The journey to Rockfell had consisted of far more rigorous training than Aggie could have predicted, and as a result she was beginning to host bitter feelings towards Tork. The Beast Awares had decided that Aggie needed to start learning to fight in the dark, and so she found herself being suddenly woken in the middle of the night, and having to throw a dagger far into the darkness without knowing where the target had been set.

While she was improving slowly, she still had a hard time reasoning out the exercise’s importance when she felt as though her body was about to fall apart with exhaustion.

Despite being pushed further in her limits, Aggie knew she didn’t have it as bad as Arlen. His night training had on one occasion, begun with a blow to the face. Aggie had been quite certain that her Servicer had become unbelievably close to cursing for the first time that night, even though he had managed to fight back and regain his footing.

It didn’t help that Tork seemed to be enjoying it a little too much.

It was with no uncertain gladness, that they saw the nearing of the gates to Rockfell on the morning of their 6th day on the road. It was a warm May day, the sea breeze was inviting, the grass was lush, and the sky was a magnificent shade of blue that Aggie hadn’t seen in what felt like years.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the wondrous day, as everyone else thought about the weather along similar terms. Aggie settled in against her bag of belongings, and stared at Arlen who was stretched out on the other side of the cart as Ora dangled her feet off the back.

The gates to the city appeared ahead of them, their wrought iron gates stood firmly closed to the outsiders, and Arlen was beginning to be able to make out the sight of 2 guards standing on either side of the road. Arlen had craned his neck over the side of the cart to see, but after making his observations, returned to a far more relaxed positon as he leaned back further into a sack of oats.

As he settled in and closed his eyes, he began to reflect on his new life since he and his Lady fled Duke O’Farrell’s keep.

They had found the innkeeper, Declan and his wife Bonnie, where they had met Tork who agreed to take them to the King’s settlement in order to train them. They had battled a monster, met Bertha Brady, received her warning, made it to the King’s settlement, met the North King, and now were journeying to retrieve the crowned North Prince.

Arlen let out a long sigh. Somehow it felt as though much more time had passed than 2 weeks since meeting Lady Beatha. She had completely exceeded his expectations, and thrown him in situations he could never have imagined possible.

In the beginning, he had found it hard feeling inadequate after his entire life consisted of training to be by an individual’s side. He had been placed in lessons surrounding continental and global law, politics, etiquette, poisons, languages, cultures… All to best serve an individual who was meant to rise in power.

Arlen had no idea how the Ruling Family knew who was meant to become powerful figureheads, but he did know where they anticipated the individuals to end up.

Meaning, any Servicer would know if their assigned bondee’s were to meant to be a Duke, a war lord, or a Queen.

Arlen even knew what Aggie was supposed to become.

He had been instructed early on to not oppose her decisions, only support them. Instead of fighting her antics, he was taught to aid her decisions to the absolute best of his abilities. Not all Servicer’s received this instruction. Some were told the opposite; to hinder their master’s decisions and thoughts as much as possible.

He had thought it would be an arduous task-, being a Servicer to a stuffy noblewoman, and yet he had felt ready for it. He had been prepared for political intrigue and to have traditional laws and rules upended.

He had not been prepared for needing to know about physical combat, or disguises, or espionage…

It all had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of foresight the Ruling Family had when selecting his lessons. He felt that many of the obstacles he and his Lady faced could have been alleviated had he been better prepared.

He had gotten over it though.

As soon as he had realized that, even during all of his lessons surrounding a courtier’s life, he’d wanted adventure. He had wanted to break the molds of that defined the world, and be apart of a change. Arlen realized how ridiculous he was being when he realized he had gotten what he had secretly wished for, and wasn’t making the most of it.

In other words; he had gotten what he wanted, he simply had to adapt.

So he had developed, and somehow this embracement of his wild adventure with the unpredictable Lady Beatha, had seemed to spark Aggie’s trust in him as well.

He noticed her deferring to him more, asking him more questions, sharing her fears with him.

It filled him with great relief, and so he started to feel at peace with his new mistress.

Arlen cracked open an eye, and found that Aggie was staring at him. It wasn’t in a scrutinizing way, so much as a quiet wondering way. Her green eyes gently probed his face, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile in return.

She was thinking of something to do with Servicer’s again.

She had yet to ask about his kind after their initial talk regarding the Fey, but knew she would in due time. He didn’t want to dwell on his impatience to share his people with her however, so he decided to distract himself.

Arlen turned his mind to their new plan.

Aggie had confided in him that she suspected the North King had recognized her, and that it was only a matter of time before Sean O’Farrell found out. He could have even been receiving the news that very same sunny day, all the way back at the North King’s castle.

