Valkyrie Profile:
Lenneth Novelization AU:
Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.
Chapter Seven:
Midgardian Interludes
"Oh, we've arrived?"
When the carriage carrying the noble family slowed down ahead of them, Celia and Kashell pulled the reins of their horses tighter to do the same. The driver then steered the horse team up to the gate of a moderately sized stone manor near the edge of the business district.
During their approach, Celia had almost taken it for a place of business instead of an abode. It was just off the side of the main cobblestone road with the rest of the buildings and there was very little setting it apart from the other buildings around. Like the rest, it was a two-story tanned stone building, possessing little embellishment. A low iron fence surrounded it and its gate was strictly functional, lacking the usual decorations like having a family seal on each swinging door. There were no armed guards patrolling its exterior, and there were certainly no guard dogs. Just a two-story L-shaped building with a red shingled gable and valley roof. A normal sized single wooden door served as its entrance at the top of a short flight of stone steps.
Celia and Kashell thought it oddly humble in size and appearance for the nobleman's house, especially for a thriving merchant town like Lassen.
"Huh. This is it?" Kashell sounded slightly underwhelmed.
Celia shrugged uncertainly in response.
"The nobles back home would probably rather die than live in a place like this," Kashell whispered playfully to his partner.
Celia just raised a finger to her lip and gestured ahead to the carriage their clients rode in. Kashell shrugged but went obediently went silent.
"Be nice," she told him quietly but sternly. "This man's wife just passed away."
"I know, I know," Kashell took the scolding in stride.
Right before the driver reined the horse team to a complete stop, the mansion's front door opened and out stepped the master of the house. He was a tall, thin man in black with shoulder-length brown hair and a thin mustache. He wore black trousers, a white cotton button down shirt with billowy long sleeves, and a black vest fastened shut with golden toggle buttons. Although he was nearly 40, his hair had not yet begun to gray and no wrinkle blemished his face.
"Lord Belenus, for sure," Celia thought.
He was followed by his maid, a woman about thirty with black hair tied up in a bun who followed him out. Then, much to the surprise of both the mercenaries, Belenus turned and closed the door for her. The noble and his maid walked out onto the cobblestone street to welcome their guests.
As soon as the horses were stopped, the driver hopped down and opened the carriage door for his passengers. One by one, they exited out, stepping out onto the stone street. First was a middle-aged woman with graying dark hair. Her outer skirt, bodice, and high-collared cape were all black. Her purse was hung over one shoulder by its long strap. The driver helped her out of the carriage.
"Thank you, Mark," the woman said.
Mark bowed and continued to hold the door for the remaining family members. Then the woman's husband. He was a pale ginger with no mustache, but a thick beard. He was a heavyset fellow who made the carriage lurch to one side to the next as he climbed out. It bounced back into position when he stepped onto the ground. Like the others, he was dressed in all black to mark the occasion. Bringing up the rear were their sons, ages 8 and 10, both brown haired like their mother and dressed in black tunics and trousers.
With the 'click' of the lock, Belenus and his maid pulled the gate open for their guests and gave them a bow in greeting.
"Lord Geoffrey," Belenus hailed.
"Lord Belenus," Geoffrey said in return. "It's so good to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances."
"The feeling is mutual," Belenus's words were weight by sadness. He visibly tried to buck up, managing a decent smile. "All the same, I am happy to see you all again."
He then looked to Geoffrey's wife and children, who also exchanged a bow with him.
"Lady Lobelia," Belenus said with more exuberance.
"Dear Cousin," Lobelia answered.
"Uncle Belenus," the boys chimed in.
"Daniel, Alexander, my how you two are growing! You'll be in the knighthood by the time I next blink at this rate," Belenus chuckled.
"Hope so. It's boring with school out right now," Daniel, the older boy, replied.
"Daniel," Lobelia scolded.
"Well, it is," Daniel protested.
"Daniel," she repeated, sternly.
"Yes, Mama," Daniel straightened out.
Turning away from her son, Lobelia sighed and shook her head. Belenus visible suppressed a grin, and turned away before his cousin could give him a stern look as well. The maid caught Lobelia's eye and she smiled again.
"And good afternoon to you as well, Asaka," Lobelia said pleasantly.
"Welcome to Lassen, Lady Lobelia," Asaka curtsied low. "If you need anything, you have only to ask."
"Thank you, dearie," Lobelia replied.
Then Lobelia then gave Belenus a sympathetic look.
"When we got your letter about Abigail's passing, we couldn't believe it," she said. "She was still so young and lively."
"Yes, her sickness was sudden, and…" Belenus stopped, uncertain of how to proceed. "It was strange. The doctors could not figure out what was wrong with her."
"That's the woman's disposition for you," Geoffrey said. "Such delicate things. You never know what's going to be the end of them."
On their horses, Celia clenched the reins of her horse huffily while Kashell intentionally looked away from the noble family to roll his eyes. He caught Celia's cross look and leaned closer to her. At least as much as the horse's saddle would allow him to whisper to her.
"I think that one needs to meet Aelia."
The insulted look left Celia's face as she smiled in amusement. She turned away, biting her lip while trying to keep a giggle trapped down in her throat. Pleased that he had lightened her mood, Kashell looked at the conversing family again. He noticed the maid, Asaka.
"Someone's a ways from home. Look," he said.
Celia followed his gaze to the girl. For the first time, she noticed the young woman was not like them. No, she was from Yamato, a little Asian-like island in the Southwest Sea just off the coast. She was a pretty, proper woman with delicate features and an underlying sorrow in her eyes.
"Why, she's from Yamato," Celia commented softly.
"Yeah," Kashell uttered moodily.
It wasn't common for the southern island folk to come up to the main continent, and the fact she was there in Lassen left Kashell with a pretty good idea how she'd taken up residence in that city.
"I do hope your trip uneventful," Belenus said.
"Oh, it was!" Geoffrey replied jovially.
He gestured over to Celia and Kashell.
"So uneventful, I began questioning my wife's hiring of these two," he said with a chortle.
That earned him an elbow to the ribs from Lobelia. An "Oof" was knocked out of him, and he glanced at her in annoyance just to be met with Lobelia's own displeased stare. He gulped under his wife' stern eye and turned to the mercenaries quickly.
"Apologies," he called over to them.
Lobelia glanced over at the two mercenaries with genuine sorry. While Celia seemed unaffected, Kashell's head was lowered to try masking his irritation.
"Ah… Geoffrey, Lobelia, forgive me," Belenus spoke up quickly. "I have been a terrible host, not welcoming you inside sooner. Please, please, do come in. Asaka, won't you be a dear and help their driver carry their things in?"
