"Jath!"
Lhara's call went unanswered; Jath was already long gone from the restaurant. Other patrons on the porch turned in their seats to stare, eyebrows raised at the sudden outburst. Reyson, Yidu, and Lhara were left standing awkwardly with Kiiss's contact, Darenel Tremaris.
Reyson was the first to act. Stepping up to the table, he cleared his throat.
"I apologize on behalf of our colleague, Lord Tremaris. Since it appears that Jath will not be joining us for dinner, shall we place our orders?"
The abrupt shift in Reyson's speech and demeanor – from his usual gruffness to polished and polite - reminded Lhara of Izzy Ven's reference to the swordsman having once been a nobleman of Goran himself. That didn't make her any less uneasy about Jath's sudden exit though. She was still looking back over her shoulder when Darenel answered.
"...Yes, of course. Ladies."
Stepping around the table, Darenel slid out a seat and offered it to Yidu. Reyson did the same for Lhara, and soon they were all seated beneath the ivy-laden porch trellis, considering hand-printed menu cards and pretending that everything was perfectly in order.
For Lhara, nothing was in order, but the most pressing concern was what to do about her meal. Although she could read – more than most of the folk of Trosk could say – her skills were rusty, and the letters of the menu were small. At The Giant's Shoe in Trosk, she would have just asked Yelaina what her da had cooked for dinner that day. Lhara was pulled away from her squinty-eyed study of the menu when she heard Reyson say her name.
"...one of the mountainfolk, who joined us shortly before the Uprising at Utunma. And this is-"
"Yidu," Yidu was quick to step in and introduce herself. "From Moaan."
Darenel inclined his head, then frowned, politely curious. "Please forgive my ignorance, but do southerners not have trade surnames they go by as well?"
"We do. I just wasn't old enough to have started a trade yet when all this rebellion first began. I guess you could say that I'm a Factionist by trade, like General Vinie BlackPearl."
"Does that not make you Yidu BlackPearl, then? Seeing as you and your general share the same trade?" asked Darenel.
Yidu opened her mouth as if to disagree. Then she took on a thoughtful look. The corner of her mouth quirked upward, pleased, and slowly she nodded.
"Yas...I suppose it does. Alright then, my name is Yidu BlackPearl."
"A pleasure to meet you, Yidu BlackPearl." Darenel's right hand flashed through a brief gesture which Lhara wasn't familiar with; pressing the tips of two fingers to his lips before showing them outwards toward Yidu. No response seemed to be required, and it was just then that the hostess who had met them at the door reappeared. She moved so smoothly and silently, Lhara startled when the woman spoke behind her.
"Has everyone here seen something on offer that catches their interest?" the hostess asked. "I am happy to come back later if you wish for more time."
"No need," said Reyson. "I know what I want."
Rather than struggle with the wordy menu anymore, Lhara just listened to what Reyson ordered and asked for the same. The woman's placid, polite expression never faltered as she went around the table, except when she leaned in to take Darenel's order. Her bright white teeth flashing in a dazzling smile, she wrapped long, red-painted nails so far around the edge of the menu as to 'accidentally' brush against Darenel's fingers when he handed it to her. Lhara may have been from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, as she was becoming increasingly, painfully aware of, but she knew flirting when she saw it. By Lhara's estimation, the hostess wasn't wrong to find Darenel Tremaris attractive either. There was something slightly off about his beauty though; a hollowing of his cheeks and a dullness of his dark blue eyes that gave the man the slightly wasted air of one who had been ill on and off for a long time.
"Now then, to business." Lacing weathered hands together atop the snow-white silk tablecloth, Reyson eyed Darenel. "You received Madame Kiiss's message, obviously?"
Darenel nodded. "I did. Madame Kiiss proved herself an invaluable connection when I was first starting up my little 'enterprise'. When she wrote to me asking for help in discreetly reaching Hashodi, I was only too happy to oblige."
"What enterprise is that?" interrupted Lhara. Reyson slid her a sideways look, but Darenel did not seem perturbed.
"I manage a team of experienced guides, trackers, and travelers – some with previous military experience - who know the northwest of Goran better than their own faces. With my oversight and coordination, they locate, transport, and deliver anything...or anyone, anywhere, with an emphasis on discretion being our key selling point."
"Mercenaries, in other words," supplied Yidu helpfully.
