Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.
On the Road Again
By now, the caravan was ready to go. Myrthe got up in the back of the rearmost wagon again. Ala decided to ride Fulgor for a while, just to warm him up and give him some exercise. He seemed refreshed after a good night’s rest and enough food. Myrthe pulled a small book from her pack and sat down to read. Ala rode Fulgor around a bit, ranging ahead and behind the caravan, and slowing down to ride next to the lead wagon for a while. The caravan master spoke to her.
“Oi, I heard what happened last night. I hadn’t realised you were an elf. I’m not much partial to elves, so I probably wouldn’t have taken you on had I noticed. I’ll honour our agreement of course, as I don’t want trouble with my guild. A deal once made must be seen through. It is a Master’s duty. Just stay out of the way and try not to cause any more problems.”
Ala sighed. A little prejudice at the start of the day was always nice. She just rooled her eyes and ignored him.
Other than the Caravan Master’s prejudices, which led to some of his staff becoming rather unpleasant too, the journey passed fairly quietly for a few days. She was talking to Myrthe again, which was how she was spending a lot of her time.
“I wonder what happened to Abe and the fourth rider,” Ala said.
“A good question. What do you think? Did they give up?”
“I doubt it. I would think they’re in too deep. What would the two of them tell the Constable when they returned?”
“They could say they couldn’t find you. The Constable wouldn’t need to know they only made one attempt.”
“I can’t imagine that man letting the two of them off so easily. If he was worried about the consequences of all this, I think he’d give them a reason to worry too. What do you think happens after I tell the Duke about all this?”
“I don’t see that he’ll really have a choice. Aside from the matter with your uncle’s will, it seems clear that the leadership of his militia in Thetwick is not in good hands. With that, the integrity of his borders is cast into doubt too. He will have to set things right.”
“You think he’ll actually do that?”
“He can’t have his authority compromised like that without running the risk that other ambitious people in the Duchy start getting ideas. If he lets it run wild, he could lose control of the Westmarch. It could even undermine his authority elsewhere in Taladaria. The King might even question his loyalty.”
“I don’t know. The Duke has never seemed terribly interested in Thetwick.”
“Bernard was good at his job as militia Captain, or so I’ve gathered from what you’ve told me?”
“Very good, I think.”
“Well, then Thetwick was in capable hands. Now, it isn’t any more. With what you’ve told me, isn’t that a fair summary?”
“It is I suppose.”
“Well, the Duke must be seen to act. I don’t think it’s important enough for him to go himself, but he will send someone he trusts. It’s part of the way nobles exercise their power, like they’re saying, ‘oh, by the way, I noticed you weren’t behaving like I told you to, but you’re so insignificant that I’ve just sent this lowly underling to execute you and confiscate all your families belongings,’ I bet he tells you to go with whoever he sends, as you’re such a central player in all of it.”
Ala frowned. “You think he’ll turn me right around and send me to Thetwick?”
“I expect so. It’s how my father would do things, I think. Also, if Bernard was the militia Captain, I expect the Duke will want to replace him with a loyal man, especially if there isn’t a known loyal military commander in Thetwick right now.”
“There was never a militia Captain before Bernard, you know?”
“But he arrived what, four decades ago? I guess that might not seem very long to you, but a lot of people will not ever have known it any different. Wasn’t it instituted by the previous Duke? It’s standard practice for border towns nowadays.”
“It was. Ivan the Second. He died a few years after Bernard arrived, in 948, I think.”
“I really don’t think the Duke is uninterested in the goings on in the Westmarch. I think it’s more likely that your Uncle Bernard simply had things well enough under control. Now, the Duke is going to have reestablish his authority.”
“He could have sent someone sooner.”
“No one said nobles are always as prompt as they ought to be, unfortunately. A Duke tends to have a lot on his plate and what seems most pressing tends to take precedence.”
Ala had had a vague hope that the matter could be handled just by giving evidence in the Duke’s court. She would only have had to send a letter to Harald to take care of things for her and she would be free to move on. Myrthe had a point though. It wasn’t likely to play out that way.
“Well, I think Travis Marchmain would take everyone he could down with him. Abe and the fourth rider are in danger. Even if I don’t know who the fourth rider is, Travis does. He would probably take them all down, though he might try and protect his son I suppose, the way his father protected Gordon.”
“If they didn’t go back, they would have to stay ahead of us. That isn’t hard at this caravan’s pace. We could ask for a person fitting Abe’s description in the inns and farmsteads we camp at…” said Myrthe, “not that it will do much other than confirm they’ve been there. Might find out how far ahead they are, I suppose.”
Ala tried to imagine how the Constable or his son might react. It was difficult. When Bernard was alive, they had always had to keep a low profile and hide whatever they were up to well. They had turned appearing legitimate into an art form.
Ala spoke again, mostly thinking out loud, “I don’t think they’ll try and ambush us again. That went wrong when they were with the four of them and now they know I’m not alone. Perhaps Travis might send some more men to Peyrepertuse as insurance.”
“You think he’d do that?”
“I imagine so. I would, were I him. Might take some time though and he probably has some unpleasantness he wants to do in Thetwick too. He doesn’t have unlimited manpower.”
“So they’ll come… eventually, is that a good guess? What do you think Abe and his companion will do in the meantime?”
“I suppose they might try an attack with a crossbow or something, but I don’t recall either of them being a very good shot. They’d have to get very close and have to be very lucky to achieve more than annoying me. Almost more dangerous to people near me who don’t have armour…”
Realisation hit Ala and she looked at Myrthe, shocked, “I’m so sorry, I’ve really put you in danger, haven’t I?”
Myrthe gave one of her smiles, the kind that made you think she knew something that you didn’t.
“Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling you’re one of those ‘Cries of the World’ I’m meant to be listening to. I’m going to follow you around for a bit, if you’ll have me. Besides, you said you’d protect me.”
Ala was very happy with that. She felt like she had a friend, an equal for the first time ever, she’d suddenly been scared that she’d messed it up.
“I’d like that very much. I’ll try to keep you safe,” she said.
“If I wanted to be safe, I wouldn’t have gotten ordained.”
“I don’t understand?”
“The Sojourn is only for Priestesses and Priests. If I had stayed a nun, I could have stayed safe at Doncastle as long as I wanted. My family is powerful enough that I would have been given something important to do anyway.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. You wanted to go on this trip?”
“Very much so. Anyway, back to Abe and his friend. Say they ride on to Peyrepertuse and put a contract on you with the thieves’ guild, then what?”
“I suppose they would have to wait around for confirmation of the guild’s success.”
Myrthe smiled a little.
“There is no honour among thieves they say. Maybe we should interfere, just a little? That should be interesting.”
“Interesting? Messing with assassins is interesting?”
Myrthe had a strange gleam in her eye that seemed discordant with the warm and compassionate priestess that Ala knew.
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