Redven rode to Amerossa in a somewhat confused state of mind, he was frustrated that Morhiem continued to badger him about coming to the city, but was conflicted by the request. He could very well ignore the invitation or send a letter in response, but he wasn’t willing to risk losing him as a friend over being a little rude. Morhiem had shown, on several occasions, a rage that seemed to erupt from his otherwise relaxed attitude. Something he had never seen, but had heard of more than once. Being so used to getting his way, particularly now, Redven worried that should he upset him, he might lose an old friend. But his family was more important to him than any friend, and he would have to be somewhat austere if he was to get his point across once and for all.

Redven did not stay at The Leaky Boot that night, opting to get as much rest as possible so that he could return home once the meeting was over. He chose a quieter inn located near in the Middle Ring. The outside of the inn was decorated with white walls and green cast iron vines than adorned the doorway and around the windows, with actual vines climbing up the walls from the garden below. He couldn’t understand the writing on the sign as it was too ornate and fancified, which probably impressed a lot of the nobles, he though. It was very quaint and well kept, there were a few patrons drinking and eating inside and a performer singing and playing a harp on the stage. They played a lullaby that is often sung to children, but most parents only sing them the first and second verses. He walked in on the fifth verse, where the story would take a turn for the worse. He paid the barman for some bread, water and a room for the night, opting to leave his horse at the eastern gate stables. The stable boy there recognised Redven from a stable fire that he was rescued from, Redven managed to give the boy some brief care before rushing back into the fire to save his best friend. So naturally, he took the opportunity to pay him back when and where he could.

Sleep came slowly for Redven, the lyrics to the Crying Men still running through his mind. He’d not heard the song in some time and didn’t feel it was the kind of song he wanted his son to have in his head. The lullaby is less of a soothing tale to lull children to sleep, but more of a warning to children who would misbehave. Should they disobey their parents and teachers, the Crying Men will get them. Redven prefered to think that his son could be reasoned with by his parents, rather than threatened. After all, threats often had the opposite effect on Redven. The song itself, though rarely played on a midsummer afternoon, was one that required some skill both in playing the music and telling the story through song.

Redven arrived in the garden earlier than he’d been requested, but he didn’t want to look through any of the stores or see any of the street performers, so he opted to sit in the garden and think. For somebody who preferred to take action, Redven found himself thinking a lot. This was probably for the best, he thought. The table and chairs were no longer under the tree where they met last, the grass looked as though the furniture had never been there. As Redven examined the tree, he heard footsteps behind him as they trampled along the grass. They sounded swift and deliberate, perfectly timed with an accurate length of stride. He was being approached by someone in the military, who had received a lot of training and was very disciplined.

Redven turned to meet whomever would approach him, finding the slim build of what appeared to be a woman in the royal colours of red and black, but the uniform was unfamiliar to him. It was tight leather with a heavily pocketed belt as well as two bandolier that held several daggers and other assorted pockets, some for carrying potions and others for maps and so on. As she came closer, her footsteps became silent and yet her movement looked the same. To walk to deliberately and make no sound, a very dangerous woman, thought Redven.

“Redven, good to see you,” said the woman, her voice sounded familiar but not quite.

“You know who I am, but I don’t know your name.”

“You’ve forgotten me already? Must be all that time in the sun,” she said with a smirk, her teeth were white and her smile brought joy to Redven’s heart as he was hit by a sudden realisation.

“Nala! You’ve aged!” he said with a glint in his eye, followed by a toothy grin.

“And you’re as rude as ever!” she said, punching him in the arm as she laughed.

Redven embraced Nala as old friends do, but she squeezed him long and tight.

“Everybody has missed you… even me” she said, looking down at her shoes as she trailed off at the end.

“I’ve come to take you to Chief Morhiem, he is too busy to bring you flowers today, so you’ll have to come to him” Nala said, continuing to make fun.

