The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part IV: Sa'an'ishar!
Episode Twenty-Six
Raveres tightened her gauntlets and flexed her fingers within. The nail-less digits of her left hand still pulsed with pain, yet instead of letting out a grimace, she accepted it and instead released a low grunt, forcing herself to enjoy it.
'Pain… is the reminder of life.' She smirked.
Arathar had squired for her well… so far. Only making the occasional error in his dressing of her armour. But now he sat to the side gulping and doing his best not to shake in fear at the appearance his mistress now sported. His whole life up until this point; the Asur had never knowingly seen, or met, a Druchii, let alone one dressed in such raiment as their infamous black plate.
Raising a brow and looking out the corner of her eye she smirked, playfully. Then she extended the long talon-like tip of one of her armour covered fingers. Holding still Arathar merely pursed his lips as she traced the edge of his skin with her digit of cold metal.
"You might just get better at this Arathy…"
His eyes blinked at the nick-name and she drew her hand back.
"Yet I fear that my host here has forgotten himself a little too much to forgive, or to recompense."
She nodded and turned, hand at her hilt as she stepped towards the door. Involuntarily Arathar spoke, his voice somewhat innocent as he asked quizzically,
"What does that mean?"
Yet as soon as the syllables passed his lips his eyes widened and he began cursing himself as Raveres turned her head to look over her pauldron adorned shoulder. At first her brow was furrowed and her mouth was readying a dash of venom, but she cooled, and instead her features relaxed. Enjoying Arathar's fear-covered face for a moment before she evenly responded. The intimacy of the room and the fact it was only he and her, seemed to have allowed such a moment of familiarity.
"Let's say that the lord Emir isn't as knowledgeable or as tolerant of his liquor as he ought to have been." She chuckled, "He wasn't nearly as resilient as you were."
Arathar's cheeks reddened in embarrassment and he averted his eyes. Sighing Raveres leant against the stone wall behind her.
"I suppose I can speak freely and aloud with you…" she sniggered, "You are of course the only natural speaker of my tongue, even if your accent is somewhat irritating."
Arathar wanted to scoff at her characteristically Druchii arrogance, Druhir is the younger to Asurian. But they can't even admit that. Allowing herself a moment's reprieve Raveres processed her thoughts before she spoke aloud what had happened earlier.
"I was within the garden when my host decided to make his intentions known."
…
"I demand it Wick'tus…"
Sadalsuud's words slurred, and he half-laughed before growling and repeating himself, more angered at having to do so, fighting against the daze and slowing of his inebriation;
"I demand it!"
The bearded Vizier furrowed his brow and bent down as he reached towards his lord, disregarding those present as he took hold of the younger man's collar.
"Enough of this my lord! Now!"
Sadalsuud's face struggled in his drunken stupour, to process Wick'tus action, the volume of his voice, as well as his hands upon him. Furrowing his brow in immature consternation, Sadalsuud finally straightened his lolling, numb, tongue enough to form words. Bringing his uncoordinated hands up to smack the older man's away he defiantly growled,
"No! I have said it, and I demanded it! You all saw how she dis-diss respect… The… impudence!"
Turning from his Vizier to those who remained present, the regent's courtiers averted their eyes in embarrassment as their lord looked around.
Snapping his fingers and pointing to a guardsman he bellowed; "You there!"
Wick'tus drew a sharp breath and stepped closely to Sadalsuud, straightening his back and summoning all his bravery the elder courtier spoke,
"My lord, I beg of you, you have already made yourself a fool by this display. Do not make a further error in pursuing this point."
By now those in attendance were darting away as they could, murmuring and whispering to themselves as the drama of the awkward meal had sicklied into a far worse spectacle than they had bargained for…
…
The interaction had begun far better than its ending may have indicated, despite Sadalsuud's attempts at perfection.
"Tell your beautiful master that I would be delighted to celebrate the realisation of our bargain here! With a resplendent meal amongst my gardens!"
Sadalsuud looked from Yurin to Raveres with his habitual jovial smile, and low chuckle. Yet despite his appearance and the tone of his words Yurin knew that the man was still not pleased at losing his services. Nodding Yurin turned to his side and relayed the invitation.
One of Raveres' thin eyebrows arched and she tilted her head forwards in appreciation. Clearing his throat Yurin repeated the she-elf's words;
"My lady says that she'd be honoured."
Bringing a hand to smack the side of his belly and abdomen in triumph Sadalsuud extended his right hand and waved ahead towards an artificial clearing nearer the middle of the garden.
"Ha! Excellent! Right this way!"
Already ahead of them servants had laid cushions, cloths, and table adornments on and around a wide stone platform in the middle of the clearing. The most senior courtiers were presumably also invited to partake, and as Yurin spoke with the she-elf a throng of slaves and servants began bearing trays of food towards the impromptu dining area.
Raveres furrowed a brow at their appearance but quickly hid it upon the waggling explanation from Yurin's tongue. Her face however had the telltale signs of a creature becoming wary to a trap. Sadalsuud's eyes darted around in a panic.
'Perfect, everything must be presented perfectly!' he had stressed to the servants.
Upon the news that the she-elf's vessel was most ready for voyage a strange, maddened, desire had wrapped its icy fingers around his heart. And now, sitting opposite the she-elf as his guest of honour, the regent merchant-prince only took his eyes off her sparingly.
Beside him his personal cupbearer was pouring yet another goblet full of wine. Since meeting with his various officers of the court and receiving his news of the day, it was the report that his deal with the she-elf was all but fulfilled which had stricken him with an unquenchable thirst, and an inconsolable dread.
