Bacorium Legacy

  Chapter XVII

  Scaramouche

  On the horizon, they finally saw the rising form of the city of T'Saw.

  Out across the long, barren Markira Fields, the great and majestic city of T'Saw was carved into the side of a mountain. The mountain was alone, surrounded by kilometres of empty fields on all sides.

  It took them a whole hour to cross the Markira Fields, travelling down the highway with other travellers before and behind them. Selphie kept her hood drawn as they walked; she did not want her people to yet know she was back. Eventually, they reached the great marble steps that led up the mountain to the gates of the city. After so many weeks of travel, making their way up all those steps was tiring. But those steps were essential to the city's defence; no army could cross that giant open field and then make it up the steps of the city. No more than three men could walk abreast up the marble steps, and carrying a battering ram up like that was all but impossible. T'Saw's defences were impregnable, and the city had never fallen.

  At the top of the steps, before the massive, ornately carved iron gates, a group of guards waited to question them on their business in the city, like all the other people who entered the city. It took them no less than a few seconds to recognise Jared, and Selphie beneath her hood. They let them inside without another word.

  T'Saw was the largest city in the known world, and as they stepped inside, the four in their group who had never been there were greeted by its wondrous sights for the first time. The buildings were tall, carved from the stone of the mountain. The market was bustling, the sounds of hawkers and shoppers and laughing children filling the air. And in the distance, at the top of the mountain, the Ivory Palace stood over the city like a beacon.

  "That's where we're going," Selphie said to them. "My father is waiting for us."

  "He already knows we're here?" Brand asked her quietly.

  He shook her head. "No, but he will know before we get there. I'm sure a messenger is already on his way."

  They made their way down the main road towards the palace. As they walked, Luca took note of Emila's odd expression. She had told him several times that she had lived in T'Saw for a short while, and as she looked around at the sights, there was a clear look of nostalgia in her eyes. They passed a rather large inn, and Emila looked up at it wistfully.

  "What is it?" he asked her.

  "N-nothing," she said quickly. "I used to stay there, was all."

  "We can get a room there after we're done at the palace," he suggested. Seeing her blush, he added. "To stay the night, that is."

  "I'm sure the king will let us stay at the palace."

  "After Serenite, I don't think I'll be staying in a palace again any time soon," Luca muttered sardonically.

  Emila thought about that. "I see. We can stay at an inn if you like, but I would prefer a different one."

  "Why?"

  She frowned, looking uncomfortable. "Well... I used to work there. It would be a little weird if I stayed there. The innkeeper could remember me."

  Luca wasn't sure why that would be so awkward for her, but he respected her feelings. They would find a different place to stay the night.

  A large number of people were ahead, Luca noticed. They were gathered around a bearded man in a white robe who stood atop a wooden crate. As they drew close, he could make out the man's words.

  "And what does the king do? Nothing! He sits in his palace and ignores the plight of his people! Zaow has grown old and fearful of the Acarians! Do you not remember the days when Zaow would take his sword and lead the charge into battle?"

  Several of the bystanders muttered in agreement.

  "The king of Sono has lost the fire that made this nation great!"

  "You tell them, Jorus!" someone in the crowd shouted.

  This man continued, "Zaow preaches a peace than cannot be! Because Zinoro will not rest until Sono is ashes, and he is the only man left alive! He is filled with the dark powers of Ekkei, and the vengeful fury that Acarians hold sacred! He has already taken his dark army to several villages and destroyed them! And now Allma Temple has fallen! It will not be long before he attacks T'Saw as well!"

  "The walls of T'Saw have never fallen!" shouted one of the bystanders.

  "Is that right?" Jorus asked him. "Well before Zinoro attacked them, the same was said of Allma Temple! And now it is nought but ash and dust. The temple was destroyed, and the elite fighters who trained there are all wiped out! What makes you think this city is better protected? Allma the Third was a man of war! Zaow is a peace-preaching old fool!"