"Yes, mercenaries. For a modest fee to support our network, there are few places in this corner of the world where we will not go...and few things we will not do. I myself have traveled quite extensively over the past two years across the lands between Blue Stone, Vaelona, and Geristan."
"Will you be traveling with us to Hashodi, then?" asked Lhara. Although she didn't understand why, she feared that the answer would be yes. Mostly she didn't understand why Jath had reacted so dramatically to the mere sight of this man. As far as Lhara could tell on first impressions, he seemed perfectly pleasant.
The issue was avoided altogether when Darenel shook his head. "No, but one of our best northern guides, a man by the name of Sonak, will. The Night Forest can be a challenging place to travel, particularly when one deviates from the main road."
"That's why we've come to you," said Reyson. "Madame Kiiss felt, for our errand particularly, it would not be safe for us to travel to Hashodi by way of the main road. Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu agreed with her, as did General Vinie. We need to go by way of the forest, while still getting to Hashodi as quickly as possible. The loss of the Third Company at Utunma has kept Mahir quiet for a little while, but no one knows how much longer this moment of peace will last. When the bubble bursts, Undor will need allies."
The hostess reappeared with a tray of bread rolls and bowls of butter, which she placed in the center of the table by going unnecessarily around to stand next to Darenel. Although they had spent the afternoon at The Lighthouse nibbling on bits of fruit and cheese, Lhara's stomach still let out an enthusiastic rumble. She and Yidu were quick to tear into the bread, utterly heedless of how Reyson and Darenel tidily opened and buttered their own buns.
"I fear I must agree with you regarding the king. Only just last week, the Second Company left their barracks on the outskirts of town. Latest reports placed them halfway between here and Vaelona, no doubt on their way south by way of Amenthere. The trip between Blue Stone and Hashodi is usually about two days, if one goes on horseback along the main road," Darenel was saying as Lhara reached for a second roll. "Sonak informs me that, through the Night Forest on foot, it is likely to be closer to five."
Reyson's sun-weathered brow furrowed. "Five days...that's unfortunately about what Madame Kiiss was guessing. And how much will that cost us, provisions and gear included?"
"Will Jatheryn be going as well?"
Lhara froze with the bread halfway to her mouth. Although Darenel had called out Jath's full name earlier, she hadn't entirely realized the significance of it until now.
"You and Jath know each other." She said, a statement, not a question. "How?"
Darenel gaze fell, briefly, long dark lashes standing out stark against his pale, sharply boned cheeks. Then he sighed and met Lhara's gaze, as composed as only a Gorian noble could be.
"We were acquainted as youths in Vaelona, the city of our birth. To say any more on the matter would be to overstep, and risk contradicting what Jatheryn may or may not have already told you. Suffice it to say, you have likely already guessed that our history is complicated...and deeply personal."
A faraway look came into Darenel's eyes as he spoke, and Lhara guessed he was remembering events from his and Jath's shared history. Absent-mindedly, Darenel stroked a ring on the smallest finger of his left hand; a twisted loop, shining too blue for silver and too silvery for gemstone.
Reyson shifted in his seat, clearly wanting to divert the meeting back to its intended course. "Yes, ours would be a party of four, from here to the gates of Hashodi. What is your company's fee?"
"Usually, we adjust for price depending on the nature of the venture in question. Smuggling Factionists into the north is a first for our company."
The way Darenel said the word 'Factionists' – so unperturbed and casual – was definitely not what any of them would have expected from a Gorian nobleman. Even so, Reyson, Lhara, and Yidu all froze in their seats. That they were working on behalf of the Undorian rebellion had been implied by the mentions of Kiiss's name and Yidu's presence, but until now the exact nature of their business had gone tacitly unnamed.
Their uncertainty, like everything else since Jath's sudden departure, hardly seemed to faze Darenel. "Personally, I have no stake in the matter either which-way. My priorities are my own and have nothing to do with whether we all call ourselves Gorians or otherwise. My guides will see you safely to the gates of Hashodi, and I can assure you that they are well used to handling matters of both urgency and secrecy. In answer to your question, Master Reyson, ordinarily I charge a rate of ten luns, per person, per day. At four people travelling and five days on the road, that comes to two hundred luns, or twenty sols, whichever your preference."
