Valkyrie's Shadow

Birthright: Act 5, Chapter 8

Birthright: Act 5, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Liam opened his eyes to a dreamlike world.

Staring up through streams of sunlight filtering through curtains of intricate lace, his gaze ran over the pastel patterns on the polished ceiling above. The fabric of his covers slid across his skin with a sensation he had never felt before as he shifted slightly to look around. Soft sounds of breathing turned his head, and he discovered his sister sleeping soundly beside him.

They were...inside? The richly-decorated surroundings and expensive-looking fabrics laid about him were a stark contrast to the muddy alley he last remembered seeing. No, something else had happened.

There was a demon, and a slow journey through the darkness – a memory veiled by a haze of fatigue and agony. The recollection most clear to him was the struggle in the alley, the pain in his side and how it slowly became harder and harder to breathe…

He was dead, then. The past few months had been one long struggle to survive; he had never considered what would come after. He never wasted his time listening to the priests, but he imagined the torturous journey through the darkness must have been to reach the other side of whatever lay between life and death.

Liam lifted the covers to check his side and found only unmarred skin where there was almost certainly a terrible injury before. Saye stirred at the disturbance and her heavy lashes fluttered open. Why was his sister here anyways? The question made his heart sink. If he was dead, then she must have died as well.

“Liam?” Her voice murmured drowsily.

Saye uncurled and stretched herself; then stopped abruptly. She sat up and turned towards him, hands hovering worriedly in his direction. He had seen this somewhere before.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you hungry? I’ll ask for some food.”

The mention of food in the flood of questions made his stomach growl. Did dead people get hungry? Maybe he became a Zombie.

“Saye,” he said after an alarming detail caught his attention, “wait. Who are you asking for food? Where are we?”

“This is a Noble’s carriage, I think,” his sister replied. “They said they would have food for you when you woke up.”

A Noble. Freely offered food.

“Those men – there was blood. How am I better again?”

“They said that you were hurt bad,” Saye said, “so they used a healing potion.”

Liam felt panic rising in his chest. It was definitely a trap. Healing potions were very expensive: at least five gold for even the cheapest ones…or was it more now? Unless…

He checked his side again, pressing around his ribs to see if anything felt wrong. It wasn’t a cheap illusion, and he hadn’t been given something to numb the pain. Neither did he think his injury was so light that a herbal remedy was able to work on him; those took much longer to act. A real potion had been used on him: the kind that Adventurers used. Looking at his sister’s worried expression, his mind worked to find a way out of their situation…but he could think of nothing.

Adults played dirty, and nobles were the dirtiest of them all. They had rules for everyone, and decided who the rules counted for. He had seen many seedy people work on their behalf, and many helplessly fall to their tricks. If they couldn’t get what they wanted from an unknowing victim, then they used force. If force was not an option, then they used greed. If greed did not work…

Saye wasn’t stupid or greedy. They must have used his injury against her, to force her to go along quietly. Now that they had tended to him, they would demand repayment. Liam could no more come up with five gold coins than he could have won against a dozen of those big men in the alley. There was food as well – maybe Saye had simply given up and decided to take it along with the poison that was the debt that would now be claimed against them.

Despite his worry, his stomach rumbled again at the passing thought of a meal. Saye crawled over to the door, stopping to straighten her clothing: clean, fine clothing far removed from the barely serviceable rags of the night before.

“I’m going to go ask,” she said as she pulled the polished latch of the door. “They left clothes here for you as well.”

Saye stepped out and shut the door behind her.

Clothes. The troubles in his mind mounted as he reached out for the neatly folded articles nearby. The size of their debt continued to grow as he unfolded a fresh white linen shirt. Sturdy brown broadcloth pants along with a tooled leather belt lay beneath it. There were woolen stockings as well. Liam wanted to run away, but nobles had men and horses and hounds. He recalled the piercing gaze of the noble attendant that had instantly detected him even when he hid in the dark the night: there was no way they could escape from such terrifying people.