  Jared wore an ugly scowl. His hand was on the shaft of his halberd, ready to draw it from its sheath on his back. Beside him, Selphie's eyes were hard beneath her hood.

  "Zaow is no longer fit to rule this great nation!" Jorus continued, several of the bystanders nodding or muttering in agreement. "His inaction will be our destruction!"

  "That's quite enough." They turned to find a man in the armour of the captain of the guard approaching, flanked on each side by a spear-carrying guards. The guards approached Jorus. "Continue this disruption and we'll have to arrest you."

  "You seek to silence my protests?" Jorus exclaimed, directing his words more at the bystanders than the guards. "Has the king sent you? He'll act against his own people, but he'll stand idly by while Zinoro prepares to annihilate us!"

  "I'm warning you," said the captain. "Continue this nonsense and you'll spend the night in the palace dungeons."

  The guards held their spears at the ready, waiting for the captain's command. The captain stood there before Jorus, not in the slightest intimidated by the man's efforts to turn the crowd against him. Several of Jorus' listeners had already quietly slipped off, and those remaining were backing away and watching things carefully. Jorus himself, realising that there was no sense in continuing this, was hesitating.

  "Just keep on blindly following orders, fools," Jorus said to the guards. "You'll be the first to die when the revolution comes." He jumped down from his crate and ran off somewhere.

  Jared stared after him for a moment, then shook his head. He stepped towards the captain, and called out, "Captain Gareth!"

  The captain, who had started back in the direction of the palace, turned at the beckoning, and saw them. His bearded face broke out in a grin. "Jared!"

  The two of them ran to each other and met in a big bear-hug. "It's good to see you again, friend," said the captain. "I'm relieved you've made it back safely."

  Selphie stepped beside them. "Gareth."

  "Princess," he said with a nod. "I'm very glad to see you, as well. Your father has been eager for your return. Let's get you back to the palace. Are these other folks your companions?"

  Selphie turned, acknowledging Luca, Emila, Wiosna, Brand, and Ash. "They are. These are the recruits my father sent me to Allma Temple to bring back. I would not have made it back alive were it not for them."

  "We've heard about the temple," Gareth said. "Everyone in the city has by now, it seems. It's a tragedy, and one that could not have come at a worse time. The citizens are growing restless. People like this guy," he kicked at the crate, "are speaking out against His Majesty and making things all the worse. Zinoro has had them worried for a while, but Allma Temple was frightening for everyone."

  "I cannot blame them," Selphie said. "The Acarians have turned out to be more dangerous than we anticipated. I have a lot to tell my father. Can we go see him now?"

  Gareth frowned. He turned to the two guards with him. "Return to the palace. I'll escort the princess back." When they hesitated, he added, "She's got me and the six members of her entourage. She'll be plenty safe. Get back and let the prince know she's on her way."

  Selphie's eyes went wide with worried interest at that. As the two guards ran off in the direction of the palace, she drew closer to Gareth. "Why are you sending them to my brother? Is my father alright?"

  "He's fine, but..." Gareth hesitated. "You should hear it from the prince."

&
nbsp; Selphie looked worried now. Gareth took them through the streets now, and as they walked Jared put his hand on Selphie's shoulder to comfort her. Luca watched them, noticing the odd looks Gareth gave them. The captain saw how close they were, but he said nothing.

  They ascended the steps to the Ivory Palace, and Luca saw there was a man at the top waiting for them. He was a slightly hunched man with a thick moustache and slightly balded brow. His clothes were fine and quite expensive looking. His face broke out in an excited grin as he saw who it was approaching them.

  "Is that the p-princess I see under that hood?" he asked, his voice shaky and thin.

  Selphie smiled, though her eyes were still full of worry. "Yes, I've returned." She turned to address Luca and the others. "Everyone, this is a dear friend of the royal family, Lord Balzac."

