A/N: Finally! I thought I was late. Writing a chapter out while sleep-deprived was also not my best move, but I'm glad that's over and something more interesting can take its place... say, a one-segment chapter.

Alex: Haha! Lorelei has always been hard to write because she's so overbearing on everybeast else. And no, I scrapped mind control. Too OP, apparently.


Chapter 5

Crossing through Gystra


I have traveled so far and loved so much, yet I am still following the sun trail, heading for my new hunting grounds. -Gray Wing, Path of Stars, by Erin Hunter


It didn't take Egil long to realise that Gystra was a very different place from Kaldos. The traversal of the Imperial and Kaldosian entourage across the plains of Tarvrik lasted a full week, and by the time they arrived, Egil was cold, wet, and miserable, drenched by the interminal rain of the season. Mere hours before they entered the city, they encountered a band of arrogant squirrels from Aventoft. One of the rodents thought that insulting Erlend Streambattle was a good idea, and within a minute steel was bared by both sides. It was only by the sweet words of Emperor Kiordan and the sudden appearance of Lamont Streambattle's middle son Blerun that violence was averted.

After the rains subsided and Egil wandered off into the market, the ferret was greeted with neither affection nor hostility. Instead, everyone stared at him like he was some sort of disease before finding somewhere else to be, thereby sparing the ferret the pleasure of their company. They were not missed. Some said that Lord Lamont was adamant that 'his' city was not to be sullied with the presence of vermin, while others insisted that the Steward allowed the Gystrans themselves to choose their own wardens. In either case, Egil stuck out horribly, as if he were a nail that somehow could not be hammered into a plank.

He had tried to ask for directions from a nearby mouse guardsbeast, but she threatened to give him a solid cuff about the ears to the head if he continued to pester her further and thus distract her from carrying out her all-important duty of watching the streets and little else. And so the young ferret found himself wandering the streets of the Travrikan side of Gystra.

The city was built on the Udso estuary, right on the border between Southsward and Travrik. After the former conquered the latter, the city naturally spread across the river, and, unlike the Travrikans in Kaldos, the Gystrans were rather content being ruled from Floret, with Lamont again to blame.

Egil groaned. Every street was starting to look the same, and he could not tell where he was going anymore. He took a right turn, and saw only rows of wooden houses, painted red to match those across the Udso.

The ferret quickly turned to his left and walked into another crowded area, hoping to buy himself a roasted fish or a few apples, but it seemed that he couldn't do that. Egil found himself surrounded by the clang of hammers on iron and silver and the sound of chisels cutting stone where soon new buildings would rise, but there was simply no food to be found anywhere. Sniffing the air in front of him did not yield any sign of food, and he figured that asking another Gystran would yield a result no different than the last. Still, it would not hurt to try.

Stepping back to get a wider view of the marketplace, Egil gasped as he collided into an otter, and a very familiar one at that. Very few otters in Gystra had the black fur borne by the Imperials west of the Spine, and even fewer were shorter than ferrets. "Your High-"

"Shush!" Kiordan swiftly put a claw to Egil's muzzle. "I'm trying to find somewhere, so please don't reveal my presence!" The ferret nodded, and the otter stepped back, rubbing his chin as he continued mumbling to himself. "Smiths, masons and architects are here, so… drat. It's on the other side of the city!" Turning back to Egil, Kiordan fashioned an awkward grin. "Oh, I was just thinking where the draper's guild is. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find a place to buy some food," Egil responded truthfully. "No luck here."

"There should be some up north or across the Udso. Would you like to accompany me?"

Egil thought for a second before nodding.

"Good. This way."

Having so spoken, the pair of mustelids made their way towards the river. Turning a sharp left, Egil paused at the sight of the foremost of Gystra's bridges. Having been to Gystra twice when he was a mere pup, Egil always felt old when he approached Stone Bridge, yet the sight of the sprawling project simultaneously awakened the giddy kit inside him. Back then, travellers like him had to go over unstable wooden bridges or slow barges if they wished to get across the Udso, and the ferret had watched as workbeasts lugged yet another massive, moss-darkened stone into place, building a bridge that was wider, taller, stronger, as if it had to support the weight of the whole world. But now, all had been finished, and while it certainly looked less impressive than when Egil was a wide-eyed child, it was still a marvel to behold.

"It took seventy years and four Streambattles to finish this bridge," said Kiordan, calmly gesturing to Egil to move again. "After all, bridges of stone require more effort to build than their wooden brethren, and the statues must have taken at least a season to sculpt for each squirrelking and otterlord."

