Chapter 13: Family, Responsibility, and Voyage
Wednesday Update, baby! And its' Early!! That catches me up. Woohoo!
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The Lady’s eyes stretched wide in suspicion as they danced from Magnus to Tobias. Motega glanced at the woman, his face devoid of attention and turned his glance to the paladin. Tobias’ head shook, a small shake recognizable only to the party: No evil. Motega gave the appearance of relaxing his guard as he slouched back in the chair a bit; contrary to his appearance, his eyes showed his overly alert nature.
Fitz sighed.
Ceria? Have I offended you?, he questioned silently.
I am forced to work with an angel-worshipper, a werewolf and a power-greedy mage. Let them never say you do not work in mysterious ways. The priest watched as a serving woman removed his empty tankard, replacing it with a fresh mug. He picked up the mug and with a quick murmur of, “Praise Ceria,” began to drown his confusion.
The Lady smiled, worriedly, to cover her confusion. The appearance of the Heroes was not as she had expected, with the exception of the armor clad man. His armor was bright and polished, as if it were used for courtly duties and not the tales that had spread so far north…
"Sirs, I am Lady Carnelloe,” she began again with her rich, sultry voice, “and I have heard of your exploits. It appears you have engaged in some rather...
interesting...activity here, as well. I seek your assistance, and I shall pay you handsomely for your services should you agree.” Her eyes quickly caught the flash of smile in the boy that had spoken to her first. The man behind him, Tobias obviously, grimaced a bit as his eyes darkened.
She coughed, lowering her voice. "I would prefer to speak in private, as the matter I must discuss is personal." With a suspicious glare at the villagers she added, "Perhaps you have a private room in this…place?"
Lady Carnelloe turned to the brutes standing behind her and nodded. The two larger men broke off from their flanking positions. They moved slowly toward the bar, to order food and drink. The few villagers in the way were quick to part. The Gordian in the panther cloak stepped up beside her.
"Forgive me, this man," she gestured to the Gordian, "He is Mikal of the Grove. He is a subject of my husband and an advisor to us both. I would have him offer his insight to our discussion, if you are willing."
[1]
Tobias placed a hand on Magnus’ shoulder, indicating the mage should sit as he did the same. “We are always willing to hear someone out,” the paladin claimed.
“Are you sure we cannot go somewhere more discreet?”
“These people,” Tobias stated, pointing to the crowd, “Are our people. They mean you no threat and the vacancies of this inn are for their benefit, not ours. We can speak here.”
Carnelloe’s lip quivered but she had Mikal move an extra chair to the table. She sat, on edge, and allowed the Gordian to stand just behind and to the right. “My husband owns an estate up Raider’s Bay. Many years ago, during the Civil War, my husband’s ancestors did not throw their lot in with Rhelm.” The mage grimaced, she noticed.
“At least, not fast enough to make any of the rebels happy. Since, we have been shunned—even by the King. I am searching for outside aid…and I came first to Minetown because the Baronet is a distance cousin. It was when we docked in Victorsburg that we heard tale of ‘The Heroes of Marchford’. So, now, I beg you for your aide.”
“Tell us what the problem is already,” Fitz slurred.
“I’ll pay you handsomely…”
“The problem already,” Tobias interrupted.
Mikal grimaced, his hand tightening on the back of the chair. She patted his hand. “We own an old keep atop a rocky promontory, just off the coast of the fiefdom. Harpies have taken to nesting in the keep. Every now and then, they’ll come inland to steal chickens, a goat or two, and occasionally even a shepherd.
“It is not so bad, usually, except my husband decided to play the hero and relive his ‘adventuring days’. With a band of his most loyal and old retainers, he set off to cleanse the foul keep of the harpies. He hasn’t returned,” Lady Carnelloe sniffled, lifting a handkerchief to blot her eyes.
“Then…two weeks ago, I was visited by a hooded figure. They said if I did not produce a key for my husband’s lockbox, my two daughters would be murdered. I’ve been given one month.” The Lady burst solidly into tears, covering her eyes. Mikal grimaced yet again.
Motega’s scrutinizing glare did not relent; neither did the Carnelloe’s tears for several minutes.
“I know my husband is probably dead. He carried the key with him at all times…”
“How long ago did your husband depart?” Magnus queried.
“Several months ago. Look, I am willing to go into debt to save the life of my children. I
really, really need your help. No one else will help. The King will not and my husband’s former soldiers will not. The Baronet was my last chance, but he will not even see us.
“I have a galley moored to the docks. We will be leaving in the morning. If you can help, the fee is negotiable. Otherwise I will have to search other towns along the coast…”
“Look,” Motega butted in. “Lady, I do not speak for our ka-tet, but we have pledged service to the Rhelm king,” Motega eyed Magnus hard, "I do not know how that affects us aiding you and I am not in the practice of sh*tting where I eat. If we agree to your terms, we will be at the docks before you set sail. Leave us now as we have other matters to discuss."
The Lady’s jaw dropped. Mikal’s arm rose until Carnelloe’s long fingers wrapped around his arm, delaying the attack. “No, Mikal, perhaps they are not the Heroes we have heard of. Maybe they are though.” Turning to the group, she spoke, “I hope you will consider my proposal. The ship is the ‘Vigilance’.”
Lady Carnelloe stood. With a nod, the other two Gordians detached themselves from the bar and their six empty tankards. They moved to the door, allowing the Lady to step through that door first, and into the lengthening morning.
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[1] - Destan's exact words at this point:
...incidentally, i hope you guys are ready to play the hero. Word is spreading, and there'll probably no shortage of people down on
their luck who comes to you begging for assistance. muwuahahaha
