never heard of forced conversions of other faiths to the Church of Aielund says to me that they kept such information secret. You may think your religion is all goodness and light but there’s a darker side they’ve kept from you, mark my words.
All of this has fuelled the flames of anger in our sect, so the hotheads in our sect deposed our arch druid and started making plans against the Kingdom. I did what I could to reason with them, but I was the only voice of restraint and so in the end, they turned upon me. I spent three days on the run through the forests and swamps fighting for my life before I made it beyond their reach.”
“Are they all raelish?” Sir William inquired.
Soldiers of the Crown Page 11