Chapter 2
One month ago—
In the gigantic throne room the Queen Ashelia of Dalmasca could acutely feel Balthier shift from boredom behind her. Once a week the Queen opened her throne room for all her people—rich and poor—to beseech her help on whatever problems they were having difficulty solving. In many cases it was a noble disputing property lines, or offenses with another noble, and so Ashelia would attempt to sort it out.
Balthier—she still could not believe he had married her—usually accompanied her on such days, both to keep her from rotting away from boredom and to make sure she was protected. As her personal guard he typically wore arm and leg armor and a vest, but he kept his face unmasked. She was sure that had been a point of contention for him when he was a Judge, but it also had the added effect that the people, usually the nobles, could easily judge both the Queen's and her consort's temperamental compass by increasingly darkening glares from him. She had asked him to curb it, which he was usually able to hold in a stoic manner not dissimilar from Basch, but he refused to look like an unfeeling machine.
For once there was a lull in the schedule and in the attempt to look regal they largely kept quiet, but the acute silence was rubbing on Ashe and she finally said, "Balthier—"
"Don't even start." They had had this conversation several times before. "I knew what I was doing when I married you."
"I was going to say you did not have to stay with me today."
"That was not your previous line of thought, and you might as well perish that thought too. I like to be informed. Besides I will be leaving your side in half an hour or so. Geoffrey will take my place," Balthier said, glancing at his pocket watch.
Ah, Geoffrey, Ashe mused. After he had married her, Balthier had done a little reorganzing of the palace, as well as getting under the skin of her most trusted, and occasionally oldest, officials. Instead of employing a member or two of the Royal guard he had gone out and hired his own personal assistant and guard. The man had no loyalty to anyone but Balthier and the former pirate liked it that way.
"You don't usually leave in the middle of the day."
"Well, I have a council meeting tomorrow. I must head to the library and do some research to prepare for it."
"Oh dear. Try not to get on their bad side because I have to deal with them too. Their favorite thing to complain about is you. I know how much you love antagonizing them. What's the topic?"
"Education." Though she did not turn she knew he had a smug smile on his face.
"Oh, well I am sure you will enjoy debating that. You have mentioned your ideas to me and I fully support them."
"Well, thank you, but they bitch and moan that I am trying to turn Dalmasca into Archadia."
"Well, we are, are we not? In order to live adequately in the world community we must have educated citizens."
"That's what I said, but they maintain that nobles alone should retain the right to an education. That is something that most of the people in Old Archades do not have: an education. In that way they sound just like Archadian nobles."
"We knew it was out there. We both have had our share of glaring hypocrisy. Balthier, you would not believe how eternally grateful I am that I was able to marry you and not simply a figurehead. Do you miss being a pirate?"
"Well…yes, I do but there is not any way it would have worked out. I gave Vale my word. The timing could hardly have been any better." She felt his hand rest comfortably on her shoulder and he squeezed it.
"How is Vale? I send her a letter every week but I rarely hear back from her."
"That is because she is a terrible correspondent. I call her by communicator and she is almost always whining about her classes. She sends her apologies she hasn't written to you, and thanks you for your concern."
"When did she say this?" There was hardly a time Balthier was not on his toes, and it was clear he had forgotten to pass on Vale's message.
"Yesterday." He must have sensed her smiling because he said, "She called me last night, and you know I did not get out of the library until midnight."
"Researching for the council meeting. I do hope you come to bed earlier tonight."
"That is precisely why Geoffrey is to relieve me in a few moments."
Suddenly a herald opened the door and they fell silent. "Lord Marskot Demarlgen." The person stepped through the door and turned back to say something to the herald before he refocused his attention back on the two people on the dais. Balthier jumped off though and met Marskot halfway.
"Marskot! How are you doing? It's been a few years, hasn't it?" He said, hugging his friend fiercely.
"Two years?" Marskot said as he began to grin.
"That is still quite a while."
"And yet you look as you did when Sari and I left."
"Oh really? Well even so, have you seen Vale? She must have gained a couple more inches on me. She is taller than Ashe."
"Wow, it sounds like she's taller than Sari, too. Where is Vale?"
