by Billy Wong
"So I hear Julpy's a fancy town, huh? Wish I'd remembered to bring some nicer clothes to wear."
The days rolled on, and as no more hostile encounters occurred Mark's nerves began to calm somewhat. Perhaps the Duke had lost track of them, or maybe just did not want to try at him again with Ann and Kyle at his side. A familiar sea-salt smell reached his nose, and he closed his eyes to savor it. He was, at last, home again.
Then his worries came rushing back, and he cringed with self-doubt. How much had he changed, and how would his family view him now? He wished he could say he'd become stronger, but did not think he had. Instead, he felt like nothing more than a scared little man riding on the backs of strong friends. It seemed patently ridiculous that he was their party's leader of sorts, by the mere virtue of events centering around him.
"I think I should just go to the militia headquarters and ask my brother Clint if Brianna's been back. I don't know if I'm ready to face my parents yet."
Ann frowned. "What? How can you be scared of your own parents? Not that I'm saying you will, but there's a chance you'll never get to see them again. So I say get over whatever problems you're having and show them you've come back a man.
"Besides, isn't your father a powerful noble himself? We might just be able to use his help."
Thus, they headed into the city and towards the manor Mark could barely remember living in. The streets crowded in on him like a deathtrap, and he found his restless eyes darting all around as he walked jumpily between Kyle and Ann. People returned his stares, and he broke eye contact in shame and fear. It hardly suited a man to walk in such fright, yet how could he not be anxious over the enemies who might lurk anywhere? Finally, he reached his house and knocked.
The housekeeper Peter opened the door. A thin, mustached man of middle years, his eyes widened at the atypical ungroomed state Mark was in. Mark, for his part, took in the manor's long-missed potpourri scent with relish.
"You're back, Young Master? Who are your companions?"
"This is Princess Ann of Perfia and her bodyguard Kyle. Is my father home?"
"Princess? No, he has gone to Kulten to discuss matters with the duke and not yet returned. But I'm sure Mistress Lena will be overjoyed to see you safe."
That Owen was gone made things even worse than they would otherwise be. At least he was accustomed to dealing with dangerous situations and would have been able to offer advice on what to do, while Lena could only be expected to panic if she knew the peril her son was in. They would need to be careful with regard to what they told her.
"What about Clint? Is he home, or still working?"
"I do not believe he has returned yet."
Mark turned to his friends. "All right, I'm going to greet my mother and tell her I'm well, and if Clint hasn't come back after that we'll just wait until he does." He looked at Ann. "Try to watch what you say, okay? Let's try not to scare my mom any more than we absolutely have to."
They went upstairs, where they found Lena watching birds on the balcony as she often did. "Mother, I'm back."
"Mark!" Lena beamed, spinning around with a grin of the wide, unrestrained kind she rarely showed. She must have really missed him. Momentarily forgetting his troubles, Mark returned her joyous expression. "I see you've made new friends. How have you been? You look tired."
"I'm fine, though these last weeks have been a test. Are you and father well?"
"We have been, save for being worried about you. Did you find Brianna?"
Mark's gaze fell. "I did, but we didn't really get to talk. Has she come here looking for me?"
"Not to my knowledge, unless Clint hasn't bothered telling me." Which had a fair chance of being the case, as Lena tended not to get involved much with the affairs of the outside world. "What happened to you out there? Your eyes do really look different."
He gave a dismissive shake of the head. "I haven't slept as well without my own bed, that's all." Not since Lindy's death.
"Are you planning to stay from now on? I can't imagine why you would want to subject yourself to that kind of unnecessary hardship."
Mark had been through a lot more hardship than she knew, but expected to yet face much more. "I have no intentions of abandoning you." That was true. After the nerve-wracking taste he'd had of the adventurer's world, he was quite eager to return to the comfortable life of a noble. "But I still haven't properly introduced myself to Brianna, and if she isn't here I want to go and find her first."
Of course, if Brianna turned out to be in Julpy, he might have to find another excuse to cover up his ongoing conflict with the Duke.
