by AC Cobble
Tomas smiled sweetly at Amelie. “My tent is yours, my lady. Take your time getting ready, and I’m eager to hear your story. I will tell you all I know about your father.” He walked to one side of the tent and flipped back the lid of a glossy mahogany chest. “We don’t have any suitable clothing for you, but you are near my size, and it is clean. Take whatever you like.”
The seneschal swept toward the tent flap to exit, gesturing for Ben to follow. “You, boy, come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up as well. Maybe the soldiers have something you can wear. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’re still around.” The mousy man sighed dramatically.
Ben followed without comment.
Seneschal Tomas was undeniably rude, but Ben had to admit, the man did know how to run a comfortable campsite.
Washed, changed, and feeling safe for the first time in weeks, they relaxed around a rickety folding table in Tomas’ tent. The food was simple military fare, but the wine was excellent.
“Tomas, I’m glad you found us, but what are you doing here?” asked Amelie once they settled.
The small man fidgeted in his seat and then replied smoothly, “After we got back from Akew Woods, we knew something was wrong. You were gone from the Sanctuary, they were cagey about what happened, and then we got the news about Issen. I discussed it with my colleagues at the Consulate. We decided that finding you should be our first priority.”
“Akew Woods, of course. I had forgotten you went there,” replied Amelie sheepishly.
“You’ve been through a lot, my lady.” Tomas smiled.
“Saala went with you. Where is he now?” she inquired.
“We didn’t know where you would go.” Tomas reached across to the wine decanter and refilled his glass. “We assumed Whitehall and Northport were the strongest possibilities. Once you found out about Issen, I knew you would try for one of them, so we split up. Raphael and I covered the river road to Northport. Saala went to Whitehall.”
“What do you know about the siege?” asked Amelie. “We only heard about it a few days ago.”
Tomas frowned. “I’m afraid it doesn’t sound good. Issen is surrounded and the Coalition’s force is larger than anyone expected. Your father was preparing for war, of course, but how ready was he? I’ve been gone so long that I really don’t know.”
Amelie laid down her cutlery and looked between Ben and Tomas. “I think it is clear then. We must continue to Northport and do whatever we can to enlist Lord Rhymer’s help.”
Tomas shook his head slightly. “No, my lady. I do not think that is wise. I believe the best course of action is to go to Whitehall and speak to Argren. You will be safe there.”
“Argren has not sent reinforcements to Issen yet. Do you think he will just because we ask him?” demanded Amelie.
“We won’t know until we do ask,” argued Tomas. “Saala is there. He is a military man and has a head for these kinds of situations.”
Amelie pursed her lips in frustration.
“I don’t know…” she started.
“He is your liege lord,” reminded Tomas. “There is an obligation there. You should go to him first. If he does not support you, then you can try Northport. If you ask him in person, I am sure he will agree to send help. The other lords in the Alliance won’t stand with him if word gets out that he refused a personal request from a vassal. It wouldn’t be much of an Alliance then, would it?”
Reluctantly, Amelie shook her head yes. To Ben, Argren shouldn’t need Amelie’s request before he sent reinforcements to his banner man, but he didn’t understand the world of lords and ladies. They played mysterious games. Ben knew he had to trust the people like Tomas who knew those games best.
The next morning, the camp was a kicked anthill of activity. The soldiers were packing up tents, tables, chairs, and a wide variety of other equipment. They had commandeered a wagon from someone and loaded it high. Ben, who was used to traveling light and camping in the rough, watched on amused.
Beside him, a high-pitched voice remarked, “A bit silly, isn’t it.”
Ben jumped and glanced over his shoulder to see the hulking bodyguard Raphael standing right next to him. The man moved as silently as the wind.
“My Master Tomas does enjoy his comforts,” continued Raphael, nodding toward a heavy barrel of wine the soldiers were rolling to the wagon.
Amelie came over to join them. Raphael bowed shallowly to her with a sly smile.
“That’s unnecessary,” she told him uncomfortably. “I’ve gotten used to being treated just like everyone else. Also, I don’t think it’s wise to give away I’m highborn.”