"Yes, Master Belenus," the maid bowed and moved to get to work.
"Oh, pishposh," Geoffrey smiled. "It takes much more than a minor lapse in manners for us to think less of you. However, I will admit, sitting down on a nice comfy sofa sounds splendid. Come along, boys. Will you be coming, too my dear?"
"In a moment, darling," Lobelia answered. "I have to give our escorts their first payment."
"Oh, yes, well, don't be long. Daniel, Alexander, come."
"Yes, father," Daniel complied.
"But I've been inside a carriage all day," Alexander whined.
"Father says come along," Daniel responded.
When Alexander failed to move, his older brother grabbed him under the upper arm and pulled the pouting boy along. As the boys followed their father inside, Lobelia and Belenus approached the two mercenaries. Celia and Kashell both politely bowed their heads in respect as the two nobles approached.
"Lady Lobelia, Lord Belenus," Celia hailed graciously.
When they looked back up, the two mercs were both surprised to see Lobelia and Belenus looking at them at them apologetically.
"I am so sorry for my husband. That was a beastly thing of him to say," Lobelia said. "I at least know our trip was uneventful because of you both."
"We don't mind. Of course, it was just in jest," Celia assured her.
Kashell, for his part, bit his lip, deciding to let his partner talk to the rich people.
"Mark," Lobelia called to the driver. "If you would please fetch our bodyguards' oth."
"Immediately, Lady Lobelia," Mark answered.
Belenus strolled up to the warriors while they waited for their money. The way he looked at them implied he could tell Geoffrey's words had cut them deeper than they let on.
"You both also have my thanks, as well," he said. "Thank you for protecting my cousin's family on the road. I know how dangerous it is to travel between Artolia and Lassen. Do not be discouraged by Lord Geoffrey. It's his way."
"Your Lordship is very kind," Celia answered. "Thank you."
Belenus nodded in acknowledge, and then stepped aside as Lobelia and the driver approached. Mark bore a small rectangular box as he stepped between the horses. He opened the lid, presenting two bags of money for the hired swords. He held the box up to Kashell first.
"Thanks," Kashell said.
"Thank you, Mark," Celia echoed as she accepted hers'.
Mark closed the lip, bowed, and backed away.
"Will you be able to find The All-Welcome Inn?" Mark asked.
"Absolutely. Six blocks west, on the corner of 3rd Avenue and Bywater Street," Celia answered.
"Good," Mark answered. "Just remember to tell the Innkeeper that you are Lady Lobelia of Vandermoor's guests. She's paid for the reservation. Your rooms should be ready."
"We will. And thank you again for being such an accommodating client, Lady Lobelia," Celia said.
With that, the two turned their horses and left, heading toward their quarters for the duration of the stay. Kashell shouldn't stop himself from glancing over his shoulder back toward the manor one more time. He saw Lord Geoffrey filling the entire front door by himself as he met his wife entering the house. He shook his head and glanced toward his partner.
"How did a classy lady like that end up with a fat old oaf like him, anyway?" Kashell asked.
"Arranged marriages," Celia answered drearily. "They almost always end up putting someone who deserves better with someone who doesn't deserve them."
Kashell made a sound with his throat that could have been a single derisive laugh. He said no more, contented to look at the river running through town on their left. Its natural beauty was more pleasing to his eyes than the uniform tanned brick buildings with hints of moss growing on them.
"Tomorrow morning, we should stock up on supplies for the return journey," Kashell said.
He chuckled then.
"I should have asked Lord Belenus we might find a good deal on jerked meat, at least," he added.
"Well," Celia mumbled.
She glanced around as they passed under an arch into another area of Lassen.
"This is the marketplace. It won't be that hard to find something affordable," Celia commented. "We have time, anyway, since the family's not going to be leaving for a few days. Supply stores for travels might even… be…"
She trailed off as they entered into an open square in the city that had been set aside to accommodate for one of its biggest local businesses: the slave market. She grimaced spotting several wealthy, or at least well-to-do, buyers seated on rows of benches in front of a large raised wooden platform, serving as a stage to show off the 'merchandise'.
There was a large cast iron cage on the back of the platform filled with people, mostly women and children, who had been reduced to things owned. Most of them were from Yamato, just like Asaka. Except, unlike her, they were still garbed in the unique attire of their home. The ones who didn't look like they'd just been broken long ago were shaking with fear.
Men in long black jackets and shaded spectacles were currently showing off a young woman wearing only tatters. Her hands were bound behind her back and she was held in place by a collar attached the end of a pole, which a large man held in an iron grip.
Celia had to look away, looking near grief-stricken at the sight. Kashell silently glared in righteous fury as they passed.
"Disgusting practice," Celia's murmured with upmost contempt.
Kashell tore his eyes away from the sight as they started to leave the square, all too happy to put the scene of decadence and misery behind him.
"Hey, you two. Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time," someone called out to them.
"Wonderful," Kashell sarcastically thought.
Both mercs stopped their horses as one of the men in black approached. His eye seemed to be on Celia the whole time, making Kashell's blood boil. His head subtly lowered down to her feet and back up to her face as though he were sizing her up. It was all Kashell could do not to behead the man on the spot.
"You look like blades for hire," the man said. "Or are you the adventuring sort?"
"Mercenaries," Celia replied. "How may we help you?"
"Excellent," the man said as he adjusted his shaded glasses. "Would I be able to interest either of you in a job?"
A subtle scowl came over Kashell's features. He knew where this was going and didn't like it one bit.
"It's easy work for good pay," the man in black pitched. "We just need someone to guard the wagons for a business trip down to Gerabellum."
Kashell again decided to let Celia do the talking.
"Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid we will have to decline," Celia replied politely. "We are both currently in the middle of another job."
The man in black raised a brow.
"Whatever you're being paid, I guarantee it's not as good as what you'll be making escorting our wares," the man told them.
Celia eye twitched when the man referred to his fellow humans as 'wares', but otherwise, her façade remained in place. Kashell sighed and regarded the black coat for a moment. He knew he lacked Celia's discretion and probably wasn't hiding his contempt for the man and his business as well as she was.
"What's the job paying?" he finally asked.
"600 oth a piece," the shade-wearing one answered.
"That's a very a good offer. Generously so," Celia said. "But I'm afraid we still must decline. We're currently employed under a contract that was signed by the both of us, and our current client. We couldn't cancel our participation to accept your offer even if we wanted to."
"And we don't," Kashell added.