Balthier clicked his tongue and said, "Private school. She hated the palace tutors and missed the company of other students, too."
"That sounds like Vale," Marskot said and then he turned his attention to Ashe who had gotten up and walked down to meet them. "Ah, Lady Ashe, you look as beautiful as ever. I hope you are faring well." In true nobility fashion he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckle.
She smiled and said, "I am well, Marskot. I hope you and Sari are as well?"
"Very well, your highness."
"Marskot, it is Ashe if you please."
His face soured and he shook his head, "I am sorry, but you have status above me now."
"Marskot, is there any particular reason you're here? If it was simply for a visit Sari would be here," Balthier said. He studied his friend carefully and frowned at him. Now that he really looked, he could see his friend was a little disheveled. His dirty blonde hair was out of place and there were slight bruises under his eyes from his sleepless nights. Balthier could see the mirth in his eyes was merely a mask to hide his distress.
"Very astute of you. I…actually came to talk to you. Do you mind if I speak to you alone? No offense intended, your highness," he said as his eyes darted nervously.
Ashe blinked at him curiously but she waved her hand at them and said, "Go ahead. I will continue to attend to the people."
"Geoff will be here shortly, so you won't have to wait too long for company," Balthier said, and then he led the way out of the room. They went up several flights of stairs to a room Balthier had arranged as his private study. Books filled the shelves and various items sat in spaces, such as the gun he had been carrying when they had gone up against Vayne. A couple of terrariums also sat on the shelves, one in particular carrying a small python curled up in a corner, another container held a large dragon. There was a basket with a ragged blanket for his cat Artemis, who was dozing in a patch of sunlight that filtered through the windows.
"You've set yourself a nice place up here," Marskot said, looking around. He bent down to stroke Artemis, who bleated in irritation at him.
"No one is allowed in here without my permission. Not even Ashe. Now tell me what is bothering you."
Like clockwork the mask fell away once they were alone. Marskot collapsed in a chair in front of his desk and merely breathed there for a moment. Finally he said, "I need your help. I have been having these dreams lately. I can't explain them."
"What do you mean?"
"They are these nightmares. But there is nothing remotely scary about them! I simply wander through this place looking for something. For what I do not know, but in the dream I feel this strange sense of urgency and fear. Well, the building that I am seeing is rather creepy. Desolate and derelict, it looks like an abandoned mansion or castle from the inside. There are snarling statues and decaying portraits hanging on the wall. Every morning I wake up with the need to go to that place. Once I actually felt like something was tugging me out of the bed and out the door. I fought it off, but that's the morning I decided to come to you."
Balthier frowned at his friend, trying to make sense from the vague description Marskot had given him of the dreams. "What do you need of me?"
"I was actually going to ask if you could accompany me," Marskot said, fiddling with his hands even as he did so.
His proposition was met by silence as Balthier continued to study him. "I know, I know, I should not be disturbing you and your new life. I almost did not come, but…I cannot do this alone."
Balthier raised his eyebrows and he said, "Do not get me wrong but you have Sari."
He blushed and cast his eyes downward before he said, "She already offered to come. And she was going to but circumstances changed, and I felt it was too dangerous to attempt. You are my only hope. I trust no one else!"
Balthier was silent for some time as he looked at his friend. Why does Marskot need to go to this place so badly? He was not keen to leave for who knew how long on a quest with no clear destination, most particularly since the crashing of the Bahamut was almost three years behind them and peace was so very fragile. I can always leave Geoffrey to guard Ashe. That is why I hired him. Even though he consistently denied it to Ashe, like earlier, it hurt that he could not be a pirate anymore—at the very least adventure!—and that in part had been due to his injuries from the Bahamut and his promise to Vale. Now, here, Marskot was handing him the perfect opportunity to strike out into the world again.
I did tell Ashe my restless ways could not keep me by her side for long, Balthier thought.
His eyes refocused on Marskot who had gone back to looking at the dragon, who was sunbathing on the rock giving the Dorstonian a placid look. "Marskot?" When his friend looked back at him he said, "You'll have to give me some time to think about it."
"That is fine. I will leave five days from now early, early in the morning. If you will go, try to forewarn me so that I know not to leave without you," Marskot said. He started out the door without an answer but Balthier got up from his chair and followed him out.
