The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part III: Debts to be Paid
Episode Seventeen
Sir Jean was grunting as he stepped down the ramp. Arabyan crewmen leapt to help him, knowing that he had fought as hard and offered them as much encouragement as a hero. But the knight waved them away and trudged on.
Jacque followed his master quietly, carrying his masters' armour and their swords on his back. There was a small assembly of the Emir's men waiting for them and helped to receive the bodies and injured crew. Sir Jean gave the procession of injured a pained look and turned towards the gate to the city.
"Knight!"
The Druchii's new retainer yelled to them.
"Sir knight!"
Jacque tugged at his master's arm "Sir Jean, he beckons us. Aren't we to stop?"
"I care not for his words." He responded.
"He speaks only as that…" he paused, his face pained, before tempering his words, "As she would command him."
'Spineless cur' the knight thought disdainfully, yet immediately a pain more than his injuries came through his chest as he thought; 'You were far too brash Jean… It's not this man's fault either.'
Sir Jean stood still and with a weak nod allowed Jacque to intercept the translator. Watching his squire turn and raise a hand to hail the man Jean remarked; 'She could have gotten my boy killed…'
His inner voice responded to itself, answering the paternal worry; 'You're too old… He held his own, and she was only doing what she told you she was going to… What you should have expected her to do?'
Sir Jean cringed in pain at his own folly, 'Too old… too slow, too emotional…'
He furrowed his brow and drew a sharp breath, the irritation and burning along his sides told him with familiarity that already the bones were mending, 'But there are other things which are not so easily fixed.'
Yurin was closer now and Jacque politely smiled at him. The squire had enjoyed the man earlier, during their voyage, and even before they set sail. Sure, he seemed somewhat cowardly but, 'he had dived into the fray after his master.' Jean thought, 'So he's not entirely without courage, he has no sense, but he has heart!'
'Gods…' Sir Jean groaned, 'have I erred?'
"Noble Bretonnians!" Yurin greeted, interrupting Sir Jean's thoughts.
Stepping down the ship's gangway and onto dry land, he nearly collapsed from the sudden feeling of solid ground underfoot. Jacque pursed his lips in a near laugh. But the wailing of the injured and the overall sombreness of the docks wouldn't allow him to chuckle. Not yet at least.
Yurin bowed and quickly addressed them,
"My lady extends her praises to you and tells me to impart that she shall call upon you at her return, should you remain in the city."
Sir Jean huffed heavily and slowly limped towards the gate. Jacque furrowed his brow and slowly began to follow. Yurin quickly continued,
"She wanted you to know, the boy fought well. My lady says he may become a great knight someday."
Jacque let out a painful smile as he stepped after Sir Jean. The elder knight responded,
"Look upon that crew Master Yurin"
The young man looked to his side and his face rose in revulsion,
"That's what she will wrought," the knight shook his head, "and may I be marked a liar if it is not so, but this may be the only time to turn from your choice of service to the Druchii."
Yurin furrowed his brow as he watched the knight continue to walk away, somewhat perturbed by the ominous warning.
"Do you have any message for my lady?"
It was a wonder how the old man was still standing, let alone breathing and moving with his broken ribcage. Sir Jean paused and looked over his shoulder,
"I will not apologise for my words, but…"
He turned and faced Yurin sideways, "I feared for my boy, and spoke in anger… But I suppose we both did."
He nodded, somewhat deflated.
"We may remain in the city, but the first ship bound for Bretonnia shall be our craft home."
Sir Jean exhaled pensively and turned back to leave. Yurin felt compelled to bow in deference, and spoke in an even tone,
"I shall deliver your words to my lady."
Jacque appeared like he wanted to say something, but he pursed his lips and merely waved a mute farewell to the retainer. Yurin raised his hand slowly as he weighed the knight's words. Shaking his head and watching the knight and squire exit the harbour through the open gate Yurin turned back to the dhow with a confused expression.
The sailors were already readying the rigging and sails to move again. His eyes darted from the ship to the injured crewmen being helped by their fellows. He looked at the dead men lying in their sewn-up hammocks, their heads sticking out of the top of their wrapping. He solemnly looked them over until he arrived at a man larger than all others. The blank expression of the dead captain Asada caught his eye.
'But I made a vow…' he thought.
He stepped towards the plank and began climbing back aboard.
'I kissed her blade.' He nodded and thought in his mother tongue, a language he'd not been able to speak aloud for years. 'I cannot fail her again.'
