Chapter 14

“You’re a long way from home, officer.”

A clerk with salt-and-pepper hair sent a pointed look at Nemel’s insignia – the outdated badge of the long-dissolved Eighth Legion. She offered the man a tired smile from across the office counter.

“I think I’ve been to half of the Empire in the last few weeks,” she said. “Being a loose end means they can send us to do anything they want, I guess. I really like your garrison, though – it seems nice and quiet.”

“Nice and forgotten, more like,” the officer said. “Far Sound’s where they send people if they want to keep them away from anything worth anything. You get to live out the rest of your career nice and quiet – your rank coming in is your rank for life.”

“It’s a naval station, isn’t it?” Nemel frowned, “Plus there should be a lot to do out here on the border.”

“That’s what they all think,” the man snorted through his bristly moustache, “but nothing happens. We get local traffic using the harbour in the summer, but ships goin’ to and from the City State Alliance don’t stop here. Everything past this point is mountain: there’s no expansion and no opportunity – just a place with a buncha bitter, washed-up would-have-beens who crossed the wrong people.”

Things probably weren’t as bleak as the officer made them out to be, but she knew his type after being to so many places. Every station had a few people who were content to sit behind a desk, collect their pay, and make a pastime out of complaining to anyone who would listen to them. She didn’t enjoy the feeling of being dragged down by their morose outlook.

Nemel reached into her satchel to place a large envelope on the table.

“Please send this out with the next courier,” she said, then furrowed her brow. “There is a courier serving here, right?”

“Mail goes out with the patrols,” the officer slid the envelope towards himself. “Reaches Elenel, eventually. You in some sort of hurry?”

“No, that’s just fine. Thank you very much.”

She dipped her head politely before turning to leave the garrison office. A gust of wind met her as she stepped onto the street, tossing locks of pale blonde hair across her face. Nemel brushed them aside as she took inventory of the remote port.

Far Sound was something like a small town, but unlike the other frontier towns of the Empire, it seemed about as forgotten as the officer suggested. Its main street of barely-maintained cobblestone ran along the waterfront, sparsely lit by magical torches. The harbour could service four cargo ships at most and two of its berths were occupied by military cogs that looked as old as the settlement’s buildings.

This place doesn’t even have an aviary…

A frontier garrison without an aviary either meant that the Imperial Army didn’t deem it a security risk or the place wasn’t economically significant enough to merit the presence of the Imperial Air Service. It was an old, sleepy town at the end of an inlet sheltered by high cliffs, but Nemel felt that places like this still held a special charm that couldn’t be found anywhere else.

Though they had parted ways with the rest of the caravan that they had built up over the weeks, the arrival of Zu Chiru’s wagons – the other Merchants opted to head south from Elenel rather than follow them to the remote settlement – still brought out what the area had to offer. While Far Sound might have been a dead end for a military career, the civilian sectors had plenty of life to them. In addition to the local agriculture, there was lumber, limited mining and plenty of products derived from the nearby wilderness. It was ultimately still a town, however, so staying for more than a day or two would have trading opportunities running dry.

Since things weren’t overly busy, Nemel took the opportunity to update her latest batch of reports and send them to General Ray. They weren’t much, but she had eventually decided to provide him with some sense of her doing what she had been sent for. Copies of Nemel’s customs reports, intelligence on the other factions’ agents, payments rendered for her services and other odds and ends were included. Knowing how most imperial subjects acted, her regular reports would be seen as a giant puzzle to piece together and used to provide insight into whatever the General had conjured up in his head.

She didn’t report anything that seemed important to Dame Verilyn and Lady Zahradnik, of course. This included how the Baroness had scooped up all of the agents in Norford and sent them back to their houses to prepare for negotiations in the Sorcerous Kingdom. One could only wonder what General Ray would think about an Empire’s worth of factional agents inexplicably vanishing in a day.

Nemel rearranged her mantle and drew its hood over her head as another gust of wind swept over the street. She picked up her pace, making her way past the town’s small temple as she headed to the single merchant inn. A guilty glance was cast towards the temple: when was the last time she had attended a service or offered alms?