Four Southswarder royals stood on the south side of the bridge while four of their Stewards watched from the north. Egil didn't recognise any of them, save for a select few. On the left was a plump squirrel with a crown of golden lilies around his head, and a scepter laid between his paws. Egil had expected King Willem to be thinner, but a gaze downwards quickly made him realise his mistake.

The figure to his right was another squirrel with an uncanny resemblance to the king. Prince Alberik died worn out after a life of disease and debauchery, but the sculptors somehow made him look like the true king he never lived long enough to be. Lamont must have offered them a considerable sum to honour the memory of his dead friend.

"They almost look like they're alive," replied Egil, looking around. "Real beasts with real postures and real personalities - as if they're standing here, right in front of us. All the robes must've been a pain to sculpt, and the eyes as well. You don't see good craftsmanship these days, especially here in Travrik."

The emperor pointed to the right. "Real indeed. Lord Lamont's smug smirk looks just as punchable as the real thing!" Clutching a shield in his right paw and a model of Gystra in his left, Lamont Streambattle was recognisable by the Steward's badge he wore on his chest and the serpent of Gystra atop his shield. "He looks like he's challenging every traveller here to do better than him. Classic Southswarder hubris that proves to be useless once the first obstacle comes."

The otter laughed at his own joke, and Egil followed suit, wisely neglecting to tell Kiordan that his own smirk wasn't so different. "Hard to believe Lamont is Kiormund's uncle, really."

"Kiormund…" the otter rubbed his chin, standing still and gazing across the bridge towards the city. Though the rain had stopped, the skies were still full of clouds, drifting south as the wind whipped up the sea. Ragged trails of smoke emerged from chimneys as beasts of all kinds started to prepare their evening meals. Below the river, barges started to unload their cargo down unto the riverside, hoping that they were not too late for the market.

"What of him?"

"He needs you, you see," said Kiordan. "I never did have a lot of friends when I was his age. Come to think about it, I needed one more then more than little Kio needs one now, but that's beside the point."

Egil could count the number of times the Emperor had looked fully serious on one paw, yet now he felt that he had to add one more to the list. "You need to be with him. He needs somebeast to bear his sorrows and share his joys, just as everybeast else does. He's always worried, yet you're never worried. You must watch over him just as he guards your back. Or is it the other way around?"

"I can do both, Your Majesty."

"Very well. Egil son of Skuli, I ask of you to do your duty as a friend, and to remind Kiormund to do his. Nothing more." Having so spoken, Kiordan turned away from the bridge and strode towards the left bank, but not before he shot the simpering stone otter a backwards glance. "Challenge accepted," he muttered under his breath.

The pair continued on their way towards the west side of Gystra. Egil paid the bridge and the other three otterlord statues no heed, merely turning back to check for the absence of Joseph the Bellmaker. The ferret thought of asking Kiordan why, but he remembered that Gystra was not Southswarder territory in the mouse's lifetime.

Kiordan paused, very nearly causing Egil to collide with him. The otter scanned the buildings around him, wondering which way he should navigate across the maze of streets and houses that made up the quarter.

"Maybe you should ask wherever you're headed to is at," said Egil. "If you don't know the way, that is."

"Good idea," replied Kiordan. "Maybe if there's another guard - aha!" The otter walked up to a nearby member of the City Watch, a grizzled mouse, labelled as such by the blue adder etched upon her uniform. "Excuse me, where would-" He was suddenly interrupted by the mouse's abrupt bow.

"Your Majesty, how might I serve you?"

"Er, um…" Judging by the stunned expression on Kiordan's face, Egil guessed he did not expect to be recognised. "How did you recognise me?"

"You were here! In Gystra! Nine seasons ago! My daughter wanted to see you, with your rich robes and your many attendants, so I asked Lord Lamont for a day off to be with Alisse." The mouseguard chuckled to herself. "She liked the procession, but we expected somebeast taller, to be honest."

"Everyone does," replied Kiordan, laughing with her. "I assume Lord Blerun told you that I was headed here, and since you've seen me, you put two and two together?"

"Of course, of course," said the mouse. "He's young and a tad bit impulsive, but he's no fool. A band of Imperial and Kaldosian retainers making their way towards Gystra would warrant at least a briefing from the City Watch's commander. So what do you want me to do?"

"I would like directions to the draper's guild. That will do, please."

"Oh, then turn right, then take the fourth left. Just around the amphitheatre. There should be a sign somewhere around there."

"Thank you very much, Miss…" the emperor scratched his head. "You never gave your name, by the way."

"It's Rohese."

"Well, Rohese, I wish you and your daughter good fortune in the seasons to come."

