“The prince,” Argonath says, “wants us to get you and your cohort under a longer-term contract, not just the specialist short-term agreement.”
“Anything longer than six months and that covers anyone besides Benger and me is going to take some negotiation,” Emlyn shrugs, “I’ll have to discuss that with our Temple and our Goddess and the rest of my cohort, once they’re back in Harito. If you wanted to do something time-limited as a trial, say a year, that would be an easier starting point and would allow us both to see how this might work over a longer term. Then there’s pay. I’ve seen Benger’s contract, and he’s worth more than that. He’ll be worth more still once we’re all done training. I’ve got a lot of training to do with my cohort that will be going on during the upcoming year, and we’ve already got a lot of tasks laid out for us, either by the Goddess or our Order. Our schedule is fairly full, and that’s assuming that we don’t get assigned other things, like this Divaros thing.”
“What sort of tasks?” Argonath asks, “Perhaps this is something where we can... cooperate.”
“It might be possible,” Emlyn says doubtfully, “but you’ll likely have to go back to the prince and the royal exchequer.”
Argonath gestures for her to proceed, so Emlyn launches into the potion expansion plans, “We need quite a bit of space to expand our potion-making operation, ideally adjacent to where the Temple is now. We’ll need space to expand the living quarters at the Temple, as well, to accommodate the incoming staff for the scale-up of the potion making, which is also adjacent to the Temple and ideally near the potion facility. We might be able to make a deal to give the King’s Guard first access to any excess we produce. Pricing for that would depend on how much or how little of the expansion is funded by the Temple. That’s something we can probably negotiate for, but not today. I’m not prepared with costs and other information I’d need to reach an agreement.”
Argonath makes some notes, “What else?”
“We need access to the river so we can harness waterpower to help with many of the things we have coming up, like an expansion of our smithy and adding glassmaking for the potion bottles. We’ll need the help of an architect and builders for this. This is something that we might be able to overbuild and share space with the King’s Guard, the crown, or both for a time, at least. Then we get into the issue of what to do with everyone that this displaces. We’d like to see if we can’t employ at least some of the people that we’ll be displacing in these new enterprises. The area around our Temple isn’t wealthy, and nearby employment with decent pay and housing might be welcome. The displacement of homes and businesses will need to be handled gently, or we’ll create a lot of resentment. It might even involve rebuilding a neighborhood or two.”
“I can see that,” Argonath nods, “It might be possible. If it is, those are certainly things where either the crown or the King’s Guard or even both could be helpful.”
“This whole thing will have some challenges to work through,” Emlyn continues, “Our priorities might not always align. As a religious order, our Goddess’s priorities are the priorities for us. Anything else is secondary. Our methods won’t always align. You can’t ask us to do anything that violates or even skirts our oaths. I’ll get you a copy of them. We’ll need time off for our religious observances and prayer. They’re necessary for us to maintain our bond with our Goddess, and that’s essential to our magic. My cohort and I will also spend a significant amount of time either watching or participating in tournaments over the next year. We’ll need time off for that, too, as well as time to train and prepare for them. I’m probably overlooking a few things, but this is what I see, off the top of my head. It’s going to take some discussions and probably some trial and error to figure out how all this is going to work.”
“Those seem like issues we can solve,” Argonath nods, “What else?”
“We’ll need to train together, because we don’t fight the same way,” Emlyn explains.
“What do you mean that we don’t fight the same way?” Argonath asks.
Emlyn gestures to Atres, “You wear that flimsy leather. The shorter answer is that I don’t want to see anyone hurt because one of us forgets to block an arrow that would normally bounce off our heavier armor. After all, if it hits one of you instead, it will go right through that leather. The longer answer is that I can do things in my plate that you can’t do in that leather. I’m used to wearing some serious kit. I started wearing it when I was six years old. I was fighting in it when I was eight and haven’t stopped since. Once Lokrag has my new plate ready, I’ll invite you to the Temple and we’ll have a bit of a rematch so I can demonstrate.”
Argonath nods and scribbles more notes.
“If you’re planning to enter tournaments,” Argonath says, “Do you have mounts for that?”
“Not yet,” Emlyn shrugs, “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that. We’ll likely venture into horse breeding at some point, but that’ll be yet another expansion because our stables are already over capacity.”
“We might be able to arrange something with the royal stables to help with that,” Argonath says, “Now about that four-month extension...”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Kethas sees the door open and Emlyn steps in, beaming. Behind her, Atres is grinning, and Benger is laughing.
“What’s all this then?” Kethas asks.
“I might have just out weaseled that weasel Argonath,” Emlyn grins, “Even if we only get half of what I asked for, it’s still a significant reduction in the expenses to the Temple for a lot of the expansions I want to undertake, along with a significant amount of help carrying them out. The contracts have been extended, and Argonath thinks it’s his idea. Benger even got a pay boost, in the bargain.”
Kethas eyes Emlyn, “And what did you get out of all that, girl?”
Emlyn grins wickedly for a moment. “I talked Argonath into letting me punch him again.”
Kethas roars with laughter.
“I also got these,” Emlyn says, setting the box down on the table.
Since Emlyn is practically dancing with excitement, Kethas is curious.
“I can’t believe that he just let me have them. I’ve only ever seen two of these, and even then, they were assigned to the most senior members of the order at the time. There are at least a dozen of them here, more than enough, if they’ll all still work, for our entire cohort to have one. I’d like to explore the possibility of producing more of them. I hope it’s possible.”
“But what are they?” Kethas asks, “They don’t look like much.”
