S01E17 - The purpose of truth

17th Day of the Bull

*****

When we finished with Walter, it was mid afternoon and the heavy drizzle had stopped. Patches of blue sky could be seen to the north and the temperature had dropped to the point it could be considered uncomfortably chilly.

We made a stop at the Royal Treasury located under the palace where, subject to much consternation, I was allowed to withdraw my salary in full. I had learned in my negotiations with Walter that there was no such thing as fiat currency, a central bank, insured deposits, or financial advisors. It was a Rothbardian wet dream, which meant that the economy in this world would never be stable as long as it relied on hard currency to lubricate the wheels of capitalism. Without the ability to control the value of currency, people would tend towards hoarding their cash and prevent it from circulating through the economy to stimulate jobs, business, and commerce.

Not my problem.

It turns out that fifteen thousand gold nobles weighs nearly 90 kilos, or literally my current weight in gold. I withdrew the majority in gold Royals, which were about the size of a half-dollar along with several pouches of quarter-sized gold and silver Nobles, the most common form of currency. A dozen leather pouches full of gold, silver, and copper were presented and promptly vanished into my chest.

Brice insisted on sword practice, so we headed to a training area where I donned used and heavily padded leathers. I spent an hour bashing shields and learning footwork with him and Colin before Ryllae joined us and gave me instruction on the use of my trenchent. They rotated out while pushing me to my physical limits with occasional breaks for teaching.

It turns out that using a trenchent is not any different than using a glaive. While it could be used to hook and pull an opponent from a horse, it was mainly a support weapon intended to be used from behind a swordsman. The blade itself was made for thrusting and slashing, but was not as effective as a sword against heavier plate. My longer reach and heroic reaction time might allow me to incapacitate a lightly armoured opponent, but the overall idea was for me to provide support from behind Brice and Colin. The spike on the butt was made specifically to pierce armour, if I had the opportunity to bring it into play.

The weapon was also utterly lethal in the hands of an experienced user, with Ryllae holding off Brice and Collin using both sword and shield. She would dance lightly with her dress whirling high above her thighs, shifting and twirling, slapping their swords and slipping over, under, and around their shields. I wondered how she would fair against Samuel and his staff.

"The Loia wood is still living in a sense," she said, handing me back the trenchent at the end of our training session. "It will not break, but will yield. Cuts and gouges will heal over time. It can also change length and shape slightly if you desire."

I concentrated and felt the wood shift under my hand, slowly lengthening and assuming a more teardrop shape. In a few minutes it had increased noticeably in length. A few minutes more and it was over 220cm from tip to tip. The ability was absolutely no use in the middle of a fight, but with enough prep time it could go from an anti-calvary weapon to one more suitable for use in close quarters.

"That's useful," I said, reducing the weapon down to a more manageable size for the palace corridors.

"You will find gloves useful too," She said. "If you wish to keep your fingers attached."

I nodded, regarding the worn leather gloves I returned to the training locker. A real sword could be turned in a flash and slice my unprotected fingers right off.

I was physically exhausted and felt only slightly more competent after our impromptu training session, a feeling rather like after studying a foreign language. I knew some words and phrases and could convey the important things like "Two beers please" and "Are you married?" and "Give me three steps towards the door". Things were coming together in my head, feelings, impressions, a sense of intuition of how to do things, but nothing concrete.

With the sun setting and the temperature dropping, Colin promised to fetch us in the morning and left with Brice. Ryllae and I returned to my suite where I summoned the trunk for the third time today, which meant that once I dismissed it I would be unable to resummon it until after midnight.

"Where did you acquire so much gold?" Ryllae asked, shifting the pouches I had tossed carelessly into the trunk.

"I forced the royal steward into paying me for my services," I said. "For some reason, everyone seems to think that I should work for free."

She thought about it for a moment, removing fresh undergarments from the trunk. "Why do you care?" she said. "Once you defeat the demon queen you will return to your world."

"It's the principle of the matter," I said. "A person shouldn't be expected to work for free, especially if some wealthy noble is asking. It irritates me on a fundamental level."

"Your daughter and her friends seem to have no issues." She said. "They are eager to assist with saving this world."

"This is not a normal summoning," I sighed. "If we are killed we don't go back to our world and in fact, from what I recognised of the summoning, we may actually have to return to the circle itself before we are returned home. This isn't a simple case of kill the bad guy and reappear back home, there's a good chance that we're going to have to fight our way there, kill the bad guy, fight our way back here, and step in the summoning circle before the return magic activates. I'm worried about everyone's safety."

"I was not aware of this," Ryllae said, gathering her things and standing. "Does your daughter and her friends know?"