"I suppose I needn't worry so much about you anymore," Lena said. "You seem to have taken care of yourself well enough, and I shouldn't continue underestimating you." Mark found dark irony in the words.
"How much longer are you going to keep talking about yourselves?" Ann asked, her interruption surprisingly welcome. "Isn't it rude to ignore your visitors?"
"You are one to speak," Kyle muttered.
"Oh, shut up," she said with a meaningful glance at Mark.
"Your audacity doesn't suit such a pretty girl." Lena smiled pleasantly. "Are you one of those female Perfian knights I've heard stories about?"
"He's the knight. I'm the princess!"
Lena seemed more amused than impressed, and Mark wondered if she believed Ann was joking. "Are you? Your armor is very cute."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, just because I'm a princess doesn't mean my arms are for show. Let me tell about this time I whupped the tar out of thirteen men I thought were bandits, and turned out to be professional assassins..."
"Ann!" Mark warned with a nudging elbow to her ribs.
"Don't worry," she whispered back. "I won't tell her who was the target."
#
Ann's storytelling provided a much-needed diversion from serious conversation, for Lena seemed to take it as jest and reacted with the mirth befitting such. Even a few graphic details proved no problem, probably because Lena thought the tales nothing more than flights of fantasy. Of course, most of them would seem rather far-fetched to someone who hadn't seen Ann in action.
"Then I grabbed the bear by the snout and flipped sideways, and the twist broke its neck!" she recounted with gusto. "And with that, I won freedom for the harem of the slaver king."
"The harem, yes," Lena said bemusedly, "but what about the rest of the slaves? Seeing as it was the slaver king."
"Oh, I freed them when I killed him. After I snapped his pet bear's neck, I gutted it and hid inside. So when he arrived and started crying over the beast, I sprang out and-"
"Mark?" a voice called from beyond the door. "I didn't know you were back!"
He turned to regard Clint, who stood looking in from the hall. After a moment, he stepped inside. "I just arrived. So, has Brianna come here?"
"Yes, but when I told you you'd gone looking for her she wouldn't wait. She's already left."
Mark sighed. It was beginning to look like he would never find his birth mother again, much less get her advice. "Are you finished with your story, Ann? If you are, let's go somewhere to talk."
#
Clint took Mark and friends to Owen's study, where they told him everything. Every time he heard the story, Mark hated it more. Poor Lindy! He could only pray no more innocents would die because of him...
"So what do you plan on doing now?" Clint asked. "Surely you can't think just to confront the duke and slay him."
"That's what I would probably do in Mark's place," Ann said, "but he wants to get some advice from Brianna first. As I'm always happy to see her too, I have no problem with that."
Clint exchanged a look with Kyle Mark imagined to mean something like "crazy kids." He must not have thought the knight would share sentiments with Ann.
"If you want my advice," he said to Mark, "wait for father to return. If you have to deal with the duke, you'll want him at your back."
"I'd love to have his help, but we can't wait for him to come back!
Talks are stalled, and if things keep going the way they've been, I might be kidnapped or dead by the time they're finished."
"Not necessarily. You've done pretty well to elude capture so far." Clint patted his shoulders. "But you could go to find him in Kulten, if you think you must."
"I might. I'm certainly not set on taking down the Duke alone. But if Brianna is closer, I'd still like to talk to her about it first. Did she tell you where she would go?"
"I think you should just go straight to Kulten."
Mark blinked at his brother's odd tone. "Why? Did Brianna..?"
"Arrith. She said she was going to Arrith."
#
Too confounded to engage in useful discussion, Mark shared some unimportant words with Clint before retiring to his room. Ann accompanied him there. Not typical practice for a female guest, but nobody bothered trying to stop her.
"Arrith?" he mumbled sitting on his bed. "Why would she go to Arrith? It must have something to do with the mess I'm in, but what?"
"It doesn't have to," Ann said beside him. "Stranger coincidences have happened. But let's say it does. What do we know about the Duke, and who exactly he is?"
