Chapter 2

The Queen's Summons

Reaver leaned back on the elaborate carriage seat, twirling a curl of his hair. He was halfway leaning over the seat, glancing out at the thick fields of the Millfield farmers. He'd always found farms a beautiful example of humanity. They were, at a base level, man telling the earth how and what to grow. Man taking their destiny in his own hands, making his food, no longer dependent on fate and hunting to feed himself. And of course, it reminded him of his childhood in Oakvale, working in his family's farm. He'd almost bought a farm himself, simply for the sake of nostalgia, but abhorred the concept of working on a field. He looked back inside the carriage. Garth was sitting on the bench across from him, his head down. He was breathing gently, almost unmoving in his sleep. Reaver glanced quickly to his cane, which was propped against the side door. That was his greatest tool. With it, he had a chance against enemies from any distance. He could use any gun to kill someone, but only one sword worked for him. He looked up to his hat, which rested on a stand over his head. He had his full uniform, his long white tailcoat with black fur lining hanging on one stand with Garth's blue traveling jacket, his boots across the floor and his slacks and waistcoat hugging his figure. He'd never had the muscles of those who wielded normal weapons, but what muscles he did have were those of a gymnast, hard and wiry. Even when he'd decided to go berserk with eating for about five years, he'd never gained more than twelve pounds, and as soon as he started pirating, he'd lost it all. Likely a side effect of immortality.

"Ah, Garth, if only you could see past your own concerns, you might know how hard it is to be what I am…" Reaver whispered. He looked Garth over, the man's long white braids, his glowing blue lines all across his visible skin, his intricate belt with several artifacts, scrolls and potions on it. The man was wearing basic clothes otherwise, a loose fitting blue shirt and dark pants, all of it embroidered with the markings of the Old Kingdom and ancient runes of Samarkand. Garth really hadn't aged much since Reaver had left Samarkand. He'd remained as handsome as he was before. Reaver reached out his hand slowly, moving to caress Garth's face.

The carriage suddenly bounced over a relatively large rock and jostled the two, awaking Garth with a start.

"What in?" Garth shook his head. Reaver withdrew his hand in an instant. Garth looked at him for a moment, then glanced out the window. The landscape was still covered with farms but a small bit of fog could be seen in the distance.

"We aren't that close…somebody just cannot drive…" Reaver opened the carriage door and leaned his head out.

"Girod, if you hit one more rock, I'm going to dispose of you like I did my last servant, Barry Hatch. Would you like to end up balvarine fodder?"

"No sir! Sorry sir."

"Reaver…you feed your servants to balvarines?"

"Actually, that was Page's fault. I liked Barry. He was very loyal, and shorter than me. And that lisp, oh how delightful."

"I'd say you're a strange man, but I'm not a hypocrite, so I'll call you vain."

"Oh ho, Garth! Come now, even you have preferred traits. I do admit to being rather vain however. I did sacrifice my entire village for these perfect features and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Hmph…" Garth grunted in thought.

"You discover something? Figure out the Reaver vanity spell?

"No, but it is interesting. Most people gifted with long lives are wiser, and more gracious. You however, became an unreasonable, discourteous, and selfish."

"Oh come now! The majority of Albion's people, the Aurorans, and even most of your eccentric people would abuse the chance to be immortal, just as I have. It's simply that, generally, those gifted with long life or able to discover it are thoughtful, wise fossils, like yourself," Reaver said, leaning back. Garth sat up and watched the man as he twirled his hair again.

"I just wanted to live. I didn't want to age…I was afraid of death, of growing old…that wasn't me!" Reaver shook the thought away and looked at Garth, "Are you afraid of death, old mage?"

"One does not fight the Life-Eater for ten years and fear death."

"You don't fear the darkness, or nothingness?"

"I lost the ability to be afraid. I would have died had I not. I doubt many Aurorans still fear it either."

"Yes, well, I've never stared death in the face…except maybe Lucien, but we all know how that turned out. And you my friend…I thought you might crush me with those rocks in the reliquary…anyway, death is generally unknown to me, besides causing it of course, and the unknown is hard to come to terms with…"

Garth smiled, almost smugly. "Hmm…the infallible Reaver…it can be easy to forget that you're just a human with doubts and fears like everyone else."

"Don't tell anyone that! I've an image to uphold. And convince Page to stop hating me!"

"I tried. I even lied to her so that she would stop hating you. I've done all I can."

"Wait…you just….you didn't make her hate me?"