  A stifled giggle came from Brand, who did everything he could to hide it.

  "P-princess, I am so g-glad to see you back, safe and sound," Balzac told her. "We've all been so w-worried for you."

  "I've sent letters," Selphie reminded him.

  "Yes, b-but what if the letters stopped?" Balzac said. "W-with all those Acarians out there, how could we b-be sure you were okay? B-but you're home now, and that's all that matters. P-please, come inside."

  Balzac stepped aside to allow them in, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Inside the Ivory Palace, the floor was smooth marble and the walls were high, with large stained glass windows. Within the colours of the windows were depictions of Sonoian kings of the past. At the far end of the hall was the throne of Sono. It was empty.

  The sound of footsteps filled the halls. A young man with curly blond hair, a handsome face, and fine clothes approached them.

  "Brother," Selphie said excitedly, pulling back her hood.

  "Selphie," Prince Trist said to her. "Welcome home."

  The two siblings embraced.

  Once they pulled away, Trist looked over her companions. "You only have Jared with you. What happened to the others who were sent?"

  "They were killed at Allma Temple," Selphie said sadly. "I'll tell you and father everything, but only after I see him."

  "I see," Trist said. He looked to the captain. "Gareth, could you go let my father know that Selphie is back?"

  "At once, my prince," Gareth said, leaving for the king's chambers.

  Selphie frowned, glancing at the empty throne. "Is he alright? These are usually the hours for audiences."

  "He needs his rest," Trist told her. "His health has been... declining lately."

  Selphie's face was pale. "His health? Will he be alright? How bad is it?"

  "Not terrible, P-princess," Balzac told her, moving to their side. "It is fortunate that we caught it as soon as we did. W-with the p-proper medicine, he should recover. B-but one must remember that the king is growing old, and that he will not live forever. Therefore, P-prince Trist has b-been p-preparing for the throne."

  "I have been the acting king since Father fell ill," Trist told her. "It happened shortly after you left. His condition differs from day-to-day. One day, he might spend the whole day in bed. Those are the bad days. On a good day, he'll usually be up and moving around for a few hours."

  "And today?" Selphie asked, looking like she feared the answer.

  "We'll see," Trist said, glancing away. "He hadn't been up yet. The thing is... Father's health is the least of our problems. A few days ago, we received a summon. Marcus and Edmund are demanding Father's presence at the Elder Hall to discuss war with Acaria."

  Selphie bowed her head and sighed. "I expected as much. I had hoped Marcus was speaking only in anger, and that time would calm him down and he might rethink things. But I doubted it could be that easy."

  "There are rumours," Trist said. "They say that an Acarian man infiltrated the palace at Serenite and was working with the second-born prince to overthrow Marcus and seize control of Saeticia."

  "That's close enough to what happened," Selphie said. "We were there. The Acarian was one of Zinoro's acolytes."

  Trist's eyes grew wide, and Balzac gaped.

  At that moment, Gareth returned. "His Majesty is awake and waiting for you all in the meeting room," he told them.

  "Let's not keep him waiting," Trist said, starting off. They followed him.

  Luca noticed the worry in Selphie's eyes as they walked. She was concerned for her father's health. After travelling so far to get to T'Saw, she had returned to find that not only was her father terribly ill, but that he had been summoned by the other kings. Considering his health, he would likely not be able to make the journey. Selphie or Trist could certainly be sent in his place, but that would reflect badly on Sono in the negotiations. Even if they told the truth about Zaow's health, it could look like an excuse of cowardice to the other kings. But that all depended on how bad Zaow's condition was.

  Gareth pushed open the double doors for them, and the large group stepped into the meeting room. It was a spacious room, with a large table in the centre and a lit fireplace. Sitting across from them at the head of the table was King Zaow.

  The king was seventy-eight years of age, and he looked it. His beard was long and full of grey, as was the hair on his head. He looked thin and haggard, and his breaths were heavy and slow. His clothes and golden crowd looked heavy on him.

