Chapter Three: Changes in Liones
Escanor knows the next town is nearby when the forest gives way to rolling grassland, the trees growing farther apart. When they come upon a path he rubs his hands together eagerly. "We'll hit a town by nightfall for sure," he says happily, turning to Merlin. A smile takes over his face as he thinks of hot water and a pillow and a nice mug of ale. "After four days of camping I'll be glad to find a tavern. Maybe we'll even find some horses to buy."
The mage looks less than thrilled as she follows. "This road is the start of Britannia," she warns. "Things will be different now."
"You keep saying that," Escanor frowns. They begin heading down the road together and he glances at her, Merlin's eyes remaining straight ahead. "What has changed?"
"The royal family is dead," she replies.
Her response is so simple, so matter-of-fact, that Escanor hesitates in his stride. "What are you talking about?" he demands.
Finally she glances at him, her eyes gauging his reaction. "Baltra has been killed, along with his daughters. The Grand Master staged a coup not long ago. Liones is now under the control of the Holy Knights."
"I had no idea," he murmured, now lost in thought. Baltra was a good king, fair and peaceful, well-regarded among the kingdoms. The news is startling to say the least. "So Liones has changed," muses Escanor.
"There is hope," Merlin offers. "Rumor is the youngest daughter escaped and is hidden somewhere, leading a resistance. Perhaps one day she will regain her throne, as the true queen of Liones." She gives him another sideways glance. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of this, being a knight."
"I told you, I'm not from Liones," he muttered. "And I've been in the kingdom of Solgales for almost a year."
"I see," she replies, cryptic as always, and they continue their walk in silence.
By mid-morning, a sign announcing the city of Kaynes appears. Despite the grave news about Liones, Escanor's mood immediately lifts, once more excited about a proper bath and bed for the night. "How close are we, do you know?" he asks, gesturing to the sign.
Merlin only purses her lips. "Too close."
She pauses and he stops as well, watching her remove something from her bag. "Here," she says, and his brows dart up to see her holding out his knife.
"You're giving this back?" questions Escanor as he takes it from her hand.
"As I've said, things have changed," Merlin explains, turning to continue walking. "I don't want my bodyguard being killed five minutes into the first town."
Escanor snorts. "Aren't you worried that I'll kill you instead?"
Merlin spins, making him almost stumble so he does not crash into her. The witch looks him over, and he can feel a sweat break out on his brow under her scrutiny as they stare at one another, a mere inch apart. Her amber eyes gaze at him through thick dark lashes; Escanor swallows thickly as her breath flutters the closure on his shirt. "No," she finally replies. "Besides, if you tried it, I would remove one of your limbs."
Slowly he leans down to bring them closer to eye level. "The woman in need of a bodyguard is going to take one of my limbs?" he snorts.
Merlin shrugs. "Can't be that difficult. And I would do you the favor of choosing which limb at least."
She flashes him a grin and starts walking again, but Escanor grits his teeth as he follows. "You're teasing me," he says.
"Perhaps. But I'm not afraid of you."
At that he laughs. "If you're not afraid, then why a bodyguard?"
"I said I wasn't afraid of you," she replies.
Escanor frowns at her back as they continue on, her cryptic answer grating his nerves. Something deep inside does not doubt that she could do what she says, but if that is the case, then why is he here?
The day is pleasant enough as they walk, the sun climbing despite the clouds. Escanor watches with interest, now that he is not experiencing his own typical climb into his invincible persona. The past few days have been interesting enough, being able to see the world around him as himself and not the Other. He can sense the calm that surrounds them, the trees just whispering lightly in the breeze. The air is fresh and clean, the smell of grass and sunshine so different from the cold dust of the mountains or the saltiness of the sea towns. It is truly a lovely day, and the stiffness in Escanor's muscles melt under the warm sun.
Merlin must be overreacting about the danger, he decides.
They arrive in Keynes and find it a typical, if not bustling, town. People are out in droves in the beautiful day, another mild one, and Escanor smiles a bit to see the women talking as they walk between the shops and the children zipping around the streets. A few soldiers ride through on horseback, and Escanor observes Merlin pulling the hood of her cloak up. But no one gives them a thought, so he forgets them as soon as they are out of sight.
It does not take them long to get to the town center. Three different taverns are situated around the center square, their doors and windows open to show the customers inside. He strikes towards the largest, grinning when the sign over the door reads The Green Pig. "This one should be lucky for us!" he laughs.
Merlin catches his arm, tugging him to stop. "We're being watched," she murmurs.
Her fingers hold tightly to his forearm, and Escanor glances down to see them digging in just slightly. Then he glances around, and sure enough, there are a few who are looking at the pair curiously. Yet when he meets their eyes they quickly look away, so he shrugs. "We're new, so a curiosity is all," he says. "Come on, I want an ale."