'Now that it comes to it…' he thought hazily, 'I do not wish to part with her…'
He had made mention of it to Wick'tus, a few times, he had proposed delaying their deal, but the Vizier persuaded him otherwise. Arguing and making efforts at each turn to express that the overall patience of the court had run its course with this, Druchii business.
But now, infused with the wine, the fat merchant-prince was becoming more despondent in being told 'no' so firmly, and so often, to something which he had wanted.
…
As the meal progressed Sadalsuud's admissions and praise of the Druchii guest quickly passed the bounds of curtesy or acceptability. Yurin, at his mistress' side, began hesitating in the speed of his translations, and the she-elf's face became cooler, and sterner.
Her back straightened and as the awkwardness dawned upon everyone else in attendance, yet it was only Sadalsuud who failed to realise the fool which he was now making of himself. Eyes and sniggers were directed from courtiers and observers towards the Druchii first, and then, as they became bolder, to the Emir.
But as Sadalsuud finished another glass, he raised the empty vessel into the air for a hasty toast, one which was not immediately echoed by anyone else. And it was here that Sadalsuud finally noticed. The sniggering and the derisive, perverse, entertainment of the observers had evpourated. Instead a growing sense of embarrassment and fear had replaced it.
The eyes darted from the regent Emir to the Druchii; studying the cold, sunburnt features of the she-elf apprehensively. She moved her gaze from Sadalsuud towards the table periodically, but she never looked to either side, and she never even acknowledged the many human eyes watching her, or the spectacle unfolding around her, and because of her.
Laughing, Sadalsuud had come out of his trance to see the faces of those sitting around the table. He saw their awkwardness etched upon their features and the silence of the garden rang loudly in his skull.
Staggering to his feet, the drunken regent's expression revolved between disappointment and confusion that those in attendance were not joining in his revelry. That they would have some reason as to not partake in his happiness…
Reluctantly, and slowly, the courtiers stood after their Emir did. Raveres however remained still, her lilac eyes staring at the centre of the table.
"You're all shocked?"
Sadalsuud eventually declared, his words slurring. Laughing he extended his arms and looked from side to side so quickly he nearly upset his balance.
"Shall I repeat myself then?"
Wick'tus' wrinkle lined eyes widened and he tried to step beside his master as quickly as he could. Waving the vizier off Sadalsuud grunted and cleared his throat,
"I shan't be afraid to say it twice! Not even thrice! I am an elf-lover!"
The rotund merchant-prince laughed, his face reddening further.
"Indeed, I… I am! I know, I know that there are those, who, m-might question my favour but I shall have it known! N-nay! Decreed!"
He hiccupped, and laughed,
"My intentions towards her, that one right there! She shall be the only one fitting for my bed!"
Yurin's face paled and he stopped mid-word as he translated. Several whispers and quick sounds of surprise rolled over those watching. Raveres finally looked up from the table and met her eyes with Sadalsuud's. Wick'tus was now at Sadalsuud's side and desperately attempting to stop him.
When Yurin had finished repeating the words Raveres stood up. Her top lip twitched before she finally shot a look to either side at those watching. The whispers, the laughter, even the breathing ceased as they saw the fury and rage barely contained behind the pools of her purple eyes.
Looking back at Sadalsuud she tilted her head up to look down her nose. Quietly she spoke and Yurin hesitated before bending towards the table and picking up the goblet of wine designated for the she-elf.
Rising he offered it to his mistress and Raveres looked down as she took the glass. Regarding the dark liquid within for a moment the Druchii looked back up before her features twisted in a snarl and she hurled the glass down the table and towards Sadalsuud.
Immediately a sharp gasp erupted and people shot into whispering as the glass impacted, splashing dark wine across Sadalsuud's belly, staining his beautiful silks.
Without waiting a moment to admire her handiwork the Druchii stormed out of the garden, her retainer sputtering and his face pale in horror before he darted after her.
Sadalsuud fell backwards, stumbling as his face contorted and he tried to understand what had just happened.
Finally, his wine-addled brain was able to spit out a command, and his voice cracked in desperation as he ordered;
"Guards! Seize her!"
It was an order which Wick'tus immediately belayed, growling and pointing to the nearest spear-wielding guard daring the man to move as he growled, louder than the Emir,
"Do not touch that elf!"
Furrowing his brow and letting out a scream as he threw his goblet to the ground, Sadalsuud's voice scrambled as he snapped;
"I shall have her bent and broken in my chambers!"
By now Raveres and Yurin had mounted the stairs and were already nearing the entrance back to the palace. Sadalsuud's voice carried out of the garden behind them as she grew farther from him,
"I demand that elf's maidenhead!"
Wick'tus' face and eyes widened in horror. Falling down to his seat Sadalsuud grunted before forcing himself to rise.
"I demand it Wick'tus…"
…
Without fear or privacy, or even considering the fact that he had been enthralled so recently Raveres indulged her thoughts, her monologue, and her mental processes. Arathar, understandably, remained quiet and his eyes downward as he fearfully listened.
Her voice changed as she divulged more and more, until, eventually she relaxed. A strange cathartic relief was visible the more she spoke. Risking the occasional glance at his mistress Arathar could only hesitate to assume that this was somehow… normal for a Druchii?
When she had finished Raveres let out a strange sigh; one of resolution and of satisfaction before nodding, smirking, and then exiting her guest room, leaving Arathar without another word. Unsure whether or not to follow the Asur let out a stutter as he sat up, unsure of what he was to say he asked;
"M-my lady?"
Her voice responded sternly as she grunted,
"Keep up Arathy…"
…
Eventually the two elves ended up atop the stairs and entrance to the palace, watching as Rhea and Maya loaded a cart which Yurin had obtained. A few palace eunuchs had come, along with the slaves, to carry the chests from Raveres' chamber. She hardly even noticed as Arathar continued to dress her.
