Wind of Fate, Part IV
It was the rapping at the window that woke Jason up, late one night, just after he'd managed to get to sleep. He jerked awake, startled, and then the rapping came again.
"Who sends a messenger bird this late?" he started in a grumble as he stood up, before turning to the window and-
A dark figure was staring at him through the window!
He yelped and jumped back, stumbling and almost falling, his heart racing faster than it ever had . . . but the figure did nothing. Waiting.
He snapped his fingers to turn the light on, but fumbled, his hands shaking too badly from the sudden adrenaline. It took half-a-dozen attempts before he finally managed it, and then the light finally came on, illuminating the person of-
Jason rolled his eyes, and carefully stepped over to the bed and shook his little mistress awake.
"Wha-?" she said, sleepily.
"Princess Henrietta's here, outside the window. Let her in."
Louise's gaze sharpened as she came fully awake, and soon the princess was inside and embracing her childhood friend.
"It's a pity you were sleeping," Henrietta remarked, once she let Louise go. "Your familiar put on quite the amusing spectacle when he woke up and saw me."
"He did? Jason?"
He rolled his eyes once more. "There are stories among my people about ghosts and demons floating outside buildings, hoping to find a way in. Mostly told to entertain, but they can get pretty scary. And 'mage Levitating outside' isn't a valid possibility. Or wasn't. So until I turned the light on, I was a bit unnerved."
"Oh." Louise shook her head tiredly. "Here, let me get some wine."
"You keep wine? How long has that been going on?" he asked as she went to the armoire on the right, where she kept her supplies.
"I started when we returned," his little mistress replied, digging through the bottom until she found a small box, and opened it up to reveal a bottle of wine and several small glasses. "Just in case her Highness found a chance to visit, I'd be able to offer refreshment."
She brought the box over to the table and poured three glasses, before shooting him a warning look. "This had better not be more than you can handle."
He winced. "As long as it's just wine, and nothing stronger, I'll be fine. It was the brandy that was the problem last time."
"Is this about the trouble Jason was in, back in Bruxelles?" Henrietta asked as she sat down. "Or a new problem?"
"No, it was the Bruxelles thing." He shook his head as Louise sat down next to the princess and he knelt on the other side of the table. "And that was only because I thought I was drinking a very light wine. If I don't have anything more than this one glass, I'll be fine."
"That's good to hear," the princess said, smiling, then held up her glass. "Louise, Jason . . . to righteous mischief!"
"To righteous mischief," the two repeated, glasses clinking, before they all took a sip.
"To righteous rulership!" Louise then toasted, and another sip was had by all.
"To righteous warfare," Jason concluded. "Since open war may be coming, righteous or not." A third sip was had after the third and final toast.
"I sent a letter to your Professor Colbert," Henrietta then announced, "inquiring about his new steel process, although I don't believe it has arrived here yet. If the process works as well as you said, then hopefully I can persuade the Regency Council to purchase it soon enough to aid in the defense of Tristain.
"As for this recovery program proposal you included . . . you truly don't trust the administrators to care for their charges, do you?"
He shrugged. "Some would. They'd respect it as a sacred calling, to lift up the downtrodden, to help them on their way to brighter futures. Most of the rest? Better to make it harder to get away with graft, and easier to get caught if they try anyway." Jason shrugged again. "There's a saying in my homeland: 'If men were angels, they would need no government. If men were governed by angels, that government would need no limits.'"
His little mistress winced, and her Highness hid a slightly scandalized giggle with one hand. "That is not a saying I'll mention, to the Regency Council or the Church," she replied. "To suggest that the nobility, chosen of Brimir, fail as a class to act as angels would . . ."
"I've been working on the new wand formulation for Mix, like you suggested," Louise quickly interjected. "And Jason's been writing down some stories of intensive training for new recruits."
"Two stories and a few anecdotes," he agreed. The question had been which ones to put down first. The training of the Diaspran Mardukans in March to the Sea had seemed like a good first choice, since it focused on spear-and-shield training (including simulated kills using training dummies). The basic training of the Balboan mercenaries in A Desert Called Peace had been his second choice, for the general advice on the craft of training soldiers. The various anecdotes, each selected to make a point about the necessities of military training – such as the trick of using weekend liberty as a motivator – had been pulled from anywhere he could find them in his phone's library, from the works of over half a dozen authors.
Perhaps he could have found a few more, given time, but based on her earlier letter things were probably starting to move on her Highness's front, so Jason got up and brought the sheaf of hand-written excerpts over to the table. "We've both been somewhat busy, and copying this out by hand is taking time, but I've managed to get down the ones that ought to be especially helpful for turning slum recruits into soldiers. I, uh, figured Louise's parents already know their business when it comes to training nobles."
Henrietta smiled. "They do. And I received a reply from them two days ago: If Mother agrees, then they'll do it! They even offered some suggestions for making it look like the Undine Knights will be nothing serious, so that I don't scare off the courtiers before they're sworn in and shipped off for training."
"What about funding issues?" he asked. "I tried to design the recovery program suggestions so they wouldn't be an ongoing burden on the Purse, but it's still gonna need an initial endowment. And adding to the military always costs money."
"The Regency Council is beginning to prepare for the burdens of defending our nation from Reconquista, but," here the princess frowned, "there is little support for equipping men conscripted from the slums, and no one wants to take up the burden of absorbing them into established companies."
"Father wouldn't want to either," Louise replied, frowning in sympathy, "but I can ask him, as a special favor from the Crown."
"Hold off on that," Jason interrupted. "If you can find the training cadre – check with Agnes, if you can still get in touch with her – the initial training for them doesn't have to cost all that much."
"Truly?" Henrietta's frown vanished. "How so?"
"What I've written down goes into some detail on that," he replied, tapping the sheaf he'd brought over, "but the essentials are: The first several weeks are spent exercising, learning how to march in formation and other drills, and maybe doing some activities that seem a lot more dangerous than they really are. They'll be living in tents and won't need anything more than light clothing they can exercise in, and maybe some sticks to simulate marching with spears and shields. Just keep them well-fed and use that super-healing wand once or twice a week to fix all the minor injuries that are going to happen."
He shrugged and smiled. "I think the Council might be surprised by how far they'll come along after a month or two."
"Food and tents?" the princess repeated. "That may be possible. De Montferat drove many of the shops in his bourg to ruin over the years, and arranged to profit from their sale to new residents. We will return what we can to those who survived his depredations, but a considerable sum will be left over nonetheless. It may well cover such minor expenditures.
"And I've already returned the years of stolen taxes to the Charming Faerie Inn, in thanks for their part in uncovering de Montferat's thefts." She smiled impishly, although her eyes were shadowed slightly. "I haven't gotten Agnes back yet, but she sent me a note, conveying the thanks of the Guard for the new 'sandwiches'. The luxury of fresh meals while on duty is one they've swiftly come to appreciate."
