The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part III: Debts to be Paid
Episode Twenty-Three
Yurin stood at the chamber door for a few moments after his mistress had dismissed him. He could hear her muffled speech as she began,
"You are each newly mine…"
Her voice was strange, and even though it was stifled by the wood of the door, he could tell that it was put on. She was acting. And what was most odd was that she used a tone of voice he'd never heard from her yet.
Furrowing his brow and blinking he turned and looked at the slave's chests to the right of the doorway. With a sigh he eventually stepped back from the portal.
'She had ordered me to eat… and rest…'
Walking down the carpeted hallway he began the trek through the palace's twists and turns to his own private quarters in the servant's wing. Chuckling to himself he mused,
'Hopefully that Wick'tus hasn't had my affects thrown from the nearest balcony yet…'
Somewhat relaxing his shoulders Yurin nodded and thought aloud,
"Some food, water, and sitting on a cushion would actually be quite nice right about now…"
Moving his right hand behind him he rubbed at his glutes through his trousers,
"Gods, that horses' saddle was about as comfortable as a rock…"
Nodding to himself and quickening his pace he became more resolved to 'relaxing', he wasn't 'at ease' by any stretch of the imagination; not after everything he'd seen, heard… or even he himself had done…
But that fatigue hadn't yet set in. He was still in 'work' mode, and a lifetime of acting as a servant had provided Yurin with compartmentalisation skills second to none.
Finding the stair to the servant's wing he began descending the familiar cool sandstone flight. Memories of his fighting came to him in a muddled haze,
"Guess I'm a man now…" he shuddered.
Holding the hilt of his longer blade he drew it enough to see a fingers' width of shining steel. Staring at the deadly implement he let out a heavy breath.
"I've a feeling I'll get better at it the longer I serve this Druchii…"
Looking away from the sword and ahead he resumed his descent as further scenes and moments from the days previous began coming to him in increasing clarity.
As he came to the landing of the servant's quarters, he whispered to himself in affirmation; "That poor boy…"
…
"Prince Balik! Behind you!" a man roared.
Pushing away the foe he was currently engaged with the prince tried to turn around as another mercenary slashed at him with a scimitar.
Shuffling as best he could the slash missed its target, his neck, and instead opened a wound across his shoulder, right in between the defensive layers of his leather and scale pauldron and his scarf-padded throat.
He roared in pain and staggered to better see his new assailant, cursing him he growled;
"Gah! Demons take you, you cunt!"
Stumbling from between the two mercenaries Prince Balik raised his sword as a voice near him cried in a foreign tongue.
The man who had attacked the prince from behind became distracted as two new riders joined the fray, almost from nowhere they barrelled through the sandy dust clouds of the melee at full gallop, swords gleaming and drawn.
Taking opportunity of this reinforcement's arrival Prince Balik drove his sword upwards and killed the mercenary. The other man whom he was previously duelling with jumped back at him with a cry and they resumed their fight.
A flash of silver steel glinted beside Balik as one of the riders tore past him; it struck the mercenary across the face and very surely saved the prince's life. As the mercenary fell back, slain, Balik was able to look up and see through the gold and red sands who his incidental saviour was.
The man atop the horse was actually not a man at all, and the princes' eyes widened in familiarity. His clothes were dishevelled and filthy, his hair matted with sweat and sand, but his pink skin was bright and lively, and he was small in the saddle…
The squire!
Chuckling through his pain the prince nodded and tried to hail the young Breton as he wheeled around and continued fighting.
Yet the boy was not alone!
A woman was a-horse and had followed him into the fray; wielding a scimitar she skilfully slashed and shot down attacks on either side of her steed.
Switching his sword to his left hand Balik clutched at his wound and surveyed the area.
With the arrival of the squire and his companion the forces of Al Daouk had won…
And now it was merely clean up, very few of the mercenaries now drew breath and the rescued citizens and labourers were clinging to the Emir's men happily, singing praises and thankful to have been delivered from such a fate.
…
Jacque turned his horse and searched for any men not bearing the Emirate's colours, but as he and Shen arrived it seemed that they'd well and truly beaten what was left of the mercenary force.