Garth looked at Reaver like he'd grown a second head. "Of course not. Why would I waste my time with you when I was trying to save Page? No Reaver, you did that yourself, by trying to kill her and looking down on her and doing all the things you did when Logan was king."

"Well then…I guess I have quite the hatchet to bury with her don't I? I'd still like to bed her…and the Queen…we could throw that Ben Finn man in there too. You're welcome to come as well, I'm sure we could find some room for you too,"

"Ah...Reaver…" Garth said, pinching his temples, the will lines in his body flashing faintly in frustration.

"Quickly! Get that door covered soldier. Hobson, where is my pointer?"

"Right here your majesty…" Hobson said with a bow, handing the Queen her instructional stick. She took it and began moving pieces on a map, starting with a small pin symbolizing an army to Millfields. She then pushed two small Guild Seals, one yellow and one blue, which symbolized Garth and Reaver, to Bowerstone Castle.

"As long as Ben Finn is covering Brightwall, East Albion should be okay. West Albion is of more concern."

"My lady, I am ready to offer you a navy, the size of which is unmatched in the world, but I must ask for an increase of troops in the desert fort. We will need protection from the army. Have we not suffered enough?" Kalin, the leader of the Aurorans, a hairless chieftain who was a close friend of the Queen, entered the room. While the Queen often struggled to come up the vast sums of money necessary to keep the Aurorans safe, she agreed again and again to help them. This would be no different.

"Alright Kalin, take what you need,"

"Thank you your majesty. Our navy is yours."

"My Queen," Jasper said, running into the room, "The heroes are here!"

"Good, we will need their help if we are to defend ourselves against this next wave of darkness." The Queen turned from Kalin and walked with her to the castle gates. There, Garth and Reaver exited their carriage and meet the Auroran and Alban leaders.

"Kalin! What a pleasure! How's that wasteland? Is the mine still abandoned and the precious metals unused?"

"No, we've actually started operations, if you'd like to know, without you. And the workers get reasonable pay, benefits, and breaks, unlike those slaves and children you fill your factories with."

"Bah! Slaves cannot leave their jobs, and besides, I'm going straight to my factory and cleaning it out as soon as we've answered this summons. Now, your majesty…"

"I would like to ask for your Skill. We now stand on the brink of war…"

"What?" Garth asked, shocked. He'd obviously assumed that he'd been asked to just talk with the Queen. It appeared pleasantries would have to wait.

"Garth, I need all the strength I can muster now. The people of the nation of Francia have threatened us. They have killed our envoys and struck at our merchant vessels between Aurora and Albion."

"But…Francia? It is an insular kingdom to the far southeast, across the Auroran channel. What purpose do they have attacking Albion?" Garth asked.

"The Franican navy has attacked our ships before; though we have always resolved the conflict between us before violence embroiled our kingdoms. However, they claim that today, the people of Albion released a monstrous darkness on them, and they only have beaten it back and not defeated it. They claim that Albion will be a safer home for their people, and will conquer it so as to make it such. Their ships are already moving to establish an embargo around our land. We cannot let them take our nation, or release their darkness on us."

"What is the name of this darkness?" Garth yelled suddenly, grabbing the Queen by her bodice. In an instant the rifles of the Queen's personal soldiers were aimed at his head along with half a dozen swords from the standard castle guard.

"What…"

"What is the name of the darkness in Francia?"

"Uh…they called it the…Dueler…"

"…Then we have even less time…" Garth said, releasing the Queen from his grasp. He turned away and in deep thought. He suddenly spun around to face Reaver.

"You know your duties…"

"I shall attend to them at once," Reaver said with a bow. He walked out, moving gracefully and catlike to the door. Garth looked back to the Queen.

"Reaver and I will fight with you, your majesty, and we will prepare. But know that this darkness is a threat like the Crawler, and many times great than any Francian fleet. You must arrange a meeting with the King of Francia, and with a great deal of urgency. I believe the island of Godwin is under the Crown's control, correct? This would be a good place for a meeting. You must assure him that we have not done this, and that we will help them fight the Dueler."

"No! The Crawler returns? Fine, I shall meet with him, but what will you do?"

"Reaver and I have a plan. Just allow us to move freely through Albion and be ready to fight upon our return," Garth nodded and left the room. The Queen looked at her guards, who saluted and exited with the Hero, leaving her with Jasper and Kalin.

"What should we do your highness?" Kalin asked.

"Send a message to the Francians. We will prove our innocence."

