Chapter Eighteen – A Royal Escort

  Fulgaday, 11 Tamihr, Year of Folivor the Restful Sloth, 489 years AWA

  Royal Palace, Candibaru, Andovarra

  Wenthe and Monoffa exchanged glances, Wenthe's whiskers twitching with interest while Monoffa tilted her head curiously. Jori voiced what several of them were thinking. "Are there no soldiers in your military who can do this? Not that I'm trying to criticize you, Your Majesty, but it seems like an odd job to trust to outsiders."

  King Eldoran nodded approvingly at the direct question—clearly a man who appreciated straightforward communication. "Ordinarily, this task would indeed be attended to by a squad from the military and I would have no need of asking outsiders, but Erythia, Andovarra's most aggressive and unpredictable neighbor, has been making a show of strength on our eastern border.”

  Jori frowned. “Is it serious?”

  The King shook his head. “I do not believe so right now. They have made shows of strength in the past, and that’s what we think this is, too.”

  Tail twitching, Wenthe said, “I’m not following why you need us.”

  King Eldoran began to pace. “The short answer is, because we need to make a show of strength equal to theirs, I don’t have the military personnel available right now to escort my son to Takatari.” He took a deep breath, grasping one hand with the other. “And Andovarra needs the trade alliance that Sondil’s marriage to Charina, Princess of Takatari, is meant to cement.”

  Perx regarded the King for a moment, his analytical mind working, then asked, “You are wanting the exports from the Confederated Islands of Matalis?”

  The King nodded. “Some of them, certainly. The higher concentration of wildshards in the Matalis have, from the limited cases I’ve seen, created some unusual effects that the different islands have found ways to harness. Some of them would give Andovarra advantages against Erythia, which is where we need them most.”

  Jori nodded. “Because Erythia wants land that borders the Matalis, so they can more easily receive exports from the Matalis, too?” He shot a wry grin at Kere, surprised to find this bit of political information useful in understanding the circumstances.

  The King nodded. “Exactly. As things stand right now, they have to sail southward all the way down the eastern coast of the continent, then cut around the Cape of Shattered Dreams, one of the most dangerous stretches of sea in all of Ciredan, a route that’s really only feasible during the three months of summer. The return trip is supposedly much harder. Our information is that only a few of their ships have made it back, always in bad shape, and carrying minimal cargo.”

  Drawing on her knowledge of the natural world and how predators operate, Kere asked, “And so this show of strength they’re making on the eastern border is what, them watching and waiting for a moment to strike until one of the nations they share a border with that also has a border on the Matalis isn’t paying attention and they can try to invade?”

  The King nodded again. “That’s what we believe, yes.” He paused a moment, then added in tones of steel, “And I have no intention of ever allowing them to find Andovarra failing to be vigilant.”

  Wenthe and Perx exchanged glances.

  Monoffa studied the King for a moment, and then said, “Your worry is black like a cloud pregnant with rain that has not rained in many days.”

  The King shot a perplexed look at Monoffa, and Kere explained smoothly, “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Monoffa sometimes expresses thoughts with emotional content in ways that are a little hard to understand. I think all she is saying is that she senses you are worried about something.” Kere glanced at Monoffa to ensure she’d relayed the message clearly, and the black-furred Catfolk nodded.

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  “There are always things to worry about as King,” said King Eldoran. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  Wenthe said, “I understand now why you can’t ask someone from the military to do this job, but why us, specifically?”

  Jori added, “This was our first time fighting together. We are in many ways…as yet unseasoned. Surely for a job as important as protecting your own flesh and blood, a mercenary group who has trained and fought together is a better choice?”

  The King scratched his head for a moment, saying, “Rothlan is a childhood friend of mine. I've been trying to get him to come work for me for years, but the rascal steadfastly refuses. He was the one who suggested using the winners of the Trials as my son's escorts." He then exchanged looks with Rothlan, saying, “Rothlan, perhaps you should explain.”

