Horizon of War Series

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Lansius and the three squires could hardly believe what they had just heard. Felicity had perfectly described Lord Arte’s features: light brown hair, a charming demeanor, a beautiful jawline, and a small scar on his left eyebrow. This could only mean that Felis had met Lord Arte.

“Where did you see him?” Hugo inquired cautiously.

Felis’s excitement grew. “I knew it! He’s not just some wandering minstrel. He has a different aura about him.”

“Was he alone?” Anci interjected impatiently.

“He was when I met him. He introduced himself as Archie, perhaps a disguised name,” Felis replied.

“And where and when did this happen?” asked Hugo.

“Pozna, just yesterday,” Felis replied with a smile.

The expressions on Thomas, Hugo, and Anci were a mixture of disbelief and relief. They had searched fruitlessly for weeks, even venturing to Feodosia in the slim hope that Lord Arte might have been captured and sold as a slave without being recognized. Now, it seemed that luck was on their side.

“Did you talk to this Archie?” Thomas probed.

“Only by chance. We met at the stable while waiting for our carriages. He introduced himself and made a humorous remark when I asked him a question.”

“Funny?” Thomas furrowed his brow.

“He said he was going to whore himself out to save his friend,” Felis giggled.

Her response left Hugo and Thomas dumbfounded. They now had more questions than answers.

“Where is he heading?” Lansius asked at last.

“North,” Felis replied with certainty, then added, “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I fear your friend intentionally headed there to meet with the slavers.”

“Slavers? Aren’t they supposedly in Feodosia?” asked Lansius, his brow furrowing.

“Those are the Imperium-approved ones, Lans. There’s also the illegal kind, you know?”

“Illegal slavers?” asked Lansius again.

Felis nodded unenthusiastically. “Unfortunately, there are people who trade slaves within the Imperium.”

Lansius recalled the rumors he had heard on the road. There had indeed been several mentions of it.

Noticing Lansius’s puzzled expression, Felis elaborated. “It’s an open secret that despite the law, many powerful men keep slaves to work on their vast, secluded estates.”

Hugo and Thomas exchanged thoughtful glances. The news did not sit well with them. A group audacious enough to operate against the Imperium’s law would likely be powerful and have ties with the local strongmen. However, their loyalty demanded they attempt to rescue their lord.

Despite their silence, the squires were already considering how many men they could gather before storming the location. They were trained for violence; it was their primary instinct. The idea of trying to negotiate their lord’s release or attempting to purchase his freedom crossed their minds, but their lack of funds, as well as their pride and honor, prevented them from uttering such thoughts.

Lansius observed them; he had a different idea. While Lord Arte was his master, he didn’t know him well on a personal level. More significantly, he had other priorities at the moment.

Anci broke the silence. “I’ll head north and scout around. There should be only one road, so we can easily find each other. You can gather men and follow when you’re ready.”

Thomas agreed. “A few simple markings should be easy to spot.”

Hugo nodded. “All right then, Thomas and I will head west to gather our men. You and the clerk should go north.”

Lansius was taken aback and protested. “I beg your pardon, but I must go to Feodosia.”

His response elicited stares from Hugo and Thomas, with only Anci remaining indifferent.

Lansius hurried to explain. “I cannot fight; I am dead weight. You have my purse, so let’s part ways here. I need to find my friend in Feodosia before she’s sold to someone else.”

Thomas looked away. He knew Stefi and understood Lansius’s motivations.

Anci snorted, seemingly amused by the turn of events. “There’s no need for him to come along. I can handle it myself.”

Hugo sighed, understandably offended that a retainer wouldn’t prioritize his master’s safety. “Let’s return to the inn. We’ll depart at first light tomorrow.”

Before they could move, a lady in a pale blue gown chimed in. “Do you need fighters?”

The group looked at her quizzically.

“You’re not suggesting yourself, are you?” Hugo asked.

“Well, I’m part of the package,” Felis said casually, then added, “I know capable fighters in Feodosia. Men-at-arms looking for contracts.”