I massaged my temples to relieve the headache this conversation was causing. "Yes," I said. "They are aware of the risks."

"And they fight anyway, despite facing certain death," she said. "They are very brave."

I wasn't sure if I had been insulted or not. I wasn't a coward, was I? I didn't feel like a coward. I was afraid of Tracy getting hurt, and that's why I was so cautious. I examined my feelings, picking away at the jumble of thoughts that slipped around my head like a nest of snakes. The more I dug, the more my head hurt trying to make sense of why I was feeling and acting the way I was.

Everyone was summoned to fight the forces of evil, and that's just the way things were. It had been happening on Earth for centuries. We had been summoned here to defeat the Demon queen. We couldn't return home until that geas was lifted. The best thing to do was just get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. This is what I wanted my entire life.

Wasn't it?

"I am going to have a hot bath," Ryllae said, stripping down to her chemise. She gave me a mysterious look before walking away.

I was pretty sure the look was an invitation to join her.

I gathered up her discarded clothing in my arms, and with a furtive glance around, buried my face into the pile. Inhaling deeply, I lost myself for a moment in the sweaty, flowery scent that was uniquely Ryllae.

Triggering a cleansing cantrip, I shivered as the magic washed over me, lifting and removing grime, making it vanish to wherever it goes. Folding Ryllae's now clean clothing and placing it on top of my chest, I stripped down to my small clothes and blew out a heavy sigh.

How the hell did I get into this?

The more I thought about everything, the more tangled and confusing it became. How do I protect my daughter and her friends? How do I ensure we all get safely back home? Am I even supposed to be here? What about Erickson's Theory of Certitude? Have I derailed ordained events with my interference? Has my lack of faith in the outcome of events injected chaos? Is our destiny really assured if we just follow events?

I walked over to the bed and sat down, rubbing my aching head with fingers stiff from gripping the trenchent all afternoon.

And what do I do about Ryllae? I find her attractive and capable, and there's no denying my interest in the exotic otherness of her culture, but she's obviously got her own motives in all of this. Why the hell did it make so much sense to agree to her ...suggestion? demand? for a child? I could get training with Brice and Colin. Hell, I'm a wizard class and have no business swinging a weapon anyway. Even if I was a full-on War Wizard with a suit of mithril it would be a liability by amplifying other magics directed at me.

My head pounded under the pressure of these thoughts, of the stress and worry at the upcoming events. Laying back on the soft pillows, I focused on relaxation exercises, clenching and relaxing my feet, calves, thighs. I focused on my breathing, releasing the tension from my chest and back, arms and shoulders.

Sleep crept up like an assassin and I was plunged into the realm of dreams.

*****

Some time later I awoke to discover the lights were out and the room was thick with shadows. The faint orange glow from the fireplace shifted as it chinked and clinked, slowly eating the last of its fuel. Ryllae was curled next to me, one alabaster arm tossed possessively across my chest. I ducked my head into the wreath of dark curls that crowned her head and took in her scent, allowing myself this moment to just exist and accept things as they were.

No judgements. No expectations.

The thick curls of her hair tickled my face as she shifted her head to peer at me in the gloom. Her lips brushed against mine quickly, like a frightened bird, then she lay her head against my chest.

"What are your thoughts, Samuel," she whispered, her voice loud in the shadows that surrounded us.

"I think I'm having an existential crisis," I whispered back, settling into the pillow. "I'm suddenly uncertain of everything I do and my place in the world. I'm questioning my actions, wondering at my motivations, and trying to understand how I've ended up here."

Ryllae was silent for a long while and I wondered if she had drifted back to sleep.

"You say 'I' a lot," she said, her chin moving against my chest with each word. "As if you are the centre of the world and in control of everything that occurs around you and to you. We cannot control the world or the actions of others, all we can control is how we react to those events. "

I stroked her hair as I weighed those words, pushing beneath the curls to trace my finger around a delicate ear. "That doesn't sound very comforting," I said.

"The truth merely is. It exists for no other purpose than to guide us along our path," she whispered.

I lay there listening to the coals clink and click as they shifted in their bed, watching the shadows dance on the walls until sleep claimed me again.

*****

Author's Note: Everyone is dying. Again. My stepfather died last month. My friend's grandfather died last week. Another friend lost his wife a few days ago. This is the season of death and my calendar is filled with anniversaries of funerals I've attended.

Make time to tell people you love them and how much they mean to you.

I hate this episode. Let's move on. Season finale in six episodes and onto Season Two.

Completion date: 14DEC2019

https://twitter.com/GrinWry