"Wait! Where are you staying?"
"Oh, I figure I might go back to the Sandsea tavern."
"Why don't you stay here?"
Marskot actually seemed to consider it and then he shook his head. "No. I would prefer you think on my proposition without any interference from me."
The next day Balthier flipped through the books and pages he had gathered for the council meeting with an ever darkening scowl on his face. It was only proper that he had told officials of Marskot's proposition and now he wish that he had kept it to himself and merely told Ashe. As soon as he had thought on the implications of telling them, he knew the subject of the day's council meeting would change in an instant to—what the older council members considered—a more pressing issue.
Ashe and I talked. We wanted to avoid this for a couple more years, he grumbled to himself as he waited for the other council members to arrive. Several of them had already arrived and they eyed the consort as he continued to flip through the pages of his report. Despite its thickness Balthier had not been able to fully concentrate on it last night, after Marskot had left. He found this new puzzle more appealing to sift through.
I guess it is too late, he thought when he heard the door open and close from the last council member. Balthier was at the head of the table with the dozen council members sitting on opposite ends. Them against him. The atmosphere of this meeting was a little more charged than usual, due largely in part to Balthier's dark mood. Usually he wore an innocuously smug smile and the debate would begin, but this situation was different.
"Prince-consort Balthier Bunansa, due to recent circumstances we had to change the subject of today's council meeting from Education in Dalmasca to the pending request of Marskot Demarlgen of Dorstonia," the head council member Balim Gorovan said. "As this is a personal request from him to you, we do not have to touch on the implications to foreign policy. The record is clear that you are friends and we will respect that, but we beg that you take this nation into consideration when you arrange personal meetings. You are the consort now, not a pirate, and as such it is part of your responsibility to see that Dalmasca is, first and foremost, protected and that her reputation with allies remains intact. Do you understand?"
Balthier had not even bothered looking at Balim as he had talked, choosing to continue directing his glare toward the floor. His hand had moved from flipping the pages of his reports and books to twirling a pocket knife. Standard political reply from a council. They're only concerned about covering their own asses, Balthier thought. He could understand their concerns but when it was personal business they could keep their gigantic, hooked noses out of it.
Balim was actually younger than most, at possibly twenty years Balthier's senior, but he was the most radical of the lot, and he had fought animatedly against the sky pirate marrying Ashe. Balthier remembered that had practically been the conflict of the century. No one had any problem with it except the nobles—potential bachelors as far as Balthier was concerned—and they had fought against him and Marskot. They had thrown argument after argument with such zeal the noble eventually crumpled. It helped Marskot's case that he was of the second most influential family in Dorstonia. I imagine they're still bitter about that, Balthier thought as he examined his knife.
After an excruciatingly long silence Balthier said, "Yes."
"Very good. About this venture: where do you intend on going?"
"I do not know. Marskot will go where his dreams will take him. My purpose is merely to escort him there," Balthier said, wishing his friend had given him more information.
"Do you know how long you will be gone?"
"No."
"Do you know anything else of this venture?"
"Only that we must go incognito," Balthier said. A lie for Marskot but true enough for Balthier. Aside from their friends, only the people of Rabanastre really knew Balthier's face and no one outside had probably seen pictures. Hell, their Queen had wandered the streets of her city during their journey and no one had recognized her face. He at least would not have to grow much if any facial hair.
Another man, one by the name of Durin, who was much older than Balim if the face full of wrinkles was anything to go by said, "I am sure you are well aware of where we are going with this. You already understood your duty to this country when you married Her Majesty, now we are asking you to fulfill that obligation."
"I do not understand how this merits me to fulfill my duties. Ashe and I asked for five years when we were married, and you granted us that!"
"Circumstances change," Balim said.
"No they do not. You have nothing of any weight to require you to break your deal with us," Balthier snapped at them. He did not like having this compromise on their privacy and happiness.
"With so little information, we feel it is in the best interest of Dalmasca if you fulfill your obligations now. We said this at the beginning of the meeting: Dalmasca comes before you and most particularly before your relationship with the queen. Now, you will provide an heir before you leave."