The last thing item which she had adorned, was also the only one Arathar hadn't touched. And now, standing atop the palace stairs Raveres was scrutinising it. Looking into the palm of her gauntlet covered right hand the she-elf furrowed her brow as she traced the lines and swirls of the dried blood adorning her amulet of Khaine.
Her left hand was on her hip, holding her sword's hilt between her thumb and forefinger while beside her Arathar was doing his best not to shiver at his proximity to the fully armoured, and armed, Druchii.
The Asur couldn't help but feel a fearful apprehension at the terrifying pose his mistress now cut; her face was studious, and her body resonated with confidence now that she was within the black plate, but it was her strange viewing of her amulet which caused him the most discomfort.
With the token in hand she exuded a competence he knew he was right to fear; Khaine was not a god he wanted anything to do with, and like the other deities the wayward Druchii invoked, Arathar knew only to be fearful of their dark, ruinous, powers.
Behind them inside the entrance hall, came an incoherent yell and the maddened stomping feet of a man, and not far behind that were the voices and yelling of those attempting to restrain or temper their charge.
Moving her eyes away from her amulet the Druchii asked her slave, in a plain voice;
"What remains?"
Arathar blinked and looked away from the commotion getting louder and closer and peered down the stairs.
"It looks like they're loading your w-wine…"
Below Maya was grunting and hefting a jingling crate of bottles, while Rhea was looking around with a worried expression across her bright features. Pushing the amulet back down her cuirass to hang upon her chest Raveres nodded before sighing,
"Such an inconvenience. Why those bald headed, ball-less, womanish men can't leave the palace is beyond me…"
The aid of the palace eunuchs had extended from her room only until the doorway of the palace, at which time the servants, in their irritating falsetto voices, explained they were unable to leave, even to load Raveres' luggage into the cart.
Resisting the urge to smack one across the face, the she-elf decided she was too excited and in too good a mood so far as to allow such a minor trifle to elicit such a reaction from her. At that time…
Snapping back to the present, below them, and running from the side of the courtyard, came Yurin waving his hands towards his mistress. Arathar's eyes moved from the waving retainer back towards the commotion of the yelling in the palace; as the noises of a struggle seemed to have ensued.
"My Lady!" cried Yurin.
Raveres stepped towards the edge of the stairs and nodded.
"The s-squire and his companion are ahorse now! T-the…" he coughed "The stable master wanted to whip me but I was able to get you the knight's steed."
Pointing behind him Yurin nodded.
"They're coming now!"
A few yards behind from the palace stables, came Jacque and Shen. The two humans were atop one horse, and Jacque was holding the reigns of Sir Jean's former steed; Michelle.
Behind them the voices became clearer and Arathar turned to see a rotund figure he could only assume to have been the Emir Sadalsuud approaching. Without turning Raveres spoke, her voice stern yet even as she ordered,
"Arathar get aboard the carriage with the others."
The Asur looked at the Druchii apprehensively before complying and darting down the steps. The carriage they'd 'requisitioned' was now loaded with what remained of Raveres' wine, the imperial Rhea, the barbarian Maya, the three slaves' chests, Raveres' chest, as well as a long and elaborately carved coffin.
Yurin was mounting the stairs and rushing towards his mistress' side when Sadalsuud finally appeared out of the entrance, stumbling along. Raveres turned, her eyebrow raised, as the rotund, wine-stained, and wild-eyed man extended a hand towards her. At his sides he was flanked by two guards who readied their weapons and looked at the she-elf fearfully.
Manifestly their orders had been to accompany their lord in his arrest or otherwise outright capture of the she-elf.
'An asinine desire…' Raveres thought in disgust.
Moving her hand from her hip the Druchii darted forwards, Yurin nearly tripped as he called up in horror;
"My lady no!"
Yet rather than drawing her blade Raveres moved her empty hand to smack the Emir across the face. The blow, which was restrained by Druchii terms, made Sadalsuud twist and fall to his side. His guards immediately became caught between helping their falling lord or lunging to revenge upon the woman who had dared strike their master.
In this moment of sudden distraction Raveres drew her sword, and cut through the air, beating the man to her left's blade away she brought the edge of her sword to rest upon the other man's throat. The first one's guard had dropped and he moved his sword out of the way as he fell to his knee, shooting his left hand low in an attempt at softening Sadalsuud's fall upon the stone.
In the process of his fall, and reeling from the surprisingly hard hit to his face, the fat merchant was sputtering and letting out a low groaning cough, before his head smacked against the stone dully, and at once Sadalsuud deflated on the ground; unconscious. Disregarding the situation unfolding Raveres kept her eyes on her opponents as she cried,
"Yurin!"
The two guardsmen furrowed their brows, squinting and baring angered expressions towards the she-elf.
"A-aye milady?!" the retainer stuttered.
"Drive the carriage to the docks, now!"
"Milady?"
Smirking she replied, her voice rising almost playfully,
"I shall follow momentarily."
Yurin darted his eyes from his mistress to the now-unconscious Emir, and the angry sword wielding guards.
"As soon as you are aboard, get ready to sail."
Yurin furrowed his brow, his arms shivering as his heart beat wildly. Smirking Raveres shifted her weight and moved her legs, her sword still upon the man's throat. Yurin meekly spoke aloud,
"M-my lady?"
"Don't worry yourself, I shan't kill them."
Raveres restrained herself from rolling her eyes; 'I know of only one teacher of mine who'd approve…' she smirked, 'And it's not Master Shalis.'