They decided that once they had finished helping Tork locate the crowned Prince, they would part ways with the bounty hunter, perhaps on a merchant boat, and set sail down South. They had broken down their gold coins back in the King’s settlement, and were confident they could find a safe vessel without too many prying eyes.

They hadn’t told Tork or Ora yet, and they debated not saying a word to keep them as safe from information as possible. However, Aggie felt that it was wrong to distrust them at this point when they had done more than they could ever ask by not revealing them to the North King.

They already knew all Tork had to say was that he had no idea who they truly were, and they would be safe.

Arlen sighed. The cart was gently jostling through the soft grass, and the sun was warming his face pleasantly.

If he were a normal man, he would’ve been asleep. As a Servicer, he could not leave his mistress unguarded while she was awake.

So he continued his musings and planning, now wondering what their new disguises would be for when they boarded the boat.

“State your name and business!” A sharp voice barked suddenly, breaking the peace Arlen had been so thoroughly enjoying.

“I’m Tork, this is Ora, in the back are Bets and Beads.” Tork gestured using his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you want the beast’s name?” He asked cheekily. The guard was not amused. Quib yawned from behind Tork without a care in the world.

“What is your business here ‘Tork’.”

“I’m visiting an old friend of mine.”

“Name?”

“How is that your business?” Tork’s friendly tone had dropped to a lower register, and Arlen cracked open an eye as he sensed some trouble brewing.

“We would like to know where to go in the event we have to question you later.”

“He lives in the Brewers neighborhood.”

Arlen heard the guard make a sound of disbelief, but assumed he stood aside as the cart began to move again. The sound of hoofs on cobbled stone broke the last of the serene rest Arlen had been taking, and so he sat up, and looked at the city of Rockfell for the first time.

While it was nowhere near as beautiful as the King’s settlement, it still held a charm in its gray stone buildings, with their wooden shutters, and red clay tiled roofs.

There weren’t as many people wandering the streets, and the ones who were, appeared to be mainly human blooded. A few pinched faced women who walked by, gave Tork hostile stares before they bustled along their way. The entire city appeared to be built on a slope down towards the ocean level, where each street that branched off from the direct road they were on, acted as a shelf that could look over the rooftops of the homes on the next parallel street.

“Are we actually staying with a friend of yours?” Aggie asked quietly as she stepped over the driver’s bench in the cart, and seated herself beside Tork.

“We are. He was one of the first people I trained back before my time in the military.” Tork replied absentmindedly as he began easing the 2 Clydesdale horses down the sloping road more and more slowly.

“How long were you in the military for?” Aggie asked idly as they passed by an elderly woman with a rust colored shawl tied around her shoulders hanging her wet laundry on a rope across he tiny yard.

“Learned to fight before the War of Kinds, and was one of the first who joined Aidan O’Malley, our King, when he began gathering forces.”

“Then you would’ve met Sean O’Farrell!” Aggie was stunned. Everyone had heard whom Sean O’Farrell was, but the thought that Tork actually knew the man…

“I met him a handful of times, yes. Sean was a major political figurehead even back then, so he kept to the North, and I was sent to the South- Woah there.” Tork tugged on the reigns as he felt the uncertainty in their steeds, and so he veered them to the right down a side street they had just happened upon.

“What was he like when you met him?” Aggie didn’t know why she was so curious about the man she had fled from, but something about Tork knowing him seemed odd to her.

“He was vastly different every time I met him. The first time I met him he seemed… eager and young. Second time, he seemed determined. Third time, angry. Fourth time, broken. Fifth and last time, cold as ice.” Tork shook his head. “War changes people in ways you can’t imagine Beatha. You never know what it will do to you.”

Aggie was silent for a while as she considered the weight of Tork’s words, ignoring the gradual increase in the size of the homes they passed by as she did so.

“Tork?” She asked after a moment of deep thought.

“Yes Beatha?”

“You’re old, aren’t you?”

A loud ‘TOOT’ from behind Aggie meant Ora had just found what she said incredibly amusing, as the Beast Awares was doubled over laughing silently, until tears began falling down her face.

Aggie stared at Tork bewildered as he clenched his jaw.

“Of all the… of everything I said to you just now, that’s what you take away from this conversation?”

“I just want to know if I should be surprised or not if you start needing wooden teeth….” She was teasing him, but Tork only scowled more deeply as Ora continued to ‘Toot’ away in the back. Arlen was pretending that he hadn’t heard the conversation, and Quib was staring with his head tilted curiously towards Ora.

“I meant to ask you earlier by the way… Was Ora sick recently?”

“No.” Tork answered shortly, clearly trying not to snap at Aggie after insulting his age.