"Well, this trail is a lot less scary without an army of Balvarines coming after us," Ben Finn said, smiling at Page. She halfheartedly looked at him, then to the gentle snow littering the ground.

"I agree…" Page said. Ben rubbed his hands together and glanced around, nervously thinking of something to say.

"I…um…what's…uh…is something wrong?"

"Yes…I still can't get over what Garth said. To think he implanted my hatred of Reaver…that the hatred's not mine…"

"But you've taken it over all yourself. The hatred of Reaver is completely yours Page. At least now it is."

"I used to think that…but now, my childhood memories are foggy, and it seems that most aren't even mine. I didn't have any parents. I was an orphan, a street rat who had only my brother and the other child laborers to look out for me…or was that even true? Was Cedric even my brother? Was I really a daughter of Samarkand?"

"I don't know Page…my world has been rocked to. My parents and brothers, were all adopted, unreal…my mother was a Hero…hey, I've got an idea! Once we've gotten what we need, I say we go into the reliquary. In there are the treasures and goods of each hero. I can see the treasures of my mother, and you can see the treasures of your uncle, and maybe we can find some clarity."

"That may be a good idea." Page said. She turned to Ben Finn and kissed him on the cheek, making him gawk slightly.

"You know Major Finn you're quite something."

"Well, thank you…" He said, blushing badly. He'd wanted to be with Page for a long time. Now, even though Reaver was the center of their recent conversation, he might get a chance.

"So, we're planning to stay at the Queen's caravan for the night right? The one with the luxury bed?"

"Not so fast Ben. I'm a pious girl, or so Garth implanted on me," Page said, holding a hand out. Ben sighed. He'd never get to be with Page. It would never be anything more than an occasional kiss on the cheek.

"Now, Ben, I'm not resistant to it. I just want to wait for the right…moment." Page knocked Finn aside as a gunshot rung out in the mountain side. Highwaymen dropped from the trees surrounding the two.

"Well, look what's wandered into our humble abode, a rich lady from Bowerstone with her little guard. I wonder how much we could sell ya back for lass."

"You're talking to the Mayor of Bowerstone you know!" Ben yelled, drawing his rifle. Page slapped her forehead and looked at Ben.

"Are you going to tell them how much money we have with us too?"

"Sorry…"

"Hey, this is the lass from Bowerstone fellows…we could make a pretty penny on…" the man was stopped from finishing his sentence with a shot from Ben's rifle, which killed the man immediately. The other highwaymen looked at his dead form then rushed the two.

"Kill the soldier! Get the lass!"

"I'm not as easy to capture as you think!" Page roared, drawing her sword and slashing an attacker so hard across the chest that the man flew off the mountain, crashing on the ground below. The two battled like old veterans, beating back a circle of enemies with well-placed shots and quick strikes. Soon, a bloody mass of highwaymen were all that remained of the bandits, leaving Page and Ben Finn smiling.

"I guess we are heroes."

"Oh, I'm not a hero, I'm just the best soldier in the Alban army," Ben Finn said proudly.

"Is that so?" A large mercenary appeared from behind a bend. He had gauntlets on his hands, which meant he could do a small amount of magic. Page and Ben turned their weapons to the man.

"I'm going to challenge that claim Major Finn, and get you out of this damned valley once and for all!"

"Muddy Mark…I thought I recognized your stench!" Ben said. He took four quick shots at the man, but they seemed to have no effect. The man blasted Ben with a fireball, which sent him to the ground, patting his shirt.

"Hold on Ben!" Page said, jumping in front of him, Avo's Lamentation in her hand. Muddy Mark tried to strike her, but she rolled aside and slashed at his leg, which sent him to the ground. He groaned as he rose again, kicking Page aside and hitting Ben with another fireball.

"Oh…" Ben Finn flipped over and snuffed the fires on his jacket then pulled himself onto one knee and grabbed his rifle again.

"Dirty Harriet, don't fail me…"

"Here I come, Major Finn! Ready to die?" Ben aimed straight at Muddy Marks head, then suddenly felt the rifle moving on its own. He fired at both of the large highwayman's knees then into his stomach, which had the man doubled over. Finally, the rifle fired once into the top of the man's head, sending his lifeless form to the side.

"Huh…I'm feeling that hero blood now."

"I guess so," Page said, holding a hand out and helping him to his feet, "Maybe I should let you lead and take out our enemies before they even know we're here," Page smiled and hugged Ben.

"Ben..."

"Yes Page…"

"You really are my Hero." She grabbed him and kissed him deeply on the lips.