Before she could think about Sir Jean's stoic lessons the man at Sadalsuud's side lunged forwards with a yelp and Raveres was forced to move her blade from the other man's throat. The clanging of steel erupted and was swiftly followed by grunts as the Druchii brought her armoured leg to kick one of the men across the chest.
Yurin's eyes widened at the sudden melee, but before he became an involved spectator, he jumped down the stairs yelling to the slaves, and then to Shen and Jacque.
Doing her best to remain non-lethal Raveres opted instead for sheer humiliation, smacking the men's blades around like they were toys, she let out the occasional laugh before punching or easily beating their blades away with a slap. She was relishing the surprise bout of sword-play, and couldn't help but smile at the lack of experience these two guardsmen were showing her…
Darting to the side and beating their weapons away without any effort she chuckled and thought aloud,
"Who in the hell taught you fools how to fight?"
Behind and below she heard Yurin's voice and the snapping of reins as the carriage bucked and began loudly rolling out of the courtyard. The voices of her slaves came up as they spoke over one another in confusion, while Yurin, driving the cart, did his best to respond as he began directing the vehicle out of the courtyard and through the lapis gate.
Yelling louder and louder to goad the horses on. In response the beasts whinnied back and set into a gallop down the royal mile outside of the gate. Looking over her shoulder briefly Raveres confirmed that Yurin was making away as fast as the horses were able.
Smirking she turned back to her fight, to goad and insult her opponents a little more, her voice rose vehemently as she teased;
"Now with that out of the way…"
Growing visually more and more frustrated the two guardsmen looked at one another before leaping forwards. The Druchii suppressed a giggle of entertainment before reaching forwards with her gauntlet's talons. Easily Raveres slashed across the left man's face before punching her right, sword wielding hand, at the other.
The left one let out a scream at the immediate pain and loss of one of his eyes; falling backwards as blood poured down his face. While a dull smack announced that she had broken the right man's nose. He slipped and moved backwards after the hit, and the force of her punch made his head twist so far to the side that he let go of his sword and crumpled, groaning and letting out a low moan of pain as he fell to the floor.
Jacque, sitting atop his horse cried up the stairs at her,
"Raveres!?"
His accent and cracking voice made her name sound foreign and she couldn't help but smile. Yet she didn't look away from her 'fight', lest somehow these men still have some danger left in them. Studying her 'opponents' made the she-elf snarl in disgust at their paltry swordsmanship. Neither moved from their respective position of defeat and pain.
Smirking the Druchii eventually let out her disappointment as she chided the two hapless guardsmen and Sadalsuud's unconscious body,
"Useless fools in service to one. How fitting…"
Behind the men, back in the palace came yelling and the organised movement of several more guardsmen. Looking up and towards the entrance Raveres saw the advance of colourfully dressed, far more competent appearing swordsmen. Letting out a groan she turned back towards the stairs as she thought,
'If Sadalsuud hasn't ordered his execution in his drunken stupour I'm sure the vizier will be among them!'
"Yet there remains one more retribution…"
The men were yelling and sprinting as they came towards the entrance but Raveres darted down towards Sadalsuud. Her blade still drawn. Moving him over so that she could see his unconscious face she took the end of his beard in one hand, and brought her blade up with the other. Narrowing her eyes at his dumb, sleeping features, she couldn't help but let out a cackle of perverse excitement,
"I've wanted to do this since I first saw you in that gods-damned monastery!"
With a growl and a pull Raveres cut a straight line through the curly ends of Sadalsuud's beard as close to his chin as she could make it. Then standing away from his body she looked at the hair with revulsion before spitting onto his face.
"There! The closest you'd ever get to tasting me!"
Then looking up towards the guards she waved her beard-filled hand before turning to abscond. Below her, Jacque's face was pale and he merely sat looking at Raveres in utter surprise as she let out a happy giggle while descending the stairs; sword in one hand, and a clutch of long, curly, black hair in the other.
Behind the squire Shen merely observed with a dumbfounded expression. Jumping down the last flights and landing with a laugh Raveres sheathed her blade and regarded her handful of beard. With a noise of revulsion, she opened her palm and shook her hand of the hairs.
Clapping her gloved palms together she then approached Sir Jean's aged mount, Michelle. Cooing and using her best 'farrier' voice she held out her hands as she readied to mount the sturdy, Bretonnian war-horse.
"There, there, girl… Come on, here we… Go!"
Shooting her foot into the stirrup as she jumped Raveres swept over the top of the steed and sat into the worn saddle, gripping the reins as the horse whinnied and moved forwards. She could barely hide her glee to be mounted, and to be so close to leaving.
So much so, that as soon as she was ahorse, Raveres began beaming a satisfied, relieved, smile towards Jacque and Shen, nodding her head towards the gate before rhetorically asking aloud;
"Come on then?"
Shen darted her eyes at Jacque but the squire remained staring at the she-elf, stupefied at everything he had witnessed. Raveres leant back in the saddle, musing loudly,
"Oh, if only you two knew my tongue!"
Baring her teeth in a wide smile Raveres snapped the reins and dug in her heels before yelling;
"Sa'an'ishar!"
Forcing Michelle to whinny and set forwards, the horse's iron shoes clopped loudly along the stone road as the Druchii howled and laughed madly.
Widening his eyes and looking behind at his companion, Jacque and Shen shared a moment of astonishment before setting forwards and following after the she-elf.
…
Rolling down the city's streets Yurin was gripping at the reins madly as Arathar had jumped to sit beside him.
"You're going to kill us all you fool!" The Asur cried.
Pulling back as the two horses ahead of the cart roared down the populated streets Yurin screeched back in elvish,
"I-I'm a higher rank than you! Y-you can't talk to me like that!"