The black coat turned sharply to Kashell, who just stared back at him, eyes hard as stone.
"If you say no to us, you're not likely to work in this town," the man threatened.
"Then I guess it's a good thing we're Artolian," Kashell retorted.
The man backed up a step before turning away. The duo snapped the reins and their horses bore them away at walking speed. As soon as they were out of sight, Celia spoke.
"You shouldn't antagonize them like that," she scolded.
"You're sticking up for that scumbucket?" Kashell balked right back.
"No, but they're the slave trade. They don't exactly care who they step on once they've been crossed," Celia said. "I'd like to avoid making an enemy that has eyes and people everywhere in town."
"Did you even see how he was eyeing you up when he first approached?" Kashell demanded. "That guy was planning on double crossing us and selling you, I guarantee it."
"Of course, I noticed," Celia answered. "I just prefer turning down bad jobs in a way that doesn't make enemies."
"All the same, I'd sleep with the door bolted tonight," Kashell said.
Celia nodded, finding no argument there.
"Easy, boy."
Despite Aelia's soothing assurance and light patting she gave him along the side of his neck, Brego remained uneasy. Aelia slid her gloved hand up his neck and scratched him along his mane, softly cooing to him to keep him calm. All the while, she had partial focus on the structure they were passing. The Gorhla Cult headquarters.
Brego continued to shake. His skin was visibly rippling as he moved. He stamped at the ground restlessly, ready to bolt in an instant. Aelia had a tight hold of the reins to keep him under control. He snorted unhappily and even softly whinnied at one point.
"Geez, he wasn't even this scared when he were passing by the Trelleborg place," Aelia thought.
She glanced at the large chapel. Its square, Georgian architecture made it seem like a pale, almost white, brick in the distance with a black gambrel roof. A single bell tower stuck out from the center of the roof, looming almost ominously instead of welcomingly.
Brego tugged at the reins as he tried to quicken pace beyond a speed Aelia was comfortable with again.
"Whoa, boy, let's keep it steady," she said.
In truth, it wasn't just the distant chapel. There was something heavy in the air, and Aelia realized she hadn't heard any birds or insects for a few minutes now.
"Guess that confirms the rumors," Aelia mused. "I don't know what the Gorhla cult is up to, but it's spooking Brego something terrible. I better not stop yet. Let's put some distance between us and here first."
She eventually let Brego speed up a bit, but not as much as he'd have liked.
As the chapel slowly vanished into the distance, Aelia began to breathe easier.
"Woo," she let out a big breath.
She laughed nervously but was at last able to shake off the feeling of unease.
"At least I'm making good time," she said.
It'd been a week since she left Artolia to find Grey.
"In just a few days I'll finally arrive in Coriander Village. Hopefully Grey hasn't gone too far ahead to… wherever he's going," Aelia muttered. Her eyes narrowed "I won't let myself lose your trail again."
She had to laugh at the situation.
"I'm deep in Villnore territory, and a spooky building has me more concerned than King Kraad's patrols," amusement hung in her voice.
In a few minutes, they were traveling under the shade of the trees along a well-worn road the locals used. Or had. It was partially overgrown.
"If I had to guess… I'd say folk haven't been using this trail for a few weeks now," Aelia thought.
She glanced over her shoulder at the lone building out in the middle of the wilderness again. She didn't know if she was being cautious, or if it was mere paranoia, but the unsettled feeling in her stomach would not go away.
"These twelve will be sufficient?"
"Yes. These young… specimens will make for ideal new hive members. Oh, their blood is still so pure. It's almost intoxicating just smelling it pumping through their veins."
"Then we have an accord, Count?"
Orlok's eyes remained transfixed on the young women in the cell before him. They cowered against the back wall, trembling before the Vampire Lord, separated only by silver-laced iron bars to keep him out. His fangs reflected off the torchlight, bared by a wide, hungry smile. One of the younger girls began uncontrollably sobbing, burying her face in her arms.
"Count?" Orlok's accomplice repeated.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes," this time, Orlok tore himself away from the cell.
He faced the elderly man speaking to him.
"Archmage Gandar, you have a deal," Orlok told him.
Gandar grinned and ran his fingers through his white horseshoe mustache once. His narrow, wrinkled aged face with sagging cheeks and receding hairline were all reminders of the fate Orlok had become a vampire to avoid. The old man's remaining hair was somewhat unkempt and stuck up in a few places. Gandar was an oddly well-armored wizard, wearing faded red scaled and plate armor.
"Then again, he ix a high-ranking officer in Villnore's military," Orlok thought.
"By what time would you like the deed done?" the fair-looking vampire asked.
"I want it done as soon as you can find a suitable Hive Chief to begin an undead hoard in Artolia's capital," the elderly mage answered.
"Why the rush?" Orlok asked.
"We've lost contact with our spy in the king's court, and a certain… package, he was supposed to send us never arrived," Gandar replied. "I must assume the worst has happened. If Lombart's plan has failed, His Majesty is still going to want Artolia weakened and in the palm of our hand. Neither he nor I will accept failure, so I propose this alternative."
Orlok contemplated what he'd been told before speaking.
"Far be it for me to argue against forming a hive in a populated region," Orlok replied with an air of suspicion. "But I doubt your king will be pleased with adding a vampire infested kingdom to his territory. What's your game, wizard?"
In response, Gandar's eyes lit up hungry eagerness which surprised even Orlok. It nearly reflected Orlok's own for the blood of the virginal women in the cell.
"My game?" Gandar scoffed.
He took a long puff of the tobacco in his pipe and then released a smoke ring.
"My game is that I've spent my entire military career trying to crush Artolia entirely," Gandar replied. "Villnore's hold over the Western lands must be absolute. I will remove all obstacles standing in the way. Alas, Artolia, Lassen, and Gerabellum in the southwest have been troublingly stubborn. Not even colluding with Prince Langley during Artolia's Civil War all those years ago got us Artolia."
"So, this is not about seizing Artolia, per se?" Orlok grinned in understanding. "But about removing a rival from the board."
Gandar nodded.
"The sooner, the better."
Orlok smiled again, making the prisoners listening to this conversation quiver at his fangs being bared again.
"Oh, I agree with that. The sooner, the better," the Count whispered.
With that, Orlok and Gandar's grasped each other's forearms, sealing the covenant. Artolia would fall, and Orlok's Undead ranks would swell in preparation to take down Odin's little death chooser. Now, all he needed a suitably strong human to convert into the hive chief.
"You may have your pick of six women from this dozen as an upfront offering," Gandar said.
