22nd Day of Planting, 565 CY

The Royal Palace, Chendl, Furyondy

"All Hail His Most Royal Highness and Pious Majesty, King Belvor IV of Furyondy!"

Sir Davos Rahldent's voice again rang off the marble walls of the throne room. The group standing before their liege bent down on one knee. Each regarded the floor below them, their individual thoughts swirling silently in their heads.

Well, here we go again…

Let justice be done…

I should have gone back to Caroline…

I can't believe I'm back here again. I must be crazy…

We're rested. We're ready to go. We have to do better this time…

Please, Your Majesty. Please make the right decision…

My knees are killing me, and my stomach hurts. If I vomit on the floor, will they make me clean it up?

The octet slowly rose back to their feet. Thankfully, no long vows of fealty or ceremonies were required of them this time, other than the respect always shown one's liege. King Belvor's hazel eyes regarded them all. He tapped the thin mace he held lightly into his left palm a few times, apparently deciding beforehand exactly what he was going to say.

"My thanks goes out to all of you," the monarch began. "My good and loyal subjects. You have proven your valor and made your lord's will manifest. For that, I humbly thank you." Belvor actually bowed his head low to his audience. His underlings and officers, apparently taken by surprise by this, followed suit after a confused moment.

"Now then," the king resumed. "I have been told that you have been briefed on where we stand. That foul slaver you sent here, Blucholtz by name, has given us what information he knew. Justice was then carried out, swiftly and surely."

He directed his gaze towards Talass as he said this, but the priestess of Forseti seemed uncharacteristically troubled, though she kept the accepted smile on gratitude upon her face. She could only hope to herself that it was indeed justice that had been carried out and not vengeance. Talass remembered all too well how many times she or Nesco had come within inches of slaughtering their aggravating prisoner like a pig on Freeday. She sighed. It didn't matter now. Blucholtz was dead. She could do nothing about it but look to the future.

"The Slavers' Stockade remains in the hills of the Pomarj. If it does not fall, it does seem inevitable that these accursed flesh peddlers will resume their ways, if they have not done so already." The monarch leaned forward slightly. "You have already proven yourself in my service, good people," he said. "This task must be done, but your king no longer commands you to do so. I have been told that you have without coercion or thought of reward volunteered to return and finish the task you have started."

Belvor leaned back on his throne. "This news warms my heart. However, I wish to make it plain to you that you need not accept this yoke. If you desire to return to your home, you may do so without fear of any malice or ill-thought from your liege. I can assemble another party for this task, if the need arises. I ask only that you speak your true hearts to me."

Elrohir looked around at his friends. The expressions he saw ranged from acceptance (oddly enough, from his wife as well as from Aslan), to a resigned sigh (from Cygnus). Argo bit his lip but said nothing.

Elrohir turned back to the king.

"Your Royal Majesty," he said with a steady a voice as he could muster, "We stand ready and eager to go forth."

Belvor smiled. "So be it. Due to your previous success, the Royal Council has once again agreed to sponsor you on your mission. Once again, the Valorous Temple of Chendl shall aid you by whatever means in their power." The king's hand swept towards High Priest Gareth Heldenster. The High Priest nodded briefly but kept his face carefully neutral.

Elrohir faced the cleric and returned his acknowledgement. "Thank you, your Grace. I pray that once again we will find no need for your services, but knowing they are there will strengthen our resolve." The ranger caught Aslan's look of admiration out of the corner of his eye. It confused him momentarily, but then he realized with a start that this was probably most eloquent he had ever sounded.

Maybe I'm starting to actually sound like a party leader, Elrohir thought. That would be nice. My team deserves someone who won't embarrass them.

"So then," continued King Belvor, "it remains only to decide which representative of the Crown shall accompany you on your return journey."

Nesco's head shot up. With some surprise, Elrohir saw a look of near-panic on her face that her fellow ranger was trying and failing to conceal. "My Lord?" she managed to croak out. "I would have thought that…" Cynewine trailed off.