Then her Highness paused, a thoughtful look on her face. "The Inn only has a dozen faeries working there, if I recall Agnes' report. And they are only open in the afternoon and evening. But perhaps a business providing fresh meals to the Guard all over Bruxelles would be a good way to immediately employ the women who join the recovery program."
Jason blinked. "Uh . . . yeah, that's probably going to work at least as well as any of the jobs that I found out about. With a city the size of Bruxelles, there's potentially a pretty big market for fresh delivered meals. Too big for the Inn to handle by themselves, and no one else is doing it, so the recovery women could do it without competing for income that someone else is depending on."
Then he frowned in thought. "And if we're doing that, the roads in the capitol are good enough that I probably ought to ask Mr. Colbert to invent the bicycle." If he recalled correctly, they'd been invented in the 19th century, and thus before rubber was cheap enough to be used for wheels. So either wood or metal ought to suffice. Of course, getting the faeries to speak in pidgin Tristainian while making deliveries was right out, even if Jessica did have the build and the eyes to cosplay as Shampoo. Especially if she took a potion to become a plumlock.
Which he wasn't going to daydream about.
"A 'bicycle'?" Henrietta repeated.
"Oh, that's a simple machine. You wanted examples of those, right? This one allows a commoner to travel as fast as a man can run, without quite as much effort and thus quite a bit further. Which means deliveries are that much faster, and thus the food is that much fresher. But they need good roads, like the capitol has. I'll talk with him about it. Plus he came up with a machine that helps with churning ice-cream, that should be popular, right? Just, uh, make sure the Inn has access to both, if you would?"
"I shall," the princess promised. Then she quirked her lips. "You know, there are times I feel like I should carry you both off to the palace and keep Jason engaged in conversation until every interesting notion has been wrung from him."
"Not until he's helped me become the mage I'm supposed to be!" Louise retorted, giggling.
"True. And there's no time right now, with the need to prepare against Reconquista. But this suggestion for an affordable means of training the conscripts now, while there is time to prepare . . ." Henrietta trailed off, then smiled again. Rather more seriously, though. "As I said, the Regency Council is beginning to prepare, but they're moving slower than I would like. So if we begin the conscription now, they will have had time for your program of exercise and discipline to show results when the Council finally turns its attention to them."
"They're moving slowly?" Louise asked. "Do you think Reconquista's influence, whatever it is, might be interfering?"
"Almost certainly," the princess replied, nodding. "The infiltrators captured by Agnes didn't know who had access to the Council, but we shall carry on until that influence is entirely rooted out and Tristain is secure."
"Speaking of security," Jason interrupted, "how'd you get here? I mean, showing up unannounced and coming in through the window-"
"Yes, I slipped away from the palace again," she confirmed, her smile touched by a hint of glee.
"And how much trouble is that going to cause?"
"None, if I return home swiftly enough." She rolled her eyes. "Mother hasn't secured things against me nearly as well as she thinks, and sneaking a single pegasus out of the stables won't get me caught like the carriage did."
"Her Highness can even pretend that she spent the night sleeping," Louise said. "As long as she doesn't do it too often."
"That's good to hear, but it's still a risk. If you wanted a progress report, you could have just sent another letter."
"That might have been the prudent choice," Henrietta agreed. "But these conversations are often so very interesting! Besides, the Regency Council is taking me more seriously, and I've begun to worry that any letters I send might be intercepted and read. And even if I used our old cipher, what if someone were to break it? I came here in person because I needed to deliver an utterly secure message, and I can only hope to do that face to face."
Louise stood up straight. "Whatever you have to say, I will hear and obey!"
The princess nodded and smiled. "I know, Louise. I had no doubt of your loyalty before, and now it is proven beyond question. So, here is the situation:
"While you and your familiar were investigating Turenne de Montferat, Reconquista became active not only in Bruxelles, but also in Albion once again. And this time they've incited the greater portion of the Albionese fleet to mutiny, and forced many of the other ships aground."
Louise took in a sharp breath. "The civil war has restarted, then. How dire-?"
Henrietta shook her head. "I don't know. It's dire enough that the standard of the Valiant is not flying from the warships seen near Albion, by the reports I've had. The Throne of Air has not fallen, not yet, but I cannot send a bird and expect it to make it through a civil war unintercepted with the skies contested, or even fallen into Reconquista hands.
"I have need of a messenger that I can trust without question. That's you and Agnes, but I haven't yet gotten Agnes back under my personal command. And . . . a noblewoman can move safely where a commoner would be at greater hazard."
Louise nodded seriously, and took another sip of her wine.
"You're talking about sending her as a courier," Jason said. "Just how dangerous could it become?"
"It's possible that the trip will face attack by Reconquista," the princess conceded. "But they'll not be quick to earn Tristain's outrage by offending a Vallière daughter. And I won't be sending her – or you – unescorted. My Captain of the Guard, Viscount Wardes, will accompany the two of you."
"Jean-Jacques?" Louise asked, before taking another quick sip of wine. When she lowered the cup, her cheeks were a bit pink.
Henrietta smirked. "Indeed. I could send him by himself, and I would have every confidence in his safety, but he is still more loyal to Mother, Cardinal Mazarin, and to the Regency Council than he is to me."
"Ouch. Can't just ask if someone's loyal to his country, you have to weigh his loyalty to the different factions holding power." Jason shook his head. "Better you than me, Highness."
"Just so," the princess agreed. "His ambition leads him to serve Tristain well, but until I'm crowned Queen, loyalty to the crown is not necessarily loyalty to myself."
She smiled wryly. "I confess, I was almost tempted to take Cardinal Mazarin into my confidence in this matter, for he has begun to see me in a new light since I exposed the threads of Reconquista's tapestry. But I would not like to risk his good opinion of me quite yet."
That got a raised eyebrow from Jason. What's going on, that you need to sneak around your government again?
But Louise only nodded. "What would you have me tell Prince Wales, when we find him?"
Henrietta laughed, albeit with a tinge of sorrow. "Am I so obvious?"
"Only because we've known each other for so long."
"Let us hope." With that the princess pulled out an envelope. "This has been sealed as well as I may, with the Ring of Water. I know that Wales has begun bearing the Ring of Air, so he'll be able to unseal it. But keep it safe! The warding amulets that the Reconquista agents were wearing . . . we still haven't unraveled their making, and I mislike the thought of Reconquista applying whatever secret lore they have discovered to the purpose of unsealing this."
"I shall guard it most carefully!" Louise declared. "With my life, if I must."