He snapped his fingers, and the cell swung open, making the women inside softly cry out in terror. Orlok gave him a delighted half-grin in response.
"You are too generous, Archmage," he said.
He moved over to the entrance, leering in at the huddled women.
"Ladies, shall we?" he said with an air of false courtesy.
He crossed into the cell, walking with an intentionally slowness, enjoying every moment of the terror he saw in their eyes. They pressed themselves against the back wall even more as his shadow fell over him, as though the darkness itself were about to swallow them up.
"Officer 1st Class Lawfer, you are called to the stand. Give us your full report of the investigation's findings."
"Yes, Captain."
Lawfer got up from his chair in the gallery and stepped out into the aisle. He began to approach the railed off area at the front of the courtroom. He eyed his father standing before the king, knowing he was about to take that stage alongside him in a moment. King Joshua sat in the judge's seat. The monarch was leaned forward slightly, hands folded in front of him with fingers interlocked.
Joshua looked on the young knight coldly, remembering how he'd given up the additional reward to his daughter's murderer. The king just about sneered at Lawfer as he approached. This pup thought to clear the name of one of Lombart's accomplices. Ridiculous. The king of Artolia would have his revenge for Jelanda. He'd enjoy watching the traitor's head roll and all who defended him in anguish.
The king then glanced over at the accused, seated on a bench off to his right. It was none other than Roland, Arngrim's younger brother. He was surrounded by knights to keep him in place. The young man's head was lowered, and his brown hair fell over his face.
On the other side, opposite of Roland was a pair of tables, one of which had stacks of papers, leatherbound texts, and even alchemic equipment. All were findings and conclusions from the case. They were attended by a man and a woman in robes, who'd organized and brought it all for the trial. There was a diagram unrolled across the table for the court to look at. On it were floorplans for Lombart's office and bed chamber, along with every secret the deceased traitor had installed since he took up ownership of them.
"How did it come to this?" Lawfer asked himself for the hundredth time since it'd all happened.
As Lawfer stepped through the swinging doors into the railed off area, he paused as he passed the accused.
"Roland," Lawfer softly called.
Roland slowly looked up the mutual friend of his and Arngrim's.
"Lawfer," he answered back, trying not to sound dejected.
A nod passed between the two men before Lawfer moved to stand beside his father before the king. Roland was the picture of misery. His crutch had been taken confiscated and was being held by one of the knights. He watched Lawfer walk past. Even though his back was turned, Lawfer could not get the fear in Roland's eyes out of his head. Arngrim's frail brother had spent the last week in the castle dungeon while the investigation was conducted. Lawfer stood, and bent the knee before his king. He had a fleeting moment to arrange his testimony properly. While his head was lowered, Lawfer was unable to contain a frown. Treason, conspiracy, and accessory to murder were the charges. Preposterous!
"How did it come to this?" he asked himself again.
On the day it happened, Lawfer and the men were returning from their patrols of the southern border one minute. In the next, they were given orders to join the hunt for the missing Princess. Without hesitation, they complied despite their own exhaustion. It had only taken asking around Castletown for a bit before they got answers. Quite a few people had seen the princess out and about in a bad disguise.
All trails led to Arngrim's house and a restaurant owner who was still irate about the wasted food and the scene she'd made. Little did Lawfer know, that was just the beginning of the rabbit hole. Slaughtered knights, the princess killed, the remains of a monster in Lombart's study, and treasonous materials found among the deceased advisor's belongings. Most curious was the barely recognizable corpse of Lombart, himself. It looked as though something had grown and burst from within him, breaking him in two as it went. They still had no idea what to make of that.
"How did it come to this?"
"Officer 1st Class Lawfer."
"Uh, yes! Yes, sir," a startled Lawfer replied.
He stood up, stiffly at attention.
"Damn, let my mind wonder a bit there," he thought unhappily.
Captain Lawson stood facing his son. His brow was wrinkled in helpless frustration watching how his downhearted Lawfer was.
"Begin your report," Lawson ordered.
Lawfer gulped, and reluctantly opened his mouth.
"Following a thorough investigation of the…"
"Oh, 'thorough'!" King Joshua snidely butted in.
Lawfer looked up at him, stunned by the outburst. Lawson contained his irritation, and merely stood with the proper pois while waiting for his king to get it out of his system.
"I'm sure you were very 'thorough'," disdain dripped from the Joshua's voice. "Thorough in looking for an out in your traitorous friends' traitorous slow-headed invalid of a brother."
"Milord, I promise you that I…"
But the king was not content to just cut off Lawfer once.
"Oh, you promise, too?" the king bitterly mocked. "You promise no evidence will be left out for the sake of this filthy cripple?"
Lawfer's mouth open in shock. The young knight's eye twitched as the rage began to boil.
"Milord!" Lawson spoke up loudly and quickly.
That seemed to work, as Lawfer snapped out of it and the king's attention was now on his father now.
"What is it, Captain?" the king asked.
"My son has been an upstanding member of our military the Artolian Knights Order for years now. I can assure you he left no stone unturned."
"Yes, I'm sure your son is an excellent judge of character," the king's sarcasm was thick. "After all, he only put me within striking range of that brute's sword by refusing his reward."
He looked down at Lawfer in disgust, raising his nose high. When he spoke it out was the side of his sneering mouth. Lawfer glared back, beginning the feel the same contempt for their king Arngrim had felt.
"And he only traveled with your pet mercenary for years, serving in the same band on hired blades. He only ate at his house on many an occasion or had both brothers over to eat at your home just as often," Joshua pressed.
"What are you inferring?" Lawfer asked.
"I'm inferring that the findings of your investigation are worthless! It's plain to me that 'Sir' Arngrim and his doodling mutant of a brother are guilty as sin."
Lawfer fought to keep his temper under control. As he took a few breaths, his fists were clenched and shaking at his sides. After his heart-rate went back down, he spoke again.
"His name is Roland, Highness," Lawfer said with an icy calm. "And if I may respectfully get back to my report, Your Majesty, I believe the evidence will back me up."
Joshua waved a dismissive hand, allowing him to continue.
"While father had his men turn Arngrim and Roland's house over for evidence of treason, I was in charge of combing through the personal possessions of Chancellor Lombart," Lawfer paused to point to the diagram of Lombart's office behind him. "We found he had several hidden compartments added to his office over the years. After checking the original building plans, we discovered none of these hidden crevices existed as of the castle's original construction."
One of the robed scholars rolled up the diagram and brought to the judge's stand so King Joshua could look it over up close. On the same large chart were the original plans, drawn by the architects who had built Castle Artolia.
