Chapter 25: Managing Their Paths

Sammy spent the morning doing a bit of flitting around, micromanaging things among her Followers. Basic checking in, making sure their REX made sense, adjusting if necessary, and helping them through the day.

Orswyth got up early and kept pressing hard down the road, but fortunately, he was on horseback. She made sure he was as alert as possible with the blessing she gave, and she hoped the curse that would come upon him would wait a little longer.

She checked in with Bast and found that Greizer had indeed left, and preparations were underway to get out of there. It would take some time, so Sammy didn’t press him too much on where he wanted to go, just mentioned a little more about what was brewing. He was intrigued when she briefly mentioned Azure’s story, though Geirkos was a destination he was none too sure about.

Desiring to ensure she had all that she needed of the runebooks, she went ahead and had Bast get the others and copied them over to her, expending the 3 FE necessary.

1 FE (Mirrors, Illusion) obtained from worship. Converted to Illusion FE.

1 FE (Mirrors, Illusion) obtained from worship. Converted to Illusion FE.

The diligence of the cynical pragmatists! Who could’ve imagined!

She asked Merril whether her speed at the runebooks was fast, to which he was annoyed and said she was a natural. He also told her that runes got easier after the first one in a book because they were interconnected, but it wouldn’t translate to the next. The scripts in the back were combinations only fully readable with all six runes. Test fragments of spells. Reading through them triggered the completion of the runebook.

Azure was up relatively early despite how late she was up. She prayed extensively for guidance and favor, meditated on the words her goddess had spoken to her, and gave praise for the same things. She played a flute in worship, as well as sang songs she already knew, but either simply directed at Samantha in meaning, or altered very slightly. One that Sammy listened in on was something about sailing to a mysterious love.

Each thing, Azure seemed to check in, presenting it and making sure her goddess approved. Sammy let her do her thing, blessing her for it in the process as further encouragement. She kept the buff light, avoiding the creativity boost she’d given Bast. Blissful, peaceful feelings.

As Azure did this, Sammy checked in at her former abode. It was in a frenzy of activity, servants and many guests subdued. She caught sight of Lord Andemen, a fairly handsome, tan-skinned, bearded, middle-aged man with a king’s presence and an actor’s charisma. He radiated fury as he ordered everyone about. Search parties. A trip to the docks. No one was leaving until she was found. Those that had failed him had best hope she was, and soon…

Underestimating her, hmm? I bet the ship isn’t even on the books. Showing up at night, probably any watchman drunk and unconscious or worse. He was caught with his pants down on this one. Annnd I wish those particular figurative words hadn’t formed in my brain to characterize it…

1 FE (Mirrors, Illusion) obtained from [Devout] worship. Converted to Illusion FE.

7 out of 25. Nice.

When Sammy reported the reality of her former lover’s intentions to Azure, she was subdued and withdrawn about it. Everything about it was obviously difficult for her to process and extremely raw, so Sammy left it at that instead of saying what she inevitably needed to realize or hear: that one day she might end up having to face him. Face him and tell him to fuck off.

Mr. Smooth Operator is going to have a honeyed tongue for her if he catches up after Geirkos. He’s angry now but I bet he’s cold and calculating normally. Probably will try to play on her weaknesses, promise her the world and the moon again. On top of everything else, she’s gonna have to be ready for that potential ‘it’s over’ speech.

At least, that’s what Sammy had learned from soap operas, romcoms, and varying quality romance-centric books, which were entirely accurate reflections of reality, of course. There were no random shirtless buff dudes or hot swimsuit scenes — Okay, I did one, but if a swimsuit scene splashes in the woods and no one’s around to see it, is it still hot? — but that did make it easier to focus on the nuts and bolts. And Azure was dedicated to a higher calling: her.