This was welcome news for Hugo, who would take any offer in their current situation. “I need brave stout men, not kids or old men in armor.”

“Of course, I’m talking about duelists, watchmen, and thief-takers,” replied Felis.

Hugo nodded. “How many can you find and at what cost?”

Felis smiled brightly. “Well, I might be able to gather nine or ten if I can reach them all, but probably less if you need them quickly. As for the price, let’s discuss that later at the inn.” She paused and glanced at Lansius briefly. “We’ll need to borrow paper and ink, and then Lansius can handle the paperwork for us.”

“Why me?” Lansius was taken aback by the sudden mention of his name.

Felis gave Lansius a smug look. “I want this contract in writing, and I’d like to secure down payments as well.”

Hugo glanced at Thomas, who shrugged. “All right, let’s do it your way,” Hugo conceded. With the arrangements settled, they made their way back to the Swan.

Despite their dire circumstances, the squires found solace in the feast before them. Their table was strewn with empty dishes and empty earthen jugs. Even Hugo seemed to be enjoying himself. The unspoken consensus among them was that they might die in a few days, so they ought to savor life while they could.

The squires knew little about their adversaries, but rumors circulated that the illegal slavers were influential and powerful, with enough sway to undermine the Imperium’s authority. Engaging them in battle would likely be suicidal, which perhaps explained the group’s merry demeanor.

Beneath the soft glow of tallow candles, a wandering minstrel played his stringed instrument. The crowd requested a lively, humorous melody to lift their spirits. Meanwhile, the servers bustled about, providing more ale and food, their work clothes stained from a long day’s labor.

Thomas had passed out, his head resting on the table. The old man seemed to carry a heavy guilt that he kept to himself, unwilling to share.

The atmosphere grew rowdier when five women entered the inn. Most of the guests became boisterous at the sight of them, with some making bold advances. Hugo was among those flirting, focusing his attention on a woman in a dark green and white gown, her full lips and long, wavy hair capturing his interest.

Lansius, however, felt hollow and disconnected. His guilt prevented him from enjoying the festivities, even in the presence of the beautiful blonde, Felis, who sat beside him. It didn’t help that his evenings were usually quiet, wary about who might be sharing the communal sleeping space.

Noticing his gaze, Felis smiled. “Pozna wenches. They’re shy compared to the ones from Feodosia,” she commented.

Lansius simply nodded.

Felis leaned in closer. “Don’t you want to join in? I could help you pick a good one.”

Lansius knew she wasn’t teasing but politely declined. “Maybe next time.”

Felis giggled and took a sip of her ale. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the clamor and music as she turned to Anci, who sat at the next table, and tapped his back gently.

Anci craned his neck and gave her a questioning look.

“Come, let’s head outside. I need to talk to you about something,” Felis said.

Anci furrowed his brow. “About what?”

“About things that’ll involve you too,” she replied cryptically.

After a moment of contemplation, Anci stood. As he did so, Felis gestured for Lansius to follow. They stepped outside, not far from the entrance where two large lanterns cast a warm glow. Another lantern swayed gently near the wooden fence by the road, replacing the sounds of music with the chirping of crickets.

“What do you want to talk about?” Anci asked, guarded, while Lansius remained silent.

“Well, I want you to talk some sense into your friend here,” she began.

The two men were intrigued. “What do you mean?” Lansius asked.

“Well, you’re looking for your friend, right? A female fighter,” asked Felis.

“A female squire, yes. Why?”

“Lans, I doubt she’ll make it to Feodosia,” Felis said bluntly.

Lansius felt alarmed.

She continued. “I’ve never seen female fighters in Feodosia. They’re popular and in high demand as guards for harems in the Eastern Kingdoms or as bodyguards.”

Lansius’s suspicion arose. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”

“No, listen,” she insisted. “Female fighters are in demand, but we never see them in Feodosia. From what I’ve heard, someone always recruits them first—and it’s not traders from Feodosia.”

