Chapter 17
Steps into Floret
The rebellious face disputes with the soul,
Honey flows forth out of the mouth, the mind is full of bile;
Not everything is of honey that resembles honey,
The face of the heart is different from that of the skin.
-translated lyrics of Vitium in Opere by Corvus Corax
Egil walked slowly, taking care not to slip on the sleet that covered the roads.
It was currently noon, and the sun was at its highest, but the snows of the last trio of days had yet to fully melt. Every now and then the carts that housed the travelling supplies would get stuck in the mud, requiring more and more beasts to haul them out. The ferret even saw Blerun Streambattle get his paws dirty himself, pushing a sludge-stained wheel free from the mire it was trapped in.
"Getting tired already?" asked Arni, who had not left Egil's side since they left Kyrrabeck together four days ago. He was still talking to Blerun - mostly about their different experiences on campaigns, and Egil ignored Erlend's potential complaints by being wherever the otterlord was not.
"A little," replied Egil, nodding. His clothes only seemed to get dirtier every time he washed it, and he was wondering if his boots (and the footpaws they protected) were starting to tear themselves apart, but it was all worth it.
After all, it wasn't every day that one got to see Floret.
The young ferret's father had told him that if Kalopolis was the dawn, then Floret was dusk. Located at the far northwest of the known world (according to Southerners at least), it had a reputation that eclipsed every other city on this side of the sea, despite what the Tarelians had to say about that. Despite not having direct access to the Ring Sea it was still a great trading hub due to its estuarial location, and all sorts of goods entered and exited its markets. From farmers and fisherbeasts to smiths and soldiers, all sorts of beasts were to be found in such a crowded place.
Arni chuckled. "You're more durable than you look."
"All thanks to you," replied Egil. "You've always taken me everywhere you go."
"Except when your ottery friend drags you someplace new. Or were you doing the dragging?" The older ferret readjusted his pack as he spoke. "Time and time again you have proved that out of us two it is you, and not I, who has this restless urge for adventure, to Father's eternal pleasure and Mother's perpetual disapproval."
"I didn't think she minded my antics that much."
"She always wanted you to be a scholar who buries his snout in books and scrolls, a beast who knows his Laskarine well. When she left you promised her-"
"And I'm going to do that!" said Egil. "It's just that we have different paths leading to the same place."
"And cosying up to snobles would help you do that?"
Egil's whiskers tensed. "That's certainly a strange thing to come out of your mouth, especially considering your association with His Pretentiousness."
"As you might recall I was avoiding Lord Erlend-"
"But not his nephew," spat Egil. "What do you see in him?"
Arni grumbled as he trodded over to his brother's side. "An opportunity."
"What has he offered you? Tell me more."
"For a price later determined, I am to take a beast up north. Past the deserts, across the forests, until we are safe and sound at Redwall Abbey."
"So you two will be going alone?"
"That's unlikely," replied Egil's brother. "The younger Lord Streambattle doesn't think I can handle the trip alone - or my charge, for that matter. He, or his father, is sending somebeast here to help me."
"You've been to Redwall before!" remarked the ferret. "With the Southswarders three seasons ago, right?"
"No, I was stationed to guard the road between the Abbey and Salaminonion, or however the local hares pronounced it." Arni chuckled. "The Redwallers weren't going to trust a vermin not wearing one of those fancy blue uniforms, and being cut down by my allies unknowingly will blemish my record something fierce, wouldn't it?"
Egil shook his head before he turned back to his brother. "Then it's going to be a wonderful eye-opener."
"And a stomach-enlarger, if the Long Patrol is to be believed." The older ferret rubbed his brother's head. "I'm more than halfway through my third decade, so Father can't tell me where to go or, in this case, where not to go. When you get back to Gystra or Kaldos or wherever he is, send him my regards, would you?"
"Yes, I'll do that."
When the party sat down for lunch, Egil decided there was no point in avoiding Erlend Streambattle anymore. However, he was less than amused at Egil's insistence that the otterlord's father-in-law join the conversation in front of a kettle of stew and a warm fire, surrounded by a ring of dried-up bushes. The air was crisp and cold after the recent series of snowfalls, but in the midday sun very little of that remained, at least where they were now. The Southswarders had chosen their location of rest well.
"First he takes my son here, then he sends him right off back to Redwall?"
"Calm your rudder, pup," interjected Kiordan. "Little Kio is still safe, and it baffles me as much as it baffles you."
Erlend raised his paws in exasperation. "There are beasts who want everybeast connected to me dead, and half of them live in that accursed castle, floors or rooms away from the boy."
"Your Grace would do well with a reminder. Those beasts want you dead more than they want him dead, and they want you humbled before anything else. He serves their purpose in one piece far better than he does in many."
"Then what do you expect me to do? Kneel before King Sleepysquirrel, destroy my line of fortifications, and maybe not have my throat cut? Even the thought is making me dizzy."