"Brimir willing, it shall not come to that. Captain Wardes will meet you the morning after tomorrow, and you shall travel to La Rochelle, there to take ship to Albion. As you guard my message, so shall he guard my messenger."
She nodded.
Henrietta finished her wine, then stepped forward and embraced her friend. "I'm sorry to be giving you another task that may not be spoken of. I shall find a way to reward your loyalty, I promise you."
His little mistress hugged her back, mumbling something that Jason couldn't quite make out.
"Oh, hang on!" he suddenly said. "There's something in the recovery programme I meant to add, but hadn't gotten around to writing down."
Her Highness retrieved the packet of paper from her sleeve. "What is it?" she asked.
"Well, all of this is set up so that it tries to be as simple as possible in each step, without letting any one corrupt person abuse power without running a lot of risks. You know, pairs of witnesses any time money is handled, each with an incentive to keep the other honest . . . but I never addressed leaving the programme. There's gotta be a reward to everyone involved every time a woman is prepared to leave." He jotted down notes quickly, as he spoke.
"Did you have anything in mind?" Henrietta asked.
"Yeah, a graduation account, a lump sum they get when they leave the program. Every time they add to it, a small percentage goes into a separate account. If their graduation account is high enough – you'll have to decide what 'high enough' means, but I'd recommend at least enough to live on for a year – or their new life will be well-supported, or whatever, that separate account goes to the people who'd been helping her as a bonus for a job well done. But if she leaves and she doesn't meet the criteria for a good 'graduation', she keeps the bonus. Gives the staff incentive to keep the women in recovery until they're ready to leave, and then gives them incentive to make sure they're set up in good circumstances."
The princess nodded thoughtfully as she took back the hastily revised notes. "Thank you. But now I must return to Bruxelles, ere I am missed." So saying, she Levitated herself out the window and up to the roof.
Jason shook his head after she left. "If she only took a single pegasus, that means she gave whoever's guarding her the slip. Hope she doesn't get caught out again."
"That's for her Highness to worry about," Louise replied. "We need to get back to bed, and take tomorrow to prepare for the trip."
"Right." And we're so close to fully testing the rifle design, too. Oh well, guess we can put it off a few more days. Or Mr. Colbert can just test it on his own. "I was going to see if you and Siesta wanted to watch the stars again tomorrow night, but I guess that's out of the question, if we're making an early start the morning after."
She grimaced slightly. "You can spend time with your maid when we get back. Tomorrow we'll be too busy."
Not quite what we said, little mistress. "Right. Good night, Louise."
"Another errand for the princess?"
That was enough to get a wince. "Is it really that impossible to keep secrets around here?"
Mr. Colbert smiled. "It's not widely put about, but Her Highness did send a letter to the Headmaster to make necessary arrangements. You know, we could complete the revolver design, if you'd you like to go armed this time. Perhaps do some of that field-testing you say is necessary?"
Jason shook his head. "No, that shouldn't be a problem. And if something goes horribly wrong, I'd rather not risk them falling into non-Tristainian hands."
The same went for all of his irreplaceable relics of Terra, like his watch and his phone. Just like the undercover trip to Bruxelles, he'd be leaving them behind. It's a good thing that Mr. Colbert's colleagues figured out how to dupe as much as they did. Washing our teeth the local way sucks. Glad we don't have to do that again.
"By the way, have you gotten a letter from her Highness? Inquiring about the Bessemer process?"
The teacher blinked. "No. I take it I should expect one?"
"Sooner rather than later, yes. I think she'd also like the design for the ice-cream machine. Plus . . . well, the other reason to put off finishing the revolver is that there's a machine from my homeland called a bicycle, and if you could reinvent it before the princess's letter shows up it'd be a way to help out commoners . . ."
"But where are you going this time?" Siesta asked, eyes wide, as she brought the clothing he'd need. It was higher quality than the peasant gear she'd provided for the journey to Bruxelles, suitable this time to the retainer of a noble.
"I really can't say," Jason told her apologetically. "But if all goes well this shouldn't take more than a week."
"That's good." Her eyes dropped shyly. "I . . . I missed you, while you were gone. I suppose you were too busy, surrounded by all those pretty girls, to miss me."
"Fishing for compliments?" He asked, smiling, before he stepped forward and gave Siesta a sudden hug. "Don't worry. I don't want to go back to the Inn, and I do want to come back here."
Her eyes were wide again, but she slowly smiled, and hugged him back. "I'll be waiting then. A week or less, you said."
"If all goes well, yes."
"To Brimir's ears, then." So saying, she stepped up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, before breaking away and scurrying off.
The outfit, as Jason found out while trying to struggle into it, was much more elaborate than the jeans and casual shirts he got away with as a weird foreigner. His new underwear, apparently called 'braies', were half-cotton, half-leather affairs with exaggerated codpieces. Over that went tights almost identical to Louise's hosiery, and then over that came baggy pantaloon shorts that kinda looked like they belonged in a Disney Arabian Nights movie. These were held up by built-in belts, much like his little mistress's culottes, but also by being tied to his shirts. Plural. In layers. An undershirt with long sleeves and heavy cuffs, a vest-like shirt over that with shorter sleeves about as poofy as his pantaloon shorts, and a sleeveless vest over that which he wasn't supposed to button up. The collar was starchy and stiff, and his hat looked a bit like a Pilgrim hat.
Except no buckle. And at least the shoes he'd worn to Bruxelles would still serve.
It was thoroughly uncomfortable, though, and when Louise came looking for him to leave he was still only half-dressed.
And for all that it meant valuable practice for her, Levitating his clothing into place while she was so exasperated with him made for a harrowing experience.
Jason looked at the horse.
The horse looked back.
Neither looked very happy.
Louise looked over from where she was saddling her own horse. "What's the problem?"
"Er, how to put this? I spent maybe twelve hours over the course of a week learning how to ride, and that was about eight years ago." Good memories, though. Scout camp had been a lot of fun.
But saddling and then mounting a horse based on a merit badge that he'd gotten back when he was fourteen was going to prove quite the challenge.
She looked faintly disbelieving. "You don't use horses? What, you rode trains everywhere or something?"
"No, we have different machines for journeys of less than a hundred miles. The bicycle, for example?"
His little mistress rolled her eyes. "Well, we don't have those yet, and we have to get moving soon, so hurry up!"
They were bringing a total of four horses with them. Remounts for the trip, apparently. Captain Wardes, the fellow that Louise apparently knew as Jean-Jacques (and wasn't it just a pleasant thought that she was on a first-name basis with him?), would be meeting them as soon as they got out of sight of the Academy, and lead them to La Rochelle from there.