Fear crept into his chest as he stepped back onto the deck.
'I will not fail her with my cowardice…' he shivered and let out a tense heavy breath as his heart beat louder.
'I may be no swordsman but… I can't allow fear to do that to me again…'
He felt somewhat resolved in his efforts, despite the somewhat dour and discouraging farewell of the knight. Stepping along the deck he looked up and nodded towards the acting captain Dahi near the helm. The Arabyan scratched his beard nervously and nodded in acknowledgement.
Yurin climbed the aft castle and spoke with the captain for a few moments, watching as the men began getting the ship under weigh. Climbing back down the stairs to the lower deck the retainer approached Raveres' room and furrowed his brow to see that the door was ajar.
"My lady?" he asked into the gloom.
Cloaked in the white riding hood and wearing improvised garments over her bandages the Druchii stepped into the sliver of the open door.
"Aye" she responded.
"Are y-you… rested?" he asked nervously, surprised at her sudden appearance.
She narrowed her features and held back a groan of pain,
"Well enough, I wish to step to the deck." She let out a scoff and added, "I can't sleep at all."
Yurin nodded, "I'm sure I could get you more poppy oil… but are you sure to be up and moving as you are?"
She stepped out of the room, sword belt around her waist and her wrapped left hand held tightly to her abdomen.
"And miss landfall?"
She began walking slowly down the hall, "Only to be woken up after these men have taken the choicest of my wealth?" she laughed, "I think naught."
The retainer followed closely behind as Raveres brought the hood of the riding cloak up and around over her head. Her face and hair appeared to have a shine to it, 'Did she wet her face again?' Yurin wondered.
"Well," he bowed his head as she passed him, "You'll be pleased to know we're leaving the port now. I spoke with captain Dahi and there's been a turn in the wind-"
Raveres grit her teeth, pursed her lips, and began a low growl. Yurin's voice rose as he explained,
"No, no my lady! It's turned in our favour."
She smirked and raised a brow privately. The retainer lowered his voice as they came closer to the stair,
"And I…"
He gulped and nodded, "I spoke with the Bretons."
Raveres climbed the steps almost noiselessly as Yurin continued,
"The knight seemed, penitent for some reason?"
Her voice came out low and petulantly,
"Of course, he did, that appears to be their habit; do something and feel heavy for it. Say something and become wracked by it."
She shook her head and the material of the hood crinkled,
"I am not thinking more on them until after this voyage."
Yurin nodded, "Aye my lady, as you say. But they did-"
She turned and had one of her brows arched and her lips plain as she stared the human down.
"Tell me after, but for now, hold your tongue."
He bowed uncomfortably as they came to the deck, "As you say, my lady."
…
Raveres surveyed the surface of the ship, on either side the walls of the harbour began to part and the city began to shrink behind them once again. In the low lighting of morning twilight, the city seemed so strange, it felt and appeared to her as if it was a completely different place. Yet she knew that nothing had changed.
'Well… that's not entirely true'
She looked down at her wrapped left hand and felt the burning throbbing of her whole body.
"That bastard…" she whispered.
Yurin raised a brow and stepped closer to her side, "My lady?"
She shook her head and adjusted her hood off her right ear, "Nothing…"
The retainer nodded and pointed towards the bow,
"Dahi told me that we may just reach the archipelago a little past dawn."
Quietly the Druchii nodded before looking around at the diminished crew. A few were stealing glances at her, and with the way she appeared now; the white cloak covering her body, her hood drawn over her features, and small wisps of her silver hair protruding from the corners of the material, she looked almost ghostly in the low light of the night.
Wrapping her good hand around the rail she dug her heels in defiantly and stared forwards, breathing steadily and stewing in her thoughts.
"Yurin…" she said almost wistfully, "bring me some wine."
He furrowed his brow and stood quietly before finally asking,
"Uh… where might I find some?"
Without turning from her vigil, she pointed her bandaged left hand towards the deck,
"Asada's cabin. Also," she laughed, "Take something of value, anything really, from there as well… Indulge yourself."
She laughed at her words and added, "I command it."
Yurin simply let out a breath, "I'll be back as quick as I may my lady."
She nodded before mumbling to herself again, "Much good those muscles did you huh? You wretch…"
The she-elf sniggered and Yurin turned to descend back below, somewhat uneasy at her order.