“It takes a paladin to power them,” Emlyn says, “My people’s name for them means something like Paladin’s Halo. It focuses our aura into something a bit more substantial than it normally is and can let us link them together to become something stronger still.”
“Why wouldn’t it be possible to make more of them?” Benger asks, “They don’t seem complicated.”
“These are really old. These were made before the Gods’ War,” Emlyn says, “Magic was… different then, stronger. I know that you said the flash of truth doesn’t start working for paladins now until the third or fourth year, and that healing doesn’t start working until the first year or so. When I was first consecrated, healing would start working for new paladins within a few days after being consecrated, and the flash of truth would occur within a few tendays. I set my first Mark on someone about three years after I was consecrated. Now, I’m told that paladins can’t do that until they’ve served for decades. I’m no mage, so I can’t explain why it’s different, but I know it to be true.”
“Let me get what you asked for earlier,” Kethas grins, with a nudge to Atres. Returning, Kethas hands Atres a picnic basket and an old blanket.
“Come on, lass,” Atres says, “We’ll head up to the park outside the palace and I can point out different parts of the city, since you can see most of it from there.”
“I’m a bit done in from that bout with Veni,” Emlyn says, “Do you mind if we take a carriage instead of walking?”
“Not at all,” Atres grins, “I rather enjoyed the last carriage ride with you.”
Blushing hotly, Emlyn darts up the stairs. Sorting through her items, she finds a small pin made of twisted wire that she bought at the fair because the way it was woven into loops and whorls reminded her of her tattoo.
Kethas looks at Atres, who explains that Nia had tipped the driver a gold ducat to get them to the King’s Guard HQ as quickly as possible and ended up in his lap when the driver launched the carriage into motion to try to earn it. Kethas grins a bit but shakes a finger at Atres, “Be mindful of her… sensibilities.”
“Oh, I am,” Atres replies resolutely, “If I weren’t, her being taken as tribute wouldn’t be an issue. I’d have settled that already, if for nothing else than her safety, but as things are what they are, I still stand here, stuck between the dragon and the deep blue sea.”
Atres hears her step on the stairs and smiles, turning. “Fy lleidr bach, are your ears still bewitchingly pink, or are you ready to go?”
Blushing again, Emlyn stands in front of Atres, “I’m told that it’s customary here for a woman to give the man courting her a token to wear. I got this at the fair because it reminds me a bit of my people’s artwork. I thought… I thought you might wear it.”
“Let me see, lass,” Atres says gently and takes it from her. Deciding quickly, he removes the pin that keeps his neck scarf in place and re-pins it with the one Emlyn’s given him.
“It’s not as nice as the one you just put in your pocket,” Emlyn says, blushing again.
“It means a thousand times more,” Atres says softly, “There isn’t a man alive with a brain in his head that wouldn’t rather have this and wear it proudly instead of that old thing. Now, let’s go have a picnic… hmm…”
The carriage pulls up to the park, and the trio piles out. Near the palace, it’s a place of grassy, well-manicured lawns. Further out from the castle walls, it’s a bit more cultivated. The park unfolds like a living tapestry of cultivated elegance and wild charm. This verdant expanse, once a hunting preserve for the noble line of Harito, now serves as a tranquil haven for reflection, ceremony, and quiet diplomacy. Winding gravel paths meander through groves of silver-leafed twardharci trees, their branches whispering in the breeze like the voices of old courtiers. At the heart of the park lies the Mirror Basin, a still, circular pool said to reflect not only the sky above but the true intentions of those who gaze into it. Statues of past dukes and duchesses, carved from red-veined white so-called Storm Crow marble stand sentinel along the promenade, their eyes fixed on the distant mountains. In the spring, the air is often perfumed with the scent of dotara blossoms, when the park becomes a riot of color and song, during the Spring Festival.
The great hill offers a commanding view of the countryside and the surrounding city. It’s a popular place to come and get a bit of sun, when the weather cooperates this time of year. Atres pays the driver and hunts around for a space away from everyone else, but that still has a good view. Spreading out the blanket, he helps Emlyn to sit, then places the basket to hold down a corner of the blanket. Stretching out himself, he leans on one elbow as he starts pointing out the various areas of the city.
High up on the walls above them, one of the guards frowns down at the trio and stops a passing page, “Go and tell Abato that I think the woman he wanted us to watch for is in the park.” The boy scampers off.
The page peeks shyly into Abato’s lair, and Hrogarth looks up. “Well, what is it, boy?”
“The guards said to tell you that they think the red-headed woman Abato asked about is in the park.”
Abato looks thoughtful for a moment and waves a hand at Hrogarth. Nodding, Hrogarth follows the boy back to the guard who spotted Emlyn. Crossing his arms, Hrogarth watches the trio for a while and sighs, muttering to himself, before stomping off to tell Abato the bad news.
Abato looks up from his maps and papers when Hrogarth returns. “It’s her, alright. I don’t think she’s coming here to see you, though. She was there with Benger and Atres. They seem to be having a picnic.”
“Damn the luck,” Abato grimaces, “I’ll have to try to find a way to get her to come here without him.”
Atres Watch:
Paperwork Protest:
"REJECTED. These are not 'inventory.' They are divine instruments of thumping! Also, the scribe spelled 'Morrighu' with only one 'r' in the draft. If you’re going to document a Goddess, show some respect or she’ll turn your ink to tar. I’ve attached a drawing of a dragon eating a tax collector to the back of this form for clarity."
Boltir's Tip Jar:
What do you think of her plan to get her ten stone out of Argonath?