For that matter, did the Sorcerous Kingdom even have temples? If so, did Demihumans attend temple services? The Undead? Would it even be a temple at that point?

Her free time over the past few weeks had been filled with endless reading and planning and discussion as they tried to figure out how Dame Verilyn’s land could be developed and its people managed. Everyone enjoyed that part, at least: the path that lay ahead of them was like an exciting adventure for Nobles.

For some strange reason, they assumed that the Temples would be there too. If they weren’t, they would readily send people…except the Faith of the Four openly opposed the Undead. How would they provide for the needs of the people that the Temples usually covered?

Upon entering the inn, she glanced around the tavern for familiar faces. Finding none of the caravan members, she went up to their humble suite, which was similarly empty.

Was everyone still at the stand? No, it was nearly midnight. Dame Verilyn had already gone off to the nearest Adventurer Guild to find some jobs to do, but everyone else should have been finding down for bed or already sound asleep.

She went to the window and pulled aside the curtains. The streets were empty and there didn’t appear to be any events that would have drawn them outside. Puzzled, she cast a Message spell.

『Fendro–』

『Nemel! Thank the gods…』

『Where are you?』

『…in a bag.』

『Hah?』

『In a bag! It’s cramped and I keep bouncing around so I can’t cast anything. Some people showed up while you were away, stuffed me in a bag and carried me off!』

Nemel closed the curtains and backed away from the window, peering cautiously about the room. There was no sign of any sort of struggle. Was there someone else waiting to get her too? She cautiously bent forward to look under the beds, but there wasn’t anyone lurking below.

『A-are you alright? What about everyone else?』

『I’m okay. This bag is itchy though. I think they tore my skirt, too. I’m being taken somewhere but I can’t see anything.』

『Did they say anything before they took you away?』

『Nothing at all! These men in black outfits with black hoods and black masks showed up and the next thing I knew I was in a bag. They literally came out of nowhere!』

『Why would they just take you away without saying anything? No one’s been doing anything strange, have they?』

『Not that I know of. The only one who might have people after her would be Ida, but that’s because of her parents’ thing…oh gods, do you think we’ve been taken away by slavers? Karnassus is on the other side of the wilderness!』

Did that sort of thing happen? It would take normal people over a month to trudge through the mountainous wilderness between the Empire and the City State Alliance. Nemel hadn’t heard of anything like this happening…or maybe no one knew that it happened, considering how their entire group had vanished without a trace.

『I need to contact Dame Verilyn…are you still wearing the same thing from the stand?』

『Yes, and it’s cold. And bumpy. I think I’m going to be sick.』

Nemel ended the Message spell, pacing around the room in a panic until she finally sat down at the suite’s single dining table. There, she found a neatly folded sheet of paper that she had assumed was someone’s loose paperwork. She stared at it for several moments before carefully picking it up. Another piece of paper fell out.

If you want to see your husband ever again, come to the place marked on the map. Alone.

They were after Dame Verilyn? What was going on?

A crude map was drawn on the larger sheet of paper, indicating a location over fifty kilometres southeast of Far Sound. Did they account for the time Dame Verilyn would be away doing Adventurer commissions? It was well beyond the border of the Empire, so maybe there was some sort of carefully-prepared trap or area that the kidnappers controlled there. They would need all the advantages they could get if they planned on fighting an Adamantite Adventurer…or at least they probably thought she was ‘just’ an Adamantite Adventurer.

How would Dame Verilyn take the news? Despite the legends that described a Dragon’s poor temperament and calamitous wrath, Nemel had never seen her liege roused to anger. If anything, she was generally nice and calm and Nemel never felt that she was ever in mortal danger around her. Taking a deep breath, she cast another Message spell.