"As you can see, Lombart's additions to his office and bed chamber were everywhere," Lawfer continued. "In the floor, in his desks, his wardrobe, and there was even one hidden room behind a bookcase in his office."
Lawfer took a breath, looking to the evidence table.
"Aside from that, there were several faked editions of previously existing books in his collection of tomes," he said.
He motioned for the woman attending the piles of findings.
"If you would, Dame Ophelia," he requested.
A middle-aged woman in dark crimson robes gathered up the materials from the evidence table and brought them to the king. As Joshua began leafing through the findings, Lawfer continued:
"Allegedly, these are supposed to be different editions from what can be found in most scholarly or mage's collections, but we quickly discovered there is no 4th Edition of Lord Ioan of Salerno's Alchemic Recipes. We actually have a record of Sir Ioan's works. He passed away while penning revisions for a 3rd Edition, but no fourth exists. That's just one example of his fraudulent books. There are several more, and they all contain coded 'additions' he or his co-conspirators could look up at any time."
"I would like to see an example of these additions," the king said.
"Well," Dame Ophelia said. "If His Majesty would turn to page 138 of the fake version of Sir Ioan's book. …Yes, right there, Your Majesty. You will find what looks like a figure for a diamond forming process. 'Tis actually a complete map of Artolia's sewer system. You can cross reference that with a regular map of the sewers I've included in the file."
"What could they have been using the sewers for?" King Joshua demanded.
Dame Ophelia produced another file from the stack, which was an additional copy of the map with several notes written on it. The sewer drains had been X'd off in three places.
"We are currently in the process of checking all the entrances and exits to the sewers," Ophelia answered. "So far, three of the barred off sewer drains have been tampered with. The bars can be removed and replaced with ease, allowing a person to enter or exit the city through them."
The king's eyes looked the alchemic table and the sewer plans up and down. There was no mistaking it. Young Sir Lawfer had actually done his job well. There was even a copy of the real 2nd Edition of Sir Ioan's book included to confirm the diamond forming process was not in there with the appropriate pages marked. Lastly, there was a complete record of the man's works. However, instead of feeling pleased, the spite continued to just grow in the Joshua's heart. He'd have that Roland's head yet. There had to be some justification among the evidence.
"That is again just one example of what we uncovered, Your Majesty," Dame Ophelia said. "If you look at this letter…"
She reached deeper into the pile on the judge's bench, producing a set of papers, which she gave to the king.
"You will find something much more immediately relevant to this case," she finished.
The king held up the letter.
"To my dearest Lombart," he read out.
The letter had been written in regular black ink. There also a copy of the letter written in regular ink as well, but it had additional notes includes, scribed in red. Several sentences and words were underlined. The king moved onto the next parchment, finding the marked words and phrases first copied down and the code within solved, revealing it to be a reply from one of Lombart's agents:
"Hired a mercenary from outside our inner circle to avoid suspicion as requested. It's the 'good captain's' favorite sword arm, Arngrim. He asked no questions. Scheduling and payment have been worked out. He will be ready to deliver the princess after his current mission. Contact me about getting the girl within the week."
"In their own words, they confirm Arngrim was ignorant of what they were planning," Dame Ophelia said. "Additionally…"
She then pointed to the other person at the evidence table, a man in dark blue robes holding a leather box.
"Sir Rutger here was the one who deciphered and collected coded messages sent to and from Villnore among Lombart's personal letters as well as decoding messages found in his personal journals, Your Majesty," she explained. "Their list of possible plans to subvert Artolia were extensive to say the leaser."
Lawfer chose that moment to speak up again.
"I would like to draw your attention to the case Sir Rutger is carrying, Your Majesty," he said. "In it is a list of Lombart's co-conspirators and suppliers. Neither Arngrim nor Roland were listed among them. In fact, you will find nothing about either one except in the decoded message in the letter you just read, sire."
"But why would he entrust a mission of this sort to someone not in his circle of traitors?" King Joshua demanded.
"He considered Arngrim more expendable than any of the contacts he'd spent years securing throughout Artolia," Lawfer answered. "At the very least, I think you will find this clears Roland's name."
"We shall see…" the king uttered. "I would like to confirm that Arngrim and Roland were not among his co-conspirators. You said there was a list."
Captain Lawson motioned for Sir Rutger. In an instant, the man stood before the king holding the relevant papers in hand.
"Sir Rutger, can you confirm Arngrim or Roland are not among Lombart's listed contacts?" Lawson asked.
"Yes," Sir Rutger answered. "After an extensive study of the man's personal journals and letters from alleged friends around from the kingdom, I've compiled a near complete list of his co-conspirators, and I believe you will notice a reoccurring trend."
Rutger handed them to the king, who began to look through them.
"His connections here in Artolia mostly consist of career criminals, with a few exceptions," Sir Rutger explained.
"A few exceptions?" Joshua asked.
"Yes," Sir Rutger answered. "A few seemingly upstanding citizens were in his circle. However, you'll notice a pattern there as well. They all committed serious crimes but were all let off very lightly due to Lombart's intervention. If you look right… here, Your Majesty…"
Joshua read where directed as Sir Rutger continued.
"His fake book editions were penned by one Hnefill Anderson," Rutger said. "A crooked scribe who narrowly escaped a life sentence for perjury thanks to Lombart advocating for him. The materials to construct them came from Rudolf Ottoson, an archiver who was caught making personal use of bank records."
"Acquitted by Lombart?" King Joshua asked.
"Acquitted by Lombart," Sir Rutger nodded.
The king looked at these two cases with a mix of stunned shock and anger.
"But how? I mean…" Joshua shook his head. "I know I pushed a lot of these cases onto Lombart's shoulders, but I should have still at least seen these cases on my desk afterwards."
Captain Lawson and Sir Rutger just coughed, both unwilling to point out that the king had basically given Lombart free rein of the castle for years. It'd have been easy for the man to just neglect to tell the king of his deeds, just as Joshua neglected his royal duties and let Lombart do as he wished. Joshua flipped to another page on Lombart's list.
"Who is this Lezard character?" he asked.
"We don't currently know, but he seemed to be a supplier of some sort," Lawson answered.
"Then what do you know?" the king asked.
"About that man? Nothing," Captain Lawson said. "But I can put your mind at ease in one regard. Lombart colluded with no one else in your employ, Your Majesty. Within these stone walls, he worked alone. Thankfully."
"Why would he do that?" the king inquired.
