The aged adviser inwardly winces at Jathus’ overstep, keeping his face impassive as the Emperor replies. At the question posed, the wizard inclines his head respectfully as he breaks his silence with an airy baritone. “The young Emperor will find his trust well-placed in this house. If you will forgive an over-busy mind, would you allow an audience with us after the main council is adjourned? It is no secret that some in Valcia will not submit quietly, and proper diligence will start with our details in one accord. We surely face many questions upon our return to Lehrehn, and a word with you and your war commanders may ease any doubts abroad.”
Thaegrin bites his tongue, unsure if he has said too much already. His mind reflexively slips into the mental exercise Spinning Leaf, deflecting and redirecting any stress into an effort to relax his stance into a nonthreatening posture.
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"I am please that Rudianos still keeps a Farenweni slave as advisor. It is one of the reasons I sought the house to join my cause." The Emperor says to no one in particular. His gaze settles on the wizard.
"Alas, such an audience is not possible, nor I think, necessary. I simply want Jathus to consolidate his hold over Rudianos lands. Then, await my instructions."
Thaegrin blinks, and nods with a small polite smile. “Such is my eagerness to assist, your grace. Thankfully, my freedom was purchased, and I have willfully served the house for many years.”
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"Willfully? A dangerous word coming from an ex-slave of the Rudianos clan. Jathus! What have you to say for this brazen upstart!"
The emperor's face reddens to the point you might think him liable to pop,. Then suddenly, explosive laughter spews from the man.
"Whahahahahahahaha! You should have seen the looks on your faces! I don't care you keep about you Jathus, just get the job done. haha, whoo, whew...just kill your family soon."
Jathus was stunned by his new king. It was obvious now, he had made a serious mistake in character. The king was young, immature and longed for war. Jathus knew he had over spoken as soon as his last question formed sound. He had always been a man constantly learning his place, and how to act in formal situations and grasping at political understands. Still, the king was older in age, yet Jathus felt the king was far younger. He assumed the king wanted a the tittle and some glory to keep it. He barely remembered to provide the king with a fake smile and a half-hearted laugh.
He gave a quick eye at his adviser. He wanted to ask a question, he wanted to be told what to do. He quickly fell into quick sand. There was some of his house that he might be able to secure, but he knew his older brother might need the sword and his father would require it. "Thaegrin was long considered my fathers aid, and I would assume that he would align himself with me now."
"I have longed for my father dead, his complacently has been long starving my house of its glory. Lately, my family has become target of multiple assassination plots. Would you be the cause?"
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"You would dare accuse me of..." The Emperor stops mid-sentence, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"I have nothing to do with the hardships your family have endured. What I am ordering you to do is claim your place as head of the Rudianos household. Is there any part of this you do no understand? Are you prepared to disobey a direct order?"
Why? Why would anyone ask this? Thaegrin cannot resist shaking his head at Jathus’ accusations. He sighs wearily, and throws a glare at Jathus before addressing the Emperor.
“Nothing of the sort, your Highness. Our young lordling’s poor choice in words simply intended to ask if the Rudianos house can trust the Empire, should Lehrehn fall into danger from rebels. We will set to reorganizing of house control as soon as possible, if your Grace is kind enough to grant us leave?”
As he emphasizes the last word, Thaegrin sends a stern no-more-talking look to Jathus. He holds a bow to the Emperor, muttering a curse under his breath.
Shocked, Ezkal steps in to help the wizened wizard.
"Your honor, he understands full well. The lack of sleep plus the shock of finding the Rudianos lands here in such disarray has caused our young lord to be a bit jumpy. We will follow your wishes as soon as we are released."
Standing towards the back of the room, Anga listens intently to the discussion. His heart skips a beat as his Lord's son speaks. The muscles in his legs and arms coil and slowly release as the dialog continues. The man of secrets watches the Emperor from the corner of his eye, scrutinizing every shift of his stance, every crinkle of his brow.
Turning to retinue Jathus barks,"Do NOT excuse me! What I do is my own, and you do not have the command or merit to publicly question me!
"My lord, now that we have ruled out the obvious we can move on. You sire, just asked me to over through my house and it is not to far to question if you have already tried. Whats more important is that we understand there are those out there wishing to over throw the houses backing you. That those coming after me and my blood are really going after you and your power."
Thaegrin looks to the men and women flanking the Emperor. He gives a hopeless shrug, but says nothing.
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"No, my lord Jathus. Those coming after you are not coming after me. No, we will not be moving on. You and I are not equals: we are not peers. I require a level of meekness from my subordinates, and you have crossed the line into arrogance long ago."
