Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The sun was halfway to the west, and the weather had turned pleasant. More travelers showed up in cheap inns around Pozna after a day’s journey. But the better part of the society headed straight to the crossroads where a well-known inn, the Swan, was located.

While most inns offered a communal hall to sleep, the Swan offered cleanliness, separate rooms, and lavish meals. Right now, the atmosphere in the hall was perfect to wind down, with comfortable chairs, excellent ales, and cool, airy halls, made possible by the inn’s high ceiling and multitudes of windows.

Whiffs of rich aroma from the grill complemented the scene, but for Lansius, it just turned into a dilemma. One old man in fancy clothes and his guard had flanked him for reason unknown. He had nowhere to hide, and Felis, unknowingly, had given his identity.

“God-damnit, it’s really you, Lansius,” the old man said, getting chummy with him.

Lansius felt cornered. He was sure this was some sort of trickery.

“My lady, please excuse us,” Anci, the tall and muscular guard, said. Despite looking like a musclehead, he seemed educated.

Can I talk myself out of this?

Before Lansius could try anything, the old man kept arguing. “Lans, it’s me. How could you not recognize me?”

“Apology, but I don’t know you,” Lansius answered, as polite as he could.

The old man chuckled. “It’s me, dammit. It’s Thomas.”

The name struck Lansius. He did a double-take, but the clean shaved and neatly combed person looked so different. Only now he noticed the similarity. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened unconsciously.

Thomas laughed, watching Lansius’s reaction, and slapped the man’s back.

“Ouch, what’d you do that for?” Lansius winced, but couldn’t resist grinning. He was relieved to see Thomas and also gladdened that nobody actually tried to con him.

Felis and Anci chuckled softly.

Thomas straightened up and adopted a more formal demeanor, turning toward Felis. “Please forgive our behavior, my lady.”

Felis shook her head gently. “No need to apologize. I’m not of noble birth. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” She bowed her head respectfully.

The second guard overheard the discussion as he approached. “Mademoiselle, your blond hair and blue eyes would make a high noble-born envious.”

Felis smiled at the flattery. “Please, call me Felis.”

Anci elbowed the second guard, who gasped in pain before returning the favor with a good punch to the guts.

Thomas shook his head as the twenty-something lads traded friendly jabs at each other. “Guys, knock it off.”

They quickly stopped and allowed Thomas to ask Felis, “Mademoiselle and Lans, would you care to join my table for a chat?”

Lansius shot a questioning glance at Felis. She nodded, and the two followed Thomas to a bigger table.

“I better introduce ourselves. I’m Thomas, and this is Anci, and Hugo. They are Sir Peter’s squires.” And then to the squires. “Boys, this is Lansius, the clerk whom I befriended in Riverstead.”

Despite the lack of introduction, Anci bowed his head to Felis first, before giving a weird grin to Lansius and offering his hand. They clasped hands, and Lansius found his grip to be firm and strong.

Hugo, the lean-looking squire, followed afterward. “Nice to see another Arvenian.”

As they sat together, Lansius asked, “Thomas, how did you get here? Isn’t Arvena occupied?”

“We went the long way round through Tiberia and Elandia,” Thomas explained. “So, what happened to you in the river crossing?”

The topic turned heavy. Despite not being prepared for it, Lansius told them everything, including what happened to Theo and Max.

As his brief story came to an end, Felis patted Lansius’s arm to console him.

In a span of a story, Thomas looked older with wrinkles and eyes that lost their luster. He exhaled deeply and said to Lansius, “Don’t blame yourself.”

“It’s clear that the margrave intended to massacre the entire House of Arvena. They even murder kids based on some rumors.” Hugo didn’t mince words.

“If only the High Court wasn’t so spineless,” Anci grumbled.

“Is it true that the young lord is missing?” Lansius asked. He had heard gossip about it on the road.

Thomas reluctantly nodded. A servant boy interrupted their discussion as he brought them a pudding, which to Lansius looked like a tart cake.

Without anyone’s objection, Anci took a slice, followed by the others. Lansius only took a small portion, fearing it may contain milk. Meanwhile, Felis took a big chunk and ate merrily by hand.