『Dame Verilyn.』

『Hiiiieeee!!!!』

『Hiiiieeee?』

『Who came up with this absurd spell? Do you understand how awful it is to have someone suddenly talk in your head like that?』

『Sorry. No, wait – this is awful, Dame Verilyn! Someone stole Zu Chiru!』

『No one owns Zu Chiru – how can he be stolen?』

『I, uh…they took everyone. Fendros and the others too.』

『What! They stole my minions?!』

『They left a note and a map to them. Where are you?』

『I was about to murder this Roc but now I’m on my way back to Far Sound. I’ll be there in less than an hour. Where did the map say they would be?』

『Southeast of the town. Outside of the Empire up in the mountains somewhere.』

『Oh, good. That means I can do anything I want to them.』

The Message ended, leaving Nemel divided over Dame Verilyn’s parting words. She sat staring at the note, troubled by what had happened and what the result might be.

Kidnapping innocent people was despicable, but Dame Verilyn also casually talked about how she would kill people for messing with her minions. To be certain, if they were after Dame Verilyn’s life it was fine for her to defend herself. Carrying out a sentence to punish people for the harm they brought upon others was also just.

But in a lawless land, who decided what was just and fair? What measures were employed? Where were the lines between justice, vengeance, and cruel indulgence?

Aside from the border that it had with the Sorcerous Kingdom, the frontiers of the Baharuth Empire were at the edge of a vast, unclaimed wilderness. If she understood it correctly, most of the world was like that. Nations and their laws only existed as far as each nation could project de facto power. Everything else was an expanse of city-states, tribal territories or terrain filled with monsters and unlivable hazards.

If considered along those lines, overarching rule of law was a precious thing that was afforded to the lucky few who lived in places that had the will and power to uphold it. Rule of the strong was the order of the day everywhere else. Still, it shouldn’t be a line on a map or the power to do whatever one wanted that determined what they did.

Nemel’s father always said that the spirit of a nation dwelled not in its lands and buildings, but the hearts of its people. It was an idea that had been passed down through House Gran from some unknown time beyond anyone’s memory. No matter where one was, their words and actions could bring honour or disgrace to the place that they called home. The character of a nation ultimately dictated its policies and the effect that it had on the world.

Over the past few weeks, what Dame Verilyn had brought to light about the Empire had Nemel decide that it was not a place she could truly be proud of. Her interactions with Lady Zahradnik, however, offered a glimmer of hope that the Sorcerous Kingdom could be. While she probably couldn’t directly compel Dame Verilyn to do anything, hopefully her work would help nudge the Frost Dragon in a good direction.

The wait for her liege seemed to stretch on far longer than the time she had estimated for her arrival. After checking to see who had not been taken away, Nemel contacted each of the abducted members of their party, trying to reassure them that everything would be alright. So far, nothing else had happened to them, but anxiety plagued her nonetheless.

When Dame Verilyn finally swept into the room, she went straight to the map on the table and picked it up. A second later, she looked over at Nemel.

“Let’s go,” her liege said.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Nemel asked.

“No,” Dame Verilyn answered, “but I will. Did the others say anything about how they were stolen?”

“Fendros said something about them coming out of nowhere.”

“Good,” Dame Verilyn smiled.

Nemel frowned at her smile.

“Good?”

“Yes, good,” Dame Verilyn said. “It means that our culprits are Rogues or something along those lines.”

“How can you tell?”

“You can tell stealthy types apart by the evidence that they leave behind,” Dame Verilyn told her. “They’ve left their scent and the other traces that they created are also plain to see. Rogues, Bards and Monks have incomplete concealment: they move unseen, dampen the sounds that they make and employ misdirection and disguises. They do not have special abilities to mask scents; neither do they have trackless steps like hunter types.”

There were neither tracks nor scents for Nemel to detect, despite being in the room for an hour. The abilities that Dame Verilyn had mentioned, however, were something that she had come to be aware of after working with the Imperial Army.

“But you’re a Bard,” she said. “Isn’t tracking something that Rangers do?”

“It is something that hunters do,” Dame Verilyn told her. “I’ve mentioned this before, yes? Frost Dragons are hunters: the greatest hunters in all of Dragonkind. These minion thieves will not escape me.”