The Emperor stands, draws a knife, and saunters toward Jathus. He addresses everyone but Jathus.
"Your lord is about to have an unfortunate experience. You are all to stand still. Anyone moves, and they die."
The Emperor turns to Jathus, his face inches from the young knight.
"Jathus. Stick out your tongue. You have spoken your last denigrating word in this life."
The wizard straightens at the drawn blade, and sends a look to the Thelkonlanders. Don’t. Thaegrin knew they were beyond words, and with his casual manipulation of the mundane dampened, he rarely felt this powerless.
" Cutting my tongue will not aid your reign. If you must appease your rage my king, I will nor can stop you. Be warned that in the same day I have bowed and committed my house to your glory, you have dealt a great blow to my greatest tool."
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"I do not doubt you will serve Jathus. The babbling brook and a glass of water can both quench thirst, I just prefer the still quiet of the glass of water."
With a single motion, Emperor Jonas Abellio slices through the flesh of Jathus' tongue. Blood runs from the young lordling's mouth as Abellio pats his cheek and hugs him like a father comforting a disciplined child. He gently places the severed tongue in Jathus' hand.
"Rest the night, then be about your work."
The Emperor's eyes come up. "Wizard. Take the Lord Jathus and this company from my sight. I expect a letter confirming Jathus' control of Lehrehn within a fortnight."
With a wave of his hand, the Emperor dismisses you.
“Surely, your Highness. We look forward to correspondence from Veir; it will be most helpful to know which rulers bend the knee, and which have not, in regard to our external affairs. Rudianos is here to serve, in battle and bliss.”
With a curt bow, he leads the others out of the Emperor’s room, eager to regain access to his magical abilities.
On their way back to the villa, Thaegrin turns to the others, his eyes distant with distraction. “If we are to leave tomorrow, I must visit the markets today, if any of you would care to join…”
"I will accompany you, there is much and more I still need to do." Facion quietly offers, as he walks alongside the procession. Thinking back on the many years spent in the kingdom's capitol the keeper of secrets remembers many of his old haunts. Wine sinks, taverns, whore-houses, places where the highest of the high mingle with the lowest of the low and neither bat an eye. Indeed there were several places that would suit his purposes this night.
During the attack Jathus kept his mind off of it, preparing physically and mentally for the separation. He was good as masking his pain, he was good at absorbing it, but this time it was a little to much. Jathus clutched his mouth with his hands and fell to his knees spewing blood from his mouth.
He held his head high as they walked through the streets. He had his shield back, he was a warrior again. Every so often he spit more blood out of his mouth, before taking more torn cloth and jamming it into his new stub. The thoughts working threw Jathus' would normally be said as orders, have now became much less. Instead of barking he remained quiet, and reserved. Partially due to the pain, but now Jathus longed for combat. He needed to use his blade to free himself from thought.
Tholan nodded to Thaegrin. "A visit to the market sounds good." He turned to Ezkal and muttered in a low voice, "I'm not quite sure why, but I'm rather in the mood for a nice rare cooked slab of meat..." A little gleam was in his eye, and a barely suppressed smile on his face as he moved to follow Thaegrin.
“Marvelous. I have business at the arcanium study, so if any of you are joining me inside, you will be expected to maintain some level of quiet, which might now prove easier for some of you than others.”
Thaegrin keeps an impassive expression as he turns his gaze away from Jathus. He begins down the road leading to the centers of commerce, and raises his head, as though just remembering something. He removes a small coin purse and tosses it the Halfblood.
“I nearly forgot our wager,” he states.
“Aname ammelaan lairailanir, latymelv ceilwaw,” he adds with the expectant look of a maker of puns, putting small effort in concealing a smile.
“Two spring-loaded wrist sheathes, please.”
"But of course." Facion quips as he catches the pouch, quickly looking through it to ensure the wagered sum was there in it's entirety.
The wizard addresses the Rudianos in a delicate tone, “Sir Jathus, if it is all the same to you, would you mind if I store your tongue, for safe keeping? Merely until we return to Lehrehn, then I shall return it to you if you wish.”
Slightly irritated at his lack of preparation, the old scholar retrieves a mildly curative potion, and takes a small sip to make room for the tongue. “If memory serves, this will preserve it until then.”
Unsure of how to respond Jathus speaks, "aaa i ooo eeep." Quickly he realizes and shakes his head. Jathus then points at himself and rotates his pointer towards the villa.
Answering Thaegrin, Jathus nods.