"I don't know much. I've never met him or paid much attention to talk about him. All I can remember off the top of my head is that he has a respectable image, and is fairly old."
"That's not very helpful. Maybe Brianna's just friends with him, or hopefully more acquaintances. She should have a lot, with her fame."
"I guess so. I'll ask Clint more about him later. But I really hope they aren't close."
"Look, there's no way your mother would side with a friend against her own son. That is, if you tell her!"
Mark recoiled in surprise. "How did you know I don't want to?"
"I saw the look in your eyes whenever I brought it up. I understand you don't want her to get hurt, but you have to realize you're a lot more vulnerable than her."
"I know, but just because I'm not strong doesn't mean I can't try to protect the people I care about."
Ann touched his hand. "You're pretty strong. Not physically, but I'd think it takes some balls to go up against an evil duke."
"I don't have much of a choice. Besides, with you around, what do I have to fear?"
"Me."
"You?"
"Losing me. At least, that's what most of the men I've tried to be serious with did. Nobody declines me a night in bed, but when it comes to love they're always afraid of being discarded. Male sluts don't seem to have this problem."
She looked seductively into his eyes. "So, would you reject me out of fear what the future might bring?"
Mark shrugged. "Probably not. Right now, my hold on life is tenuous enough I don't think much about the future at all."
To his shock, Ann grabbed him by the arms and threw him onto the bed. "W-what are you doing?!" he yelped.
She answered him very clearly without the use of words, as she straddled him and bent to kiss his lips. What followed was both fascinating and frightening, but most of all exhilarating, and not once did the thought cross his mind of resisting.
#
"As of yesterday night," Ann announced proudly at breakfast the next morning, "our Mark is no longer a virgin." Kyle seemed unfazed, and Clint much the same. "What?" she asked upon seeing the way Lena blushed at her words. "It had to happen sometime."
Though fairly embarrassed to have his private life laid out in the open, Mark did not mind Ann. The more lesser issues Lena had on her mind, the less likely it was she would catch on to the mortal danger her son was in. He wondered if he was a bad person for thinking of intimate relations with a woman as a distraction, but then Ann often treated such things much more casually than him.
"She wanted me," he said under Clint's sly, questioning gaze. "I couldn't deny a princess."
"You seem like a nice girl," Lena said awkwardly. "Are you planning to marry him?"
"Marry him? What are you talking about? Mark's promising, but I'm nowhere near ready to make any promises."
"I'm only concerned about you. A young woman who acts careless with her body does so at more risk than a man."
Mark listened to Lena continue imparting her older-woman wisdom to the princess, wisdom of course that would only be expected to have an effect by those who didn't know Ann.
"I'll keep your words in mind," Ann said before Lena went to clean the dishes. She looked to the men. "So where to next, Kulten or Arrith?"
"Kulten is closer than Arrith," Clint said. "Another point in its favor."
"How long ago did Brianna leave here?" Mark asked. "If she hasn't been gone long, we might be able to catch her before she reaches Arrith."
"She has at least a good week's start on you, I'm afraid." To be expected, considering how many times Mark had been laid up along the way. "Barring a miracle, I can't see you catching up to her."
"I want to find my mother, but it won't do me much good to be killed by the ruler of the place I'm searching. I suppose it can't hurt to see father first."
Ann put hands on her hips and snorted. Mark could sympathize with her impatience, for he too tired of weathering the Duke's attacks. "More sidetracking? When are we ever going to get to the big showdown already?"
"It's not like we'd be going farther away from Arrith or anything. Kulten is not far to the west, while Arrith is west and north; it wouldn't be that much of a sidetrack. What do you think, Kyle?"
He hesitated. Mark expected the knight to agree with him, but figured he did not want to argue against Ann. "I will not take sides. But they are two against you, princess."
"Yeah? One of them isn't traveling with us, and I'm a princess."
"Come on, Kyle," Mark said, "give us your opinion. You are the most experienced of us here."