  Luca saw the betraying look of shock on Selphie's face, though she quickly covered it up with a smile.

  "Father!" she said, running to his side and kissing his cheek. "I've missed you so much."

  "I've missed you as well, my dear," Zaow said with a smile. His voice was tired. "I've read all your letters. I was greatly worried for you. But alas, we have so much to discuss." He looked up at the others. "Balzac and the captain may leave us. The rest of you can find seats."

  Gareth nodded and stepped past Luca and the others. Balzac followed him, looking for a moment like he wanted to argue. Gareth pulled the door closed behind them.

  Trist walked over and joined Selphie at their father's side. He asked quietly, "Are you feeling up to this, Father?"

  Zaow shook his head. "This is far too important for that."

  Trist and Selphie sat on either side of Zaow, and the others all found seats across from them. The king looked over them all, his eyes lingering over Luca and Ash for a bit longer than the others.

  First, he spoke to Jared. "You've done your duty well. Thank you for protecting my daughter, Jared."

  Jared bowed his head slightly, unable to meet the king's gaze. "It was my duty."

  "Rarely do our duty and our heart's desire lie on the same path," Zaow said to him. "I know how difficult it was for you to take this mission in the first place. But you have done well. You brought your princess back safely. I hope that you can continue to protect her, and serve the kingdom well."

  Luca looked to Jared, a bit confused by the king's words. What was difficult about protecting Selphie, he wondered. But Jared's stoic face told no tales.

  "Selphie," Zaow said to his daughter. "Tell me everything that has happened on your travels. Spare no details."

  Selphie then did exactly that. She started with Allma Temple, telling him about her arrival, and the meeting between her and the recruits. Then she told him about the surprise attack by the Acarians, and then of Allma's betrayal. She told him their theory; that Allma's intention had been to kill her and pin the blame on the Acarians, thus starting a war. Zaow's expression grew dark at this part. His daughter's life had been in danger, all because of a man he had once trusted. The men Allma had sent had aided Sono greatly in the first war with Acaria. Allma the third had been an honourable man then. Zaow had thought Selphie would be safe in his charge, but he had been completely wrong.

  She then told Zaow about their escape from the temple, and the subsequent capture in Kasma. She told him of how Wiosna had led the Allma survivors back and rescued them. Zaow asked Wiosna several questions about this, and then thanked her for her help.

  Next, Selphie told him of the event
s in Serenite, and how Trunda had gone after Emila, whom he seemed to mistake for herself. In reality, he had known all along that Emila was not the princess, and he was simply betraying Gera in order to turn Marcus against the Acarians.

  Next came the story of the events in Reven, of how Trunda had tracked them down and attacked them once more. Selphie concluded her story with his death in the inn.

  "You've slain two of Zinoro's acolytes now," Zaow mused. "I doubt he has taken kindly to that."

  "Trunda spoke of Dreevius with little respect, but I would imagine that Zinoro valued Trunda more." Selphie said with a frown. "I have little hope for our backup plan at this point."

  Zaow thought about that for a moment, stroking his grey beard, and glancing at Jared. "Indeed. Doubtless, Zinoro and his men have torn my letter to pieces and laughed at my proposition of peace. But that was the backup plan because the chances of its success were slim to begin with."

  Zaow coughed for a moment, before continuing. "Allma and Marcus both were manipulated by Zinoro. He put his men in place and had them carry out their orders, with the appearance of a simple plan: to capture you, the princess of Sono. The truth was that his intention was to simply play on their emotions, getting from them what he wanted. From Allma, he wanted the temple destroyed. Allma Temple's men turned the tide of his father's war, and he was well aware of that. Thus, he eliminated them first. And he got that by playing on Allma's overconfidence. Had Allma led his men more carefully, the temple may very well still stand.