"That is what I would do if I were in your station," replied the emperor, "even though my knees aren't as good as they used to be. A display of loyalty is just that, a display. Just give them a castle or two, the isolated ones. For appearances' sake."
"I do not have room for error."
"Nobeast does in these strange waters, pup." Kiordan shrugged. "And yet everybeast manages to make some room for themselves."
The younger otter moved forward, shifting closer to the fire before he turned to Egil. "You. Ferret. Did you hear anything more from Lord Blerun?"
Egil set his bowl down. "No, Your Grace. I just heard about it from my brother."
"Ah. I do not think I will bother him about all these things. 'Tis better to wait and see."
Kiordan chuckled. "By 'wait' you mean 'do nothing for the next two hours until you finally meet your dearest brother again', I assume."
The younger otter grunted but said nothing.
Finding Blerun Streambattle through the party was not hard, even for a short ferret like Egil. "Could we have a word, Your Lordship?"
"Go on."
"I'd like to inquire about your family history."
"I am not the beast to ask about the matter," spat the otter, not even looking at the ferret. "My uncle and father love to ramble on and on about this or that king or steward, but studying has never been my strong suit."
Egil walked quicker. "I was referring to their rivalry. Brothers do not fight each other without cause, and I've heard Lord Erlend's side of the story from his son seasons ago - multiple times, I must say."
"Very well, ferret." Blerun rubbed his paws and shook his head. "It all began when Lord Erlend was born, months after his father's death. Travrikan law mandates for partible inheritance, so he received Kaldos from Lord Steffen while Lamont inherited Gystra. My father was raised by his uncle while my grandmother doted on Erlend, so they never properly met each other. And when the last Steward died Lamont got everything from him."
"Southswarder law doesn't have to divide property?"
"Only if the will explicitly mandates so, which is not true in this case. Lord Erlend kept asking for all the Travrikan territories that once belonged to Lord Steffen, but my father did not see any reason to acquiesce. Southswarder law applies wherever the king wills it, and my impulsive uncle did not see the point in appealing that decision like any lord who carries himself with a single scrap of dignity."
"What happened?"
"He raised a band of followers and tried to declare himself the one and only high lord in all Travrik. It was an audacious move for a scrawny otter who was just as old as your friend Kio is now, but it did not go well. No blood was shed, but both brothers knew that this might not always be the case."
"And then?"
"You tried using one of Erlend's coins in Gystra, did you?" asked Blerun, earning a brisk nod from the ferret. "I knew it was either you or your brother. Some baker demanded you pay him some massive fine for even suggesting you pay him with this, but I brushed him aside. Give it to me - just for a look."
"Yes, my lord." Egil paused for a few moments as he scrambled out a grosso from his purse. "All the towns and cities across the Glorr wouldn't take it. Gystra, Varelwood, Kyrrabeck… does your uncle have the right to mint these?"
The otter took the coin in his paws, and swiftly read the inscription on it, before flipping it and repeating the process. "A very rudimentary portrait on one side, and a rampant wolf on the other. Arlandus Dominus Caldensiae, Erlend Herre av Kaldos."
Egil nodded. "Lord Erlend of Kaldos."
"Correct. My uncle has the right to mint whatever coinage he so chooses… but he puts the name of neither king nor emperor on them. And have you noticed something else? Does it not feel right in your paw?"
The ferret shrugged. "Not really."
"A more observant beast would realise that it's lighter," snapped Blerun. "It's debased. Fortresses do not pay for themselves, after all, and Erlend's always short on money. I am sure your father knows this more than we do. After all, if he did not you would not be bothering me on the road to Floret."
Egil's whiskers wilted. "I'm sorry about that."
Blerun rolled his eyes. "Thankfully for the both of us we are very close to our destination. Run back to your brother, learn from the past and do not start killing each other."
Egil nodded, but before he could leave Blerun threw the coin back to him.
"You may have that back. No self-respecting Southswarder has any use for that thing."
When Egil laid eyes on the walls of Floret he finally knew why the city had not fallen by assault even once in all the seasons since it was founded. The ferret thought they were taller than five of him stacked on top of each other, and he could already imagine the dread coursing through a vermin hordebeast or a Tarelian conscript as their commander ordered them to grab their ladders. The white walls were already high enough, but the moat in front of the structure and the even taller towers jutting out, each crewed by several dozens of archers, would make any marauding force think twice before settling down for a siege.
The portcullis to the southeastern gate was opened, and a group of blue-clad beasts appeared. "Our escorts," said Egil to his brother, who was standing next to him as usual.
"Looks like it," Arni replied, squinting. "Blue uniforms. And that massive bell standard."
"How many of them are there?"
"Looks like five or six dozen. That makes sense - they need to outnumber us so that we don't cause any trouble, but not by too much to avoid being seen as a trapping force."
Blerun Streambattle walked forward with two of his subordinates, and they exchanged a few words before the tall otter turned back.