Arathar furrowed his brow as he fought for the reins, his self-interest overriding the moment as he exclaimed in disbelief;
"Are you kidding me?!"
Behind the two men Maya and Rhea were sitting, trying their best to hold on as the cart rumbled and rattled down the tight streets. Around them people were screaming and jumping out of the way, yelling and swearing as the cart drove on madly towards the gates to the port. Arathar was trying to wrestle the reins from Yurin while behind Rhea screamed,
"Y-you idiots w-we're going too fast!"
Yurin was gritting his teeth and occasionally looking ahead as he protested,
"We've got to go as fast as possible! She's signed all our death warrants!"
Arathar growled as he tried pulling away from the translator,
"You're the one who's going to get us killed right now!"
Yurin finally let go of the leather reins and fell backwards into the cart-bed. As he landed, he let out a loud, uncontrolled admission;
"S-she's mad! Sh-she actually hit; n-nay attacked the regent Emir!"
Arathar moved over and sat himself in the carriage drivers' seat and his eyes widened as he attempted to corral and drive the horses around the approaching corner, he yelled to the beasts as best he could in an effort to calm them,
"Woah! G-good horses! Slow down!"
Rhea furrowed her brow as she looked down at Yurin, her voice cracking as she asked,
"W-what?"
Nodding and trying to roll onto his side to get up he announced,
"Our mistress! Sh-she struck Sadalsuud! I… I ha, agh!" he laughed nervously before letting out a frustrated yell. "We're dead! We're never going to make it aboard the ship!"
Rhea sank down and sat as she began letting out a whimper,
"No, no, no! I… I was just getting used to… I, no!"
Maya looked from Yurin to Rhea before furrowing her brow in confusion which quickly soured, her lack of ability to speak Asurian made it so she could only assume that he'd said something hurtful to her fellow slave, and new friend. Despite the bumping of the cart Yurin had now struggled to his feet, his voice and demeanour losing composure as he bellowed;
"Arathar! You knife-eared idiot! You turned the wrong way! The port's down the other street!"
Looking over his shoulder in response the elf snarled,
"I've never been outside that damned brothel! It's not my fault if I don't know where the bloody port is!"
Yelling in unhinging frustration Yurin exclaimed,
"Follow the smell of the salt at least! You blonde-"
Before he finished Maya lunged forwards and grabbed the retainer by the shoulder, stopping him midsentence. Readying her fist, she punched him straight across the jaw, forcing him to fall to the cart's floor, his head spinning and his eyes rolling around in a daze. Rhea looked up in horror towards Maya as the tanned nomad shrugged before announcing in her language;
"I don't know what he said to you to make you cry, but he speaks too much anyway."
The imperial woman let out a scoff of disbelief before appreciatively nodding. Arathar let out a nervous chuckle as he continued to drive the cart, people ahead of them were still darting out of the way as they roared down the streets. Tilting his head into the wind, he smelt a splash of the sea to their side.
"Okay, smell of salt… Got it…"
Pulling the reins to the left the horses complied and whinnied loudly as they turned down the first option available. Blinking in surprise the elf let out a chuckle,
"Ha, it's actually not that hard driving these things!"
The horses cried and narrowly avoided a good-laden cart nearer the middle of the street, making their wagon turn so sharply the left wheels came off the ground for a moment, making both women passengers scream in fear and onlookers cry out in surprise. Rhea nervously reached towards Arathar and took hold of his hair,
"Not that hard huh? Keep your eyes on the road!"
"Ow! Let go you may-fly! I am!"
Turning down another road and avoiding people hurling objects as well as insults towards them the cart thundered towards one of the open gates to the port. The way was too narrow and filled with people for them to just come barrelling through, and they all noticed this. But it was the imperial who said something first, crying;
"S-slow it down!"
Arathar began pulling back on the reins and the horses protested, neighing and sputtering as they tried slowing their gallop. Pleadingly the elf abandoned his sense of smug superiority and yelled,
"Help me pull!"
Rhea leapt forwards and wrapped around his waist, and Maya cued in, darting her hands forwards to pull on Arathar's arms. Yurin, let out a groan, before announcing in a grunt,
"There's a hand break for the wheels…"
Rhea let go of Arathar, and looked to the side of the carriage's seat, letting out a yelp of triumph when she saw the small handle. Wrapping both her hands around the wooden lever she pulled as hard as she could and the wheels groaned as the brakes began pressing into their metal ridges.
Eventually the cart came to a stop a mere foot before the entrance to the port. Letting out loud laughs of relief the three slaves looked around, astounded that they pulled it off. Yurin rubbed his cheek and slowly stood up,
"I've got… to… to talk to the captain…"
Arathar nodded,
"Right. Well, which one is he?"
Yurin grunted and pointed ahead, his voice cracking,
"Just get us nearer the docks, okay?"
Smirking playfully and letting out a breath of surprise Arathar nodded,
"I think I've got the hang of it now!"
Nodding the Asur flicked the reins and the horses whinnied before complying, slowly moving the cart through the gate and down the slope towards the harbour. Rhea laughed before sitting back down into the cart and Maya looked around, still left in the dark before the imperial offered a quick translation. The people going about their business looked at the cart with furrowed brows, spitting insults and yelling at the four aboard for being so reckless and stupid.
…
Clinging to Jacque as they rode Shen spoke into the squire's ear,
"Your she-elf appears to be of a mind all her own!"
Nodding and following behind the Druchii he nodded,
"A-aye! S-she's certainly unique!"
Shen laughed incredulously, "That's putting it mildly!"