  "As for Marcus, the man is nearly as cautious as I am. But Marcus cares for his family. Zinoro struck him right in his heart."

  "But why?" Trist asked. "Why do all this if Zinoro wants war? Why not simply declare it?"

  Zaow stroked his beard, thinking. "The answer is simple, if you think about it. Manorith's war failed because it was fought here, in Sono. Even without the help of Allma Temple, we would have almost certainly won. The few hundred men Allma sent turned the tide of the last battle, and the arrival of the dragonrider was their death sentence.

  "Zinoro is a far greater tactician than his father was. He knows the only chance he could have to win a battle with any of the kingdoms of the Alliance is if that battle were fought on his own land. An army marching into Acaria would be at a disadvantage, just as one marching out of it would also be. So the reason Zinoro does all this is because he wants us to invade him; and not the other way around."

  "But surely he understands how the Alliance works," Trist said. "If he hopes to have Sono invade him, he is a fool. In the two-hundred years that this nation has existed we have never invaded another land."

  "One-hundred and ninety-two, my son," Zaow corrected. "And that is not entirely correct. In my grandfather's time, the Alliance declared war against the kingdom of Freidu. Sono fought in that war, alongside Saeticia and Torachi."

  "Freidu is nothing but ruins now, even after all these years," Selphie added. "They were annihilated."

  "And Zinoro will meet the same end, if it does come to war," Trist said. "Acaria was almost wiped out in the previous war. Their numbers were down after that plague, and the men they could muster up were slaughtered when they attacked Sono. Zinoro could not have possibly raised an army large enough to handle the entire Alliance, not after only twenty years."

  Zaow looked to his son with disappointed eyes. "Just because we can defeat them, doesn't mean we should."

  "Zinoro is a monster," Trist said.

  "Not every Acarian is Zinoro."

  Trist grew quiet, retreating into his seat sullenly.

  Zaow sighed, the breath far heavier than one of mere fatigue. He looked to Luca and the others, looking over them once more. He said to Selphie, "Not counting Jared, you have brought five others with you from Allma. My instructions were to bring three students with the skills requested."

  "The students you asked for are here," Selphie told him. "Brand, Wiosna, and Luca were the best fighters the temple had to offer, though Luca was not technically a true student. The other two, Ash and Emila, are Luca's companions. Ash helped us escape from Dreevius, by telling Wiosna and the Allman survivors where we were. And Emila is an experienced healer; better than I am, in fact. The seven of us have proven to be quite effective as a team."

  Brand grinned.

  Zaow turned his attention back to Luca and Ash, and said to them, "You two are related?"

  "We are," Luca replied. "He is my brother. We are Lodin's sons."

  Zaow's eyes grew wide. "Yes, you are..." he said after a moment. "How could I forget that hair? As white as snow... I haven't heard from Lodin since some time after the war."

  "He is dead," Luca told the king. "Killed by Zinoro."

  Zaow drew in a sharp breath. His eyes narrowed, no longer looking tired anymore, and looked away from Luca. "This changes things, then. You were present when this happened?"

  "I was," Luca said. "I watched it happen with my own eyes."

  Zaow turned back to Selphie. "You did not tell me that Lodin's sons were in your company."

  "I found out that Ash - the younger son - was at the temple on my way there," Selphie explained a bit nervously. "And when I arrived, I learnt that Luca was there as well. I intended to take only Luca with me, because I thought that his family history might be of use to our cause."

  Zaow looked almost angry with her now. "And how do you think things would have worked out if he had been there when you went before Zinoro? Everything could have fallen apart the moment Zinoro saw him."

  "Father, I doubt it really mattered. As you said, it was the backup plan because it had little chance of working to begin with."

  Luca was curious now as to what this backup plan was. He looked around to Selphie, and then to Jared, but neither of them met his gaze.

  Zaow turned his attention back to Luca. "Tell me of Zinoro."