"Fine, the old man will speak. I am with Ann." Ann? Kyle did not seem one to share her reckless approach, but perhaps his desire to get revenge for Lindy made things different. Yet he must still doubt whether his mind was on the right track, hence his reluctance to speak it. "More delays will give our enemy more chances to catch us off guard, and for us to meet him in his realm will not be expected."
Ann smirked. "Looks like the strongest and the oldest are agreed. Can we make up our minds, or do we have to waste more time arguing?"
Though he felt little general confidence in himself, Mark strongly believed his was the wiser path this time. "No, I really think we should go to Kulten first. Kyle, I know you're angry, but for us to walk straight into his hands without any foresight is probably just what the Duke would want."
Kyle shrugged. "You're the one who asked me what I thought. To be honest I can see the case for both sides, and only spoke from my heart. But as it is your parents who are involved, I will accept whatever you choose." He looked at Ann. "Would you not agree this should be his choice to make?"
"Fine, let's go to Kulten," said Ann. "Maybe your father will have some decent advice on how best to take down the Duke."
"I hope so. As for you, Clint, I'd appreciate it if you could dig up any more information on the Duke in case we need it—and maybe spreading some misinformation about where we've gone would help, too."
"That sounds like a plan. All right, little brother. I'll wish you luck in your battle." He hugged Mark. "Come back safe."
"Wait. I was talking to Ann last night, and we were wondering, who is the Duke of Arrith?"
"I've seen him a few times, but we're not friends. Aside from his long list of accomplishments, though, there's one thing about him that stands out in my mind. He has an adopted son, like father with you."
Mark frowned. "An adopted son? That doesn't sound like it would have much to do with anything."
"I suppose not, but I thought it was interesting."
"The main thing to worry about there," Ann said with a nasty look, "is his son coming for revenge after we kill him."
Chapter 11
They were back on the road within the day, and if he took the time to inspect his feet Mark expec
ted to find them a lot more callused than before. To what exact destination did they head? Even if he had convinced his friends not to seek immediate retribution against the Duke, things seemed to be moving way too fast for him. How he wished he could return to normal life, boring as it had been!
His thoughts turned to last night's experience with Ann. He'd had no time to process the significance of their act, and only now pondered the long-term ramifications of it. What would Ann expect from him? Slut though she supposedly was, her father and brother had implied she sought a deeper relationship with him.
It had been his first time with a woman, yet he did not love her—or, at least, was not aware if he did. Would love grow between them now, or would new awkwardness drive them apart?
"You look uncomfortably conflicted," she soon said while walking. "Are you thinking about what happened between us yesterday?"
"Yes."
"I figured as much. You needn't worry so much about it. Come on, you've been silent all morning. Aren't we still friends?"
"Of course we are, but are we something more? I don't know, Ann, I'm just confused!"
"I have plenty of regular friends I've slept with. As for whether we're something more, I haven't decided." She smiled. "So how's it like in Kulten? Do you know what attractions there are, in case we have to stay there a little while?"
Until they figured it out, it would probably be best to continue being friends. "I've been there before, but couldn't find time for much local entertainment. They do have a sport you might find interesting, called downhill cart racing..."
And thus, Mark discovered that their easygoing friendship could indeed survive lovemaking.
The road inland led them across flat fields sparsely dotted with trees, which reminded Mark why Kulten suited being connected to Julpy more than Arrith. Not only was it closer, but it would also be easier to build a canal through these lands than the forested hills separating Julpy and Arrith. However, reason rarely made an effective deterrent to greed.
He wondered too what was holding up the talks between Owen and the Duke of Kulten. Some disagreement over the division of expenditures, most likely. Widalian nobles tended to let minor details get in the way of important dealings, with his father being a rare exception to that trend of inefficient bickering. Could things have been the same in Brianna's youth, when the Widalians had managed to throw off the yoke of the powerful Vorhen? Then again, it was probably not the nobles who had done most of the work there.