Coming to his side Shen pulled back on her reins and stopped her horse. In her left hand was her bloody sword and she smirked when she looked at the squire.
"It appears they did not need us as much as you had feared."
Pursing his lips Jacque nodded.
"R-regardless, I could not leave those in need wanting…"
She let out a quiet chuckle, in agreement. The Master of Horse, Rakesh Debi, was still mounted and issued orders to his men before his eyes came over the two 'reinforcements'.
He smiled wryly before riding closer, wiping his bloody weapon off on his tunic's sleeve he sheathed the weapon and brought his hand to his head and down in a greeting.
"Boy! You are the young squire, yes?"
His accent was thick but Jacque understood him well enough.
Nodding happily, he answered, "I am, indeed."
He smiled, and risked cheek, as he asked, "Why? Were you looking for me?"
The man chuckled and looked around them at the carnage they'd wrought.
"Aye… the she-elf had men searching the whole city for you."
Looking back, he noticed Shen atop the horse and furrowed his brow, before he could say anything Jacque interjected hastily,
"We're to head back to the city now, yes?"
His voice dripped with youth, but sounded strangely mature. The Master of Horse nodded and barked an order to one of his nearby men. The soldier clopped closer, panting and his stubbled face dripping with sweat, grime, and blood.
They exchanged a few words and then Rakesh turned back to the odd pair.
"We shall set back as soon as we are able; I hope to tell those riders there to fuck themselves, ha!"
Looking to where he had indicated Jacque and Shen saw the approaching heralds of Al-Haikk.
Remounting his camel Prince Balik groaned and held his hand stiffly to his wound but he rounded and set closer to Rakesh, Jacque, and Shen. Wincing and smiling through his pain.
Jacque's eyes widened when he saw the prince, and the two shared a moment of affirmation.
Rakesh chuckled again, "This battle is now done? Eh?"
Jacque looked around, but Shen maintained a wary gaze on the men.
"We shall tend to our people and then begin back for the city."
One of the riders behind them was corralling and whipping at some injured captured mercenaries. Laughing Rakesh taunted and yelled at the prisoners, turning back to announce,
"It is well we have live ones! Justice shall be done upon the bastards."
Nodding and letting out a heavy breath he continued,
"After all that has happened the people need to see something which shall lift their spirits."
Before he could speak Jacque was interrupted as Prince Balik and Rakesh began chatting to one another. Shen wiped off her sword, but kept it drawn.
"Is the man atop the camel a friend of yours?"
Jacque turned and raised a brow, "Well… not exactly. But we were companions."
She hid a knowing smirk, before asking "He's the Pauper Prince, yes?"
Jacque let out a breathy scoff as he looked over at the man again.
Balik's fine silks and armour was scuffed and dirtied, his face filthy with sand and lines of sweat, his extravagant and haughty attitude when he had boarded Raveres' vessel seemed ages ago now… And he seemed utterly changed from then.
"Aye…"
Looking past the men the squire saw the upended carts, the dying horses, and the injured people.
With a breath of weariness, the squire announced;
"Looks like we may be here a while Shen…"
Turning to his side he watched as the woman let out a sigh and sheathed her weapon.
"If we are… then I suppose we must help, no?"
Lifting her leg over the side of her horse she swiftly slid from the saddle. Letting out a heavy and breathy chuckle in agreement Jacque nodded and began climbing down from his horse as well. The sand kicked up from the fighting was dying down, but the sun overhead wasn't about to cease its relentless and scorching heat.
"By the Lady…" he whispered under his breath.
Distracted by the multitude of things going on around him the Master of Horse set to other matters and merely gave Jacque and Shen an appreciative nod.
Setting his spurs to horse he began riding around the small battlefield yelling to his men and coordinating their efforts.
The heralds of Al-Haikk were getting nearer.
Helping the wounded to their feet Jacque and Shen joined the soldiers and freed citizens tending to their fellows.
"You're too good for your own sake," Shen said to the boy teasingly.
She and Jacque were aiding a wounded widow to her feet. Her arm had been broken in the cart's crash and she was crying with gratitude. Loudly thanking them as they helped her from the bed of the upturned cart.
Smirking privately Jacque ignored Shen's comment and instead focused on their new 'mission'. And a familiar voice gave him courage, 'Aiding those in need is always knightly my boy.'