Thaegrin stows away the vial. He looks to Jathus’ bodyguard. “Keep a watchful eye, even on the new villa servants. I will be gone for quite some time.”
Understanding that the young lord as endured quite a bit for one day, the wizard watches Sir Jathus continue to the villa. He turns to the others, “Now then, shall we?”
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Jathus and Helena depart for the villa.
Before long, the rest find themselves inside the Whispering Will-O-Wisp. Tall bookshelves filled with eclectic tomes line every wall save the bar. The heady aroma of Farenwenii wine mingles with the spicy sweet aroma of good pipe weed.
The patrons look with puzzled eyes at the awkward group strolling in. Most quietly resume their various pursuits, but a few watch with mild interest.
The inn keeper calls across the sitting room.
"Keep it down. Hold up one finger for books, two for drink, and three for food."
The old scholar quietly makes his way to the bar, nonchalantly pointing two fingers as he takes a seat. He keeps a low voice.
“A clove honey mead, dashed with ground juniper, then add a raw egg. The physician tells me it eases my unquiet humours.”
Thaegrin makes a friendly smile. “It’s been ages since my last visit, and I merely need to recoup the cost of my studies. I trust you might know of persons or places interested in purchasing a scroll or two?”
He lets the coin in his purse jingle a bit as he draws enough for his drink.
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The barman nods and begins putting the drink together.
"I am such an interested person, sir. The prices are set as I am sure you know. Lay the merchandise on the bar and I will deliver the appropriate sum. Minus the cost of the drink obviously."
He shakes his head, meaning for Thaegrin to put his coin away.
Seeing the wizard safely to his destination, Facion slips away as the others enter the establishment. Taking care to confuse his path, he makes sure to circle back on himself multiple times before continuing. Eventually he comes to a cross road a few buildings down from The Squires Daughter. Surreptitiously he once more checks for any signs of notice or that he's been followed.
Thaegrin nods, pleased. He tries to be quiet as he lays out tightly-rolled parchment on the bar, again and again, totaling to seven scrolls. He also displays a wand, raising an eyebrow in question. “This will shoot orbs of pure magic. I used it only once; it was not as helpful as I hoped. I will part with it minus twenty-five of the market price.”
“I also intend to broaden my studies. Where might I find a scholar willing to let me copy a few incantations as well?”
Tholan looks around the remarkably quiet bar and harrumphs (quietly) into his beard. He follows Thaegrin to the bar, and motions for a mead as well. "What kind of bar is so damnably quiet?" he muttered to himself. He looked around, to see if he recognized anyone, or if anyone in particular stood out within the bar.
"Ha brother! We haven't had a drinking contest in years!" Ezkal bellowed as they walked into the bar.
Thaegrin shakes his head and shrugs to the barman, keeping a low tone, “…and this is his inside voice…” He inclines his head to Ezkal with a smirk. Sipping his drink, wizard continues his conversation, “Do you know where I can record the spells I seek?”
Tholan hides a massive grin in his beard as he hears Ezkal's bellow, then motions to the seat next to himself, and makes an exaggerated, only slightly sarcastic shushing motion. When Ezkal is close enough, Tholan mutters quietly to him, "We'll have that contest soon enough, brother. For now, for Thaegrin's sake, we should probably just quietly enjoy our mead. It's not quite like we make it at home, but it's surprisingly good for Southern drink."
Ezkal waves to the patrons. "Sorry! Sorry!" he whispers.
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The barman think a moment, then says, "Hmm. Old Zed may have 'em. He's an old wizard. Lives 'bout 2 days north of Veir. Not a good tempered guy, but the worst he'd usually do is force cage you for a few days for disturbing him. Sometimes, people have even caught him in a helpful mood. Maybe you'll get lucky."
The barman's attention is suddenly called by another patron, so he excuses himself.
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MEANWHILE
Anga looks back and forth at the intersection of two dirty roads. Ahead, the Squire's Daughter sits as ever: a lump of coal to most, but a diamond in the rough for those clever enough to learn its secrets.
There are only a few people about. Most seem to be going about their own business, but there is a bard out front plucking his mandolin.
Why be outside when the coin for playing is inside?
Thaegrin nods appreciatively to the barman and turns to Tholan beside him. Aware of any unwelcome ears, he keeps his voice low. “Today’s developments were unexpected, to say the least. I do not look forward to the tasks that lie ahead, since I have toiled for over a century in the same study. My, ah, resources were never intended to deplete so quickly, and I worry whatever remains will be too volatile for my purposes.”