Yep, the goddess thing is getting to my head a bit, clearly, because I just thought that. Anyway! It doesn’t matter, because she needs time to focus on herself and I have to protect her. And there can still be a Follower hottie pool party down the roa- alright, moving on now…

Checking in with Estara and mentioning Dax, she found that the servant girl was eager but emphasized caution for the next few days due to all the extra people around. Leaving would be better after that, even if she didn’t have an escort. Sammy didn’t really like that last possibility, but she instructed Dax to just go directly to Caneboro and they’d retrieve Estara later. Dax was fine with this, as she could probably pull a favor to send someone else for her.

It would be an estimated three more days to Caneboro with the indirect route, thanks to the magic of the endurance buff, which increased speed and effective travel time, making it even better than the standard pace on horseback down the crappy but present, mostly dirt roads.

Sammy crammed in another runebook session, knocking another rune out, this time while lounging by her pool in a cushioned chair with a mint-chocolate milkshake that never melted on hand. Meditation… in style!

Around midday, she got a ‘prayer alert’ from Orswyth, so she zipped out back to her throne and connected back with him mentally.

“What was that, again, Baron?”

“Good day, Your Majesty. I’ve encountered the band that Sir Galynth and Captain Hagrin are leading.” He seemed slightly annoyed. “They were marching back in support of the now fallen fort despite orders not to in the message sent. Creative interpretation of loyalties. I met an advance scout, and am headed to meet them.”

“Oh. Can you… place your mirror in such a way for me to observe? On your horse perhaps?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

After a time, she found the baron’s hand mirror looking out from a hastily tied-up rigging on his horse’s saddle, and then spied the baron himself, looking haggard, his armor but for his breastplate removed for ease of travel. He also was leaning on a staff — what she realized was one of the spears that had its head chopped off. It was interesting… he could’ve simply taken a spear. There had to have been plenty.

Two men approached, leading horses into the baron’s vicinity. One was clearly Sir Galynth, in fine, shining plate but his helmet removed, showing an ash-gray face and vibrant orange eyes, with a shock of white hair on his head. He seemed relieved to see Orswyth. Overjoyed, though also with a slight reluctance or uncertainty.

The other man was older and much shorter than the other two, with short gray hair and beard, and a scarred face only a mother could love. A very old mother, at that. He looked fierce and humorless and battle-hardened. There was zero emotion evident at seeing Orswyth.

They both bowed, hand over their chest. Hagrin just murmured, “My lord.”

Galynth had a little more to say. “My lord Baron! Thank the stars you are well. I feared the worst!” His accent was unusual, and nothing Earthly. He had the awkward air of someone that wanted to go and get a hug in but knew it wasn’t appropriate. He had an awkward air in general.

“Thanks the gods, more like,” Orswyth said, glaring at them both in equal measure. “And why were you even coming this way? I told you to stay there and support the war efforts.”

Galynth seemed bewildered. “Gods, wha-... as to the other, ah-”

“We did as instructed, my lord,” Hagrin said placidly, in a scraggly voice. “Most of the forces were left in support while this small, investigative band was dispatched to see what became of our homeland.”

“And you think that is a spiritually-sound interpretation of my instructions, Captain? Horseshit.” He looked abashed right after he said it, eyes sliding toward the mirror to murmur very low, “Forgive me, Your Majesty…”

Sammy facepalmed briefly. The irony of someone apologizing for cursing to Goddess Pottymouth, here. Or maybe Pottybrain?

Galynth and Hagrin exchanged a confused glance, but Hagrin stepped forward, planting his feet and raising his head up. “I take full responsibility for misinterpreting your instructions, my lord.”

But Galynth stepped forward too, imitating the captain, though he made a military salute to his forehead in addition. “Me too, sir- My lord! I am just as guilty of being worried about what fate befell you!”

Hagrin side-eyed the younger man in annoyance but said nothing.