…
When Yurin came to the deck again he brought an uncorked, round, green-glass bottle that he had found near the captain's hammock. It smelt like wine, but… He wasn't really one for anything but unfermented drinks. A teetotaller his whole life, Yurin had been discouraged from drinking throughout his extensive studies and he wasn't about to start now… Especially aboard a ship!
'Hopefully it's good enough for her.' He thought vainly.
Raveres didn't even regard the bottle when she took it from her retainer's hand. She simply took a long swig and returned her gaze forwards, across the breaking waves and rolling sea.
"And what did you claim?" she eventually asked.
Yurin furrowed his brow uncomfortably before putting his hand in his pocket. For him it had felt somewhat wrong to take from Asada… but he had insulted Raveres. And… well, he was dead. Pulling a silver length of chain from his trousers he showed off his first piece of loot ever. She smirked and gave the necklace a once over before returning her eyes to the bow.
"Not a bad acquisition… I was imagining you'd take a book or two."
Yurin returned the chain to his pocket and chuckled nervously, "Well he didn't have anything that was interesting. Most were logs, or dull low-reading."
Raveres took another swig and hissed in satisfaction, repeating his words,
"Dull low-reading…" She nodded, "You're a curious sort Yurin."
He smiled at the compliment and stood at her side as time marched on. Occasionally Raveres would ask Yurin a question or two and he would then scurry along to Dahi, or to one of the crewmen which she had indicated to repeat it for her, but for the most part the morning was quiet, and even somewhat awkward.
There were some low conversations and jokes amid the crewmen, but a tension hung in the air and Yurin couldn't quite put his finger on it. Hours passed until finally, from the high crow's nest a voice called down. Raveres needed no translation and her eyes lit up as a wry smile came across her lips, even though the man spoke Arabyan to her it truly sounded like Druhir and she heard, 'Land-ho' as clear as day.
The awkwardness and tension turned into anticipation and reserved excitement and Raveres moved as if she wasn't injured at all, her sudden leaving of the rail and throwing of the bottle into the sea made Yurin jump to keep up with her. Climbing the helm, she began speaking to Dahi and he stared at her intensely, bowing to her command and imposing visage.
Prince Balik was passed out against the rail at the back corner of the quarterdeck, a blanket drawn over him in a rather welcome comical sight.
"Yurin, I shall lead the boat ashore, you, and only the strongest men shall accompany."
He nodded and repeated the words to the acting captain.
"I will tolerate neither insubordination nor any thievery."
Dahi nodded and gulped at the words after they were rendered into Arabyan. Subconsciously he was feared at anything she was to do if her commands were not heeded. One of Balik's retainers woke him and hastily explained what was happening. His face lit up and he smiled as he looked at Raveres and was helped to his feet.
Nodding her head in reserved acknowledgement the Druchii continued,
"Tell them that I shall amply reward them, better than Sadalsuud would."
Men began to crowd at the stairs and listen. Raveres turned and acknowledged them as she raised her voice, now addressing the ship. Yurin followed suit while repeating her words.
"Whatever lies within this trove is mine by rights, yet each man shall receive this Druchii's word that I shall reward you all."
Raveres' lips smirked.
"Gold and glory!" she cried.
Yurin repeated the exclamation and the crew happily repeated it, their earlier apprehension and discomfort now gone.
…
The small island chain grew closer and closer, yet in the back of Raveres' mind she became more apprehensive.
'What if the waves have claimed it?'
The largest of the islands was the one indicated on the pirate's chart, and now, looking at it off its coast it resembled like the worn and broken remnants of a volcanic mountain. Once mighty and imposing, now a ruin and eroded by the menace of the years.
'Naggaryth…' Raveres thought.
With a shudder she remembered the esteemed stories she was raised on of their enchanted and lost homeland. It too was torn asunder and claimed by the seas, but unlike this small archipelago it was still somewhat occupied. She gritted her teeth in a learned reflex as she remembered her father speaking about the 'Shadow King'; Alith Anar and of his Naggarythi. Years of lectures came back in a flurry as she heard her father's voice describe the splendour and beauty that was once the Druchii cradle…
'It is now ruled as a ruin by those usurpers.' he had said.
Yet a twinge of doubt followed these memories, and she thought,
'It was so long ago it's almost as if it never had happened…'
Raveres' courage grew as she dared to think; 'You weren't even born yet father! Centuries keep even us parted from that place… and centuries more I should expect…'
She shook her head and tried to steady herself, somewhat uneasy at her own seditious and nearly sinful thoughts. It was well known that to bring up anything negative about the sundering, the loss and exile of the Druchii; it was sure to draw the ire of someone within earshot… The likelihood being they had actually been there.