Jacque would have furrowed his brow in insult, but after the shock of what they'd just seen, and the speed with which things were happening he was still disappointed he hadn't finished his bath, let alone of a mind to take offense on Raveres' behalf. The woman clinging to his back chuckled before her voice rose and her accent slipped a little,
"Though I suppose she may have wanted to show off? I had said I wanted to watch her fight…"
Jacque chucked and shook his wet head; his hair was still damp in some places from their trip to the palace's baths.
"I… don't really know if she thinks that way Shen."
The easterner chuckled, "I was speaking in jest squire."
Cursing himself the boy nodded, his voice rising as he defended,
"I… I knew that!"
Ahead of them Raveres occasionally looked behind, whether it was to ensure they were still following her or if she was seeing if the palace had dispatched riders after them, he was uncertain.
What was certain was that her expression was the most lively he'd seen on her since they left to fight the pirates.
…
Bringing the cart to a final stop along the edge of one of the harbour's wide quays Yurin slowly climbed down from the carriage. Rhea's voice called after him as he descended, her voice filled with fear as she stuttered, offering a plea on her fellow slave's behalf;
"Maya, s-she says she's sorry master Yur-"
Putting his hand up and shaking his head while popping his jaw he grunted,
"It-it's fine I… I care not. It was… we're all a little on-edge…"
He stuttered and his face became flustered that he was admitting to have lost his cool earlier, furrowing his brow and stepping forwards he waved his hand as he ordered sternly,
"Oh, just unload the damned cart!"
Rhea nodded and let out a frightened whimper before setting towards the task.
"And Lady Raveres is not to know! Aye?"
The slaves replied immediately, the reminder of their mutual master made Arathar, Rhea, and Yurin sober quickly. Turning away from Raveres' slaves and looking ahead, Yurin's eyes rested on the familiar wide gangplank which led to their vessel.
The ship which Raveres' gold had purchased was long and slim, with bluff lines, and a deep keel. Its sails were of an imperial style and its overall construction was reminiscent of a Marienburg ocean-going clipper; fast.
He'd come to know the ship by sight now and had interacted with the motley crew a few times since hiring them on Raveres' behalf. He silently hoped that the few true sea-dogs that they had aboard would be enough to coral the slaves which would be doing the brunt of the ship's sailing work.
During the intermittent period when his lady was… indisposed, Yurin finished her contract with the Emirate, and found Vizier Wick'tus to be somewhat amicable towards him, and his new role as a noble's seneschal, if not a little curt.
But after what he just witnessed Raveres do, any prospect of return dealings with the Emir or the city were certainly gone now. Shaking his head, he focused on the most pressing things to be done, and on that score all that remained was for them to get away. Or at least to get the ship out of the harbour.
While he hadn't been able to introduce the ship's rugged captain to Lady Raveres, he hoped that she'd find him to be somewhat of a practical sort and reliable, if his words were somewhat abrasive.
'But I suppose she's not as lady like as her breeding might imply…' he thought begrudgingly.
Following Vizier Wick'tus' advice Yurin had met with prospective captains one on one in a more reputable tavern to measure whether or not he'd be a good fit for the voyage.
Most of the men were offended at the prospect of serving a woman, especially one who was acting on her own behalf. A few took further offense when they deduced it was a certain she-elf…
Some, after learning certain details about the voyage, wanted far too much pay, and many of them paled at the idea of sailing towards the Druchii coast. Yet of all the interviews only a few had promise and but by the time he found the winning candidate Yurin was nearing the end of his patience for these sea-going, leather necked men.
…
"So, more than that, I'm curious; who's this lady I'll be working for then?"
The man smirked playfully before quickly straightening. Yurin stiffened at the sailor's avoidance of his previous question, and his overall brashness so far but he reluctantly answered, hoping to instil some sort of familiarity, or respect, of his employer, and by extension himself. Clearing his throat, and announcing as close to a herald as he could, Yurin spoke,
"My mistress is the Lady Raveres Naguii, staying within Al Daouk as an honoured guest of the Emir."
The man's expression remained still and Yurin furrowed his brow somewhat in disappointment,
"Lady Raveres?" He repeated.
The sailor remained plain faced before shrugging,
"Don't know 'er by the name, sorry." He chuckled.
Yurin nodded, though disappointed the man didn't know of the only Druchii in Al Daouk, he could at least appreciate that the man remained civil and even blasé about working for a woman.
"That's fine, but… I suppose I'm just surprised you've not heard of her so far."
The man nodded but let out a cough,
"Can't say I've been speakin' much to these Arabyan-types. Heh, they're somewhat distrustful of an outsider like me self, eh?"
At this the retainer nodded, he had to admit that there he and the sea-dog were alike… Growing up as a colour-eyed, fair-skinned, blonde in Araby was not without its fill of strangeness and divisive animosity.
The sailor was, like himself, somewhat ethnically vague and to look at him one couldn't be sure as to where he hailed from, or who his people may have been. His facial features seemed almost southern-imperial, maybe even north-Tilean but he revealed that he spoke both Bretonnian and Reik-speak as his mother tongues. A fact, which to Yurin, only added to his overall mysteriousness…
With his hair shaved on the sides by a razor, and the shorter-length top slicked back, the captain cut a roguish figure; and increasing his visual appeal, the captain's warm eyes and handsome features caught the gaze of most all the women in the building.
The servant girls moving about the tables of the establishment were most keen to continue hovering about their table, their eyes liberally watching the exchange between him and Yurin. Shooting both men coy feminine smiles and a few bats of their eyelashes. Smirking the man seemingly read the retainer's mind as he commented,
"But I suppose I don't need to tell you that Yuri."