Reyson did not answer immediately, drawing glances of concern between Lhara and Yidu. Neither of them had ever been to the Night Forest before, travelling along the main road or otherwise. To most folk, the north of Goran was a foreign, mysterious place, its people notoriously insular and its cities little more than names on the map. To reach Hashodi, they would need a guide. Unworldly as she was however, even Lhara knew that two hundred luns was a huge sum of money. She herself had only charged Jath forty luns for the trip from Trosk to Falerik. All forty of the precious silver coins still hung safe in their pouch inside her dress. If and when Lhara ever made it back to Trosk, that kind of money would allow her and Tarun to rebuild their lives with plenty to spare...to say nothing of two hundred luns!
Finally, Reyson spoke. "That's a steep price for five days. After the cost of sailing here and docking in Blue Stone, Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu only allotted us twelve sols for the trip to Hashodi. I cannot spend any more than that, not knowing what expenses might still await us after we reach the northern capital."
"Why charge so much??" demanded Yidu. "I once ran all the way from the vineyard road-fork to Falerik, and I didn't ask General Vinie for so much as a copper ignum!"
Darenel shook his head. "I do not ask so much for the sake of accumulating wealth. I am not a Factionist though. You must understand, many of the ventures for which my people are hired place them outside the narrow confines of royal law. Some of my operatives are even unable at this point to maintain livelihoods outside of the company. They rely on the fees charged to clients as their sole source of income with which to support themselves and their families."
"So, you won't give us a guide to the north, then?" Lhara had changed her mind; perhaps Jath did have a good reason after all for not wanting to deal with Darenel Tremaris.
"I said nothing of the kind, Mistress Lhara. I would like to propose a deal. I will cut the price of twenty sols cleanly in half to ten – absorbing the difference out of my own pocket – if you will do me one favour."
"What favour are you asking of us, then?" Reyson pressed.
Nobody so much as looked up when the hostess returned, accompanied by a pair of serving girls, to deliver their meals. Again, she tried to catch Darenel's eye, and again failed. Although the hostess kept her posture as perfect as ever, her smile as she urged them all to enjoy their dinner was devoid of any more genuine enthusiasm. The rich, savory smell of meat, potatoes, and roasted vegetables nearly stole Lhara's attention clean away from the conversation at hand. She had never tasted beef before, but if the scent of the Shepherd's Pie before her was any indication, it was about to become her new favourite dish. Her mouth watered, but even Lhara was too intent on the conversation to reach for her fork.
Darenel answered Reyson, but locked eyes with Lhara as he spoke. "Convince Jatheryn to meet with me, alone, for one hour." The surprise must have shown on Lhara's face. "I cannot bear for him to disappear again without us having spoken first...please."
Disappear again? Lhara knew that she didn't know everything about Jath and his life before the Factionists. Far from it, in fact. Two sides warred within her though. One half of her felt a strong, protective surge of emotion. It was clear that Jath didn't want to speak to this man...didn't even want to see him. It was that business of 'insurance for the regents' all over again; people asking things of Jath that they had no right to, expecting him to make sacrifices for the sake of the greater good.
The other half of Lhara couldn't bring herself to dismiss Darenel Tremaris's request out-of-hand. They needed a guide to Hashodi and couldn't afford the full asking-price. What Darenel was offering was the easiest ten sols ever made. One hour alone with someone from his past wouldn't kill Jath, would it? It didn't even occur to Lhara to question if Jath would be safe with Darenel or not; the bones in Darenel's high cheeks and graceful wrists were so pronounced, the man looked almost ethereal, birdlike. Good health and a smile would have made Darenel Tremaris not just handsome, but overwhelmingly so, a notion which Lhara decided she would prefer not to dwell on any longer. Regardless, it seemed unlikely that the man sitting before them would be able to bring any sort of physical harm to Jath.
Unfortunately, all Lhara's musings ended up having a total of no effect whatsoever. Relief practically rolling off him, Reyson leaned across the table to offer his hand to Darenel.
"Done. Name your time and place, and we'll talk to the boy."
Lhara sat in uncomfortable silence, frowning and biting her lip as Reyson and Darenel shook hands. She felt so far out of her element here...so useless. Such a deal would never have been necessary in Trosk; Darenel could have just marched straight up to Jath and demanded to talk to him (Jath probably might have hit him for his trouble), and come evening the two of them would be sitting around the fire in The Giant's Shoe along with everyone else, their grievances aired and harmony restored. Here, everything was deals struck and insider histories.
This, however, was not Trosk. Somehow that reminder of just how far she was from home stole a great deal of Lhara's appreciation for her dinner. As delicious as the Shepherd's Pie was, it paled in comparison to Yelaina's mutton and bean casserole, hot from the hearth and served with a side of friendly company.
