“The Prince has invited us all to stay for three nights in Gaumond where he’ll hold court. Following that, we’ll continue on the Great Road north through the Black Forest, settling in for another three nights at Fumagalli...”
My heart kicks up in excitement.
I’ve never traveled as far as Fumagalli. It’s a far west outpost in the Court of Warriors, a decent-sized village that rests at the edge our forests and overlooks the Bulwark Plains.
“…We’ll continue along the Great Road to Red Falls and spend one night in the Bulwark Plains, two days traveling. Any questions?”
Desmond’s eyes move to each and every one of us silently, though no one speaks up.
“Then I have just one rule for this travel,” he nods as Holis and Mana shift in their seats.
“No one from this group is to travel into the Riverlands for any reason whatsoever, nor are you to cross the border into the Kingdom of Livyatan. Should we come across any Leviathans in the Bulwark Plains, you are not to engage. His Highness and I will assess the situation and determine how best to handle. Do I make myself clear?”
I nod with the others and ponder on the statement. The Riverlands belong to the Leviathans, though the border of those lands push against the neutral Bulwark Plains between our Kingdom and theirs. There really is no reason for us to cross into Livyatan, and while I would love to see more of the Old World outside of Disce, the Leviathans aren’t exactly known for accommodating strangers.
“Good,” Desmond’s gaze connects with each of us again, “let’s ride.”
We make it to the edge of Bartley’s Clearing well before mid-day, slowing our horses to a walk as we move into Bartley’s Forest. The woods are cut down along the road, though both sides are littered with massive pillars of greenstone that are carved into the shape of oaks. Their long limbs arch over us in an unmoving embrace, each tree following our group until we reach the other edge of the clearing where Bartley’s Village awaits.
I bring Millie to a stop in front of a water trough belonging to the village’s only pub, smiling as Cal brings his own horse to my right and Holis and Mana to our left. Cal catches my attention once we’re done watering the horses, the look in his eyes beckoning as he nods to the pub.
He wants to talk.
So do I.
The three of us enter the pub behind Cal and let the big man lead us to a table that sits in the far corner of the room. Desmond and his own three companions are already settled a good distance away, the group out of earshot amongst the light ramble of the other travelers around us. A curvy woman promptly approaches our table with mugs of ale in her hands, passing the first to Cal and letting her chest flash down at him in obvious greeting.
“Are you all here for lunch?” she asks sweetly, eyes lingering on my big friend.
I take a gulp of ale to hide my obvious smile.
“We are,” Cal replies, “beef stew, please. For the four of us.”
The woman smiles and walks back to the counter, her hips swaying in hopes that he’ll chance a look. Cal does nothing of the sort and waits for her to retreat, his eyes holding mine in deliberate question before he leans forward on the table. I feel Holis and Mana’s glances on me as well, the four of us all hunching forward as we converge over the table.
“We’re here for you, aren’t we?” Cal whispers.
I understand his question. He wants to know if this is a standard travel, like all the others we’ve taken together over the past two years, even though we’re being escorted by royalty.
I nod over my drink and glance towards Desmond, making sure he’s far enough not to hear us. Curiously, he’s got his fingers resting at the sides of his temples with his eyes closed, the Master Informer looking as if he’s soothing an aching head.
“He didn’t tell us,” Cal sighs in response and leans back in his chair. Mana does the same and seemingly loses all interest in the conversation, apparently getting the answer he needs.
“It was a quick turnaround for us all, it seems,” Holis murmurs.
It was.
The three of us had just landed in Bardot two days ago from our travel to I’Nir. We’re usually allowed a fortnight or more before the King sends us out again.
“Are we treating this the same as the other trips?” Cal inquires.
“Yes,” I nod, “same as the other trips.”
“Then let’s begin tomorrow morning before dawn,” he whispers, prompting Holis to avert his eyes.
“Okay,” I reply, rolling my own at the Discerni twin, “five days?”
“Five days,” Cal affirms and takes a drink, “which would mean one will have to be in Gaumond.”