“A good idea, my lady,” murmured Raphael.
The heavyset bodyguard padded away.
Amelie remarked, “That man has always made me uncomfortable.”
“You know him from Issen?” asked Ben.
“As long as I can remember, he has been with Tomas,” she replied. “He stayed mostly in the background at my father’s court. I’ve heard he’s a deadly fighter. The guards there said he was a blademaster, though he doesn’t claim the sigil. I’m not sure why. He is a very strange man.”
“I agree. He’s creepy,” grumbled Ben. “He keeps sneaking up on me.”
“Better to have men like that by your side than behind you,” concluded Amelie.
Finally, the soldiers got all of the equipment loaded onto the wagon and they were ready to begin. Tomas and Raphael took the lead. Ben and Amelie walked together in the middle of a ring of steel. Twenty armored soldiers of Issen walked around them.
As they started walking, a plainly dressed woman appeared and kept pace with Tomas.
Ben frowned and nodded ahead. “Who is that?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Amelie. She turned to one of the soldiers. “Excuse me. Who is that with Tomas?”
The man shrugged, causing a sharp scrape of metal on metal from his armor, “I’m not sure, my lady. I believe she is from the Consulate, a diplomat, though I don’t recognize her. She’s been with us since the City.”
“That’s strange,” said Ben. “I was in the Consulate many times visiting Saala. I don’t recognize her.”
Amelie breathed deep. “We’ll have to ask Tomas about her when we stop.” She stretched her arms above her head and swung them loosely. “I’ve gotten so used to hiking with a pack on that I don’t know what to do with my arms without one. It’s nice to be walking without all of that extra weight.”
Ben grinned. “I feel the same.” He was carrying only the Venmoor steel longsword Rhys had given him after Snowmar and the hunting knife Serrot gave him right before Ben left Farview. His and Amelie’s packs were lying in the back of the wagon.
“We can find some extra armor if you want to try walking in that all day,” grumbled the nearby soldier good naturedly.
The travel with Tomas and the armed guards was vastly different than the mad scramble away from the City or even the initial journey with Lady Towaal.
Each evening, they sat around a fire and sipped wine while the soldiers set up Tomas’ tent. Raphael did most of the cooking for them and he was an expert chef. The meals he created over an open fire were just as good as any of the ones Ben had at nice taverns in the City.
Early in the mornings, while the soldiers were still packing everything away, Raphael offered to practice the sword with Ben. At their request, Raphael added Amelie to the exercises also.
The man moved with a lazy sort of grace that belied how quick and strong he was. Ben found he had just as much trouble landing a strike on Raphael as he did Saala. Raphael’s style was similar to Saala though, so Ben didn’t completely embarrass himself.
With Amelie, Raphael was patient and instructive. He slowly walked her through handling her two blades at once, and while she wasn’t adept at it yet, she started to get a feel for what was possible. Just like Black Bart, Raphael advised using the weapons for defense and counterattack. He showed her a few attack sequences but was keen to point out their
weaknesses.
In all, Ben started to relax and enjoy the odd man’s company. He was a quiet and kind counterpoint to Tomas, who loved to hear himself talk and was constantly rude to Ben. Despite Tomas’ demeanor though, Ben became comfortable with him as well. He didn’t like the man, but it was so obvious the man didn’t like him either that Ben felt he knew where he stood with the seneschal. It was refreshing in a way, to drop the pretense of false friendship.
The soldiers were also nice to Ben and very courteous to Amelie. The advantages of being a highborn, Ben supposed. Anything she needed, they were quick to do it for her.
The outlier was the strange woman who stayed near Tomas’ side while they were on the move then frequently disappeared when they stopped. She rarely spoke. She claimed she was employed at the Issen Consulate in the City but neither Ben nor Amelie could recall ever seeing her. For a career diplomat, she was strangely uninterested in Amelie.
Ben and Amelie speculated over what secrets the woman was hiding but eventually shrugged it off. The mystery and sense of danger around one odd woman was nothing compared to the fear they felt over the last two months. The ring of Issen steel around them did a lot to dispel fears of the Coalition finding them.