"Well," Lawson was reluctant to answer that. "He was your chief advisor, Your Majesty. There were few matters of state which didn't go straight to his desk."
The king glowered at that. Then with stormy eyes, narrowed into angry slits, he went over these final materials. Beside the captain, Lawfer breathed easier. As the king read through this final piece of evidence they'd presented to him, surely Roland would get an innocent verdict. They had a letter confirming Arngrim was not among the Lombart's schemers, they had a list of his contacts, and a discernible pattern among those felons.
"So, the only citizens with legal positions in Lombart's employ all owed him their freedom," Joshua muttered.
"Yes, neither Arngrim nor Roland have any previous criminal records, and no contact prior contact with Lombart," Sir Rutger confirmed.
"I am the only member of the court Arngrim took jobs from. I can vouch for that," Lawson added.
"Yet I'm expected to believe he took a job delivering a crate and didn't check the contents beforehand?" Joshua asked skeptically.
"Yes," Lawson glumly answered. "He was foolhardy, but not actively traitorous, in his final day among us."
"Not actively traitorous?" Joshua balked. "He killed several of my knights when they went to confront him."
"With due respects, Arngrim never just attacked anyone, My Liege," Lawfer said. "For his many flaws, he deserved his sword for battle, legal mercenary work, and self-defense."
"He stayed his hand when I approached him," Lawson spoke up.
"Are you suggesting my knights took the first swing?" Joshua rasped.
"Yes, my king," father and son answered at once.
Joshua glowered, but moved on.
"And you can confirm you found nothing among his or Roland's belongings at their house?" Joshua pressed.
"Nothing, Your Highness," Lawson shook his head. "Absolutely nothing."
Lawfer glanced at Roland, who had sat quietly the entire time. He smiled and nodded in assurance, but Roland did not reciprocate.
"Very well," Joshua replied. "Concerning Lombart's contacts, then. How many of these rats have you arrested as of this hearing?"
"So far, there have been ten arrests," Lawson responded. "Well, eleven, including Roland."
The king slammed his palms down on the desktop.
"There are close to a hundred names listed here, but you have only a few in custody?" the king screamed at the captain. "I demand to know why."
Lawfer cleared his throat, getting the attention of the ruler and the captain.
"As stated, Your Majesty, most of these people are criminals," Lawfer's explanation did little to help the disposition of the incensed monarch. "Many of them would have gone into hiding the instant news about the princess's passing got out. They will likely continue to lay low until they feel it is safe to come out."
"So, they think the matter of my daughter's murder and their high treason is something they can just wait out, do they?" the king growled.
"I do not pretend to know what these villains think, Your Majesty," Lawfer said.
The king gripped the desk in front of him, trembling in anger. His knuckles turned white as a shrill growl came from him.
"Hang them! This instant!" Joshua barked. "I want the kingdom to see what happens to those who conspire against the royal family!"
Lawson stretched out his hand to halt his lord.
"Your Highness, wait," he said. "Hear me out."
"Wait? Wait! Whatever for?" the king shouted back.
"We have barely had a chance to interrogate these felons," Lawson stated. "We may lose the trail to the others completely if they take their secrets to the grave."
"There must be a hanging," the king insisted.
He looked past Lawson, setting eyes on Roland. He smiled viciously and pointed to the sickly young man.
"You'll do," he said.
Roland did not seize up, or gasp. His shoulders merely slumped, and he looked away sadly. His spirit was resigned, and he'd known what the king would do no matter how Lawson and Lawfer tried to help him. It was as Arngrim always said:
"He's a sad, pitiful king. He ain't interested in doing right by people like us. He's looks down on us from his ivory tower like we're ants."
"What?" Lawfer cried out.
He tried to take a step towards the king, but Lawson restrained him.
"Guards! Restrain him if he tries anything!" the king commanded.
"Your Majesty, you know Roland and Arngrim are innocent," Lawfer said. "Why are you doing this?"
"Innocent? Innocent! Look at him!" Joshua shouted. "This weasel lived off his own brother."
Lawfer hid his gritted teeth behind his lips. He sucked in an angry breath.
"I beg His Majesty to review the evidence again," his voice was shaky. "The letter…"
"Is useless!" Joshua cut him off. "That brute's motive for is clear as day. He mocked me and then used my daughter for money!"
Roland's head shot up, eyes burning with an anger not unlike his brother's. He stood up faster than he ever had, as rage and indignance on Arngrim's behalf overtook him.
"Arngrim was not like that," Roland stated firmly.
All eyes turned to him as, with great difficulty, Roland stayed on his feet. He wobbled with his crutch still confiscated, but he did not fall. He stared the king down sternly.
"I care not what you say about me," Roland proclaimed. "But you will not dishonor my brother again. Since this trial has begun, you have done nothing but spit on those who serve you and spoke poorly of a man who already dead."
"Guards," Joshua snapped his finger and pointed at Roland.
The knights took a step toward Roland.
"Wait, Your Majesty," Lawfer and Lawson both begged.
"Why should I?" Joshua demanded.
"Please, can a man not defend his own brother's memory?" Lawfer asked.
The king scowled at him, and answered:
"No. The little cripple and his neanderthal of a brother have no rights. I will see him hanged."
"This is a sham!" Lawfer hollered. "We've proven his innocence! You have no grounds to hang him on!"
"I am the king! I can do whatever I want!"
Lawfer was stunned. He'd known for some time how craven the king was, but this was beyond anything he thought Joshua was capable of. He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to speak.
"Take that man away," the king motioned for the guards to escort Roland away.
Then he turned to Lawfer.
"And get this man out of my sight," he ordered.
The dam broke and Lawfer exploded. Before he could do anything, he was grabbed by a pair of strong hands and dragged from the witness stand.
"You low down…" Lawfer snarled. "Arngrim was right about you all along!"
The king's eye twitched and the corner of his mouth pulled down in a snarl, revealing his teeth. He looked at Captain Lawson, standing by his head bowed.
"And Captain Lawson, see to it that you get your son under control," the king was dismissive. "Furthermore, Lawfer, you are to be demoted for speaking out of term against me. You are no longer a Knight of Artolia, but a mere foot soldier. A fitting end to a man who is but a footnote in the history of his own family."
Lawson said nothing. The king narrowed his eyes again.
"Captain, did not you hear me?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, I heard you well," Lawson answered gravely.
He finally looked up, meeting his king's gaze.
"But why, Your Highness? Why hang Roland when we have no cause?"
"To send a message," King Joshua coldly answered. "The people must be shown I am willing to do whatever it takes to punish those who conspire against the throne."