  "He wore black armour," Luca said. "He was missing an eye, and the other was a glowing red. His sword was a Rixeor Fragment, and the blade was wrapped in a black fire when he drew it."

  "What did he say to your father?"

  "Not much. My father refused to fight him, and that angered Zinoro. My father told Zinoro that if he wanted to kill him, he would have to do so in cold blood."

  Zaow frowned. "And I suppose you know why Zinoro wanted your father dead."

  "Because my father was the one who killed Manorith. And not you, as most people believe."

  Brand and Wiosna looked to Luca nervously. They knew this, as well - he had made no secret of it - but they seemed surprised that he had brought it up so brazenly. On the other side of the table, Selphie was biting her lip. Trist was looking at him with barely-hidden irritation. Ash was as quiet as he always was.

  King Zaow watched him for a moment, then smiled. "Indeed. Publicly, it was I who took credit for the killing of Manorith. But it is indeed the truth that your father was the one who did it."

  The king sighed again, his eyes growing heavy as they remembered years gone by. "I met him, some time after it had happened. Nobody yet knew, only the men in his team. He had Manorith's armour with him - with the exception of his sword, which was lost - in a chest. We went to my tent, where we drank and spoke long into the night. He was the one who suggested that I take credit for ending the war. I'd wanted to make a knight of him; the first knight of T'Saw in so many years. But... he told me that he had no desire to be a hero; he only wanted to go live a quiet life with his sweetheart who waited for him in a quiet village. He was a good man, your father. It saddens me that he is no longer with us."

  Zaow paused for a moment, then he asked Luca, "What are you here for, son of Lodin?"

  Luca blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "Your father clearly meant a lot to you," Zaow said. "But we are not here planning vengeance. If it is revenge you desire, you have come to the wrong place. We are trying to prevent a war, not start one. When I look in your eyes, I see someone who is after blood. So I am asking why you are here."

  He sees right through me,
Luca thought.

  "Indeed, I cared very much for my father," Luca said. "That is why I am here. Too many people have died already, and the war hasn't even started. I'm fighting for peace because I know the rage of grief. But I'm not letting that control me. We cannot be slaves of our pasts; we must look to the future, and make the sacrifices necessary that it is a better world we leave behind."

  Zaow thought for a moment, and then he nodded approvingly. He glanced over at Selphie, and then at Trist, and furrowed his brow, stroking his beard deeply in thought.

  Luca was then aware of Emila's eyes on him. He turned his head and saw her beside him, smiling happily. She looked proud of him, and relieved. He felt sick in the stomach.

  Because it was a lie.

  "What you have told me has given me a lot to think about," Zaow said to Selphie. "The summon of the other kings cannot be ignored, but it is possible that I might be able to persuade them against this war."

  "You're actually going?" Selphie exclaimed. "But your health...!"

  "My health is irrelevant," Zaow told her sternly. "The summon cannot be ignored. I will be setting out for the Elder Hall in a few days. I will have you all join me there, to share your stories with the other kings. We cannot yet give up on our mission. War can still be prevented. For now however, I have grown weary. I will retire for the night. We will speak more of this in the morning."

  Zaow rose from his seat, and when he stood up, he gripped a walking cane that had been hidden until then under the table. When Selphie saw it, her expression told Luca that Zaow had not been using it when she had last seen him.

  "You are all welcome to stay here in the palace," Zaow said to them. "I'm sure Balzac can arrange rooms for you."

  Brand giggled again, earning a confused stare from both Zaow and Trist. Selphie all but glared at him, and he coughed awkwardly and bowed his head.

  "Well, I will retire now." As he left the room, Zaow took one last long look at his daughter, looking like there was something else he had to say. But he was silent as he closed the door behind him.

  Once he was gone, everyone rose from the table. Prince Trist was the first to leave, brushing past Luca and giving him a dirty look as he left.

  "It seems your brother doesn't think much of me," Luca said to Selphie once the prince was gone.