'But…' Raveres thought.
'How much time had passed since her people's exile?'
Her father was over two hundred years old… Maybe even three, and how old was her mother? The sundering was several millennia before that.
'Barring very few famous Druchii, there were probably not many first-generation members of Malekith's followers left.'
She cringed and held her side as a wave of nausea and a headache came over her.
'Gah, tediousness without end!' she complained.
Looking to her side at Yurin she couldn't help but smirk, 'Probably right up his line of interest I suspect.'
The retainer saw her glance at him out of the corner of his eye and perked up, asking; "My lady?"
She pointed forwards at the islands, "Mathlaan has not taken it… yet. It will be fine… it will all be fine."
Yurin nodded and offered, "Dahi says that there's a perfect shoal to anchor in, just at that landing there."
He stepped closer and in the low light pointed towards a finger of land stretching out to the left of the broad sandbar ahead. She nodded,
"Make the longboats ready. I do not wish to spend any more time than necessary here."
"Understood my lady"
…
As the Arabyans lowered the dhow's larger longboat into the water off the side of their vessel Raveres strode to the edge of the ship and the men bowed their heads as she passed. Their deference gave her pause and when she turned to her right the first man bowed his head even lower. She smirked and enjoyed the confidence that their attitude gave her. Looking ahead she saw that the island's shore was dotted with large rocks amid strangely dark coloured sand.
'Those may make re-embarking a hassle… especially with the chests so laden with plunder…'
As the boat descended to the calm waters the men began rowing them ashore, finally coming so close to the trove Raveres' avarice began to swell and her elvish eyes began to glimmer. Nearing the coast a few of the men leapt out of the boat and helped guide it up onto the island. It smelt like rotten fish, and the circling seagulls did not stand as an encouraging omen.
But Raveres rolled her shoulders and grunted as she stepped over the side of the boat and onto dry land. The men who'd been selected to accompany her watched as she lowered herself and extended her hand into the sand. Taking up a handful of wet grains she squeezed it and roared,
"I have claimed this island! Let us now claim my riches!"
Yurin translated and the crew laughed and cheered as Raveres stomped up the beach and towards a well-trod path. The only plant life on the archipelago was some sparse tropical shrubs and a thick grass which grew where there was enough soil under the sand. The small path led them across the spine of the small island towards the large 'mountain' which made up its centre.
Protruding out of the rock face was a rough-hewn entrance. Raveres began breathing shallowly and smiling as she stepped towards the small cave.
"Yurin…"
He nodded, and she continued,
"I haven't any idea of what to expect, but any chests with this symbol upon it are from my ship."
She pulled her amulet of Khaine into view. The retainer nodded. Waving the crew behind her along Raveres led the way and they entered the chamber. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the low ambient light of the morning filtering into the cave It looked like rows of coffins stacked on one another.
She saw the elvish chests her former crew, under Dorath's orders, carved Khaine's sigil into marking them as now theirs. But among these taken from her ship she saw it. And she couldn't help from smiling. This smile and her eyes widened when her gaze met the most familiar container out of all of them.
Stepping down into the depression of the cave's hoard she stepped past the pirate crates, ignoring them as she pressed on towards the thick black-oak, iron barded, Druchii chest. Its lid was embossed with her family's crest and its lock was missing.
'Just as I left it…' she scoffed in disbelief, excitement flooding her veins that her effects had survived the sinking of the Witches Wail.
"Though" she commented lowly, "Only if they were stowed away"
She sneered, "I'm sure that whore made off with anything of value…"
The men stood at the entrance to the cave, quietly speaking amongst one another as Yurin corralled them and told them to wait. Reaching her good hand towards the lid Raveres paused for a moment before opening the chest. Her heart thundered and she felt hope nagging at the back of her mind.
Lifting the heavy wooden lid up she beamed an eager smile at the sight of the rest of her armour. Though it had been gone through and obviously ransacked, her letters, a few of her smaller boxes, and most importantly, for the moment, her castle-forged plate remained.
Tucked at the side of the chest, under the loose parchment and empty comb box, the familiar black and silver of the Naguii armour looked up at her. Moving the parchment, scrolls, and empty boxes out of the way revealed her left gauntlet, vambraces, pauldrons, cuisse, and greaves. They were untied of their corresponding halves but each piece seemed to be there, she smiled and thought of her armourer back home,
'Gods bless you Riccard… You big Norscan bastard!'