Ben mentioned their concern about mages, but Tomas brushed it off. “Mages don’t go out into the world for manhunts, boy. They have soldiers and hunters for that kind of thing, and we are well prepared for whatever attack those types throw at us.”
Ben wasn’t so sure, but Raphael, who constantly loitered around Tomas, smiled serenely. Ben felt a little better. The bodyguard was a force to be reckoned with.
They approached Kirksbane again, this time from the north. Ben couldn’t help but feel a tingle of trepidation. It felt like he was being watched or like he had a constant itch in the middle of his back that no amount of scratching would soothe.
Amelie felt it as well. They both stayed close and cleared the hilts of their weapons.
The soldiers around them continued on like they had the entire trip, coarsely joking and laughing with each other. Their homeland was under attack, but near Kirksbane, deep in the heart of the Alliance, they felt no fear.
Raphael noticed Ben and Amelie’s tension and hung back to walk with the young people.
“Feeling a little jumpy today?” he asked in his soft voice.
Ben shrugged uncomfortably. “Last time we were here we got involved in a deadly fight in a tavern. Then we were attacked again right outside of town. It was a bad two days. The time before that, an assassin tried to murder us in the middle of the street in broad daylight. I’m starting to not like this place.”
“Don’t worry. You have Tomas and me with you this time. Tomas has a plan,” assured the swordsman.
“A plan?” asked Amelie.
Raphael looked at her silently.
“A different plan than we know about?” she insisted.
“No, of course not.” The swordsman smiled.
“Maybe I should talk to Tomas,” she stated.
“Sorry if I have concerned you,” rumbled the swordsman. “Yes, talk to Tomas, but not now. We should pay attention.”
As they spoke, they reached the outskirts of Kirksbane. The small trading town that seemed so friendly the first time they passed through was a maze of hidden threats now. Ben couldn’t help but search every face they saw, looking to see if anyone recognized him. Despite Tomas’ assurances they would be safe, Ben was convinced Coalition and Sanctuary watchers would be nearby. Maybe they didn’t have enough force to attack, but they could alert their masters to where Amelie was located.
Tomas steered them toward the Curve Inn. Amelie abruptly put a stop to that. Without explaining why, she demanded they stay somewhere else.
Ben stayed out of that discussion and avoided Amelie’s sidelong glares.
Finally, Tomas agreed with a dramatic sigh and they found another place to stay.
The oddly named Angry Badger sat near the outskirts of town and looked to be an inn catering toward the wealthier merchants and lords coming from Sineook Valley. It had an unusually large stable yard and plenty of room to tie up wagons. It had a separate bathing facility and offered a comfortable- looking common room. It wasn’t nearly as raucous as the Curve, which was fine with Ben.
On initial inspection, they had plenty of ale kegs stacked behind a long bar.
“Tomas,” called Amelie. He’d just finished with the innkeeper, and the rotund man was counting a fistful of silver, enough silver to pay for twenty-five new guests.
“Yes, my lady?” replied Tomas.
“We need to talk,” she declared.
Tomas met Raphael’s eyes and hesitated before answering. “Certainly. Right after we get freshened up.”
“Now, Tomas,” she complained.
“My lady, we’ve been on the road for days. Let us get cleaned up, have some refreshments brought, and we can spend the entire evening speaking.” The seneschal wasn’t outright defying Amelie’s wishes, but Ben noticed even some of the soldiers looked over with curious expressions.
Amelie glared at Tomas then agreed. “Fine. Immediately after we’ve bathed.”
The inn keep, who had been nervously standing back, bustled forward, describing the amenities his inn had to offer. Ben let the man’s hurried voice wash over him and he surveyed the room. Nothing seemed out of place that he could see, but the tingle of concern had not left him.
He drew close to Amelie and whispered to her, “Keep your weapons close.”
She stared ahead hard-eyed, then nodded.