“What was the North King talking about then when he-”

“Enough.” Tork’s voice was black. Aggie had never heard a more clear threat from him ever before, and she immediately noticed that Ora’s laugh was over as quick as a breath.

It was a few long moments of silence, before Ora gently touched her hand to Tork’s shoulder. He glanced back briefly at his friend to see her patting her chest and pointing to Aggie.

“I don’t want to.” He answered shortly, despite Ora’s big black eyes glistening. She gripped his shoulder harder, and let out a high-pitched sniffle.

Arlen was now drawing closer to the conversation. He had been wondering many things about Ora for a while now.

Tork sighed, his hands gripped the reigns harder as he glanced around the oddly deserted street.

“Ora was tortured and captured by the Duke of the Southern Kingdom. She had been abducted, and caged for half of the war, and I was the one who found her. She was locked in a cage that was too small for her to stand up properly in, and wasn’t provided any separate room or space for sleep and… relieving herself. When I found her, we had to shave off her fur, and she was unable to get out of bed for weeks.”

Aggie turned and stared at Ora, who was pressing her hands in balled fists to her chest as tears began rolling down her small trunk. Arlen wrapped a comforting arm around her, and she leaned her large furry head to his shoulder, and continued to weep quietly.

Tork clearly didn’t care to elaborate, and Aggie knew to leave the topic alone. So instead, they rode the rest of the way to Tork’s friend’s house, in silence.

*

“Tork you old bastard! You forget my birthday for the last 10 years, and only now show up on my doorstep!” A small pasty white man, with wispy white hair growing out of the sides of his head stood on the doorstep of a mansion, wearing a velour robe of a deep green, and black tunic and trousers.

He had an abnormally wide head and smile, with large puffy lips, and golden eyes. Aggie didn’t have to wonder whether or not he had any Beast Awares.

“Gus, it’s wonderful to see you.” Tork was obviously still affected by having to relay Ora’s history, as he stopped the horses and cart, and stepped down to greet his friendly sternly.

Gus didn’t seem to mind however, as he reached his frail arms up, and gave Tork a hug.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“Guards came door to door of everyone in the Brewers, asking who was expecting company. They described a very angry Beast Awares, and someone with purple fur, so it really wasn’t too hard to guess.” Gus let out a quick bellow of a laugh, which seemed oddly low for a man of his small stature.

“However, I don’t believe I knew you had new trainees with you!” He turned his eyes to Aggie and Arlen, who were hanging around the cart not wanting to intrude on Tork’s reunion.

“These here are a couple of Minkies. I knew their ma, and I’m just letting them try out a different way of living for a bit.”

Aggie was surprised at first when she heard Tork use their disguises to his friend, but the surprise was quickly replaced with concern.

Something wasn’t right.

Tork was telling them to stay hidden, and so Aggie dropped her gaze hastily.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it was going to be possible to make a clean escape after all.

***

“Rockfell?!” Sean O’Farrell stared at his King with wild eyes. His gauntleted fist was clenched on the round table that was in the King’s chambers, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye the King’s Servicer, Ekon, smoothly place his hand on the hilt of his dagger in a subtle threat.

Sean took a deep breath as the King watched interestedly from across the table.

“Aye. That’s what I said. They’ll be back in a month or so Sean, I wouldn’t worry.”

Sean stood up with such force, that the chair he had been seated on let out a dreadful scrape that rang in the room.

“You seem pretty cavalier about a woman committing treason.” He said coolly as the King let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“How is she committing treason for not wanting to marry you, hmm? I didn’t order her to wed you.” Aidan O’Malley was leaned back in his chair, his hands crossed on his lap as his elbows rested on his armrests.

“Her parents and I made an agreement that-”

“I’m sure you can understand a child not seeing eye to eye with their parents, Sean.” The North King’s gaze was sharp, making Sean turn to face him head on.

“You know exactly why this marriage needs to happen.”

“There are others.” The King waved his hand before reaching for the jug of wine in the middle of the table.

“You don’t seem as terrified as you used to be.” Sean was watching the King pour the wine into the goblets that had been placed in front of them, and saw his ruler’s arm slowly place the jug down heavily.

“I grow doubtful that he still exists, yes.”

Sean reached into his leather pouch, and stepped towards the table. The King continued to calmly watch, as a stone no larger than a pebble with swirling white mists, was placed in front of him.

“Care to explain then how I found this in my household the very week my betrothal to Agnes Beatha was announced?”

The North King’s face paled, and as he stared at the pebble in front of him, slowly rose from his seat.

“Your majesty, you know what this means.” Sean’s voice didn’t goad the King, despite him being scoffed at moments before. Instead, he hoped that the message was clear.

“The Thief of Souls is alive.”