It took a few tries, but eventually he had the saddle on well enough that Louise gave his efforts grudging approval. Then, as soon as he fumbled his way onto the horse, his little mistress just about vaulted onto the saddle of her horse. And no, she hadn't pulled out her wand to Levitate onto the saddle, she'd just already known how to mount her horse like a boss.
"Alright, since you've forgotten what you're doing, pay attention!" In no time at all she had the two remounts following her, controlling her own horse with the expertise of long practice, bringing her tiny herd to a smooth-looking canter that Jason could not get his own mount to duplicate as he followed her.
It didn't take long for them to reach the treeline, and in a nearby clearing they found a man seated on a gryphon, waiting for them.
Said man was tall and lean, with iron-gray hair but a youthful appearance despite that. It was the trimmed mustache and beard that tipped Jason off: This was the same man who'd been guarding Princess Henrietta when she'd visited the first time.
Triangle or Square, we decided back then. Nothing less for the security of royalty. And Louise doesn't seem concerned, so this has to be Captain Wardes. Who she knows as 'Jean-Jacques'. Damn it to hell.
Up close, he didn't look any less badass than he had when Jason had watched from the tower, and he swung down from the gryphon with fluid, practiced ease as Louise led the horses over to meet him.
She stopped her horse about ten feet away, then dismounted with similar ease. [stay on the horse jason][,][you will take too long to remount]
Wasn't about to try, unless you told us otherwise.
Captain Wardes lifted Louise's hand to his lips as soon as she reached him. Then he murmured something to her that Jason couldn't quite hear. Whatever it was, though, it was enough to make her blush.
A spike of cold drove through his heart. Dammit. Just how badly have we been in denial, since coming back from the Inn?
Nonetheless Jason carefully blanked his expression as the two nobles conversed quietly. [you called him jean jacques rather than captain or viscount wardes].[i take it you know him][?] And let's be grateful that this mental texting doesn't communicate emotions nearly as well as voices do.
Lack of emotion or not, Louise didn't reply, or even pause her pleasantries with the Captain.
After a few more minutes of such, the man helped her up on his gryphon, to sit behind him, then gathered the three riderless horses with the same easy skill she'd shown, and moved out of the clearing onto the road. Jason, rather clumsily, followed.
Finally she responded. [he is my presumptive fiancé]
Which was close enough to what he was half-expecting, half-dreading. But it didn't hurt any less to hear, and it was a very good thing that neither of the two nobles was looking back at that point. The expression on his face, before he managed to get it under control . . . [presumptive][?]
[my family was negotiating the betrothal when his father died almost ten years ago].[then he was able to join the gryphon knights][,][right after summoning his familiar and that was]
His little mistress paused for a moment.
[the negotiations were not broken off][,][just delayed while he served as a knight].[he was very nice to me when he visited for the negotiations].[we have not spoken to each other in a long time though][,][so I have not confirmed it yet]
We need to practice more with this. Get some better punctuation, at least. More immediately, though: [you get to decide that][?]
[of course].[what if we do not get along][?][it has been almost ten years since we have seen each other]
[i see].[how do you think he will react to our relationship as mistress and familiar][?]
There was another pause, as Louise thought it over. [probably the same way everyone does] she finally sent back. [i am going to tell him that you act as my secretary tutor]
Which was . . . not quite a lie. But certainly not entirely honest, either. Jason had no real idea what to make of it.
Ball's in her court. Hell, she's a noble and we're just a commoner. That ball's been in her court from the beginning.
But maybe we waited too long to lay our cards on the table.
Riding the horse wasn't too bad at first. It even seemed like he was starting to sit a little easier . . . but the sun was not very high in the sky before it started to hurt.
Not as much as seeing the quirk of his little mistress's lips as she smilingly engaged Jean-Jacques in conversation – and too far away for Jason to try to join in! – but the physical aspect of the journey was quickly growing unpleasant as well.
Then Captain Wardes stopped his gryphon, and he almost crashed into the horses in front of him before he managed to get his mount to follow suit.
[what is going on][?] he asked Louise.
[it is time to switch mounts] she replied. [you cannot ride that one anymore at this pace][,][or she will founder]
[oh]
Getting off the horse was not fun. Nor was getting on the next one.
The next remount was even worse, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out in pain as he saddled up the third horse and laboriously mounted it.
Then he had to ride the damned beast, a steady melody of pain in his nether regions, while Jean-Jacques kept his little mistress entertained and, by her laughter that frequently drifted back, thoroughly charmed.
When it came time to switch to the fourth and final horse – and it wasn't even noon, was La Rochelle really this close to the Academy? - Louise sighed, shook her head, and saddled up the fourth horse herself, before transferring Jason via Levitation.
[thank you] he sent, while trying to find a way to sit that wouldn't hurt too much.
[just keep riding].[we have a long way to go]
So it proved. The gryphon seemed to have inexhaustible stamina, which seemed really weird for a lion-eagle hybrid, especially carrying double. Which meant it was probably an auxilum at work. But whatever the reason, the horses were not inexhaustible, and they were exchanged at a relay station a few miles onward. Once again, Louise did the saddling herself and transferred Jason from horse to horse with her wand.
"Sorry I'm putting you to so much trouble," he muttered to her through gritted teeth that afternoon at the second relay station, where they exchanged the second set of horses for a third.
"It's . . . fine," she replied, just as quietly, although her set expression gave the lie to her reassurance. "You said you didn't have much practice, and you've surely proved that. Let's focus on getting to La Rochelle."
Sixty Miles in the Saddle, by Major Assburns. Heh. And ow. Pity that puns usually don't survive the translation.
Sixty miles was a guess, of course. It was getting later in the afternoon, so they'd been on the road for hours, and the horses had been mostly trotting – which hurt, only that was a sad understatement – so sixty miles probably wasn't too far off. And at least the pain took his mind off of his little mistress and the arranged marriage that she'd never bothered to mention.
The captain's bedamned gryphon was still looking fresh enough, though. He joined the Gryphon Knights after summoning his familiar, so that probably is his familiar. Or just has a really handy native auxilum, if it somehow isn't. Or maybe a spell or nobilum, but you'd think he'd bring enough to share if that were it. Whatever the cause, distracting himself with speculation pushed back the unrelenting agony in his nethers a bit-
But then they passed through the treeline. [there it is][!][soon we will be at an inn].[jean jacques has already agreed to look at your saddle sores]
That was good, he supposed, but if La Rochelle was in front of them-
It was no sea-side harbor that greeted their view. What lay in front of them was a small mountain, with buildings in the side of the mountain, and towards the top were some forest patches and more buildings.
And they weren't turning away from the mountain, either, but heading directly toward it.
[the mountain is la rochelle][?]
[that is right]
[and its a port city][?]