Erm . . . Well, who am I to judge?

The sweet treat changed the mood for the better. Everybody seemed pleased and ate happily.

Thomas cleaned his knife and sheathed it again. “You’re lucky to make it this far safely. The road and the cities aren’t as safe as Arvena.”

Lansius nodded. “Indeed. Just today, we had brush with a kidnapping.”

“Ready the gold. I’m calling Hugo.”

“Wait—” Lansius scrambled to open the sewn gold coins in his doublet, blanket, and inner part of the bag.

Thomas watched, his face showing surprise at Lansius’s ingenuity.

“Here.” Lansius showed six gold coins. The amount could buy two cottages, or a well-built two-story house in a friendly neighborhood.

Thomas didn’t take it, but whistled to signal for Hugo.

The laid-back squire, in a light blue brigandine, approached them. He saw what was on Lansius’s hands and received it politely. “On behalf of Sir Peter, I offer you his gratitude.”

The problem seemed to be resolved for Hugo and Thomas, but Lansius still had one concern.

“Umm, can I get a receipt?” he asked.

Hugo and Thomas were dumbfounded by the request, and Thomas couldn’t help but be amused. “Well, he’s a clerk. What can I say?”

Hugo and Thomas laughed, and Lansius chuckled along.

Hugo offered his right hand to Lansius. “If my signature is good enough, you shall have it.”

Lansius gladly clasped hands with Hugo.

The sun turned orange when Lansius, Thomas, and Hugo headed out.

“So, tell me about the war band?” Lansius asked.

Hugo bent a low-hanging branch so they could pass easily. “Not much to tell. We got less than a hundred, but mostly too young and without weapons.”

“I see . . .” Lansius paused for a bit. “Well, call me crazy, but have you ever considered rescuing slaves?”

“Rescue?” Thomas scoffed. “That’s ballsy, but foolish.”

Watching Lansius’s reaction, Hugo filled him in. “The Lord of Midlandia tolerates our presence, but he’ll kick us out if we try something funny with the slave trade.”

Lansius reluctantly nodded. He had heard rumors that the Imperium sanctioned the slave trade to appease the two Eastern Kingdoms that grew powerful, but only now did he have an indirect proof.

So, not even the Lord of Midlandia dares to go against the slave trade.

“The local lords are especially jittery about the presence of armed men in their regions,” Thomas commented about themselves.

“But I heard that Midlandia is on our side. Can’t they intervene at all?”

Hugo glanced at Lansius. “Only if it benefits them. This means we need the young lord. As the rightful heir, he could claim Arvena. If we have him, then Midlandia will gladly assist in exchange for a hefty compensation.”

“More likely a debt so large that Arvena could never repay,” Thomas sneered.

“Aye,” Hugo agreed. “This is why we can’t rely on Midlandia too much. With the Imperium like this, certainly Midlandia wants to carve out pieces of Arvena for themselves too.”

“And us as the henchmen.” Thomas swatted an insect that flew too close to his face.

Lansius tasted the hopelessness, but pushed forward. “Umm, if we found the young lord, would he do something about the Arvenian slaves?”

Hugo spared him some hope. “Well, those are his subjects. I think he’ll try to free them one way or another.”

Lansius noted the subtle change in Hugo’s voice but nodded at the false hope.

They trekked the short distance toward the edge of the wooded area and met with Anci and Felis.

“So, what are you guys talking about?” she asked.

Hugo looked at Lansius. Felis was an outsider.

Lansius nodded, but had another thought. “She’s from here. Maybe she could help.”

“Help with what?” Felis was intrigued.

Hugo mulled, but Anci nodded at him.

“Well, why not,” Hugo said. “We’re looking for a noble from Arvena. You might’ve heard about him, young Lord Arte. Light brown—”

“Light brown hair, beautiful jawline, charming, and speaks candidly like a bard? And oh, also a scar on his left eyebrow?” Felis sent rapid questions at Hugo.

The men stopped with eyes opened wide. “Y-you saw him?” Hugo nervously asked.