Nala lead him through the garden to the western entrance to the palace, asking questions about his life and pestering him to take the job and move back to Amerossa. She was the same girl he knew when he was in the army, but somehow she had grown up. Not just in the natural sense, a girl becoming a woman, but she was mature despite her playfulness. Her eyes and smile hadn’t changed a single bit, but the scrawny tomboy that Redven knew was no longer scrawny or a tomboy. Despite the outfit, Nala looked like she could very well be a different person. Her high cheekbones and large blue eyes were made all the more beautiful by her soft glowing skin, several light freckles scattered under her eyes. Her short cut hair was a deep brown that shined when the sunlight managed to find it under her cowl.

“So, what do you do around here now that you’re older? You don’t look like a page anymore,” said Redven, somewhat confused about seeing Nala.

“I work for Chief Morhiem, bringing women to his chamber, first time I’ve had to bring a man. But, we all knew he liked you more than others”

“Are you going to tease me all day?” said Redven, not quite in the same mood as Nala.

“Oh lighten up,” said Nala, “maybe after Morhiem has his way with you, you’ll be better company. Where are you staying?”

“Hmmm. I couldn’t read the name, stupid writing. It’s green and white, near the balancing man.”

“Ah, I know the place. Well here we are, I’ll come visit you later. Have fun. Make sure he wets his fingers first,” Nala said with a smile from ear to ear, noticing that she was the only one that found her jokes funny.

The guards that accompanied Morhiem to their last meeting stood outside his door. They both looked at Redven as they braced up, somehow making themselves more rigid than before. He gave a nod and opened the door, finding Morhiem bent over a table in the middle of the room, studying a map. He had all sorts of tools and stationary scattered around the table. Uncharacteristic of Morhiem, who is normally very organised, down to the smallest detail. He once challenged his roommate to a duel while they were training at the officers academy. His roommate was very messy, which often managed to creep onto Morhiem’s side of the room. The terms were that if Morhiem could beat him in a duel with one arm, then Connor would have to find another room, but if he lost, then Morhiem would be his servant until the end of the semester, which had only just begun. An offer Connor couldn’t refuse, the terms were too good and he’d look like coward if he passed it up. But Morhiem doesn’t play with dice, so when they met in the courtyard they were met by all of their peers. Bets on who would win started low but quickly reached large sums, many of Morhiem’s friends betting his way, knowing his talent, whilst others who had the money to spare opted to bet on Connor. Morhiem made a proxy bet on himself, through his friend.

Connor was a much taller and stronger man, whose weapon of choice was often something that would destroy his target in one hit. For this particular duel, he chose a greatsword. The sword was long enough to reach Morhiem’s shoulders should the handle be touching the ground. A heavy weapon, which took great strength to swing and even greater strength to control. Morhiem knew Connor could control the weapon, but that didn’t matter. He knew he was faster and more agile, so he chose a rapier. A weapon of accuracy and skill, deadly in the right hands. Though it appeared to be a very unfair fight, considering rapier training did not occur at the academy, everybody thought he chose the weapon because it was light and he was too weak to wield anything heavier. But what the crowd didn’t know, nor did his opponent, was that Morhiem had been trained in the rapier since he was old enough to stand. His family was wealthy and had opted to have him trained in many of the skills a high ranking officer should have well before he was old enough to join.

Connor marched towards Morhiem, sword held aloft. He struck at Morhiem as soon as he came within range, bringing his blade down with terrifying power, smashing it into the dirt as Morhiem dodged left and stepped out of the way. He struck at Connor with a quick jab of his rapier, but Connor was prepared, pivoting to the right and lifting the handle of his blade above his head, bringing it in front of him like a shield. It took a smart warrior to turn an offensive weapon into a defensive tool, a surprise to Morhiem that Connor knew the weapon that well, but this changed nothing. Morhiem stood back, enough so that the rapier was out of reach but the great sword wasn’t. Connor came to his feet and charged at Morhiem, thrusting his heavy blade towards him, almost impaling him, but Morhiem again dodged the attack and sprinted towards Connor as he followed the force of his thrust and the weight of his heavy blade. He tripped Connor into the dirt, smacking him on the back of the head with the flat of his blade.

“It is done, I expect you to have your things gone by tonight,” Morhiem announced, raising his arms to the cheering crowd.