[yes of course]
Amazing. He'd found something that truly distracted him from the fact that his backside felt rawer (and likely bleeding!) than a fresh inmate's ass in a Louisiana prison.
[Louise][why did you not ever mentioned that you people have airships][?]
That got her to toss a concerned look back at him. [what do you mean][?][you read those pierre de vos books].[what do you think he flies in][?]
Jason blinked. Yes, the pirate had more than once flown to the rescue . . . dammit! [thought that was poetic license][,][that he was sailing swiftly][,][not that his ship was actually flying]
[that is silly].[ships large enough to go raiding are too big to spend on their time on a river or in a lake]
[what about the ocean][?] Although we've not actually seen a map of Halkagenia, so for all we know there is no ocean nearby.
[i told you not to be silly][!][if someone tried to sail the ocean][,][they would be capsized by the sea monsters in days][,][if not hours]
[oh].[i suppose that would matter]
She tossed him a curious look, before going back to listening to the man she was riding with. [are you saying you do not have sea monsters where you are from][?]
[we do][,]but the giants of the sea do not attack ships].[the largest only eat the plants that grow in the water] Yeah, yeah, krill. He was summarizing, not giving a lesson in Terran marine biology.
[you come from a very strange land]
It was enough to make him laugh . . . but that hurt even worse, so he stopped. If you're used to living in a D&D deathworld, Earth would seem pretty strange in comparison.
And they have airships to make up for it! Frakking airships!
[mister colbert showed me something called firestones].[is there an airstone that helps keep ships flying][?]
[of course][!][a ship cannot fly without enough windstone to]
Louise broke off as a hail of arrows erupted from concealment, the arrowheads glittering in the afternoon sun as they arced towards her, Captain Wardes, and Jason-
He had just enough time to bitterly regret not bringing a pair of revolvers along, and then the captain halted, lifted his wand, and cast a spell that blew the arrows off to the side.
Jason gritted his teeth and pushed his horse up to come even with the gryphon. "What's going on?" he gasped, between teeth clenched to keep himself from crying out in pain.
"Bandits, I would suppose," the captain replied calmly, before waving his wand again and disposing of a second flight of arrows. "Would you like a chance to deal with them, or shall I-"
He broke off as a Fireball erupted not far from where the bandits lay under cover, and Jason was spared the mortification of admitting that he had no ability to handle a bunch of bandits. Whereas it was blindingly obvious that Captain Wardes could not only no-sell the ambush, but probably dispose of the lot without even mussing his hair.
Then the blue-white body of a slender dragon passed over them from the trees towards the bandits, and a second Fireball was launched, this time landing close enough that some of the bandits screamed as they were burned alive.
[tabitha and kirche/zerbst] Jason and Louise sent the thought to each other almost simultaneously.
Damn. How'd those two find out about this expedition? Is it really that impossible to keep secrets at the Academy?
The wind dragon circled around, and a third Fireball fried the remaining bandits.
As the flames and screaming died down, the wind dragon came in for a landing in front of the group, nearly panicking the horses, and Kirche leapt off, strutting triumphantly as she approached. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she smirked.
In reply, Louise leapt off the gryphon – more and more Jason was regretting not putting in more equestrian practice at later Scout camps – and stalked over to her schoolyard nemesis. "What do you mean, 'sorry to keep you waiting'!? Why are you here in the first place?"
The redhead shrugged as she stared down at her much shorter rival. "Knew you were leaving, woke up Tabitha so we could follow, and we saw you meet with Viscount Wardes, your princess's Captain of the Guard. It seemed like too much fun to miss, so we've been following you ever since."
"Zerbst!" Louise gritted her teeth. "This has nothing to do with you! Go away."
"I told you before, Vallière, I'm not losing to your family. At least your 'familiar'," and here Louise stiffened at the implications in Kirche's inflection, "didn't keep you from coming along this time."
With that, she sauntered past her fuming rival, over to where Wardes still sat on his gryphon, watching the goings-on with an expressionless face. "Tabitha's poor Sylphid is all tired out from carrying both of us," the redhead said, flashing him a brilliant smile. "I wouldn't mind sparing her, if you could offer me a ride for the rest of the way."
The captain just looked at her for a moment, then turned to address Tabitha. "My compliments, Dame Tabitha. I was unaware of being followed the entire time."
The tiny azuretop, still mounted on her familiar, smiled slightly and nodded in reply.
"In any event," Wardes continued flatly, turning back to regard Kirche, "I already have a passenger. The mare that Miss Vallière's retainer is riding is fresh enough, and will last until we reach La Rochelle. You can double up with him if Dame Tabitha's familiar is too tired to carry you both."
A flash of something unpleasant crossed Kirche's face, but she quickly suppressed it, and after giving the captain another smile, made her way over to Jason. Louise didn't look happy about this new development, but she also didn't leap off the gryphon and yield her spot behind Captain Wardes to her rival. Jason was almost in too much pain to care.
"Well, at least they knew enough to give you a big horse," Kirche commented as she approached, looking him up and down.
"Har har," he replied, still keeping his teeth clenched. "Do you know enough to get a smooth gait out of these creatures?"
"Of course. You don't?"
"No."
"Well, so much for you being brought up on a farm," she smirked. Then she pulled out her wand, Levitated him back a bit – he had to clench his teeth even tighter to keep from screaming – and vaulted onto the saddle as smoothly as Louise had been managing.
But despite his fresh agony, the ride was smoother, as the voluptuous redhead took the reins and bade the mount follow Captain Wardes's gryphon once more.
"By the way, you reek, so don't even think about putting your arms around me to hold on."
By contrast, Kirche did not reek – she actually smelled rather nice, presumably flying dragon-back was all the air conditioning one needed to avoid sweating – but he wasn't about to say that. "Just pick me up if I somehow fall off, and I'll get out of the range of your nose as soon as we get to an inn in the city."
She turned her head just enough to shoot him a slightly unpleasant look – what, was he supposed to have tried to get her to change her mind? – before her gaze alighted on Louise, looking somewhat tired, and leaning forward to rest against Captain Wardes's back.
"You're letting the pink little bi- I mean, your 'master', ride with him like that?"
Jason might have been all too happy to let Kirche take the reins, since she did know how to get the blasted horse to smooth out its gait, but this was not something he wanted to do right then. Because even if his prospects were looking dimmer by the hour, seeing Louise snuggle up to her 'presumptive' fiancé was still making him jealous, at least when he had brain-cycles to spare from enduring the ever-mounting agony of the journey. Despite the smoother gait he was still in constant pain.
Oh, and Kirche's delightfully female presence wasn't helping him when it came to thinking clearly.
"You say that as if I could stop her," he growled. Grumpiness was better than angst. Maybe.