He pulled the shirt down over his head and the door opened again; Saye had reappeared with a uniformed woman at her back. His sister crawled back in and received a shiny covered tray from the woman, who then withdrew quietly and closed the door lightly behind her. Saye placed the tray in front of him and lifted the cover. He swallowed as the aroma of the meal drifted up to wash over him. Fresh bread and crisp bacon. Sliced fruits and vegetables. A bowl of clear soup.

He lifted a gleaming fork before his unbelieving eyes. It was silver. The tray and it’s cover were as well. Just how much wealth was placed in front of him? Though he marveled over it all, it confirmed his sister’s words: these people must be nobles – who else could be so rich?

Liam frowned as he absently picked up a roll – not just a piece, but a whole roll – of bread and split it in half. Its buttery scent filled his nose as the fluffy white insides seemed to spring out to entice him to partake of his meal. He held out one half of the roll to Saye but, to his surprise, she shook her head.

“I already had mine,” she did not meet his eyes. “They said there would be some for you too.”

Liam lowered his hand.

“I’m not mad,” he said.

He nibbled on the bread, torn between eating the food and trying to avoid even more trouble, but his hunger inevitably won out.

“Who are they?” Liam asked after finishing the first full meal he had eaten since the autumn festival.

“I don’t know.” Saye said, “They have a lot of servants, armed men and maids. They aren’t from here.”

Liam recalled the Nobles that had visited with Countess Fassett. These must be them, then. He did not know much about nobles from the east, only that they were far more wealthy and powerful than the ones here: meaning they were far more dangerous. The monster that had killed those men in the alley was proof of this.

They had fallen into the clutches of some bad people. His troubled thoughts followed him as they left the carriage.

Liam laced the boots that were awaiting him outside on the steps. The soles did not fit him, but it was far better than walking around barefoot. Though the hazy trek through the night felt like it had stretched on forever, he was still surprised to find them so far from the town. Stepping out onto the grass, he turned to look at the ornate carriage that he had awoken in. There were a row of them – the same ones he had seen the previous evening – one had the two sigils on placards fixed to the side.

A half dozen of the same sort of uniformed women went back and forth, carrying laundry and dishes and working in various parts of the camp. The realization that it was a camp Liam understood as odd in itself. A few armed men stood as sentries along the perimeter, while others slowly patrolled back and forth over the area. There were any number of fine inns that they could have stayed at in the town, why would they choose to stay outside?

“You’re up and about, then,” a voice came from behind him, and he jumped.

He spun and backed away in a panic. A pretty Elf with shoulder length green hair smiled down at him, covering her mouth with one hand. Her grey eyes sparkled in amusement at his reaction.

“Good morning, Liam,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

He looked up at her, his mouth working soundlessly. The Elf’s smile did not fade.

“I am Wiluvien,” she pressed her hand to her breast. “Your sister shared with us what happened last night. That was very brave of you.”

The warmth in her voice made him raise his guard even further. Looking over her attire, Liam saw the same black-and-white uniform fitting neatly over the Elf’s slender figure. These women were probably maids. The man from the previous evening had been right about his assumption that there were no noble Elves.

“What…what do you want?” He asked carefully.

“Well,” her smile did not fade, “if you are well enough, Camilla will see you now.”

Camilla will see you now.

The cold voice echoed from his memory, sending a shudder up his spine. Looking around, he found Saye standing nearby and took her hand in his. The Elf maid’s gaze passed over them and her smile turned up even further as she led them through the camp. She smiled far too much. Adults only smiled when they wanted something from you, or after they hit you.

One side of the area was lined with wooden barricades with rows of sharpened wooden stakes. The carriages formed a semicircle around another semicircle of large tents, and within was a grey pavilion. The ridge the camp had been set upon offered a wide view of the surroundings, looking out over the town further up the highway. If it wasn’t for the maids working here and there, he would have believed it a camp of mercenaries. Wiluvien led them straight to the pavilion, stopping at the edge near a sentry standing watch over the cliffside.

