After walking the entire day following her angry flight of her traveling party, Aggie had barely slept as her rage screamed and bellowed in every fiber of her being- sometimes so loudly that she began to perspire and her hands would shake. She had also realized near dinnertime of that day, that the likelihood of an animal coming to bother her was much higher without others helping her intimidate wildlife. This thought had resulted in her straying from the road for nearly an hour, in order to acquire a walking stick that was a head shorter than her, thick enough that her fingers barely wrapped around, and made of some hardy wood that gave it some heft-

In other words; a suitable bow staff in a pinch.

When daybreak had pushed the end of Aggie’s restless night, she had cast off her blanket, and resumed her break neck walking speed in the same direction, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach.

Despite the pleasant sunny cool fall morning that descended upon her over the hours of travel, her rage continued to pulse endlessly, wiping out any other emotion the minute it reared its head.

She thought of nothing other than her hatred of people, and how she was going to build herself a hut in the woods, and live there until she inevitably died alone.

Aggie had chosen to go the reverse way the group had been heading, and consciously committed to the left road as opposed to right at one of the forks in the road, recalling that the right road had been the one leading from the Queen’s Keep.

On occasion she heard rustling in the cornfields, or thought she saw a flurry of movement darting around copse of trees, but figured she was being sensitive to wildlife. After all, Arlen would have to have followed her order and buggered off. He wouldn’t have disobeyed her, and if he had, he most likely would’ve been bowing and apologizing in front of her by now.

It was nearing noon, and her ire was still quite palatable, when a carriage pulled by 2 massive steeds appeared on the road ahead.

This didn’t phase Aggie in the least. She was in no mood to cower or hide-, and recklessly thought;

“If they recognize and kill me, I will run to that sodded door in the afterlife, and be done with this world with all of its shite once and for all.”

As the carriage neared, its shiny black exterior with the gold ornate decoration showed it was someone of great wealth and importance.

“With my luck it could be the fucking Southern Prince.” Aggie muttered grimly.

The horses stopped in their tracks, and tossed their manes while whickering at their path being blocked.

The coachman stood up, he wore a gray wool coat with gold buttons, and a ruffled cravat. He looked around Aggie’s age, and even standing where she was, she could see the scarring on his face from pox.

“Peasant, get off the road!” He shouted arrogantly.

Aggie growled.

The horses took a step back, their beastly instincts warning them of the madwoman in front of them. The driver remained devoid of this sense, and frowned at her instead.

“Ask nicely.” Aggie replied glaring.

The lad sighed as he gave a double knock on the carriage behind him.

The carriage door opened, and out stepped 2 men.

Both of them were tall, one had dark hair, the other had sandy hair. Both had broad shoulders with muscled arms, but both were unarmed. They had to be some form of protection for the owner of the coach.

Aggie’s lips curled.

Hitting someone would feel pretty damn good.

“Come you horrid little creature. Off the road.” The dark hair man called as the 2 of them began walking towards her.

“Like I just told the twat coachman; ask nicely.” She demanded glaring.

The 2 men chortled to themselves.

“If we have to move you by force, we will.” The dark haired man spoke again, they were beside her now, and each grabbed onto one of her upper arms.

Faster than they could foresee, Aggie choked up on the walking staff, flipped it into both her hands lengthwise, and pummeled each man in the gut. As they doubled over, Aggie reeled the staff back up into their foreheads, knocking them immediately unconscious.

The driver gasped, and pressed himself back into the carriage.

“My Lord!”

He called as Aggie began walking towards the carriage.

The door opened once again, and out stepped another tall man. He was slender, had white hair down to his shoulders, a short salt and pepper colored beard, and wore a long black coat that made Aggie stop.

He was a Servicer.

“What is the issue out here?” His icy blue eyes swept over Aggie appraisingly, then regarded the 2 unconscious men behind her.

He blurred instantly, and Aggie found herself nose to nose, staring into the cold depths of his gaze as he gripped her by the front of her vest.

Aggie didn’t have time to struggle, when all of a sudden, a sword flashed above his head from behind, and the pommel crashed down knocking him unconscious.

As he crumpled to the ground, Aggie found herself staring at Arlen. His black hair cropped off shorter than it had been before, and his traveling clothes looking disheveled. His face looked incredibly worn, but his dark eyes were ablaze as he stared at Aggie, sword in hand.

“My Lord!” The call of the driver brought Aggie back to the moment, and she turned her head to glare at the driver. She rolled her eyes heavward, then stalked over with Arlen at her side to the side of the carriage.