Or maybe not, with the flash of triumph in the redhead's eyes as she turned to shoot him another look. "Oh? You mean she forgot you as soon as a handsome older man showed up?"
Perhaps it was just his grumpiness, adopted as a social shield. Perhaps it was fueled by the surge of jealousy he felt at her comment. Perhaps it was simply that she was prying into matters that were none of her business, and he was feeling protective of his little mistress like a good familiar ought.
Whatever the reason, Jason snarled for a moment, before morphing into a grimace that resembled a smile. Sort of. Eat shit and die, you scheming bitch. "Kirche, Kirche, Kirche. Haven't you learned by now that as soon as Louise is involved, no man with sense wants anything to do with you?"
She paled, her eyes blazed, and her mouth opened to deliver some presumably withering retort . . . but perhaps she saw the gleam of satisfaction that bloomed in his eyes at her reaction. Whatever the reason, Kirche stiffened, turned away to focus on the road . . . and suddenly the horse's gait was even rougher than his inexpert handling had produced.
Jason choked down another scream as it felt like his entire ass was being ripped off, and told himself that it was worth it.
They stopped in front of a marble building that proclaimed itself the Goddess Temple Inn.
[which goddess] Jason wanted to know. [lyzodael][?]
[she was a saint][,][not a goddess] Louise responded. [this inn is dedicated to freya][,][an ancient goddess of magic].[why would nobles stay anywhere else][?]
[of course] Freya. That name sounds familiar, but we can't quite remember where it's from.
His little mistress got off the gryphon and came over to where he was sitting on the horse. She winced as she looked at how he was sitting. "Jean-Jacques needs to see to your saddle-sores," she said, "but first we're going to get a pair of rooms. Stay here, and I'll come get you once they've been arranged."
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak clearly after the final agony of Kirche's revenge.
"And how are we dividing the rooms?" his redheaded tormentor asked silkily. "Will you be rooming with us, or with your two men? Even I don't do that very often."
Louise's nose flared at the implication, and she glared up at her rival. "You weren't asked along on this, Zerbst. You and Dame Tabitha can get your own rooms, as it pleases you. And the Academy is in recess for the summer, so you will keep a civil tongue regarding my conduct or I will call you out. This inn has a perfectly acceptable court of honor."
Kirche stiffened, and just sat there as her rosecrown rival turned about and accompanied Captain Wardes through the front doors of the Goddess Temple Inn.
Then she slid down from the horse, and smirked up at Jason. "The pink little bitch has grown teeth! For that alone, I should thank you. Now be a good little 'retainer' and watch our mounts until stabling is arranged."
She turned around, and there was Tabitha, who'd apparently dismounted and quietly approached while they weren't paying attention. The redhead grinned at the tiny azuretop, and some signal Jason didn't catch seemed to pass between them, before they went into the Inn together.
We'd better hope no one tries to take any of these animals, he thought to himself. There's pretty much nothing we could do about it if they did. Even if it's not quite as bad, now that this damn horse isn't moving.
Fortunately, it wasn't too many minutes before Louise and Captain Wardes returned, accompanied by several stable-hands. Who stopped and froze when they saw the gryphon and the dragon.
"S-sir," one of the stable-hands began, "we do have an aerie available for the griffin, but the dragon-"
"The dragon is not my concern," Wardes replied. "Stable Aanval where you will. He's too well-mannered to eat horseflesh that isn't clearly given to him, but I imagine his dining habits would disturb the rest of the stable."
"Yessir. Jon," the stable-hand said to one of the others, "go to the glue factory and see what they have ready for the slaughter. The rest of you take these horses in hand, looks like they've all been ridden hard today. If the dragon is with those two foreign mages . . ." He trailed off and shook his head. "We'll let them deal with it."
Louise approached Jason as the stable-hand gave out his orders. "Your room has a large bed, you'll be able to rest well enough once you're lying down."
He nodded, then grunted in pain as she Levitated him off the horse and brought him inside. The interior was a bit of a blur, although he had the distinct impression of silk and lavish decorations, and then they were stopping in front of a door, and going inside.
His view was cut off as his little mistress deposited him on a large bed face down. "I need you to find out how badly he's hurt, Jean-Jacques," she then said softly. "I'll arrange my things in the other room."
"That room is smaller, for servants," Captain Wardes replied. "Surely you should be sending him there, while we-"
"Not after Zerbst's crack about my conduct!" Louise exclaimed. Then her voice shifted back to the softer tone she'd just used. "I, I'm sorry. But I didn't expect to have to endure her for this mission. I fear she has me somewhat out of sorts."
"It was nothing," the captain murmured, although not too quietly for Jason to be able to hear. "There's nothing shameful about spending the night in the company of your intended, but I've spent more than enough time in Bruxelles during the Season to understand your wish to observe strict propriety while in the sight of an enemy."
"Thank you, Jean-Jacques," she murmured back. There was silence for a moment. Easily long enough for the two to embrace, and Jason found himself scowling into the sheets.
Finally the moment ended, and his little mistress spoke up again. "Should we find a medico for him?" she asked, and at least her voice sounded concerned.
"That would be the obvious course of action, yes. That or procure a healing potion." Wardes paused. "However, her Highness impressed on me the importance of discretion in this mission of hers. I would prefer not to draw unnecessary attention. Not after we've already been attacked."
Can't deny he has a point. Those were probably just bandits that Kirche torched, but what if they weren't?
Besides, we've got the potions that Mr. Colbert gave us. The 'sovereign' healing potion ought to handle the mess on our ass and legs just fine.
Except, those potions are for emergencies, and this seems too petty a use for something that can probably bring someone back from the brink of death.
So he kept quiet.
"Is there anything you can do?" Louise then asked hopefully.
"Perhaps," the captain replied. "Go arrange your baggage and I shall see to him."
"Thank you," she said softly. There was another pause – again long enough for an embrace, dammit! – and then Louise's lighter footsteps left the room.
"Now, as for you," Captain Wardes said, addressing Jason, "that's more blood on the back of your pantaloons than I'm happy with. And my affinity is for Wind, not Water. But any noble with cavalry experience is well-advised to be able to handle saddle-sores, so I'll do what I can to fix the worst of it. But if you don't heal cleanly, you may need to stay here under the care of a medico after we leave."
"Whatever happens, happens," Jason grunted. Although he did not want to think about Louise and her fiancé continuing on alone.
"As Brimir wills, yes," said fiancé agreed. "Now, can you get those pantaloons off, or do I need to cut them away? If you can remove them, I believe the staff here should be able to clean them well enough."
"Let me unbuckle them," Jason replied, gasping as his attempt to slip his hands under his body to get at the three different layers of built-in belt resulted in a fresh wave of pain.