"All of you may enter the city," he explained, "but let it be known that you will be watched at every turn." He turned to his frowning uncle. "Especially you."
Erlend nodded. "Duly noted."
"Good. Let us make a bit of haste forward. My father has words for you, and it's not proper to keep him waiting. You know how particular he can get."
The older otter grumbled and nodded as his nephew faced the two ferrets.
"And you two. Watch yourselves, will you?"
Arni nodded, with Egil following quite quickly.
"Just one last thing…" muttered Blerun as he made his way towards Kiordan and muttered something in his ear.
"So, we're here," said Arni. "Floret. The world's edge."
"And Kiormund."
"And your friend, yes. I've always liked him."
Egil crossed his arms "No you didn't."
"Well, not at first. I must say your tastes in friends are somewhat inconsistent… but it could just be that you've been busy since Kiormund departed towards Redwall three seasons ago."
"I'll ask him what happened up there. New sights to see, new beasts to meet, new foods to taste - that might turn him into a different beast!"
"Or maybe a sphere," said Arni, entirely unprepared for the smack that came towards his muzzle a moment later.
Egil decided that his father was indeed correct in his assessment in Floret. The city was truly massive, and there were just too many things to see. There were markets which sold typical winter produce like purple carrots and oranges that were as large as Egil's snout, as well as bridges that made Lamont's Gystran one look like a child's shoddy attempt at emulating their parents' talents. The sublime Castle Floret perched on the outcrop in the middle of the city, watching the beasts under its protection with its fatherly gaze.
Finally there was, of course, the Belltower in the distance, a beacon that led the party ever closer. Egil spotted Blerun speaking with one of the other soldiers, a slim but sinewy marteness, while almost all the others kept a tight eye on Erlend.
Halfway towards their destination the bells rang, and Egil's mouth hung open. Belltowers were not common back in the warmer lands Egil had spent most of his teenage life in, nor his childhood home of Travrik. The ferret had wondered what the sound of bells was like, and he was not disappointed by the melody. The five bells all had names, Egil knew, but he did not remember them. What mattered was their song and the stories the music told as well as those it inspired, and by hearing the repeated pealing, Egil knew they were numerous.
Eventually the party was free from the residential districts and the assortment of beasts looking from their windows, and they found themselves in a square directly below the Belltower. From the corner of his eye he saw a collection of beasts, most of them standing in a row.
There was King Willem of Southsward, trying to keep himself awake in his open litter, and his granddaughter, who was in a small blue gown. There was Lord Lamont, Lady Anezka and their two other pups in their feather-decorated baretts, and then there was Kiormund. The otter looked just that bit plumper after three seasons - Redwall Abbey seemed to have treated him kindly. The otter's green eyes looked dull in the distance, and his paws fidgeted nervously - the ferret recalled that he was never fond of social gatherings. He looked a bit lost standing next to so many of his relatives, but once he saw Egil and his grandfather he enthusiastically grinned.
"Welcome to Floret, Your Radiance," said Princess Jacoba, dashing forward and curtsying in front of Kiordan, who promptly bowed in return. A nudge from the emperor persuaded Erlend to follow his lead. "I hope you will enjoy your stay here."
The aged otter nodded. "I assure you I shall."
"And Erlend Streambattle of Kaldos!" squeaked the adolescent squirrelmaid. "I have not seen your face since… eight seasons ago. I was but a little kit, while you looked much taller back then. And fatter, I must say."
"Your honesty is appreciated," replied Erlend. "It is hard to come by in times and places like this." He shot Lamont a glare that Egil was sure he caught.
"All of you must be tired and hungry," said Anezka Highwind, stepping out from between both her sons. "We have prepared rooms for you in the castle, and we have made sure we shall serve you the best food the realm has to offer."
Erlend nodded briskly. "That is very generous of you, dearest sister. Shall we depart for our lodgings now, or have you decided to keep us around for a few more hours?"
Anezka nodded. "We should go then."
Kiordan darted forward to speak with the still unresponsive squirrelking, Lamont's silence was broken once he was able to grab a hold of his son, and Kiormund stopped his random muttering as he approached Egil. The two friends quickly grabbed each other in a tight embrace.
"So, Kio, have you been well?" asked the ferret.
"It has been a tidbit complicated," replied the young lord, "but seeing you again after all these seasons makes everything alright again."
C/N: It's always good to see a friend again after so long. Oh wait, you haven't been introduced to me just yet - this is my first set of character notes.
I see you readers are paying genuine attention to my chapters. I can't say I'm used to my newfound fame, but I have a feeling it'll grow on me.
Floret is a city I cannot wait to see more of, but that would wait until the next chapter, where I'm passing the torch to Kiormund! I'm sure he knows what to do with this much pagetime, as well as how to write a proper character's note. Seasons, I need some practice.
My author told me to advertise something about reviewing just below these few lines, but I'll not waste more of your time. Have a good day, everybeast!