  "That would be your fault, Luca," she said to him. He blinked, surprised to hear her say that. "You haven't been addressing my father or brother with the proper honorifics. I remember you did the same with Marcus, back in Serenite. I was going to say something earlier, but I forgot."

  "I... don't understand."

  "You should be calling King Zaow, 'Your Majesty'," Emila stepped up and told him. "And Prince Trist, 'Your Highness'. You should technically be calling Selphie the same, but she's our friend and she told us not to."

  "I don't use titles," Luca said defiantly. "I call someone by their name, no matter who they are."

  "In a kingdom like Torachi that could get you thrown in a prison cell," Selphie said. "My father is very forgiving man, but my brother has less patience than he does. Could you please just watch what you say around him?"

  "It doesn't matter. Emila and I are going to be staying in the city."

  "You are?" Selphie asked, looking to Emila, who nodded.

  "I used to live in T'Saw," Emila told her. "There are some places I would like to visit while I have the chance. Some people I would like to see again."

  "I see. That's fine," Selphie said. "What about the rest of you?"

  "I'm fine here," Brand said, who was still seated, his feet kicked up on the table.

  "Me, too," Wiosna said. She was leaning against the wall, looking away from Luca and Emila.

  "Very well," Selphie said. "What about you, Ash?"

  Ash was nowhere to be seen.

  "Typical," Selphie muttered. She turned back to Luca and Emila. "Well, just make sure you're back here tomorrow morning."

  "Of course," Luca assured her as they left.

  "Have fun, you two! Try to wait until you make it to your room at the inn" Brand called after them.

  Emila's face was red as they left the meeting room. Luca looked to her as they walked, and asked, "What is it?"

  "It is that obvious?" Emila asked.

  "I think they knew before we did."

  Emila bowed her head, not embarrassed, but morose. "It might not be real, though. Don't forget about the tether. It could be changing the way we feel."

  It could, he realised. He would know soon enough, when he left the city, and Emila stayed behind. Once they were separated, and the tether was broken, he would know for sure if his feelings were the truth or just an illusion.

  They passed Gareth the guard captain outside, who gave them a quick nod. Farther down the hall, they saw Balzac pacing back and forth impatiently, nearly tripping over himself yet again. He noticed them, and approached them.

  "Ah! P-princess Selphie's companions! I trust your meeting with the king w-went w-w-w-well?"

  "We worry for His Majesty's health," Emila told him.

  "As do w-we all," Balzac muttered sadly. "The summon of the other kings has us w-worried. How can the king make the journey to Saeticia in his condition?"

  "It seems he's going regardless," Luca said. "And we're going to go with him. He still has hope that the war with Acaria can be avoided."

  "And in that hope we will p-place our own," Balzac said as solemnly as one could with a stutter. "If there is anything I can do for you, p-please let me know."

  "Thank you, but the two of us will be in the city," Emila told him.

  "I see," Balzac said. "Well, p-please enjoy yourselves."

  Emila smiled, and they continued on their way, back out to the main hall, and back outside to the city. The sun was beginning to disappear under the horizon, and the activity in the city was likewise dying down. As Emila looked out at the streets, her eyes were filled with nostalgia.

  "I've reconsidered," she said to him. "Let's go back to that inn, the one I used to work at."

  "Are you sure?" he asked her.

  She nodded, and smiled. "Yeah, definitely. I want to see if the innkeeper I knew still works there."

  He wondered what had made her change her mind. She so rarely shared her thoughts with him; but then again, he shared his own with her even less often. He couldn't let doubts plague what little time they would have together. So he returned her smile, though there was a trace of pain hidden behind it.

  So they made their way down the marble steps and into the city streets, retracing their steps from earlier in the day. The streets were thin now, and they had little difficulty making their way back.