  Rothlan gave them a wink that was both charming and slightly mischievous. "I can't experiment around here. It's far easier for me to have my own remote laboratory. That way, if my experiments go awry, I don't blow up the Royal Palace." He then became more serious. “The Trials malfunctioned spectacularly during your run, and instead of panicking or giving up, you adapted and succeeded. That kind of flexibility under pressure is exactly what I'd want in an escort. Plus, your group's diverse skills and the fact that you're not obviously mercenaries makes this look like a royal entourage rather than a military operation.”

  Jori remained focused on the tactical implications, his ranger training showing. "Should we expect hostile contact, Your Majesty?"

  "I find it best to always expect trouble, although not necessarily hostile contact,” said the King with the pragmatism of an experienced ruler, "but assuming you’re asking whether I’m aware of a particular threat against my son's life or that of his bride, I am not."

  Neric had risen from the pianoforte when the King entered, his natural showmanship temporarily subdued by the royal presence. “How long might this grand adventure take? I need to know how epic a tale I'll have to tell!"

  Perx stepped forward, his mind already calculating logistics with typical efficiency. "Twenty days round trip by my calculations—assuming favorable winds and no delays for weather or... other complications. Then however long it takes for the couple to actually get married." He turned to the King with scholarly directness. "I beg pardon, Your Majesty, but I have spent much of my life at sea and traveled between here and Takatari several times to visit my sister.”

  He paused a moment as though weighing whether to keep speaking, then finally said, “I’d like to propose that we have at least a brief discussion of the dangers we’re likely to encounter on the way: sea monsters, bad weather, pirates, sickness, and wildshard effects. Is the ship I assume we will be taking prepared for all of that?”

  King Eldoran nodded with approval. "Then you were right to have spoken. I don't often travel by ship. You can address specific questions about preparations to Captain Rasharo, who will be taking my son and his escort to Takatari. He assured me just today that he is ready for the voyage.” His tone carried the authority of someone used to having experts advise him. "Now, what say you all? Will you aid me?"

  Kere stepped forward, then hesitated, her natural sense of what needed to be said warring with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, might we have a moment to discuss this? We hadn't prepared for... extended travel.” She shot a quick look at Jori—old habits—then caught herself and looked away, color rising in her cheeks.

  "I do apologize for the short notice," said the King, his manner brisk but not unkind, "but sadly I cannot give you long. You will have as long as it takes for me to go bring my son back here." He then exited the room with purposeful strides, two guards following after him.

  When the King left, the group instinctively formed a loose circle, though Jori and Kere remained carefully on opposite sides. Wenthe's tail lashed with excitement while Perx rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Neric rocked on his heels, clearly bursting with enthusiasm, while Jenna stood statue-still, processing the implications.

  For a moment after the King's departure, silence settled over the ornate room like dust. The magnitude of what they'd just been asked to do seemed to hang in the air between them.

  Wenthe was the first to break it, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. "Did that really just happen? Are we actually being asked to escort a prince?"

  "To his wedding," Neric added, his usual exuberance tempered by awe. "A royal wedding in a foreign kingdom. This is..." He gestured helplessly at the opulent room around them. "This morning I was planning to perform for coppers at the Withering Willow.”

  Perx adjusted his spectacles, his analytical mind working. "The political implications alone..." He shook his head. "If something goes wrong with the prince under our protection, it could affect relations between three kingdoms."

  Jenna spoke quietly, almost to herself. "We're not trained for this. We're not... we're just adventurers who happened to win a trial that went sideways."

  "That's exactly why we won," Cali said with gentle certainty. "Sometimes the gods place us where we need to be, not where we think we belong."

  Monoffa tilted her head, studying each of them in turn. "The air shimmers with possibility—threads, all tangled and bright."

  Kere looked around at her companions—this unlikely group that had somehow become a team. "A month ago, a lot of us didn't even know each other existed. Now we're being trusted with a prince's life."

  Jori nodded slowly. "The question is: are we ready for this?"

  The room fell quiet as they all looked at each other, the weight of the decision settling over them.

  "So," Kere said finally, "are we all in agreement?"

  Nods around the circle, some more enthusiastic than others, but unanimous.

  "Then it's decided," Jori said with quiet finality.