They had already known that the forest would be the most dangerous part of their journey. However, the fake bandits still stopped them much sooner than they had expected."Halt!"
One of them marched ahead, supposedly their leader. Unlike what one would expect from a merchant, his posture was straight and his gait was filled with power. Even his equipment looked shiny and new. Though of course, the leader looked far less exceptional among his men of equal dress. With their subdued colors, the "robbers" had blended into the treeline all this time, but as soon as the plains behind the group of pilgrims had been covered by trees, the bandits had revealed themselves. Not even the border river to Lord Nasica"s territory was in sight yet. This was brazen, a true lock down.
"What do you want?" One of the men in their group pushed up his green hood and looked at the fake bandits with a frown.
"What do you think we want? It"s your money, your money," the bandit leader grinned in response. Of course, they knew that this was a lie as much as anyone.
Still with a frown, but without fear, the pilgrim looked over his group of travel companions, all hidden under their green robes.
"You would dare rob faithful on a pilgrimage?" he asked at last, his voice terse and with the hint of threat within.
"You are "faithful", are you?" the bandit leader sneered. "Check them!" he said, and the other bandits began to walk up to the group. Each held up several portrait drawings, their purpose obvious. Not something to be expected from real bandits.
"We have been on the road for days, in hopes we might see the Caverns of Waterstone within the great lands of Lord Nasica. Only there might we be able to cure my aunt"s ailments." The pilgrim looked over to one of the figures in the group, a smaller stature who was hunched over, almost folded into itself. With no regard for the pilgrims, the lead robber marched over and pulled down the robe of the hunched figure. Reveled beneath was an old woman, her arms twisted in unnatural directions and her spine distorted, a dull look of agony on her face. As the bandit touched her arms, she groaned in pain and tears pooled in the crow"s feet around her eyes. She still held herself back, out of fear for the gangster"s retaliation.
"Hmm... we can"t let you through." Although the bandit couldn"t find a problem with the pilgrims, his face still hardened and his teeth clenched.
"What does this mean? Does a robber now dare stop pilgrims on their divine journey? Wait until the good lord Nasica hears from this, you heathen!"
"Who will know if you just disappear in these woods?" the bandit said, but failed to hide the slight hesitation in his speech. With narrowed eyes, the pilgrim pounced on the presented weakness.
"You believe Lord Nasica does not know what happens right across his borders? I"ve served a scout in the past, I know how they do their work. Are you sure you wish to detain us?"
This wasn"t an empty threat, and everyone within the small woods knew it. For now, the "bandits" still operated outside of Nasica"s lands. Thus, they were safe from the lord"s warriors. However, if they began to detain pilgrims, Lord Nasica would have sufficient reason to invade another lord"s lands. After all, the pilgrims provided a good portion of his territory"s income. Even worse, some other lords might become annoyed by the actions of the "bandits" and their secret master.
"Who would!?" the bandit barked back, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Anything?" he asked his fake warrior friends who still went through the crowd and their supplies.
"This one"s a real beauty," one of them shouted back.
"Is she on the drawings then?"
"No luck. None of them are. Their story could be real."
"Who would believe that?" the bandit leader grumbled under his breath. After a while, he composed himself and turned back to the pilgrim. "You can leave, but all your goods stay with us. You can"t blame us for being robbers, can you?"
"But what about our offerings?" The pilgrim got loud, his eyes desperate. "How will we give offers the great seer without any wealth? Who will help my aunt?"
"The kingdoms are at war, times are harsh." the bandit sneered, his arrogant att.i.tude returned. "You should have considered this before you traveled here, right through the forest. You should have known better, really. Boys, take their stuff!"
Minutes later, the bandits disappeared behind the trees again. Robbed of everything but the clothes on their backs, the pilgrims continued their journey. However, a long time later, once they had long entered Lord Nasica"s territory and saw the walls of the capital in the distance, these travelers changed their stances, as if they were different people. Quite unlike humble pilgrims, they straightened their backs and lengthened their strides. Even the old woman plagued with arthritis walked straight as an arrow, as she rocked her stiff back to and fro.
"That was close," the leader spoke.
"But also as we expected. Not even King Pacha would dare detain pilgrims, not yet. If he did, he would make all religious lords of the center his sworn enemies. Since he already has so many foes all around him, even he cannot afford any more." Tama smiled as she brushed the hood out of her face.
"But we have lost all of our materials. How will we free our people?"
"What materials? All of those supplies were cheap decoys for Pacha"s false bandits to find. None of it really mattered." A sly smirk on her face, she looked at the rest of their group, especially the still hunched figures in the back. Unlike her ghost warriors, those people had truly been intimidated by the bandits. "Anything we need, we have with us already."
With a determined look on her face, Tama looked east, to the walls in the distance. Somewhere beyond, her brother Fadelio would be awaiting his rescue.