The baron sighed longsufferingly. “Punishments would be appropriate, but that is not relevant any longer. Lowbarrow has fallen. Everyone else in the fortress is dead. I should’ve been dead too but for a miracle. By which, I slew the black knight mercenary, the King of Murder himself, as a last heroic deed, blessed by… by fate. And more. But that is all I shall say.”

He forestalled their questions or comments with a hand. “Know that we are betrayed by our own liege! Baron Gerehart and the Count have conspired to take the land from me. I’ve forsworn them and the land they gave over to plunderers. Know that I am cursed and I cannot lead you any longer. I am not a baron anymore. You must decide for yourselves what you’ll do, as must all the other men. I free you of your oaths. Swear them to the new lord, or whatsoever you wish.”

They were stunned and shocked speechless for a long spell, the only sound being the wind whipping at their cloaks.

“But what of my- my estate? The people hired?” Galynth asked, his face lost.

Orswyth sighed again, shaking his head. “Few would challenge such a place. A wizard would be needed, for one. In the immediate, it’ll be ignored. You could hole up and wait, swear to the new lord when the time comes. Only… they may question your loyalties. Summon you out from there, inevitably, then murder you. I’m afraid I cannot suggest trusting who will demand your knee, knight. Baron Gerehart is a snake. I’m… sorry, Galynth. Truly, I am.”

“I’ll swear to a crocodile before I swear to him,” Hagrin said with a mild sneer. “Only another backstabbing piece of shit would find common ground to stand on, and just long enough for one to stab the other.” He leaned down to spit on the ground. “I’ll pass. And, my lord, I ask you not steal my honor. You already paid me for the summer, so I owe you the summer. My sword and my horse will follow you wherever until that’s done. Otherwise, you steal my honor.”

The two old fighters stared eye-to-eye for a long spell.

Not wanting to be potentially the reason or part of the reason for the lord losing one of his last friends, Sammy quickly sent to Orswyth, “We’ll make it work, Orswyth. You don’t have to cut everyone out. I don’t want that.”

The lord looked away, apparently lost in thought and deeply uncomfortable. But he finally met the soldier’s eye again and just nodded, to which the other man returned just as simply.

Sammy felt a little tension ease in her Follower, as if some dread that had tightened him into a knot had loosened at least a smidge. He was still struggling with hope, with what he faced ahead, despite his fervent faith. She’d just made it a little easier to believe, perhaps, even if he loathed the idea of needing help.

Galynth had been staring off at nothing, toward the mirror, though he also had observed the two. Suddenly, his face grew firm, like a fire lighting up, and he dropped to a knee, head bowed and arm crossed over his chest toward the former baron.

“My lord!” Galynth said with passion, voice clearly channeling his class. “Baron or not, I’d be dead if not for you, if not for your compassion for an undeserving fool! I will follow you and serve you still, where’er you go, for that is what a true knight would do. I have much to learn, and power to gain. One day I will return and take this land back, in your name! I will avenge you and rule as you did, with justice and righteousness!”

Orswyth looked down at Galynth with a pained expression, caught in a mix of emotions. He shook his head, though, and Sammy did not think it was going to go the same way, because Orswyth felt he’d be dragging the youth down…

The lord opened his mouth to speak, then far stranger words than any expected were uttered, words as if from an echoing abyss called into by divine and profane tongues. “My fate is sealed for the choice I made; for the chance at fate is this price paid.” His eyes glowed balefully as he seemed paralyzed, and the wind swirled as the last echoing of the voices resounded.

“No!”

The image of the upside-down Strength card appeared above his head, glowing, spinning quickly then stopping, before flashing into light that then cascaded down into him as he cried out.

Sammy did not catch the immediate chaos of things after, as the horse panicked and began bolting. The mirror bounced several times and dropped into the grass, and all she heard was the yelling of men and equine terror, blind but to the sky above.

But she could feel it, in her Follower. The baleful weakness suffused him like the world was draped onto his shoulders, like infinite heaviness pulled him down. Like a curse — the price for precious mortal life to continue.

If he even could.

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