…
Once the rescue mission had regrouped, and Master Rakesh had relayed his message to the Al-Haikk riders they set themselves into a column and began the slow march down the desert highway to Al Daouk…
Water was shared from among the riders to their people, and they were able to reuse at least one of the carts to transport the women, children, and injured.
The men also had corralled the horses of the dead and those which'd survived the cart's crashing. And now the informal train moved at a snails' pace back 'home'.
Rakesh and his men kept watchful eyes and maintained constant motion along the edges of the column, weary and apprehensive for any sudden raids by real slavers…
Though as they travelled, and time wore on Jacque finally broke the monotony and turned to his new woman-companion, his curiosity finally having gotten the better of him.
"So, Shen… you know where I come from…" he shook his head and scoffed, "by the Lady you even speak my language!"
The squire laughed uncomfortably, his adrenaline and confidence having waned since they worked with and helped so many people. Raising a brow, the oriental woman quietly watched as he finished his question.
"So… where is it you're fleeing from?"
She pursed her lips and her expression hardened,
"I am not fleeing from anywhere little Breton."
Furrowing his brow in confusion Jacque was about to pipe up when she continued,
"Strange that I'd flee after coming into company of such colourful heroes, no?"
She looked out of the corner of her eyes at the squire and eventually his dull mind understood. He'd no aptitude for intrigue, but he now wanted to smack himself as he thought,
'Who knows who's listening! Oh gods, you fool…'
Smirking Shen let out a breath,
"Anyway, I am looking forwards to meeting this she-elf, which the captain mentioned."
She pointed her left hand and indicated Rakesh, "A companion of yours?" she smiled.
"Had men scouring the whole city for you?" her voice rose as she teased.
Jacque's face reddened and he looked away, embarrassed,
"S-surely after finding Sir Jean she was… it's…" he shook his head, "A-a curtesy! A debt to my lord father…"
His eyes widened as he said the combination of words. Shen smirked and nodded,
"Now… I've never had the pleasure of meeting one." She chuckled, "An elf that is… But I have heard the most extraordinary tales of them. Such strange behaviours and manners…"
She chuckled and shook her head as she looked ahead.
"And you've befriended one?"
Shen continued her cute high-pitched laughed, "I must hear that tale."
Jacque's cheeks reddened and he couldn't help but smile as he tried to play off the words.
"I…I…" he stuttered and cleared his throat, "Well… I saved her life…"
Thinking aloud he furrowed his brow, "I suppose she was merely trying to… even the scales."
The woman beside him leant back in her saddle, "My, my! You must regale this young knight."
Smirking in embarrassment the squire began to explain how he and the noble lady Raveres came to meet. He told of Sir Jean as well, at length, and he gave a condensed account of the whole of his journey so far. It was strangely cathartic and with each sentence weight was relieved from his shoulders and his heart… as if he were revealing guilt- no, no… secrets.
Shen sat quietly atop her mount, nodding along and listening as the young Bretonnian shared his tale. When he had finished, she bowed her head solemnly and offered condolence,
"Once again I am grieved to hear of your lord knight's death."
Jacque pursed his lips and thanked her quietly. After a few quiet moments of trotting along Shen spoke up again,
"But this she-elf you rescued, she seems a strange type, no?"
Jacque had neglected to mention that Raveres was a Druchii. While Shen had said she was ignorant of elves, the young squire didn't find an appropriate way to mention where his former companion hailed from.
"Aye, she's… short tempered certainly… but I chalk it up to her presence in a foreign land and the loss of her crew and mission."
He shook his head,
"I think after what I just went through…" nodding quietly he finished, "I can appreciate her position far better…"
Shen smirked and watched as Jacque looked back up, his eye glinting with a strange confidence. The two shared conversation about more banal topics, and before the woman could ask about the logistics of their arrival to the city and how Jacque was to make good on his word, dark clouds began forming to the south.
"Sandstorm!" became the resounding cry all up and down the line.
Widening his eyes Jacque looked to Shen and then to Rakesh, as the stern officer bellowed, "Group together! Cover yourselves!" he ordered.