Slamming the chest closed she pointed down to it, and spoke,
"This one first! Get it away and to my cabin!"
Stepping away from her trunk she came beside one of the elvish chests. Yurin nodded and relayed her orders and two men stepped forwards and came into the cave stepping past the pirate's trove towards her chest. Raveres raised her right leg and took aim before kicking the lid of the stolen elvish container open. She let out a low howl at the appearance of glittering coins and bullion.
The treasure looked up at her with its unmarred allure. She took a handful and raised it in view of the men. They all began ravenously jeering and laughing. Throwing the coins at the men they let loose a torrent of cheering as they caught and dropped to the floor to collect the fallen treasure.
"Yurin, get as many as will fit into the longboat!"
The retainer looked at the depth of the chest with wide eyes and an open mouth. Calculating the amount of the whole trove, his face paled. Ripping his eyes away from the chests he stared at Raveres. She had just become the richest creature he'd ever met. The sheer material wealth that was contained in the elvish chests would have put her at the same level as Emir Hashan or Sadalsuud, but along with the rest?
"M-my lady…"
She stepped nearer another chest and opened it with a kick.
"What is it Yurin?"
He shook his head as the men lifted her personal chest out and passed their waiting fellows. The men eagerly compared coins and felt their weights, laughing excitedly and distracted by their pay. The retainer stepped closer to her and lowered his voice, even though they were speaking Druhir.
"W-we can't trust… I mean… you cannot trust these men's loyalty! Th-this is neigh unbelievable!"
She furrowed her brow before smirking.
"You worry unnecessarily Yurin."
He opened his mouth and shook, perplexed.
"My lady, forgive me, but I think I worry just the right amount!"
With an evil smile Raveres raised a brow, "How many crewmen do we have here and aboard the ship?"
Furrowing his brow Yurin paused before answering, his voice low,
"Nearly thirty… fewer if we don't count Prince Balik."
"How much do you think I would have to promise to buy the loyalty of these men?"
Yurin balked and stood still, open mouthed as he tried to think.
"Let's say one full chest?"
Yurin looked at the trove and began counting.
'Three… six… nine, twelve!' he blinked and brought his hand to rub his cheek.
"T-they can count too my lady!"
She looked past Yurin and pointed to the chests, non-verbally indicating the men were to begin lifting them. The men began a train, carrying three chests after the first one of her personal effects. Stepping back towards the entrance Raveres bowed out and down the path back to the boat as Yurin followed.
"We shall fill the boat and then row back to the ship. I imagine five maybe six chests shall fit." She paused and added, "Tell them."
The retainer nodded and translated the message. Nodding Raveres resumed her walking, her cloak flowing behind her eerily as she began cackling. The laugh grew in volume and she began howling as she came to the shore and saw the first two men loading her chest aboard the longboat. The reality of it all came to roost and she bore her expression plainly, no longer hiding her plain excitement and happiness.
Raveres and Yurin rowed ashore with eight men. The rowboat could have held more, but the Druchii had erred on the side of caution. As the men followed them towards the boat with their cargo, they began hefting the plunder-laden crates aboard the small boat.
It groaned under the weight and Raveres raised a brow,
"We've too many men Yurin."
He nodded as he visualised just how full the ship would be.
"We'll have to do two trips…" he agreed.
She shook her head and stepped forwards, "No… One trip shall suffice."
The retainer furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to respond when she interrupted him,
"I shall tell you my tentative plan Yurin. As you are the only one who speaks my tongue, and," she laughed, "since you are bound to me by oath you are as good a confidant as I should want."
He shut his mouth and nodded as the men laughed and directed one another.
"I will take only these few chests. With them I shall pay Sadalsuud and establish my original mission. With what else remains from my agreement with the merchant I seek to purchase the fleetest ship in the harbour as well as only the barest number of slaves for crew."
He nodded along.
"I need to be rid of that prince… and these men, you are correct, they cannot be trusted."
Raveres brought a hand to her chin as she thought aloud,
"I'd sooner have them all carrion than let them go knowing what lies on this island… Despite their faux worship of me,"
Yurin's eyes widened in disbelief as Raveres let out a sigh admitting,
"My greed has made me too hasty."