__________________________
All around, the city bustled with activity. Betucio still remembered the last time he had come to Porcero. On the day King Corco, then crown prince, had been sent into exile, the governors had met here to pay their respects to the young prince, or rather to show their deference to his father. Back then, the town had been run-down, aptly symbolized by the rotten, dark brown and green planks of its harbor. In stark contrast, in his sight workers rushed all around the harbor to replace the old planks with clean new stones. Even beyond the workers, the streets had become a bustle of activity. Although he had brought a local guide from Lord Saliena, Betucio soon realized that he wouldn"t need one. If he wanted to find the goal of his journey, all he had to do was follow the river of people.
After he had followed the human stream for a while, the governor found himself in front of a large shop. Impossible windows of impossible clear gla.s.s opened the view on the diverse and tempting wares on offer. Despite the fragile border, no one around had the courage to pick up a stone and make them his. The two foreign warriors in front of the entrance were not the only reason for their hesitation.
No, Betucio could hear a far more concerning cause all around him. On his march through the streets, he could pick up conversations here and there, all in infinite praise of the "Wonders of the East" and its mysterious owner, the ever-charming foreigner with the tongue of silver. Why would these commoners even consider stealing from this shop when it had such a good reputation with the locals? Still, Betucio a.s.sumed that the good stead of the establishment protected it no more than the soldiers in its front... or the half a dozen additional foreign faces who dotted the street and observed the storefront.
As he was guided past the warriors, they eyed him with suspicion, a great shame for such a famous lord as himself. However, he chose to ignore their lack of propriety. After all, he was a guest in their house, and he was the one who had come with a request. As soon as he stepped through the gate, he was no longer on King Amautu"s lands. Instead, he had entered King Corco"s domain. Here, his word was worth no more than that of a commoner; especially a talented one, if the rumors were to be believed. With a soft chime, his presence was announced to the packed room.
"Welcome, guest!" Through the ma.s.ses of people and shelves of displayed wares, a young foreign man greeted him in impeccable Yakua and offered a polite bow. "This servant"s name is Alyn. What is it master desires? This servant will fulfill all to the best of his abilities." Once he looked back up, and before Betucio could answer, the servant looked over to the governor"s guide. "Oh, Official Taquais. What great joy that you have brought us new business like this. How can the Wonders of the East repay you?" compared to his att.i.tude towards Betucio, the servant"s smile was a good few shades warmer.
"Ah, excuse me, Alyn." An embarra.s.sed Taquais waved away the closeness of their host. "We are not here to do business. Rather, you should have received a message in advance about our arrival. This is Lord Betucio, Governor of the North." As Betucio was introduced, the commoner servant"s eyes first turned large, before he showed another bow.
"This commoner apologizes from the depths of his heart," he said, though there was no panic in his voice.
"It"s fine. There are many issues to discuss with the king"s representative. This lord a.s.sumes it is fine to step through and into the back?"
Despite his evident mistake, the young merchant soon recovered his composure. After a long, hard look at the banner on Betucio"s robe, he bowed again, with the same polite att.i.tude as before. Betucio felt no servility in his actions, no respect for his n.o.ble caste.
*Another annoyance to ignore.*
"Of course, Governor Betucio. This way please."
Once they had pa.s.sed all the idiots so willing to give up their wealth for a few days of luxury, Betucio pa.s.sed through a small door hidden behind the shelves. Another foreigner stood guard in its front, but let them through when he saw them be guided by Alyn.
Although Betucio had reached the outside again, the high walls around the shop"s courtyard still cast shadows over him. Maybe only at midday would there be any light shining down into this place. When he looked around, he could see nothing, not even the elevated Ceros Castle in the distance.
*t appears Official Brym is worried about spies.*
His ideas were reinforced when he saw another two warriors stand guard across the yard. Again without words, the group of three crossed the empty s.p.a.ce.
*Nowhere for a spy to hide.*
At the last hurdle, they were forced to wait. With a "One moment please, Governor Betutcio," the merchant walked up to the guards and whispered Betucio"s purpose and t.i.tle into their ears. No matter their secrecy, how could they hide from the senses of a true cultivator? One of them nodded and made his way into the windowless, closed-off building to inform their master. Meanwhile, the servant turned around with another shallow, polite smile.
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"Lord Betucio, you will soon be called into the room. Until then, this servant beseeches you to remain here. Although it might be considered an inconvenience, recent developments have forced us to tighten our security measures. Official Taquais, you unfortunately do not have an invitation, so you will have to follow me back into the main hall. Please let me offer you our fine tea as an apology."
After he had watched the servants leave the yard in good spirits, Betucio focused his attention on the remaining warrior. Even though he offered the commoner the gift of a nod, he received no answer. The man only stared at him, focused on Betucio"s movements.
Did they believe a single warrior could guard a grand cultivator like himself? Still, Betucio wouldn"t act on anything, not now. For one, he had no interest in confrontation with King Corco"s men. He was here to strike a deal, not steal the secrets of brandy production. Even more, all of this felt like a trap, nothing else.
After all the guards he had seen on his way here, the governor would be foolish to believe this one warrior was all the security Brym could spare on his central circle. Thus, Betucio remained patient and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Soon, his meeting with Brym would begin. If he handled them poorly, the north could be dragged into a war just like the south had. At least he could hope for some good tea.