Waving his right arm outwards the Master of Horse cried "Rally to me!"
As the loud thunderous noise began to sweep over the road Jacque pressed his right hand in a fist to his heart as he quietly prayed.
"Lady protect us…"
…
The sandstorm raged throughout the afternoon and into the night. Only when the moon was high in the clear, star dotted, sky did it finally end. It was awkward, but under the riding cloaks which they'd take from the saddlebags of their horses, Jacque and Shen became strangely intimate.
Steeling himself and repeating memorised prayers of strength the young squire did his best not to say anything stupid. Shen, likewise, was quiet and kept her eyes closed as she occasionally hummed in meditation.
Anticipating only a brief storm the two remained quiet as the wind howled and battered them. But eventually time wore on and the minutes turned into hours, until the darkness under their cover had melted away and blended into the night.
At some point, leaning against his new companion for support, the young squire had fallen asleep. And when Captain Rakesh kicked at Jacque's booted feet to rouse him, the Bretonnian woke with a start. The Master of Horse laughed,
"Come now little Breton…
He extended his hand, "To your feet. We must likewise rouse the rest of our force."
Clearing his throat, the gruff and mature captain continued louder,
"We're a long way from our home, and far too many to adequately defend."
Nodding he continued,
"I only hope that if we make progress through the night we'll reach the city before any others find us…"
Jacque's eyes widened and he became soberly awake, 'surely those riders from Al Haikk wouldn't wish us ill?'
'Do not be so sure my son… evil always lurks to hunt those who cannot fight…'
Narrowing his brow, he looked to his sides at the mass of sleeping women and freed slaves.
Nodding Jacque looked back at Rakesh with resolve, "What must I do?"
…
Leaving behind everything and anything which would weigh the horses down the men reorganised themselves and took a child each upon their saddle, or a woman clutching to their back.
By doubling, tripling, and in some cases, with the very small children, quadrupling the passengers aboard the horses the train abandoned the cart and their impromptu shelter at the side of the road and set off for Al Daouk as quick as they were able.
As the sun soared to its zenith in the sky the mass of mounted people rounded the dunes and sandy hillocks to regard the fertile delta basin of Al Daouk.
Cheering and exclaiming in happiness to be home the freed citizens kissed and held their saviours tightly as they began a triumphant and successful parade to the mighty and familiar gates of the city.
Peasants outside the walls flocked to hail and cheer on the returning soldiers and rescued people.
Jacque's chest swelled as the people crowded around them.
Shen looked around uneasily.
And the injured Prince Balik merely clutched at his bandaged wound, pale and tired from the hard riding. He regarded the people dully, and focused forwards, quietly.
Rakesh waved his men on and spoke to the prince before he turned to Jacque, "We must arrive to the palace… Much has happened! And much must be told."
He nodded and smiled.
"Come now lad, and take heart."
At this Jacque nodded before looking to Shen. The woman had two small children riding with her, and with her left hand she kept the young passengers tightly moored to her abdomen. She nodded to the squire and the rescue party entered into the city through the great maw of the lion headed gate.
…
Yurin was sitting and enjoying a humble meal of porridge when a palace servant approached him.
"Master Yurin…" the eunuch began, "I have been sent to retrieve you and to inform your mistress."
Furrowing his brow and putting down his spoon the retainer straightened in his seat,
"Aye? Inform of what?"
The servant bowed,
"Master Rakesh Debi and his men have returned to the city. Great lord Sadalsuud is currently seeing them in the throne room."
"Were they successful?"
The eunuch nodded,
"They were able to liberate all those who still lived, and they even have many of the foul men to be made example of."
Yurin sighed and leant back.
"Indeed…"
Taking a heavy breath, he added,
"That's good… women and children mostly? That's what we had suspected they'd made off with?"
"You are correct sir…"
The way the servant trailed off made Yurin look at him with interest.
"What is it? There's more to this?"
Bowing the eunuch nodded, "The boy… the Bretonnian… he lives."
At this his eyes widened and Yurin leapt to his feet, nearly jumping past the servant towards the hall, crying aloud,
"Show me!"
…
Sitting upon his throne Sadalsuud looked down at the captured and bloodied prisoners with a scowl of utter contempt. Finally, he nodded,
"To the square with them, behead them all and display their corpses above the gates."