Then she furrowed her brow and growled,
"And now I am to race against the sands of time in this regard…"
Raveres pursed her lips and the retainer remained motionless as she thought. She nodded once to herself and turned around to the men. Raveres motioned one of the men towards her and he smiled widely before bowing his head and approaching.
With a swift crash of her right hand to his face she surprised him with a strike and then kicked him over. The scruffy man fell to the sand, yelping in surprise as Raveres drew her sword, and brought it to his neck, so fast that none of the men had realised yet what had happened.
They jumped forwards off the boat dropping chests and reaching for their own hilts. Maintaining her blade on the man's chest she loudly declared,
"Yurin, tell them I need one of their number's blood."
She tilted her head to the side as the men looked at her with confusion, betrayal, and anger.
"If any of them wish to take his place I will gladly let them do so."
Yurin stuttered as he translated. The men looked at one another before staring at their fellow on the ground. He coughed and screamed to them for aid, but they paused and stared uneasily at Raveres.
"None noble among you I see?"
She pushed the tip of her blade into his neck, plain faced.
"No matter"
He screamed and struggled as the steel cut through his flesh and he sputtered before groaning and gurgling on his own blood. Staring back at the men Raveres made an unflinching display of her resolve. The man twitched and when he finally stopped moving, she withdrew her blade from his neck.
Raveres flicked the blood off her sword and stepped forwards, straightening her back and taking a calm breath. The men looked at their fallen comrade, then her, and then each other.
Greed
'More commanding than pain to some…' She thought with a smirk.
The men who had earlier just been laughing and smacking one another triumphantly, now stood quietly, watching their new lord with reserved and gloomy expressions.
…
After throwing their comrade's body into the water they looked at Raveres with fear and dread in their features. Yurin quietly followed along as she told them to grab two more chests. When the longboat was loaded, they began rowing the heavy, creaking, vessel back towards the ship.
The seagulls overhead circled around the body and she eyed them with disdain as she thought,
'I told Mathlaan that I'd give him his due…'
Raveres smirked privately, and sat atop one of the chests. 'Bear me swiftly to my goal and I shall sing your praises again.' Yurin sat below her at the fore of the small boat, his features were pursed and his expression uneasy as he drew in uneven breaths.
When they returned aboard the dhow Raveres let out a sigh of satisfaction and began speaking for Yurin to translate, she made it plain she had killed one of them on the island, and warned that she'd not hesitate to do the same, or have the same done to any others who may have designs upon her fortune.
Suffice it to say the men looked at the Druchii, awash with fear and dismay, their heroine had shown them something which made them all pause, now they didn't know how to view her…
"We'll load the chests and leave them here on the deck. When the last is aboard I shall give the crew their due."
Dahi and Samahd eyed Raveres, unable to think of what they could do in retaliation. They were chosen to serve under Asada specifically because they had no courage to challenge him. Yet Asada was physically imposing and had well known history of breaking men in battle, he never had to slice a man open in front of them to prove he could do it…
Raveres however, disregarded Sir Jean's earlier lesson about leading gently.
'Perhaps in a different place and with different stakes,' She thought, 'but I will take no chances here old man. These men are but rats and for now they are only necessary so long as they keep still of thieving.'
So, the two men, official representatives of the Emir, who, by rights, should have taken command nonverbally ceded nearly all authority to Raveres.
"Yurin, ensure those men receive what I promised."
He nodded as she indicated the men who'd come with them to the island.
"And tell Dahi and Samahd to deal out the pay to the crew, with a bonus."
She stepped towards the stairs below and waved Prince Balik to follow.
"Is that wise my lady?"
"Those men would sooner piss themselves than cross me."
She turned and raised a brow, "Tell them and then follow me below, I must speak with the prince."
…
"Balik says that he'll help you." Yurin said somewhat wearily.
She grinned widely and bowed her head.
"Excellent."
The prince turned to his last living retainer and spoke with him. They were in the captain's cabin and Raveres looked over Annio's chart, studying and committing its latitudes to memory. Just in case. She thought with a grimace. When she had finished scrutinising the paper, she pointed at it and rose away from the table saying,
"Yurin, roll this up and defend it with your life."
The young man gulped and nodded before complying. Politely nodding her head to the prince, Raveres stepped out of the room, she'd ensured the security of the cargo aboard the ship as well as made promises to Prince Balik she'd be an ally for him having 'saved' her after the battle.
Stepping into her cabin she closed her door and looked down happily at her returned personal trunk. Opening its lid, she re-read one of her parent's letters and nodded. Resolution burned in her chest more than the pain of her wounds and she threw off the white cloak.