“My ladies,” she said respectfully, “I have brought Liam with me. Saye has come as well.”

From inside, six women looked towards them. Four were standing around a wooden table while the other two appeared to be maids waiting on them. Of the four, three were dressed in fine clothing, while the last was dressed in a clean, but plain, dress. All of the women inside were young and pretty in their own way – Liam looked back and forth between them wordlessly before he felt a finger jab his side.

“I…” He started, then interrupted himself to bow awkwardly.

Was this how it was done? He wasn’t sure what to do after that so he stayed bent at the waist.

“Uh…is he okay?”

One of the women’s voices came from the table. Liam tried to recall the voices from the previous evening.

“He was just a moment ago, my lady,” Wiluvien said.

“Bring him forward, then,” a different woman said. “I’d like to see as much ground covered as possible today.”

Liam felt a tug on his hand as Saye pulled on him. He straightened himself and, as he came close, he realized they were indeed the same noblewomen that he had seen speaking to Countess Fassett the previous evening. He raised his head and saw that the plainly dressed woman was the same one that had seen him spying on the Fassett estate: Camilla. She was not wearing the same sort of fancy dress as the others, so was she not a noble? Rather than one of them, she gave off the feeling of being much stronger than the others; stronger than even the rough men in the town that had put him down so easily – maybe she was a bodyguard, which would explain much.

Overhead, a magical lamp cast its light brightly enough to banish the shadows even in the corners of the pavilion. Spread in front of him on the smooth, polished tabletop was a map. Several stacks of paper were arranged around it. A few thick books were sitting over a corner of the map as well.

“Do you know what this is?” The plainly-dressed woman asked, seeing his eyes on the table between them.

Liam shook his head. It was a map, he knew, but of what he could not tell. A woman in a blue dress, who was nearly as tall as the plainly-dressed one beside her, pointed a polished nail to the shapes on the map.

“This is Fassett Town,” she said, and then her finger traced a thick line that ran through it. “This is the Royal Highway. These other locations along the way are the villages and hamlets leading towards E-Rantel.”

Her hand made a broad motion over the surface of the table, the golden waves of her hair spilling over her shoulders as she leaned forward to do so.

“This is a map of Fassett County, your home.”

A finger jabbed his side again, and Liam peered down at the details on the map. Across the table, a skinny noblewoman with blue eyes like Saye’s – she looked to be closer to his own age – gave him a measuring look.

“I don’t think he can read,” she said.

Liam felt his face heat up at her statement. She was right: he had no idea what anything on the map said – he couldn’t even read the littlest bit. He could only guess what the shapes and lines meant. They had instantly seen through his attempt to look useful.

“Wiluvien can work with him,” it did not seem to matter to Camilla.

“Work…” Liam started.

The women turned their attention to him.

“To pay for everything. I can work…”

Liam’s voice trailed off. Work on what? He wasn’t sure what they wanted, exactly.

The women exchanged glances with one another before Camilla spoke once again. Her sharp, brown-eyed gaze held his own as she spoke.

“Do you understand the meaning of this work?” She asked him.

Liam felt his back straighten as a chill ran through his body. She spoke in a way unlike anyone he had heard before – certainly nothing like how one would speak down to children. It was not patronizing or coddling, nor cajoling or sickly sweet with the air of false friendliness seeking to disarm him of his wariness. Her words were expressed in a mellow tone, yet at the same time her voice was like a blade: not one that was pointed at him, but one that directed him with expectation. Authority that stirred him to action.

He looked back down at the brightly-lit table: at the map, the papers and the books. Swallowing, looked back up at Camilla.

“You want to know about the town,” he said. “Things that you can use for what you are doing here.”

Camilla’s gaze held his firmly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Wiluvien,” she looked to the Elf maid.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Let Lluluvien know that Liam and Saye will be joining you in your efforts.”

The maid bowed in affirmation, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Before they were led away, the woman spoke once more.

“You may call me Camilla,” she said, looking at each of them in turn. “Liam; Saye: you are under our protection now.”