Book 7: Chapter 11 - A New Place (RAW) (Patreon)

Chapter 11 - A New Place

Though they exalt themselves upon wings and make their nests in the heavens, He shall bring judgment and fire. 

- Excerpt from the Lavella Tablets unearthed from the old ruins in the Beacon Mountains.

As we descended toward Meridian, I found myself wondering what the local guards would think of an armored warrior seated atop a monster, followed by two elves, a female warrior, and a Magister.

Fortune, that ever-merry whore, seemed to favor us that day. As it turned out, the guards of Meridian were quite used to strange things arriving at their gates. A Lumashitu or a Lirkud, though rare, was not entirely unheard of. The city possessed several menageries, private collections, Academy enclosures, and noble houses with more money than restraint. Exotic beasts, it seemed, were less an impossibility here and more a question of paperwork.

There was a fee to enter the city upon such an exotic beasts. Then another fee for the Lirkud, then a surtax on Theodore. Then a written acknowledgment that I, of course, would be responsible for any damage caused within the city walls. I signed nothing myself, but Larynda handled the matter with the patience of a girl already far too accustomed to smoothing the edges of my existence. The guards were helpful enough after that, perhaps sensing that officiousness had limits when directed at a man able to wear full Adamantium plate. They pointed us toward an establishment near the docks that could house our creatures, a large inn and stable yard known as The Bowl of Plenty.

Getting there, however, was a different trial entirely.

Meridian was a city of water and stone. We crossed slender bridges of pale masonry, their arches curving over bright canals with an elegance that made me distrust them. More than once I wondered whether they would hold Theodore’s weight. Yet hold they did, marvels of engineering disguised as decoration. Beneath us, gondola-like craft called Serenelles my Identify spell supplied, drifted along the waterways, their polished hulls cutting through the canal water with effortless grace. Boatmen in short jackets guided them with long poles, ferrying finely dressed citizens beneath carved bridges and beside flower-hung balconies.

The people of Meridian stared, of course, but they did so more politely than I was used to experiencing. Faces turned from cafe terraces. Young men and women in uniform robes paused with books tucked beneath their arms. Merchants pretended to inspect their own wares while watching Theodore make his way. Ladies beneath lace parasols leaned together and whispered. A child laughed until his mother dragged him behind her.

Strangely, I noticed more than a few were reading newspapers or this world's equivalent of them, broadsheets I thought had no place in this primitive society. Stopping, I asked politely if I may have a look at one, the gentleman in question deciding instead to just give it to me. The Oracle was what the newspaper was called, and much to the delight of Larynda was full of salacious juicy news about various nobles’ scandalous goings on, lost shipping, and a recently discovered island chain.

Theodore, for his part, behaved with the solemn dignity of a siege engine passing through a ballroom. He was, in short, rather adorable.

Many times, we had to ask locals for directions. They gave them quickly. Very quickly. There was something useful about traveling as an obvious problem. People became most helpful when they sensed trouble emanating from you like heat from a forge.

Eventually, in this manner we reached The Bowl of Plenty.

The inn stood near the docks, large, broad-fronted, and prosperous in the manner of places that had learned to feed and house sailors, merchants, caravan masters, and occasional minor nobles without asking too many questions. Its lower level was built of old gray stone darkened by the sea air, while the upper floors were timbered and painted a warm cream, with green shutters and flower boxes clinging to the windows. A painted sign hung over the entrance, depicting an overflowing wooden bowl piled with fruit, bread, and fish.

Behind the main building stretched a stable yard large enough to be called a small encampment. High walls enclosed it, and beyond them rose several long stable houses, storage sheds, haylofts, and covered pens built for animals larger and stranger than horses. The smell hit first: straw, dung, leather, salt, old hay, wet feathers, and the musky animal stink of creatures that should not have been kept so close to civilization. Somewhere within, something lowed and something else hissed back.

A stable master emerged to greet us, took one look at Theodore, then at Bubbles, then at me, and smiled welcome’s smile. Negotiations for stabling were swift, for such matters are when you have coin enough at hand.

Theodore was given a reinforced stall at the far end of the yard, one with iron-banded posts, a stone floor, and enough room for him to turn. Bubbles was placed in a dry pen, Larynda insisting on spoiling the strange creature. The horses were easier. The elves saw to them with practiced efficiency, removing saddles, checking legs, brushing sweat from their coats, and making sure the animals were fed before they themselves thought of rest.

I saw to Theodore personally.

The great beast lowered his head as I removed his tack. I checked along the length of his body for any small injuries or hurts. There would be none, of course, for my magic had seen to that. Still, he tolerated the inspection with a patience that I chose to interpret as affection.

He was rewarded with vegetables, grain, and a side of raw meat from the inn’s stores. 

Our lodgings were on the second floor of the inn, overlooking both the canal and part of the inn’s courtyard. The rooms were better than I had expected. Not luxurious, precisely, but clean and spacious. The floors were polished dark wood. The beds had thick mattresses and wool blankets that smelled faintly of lavender. A brazier stood in the corner, already lit against the damp sea chill, and the windows opened onto a narrow balcony.

Larynda took one look at the rooms and relaxed in a way I had not seen in a long time. As for the elven sisters, they claimed the adjoining chamber after a brief, silent exchange between them. Larynda, that dutiful girl, arranged for meals to be brought up, hot water to be sent, and for no one to bother us.

Cordelia, however, had decided to excuse herself, citing that she had business with the local notables and ecclesiarchs of the Church. I had no reason to deny her as she had never broken the faith with me. I decided to get a room for her anyway just in case as money these days was barely a factor.