"I wish the same upon you and yours, Your Majesty."

The otter walked back up to Egil. "Come on, this way."

"Gystra has an amphitheatre?" asked Egil.

"It does! Back when it was still called Castrum Udsonis, when it was still Imperial territory. The Travrikans never got around to destroying it, and neither did the Southswarders. And so it shall stand until the end of time itself… or so I've heard."

"I never knew that," Egil remarked. "I probably should have done more research. What do they do there?"

"They don't do duels and battles there anymore, thank Seasons. Now they just perform plays there, or the odd tourney," said Kiordan, looking up towards the north, with Egil following suit.

Even from a distance Gystra Amphitheatre looked imposing, its double-levelled arches rising above the multitude of houses, grey above the sea of red below, as if it were some warlord commanding a horde. Rather fitting, since it was said that vermin built it.

The ferret pondered the irony that lay here. Kiordan may have been blue-blooded on both sides of his family, but if one were to look far enough into the past, his ancestors fought there while Egil's sat watching, basking in the epicaricacy of witnessing other beasts duel to the death. But the past was gone, as dead as the Foxwolf, and the South was for woodlanders to rule.

"Oh, here it is!" exclaimed Kiordan, snapping Egil out of his thoughts.

"The Guild?" asked Egil. I don't see a sign. And we aren't at the Amphitheatre yet!"

"Oh no, there's just a bakery here. You said you wanted something to eat, did you not?"

Quickly nodding, Egil made his way away from Kiordan and opened the wooden doors to the building. Red-coated like the other establishments, it was situated away from the residences of Gystra. Fires had spread before due to many a careless baker's mistake, and Lamont refused to take chances. Ordering the baker's guild to relocate to an isolated block just by the Udso was a good decision.

The ferret was greeted by a host of aromas and a rather annoyed squirrel. "What do you want, vermin?" barked the red-furred rodent.

"Have you got some of those flatbreads with nuts in them? The ones sold all across Travrik?"

"This is not Travrik, ferret." The baker's frown remained plastered on his muzzle. You would have better luck across the Udso."

Egil could feel his tail twitch as he scanned the room around him. Oat, barley and rye bread lined the area, and the fire in the oven crackled on and on. "Then what about those? Those with onions baked into them?"

The squirrel nodded, then proceeded to take a rather large slice of flatbread, weigh it, and asked for two dinari, which Egil was happy to part with. However, judging by the look on the baker's face, the ferret wondered to himself if something went wrong.

"This is Kaldosian," said the baker. "See this?"

"Oh?"

"It's the face of Erlend Streambattle - a traitor going against the realm. I'm afraid I could not accept this."

Egil groaned as he reached for more coins. What would he say if he realised Erlend was well-rested in the city right now, and breaking bread with your precious Steward's son? Your sour old muzzle's probably going to change shape. "What about this? It's a Helsker coin."

The squirrel's frown faded for a second as his brows squinted and he studied the coin. "Lord Holmger's face is on it. The hedgehog's dead, I've heard, and rumours say that Lord Erlend's going to choose one of his toadies for the title. Some say it's going to be his pup with the Emperor's daughter, while others say it's going to be one of those he sired with that Rainpeer tart. Maybe he's going to sell it to one of his many debtors, or some Imperial sod's going to swoop in and take it by force. Everybeast's saying something different."

"So… can I take the bread and leave?" asked Egil. The more he stayed here, the less comfortable he felt.

The squirrel nodded after a cold stare and a long silence, and Egil grabbed the loaf and ran back out, opening the door to see the usual situation of the Gystra streets. Beasts were scrambling towards the Amphitheatre for some sort of play performance, while others were simply caught up in escaping the crowd. Kiordan was nowhere to be seen.

Egil muttered a curse under his breath as he nibbled on his meal. The otter must have gone towards the Guild Hall first, trusting that Egil would join him there later. But with the ever-growing crowd in front of him, this might just take a while.

His musings were again interrupted by another beast's voice.

"Er, ferret?" asked another squirrel, and Egil resisted the temptation to groan loudly. Unlike the baker who managed to make a simple exchange of coin for bread a stressful affair, this brown-furred squirrel was young, barely an adult, and still struggling to hone his body and mind. Joakim of Aventoft may have been set to marry the heir to the Southswarder throne, but Egil doubted that Princess Jacoba would enjoy his company for long, if at all.

"My name is Egil, if it would please Your Lordship."

"Oh yes, Egil. I apologise for my forgetfulness." Joakim smiled nervously. "And my brother's rude remarks this morning were uncalled for."