Pushing the refuse within her lightened chest aside she began taking out the pieces of her full set of armour. Riccard had neglected sabatons when he was packing, as well as a helm, but everything else, coupled with her cuirass and right gauntlet was more than enough.
'Ample material…' she agreed with herself.
With only her right hand being functional Raveres sat on the floor of her cabin and cleaned her armour, ritualistically. A smirk grew across her features she began whistling a tune, focusing only on what was to come.
'Sadalsuud…' she nearly hissed, 'I wonder what designs he had'
She nodded, "A great test is ahead"
Her heart fluttered, 'What if he reneges?"
Snarling Raveres shook her head and the fear was dispelled,
"He will not… shut up you little girl."
'Kill the girl,' She thought, 'with the death of that man on the beach… killing Annio, those crewmen? This is it… No longer am I to look back!'
"Raveres, the stupid maid, is well and truly dead."
She sniggered and looked at her ruined hand, the pain of her ripped nails burned with a sudden intensity and she dropped her greave to the floor.
"If that bastard dares to rebuke me?" she laughed slowly, "I'm sure a replacement could be found…"
The excitement, the sheer magnitude of her victory couldn't be ignored and her chuckle rose in volume until it became a deep, satisfied, laugh. She shut her eyes and threw her hands above her head before falling backwards to the wood of the floor.
Laying back she whispered amidst her growing laughter,
"I did it? I did it! I truly have the gods on my side… I did it!"
She cackled and rolled from side to side; euphoric and now painless as she relished the total control and golden triumph, she was the sole recipient of.
"I've just made my family the richest in all of Blacklight!" she scoffed and shivered, "I'm the richest Druchii outside of the Black Court!"
She shook her head from side to side, blinding herself with stray strands of her hair, as she continued to laugh,
"And it's mine!"
"I won!" she shook her head, and arched her neck, "And no one, no one! Not that prince, that Sadalsuud, those monks, the knight… none of them can bring me down in this moment."
Several minutes passed before she calmed and her laughter sputtered out. A venomous surge of fraternal envy rose in her mouth and she hissed aloud,
"Fuck Malith! Raiding, and fighting those skin-stealers in the northern oceans… Oh 'I'm the first born, I'll sail the whole world to make my name!'"
She began to sour as memories of her eldest sibling came to roost. So much older than her, she only had very vague memories of when he still lived in Blacklight. Though she was so young at the time she did remember, vividly, how much she disliked her brother's bride.
She snarled; his wife was just like him… 'Her eyes… her hair, even her height! They could have easily been mistaken for twins.'
Raveres groaned in revulsion, 'Perhaps that's why they sought each other? They're so obsessed with their own vanity no one else would have been worth of them but themselves.'
"Gah! Why'd I have to go and think about that?"
Moving her hair from off her brow she sat back up and looked down at her bandage covered torso.
"Fucking ruined the mood…"
The smell was irritating and she wanted it off her skin but she felt the itchy sensation of healing and repairing flesh.
"But, soon enough…" she commented.
With a strange eagerness she looked forwards to her return to Al Daouk,
"First, I must dress my plate…" she nodded sarcastically, "For I ought to look the part of a conqueror."
Combing her hair with her fingers and closing her eyes Raveres centred herself and drew steady breaths as she ritualistically tied up her locks into a high ponytail. Then slowly she went about fixing her armour to her body. It'd been so long since she'd worn all of her plate…
'Wait' she thought, pausing before tightening her greave 'I don't think I've worn it all at once since leaving home.'
She smirked and shook her head, chuckling dryly.
"I shan't lose you again…" she affirmed aloud.
Finishing with her left leg she began with her right. Having only one hand made everything a little more difficult than it should be, but she wanted to do it on her own… She had to do it alone, so she could have the satisfaction of appearing in her dread splendour and seeing everyone's face pale.
When her legs were encased and the armour tightly fit, she stood and reached for her damaged cuirass. Though it was punctured it still looked the part and with the whole ensemble she'd give any of these men pause if they even dared to think about crossing her.
Lifting the chest armour around her body she cringed when it touched her wounds, letting out a sigh as she steeled herself and resolved to power through. Fixing the two halves of the cuirass closed she drew on her vambraces, and then her gauntlets. Though her left hand was bandaged, and even lightly hitting it against something hurt, she had to give no indication of weakness.