Now, for the first time in a long time, we had walls, food, stabled mounts, and some measure of privacy. Still, I could not help but feel that we had been followed.

***

“You require access to the libraries and repositories of the Academy?” I asked over breakfast the next morning.

“Yes, Gil,” Larynda said between bites of her meal. “The public libraries are extensive, but they do not have some of the rarer texts I require.”

Breakfast at The Bowl of Plenty was better than the road had taught me to expect. Fresh bread, fish fried in butter, soft cheese, eggs, and fruit that had almost certainly been purchased that very morning from one of the markets near the docks.

“Why not pay one of the students or faculty to loan out the books for you? Or even buy one? The people here, I have heard, have learned to make books by the thousands. The same little words repeated and repeated,” Saranea asked lazily. Or perhaps it was Marimae. I had grown better at telling them apart, but not enough to wager money on the matter before my second cup of tea. “Seems easy enough.”

“The things I need to see are restricted,” Larynda insisted. “These are not the type of books people just make copies of. And, getting them out would be difficult.”

“So what do you propose?” I asked, already feeling that this particular side quest, part of the main quest if I was being precise, was going to be an exercise in patience. “I could also simply take the damn things.”

Larynda shot me a vaguely annoyed look. She knew as well as I did that such a thing was not truly an option. Powerful as I was, the Academy held some of the finest magic users on the continent, and between them they might even have more than sufficient means to stop me.

The Angel had been a lesson. The Angel, no matter what my pride might prefer, had been a struggle. If those who walked the path of the Arcane could wield power of a similar magnitude, even I would find myself inconvenienced.

A lower profile would be required here. Our goal was not murder, refreshingly enough, but information. The simpler and sharper option, in this case, would not necessarily be the faster one. Discovering where the necessary information could be found was part of the puzzle, but it was a puzzle in which I had very little interest despite my own stake in the matter.

Larynda coughed, looked down for a moment, then finally gave voice to her proposal. “I could always join the Academy,” she blurted, a small blush touching her pale cheeks.

The elven sisters laughed at once, but a raised hand from me silenced them.

“Go on,” I said.

“I can take the entrance test late. I will be a little behind, but I am fairly sure I can get in.”

I did not know much, but I knew Larynda was gifted. The problem, however, was not the depth of her knowledge. It was the breadth of it.

“And this test,” I added. “It will not simply be an application of the Arcane, will it? History, art, culture, mathematics, among other things. I would hazard a guess.”

“Yes, but that is just memorizing things,” she replied, straightening a little. “And I know my numbers and sums well enough.”

“Oh, do let her, master,” one of the sisters added. “It will be amusing to see how far she gets.”

Larynda shot her a look that could have melted paint from the wall.

“Yes,” I said slowly, ignoring the interruption, “but there is also the matter of your entry and your position. Such institutions are rarely fair often divided into those with means, those with names, those with patrons, against those who must scrape along the bottom with nothing but raw merit.”

For a moment Larynda almost wilted. “But…”

“But if you are to enter, then you might as well enter with privilege. There is no need to crawl through the mud with the rest of them if speed is what we require.”

Across the table, my ward’s eyes lit with unrestrained joy.

“But remember your purpose,” I warned. “We are not here merely so you may have fun. The acquisition of knowledge concerning the elixir comes above all else.”

“I had forgotten that your kind dance with fleeting death all the time,” one of the sisters commented.

“It is part of the human condition,” I answered acerbically.

Perhaps I had grown too used to their little digs.

“We will acquire semi-permanent lodging here,” I continued. “My line of credit from Al-Lazar should extend even this far. I am sure we can find a broker of some sort to locate us a suitable manse. Though I doubt we will be able to use my full title without inviting more attention than is wise, you will not enter such a place appearing without means.”

Larynda leaned forward, hope written plainly across her face despite her attempt to restrain it.

“You will have tutors if needed,” I said. “Books. Clothes. Introductions. Whatever papers can be purchased, forged, borrowed, or bullied into existence. You will have the best that money can buy.”

I smiled then, because it was pleasant, in its own way, to see her happy.

Power, I was coming to realize, was freedom. Not merely the freedom to punish, though that was pleasant enough in its season, but the freedom to be generous as well. To raise someone from the mud just because one wished it.

“And what of us?” Marimae asked, running a hand through the silken white strands of her hair. “What shall we do while the little one plays at being a student?”

“This is a city,” I answered offhandedly. “I am sure you will find diversions enough. Hone your skills. Take your pleasures where you can find them. Try not to leave any bodies where they will inconvenience me.”

Saranea’s smile sharpened. “How generous.”

“You will be given a stipend,” I continued, “contingent upon not causing too much trouble.”

“We will hold you to that,” they said together, almost in perfect unison, their smiles just human enough to make the resemblance unsettling.

“Then it is settled.” I leaned back slightly, already arranging the matter in my thoughts. “Our goals for this week are simple. First, we acquire a permanent base. Bought, not rented. I will not pour what wealth I possess into that endless void merely for the privilege to sleep beneath another man’s roof.”

Larynda looked as if she had half a dozen objections, but for once kept them to herself.

“As for who we are,” I continued, “we are wealthy adventurers who made our fortune in the deep south. That should explain the coin, the beasts, the strange company, and enough of my eccentricities to avoid immediate suspicion. We will have to register with the Guild here, of course, but that should not be overly difficult.”

I paused, considering the one irritating flaw in the plan.

“What may prove troublesome is explaining why I remain only Bronze-ranked.”

The elven sisters exchanged a look.

I smiled. “But like all things, I am sure that will be negotiable. Perhaps a promotion is in order.”