But once he had his bottom clothes undone, an unanticipated advantage of losing weight came into play, as they were pulled off with a minimum of additional pain. Enough, of course that he had to keep his teeth again clenched to avoid howling in pain.
Captain Wardes whistled. "You must not have ridden for years," he observed. "Most Knights learn to ride long before they join an order, of course. But there's always a few who don't, such as an unacknowledged bastard who summons a familiar that can be ridden. They have to be trained intensively, to make up for their lack of experience. The ones I was responsible for would fall off, screaming, before they were half this bloody." Was that a hint of respect in his voice?
"No point in collapsing before we made it to La Rochelle," Jason gasped. "But yeah, it's been almost ten years since I did any riding."
"Ah. I'll not inquire into the misfortune your family must have suffered. But that lack of practice explains why your posture was so wretched. Now, this is going to hurt, I fear." The captain then chanted a short spell, and patches of pain on Jason's ass and thighs blossomed into fresh, burning agony.
The breath hissed through his teeth as he fought yet again to avoid screaming.
After an indeterminate time, Captain Wardes uttered another spell, and the worst of the pain vanished in blessed relief. "Give it a little while and then see if you can stand. If you are able to stand up, I want you to soap up thoroughly and then soak in hot water before you go to sleep."
"And if I can't?" Jason asked, now that he could speak again.
"Then we shall repeat the process and hope for the best, but it's likely that a medico would need to be summoned after that." There was a pause, then the captain continued: "You have the worst case of saddle-sores I've ever treated. It's no shame to admit that I may lack the expertise to effect the needed relief."
Jason nodded. After a little while, when it almost felt like he could sit down and not pass out from the pain, he wiggled over to the edge of the bed and eased himself off of it and onto his feet.
His knees nearly buckled as the change in posture summoned a fresh wave of pain, but he locked them together and managed to push himself erect.
And frankly, he presented a ludicrous image, standing there in just his shirts, naked from the waist down, but he still felt a small glow of pride as Captain Wardes nodded. "Very well. This room has a small bath for soaking. I expect you'll wish to make use of it, and it'd be best not to wait."
Jason nodded again, looked around, spotted the door that had to lead to the bath that the other man had just indicated, and tottered off. He had to admit, that for all that he missed showers more than baths, the idea of a soak sounded real good just then.
[how are things going with you][?] he asked, as he took off the rest of his clothing and began soaping up. It hurt, but not nearly as much as it would have before Captain Wardes's treatment.
[I have my room sorted out] she replied. [but jean jacques was right][,][this is clearly a room for servants].[there is not even a private bath][!]
[is that a standard thing for nobles][?][it is not at the academy] The bath itself was already steaming, and for all that Captain Wardes had called it 'small', it was big enough for half-a-dozen people to sit down in.
[for nobles who have been riding and are tired and do not want to have to deal with other people by going down to the public baths][?][yes it is something we expect while we wait for our ship to be ready to go] Louise paused. [jean jacques is here].[he wants to know if I want him to escort me to the public baths]
Um. [have fun then] The hot water was not pleasant against his sores, but even with whatever spells the captain had used, they almost certainly needed to be cleaned out if he wanted to avoid infection. So, like the burning that the first spell had caused, this was the good kind of pain. Even if it didn't feel like it.
Hopefully the good kind of pain.
[if zerbst and dame tabitha showed up it would not be fun].[i will wait until you two are done and then use the bath I ought to be using anyway]
Well, at least she's not going to indulge in naked bath-time with him. It wasn't much, really, but combined with Louise's intention to sleep alone it was something. Although it meant he owed Kirche a bit of gratitude for cock-blocking the captain.
A little while later, Captain Wardes joined Jason in the hot tub. They soaked for a bit before the older man said anything.
"You serve as her secretary-tutor. What have you been instructing Miss Vallière in?"
Jason did his best not to show the quick flash of panic that washed over him at the question. After all, the captain didn't look particularly upset, just interested. "I thought I might be teaching her the Quadrivium," which sounded pretty good to him for just 2 seconds to think up bullshit, "but it turns out I have a knack for helping her figure out how to get her magic to cooperate. Naturally, she's been focusing on that."
"The 'Four Paths'?"
"Yep." Not that we actually know what that particular Latin word translates to. Nor are we sticking to the precise definition. "Once you know basic arithmetic, there are four fields of math that are opened up – algebra, geometry, trigonometry, and calculus – and those are the tools needed to understand the next level after that, which is physics."
Captain Wardes blinked. "I have heard of 'geometry', I believe, as something that Earth mages might study, but I don't recognize those other words."
"No?" That could make sense. Possibly. Algebra was pioneered by Babylon, while the ancient Greeks preferred geometry. "Okay, algebra is advanced arithmetic, the rules for looking at math problems from many points of view. Geometry is, of course, the math that describes shapes. Trigonometry builds on that, with the calculation of angles. Calculus then builds on them all, and is the math needed to start to understand time and space. Physics is the study of . . . well, sometimes it's called 'natural philosophy'. The, uh, fundamental rules of reality, at least when magic isn't interfering."
The captain gave him a steady look. "But you haven't been teaching her such, because she wishes to study magic instead."
Jason nodded. "I'm sure you know that her magic has refused to cooperate with her all her life. Little wonder that she'd rather focus on it."
Captain Wardes inclined his head. "Indeed. My duties as a Gryphon Knight have kept me busy, of course, but naturally I have been kept aware of her difficulties."
Naturally because you also have to confirm the betrothal? And no one would expect you to, if she never unlocked her magic? He was not going to wish that the other man . . . hell with it, it would have been better for him if Jean-Jacques had broken off the engagement back when Louise was First Form. But that wasn't what had happened, so there was no use dreaming. "Well, I'm not a mage, and I didn't come into the situation knowing how magic is supposed to work, so after we discussed her problems a little, I had some ideas, and she humored me enough to try them out. And it turned out that those ideas worked for her, at least well enough to go on with. As I'm sure she could tell you, it's still a lot of work for her."
"And her element is Fire. Her parents are Wind and Earth, and I would not have expected them to produce a mage of Fire." Was that an odd gleam in the other man's eye, as he said that?
Jason shrugged. If there was some sort of issue about Louise's parentage, nobody had ever mentioned it. "Well, maybe that's part of why her magic seems to be awry. I was there when she was tested in all the elements, and the only positive result she got was from trying to cast Ignite. But Fire elementari still give her plenty of trouble, so it's always possible that the one of the other elements would suit her better, and she was just tested on a spell that wasn't suited to her."
"They continue to give her trouble?" Yes, the captain was definitely intent on something.
"Well, she's working on Ignite, Firebolt, and Fireball, but-"
"Hold a moment. She is not practicing Extinguish?"