Both the women’s and the men’s bathing chambers were located across the wagon yard in a back building that spilled steam every time a door was opened. Tomas insisted the women’s room be cleared before Amelie entered then he posted a handful of guards outside of the door. He instructed the other guards to make a patrol of the inn’s premises and report anything out of the ordinary. He gave Amelie a cheeky smile as if to say, ‘see, I told you so’. She disappeared inside without smiling back.
The men’s side was empty as well when Ben, Tomas, and Raphael entered.
The swordsman quickly stripped down and circled the room, picking up towels and soap. There was a large tank of heated water which he happily scooped up in buckets and filled three tin tubs.
Tomas ducked back outside and returned with a large earthenware pitcher of wine and three tankards.
“I hope you don’t mind I got red,” apologized the mousy seneschal. “I prefer white for bathing, but it isn’t chilled here,” he remarked with a petulant frown. “I just can’t stand that. Red will have to do.”
The naked Raphael strode over to Tomas and poured three full tankards. Tomas placed a hand on the big man’s back before accepting his and retreating to a corner where he also stripped.
Ben took his tankard then plunged into the steaming bath.
The room was filled with sounds of soft splashing from the men washing. None of them spoke. Ben’s head was ringing with unfocused concern. The other two seemed entirely focused on enjoying the hot water and wine.
Before long, a soldier poked in his head and called, “Lady Amelie is finishing up, sir. You wanted me to let you know.”
Tomas waved a hand at the man then stood. “We shouldn’t keep a lady waiting,” he acknowledged.
They quickly dressed and Ben strapped on his longsword and hunting knife. It felt odd being armed in a bathing chamber but he saw Raphael and Tomas kept their weapons as well. Raphael had a long scimitar and Tomas an unusual thick-bladed rapier, almost a broadsword, but with a basket hilt. Ben wasn’t sure if the seneschal knew how to use the sword. He never practiced with them on the road.
Out in the courtyard, they waited briefly for Amelie to appear.
When she came out, she saw Tomas and informed him, “We will meet now. I want to be clear on what our next move is.”
“As you wish, let us be clear. I think now is the time we all put our cards on the table,” replied the seneschal in a
condescending tone.
Amelie peered at him quizzically, and then looked around in alarm as the telltale jangle of armed men running filled the air. In heartbeats, the courtyard was filled with crossbow-carrying men decked in chainmail and nondescript tunics. They were led by the mysterious woman who had traveled with them. She was still wearing the plainly made dress she wore on the road, but had gained an air of superiority that Ben hadn’t noticed previously.
The pale blue-clad Issen soldiers drew their swords and formed a loose circle around Amelie, Ben, Thomas, and Raphael. They were outnumbered three to one and at a disadvantage to the crossbows.
“What is going on?” shouted Amelie.
“I’m putting my cards on the table,” replied Tomas coolly. “Issen is surrounded. Argren was too stupid to see it coming. His Alliance is facing an unbeatable Coalition to the east and an unfriendly Sanctuary at their backs. I’m afraid there is just no reliable future in your father’s employ. I’ve decided to go freelance and sell my services to the highest bidder.”
“You’re working for the Coalition now! How could you?” cried Amelie.
“Not the Coalition.” Tomas smirked.
The woman demanded in a commanding tone, “Initiate Amelie, your presence is requested back at the Sanctuary.”
Amelie glared at the woman and demanded, “Who are you?”
“Lady Ingrid,” she responded with no emotion. “The Veil assigned me to secure your return.”
“My return?” asked Amelie incredulously.
“Return. That has a better ring to it than captured, dead or alive, doesn’t it?” asked the woman. A sinister smile spread across her face.
Ice ran through Ben’s veins and he cursed himself. The woman was a mage. Why hadn’t they seen it!
Amelie took an aggressive fighting stance. She didn’t have her weapons, though. Ben wasn’t sure what kind of magic she could call against a full mage. The Issen soldiers saw their lady preparing to fight and grips tightened on their swords. They nervously eyed the crossbowmen, but didn’t back down.
Tomas held an amused look.
“Don’t be foolish, Initiate,” said the woman. “The only thing resisting will do is get you and your men killed. I’m quite happy to take you alive, but I do not need to.”