Merlin gives an unapproving look but follows. He smirks a bit under his breath, getting used to her moods now, which seem to range from annoyed disapproval to open disapproval. They step up and into the tavern, and Escanor scans for any threats. But there is nothing to really see: wall of alcohol, bar with stools, tables mostly empty except for a couple sporting drinking patrons.
The air is a bit stale, yet he strides confidently in and goes to the bar. The bartender is not paying attention, so he takes another look around as Merlin slips into a stool next to him. "Seems all very ordinary to me," he teases.
"Let's hope it stays that way," she replies.
Escanor huffs before turning to try to get the barkeep's attention. If she wants to be so suspicious, he won't let that get in his way. "Pardon!" he calls to the back turned to him. "We need two rooms and two draughts of ale."
"Aye, stranger, do ya need—"
The bartender turns and abruptly halts, eyes wide as they land on Escanor. They quickly run the length of him before settling on his face, causing him to frown at the man's horror. Surely he looks a bit of a sight having spent half a week in the woods, but it can't be that bad. Maybe it's his size? He is tall and broad even without the Sun, yet surely he's not the largest by far. The man does not speak again, so Escanor gives a nervous chuckle. "You alright? I can't look that frightening."
The barkeep looks angry, then stomps towards them. "Get out."
"What?"
"Get out." He jerks his chin towards the door. "You're not welcome here."
Escanor frowns. "What? Why? I have money, you—"
"I'm not having any trouble in here." The man's jaw tightens, and something about his eyes confuses Escanor even more. His eyes flicker over Escanor's shoulder. "Someone go get the sheriff!"
"We'll leave," says Merlin smoothly, but Escanor puts a hand out to stop her.
"No. Not until we get an explanation." He glares at the barkeep. "What did we do? Don't you take in travelers? You're a tavern, seems contrary to your—"
The man raises his hand, and Escanor flinches, expecting a fight. Instead he points a finger straight at his face and says, "And what do you call that?"
Escanor blinks. "A finger?"
"No, on your face!" The barkeep growls in annoyance. "There are no mustaches allowed in the city. This is common knowledge among everyone around these parts."
"I'm not from around these parts," argued Escanor. "How was I supposed to know?"
The man huffs and folds his arms. "There are signs everywhere. Now get out of here before someone sees you."
Escanor plants his hand on the counter and leans forward. "We aren't leaving over some nonsense rule about facial hair. Who is in charge around here?"
"I am." The voice behind them is deep and serious, yet the sight of the man it belongs to confuses Escanor even more. He is tall and broad, barely fitting through the front door, three men behind him glaring at them sullenly. The sheriff is tanned, wearing garish red armor over his thick body, gray hair pulled back tightly. But the most startling thing is the large, bushy mustache that sits on his upper lip, not very unlike Escanor's own.
His eyes shoot to the bartender. "What is the meaning of this?"
Escanor spies the man swallowing visibly before backing away. "I'm sorry, Sir Twigo! This man just showed up here, I tried to get him to go! Honest!"
"I see." The sheriff puts his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging from his hip. "What do you think you are doing here, stranger?"
Shaking his head, Escanor holds up his palms. "I have no idea what the issue is. We just arrived in town, my companion and I—"
"I don't know who this man is," Merlin says calmly.
"Hey!" Escanor shouts, glaring down at her twisting smile.
He hears footsteps approach. Standing tall, Escanor is still a head shorter than the sheriff, whose ridiculously bulky body is even more reminiscent of a sausage stuffed inside a tin can when only an inch away. He tries to frown deeply but his confusion over the entire situation keeps his gaze from being terribly threatening; on the contrary, the knight leans down and examines him closely. Escanor hears him sniff and catches a whiff of cabbage and wine, Sir Twigo's breath feathering over the combed and oiled handlebar. Then sure enough, the dark, olive-colored eyes narrow as they fall squarely on the mustache that sits on his top lip.
"You have come to Keynes and broken our laws," Twigo says gravely. "Your have refused to take responsibility for this. Conclusion: you will serve a year in jail for your insolence to this province and to Liones."
Escanor laughs. "A year? For what, having a mustache?" In an attempt to lighten the mood, he smooths two fingers over his own whiskers. "I always thought I looked rather good with this."
"You dare mock me!" The sword is drawn and slicing at Escanor, and he has only a second to react. The knight is too large and his armor too unwieldy for the attack to have any finesse, yet the power behind his size is enough that Escanor is jumping to the side with a shout, rolling over on the floor and up onto his feet in a crouch.
There is a taste in the air, like lightning and dust. Magic, the thinks, and curses Merlin for the hundredth time for taking his power. The sheriff undoubtedly used some of his power in the attack, for the man's sword is now implanted into the wood of the bar, sliced clean in half right where Escanor had been standing.
His eyes dart around for Merlin, locating her slinking back into a shadowed corner in silence. Escanor does not know what rankles him more: the fact that the sheriff attacked with no regard for the innocent bystanders and property, or the fact that this is over his mustache?