OoOoO
Later than evening, as the three of them were walking back down through the streets of Blue Stone to The Lighthouse, Reyson broached the subject which Lhara had been dreading.
"Someone will need to speak to Jath."
Yidu, who unlike Lhara had enjoyed not one but two helpings of dinner – the bill picked up by Darenel Tremaris – stretched and yawned.
"If you want to go proposing that deal to him tonight, with the sun already set, you be my guest. I have an urgent appointment to keep with a feather pillow."
Lhara was quick to agree. "Yes Reyson, let's leave it 'till tomorrow at least. I doubt Jath wants to hear anything about Darenel Tremaris from you...leastwise not until we've all had a chance to sleep on it."
A rush of wings overhead briefly stole their attention from the moonlit street ahead to the sky above. Too fast for anything but a brief glimpse of silver wings against sapphire skies, a group of owls flew over the rooftops. The city of Blue Stone had gone quiet for the night; autumn was beginning, and already the sunlit evenings of summer were behind them for another year. A clock – another new marvel Lhara had marked and wondered at earlier on their way to their restaurant – chimed nine times at the far end of the square. Although Lhara couldn't make out the clock's hands in the fading light, she knew by the coolness of the shadows and the soft squeaking of mice venturing out from their holes that soon there would be stars overhead.
As they rounded the corner down onto the street where The Lighthouse was – a bright lantern in its uppermost window paying homage to the name – Reyson surprised Lhara by falling back into step with her. Yidu, now confident of their bearings, led the way with another yawn.
"Actually, I wasn't planning on discussing the deal with Jath. I was thinking you ought to be the one to speak to him, Lhara."
"Me?! Why would I be-"
"Because you're the closest to Jath of the three of us and you know it."
As indignant as Lhara was, she also knew that the swordsman was right. She highly doubted that Jath was in the habit of kissing either Reyson or Yidu. Even so, there were other grounds upon which Lhara objected.
"Didn't you see how upset Jath was when he left the restaurant? We don't know anything about the history between those two. This doesn't feel fair to ask of Jath..."
Yidu was waiting for them, holding the front gate of The Lighthouse open. One of the rooms upstairs had a lit candle in the window, and behind it the silhouette of the innkeeper could be seen. No doubt the man was up there, pursing his thin lips and imagining all sorts of dark subterfuge that his strange guests had been up to.
Reyson grunted. "There's fair, and then there's fact. We don't dare travel the main road to Hashodi, not when we're already attracting so much attention here in Blue Stone. It's just simple fact that you don't travel off-road in the Night Forest without a guide. Not unlike travelling in The Teeth, you understand?"
Lhara glared but again had no good counterargument.
No doubt seeing the unease under the attitude, Reyson sighed. "Let's turn in for the night. I'll check on Jath once I get to our room. I think you imagine the boy to be a little more fragile than he truly is, Lhara. From what rumors I heard while I was still a nobleman, people have been doing that to him his entire life. What he needs is strengthening, not coddling."
Chastened, Lhara nodded. She and Yidu paired off and headed up the stairs to their room, while Reyson likewise made his way to the room he and Jath shared. Yidu was in a sleepy mood, which suited Lhara perfectly fine. It had been a very, very long day, with a lot to take in. Blue Stone was both one of the most intriguing places Lhara had ever been...but also one of her least favourites thus far. Her relief at finally being able to kick off the nippy shoes and slither into her worn-out (but now clean) Undorian shirt was immense. Crawling under the goose feather quilt, Lhara needed only a minute before she was just as soundly asleep as Yidu.
OoOoO
Down the hall, Reyson stood looking at Jath's empty bed and glowering. Cursing under his breath, he went to the open window, intending to shut it against the gathering chill of night. Outside, the half-moon reflected perfectly in the glassy waters of Lake Aryna. On impulse, he leaned out over the sill, breathing in the scent of Blue Stone. Freedom had never tasted so sweet as the day when he had packed a bag, signed onto a ship, and left the noble name of Hollistor behind. A part of Reyson would always be tied to this place though. It was part of him, as well as the memories that lived there. In that regard at least, Reyson understood a tiny notion of what Jath might have been feeling.
Then he sighed. With a muttered "We don't have time for this," he leaned back in and shut the window. If only Reyson could have known how right he was.
OoOoO