The door opened for the third time, and a deep velvet blue shoe with a gold buckle stepped out. The owner of the foot appeared- an older man, donning a long curly gray wig, with a bright blue silk patterned vest fastened over his bulging gut, and a black hat with a large white plume rising from it.

Aggie recognized him immediately.

It was Duke O’Sullivan.

“What in the world-” He stopped when he laid eyes on Aggie and Arlen.

He frowned.

She was familiar. He felt like he had seen her somewhere before.

“I’m taking your horses.” Aggie informed him casually.

“Not likely.” The Duke glared. “Elijah! What is it-”

“Elijah is unconscious. Now, I could hit some more people, but if you give me your horses, I’ll be on my way.”

Arlen stayed quiet, but wondered what in the world had made Aggie decide to rob the Duke…

O’Sullivan looked rightfully ruffled as he peered around them and saw the back of his Servicer on the ground, and the 2 other men further back.

“I will see you hang for this.” He blustered, his face growing red.

Aggie swung the limb in her hand, and knocked down the Duke by the legs so that he fell off the carriage step, into a heap on the ground.

“Good luck. I’m really annoying to kill.” She announced as he wheezed at her feet.

A flurry of movement in her peripheral brought Aggie’s attention back to the driver who was attempting to creep up behind her.

She turned swiftly, wielding the end of her walking stick an inch from his face, and he just about started pissing himself.

“Start detaching the horses, or I will break your legs.”

He jumped, and set to unfastening the heavy carriage from the steeds.

The Duke looked up at her, his face red as a beet as he struggled to sit up.

Aggie saved him the hassle, as she crouched down to eye level with him, and once again prodded the end of the staff near his face, making him recoil.

“I’ve heard some pretty awful things about you. I am sure we will meet again soon.” She smiled, and he responded with a sneer.

“Pray that you don’t.” He hissed. “I will find out who you are, and I will see that your family suffers. Your face is already familiar to me, I will find out soon enough.”

“You’ll be lucky if you survive the month.” Aggie replied lazily.

“I have dealings with your Prince first.”

The Duke opened his mouth to say something else, but Aggie swung the limb firmly down ontop his head, and knocked him unconscious.

When the horses had been freed, and the driver squeaked upon seeing his Master sprawled and unmoving on the ground, Aggie turned to him.

“Oyy, your lesson here is; don’t be a prick.” Aggie flicked the shivering fellow between the eyebrows, and watched as he cowered away.

Arlen was already atop one of the massive beasts, and he sidled the horse close to hers to lend her his hand.

The animal was much too large for her to mount on her own, but with his help she managed to get atop.

Without a second glance, they set the horses to a gallop, and rode back the way Aggie had come from.

When the horses tired of the pace, and they had covered a great deal of distance, they slowed.

At long last, Aggie addressed Arlen.

“Have you been following me the whole time?” She asked without looking at him.

“Yes.”

“Did you not hear me tell you to bugger off.”

“I did.”

“Just because you saved me just now, does not mean I forgive you for not telling me the truth.”

“I know.”

Aggie finally stole a glance at him. She hadn’t realized how much he had changed since she had first met him until she had laid eyes on the Duke’s Servicer. Arlen had looked the same back then- the same thin, elegant, politician’s-stooge type. Yet now, his shoulders had broadened, his arms had thickened, and he now resembled the 2 guards Aggie had attacked more than the Servicer.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

“It’s easier to fight.”

“Didn’t feel like going bald?”

“Not this time.”

Aggie shifted uncomfortably on the horses back, she wasn’t as used to riding with 2 legs over the horse, but thanked the heavens that she had been disobedient on occasion as a child, and had tried it multiple times before.

“Might I ask a question Aggie?”

She gave a short nod.

“Why have you chosen to head back?”

At this, a cold smile stretched across her face.

“I honestly forgot about someone I am far more angry with until I saw the Duke. Prophecy or not, there are debts I need to collect. I still have no interest in fulfilling some fucking vision, but I won’t let that come between me and my vengeance.”

Arlen remained silent, but felt his stomach twist in worry.

He was growing more concerned at whom Lady Aggie Beatha was growing to be.

***

“Birgitte! Birgitte!”

She pinched her nose and closed her pale blue eyes as though pained.

“Is this of the utmost importance, Ned?” She managed to say as her weariness grew ten fold.

“We received a message from your husband!”