Rakesh then nodded and ordered his men as the prisoners were dragged from the court.
"With pleasure my lord."
Sighing and watching the men scream as they were dragged out of the palace Sadalsuud turned his attention to Jacque and his companion. Eventually the bearded man smiled and spoke as the court herald translated.
"We are glad to see you living young Bretonnian…"
"But we're sure that-"
Panting and bursting into the chamber from the servant's hall Yurin came into view. Bowing to the throne he voiced an apology before looking at Jacque. Sadalsuud nodded in affirmation.
"We're sure that there are those other than myself gladder to see you alive."
Rising from his seat the regent bowed his head at the neck to Yurin and then stepped down the stairs.
"Welcome back squire."
His voice then turned deeper and solemn, "Your knight…"
He paused as he reached the last steps of the throne.
"We've seen to him, and he now lies in wait, ready to be taken home."
He shared a hurt smile with the young man and nodded. Jacque didn't even notice, but he'd begun shaking and tears had formed in the corners of his eyes. Regarding Sadalsuud the young man felt ashamed at the envy and ill thoughts he'd had towards the merchant prince.
He felt foolish for the thoughts and jealousy he'd allowed to grow when he first met… The glances which Sadalsuud had shown to Raveres and his words of praise to the she-elf…
Could Jacque have really blamed him? And here the Arabyan was… selflessly telling the squire that Sir Jean was properly seen to…
The moment went on too long until finally finding his voice Jacque looked at the man he'd previously so intensely disliked, and let out his gratitude,
"T-thank you…"
At this Sadalsuud nodded. No translation was needed, and without another word the regent Emir stepped out of the room, his herald and several courtiers following. Yurin shook his head as he slowly approached, regarding Jacque, and the mysterious woman with him, with utter dumbfounded-ness.
"We… we thought you were dead!" he finally declared.
Jacque shook his head, "I nearly was…"
Looking up from the squire to the oriental, and so far, mute woman Yurin furrowed his brow.
"W-who is this?"
Jacque turned and Shen raised a brow.
"This is… heh; this is Shen. She helped me escape." Smiling Jacque turned back to Yurin, ", and without her, I doubt I'd have made it."
"Shen this is Yurin…"
Bowing his head at the neck the retainer took over, "Indeed, I am retainer and seneschal to Lady Raveres…"
He smiled politely, "I'm sure that the squire's told you of her already."
Shen smirked, "A little…"
Yurin nodded before looking back at Jacque.
"Well, come, come… Surely we can-"
"I'm sorry." Jacque interrupted.
"But, I've a few requests to make…"
Looking at the squire the retainer raised a brow. Drawing a breath Jacque looked at the retainer tensely.
"I've promised my companion passage to Bretonnia…" he indicated Shen and added, "As well I would like to go home… I… I've my father to bury…"
Yurin pursed his lips.
"Surely this will be on Raveres' journey home, and so a stop along the Bretonnian coast wouldn't be too great an imposition…"
Chuckling nervously the squire cleared his throat,
"W-where is she by the way? I would have sworn she'd have been with Prince Balik and Captain Rakesh? Or at the least here in Sadalsuud's court."
Yurin looked down.
"When we rode out in pursuit of the mercenaries and the… the false knights, we were of one host."
The retainer's voice lowered as he explained,
"We followed throughout the day but eventually we had to split our force… I rode with my lady after the knights, while the rest of the Emir's men went to rescue the citizens."
Shaking his head Yurin paused,
"You know we thought you dead? She though- nay, still thinks you dead."
Jacque's face reddened, "Well? Let us show her then I yet live!"
Yurin raised a hand, "Wait a moment young master Lady Raveres, she…"
Looking at Shen the retainer pursed his lips uneasily.
"It's just; she did not take the deception and lies of the black knights as best as one would have hoped…"
Jacque furrowed his brow and Shen watched on in quiet interest.
"Perhaps you might come with me to my chamber? I'll tell you all of what happened."
Jacque looked to his companion and the woman nodded, "I'm curious now myself." She said with a chuckle.
Yurin nodded and turned back to the servant's hall.
…