Less than fond memories of the older Aventoft sibling threatening to dispose of his corpse and those of his family in a highly disrespectful manner popped into Egil's head. "I was not offended," he lied. "Not at all. Why are you here?"

"I was planning to find the Emperor to ask a personal question," answered the squirrel. "You always seem to stick to him like peas in a pod. I crossed the bridge, asked for directions from the guards and headed towards the amphitheatre. Then I happened to see the well-dressed black-and-white ferret that clings to His Majesty like a child does to a parent. Not every ferret could afford a houppelande, so I recognised you rather quickly."

Comfortable that the young squirrel was not intent on doing him harm, Egil relaxed and his lips curled into a smile. "We are close indeed. He's like a third grandfather to me. I'm heading to the Draper's Guild to find him. If you want to join up with me to find him, please do."

The lordly rodent nodded, Egil grabbed one of the squirrel's paws with his free one, and they cut through the crowd like a poleaxe through flesh. It was not easy, to say the least, as the crowd almost had a life of its own. Egil nearly lost his grip on the squirrel and the flatbread more than once each. But they pushed through, and within minutes they were at the doors of the guild hall. After a shrill knock on the door, the pair walked in.

"One of them costs ten grossi?" came the voice of the old Emperor.

"Precisely. Or forty dinari, if you only have those," replied the beast at the counter, a well-built shrewmaid. "But if you want around thirty, it would be much better for you to pay in soldi or fiorini. One soldo is three grossi, and-"

"I know how this works, thank you very much. Us Imperials invented the system! Fine, I'll pay in fiorini. But only five, and tomorrow. The other ten you will receive when I see all the banners myself when I return in a few weeks - no more than a month."

The shrew nodded, grabbed the few coins Kiordan fumbled out, then retreated into the bowels of the hall, no doubt to bark orders at her guildmates.

"Ah, I see you caught up, Egil," said Kiordan. "Did you bring the squirrel with you?"

The ferret shook his head as the squirrel curled his tail around his legs. "We just bumped into each other," said Egil. "He said he wanted to find you for something personal."

"Personal, hm?" chirped Kiordan. "How personal exactly, young Aventofter?"

"Well, it's just that I'm nervous about my future marriage," Joakim forced a nervous grin as Kiordan signalled Egil to depart the room with a look. "I can't shake the feeling that-" The rest of the sentence was cut off by Egil shutting the door behind him, sitting down on the stairs leading to the building and focusing on his now-cold bread. Somehow, it still managed to retain its flavour, with the sharp bite of onion gripping his jaw like his sister did that one time, but somehow even less endearing. Still, Egil was hungry, and it didn't take long for the ferret to wolf down the whole loaf.

A minute or two passed until Joakim the squirrel exited the hall, his perpetually befuddled expression amplified threefold at least. No doubt what Kiordan told him was not to his liking.

"Sorry for abandoning you." Kiordan soon followed the lordling out. "I thought you were taking your sweet time choosing between different pastries, so I decided to leave you to it. How was the bread?"

"Could've been better," replied Egil. "Maybe I should've taken a closer look. How was Joakim?"

"Typical squirrel," spat Kiordan. "Always thinks he could do everything and nothing at the same time. All he needs is to push himself in the right direction, to look at problems from alternate perspectives, and to stop pushing his own problems on other beasts. He didn't take the last bit well, so I left him to think about it. It's all that I can do, really."

"Could I ask another question?" said Egil, wiping his mouth with his paws.

"Yes."

"Why were you headed to the draper's in the first place? You could've gotten what you wanted back in Wossaham or Kaldos, with either cheaper prices or better quality. You didn't have to come here to commission banners, of all things!"

"Delivery costs."

"Hm? For what?"

"Gystra's on the crossroads between Southsward proper and Travrik, and Lamont will not object if dignitaries from every state meet in Gystra to keep the peace we currently enjoy. Erlend probably will, but he'll be persuaded."

"So the banners will just be there to ensure every emissary feels included."

"Correct." Kiordan plopped right down beside Egil, whiskers twitching. "Look at the world right now. Southswarders and Tarellers mobilising larger and larger forces. Lamont and Erlend Streambattle at each other's throats. My realm's struggling to keep itself together as its leader grows ever older." The emperor sighed. "That's why as my last act I'm calling all beasts from all realms here, in the city shared amongst former rivals, with the stone bridge across the Udso that breached borders natural and artificial. The foundations of peace shall be laid here in Gystra, where flags and banners of all nations shall fly high, and for once all beasts shall have the luxury of peaceful thought instead of plunging into mindless action."