Pain… A reminder of life and one of her greatest motivators Letting out a muffled groan she drew the gauntlet on her left hand until it was flush with the vambrace. After a short while she was encased in her full plate.
The last thing she pulled from her chest was a purple and white sash; her family's colours. Throwing it over her left shoulder she affixed its clasp to a small buckle on her cuirass and let it fall down her back.
The simple dressing of coloured cloth came to about the bottom of the cuirass and moved with each motion she made. She nodded and drew in a deep breath.
"Now…" she exhaled and smirked sadistically, "my crew."
…
"Okay, you remember what the plan is right?" Sir Finise asked, his voice was uneasy, as he looked at the gruff and intimidating brigand.
The Arabyan said something to his fellows before answering in his heavily accented Bretonnian.
"Aye, we've done similar work iron man."
Finise furrowed his brow, "Well… this'll only work if your men are all going to be professional about it."
The large mercenary chuckled and took a swig of his ale, commenting and utterly changing the conversation as he said,
"You know… you are the odd man out of your fellows."
Sir Finise stood from his seat and looked towards the exit of the small tavern. The brigand offered a conciliatory tone and asked,
"Have I offended you?" quickly.
The man offered a false smile, "My apologies Sir knight."
"Enough of this…" Finise complained, taking a small leather pouch from his belt he dropped it to the table.
"There's the middle third, as we agreed. The last of your payment shall be rendered upon competition of the overall mission. Make noise, make a mess, but don't get lost in the melee, we need that gate open for our horses."
The man nodded, "Fear not iron one…"
He smacked his chest,
"Haridah has never let a patron down!"
He hefted his ale into the air and gave a battle cry, which was swiftly echoed by his men. The staff of the tavern looked on with wry smiles at the mass of sweaty brawlers and drinking sell-swords. Sir Finise nodded to Haridah and stepped towards the exit, throwing a coin onto the barmaid's tray.
Stepping out of the building he turned towards the harbour to resume his vigil.
'By the Lady this is folly…' he complained.
Adjusting his belt, he saw two fellow Bretonnians moving through a crowd as they walked down the street. Widening his eyes Sir Finise turned around and sprinted back to the tavern's door,
"I have to tell Tormande!"
The building was, on the one half, a tavern and the other, a flesh-house. Finise leapt past the carousing mercenaries, much to their jeering entertainment, and made for the thick doorway which parted the loud and boisterous drinking hall from the more subdued den of prostitution.
"Sir Tormande!" he cried.
The matron furrowed her brow and stood from her small desk in the corner of the room,
"Get that drunk out of here!" she roared.
Two eunuch guards nodded their bald heads and set towards the intruder. Dodging through the men's grasp Sir Finise sprinted up the stairs of the room causing girls and women to dart out of his way, and recently satisfied customers to yell out in surprise as he nearly pushed them.
"Gah! Sir Tormande!"
He began banging on the first portal in the upper hall and then started leaping from door to door, trying to locate his superior.
"They're returned! The knight and the boy!"
One of the doors he'd just banged on opened and the grizzled features of Tormande Gilayne came into view. Furrowing his brow, he at first appeared angry, but then Finise repeated himself and the black knight's features grew into a perverse smile.
"Get Cratoun! I'll be ready in a moment."
Finise nodded and then darted back down the hall as the eunuch guardsmen and on looking patrons furrowed their brows and spoke one another in confusion. Slapping his whore across her breasts Tormande pointed to his discarded armour,
"Play at my squire woman…"
She raised a brow and moved to better look at her lover.
"Ask me nicely." She responded coyly.
Tormande opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to his molars as he let out a breath and shook his head.
"Now is not the time woman! Dress me."
Her playful attitude melted as she furrowed her brow, Tormande was always a rough man… but he'd never looked at her as he just had. But she knew she did not like it. She wanted to spit at his voice. Pointing to her boudoir she spitefully responded as she rose from the bed,
"Time's up Tormande. Dress yourself."
Flicking her fingers in his direction he seethed at the non-verbal insult, but shook his head and descended to begin putting his trousers on. He hadn't the time to redress her boldness. She stepped towards the edge of the room and disappeared from view behind a dressing screen.
'The knight and the boy…' he thought happily, 'and so soon too…'
Despite his lover's insolence the prospect of getting the knight and squire now was too good to pass up, dressing with a sadistic smile across his stubble-covered face Tormande nearly shivered in excitement.
…