What-? Right, that safety lecture Mr. Colbert gave, way back at the beginning. "I'm sure she will, once she has Ignite down. Firebolt and Fireball are more about range and accuracy training." He grimaced. "And to give her something to work on, since everyone else has managed to learn Ignite by now."
Captain Wardes narrowed his eyes. "How is Miss Vallière practicing Firebolt, let alone Fireball, when she is unable to cast Ignite?"
"Mr. Colbert says she's not doing any of them correctly, although she is managing to light a candle with Ignite these days. She's not producing fire when she casts Firebolt or Fireball, but making fire isn't why she's practicing them. Like I said, it's about improving her range and accuracy. Once she untangles whatever is wrong with how she casts Ignite, I'm sure the rest will follow."
"Perhaps," the captain sighed, leaning back. "It's still not what you'd expect, from someone of her lineage." But despite his words, the gleam in his eye seemed satisfied.
Jason leaned back as well, shifting his seat to allow the hot water a little more access to his sores. "She's got plenty of vis, you know. She wouldn't be able to practice nearly as much as she does if her vis were at the normal level for students her age. And since Ignite is the key to other Fire elementari, once she works the problem that's holding her back with it, I'm sure she'll make rapid progress with the next spells she studies."
"Let us hope so. She was an adorable child, and is a sweet girl, but that doesn't mean nearly as much as it ought, so long as she struggles with magic."
Sweet? Well . . . yes, when she's not upset about something. And she did go into kitten mode as soon as she saw you, didn't she?
Which could just mean that Louise had high expectations, and he'd been failing miserably to meet a lot of them. Unlike Captain Wardes, who was handsome and powerful. Two things that he couldn't really compete on.
Of course, the good captain seems to have high expectations of his own. Wouldn't it be nice if he switched his attention to one of her older sisters? Not that we dare suggest such. Louise would be enraged if we did, and she'd be right to be angry about us sabotaging her.
Dammit.
His little mistress claimed the bath as soon as the two men got out of her way. While she was there, Jason's stomach rumbled, and he realized with some dismay that now that he was no longer being distracted as much by his saddle sores, he was quite hungry from skipping lunch.
[Louise][i do not mean to interrupt][,][but what do we need to do to get fed at this inn][?]
[you do not need to do anything] she replied. [we are having meals sent in].[jean jacques said you should eat plenty of red meat to help build your blood back up from bleeding all day so the staff have prepared a generous stew for you]
[thank you]
And shortly after his little mistress came out of the bath, her hair still a bit damp, the meals were delivered. Along with a low couch.
Louise and Captain Wardes looked at Jason quizzically, once the staff left.
"What?" he asked. "What am I doing wrong?"
"It's what you aren't doing," the captain replied. "The divan is for your benefit, after all."
". . . What?"
"Jason, you shouldn't sit down, not while you're still healing," Louise pointed out, sounding a bit impatient. "Lie down on the divan while you eat. That's why they brought one in the first place."
"Oh. That's, uh, that's more luxurious treatment than I'd expected."
"You aren't the first to show up with saddle sores, I assure you," Captain Wardes said drily. "Commoners may not rate such treatment ordinarily, but your circumstances are unusual."
Jason nodded. "Thank you for arranging it." He limped over to the saddlebags that the Academy had provided, pulled out a spoon and the fork, silently blessing the fact that Mr. Colbert had made them for him already-
"What are those?" the captain asked sharply.
"The one with a tiny bowl on the end is a spoon," Louise told him. "One of the instructors made it for him. It's an eating tool. Jason, what's the other one?"
"A fork. Used to lift solid bits of food, such as meat, that might not be easily handled with a spoon."
"Allowing you to mimic some of the aspects of Levitate. At least for dishes within the reach of your arms." Captain Wardes nodded. "Remarkably clever, for a commoner."
"Thank you," Jason replied, after taking a moment to try to scrub any hint of sarcasm from his voice and expression.
He wasn't sure if he'd succeeded.
Eating while lying on his side on the divan wasn't terribly easy . . . but the ancient Romans did it all the time, so that was probably a matter of practice. And it did let him avoid putting any more pressure on his backside than absolutely necessary.
Once the meal was over, Captain Wardes cast a spell on Jason that he said would prevent him from being as stiff in the morning. Louise didn't seem alarmed by the claim, so he followed her cue and assumed that the captain was casting in good faith.
Afterward, he went straight to bed, while Louise and her . . . fiancé went out for a stroll. He fell asleep before they returned.
He'd apparently slept the sleep of the just, for there was sunlight coming through the balcony window when Jason woke up. Also an urgent need to relieve himself.
Fortunately, the treatment provided by Louise's . . . fiancé had proven effective: His thighs and backside were now merely sore and aching, rather than raw and bloody. So he was able to limp over to the toilet alcove – which wasn't the same little room where the hot tub resided – and use it unassisted. And the Goddess Temple Inn had the convenience of magical cleaning, instead of the rags that he'd had to use for a month at the Charming Faerie Inn. For which he was very grateful.
The necessary taken care of, Jason limped back out into the suite, and eyed the bathroom. Another soak didn't sound so bad, and no one else was up yet. But then there was the entrance to the smaller room where Louise had slept. A sudden suspicion swept over him, and he made his way over to that door, opened it a crack, and took a long, quiet sniff.
Good, it doesn't smell like they- He flushed and quietly closed the door, before giving himself a quick slap to the back of his head. You jealous, paranoid fool! What concern of yours is it if a betrothed couple choose to spend the night together? Hell, back home only the really strict sects expect their members to wait until the wedding night.
Not that any sense of morality is what's got us bothered, is it? We just don't want Louise to seek the embraces of another man. Jason closed his eyes and shook his head . . . but when he opened them back up he did look over to the bed, where Captain Wardes lay sleeping on the other half.
Fool. Even if she was starting to entertain notions that her culture would never permit, unless maybe we somehow start displaying some damned impressive auxilia, we've been over this! She's not been encouraging us to tiptoe any further over the forbidden line since we got back from Bruxelles, if anything she's stepped back, and here's her family-approved, high-status, good-looking, skilled, and powerful fiancé. Who she blushed at in the clearing, merely because he said hello to her.
Who she happily spent all day chatting with, while we rode behind the both of them in ever-increasing misery.
Face it, you idiot. This isn't just a battle we can't hope to win, it's one we lost as soon as the other fellow took the field.
Jason shook his head again, and went into the bathroom.
There, soaking in the hot water, he gave voice to the other side of the argument. "Maybe it was inevitable. Or maybe I might had a chance if things had gone otherwise, even if it wasn't much of a chance.
"But even if something like this was bound to happen, I didn't expect it to happen so soon."