"Very clever!" Twigo booms, pulling his sword up from where it was stuck in the maple. "You have reflexes that are quick. But I can tell you have no power level, so are not a knight. Conclusion: you will be dealt justice with ease!"
Escanor tenses as Twigo turns his wrist to strike again, but one of the soldiers calls, "Sir Twigo! Are you sure this is the best course of action?"
The sheriff's eyes dart to the side in an angry glare. "What are you saying, Alioni?"
A tall knight steps up from the others, cravenly huddled together by the door. "Before you strike, perhaps you should consider showing mercy. After all, he is an outsider and unused to the laws you have so recently made." He turns to Escanor, holding a hand over his heart and giving a slight bow. "Would you be willing to make reparations for your crime? Then the sheriff may be inclined to spare your life."
"Reparations?" Twigo asks. He straightens up, ironically stroking his mustache as he thinks. "What sort of reparations?"
Alioni gives a little shrug. "Have him pay a fine, and ban him from the town. Would that suit you?"
Twigo pauses to consider, but Escanor sputters, "I'm not paying a fine for having a mustache! Last I looked it's not against the law to have facial hair." All eyes fall on him in a mixture of anger and horror, but he does not care. "This place is utter nonsense, and you—" here he points at Sir Twigo, "—are the biggest buffoon of all."
"Why—why—you—" The sheriff can barely spit out his next insult as his cheeks grow red and puffed. Holding his sword in both hands, the air in the room begins to move as he collects his power into the blade. The stools tip over as mugs and bottles fly from the tables, glass shattering around them. "Now you will feel my Sword Punch Chop for your brazenness. No man can withstand my blow. Conclusion: your insistence on mockery is your own demise!"
Escanor whips around, looking for something to use to defend himself from the attack, when there is a sudden gust of wind that knocks everyone over. A moment later, Sir Twigo is encased in ice, his darting eyes the only part of his body that moves. Every inch of him is contained in the great icicle, and as he stares in wonder Alioni steps over and holds out a hand.
"Sorry about that," he says. "Sir Twigo can get a bit… enthusiastic."
"Enthusiastic!" Escanor ignores the offered hand as he climbs to his feet, brushing off dust that has settled now that the wind has stopped swirling. "He was ready to kill me over my mustache!"
Alioni sighs. "Some of the people in the province were wearing fake ones in protest of the new taxes. Sir Twigo was not amused and banned them outright."
Escanor scoffs. "Since when are province sheriffs allowed to make their own laws?"
A hand touches his arm, and he feels embarrassed to see it is Merlin. He had nearly forgotten she was there! "We should leave before the good knight melts," she says with a smile.
Escanor nods, then looks back at Alioni. "You'll let us go then?"
"Yes. Just don't come back." The knight nods over towards the sheriff. "I doubt you'll be so lucky next time."
They step around the ice structure and the mess of blown chairs and tables and broken glass and head for the door. Neither speak until they reach the outskirt of the city, and then Escanor turns on Merlin. "You didn't tell me the knights were such scoundrels! A whole province of people pinned under that man's mustache. It's insane!"
"I told you Britannia had changed," she snaps. "You didn't listen."
That silences Escanor for a while as they head down the road. The sun is now past noon, and he presses his lips into a thin line. A part of him is glad the Other had not been present for that confrontation, but at the same time, Escanor would have had his own magic to handle the sheriff. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't taken my power," he eventually says.
"Perhaps," she answers cryptically.
"When the commanding officers hear about his behavior—"
"Escanor!" she snaps, yanking on his arm to get his attention. His heart skips a beat at the very passionate tone of her voice; it is the most emotion he had seen from his companion since the start of this arrangement. "The commanding officers murdered the king and his daughters. They have taken over Liones using dark magic and have their eyes set on the whole of Britannia." Merlin heaves a deep breath as his eyes widen. "Do you understand this now? Sir Twigo and his mustache laws are just the cusp of the problems plaguing this kingdom. He is a moron in charge of a province in the far corner of Liones, where there is nothing of importance. How do you think things will be as we get closer to the capital?"
He clears his throat uncomfortably. "I see your point," says Escanor slowly, "but—"
"But nothing," she hisses. "Now let's get to Vaizel as soon as we can."
With that they start off, Escanor with even more to puzzle out. Is this why she is headed to the city? Is she part of some group to stop things, or does she just want to see the damage for herself? Is she looking for someone, or something? He decides not to press the issue as she is so irritated, not wanting to provoke her further.
When the sun goes down, they once more make camp, and Escanor decides to offer a bit of hope. "Not all is lost," he tells her as he sets a pot to boil.
Merlin looks at him over the flames. "How so?"
"There are some good knights left," he explains. "Look at Alioni. He put his own sheriff in ice and saved me."
She stares at him blankly before asking, "Did he now?" Then she turns away and pulls out her orb to study, leaving Escanor with more questions.