"There is no evidence against him," Lawson reiterated.
"On the contrary," the king answered coldly. "He and his brute of a brother were the last people to see my daughter alive on the night she disappeared. Really, Captain? She just happened to get caught after leaving that ruffian's house? I think not. You may not have found anything incriminating the brothers among Lombart's belongings, but no criminal ever writes everything down."
The king grabbed the gavel.
"Roland Gusson, you are hereby charged with treason, conspiracy, and aiding and abetting in the murder of my one and only beloved daughter. In seven day's time, you will henceforth be hanged from the gallows until dead. I suggest you use this next week to make your final peace with the gods. Case dismissed."
The king banged the gavel, sealing his judgment against the young man. Roland just continued to glare at him.
"I used to be envious of my brother's trips to the castle," Roland said. "Now I can see why Arngrim always insisted I wasn't missing much. I really wasn't. This place holds nothing of worth."
The king just sniffed in response. Roland didn't fight as he was hauled away. As he was led down the aisle back to his cell, he retreated into his thoughts.
"At least I can tell mother and father you grew to be a strong man, Brother," Roland thought. "I hope Valhalla suits you well. May they be ever patient with you."
"No! This is a miscarriage of justice! You cannot do this! You can't…"
The door slammed, muffling Lawfer's shouts and cries to tense murmurs out in the hall.
"Cor, that 'im?"
"Yes, I can smell his blood. Now shush. He might wake up."
"I dunno. It smells a little… faint, I guess?"
"That's because he's under a bunch of blankets, you git."
"It also smells like he's been all over here."
"Because he probably has."
Ahead of them was a camping site set up under a rock shelter in the side of the mountain, along the path. The sleeping form of a man was concealed within his sleeping bag, his back pressed up against the rock wall behind him. The campfire he'd set up still burned brightly a few feet away, and the mule which carried the traveler stood nearby, its lead rope tied to a dead tree within the fire's light. The flames illuminated the little wooded area brightly. A small cluster of trees surrounded the overhanging rock which made up the man's temporary roof.
The mule's ears were flat against its head, and it began pulling on the rope. It'd smelled something it didn't like in the bushes farther back on the trail. In the dark, the equine saw the flash of red eyes, the telltale sign of Undead, and it nickered in panic.
"Quick, before that blighter gives us away," one of the vampires hissed.
They kept out of their hiding spot and split up to creep up on the sleeping man from both sides. They couldn't pass up a meal like this, not when it was so rare to find a living human in the Artolia mountains. They both stood over the sleeping bag now, licking their lips. The man had covered even his face to protect himself from the icy air.
"Barely tarnished," the leader of the two thought hungrily. "Such a tasty morsel. Never thought we'd eat this well again after we lost Castle Trelleborg."
They stooped on either side of the man as the mule continued to nicker and whinny not far away. One of them slowly reached down and grabbed the top flap. They nodded to each other and then he yanked it up.
"What?" they yelled.
Beneath the covering where his head should have been was a bunched up cloth stained in his dried blood. One of the Undeads suddenly shot upright, painfully exhaling as he arched his back and threw his head back. His partner jumped up, startled at his outburst.
"Cor, what's wrong Rog?"
Then Rog fell still and started to crumble to dust. The other vampire just got a look at an arrow stuck into Rog's back before his friend fully disintegrated. The remaining Undead whirled around to find who had shot his companion. Peeking out from behind a tree behind them was a mustachioed man shaggy brown hair. He held a double crossbow. He fired the second shot, but the vampire jumped over it, clinging to the roof of the rock shelter.
The beast then crawled to the edge of the overhang like an insect before jumping and rushing the man. Instead of trying to reload his crossbow in time to take another shot, the man simply dropped it and pulled out a knife from his belt. The man tried to stab the vampiric monster, but it caught his hand and pulled the man close.
The vampire's jaws opened wide to take a bite out of his throat, and it never saw the second knife. Its head pulled backwards when it felt the cold silver-laced steel enter its back and pierce through its heart. Shrieking in agonized fury, the vampire lunged again for the man's throat. It failed to notice the man had pulled his hand free until he stabbed straight up, piercing through the underside of the undead's chin and into the roof of its mouth, clamping its lips shut.
The vampire let out of a muffled whine of agony as it stumbled away, already crumbling, and within seconds, it was no more. The man breathed out a relieved sigh and leaned back against the tree he'd hid behind.
"That was a close one, Janus, old boy," he said to himself.
He glanced over at the still scared mule.
"There, there, girl," he cooed at the animal.
He stepped away from the tree and went over to calm it, retrieving his knives along the way.
"Now I just hope the Undead don't find me again," he thought.
Janus grabbed the lead rope and cautiously approached the mule, softly cooing and speaking to the scared animal. She stamped her hooves and pulled on the rope as she tried to rear up at one point, but there wasn't enough slack for that. Janus gingerly began rubbing the mule's neck before scratching it under its chin. She still snorted, flicked her tail about and took steps in place, but was slowly calming down.
"There, there, girl," he said. "It's all well now."
As he calmed his ride through the mountains, he glanced down at the land below them. They were finally on the East end of the mountains and Crell Monferaigne was far below them.
"I'm almost home, father."
"Now, that won't do. That won't do at all."
Idunn looked down at the field before her, hands on her hips. Her blonde twin braids got caught in the wind and fluttered behind her as the nature goddess looked around, 'Tsking'. She hiked up her pale green skirt and jogged down the hill into the grassy plain, revealing her sandaled feet. She also wore a long cloak over her shoulders, which seemed to be made up entirely of brown falcon feathers.
As Idunn strode through the field, she noted sadly how the grass was sickly. Many of the blades were yellow at the tip, and the flowers in the field were all malnourished. The goddess of Spring knelt in the grass and leaned forward, observing some half-dead barneblads. Their purple petals were shriveled, turning black at their edges, and their stems drooped. Idunn carefully examined them, running her hands over them to get a feel for their symptoms.
"Idunn?" a familiar voice called, sounding surprised.
The nature goddess turned and saw Lenneth hovering low in the air behind her, accompanied by Arngrim and Jelanda. Lenneth brought them down for a landing, gently touching down a short ways from her.
Lenneth began to approach the other goddess, flanked by her einherjar on both sides. As they walked, The Valkyrie glanced around in search of something. Jelanda noted how Lenneth seemed both perplexed and concerned about this situation.
"Something the matter, Lady Valkyrie?" Jelanda asked.
"Tis nothing," Lenneth quietly replied.