Birgitte’s eyes flew open.

“Tork? Is he alright? What happened?” She turned around. Though her voice was authoritative, her heart was pounding as ferociously as her pickaxe against stone.

“He says he is coming and will enter down by the Ellenda Wood entrance, but he is… he is bringing people with him.”

Ned glanced around at the numerous faces that gazed at him with raised eyebrows, and grinned nervously before waving awkwardly. He had barged in on an important meeting with the officials regarding their trades with the North Kingdom

“What people?” She demanded noticing out of the corner of her eye the concerned looks for her fellow government leaders.

“Oh cripes! Did he find Arlen?!” Her son, Reggie whom had been permitted in on her meeting so that he could learn about government, stepped forward.

“Who is Arlen?” She turned to her son, as did the other 11 pair of eyes around the table.

Disconcerted by the attention of the small crowd, Reggie looked nervously at his friend Ned whose awkward smile had remained frozen in place.

“Erm… a bounty dad was hunting down when I last heard from him.”

Birgitte stared at stared at her son’s reddening cheeks, and felt her stomach begin to somersault.

“Why is he bringing down a bounty with him, here?”

“Well last I heard it was a bit complicated…”

“Pray tell Reginald, is this the same Arlen the Servicer whom has caused an uproar in the Kingdoms above?” Kirb Thorog, Minister of Foreign Affairs exclaimed his sagging face rife with horror.

The table burst into panicked alarm.

“A Servicer?!”

“Here?!”

“I told you allowing her to remain here while married to that-”

“Gail you finish that thought and I will lodge my pick’ in your eye.” Birgitte’s blue eyes sparked at the Minister of Labourers.

The table went silent again as Birgitte turned to Ned, who, annoyingly enough still had his awkward smile plastered on his face, though his eyes were silently announcing his hesitancy.

“Ned, what exactly did this message say?” She was trying to maintain the thin thread of control she had over the room, while also noticing that Reggie had a thin layer of sweat above his brows.

“Oh, well I have the stone here-” Ned Procured the chunk of deep smooth opaque purple gem from his pocket.

With an aggravated sigh, Birgitte snatched the stone from Ned, and tossed it with a clatter onto the table.

She snapped her fingers thrice, and all of a sudden a single low noted hum filled the air, then faded away.

“Hullo my dearest, I’ve missed you more than present company will allow me to say.”

Birgitte’s cheeks flamed, and she sent a private prayer to the Gods that this was a politically appropriate message.

“We need to meet by the Ellenda Wood entrance. There is much to tell you… I am traveling with 5 people in total, but apparently according to the know-it-all Minkies Queen, the other 2 will be rejoining us shortly. I can explain it all then. Consider this the beginning of greatness, of what type, we will have to see. I love you my beauty. Far and close.”

A small blip ended the message, and all eyes raised to Birgitte whose eyes were wide and her face pale.

He had relayed not just the one message, but several, by saying things only she would know to interpret.

He was saying there was another war upon them, and great change afoot.

Someone had asked her a question, but she hadn’t noticed as her thoughts whirred like hummingbird wings inside her head.

“Mother.” Reggie’s gentle touch on her back snapped her back to reality.

“Why are the Minkies coming down here? Our forefathers told them more than a century ago, we weren’t going to allow anyone in or out that wasn’t one of us!” Minister of Finance Dor Morin demanded evenly.

Birgitte took in a deep steadying breath.

“When was the last time a Minkies traveled or worked with someone that wasn’t their own kind?”

“Since…” Dor froze and his eyes locked with Birgitte. “Since us.”

Birgitte addressed all of them now, resting her fingertips on the table.

“Something is afoot, and I for one, would like to hear it from those my husband brings to find out what.”

“But Birgitte, a Servicer.” Gail Arbs demanded again glancing around at the others.

Birgitte nodded solemnly and cast her eyes down.

“We will exercise the utmost caution. Myself, my son, and only volunteers may come. We must all decide what we wish to be seen when the visitors arrive. I trust my husband has not relayed any pertinent information.”

There was silence, but everyone, including Gail Arbs, nodded. If they hadn’t trusted her husband completely, this wouldn’t be possible for a moment.

“I, Birgitte Sed, Minister of Trade for the Dwarvin people, will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of our kind.”

Everyone grunted their approval, then turned back to the table of maps of mines, tunnels, and an ancient language no one but they could discern.

Birgitte glanced at her son sending him a private message.

She had questions about her husband’s recent activities.

Many of them.