Embarrassed, Connor jumped to his feet and swung at Morhiem without consideration. Sensing the changed nature of the bout, Morhiem jumped over the low swung blade and landed to the side of Connor, stabbing his rapier into the back of his right leg, dashing to his other side and delivering the same blow to his left leg. Connor screamed in pain and swung his sword in an about turn, but Morhiem watched the obvious attack from just out of range as he stood to the front of Connor, pointing his rapier at his throat. Guards came rushing in on order of the head trainer at the academy, as did several medics. The fight was over, but Connor would never forget the embarrassment.

~

Redven walked up the the table and glossed over what he saw on the map. Different figurines to denote different gang factions and militia that stir in the west. There were also several that were placed in the east, the mountains and forest were homes to some sort of cult according to the map.

“Ah, Redven, my friend. It’s good to see you here unharmed. Please, take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly,” said Morhiem, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk. A woman dressed similarly to Nala stood by Morhiem’s desk, pouring water into a cup as Redven walked over. Her uniform was identical aside from a few patches that had different symbols on them.

“Fancy outfit for a cupbearer,” said Redven, not liking the way she stared at him. The woman gave no response, turning her gaze from him slowly as she noticed Morhiem making his way over to the desk.

“I’ve been receiving alarming intelligence that indicates that many of the militia and organised bandit groups have started to head east. They are becoming sick of fighting each other and it’s becoming harder for them to do so whilst fighting our army. I worry that they will regroup in the east and attack unhindered,” said Morhiem, his face furrowed with concern.

“I’m sorry to call you here again Redven, but this is important and I can’t say these things via letter and I’d rather not tell anybody that needn’t know.”

Redven thought back to advice given to him by the blacksmith he apprenticed under. He told him that anything said before the word ‘but’ was often a lie or not meant by the speaker. Redven knew Morhiem cared for him, but he knew that he cared from his own agenda more.

“There have been sightings in the south and reports from the eastern gate of the Outer Ring that many unsavouries have begun to stir trouble in the area. I ask you again. Please, come and train the men to defend the innocents in the east. Are you not concerned about your friends out there, the farmers you spoke of?”

“They attacked me the other night. I’m sorry Morhiem I can’t. Besides, I’d have to sell the farm and nobody has that kind of money.”

“The crown would buy the land from you, turn it into a garrison. All of the men you would train would be stationed there. You’re family would never need money again, and still you’d be paid well to teach what you know. Your son would have the best of schooling, your wife whatever she desires,” said Morhiem, becoming visibly frustrated at Redven’s refusal.

“My friend, please, I can’t do this for any amount of money,” insisted Redven, standing as he pleaded with Morhiem.

“Hmmm, I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll leave you to your life. When do you leave?”

`“As soon as we are finished here.”

“My men will accompany you home, I won’t have you attacked along the road,” Morhiem said, pointing at Redven as he said it.

“I don’t need them, I’m sure.”

“I’m sending them east anyway, despite your lack of cooperation, I still need to defend the kingdom from these threats. They will be stationed a league or two from your farm, should they be needed,” Morhiem said with the seriousness of a direct order, though Redven was not one of his soldiers.

Morhiem gestured to the hooded lady next to his desk who then went and opened the door for Redven. Taking his cue, Redven gave an awkward bow and left, neither man entirely happy with the outcome of the meeting.

He walked back to the inn and packed his things, leaving Morhiem’s security detail at the door. He wrote a small note of apology to Nala and left it with the barkeep in case she came to visit. The four heavily armoured men seemed to alarm the patrons. They tailed Redven quickly as he marched towards the stables. The guards had horses waiting ready to go, Redven’s was already saddled and waiting for him. The stable boy was nowhere to be seen, the horses instead held by army personnel.

Redven rode home quickly, hoping to make it in time for dinner. The guards kept pace for most of the journey, easing off as they reached their destined town. As Redven reached his home, there were no lights inside, despite it being well past sundown. All of the nearby homes were aglow with candlelight, but his was dark. Redven rode to the stable and slammed the gate closed, not bothering to bolt it shut. He raced to the front door to find the front window smashed in, blood still dripping from the remaining glass.