  As they walked, Luca saw a small group of men - around six or seven - huddled in an alley. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but one of the men might have been the Jorus figure who had been publicly speaking against Zaow earlier. The small group seemed to notice his staring, for they retreated further into the alley, and out of Luca's sight. He wasn't able to be sure if it was Jorus or not.

  "I lived here for almost two years," Emila said to him, drawing his attention away from the suspicious men. "The inn we're going to? I worked there as a barmaid."

  "I have a hard time picturing you in a place like that," Luca found himself saying. He'd spoken without thinking. Thankfully, Emila didn't seem to take it the wrong way.

  She laughed, and said, "All I ever did was serve drinks and food. There were two other girls who worked there at the time, and they would play music for the guests sometimes for extra gold, but I never did. I was never comfortable with that..."

  Luca frowned. No, he couldn't imagine Emila being comfortable with something like that at all. He could only imagine the lecherous way those girls must have been treated by the guests.

  "Here we are," Emila said excitedly.

  Having been lost in his thoughts, Luca looked up and found they were now standing at the front door of the three-storey inn. He saw a sign hanging above the door, which had a
painted picture of a anthropomorphic mug wearing a crown. Below that was the caption, The Tipsy Troglodyte.

  Emila took a deep breath. She said quietly to herself, "I can do this." And she opened the door and stepped inside.

  The inn was crowded. Almost all the tables were occupied by boisterous patrons and travellers, who drank from heavy mugs of frothing ale, or told stories to one another that drew up loud gales of laughter. Some music was playing from somewhere, but Luca couldn't see a bard.

  "It's busy..." Emila muttered. "Ah! I see him over at the bar. Let's go!" Before Luca could say anything, Emila took his hand and led him through the inn over to the bar.

  A large man with a thick moustache was there, polishing a mug with a rag. When he saw Emila approaching him, he raised an eyebrow.

  "Well, look who it is," he said. "Never thought I'd see you again."

  "Trent," Emila said, smiling. "It's good to see you again."

  "It's good to see you too, uh..."

  Her smile dropped. "You haven't forgotten my name, have you?"

  "Emma? Um... Emily? No..."

  Emila looked devastated. The innkeeper started to laugh.

  "I haven't forgotten your name, Emila," he reassured her. He stepped out from behind the bar, and gave Emila a big hug. "I've not seen you in what... six months? How have you been?"

  "I've been alright," Emila said. She beckoned to Luca. "This is Luca. I've been travelling with him since I left."

  "Well met," Trent said to him.

  "Uh... likewise," Luca muttered awkwardly.

  "So what are you doing back in T'Saw?" Trent asked Emila.

  "Just passing through, actually," she said. "I figured we would stay the night here, for old time's sake."

  "Of course," Trent said, heading back behind the bar and fishing around until he found a key. "Here. It's for room number six. Don't worry about paying. It's on me."

  "Are you sure?" Emila asked, as she took the key.

  "Absolutely. I owe you, girl. All those nights you slept up in the attic? You deserved better than that. So you and your friend can stay here tonight, free of charge."

  "Wow," Emila said. "Trent, thank you so much."

  Emila took a seat at the bar, and Trent got her a drink. The two started to talk, and Emila gave him a rough account of their adventure so far, leaving out any details that couldn't be shared. Luca stood nearby, not sure what to do with himself.

  After a few minutes of this, Luca was jostled by a large, bearded patron, who was making his way across the room. The man gave him a dirty look, and said, "Watch what you're doing, boy," but even as the words left his mouth, he discreetly put his hand into Luca's and took it away just as quickly. The man was gone before Luca could say anything, and he found that he was holding a smooth, unsealed envelope.

  Luca looked around, but nobody in the inn was looking at him. He waited a few moments, again making sure nobody was watching, before opening the envelope and reading the short letter it contained.

  Son of Lodin,

  I wish to speak with you. There is an abandoned house three blocks south from where you are. Meet me there as soon as you can. Bring no one, and tell no one you are coming.