Snapping out of his examination of the man the retainer let out an awkward chuckle, and despite the shortening of his name he couldn't help but smile and nod,
"Ha, yes well-"
"So, tell me about your Lady then."
Raising his hand pre-emptively the sailor nodded,
"I know, I'm not being disrespectful, I'm bein' serious. Just give me the short and sweet of it."
Yurin pursed his lips at the low-class manner of speaking but reluctantly obliged.
"My lady's a noble preparing her passage home; she recently came into fame and fortune after assisting the Emir, and most recently so, during the mercenary raid upon the city."
The man seemed unaware of the recent attack and Yurin asked incredulously,
"It happened but a few days ago?"
The sailor furrowed his brow,
"Aye, I heard of something like that, but it must have been before I arrived."
Yurin sighed before asking, "Well, did you hear at all of a woman fighting amongst the Emir's men?"
"Aye…"
"With silver-white hair? Tall?"
The man was nodded,
"Yeah, yes! I heard all sorts of accounts from soppy men in the alehouses. Your mistress, it's a she-elf innit?"
The man had a quirky smile across his lips, and he brought his hand to rub the edge of his jaw. His eyes studied Yurin intensely. Not like he would have been able to keep up a lie he let out a sigh before nodding.
Straightening in his seat Yurin admitted,
"Yes, my lady is elven."
Pursing his lips before taking a sip of water from his foggy glass the captain grunted. After swallowing he chuckled,
"Ain't never been too close to a female Druchii before…"
At this Yurin tilted his head, his eyes widening,
"You k-"
The man nodded,
"It wasn't that hard to deduce mate. But yeah. I spent years sailing away from Druchii and their bloody black sails… Heh, their ebony-hulled corvettes or black arks always seem to bring an icy wind if you spotted them along the horison."
Yurin drew a breath and tensed. Surely the man was now to ask an extortionate demand in pay. But instead, he was surprised, as the sailor leaned forwards, his tanned and rough hands landing on the table as he asked,
"So… What's she like?"
The man laughed at Yurin's expression and waved his hand,
"Nah you don't have to answer, but let me guess… This ship, and this lady, are bound for her home across the sea, eh? Naggaroth right?"
The man met the retainer's eye for a moment before he finally admitted; "Yes."
The sailor smirked and let out a low chuckle,
"Sounds like quite the challenge."
Yurin sighed in resignation, yet another prospective commander turned off. Preparing to sit up he spoke lowly, his voice hollow and mechanical as he repeated his recent refrain;
"Well I thank you for your ti-"
Leaning back in his chair the captain bellowed happily, "I accept!"
Yurin's eyes widened and his voice cracked, "Y-you do?!"
The seasoned sailor nodded,
"Aye. And, to answer your earlier question, I'll give you my name now."
Chucking in disbelief and irritation Yurin nodded, "Well… Let's have it then."
"You might call me, Captain, Jaquen Kohler"
…
Furrowing his brow and waving towards the retainer over the ship's rail Captain Jaquen's face was one of surprise. So far, he'd spent his time familiarising with the ship, the crew, and the conditions he expected them to be sailing under.
"Master Yurin! What brings you and…" his voice faltered when he looked over the slaves and not seeing the silver hair of his still-unseen employer.
"I don't see our fair lady? Are you here to merely inspect the ship again for her?"
He offered a smile, but it faded as he took notice of the retainer's body language. Now leaning against the ships wooden rail Jaquen watched Yurin stagger from the roofless wagon. Shaking his head and getting closer to the edge of the quay Yurin cleared his throat before responding,
"C-change of plans Captain Kohler… Lady Raveres wishes to depart today."
Jaquen furrowed his tanned brow and brought a hand to rub his chin, beside him a few of the ships non-enslaved sailors eyed him with interest before looking down at the approaching land loving retainer.
"Today?" he laughed, "We've since past the best time to get a'past the harbour moors."
Yurin cringed as he approached the gangplank,
"While that may be, anything else is not exactly an option captain."
The scruffy sea-dog eyed the retainer and instantly picked up on the situation. Yurin's expression and his flustered face, his heavy breathing, behind him the quick movements of the slaves as they unloaded their cargo from the cart. Jaquen nodded and changed tact,
"Understood master Yuri."
Yurin now swayed as he boarded the ships' deck, his voice attempting to convey his mistress' authority,
"She ordered me to get the ship ready to sail."
Before pointing to the nearest sailors Kohler bellowed,
"Say no more. You help get those crates aboard and stowed. You go with him."
The two men nodded and darted down the gangplank towards Maya, Rhea, and Arathar. Yurin walked beside Jaquen as he began yelling commands,
"Lieutenant! Rouse the crew we make sea-ready now!"
A loud whipping rope zipped by as a man descended from one of the masts, his gruff voice responding,
"Aye sir!"
Leaning towards one of the deck's hold-guards he knowingly yelled below,
"Helmsman! Topside now!"
Yurin smirked, "Well, looks like you've adjusted quite well to your new command?"
Smiling Jaquen let out a chuckle,
"A life aboard ships gives one that kind of malleability."
"Now I shan't ask why now, and why with such haste we must make this departure, but I will ask if we're going to be followed."
At this the translator pursed his lips, hesitating, "I…"
"Right, I'll take that as a maybe."
Looking upwards and squinting Jaquen looked at the sun and mouthed words as he quietly counted, letting out a sigh he looked back down and walked towards the ship's bell.
"I don't mean to alarm you Yuri, but there's not a moment to lose, and I've not got the most seasoned of sailing slaves here… So…"
Yurin's eyes widened and he stepped out of the way of the gangplank as Arathar and the sailors brought Sir Jean's coffin aboard.