The arcanist sips his drink and idly looks over the barkeep’s visible stock. “If promises are kept, an arrangement must be made by sundown. I imagine you are eager to return to your lands and continue your business?”
Tholan grins at Thaegrin's words. Responding in a similar tone he says, "I would be glad to provide any assistance that you may need. Should it become at all... volatile... I'll endeavor to resolve it as quickly as possible."
Ignoring the minstrel Anga steps into another dive bar several buildings down from the Daughter. At the counter he orders a pint of cheap and takes a large swig, swilling about in his mouth he spits it out in a dark corner near the back of the establishment and pours the rest of the foul beverage down the front of his tunic. Seeking out a back room or quiet stall he changes his face with his kit of dyes and hair. His appearance loses the doughy commonplace aspect of a servant. And taking on the weather-worn pot-marks of a tired old seadog.
Standing up again he visibly slouches and stumbles as he makes his way to a back exit . Weaving back and forth, occasionally bumping off of the dirty buildings, the keeper of secrets starts a slurring rendition of an old sea shanty he picked up from years hanging around the Veir docks. Mumbling, bumbling, and hacking he shuffles his way around the block and approaches The Squires Daughter from the opposite end of the street than before.
Seeing the squire in front of the Daughter he begins to sing the garbled tune louder as he stumbles his way forward. "...drinkin' ssshailor..." closing the distance he leans over the curiously placed bard and yells straight into his face; "EAR'Y IN DA MARNING!" Grinning from ear to ear he squints at the musicians face waiting. After an awkward several seconds Facion looks down at the instrument in the mans hands and gasps. "Yuuu... YOOOUU! Man playssh th' flute?!" pawing at the mans chest he coughs and sputters straight onto the songsmiths shirt.
"Shay! D'ya knew this waaan?!" Not waiting for a reply the man of shadows again screams into his face. "WAT D' YUUU DEW WIT A DRINKIN' SAILOR, WAT DO YA DOOOO WIF A DRANKEN SERLER, WIT DO YAS DDDDDD-...
...WITH A DRUNKSOM SAILER," he pauses only long enough to gasp a deep breath, "EARL-I 'N MORRRRRNNNNNNNIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!" Again smiling he half-collapses onto the man, looking up into the troubadours eyes his own take on a far-away look as his face clouds with a confused look. "Heeeeeey, whys man outta here? The happy's inside!" Ribbing him playfully he gives him a conspiratorial look. "De monies inside tooooo."
Smiling expectantly he waits for a reply.
The wizard makes a small curt nod, and raises his glass in thanks before another sip. He did not expect help from the Thelkonlander, held from home for so long. The advisor remembered the night the lad, scarcely a man, was dragged into Lord Rudianos’ court, bound and roughed by the journey inland to Lehrehn with his captors. The Feraweni recalled shaking in silenced laughter as Lord Rodrik berated them for abducting the wrong son. Time goes too quickly, even for Men with Long Lives. Indeed, perhaps the fates decided him to be the right son, for the wizard felt a small measure of relief to know Tholan intended to remain in these uncertain times ahead.
Thaegrin ponderously sets down his drink. “No matter how we can quantify and categorize magic, it seems to affect each individual differently. For you, it was a natural talent, a gift, some say. I thought it improper to entangle myself between the Rudianos’ and the Sorensons, but with the change in circumstance, perhaps it no longer matters. Tell me, have you ever learned spells through study? If you would like, I might be able to teach you some things, my impatience notwithstanding.”
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Anga shuffles up to the suspicious Bard and blasts
The bard squishes up his face and wipes it with the back of his hand. About to become angry, the man waits to hear the reasoning of the drunk before his eyes.
Smiling, the Bard starts plucking the tune to Drunken Sailor and motions for Anga to enter and finish his rendition.
Tholan nods as he listens to Thaegrin, a wry smile on his face. It breaks into a grin at Thaegrin's final words. "Hah, impatience nothing. I'd sooner break a man's face than sit and study magic the way you do. No offense intended, I'm sure you'd be a far more interesting teacher than most. Sadly, as you say, my magic's a natural talent, not a studied one. I'd certainly be interested in seeing how you craft and weave your magic, but I doubt I'd learn much with any sort of practical application." He took a deep swig of mead, enjoying the flavor and only somewhat successfully stifling an appreciative belch, which still echoed a little in the quiet space. He glanced about apologetically, stifling yet another grin.
Aye, I'll need to find some bar with a little more noise to it, some noise, drink, and fight would do much for me. The thought brought even more cheer to him, and he grinned a broad, laughing grin down into his drink.