"Hail, old friend," Idunn stood up as they approached.
"Salutations," Lenneth responded as the two exchanged a forearm shake.
"Arngrim, Jelanda, this is Idunn, goddess of Spring, apples, and youth," she introduced them.
"Greetings, Lady Idunn," Jelanda bowed low before the nature goddess.
"Hey," Arngrim said with a nod.
"Ah, yes, Lenneth's newest einherjar. I can see…" Idunn trailed off when Arngrim absently picked his nose. She recovered it quickly and smiled at Lenneth. "You have chosen interesting characters this time."
Lenneth didn't need to turn around. The sound of Jelanda whacking Arngrim with her scepter and the ensuing "Hey!" from him was enough to tell her he'd done something improper. Again. Idunn suppressed a laugh and smiled almost sympathetically at her. Lenneth did her best not to sigh, but allowed a little roll of her eyes. Then the goddesses shared a smile, understanding each other perfectly without a word.
Lenneth was the first to break the moment, as she looked around again. A faint look of certain formed in her eyes when she regarded the other Aesir again. Before she spoke to Idunn again, though, she turned to her einherjar.
"Arngrim, Jelanda, if I could have a moment to speak privately to Idunn, that would be much appreciated," she said.
"Sure. I got morning sword drills I need to do, anyway," Arngrim shrugged.
"And I have magic studies I need to catch up on," Jelanda said.
The former princess tapped the leather book pouch hanging by its strap around her shoulder. Then they both turned and walked away, giving the goddesses their privacy. As soon as Lenneth was certain, they were out of earshot, she turned to Idunn.
"Idunn, where are your guards and attendants?" she asked. "I do not see them, nor do I sense their presence."
Idunn looked away and began playing with one of her braids.
"Ah, that. Well, you must understand…" she hesitated.
Lenneth crossed her arms, her demeanor becoming stern.
"Please tell me you did not come down to Midgard alone," the Valkyrie said.
Idunn squirmed, and then smiled weakly.
"Very well, I will refrain," she said.
Lenneth's expression did not change, but Idunn was expecting her not to be amused. She sighed, holding up her arms in surrender.
"Alright, alright," Idunn gave in. "I came down without permission."
Lenneth's arms fell to her sides as her mouth went slightly agape in response to the sheer audacity of the other goddess. She quickly recovered, setting her jaw firm. Knowing a strongly worded lecture was coming, Idunn knew she had to act quick.
"But I had good reason to for this impropriety," Idunn hastily added, holding her hands up as though that would fend off the appalled battle goddess.
"Good reason?" Lenneth demanded. "Idunn, what you have done is irresponsible. What if the humans found you?"
Idunn frowned heatedly.
"Lenneth, I'm a goddess," she objected. "Besides, as you can see, Freya is allowing me to borrow her Falcon Feather Cloak so I can fly to and from Valhalla. I just did not tell her I would be coming to Midgard."
"Be that as it may, you are not a goddess of war, dear Idunn," Lenneth disputed. "Your power cannot be used to harm others. You bring life and renewal."
"I know what kind of goddess I am, Lenneth. If you would allow me to speak, I would explain."
"Very well," Lenneth relented. "I am listening."
"Thank you," the other goddess was greatly relieved. "I am so glad to be dealing with you. Hrist would likely be dragging me back to Valhalla by my braids already."
"I have half a mind to do precisely that," Lenneth thought.
"Well…" Idunn looked unhappy. "Odin and Freya have told me to drop the matter of Midgard's imbalances."
"You would defy them?" Lenneth asked cautiously.
"Tis more that I cannot drop this matter," Idunn protested. "Lenneth, I am a nature goddess. I cannot stop tending to the green of the worlds anymore than you can stop sorting souls."
Lenneth's expression began to soften after that comment.
"I have created a warm, wet Spring, but look at this field, dearie."
Idunn gestured all around them. Then she crouched down, motioning for Lenneth to do the same. The Valkyrie complied to observe. The Spring goddess waved her hand over the ground, and the topsoil parted, revealing the earth beneath.
"See this, Lenneth?" Idunn asked. "That right there is good soil. The richest you will find in all Midgard."
"Yes, I see," Lenneth agreed.
She put a hand to her chin as she considered the dying plant life in what should have been ideal growing conditions. She reached out, plucking up a tiny of bit of it and rolling it around in her hand. It felt like good soil, too.
"All the plants are native, there is nothing here to upset the balance in this environment," Lenneth commented.
She looked around them thoughtfully.
"This makes no sense," she said.
"That is why I dare to defy Odin just a little," Idunn said.
Then she beamed.
"Yet I am glad to see you know a thing or two about growing plants, Lenneth," Idunn added. "I know this form of life falls a bit outside of your area of expertise."
"This knowledge of plant life is… a gift from many of my human lifetimes," Lenneth replied. Then she flicked the dirt sample from her fingers and did her best wipe it off in the grass. "A gift I was not expecting to be useful in my work."
"There is one other thing I would like to show you, then," Idunn stated.
The nature goddess closed the earth again and both Aesir stood up. Idunn nodded for Lenneth to follow to and turned away, walking up to a small evergreen spruce tree, which was missing about half its needles. In a moment, both goddesses stood at its trunk. The Spring goddess stared up at sadly, placing her hand upon the bark.
"I planted this one a mere fifteen years ago," Idunn said.
Lenneth gave a look of surprise, the spruce was only about a dozen feet tall.
"Spruces are supposed to grow quickly, correct?" The Valkyrie quietly asked.
"Uh-huh," Idunn hummed. "Yet look at it. Ideal conditions and it looks like I tried to make it grow in thick, rocky soil."
An uncomfortable quiet set in.
"I… had already noticed much of Midgard's flora looks… pitiful," Lenneth admitted.
Idunn nodded, humming again.
"Are there many places like this?" Lenneth was growing concerned.
"Oh, yes, and this field is not even the worst of it," Idunn replied.
She pointed eastward.
"Some of the imbalance is so bad, 'tis still winter in a few places where Spring should have set in months ago. You will find a big one east of the mountains, in Crell Monferaigne."
"Huh," Lenneth droned.
She looked at pitiable spruce tree again and decided. Her eyes met Idunn's as she spoke again:
"Even so, we must get you back to Valhalla before you are missed."
Idunn winced and was about to protest.
"Therefore, if you are to finish your inspection in a reasonable amount of time, we shall simply have to accompany you."
Idunn was taken back at first, and then beamed.
"Thank you, Lenneth."
"Let us be off. I will collect my einherjar."