"So?" he echoed uncertainly.
The captain smirked, "Can you sail master Yuri?"
…
Thundering down the road and yelling to people amidst the street Raveres rode Michelle madly.
"S-she's going to give the old girl a heart attack!" Jacque cried.
Shen merely laughed in response as she held onto her fellow passenger. "The horse seems to have far more spirit in it then you give credit."
Ignoring the words behind her and the jeers of the crowd Raveres' mind raced, 'Out of here. I'm finally going to be out of here! Out and away, laden with riches… Free and self-made… It is done! I can't believe it is done!'
An expression of glee came across her sun kissed and cracking Druchii features and she let out a low private squeal to be so close to escape.
Tightening her grip on the reins her smile went to the side as she forced herself to relax, the harbour was just a few feet away. 'Calm yourself you fool, we're not free of the city yet…'
Exhaling and centring herself she reluctantly slowed her pace, under her Michelle whinnied almost appreciatively before sputtering and letting out a pant. On either side people abated and moved from the path of her barded Breton steed. Their surprised and dumbfounded expressions made her puff with superiority and strange confidence.
She should have felt somewhat disgusted to be viewed with her skin still in such a state, but… she didn't! Instead, she felt right, relieved, excited, glad… Her chest swelled and she felt the familiar jagged pressing in of her mother's amulet into the flesh of her breast.
The uncomfortable metal was heavy, but reminded her. And she sobered. It'd been so long… too long…
"Home…" she whispered happily.
From where they were she could see the now empty cart which Yurin had driven. Looking up from the wagon her heart swelled when she saw the retainer and her three slaves aboard one of the ships. 'It's real.' She remarked.
Beaming a smile Raveres passed through the gate to the port and let go of her reins to boastfully wave around at those who were quickly recognising her.
Their voices and alien tongues rising as they murmured and spoke aloud towards her. Some let out cries of adoration or of strange devotion towards the city's strangest guest.
Yet rather than encourage or capitalise off of the praise of Al Daouk's citizenry Raveres raised her voice as high as she could before cursing with a smile;
"I hope that Khaine's ire falls once more upon this place!"
The people watched on, dumbly, as she and the squire drove their horses towards the quays. The Druchii laughed as she looked over the faces of the people, she'd not so long ago been apprehensive of. Relishing the lack of a common language and enjoying the freedom of her own choices, she nodded before chiding;
"Aye! You foolish humans! You know not what I speak or yet what I've done."
Looking over her shoulder Raveres met Jacque's eye and she let out a curt noise before smirking, the squire's face was visibly embarrassed, much like their first trip through the harbour. But he nodded trustingly, his lips rising in an uncomfortable forced smile, he could only assume she was saying something boastful, yet amicable.
'The truth…' she thought.
Turning back ahead she chuckled in perverse entertainment, musing to herself; 'oh what a blushing example of innocence he is yet. Such a gift that he-'
Her eyes widened and she faltered.
'He what?' she thought nervously. Suddenly she felt unsure and almost betrayed. 'He still lives? It's a gift? Gods, girl! He's a replaceable pet!'
Squeezing her eyes shut as she resisted a snarl, she dug her heels into the horses' flanks and made Michelle canter the last few yards down the harbour's promenade to their quay.
'A pet we're going to be far better off rid of…' She wordlessly agreed with herself, before reluctantly adding, 'He's better off home. It does not due to take fish out of water…' she scoffed, 'nor a Breton out of Bretonnia.'
Looking over her shoulder again she waved Jacque and Shen as she turned onto the quay and Michelle whinnied uncomfortably, the horse seemed familiar with what was to come next. Looking down at the horse's mane and head the Druchii growled,
"You best not extend the length of this beast I swear… I'm doing this as a curtesy to a dead hu-"
Rolling her eyes and dismounting she growled under her breath, "A dead human?!" Sighing she swore mentally, 'Gods below take me…'
Atop the ship's gangplank Yurin yelled to her, his hands in the air and waving for her attention, "My lady!"
Throwing the reins over the horse's neck she pointed curtly, "Get this beast aboard!"
Nodding and proceeding down the gangplank he responded, "A-aye milady."
Stopping as she approached Yurin pointed towards the captain and began a hasty introduction,
"My lady that's the captain I tried to tell you about earlier; Jaquen Kohler."
Shaking her head and bringing her hand up Raveres deliberately ignored Yurin's voice. As she mounted the top of the walkway and came aboard, she immediately slipped into her own world.
Ignoring the sounds of the scurrying sailors atop the masts, the horses protesting up the gangplank, Jacque and Shen's attempts at calming the beasts, Yurin's incessant commentary, the noise of the harbour. To the Druchii things became muted, and distant. Her mind quieted and Raveres shut her eyes. Breathing deeply through her nose she took a few steps, blind, towards the middle of the ship's deck.
The breeze wisped around her head, coolly it kissed across her flaking cheeks and she leant her head backwards. Ignoring the chattering, the looking, her 'crew', her living cargo, the new captain… she blocked out everything, but the sea.
The ship moved up and down with the tide, minutely shifting and creaking. The mooring lines were cast off as bells dinged and sails unfurled. Men ran along tightropes under the masts, sheets billowed outwards as the ship made a slow motion from the quay. Harbour ships assisted directing the ship outwards.
Raveres knew the processes now, and as she heard the humming, creaking, loving noises of the ship it came about and began to move outwards from the heart of the port. The she-elf smirked,
'I remember thinking I'd never be one to raid and sail… a Druchii reaver…'
Slowly opening her eyes and looking towards the harbour's mouth Raveres parted her lips in a fanged smile,
"Perhaps I was wrong?"
…