The king inclined his head as he regarded his servant. "You have been away from your home for two months, Nesco Cynewine," he stated. "I would not assume for you such a decision."

The two of them locked eyes.

"Your service is equally welcome to this court wherever you may choose to provide it," Belvor finished, a slight smile on his face.

Nesco's sigh of relief was louder than she would have wished. A nervous smile broke out on her face as glanced at the others.

"I choose to stay with them once again."

Elrohir saw Nesco's eyes searching their faces and realized what she was looking for. He gave her his best smile, and the others (save Tojo, of course) quickly followed suit. The ranger returned it, then glanced down at the floor again, blushing.

The king nodded with approval as he stood up and began the descent down the marble steps. "So be it. Retire to the staging area and leave when you are ready. Know that the good wishes of this land, and its ruler, go with you." He bowed his head once more. "May the Archpaladin and all your gods watch over you."

Sir Rahldent opened the door that they had exited through on their last visit as King Belvor moved off to talk to Heldenster.

The group moved into the corridor outside the throne room. Nesco, bringing up the rear, was surprised to find a familiar figure standing there. Apparently waiting for her, he was wringing his hands together. His middle-aged face was covered in more worry lines than Cynewine had last remembered.

"Comitello!" she said with a delighted smile that he returned in kind. The aristocrat moved forward, took Nesco's right hand in his and kissed it softly.

"Nesco Cynewine! Always an honor and a pleasure!" he beamed. Nesco could see the rest of the party stop about ten feet down the corridor and turn back. She saw Aslan raise an eyebrow.

"A family friend," she explained, a bit embarrassed. "Go ahead. I'll be along shortly!"

After a moment's hesitation, and several glances between them, the seven moved on. Nesco turned back to Comitello, whose face was now much more serious.

"Lady Cynewine," he began. "I cannot express enough my relief when I heard news that your mission was a success, and more importantly, that you were safe and sound. Of course," he added hastily, "your family shares these sentiments many times over."

Nesco's smile took on a grim overtone. "I know you well enough to know that you are always honest with me, Comitello. I also know my family. What's really going on?"

"Ah, will my friendship with Nesco ever cease to cause me problems?" Comitello asked with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

The ranger was about to retort Ask your wife but held her tongue at the last moment. Right now, she needed all the allies she could get.

The court functionary returned his gaze to Nesco's face. "Officially, I am here of course to report back to your father on your status." All traces of a smile faded from Comitello's face. "Unofficially, Lady Gella wishes you to return home. She did not say as such to me, but I believe she wishes young Joseph to obtain, shall we say- a bit more experience?"

Nesco pursed her lips. I should have seen that coming, she thought. "And my father?" she asked.

Comitello shrugged. "Sir Alexor says that you are old enough to make your own decisions in these matters."

She considered. If she returned with the others to the Pomarj, Cynewine knew her father was going to suffer from both his wife and his eldest surviving son and had no real allies among his surviving children save Nesco herself. She hated to leave him like this. If it hadn't been for her father, she wouldn't have gone on the first expedition.

She sighed to herself. Then again, if I returned home, what could I say to him?

Nesco steadied her nerves and looked her friend squarely in the eye.

"Comitello, please send my deepest regrets to my mother, but there is unfinished business at hand, and our Lord and Majesty Belvor IV has requested that I serve where I believe that I can do the most good. Right now, that is down south in the Pomarj."

The noble nodded. His eyes flickered down to the floor, then came back to meet Nesco's. "I shall indeed, Nesco. But please, take care of yourself."

She smiled back. "I shall indeed, my friend," the ranger said, clasping Comitello's shoulder in her hand. "I'll be back at the family table soon enough."

Comitello smiled weakly, glancing at Nesco's hand as she removed it. He seemed about to say something, then just bowed to her and headed back into the throne room. Nesco continued down the corridor to rejoin her friends.

Unfinished business indeed, she thought. More of that than you can ever know.