Lansius and Anci exchanged glances.

“Who is this someone?” Anci asked.

“It would be a lie if I said I knew for certain, but it’s most likely the same group you’re going up against. Between here and Arvena, I doubt there are two groups operating so close together.”

Lansius drew a deep breath. “You want me to go north?”

Felis nodded. “You might not trust me, but that’s my suggestion. You’ll have a better chance of finding her there than in Feodosia.”

Lansius hesitated before a large, rough hand patted his shoulder.

“The way I see it, if your friend’s not there, then she’ll be in Feodosia. However, if she’s there, then you won’t see her in Feodosia,” Anci said, flashing his predatory grin. “Looks like you’re coming with me, clerk.”

“Felis, are you absolutely certain?” Lansius asked, urgency coloring his tone.

“Without a doubt,” she responded with conviction. “I may not look the part, but I’m well-acquainted.”

Lansius sighed in resignation and later whispered, “But don’t you need company to Feodosia? Hugo just gave you a down payment, remember?”

Unfazed by the extra silvers in her purse, Felis giggled. “I’ll persuade Thomas to accompany me. It shouldn’t be too difficult; after all, I could easily disappear with all your coins,” she teased.

Her voice took on a serious tone as she noticed Lansius’s reaction. “Even if you go to Feodosia with me, you’ll need a proper introduction and then wait for days before receiving a formal invitation from the slavers. It’s not as if you can just have a look around . . . So, what will you do? Will you wait in Feodosia, and risk missing her, or will you take a quick detour to ensure that doesn’t happen?”

Anci stifled his laugh while Lansius gazed at the night sky, uncertain about the consequences his decision would bring. His head was still processing just how many things had happened in this single day. There were so many chance meetings and lucky coincidences that astounded him.

It’s as if someone, or something, is pulling the strings. . .

The following morning, as the first light broke, the Arvenians, one Midlandian, and a foreigner gathered. As agreed upon the night before, Thomas would accompany Felis to Feodosia, so they parted ways at the inn.

As Thomas’s horse-drawn cart headed east, Hugo, Anci, and Lansius set off west toward Pozna. Upon arrival, they quickly marched to the stable, where Hugo paid a deposit to rent a horse.

“Take care. I’ll meet you in two days,” Hugo said after testing the horse just outside the stable.

“You know my patience. Don’t take too long,” Anci half-threatened.

Hugo laughed heartily. Despite his eyes still being reddened from the previous night, he exuded confidence.

Anci approached the horse and gave it a firm pat, urging Hugo to leave. He set off at a brisk pace, racing west to gather fellow Arvenians.

After Hugo’s departure, Lansius followed Anci on foot as they set off to the north.

And so, the trio separated, and their plan was set into motion.

The hill range separating Midlandia and Rhomelia was teeming with birds flying freely. Despite being in the middle of summer, the land remained lush and green, dotted with ponds and marshes in the lowlands.

Lansius and Anci had traveled on foot for a day to reach this hill, where they spotted a suspicious manor surrounded by a palisade wall on the adjacent hill. They spent the remaining daylight constructing a crude tent. Neither was skilled in craftsmanship, so the shelter was poorly built.

After a fireless supper, Anci took the first watch. Nothing happened during his watch, so he woke Lansius, and they took turns watching like this until dawn. The night was quiet, too quiet for Lansius’s taste.

At dawn, as the wind blew, and the fog dissipated, Lansius could see the walled manor house perched on the hill, surrounded by farms and cottages. Even at a glance, he could tell that it was fortified. Aside from the palisade wall, it had guards and even an outer gate.

With spare time on his hands, Lansius drew a map on the ground using sticks and pebbles, depicting the manor’s defenses.

It looks like a mini fortress . . . walls on each side, fences, patrols, and checkpoints.

Attacking such a place would be suicidal. But knowing the Arvenians, Lansius felt they would most likely attempt it anyway. He sighed, pondering the possible outcomes.