SERENDIPITY

CHAPTER FIVE

LIGHT LUCK

Two days after the Merchants Festival, confetti still littered the streets and banners still hung from the rooftops. The excitement had worn off, and life in the Imperial City was back to normal.

Lucien and Celeste had decided to stay a few extra days, for one could not see all that the city has to offer in only one. They had visited the Arboretum, watched a match in the Arena, and visited nearly every shop. Lucien had gotten a new pair of boots and a furlined cloak, while Celeste had purchased a few more books on alchemy, along with equipment and some ingredients. They were strolling through the streets one last time before they left in a comfortable silence, their bags already slung over their shoulders.

Lucien felt a tap on his arm. He looked over and saw a man in a cloak that he didn't recognize. As he opened his mouth, the man shoved a scroll and a small leather coinpurse into his hand, then left. Celeste had stopped walking, and looked over, frowning. "Who was that? A courier?"

Lucien shook his head. He stepped out of the road, beneath the overhang of a shop, and Celeste followed. He pulled the vermillion ribbon holding the scroll together. The parchment unrolled, and Lucien saw a familiar elegant cursive scrawl on the page.

L,

Earlier tonight, on the eleventh, Gogron was returning from a contract. He said that a small group of men entered the city before him, and he followed them out of curiousity. They went to the Count, and they were brandishing posters that displayed a face he said seemed familiar - the woman that he had seen you with only a few days before. He came back to the sanctuary and told us immediately. The baron has sent out a search party for his wife, and he requested help from the Count. Now he has twenty-four men and nine well-trained hounds at his command. They're heading for the Imperial City. You must leave immediately. Go to Bruma, and then come back to Cheydinhal. You'll be safe here. Gogron said he overheard the men talking, and they were threatening death upon the man who had, for lack of a better word, 'stolen' Mrs. Lylieve. This is urgent. Leave when you recieve this letter, for they are surely close by. I've included enough gold for a horse; I don't believe you'll be able to pass them on foot.

I wish you luck,

Vicente

Lucien's breath caught in his throat. He grabbed Celeste by the elbow and lead her down a backstreet. "Lucien, wh - ?" she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Give me your bag." he commanded, and she complied. He pulled out a little glass bottle of perfume. "Have you ever used this before?" he asked. Celeste shook her head, looking extremely perplexed. "Good."

The perfume formed a cloud of mist around Celeste's head. She coughed and stumbled backward, pinching her nose. "What in Oblivion is wrong with you?" she whisper-yelled at Lucien. "I can't explain right now, just - just put on the rest of this. Use all of it, and here - take my cloak. Come on, hurry,"

Lucien looked around the corner, at the gates. They were there - exactly twenty-four men, some clad in mail and others in farmer's clothes, with nine hounds on leashes. Celeste tapped Lucien's arm. He turned to her. "Pull up your hood," he said, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and ears. "Keep your head down and follow my lead."

Lucien wrapped an arm around Celeste's waist. He kept his head high and didn't dare look beside him at the men. Just as he thought he had made it past without suspicion, one of them called to him.

"Oi! 'Scuse me, have you seen this woman, sir?"

The man held up a poster, and Lucien took it from him. Directly in the centre was a large likeness of Celeste, and beneath it words printed in bold type that called for her 'rescue' and the death of her captors. "No, sir, I haven't." Lucien said. The man frowned at him. "Well, be on your way. Keep that, and if she does turn up bring her back to the city."

Lucien tucked the paper into his cloak. Those men were right fools. Lucien was sure they would have caught them then and there. They walked down to the stables in silence, where Lucien paid for one horse. As the stablemaster untied and saddled the mare, Lucien bent down and whispered in Celeste's ear.

"Your darling husband has sent out a search party for you, and the Count of Cheydinhal is aiding him. Twenty-four men and nine hounds." he said. He felt Celeste tense. "We're skirting the city, stopping in Bruma, and going back to Cheydinhal. We'll be safe there, trust me."

The stablemaster handed the reins to Lucien. He thanked him and helped Celeste up, then climbed on himself. They rode in silence.

"All right. If we're going to keep running like this, you need to know how to ride a horse."

Celeste stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a thin line. "It's easy once you get the hang of it." he assured her, and seeing no change in her expression, added, "You'll be fine. I promise." He took her arm. "I never break my promises." Celeste smiled.

Lucien first showed her how to hoist herself up on to the horse, and how to sit when she was riding: sidesaddle for a dress, and straddling for trousers (she had finally agreed to wear them, at least for riding). He taught her all of the commands and walked beside her as she rode, then climbed on behind her.

"You're doing great." he said softly, placing a hand on either side of her waist to keep himself upright. "Keep her steady, and don't be afraid to command her every now and then." Celeste gave a breathy laugh and shook her head slightly. "If you keep on whispering in my ear like that, Lucien Lachance, I swear," she murmured. Lucien was taken aback. He pulled back and loosened his grip on her. He was silent for the rest of the ride, and she didn't press any further.

"Pst. Lucien, wake up."

Lucien awoke to Celeste's voice in his ear and her elbow nudging him hard in the ribs. He grunted, rubbing where she had poked him. "Sorry," she whispered, straightening up.

Lucien looked around, and knew immediately that they were in Bruma. The road was not pathed; it was packed, rocky soil, and the fields of grass lining it on either side were white and stiff with frost. The only colour in Bruma's barren countryside was the violet patches. They were never coated in ice, and they never withered and died. There was something that kept them going, but no one quite knew what it was.

Looking ahead, Lucien saw the great, snow-dusted city. He could see the church steeple looming in the fog. Celeste let out a low whistle. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Lucien remarked.

They reached the city in a period of minutes. Bruma had never been particularly busy, but there was always a slight hum in the air that reminded Lucien of the cicadas down south. Beside him, Celeste drew her cloak around her and pulled up her hood. There wasn't any sign of the baron's men just yet.

They rented a room and retired immediately, though it was nearly midday. Their plan was to rest and continue on to Cheydinhal as soon as possible; they couldn't spend too much time in one place, or someone would surely catch them.

Celeste rose first. She shook Lucien awake gently, then returned to her bed. As she pulled on her boots and began to lace them, she asked, "Why are we going to Cheydinhal, of all places?"

Lucien stopped midway through pulling on his shirt and sighed. "I can't explain it now. It'll all make sense once we get there." Celeste glanced up at him. "Promise?"

"Promise."

She stood and brushed dirt from her skirts, then tied her cloak around her shoulders. Her hair was tied back in a tight plait, to prevent any of it from being seen. She adjusted her hood and tightened her laces one more time, then looked to Lucien. They intertwined their fingers and left, returning the room key to the innkeep.

It was the Imperial City all over again. Standing just inside the city gates were five of the baron's men. They were talking to the Captain of the Guard, and thankfully they didn't pay Lucien and Celeste any mind. It was outside that they had to be careful - the rest of the men were camped near the stables, watering their horses and themselves. While Lucien untied the mare, he made sure that Celeste was close beside him.

"Say, that's a fine wife you've got there." one of the men called to Lucien. Celeste was silent, her head pointed down. She climbed on the horse and sat sidesaddle, pulling her hood down again. Lucien smiled at them. "Sure is. Been deaf since she was a girl." he replied, adopting an accent. Some of the men wolf-whistled. "You're a lucky man, you are."

Once they were out of earshot and out of sight of the men, Lucien heard Celeste let out something like a growl behind him. "Oh, you're not a lucky man." she said. "That fool of a soldier is the luckiest man alive because he's not dead yet."