B2 – Chapter 37: Traveling to the front

Tristan rode up alongside Prince Merrill and Marineaux, his essence-weaver. The woman glanced sideways at him, giving him a slight nod, but the prince did not acknowledge his presence in the slightest way. Tristan returned Marineaux’s nod and relaxed in the saddle for the day’s ride.

They stopped their travel a handful of times – soldiers riding out from the main force while they came to a stop. The outriders were hunting down survivors from the attempted siege. They returned with bloodied blades and less arrows than when they had departed. Tristan felt a slight pit in his stomach, knowing that these men were treating their foes with ruthless efficiency.

It gave Tristan the opportunity reflect on his own recent actions. I did not kill many, he thought, only really stopping them from murdering prisoners and then giving those prisoners a chance to escape. None of the siege crews were slain by my hand. Obadai is the reason most of the army is dead – but I suppose that is for the best. Better the attacking force be wiped out than a prolonged siege and then open battlefield fight between the two factions.

Prince Merrill walked over to Tristan, and he had a frown on his face, but had the look of defeat about his countenance. “I wanted to…apologize, Lord Tristan…you and your Archon’s help was invaluable. I was…quick to judge you harshly for the destruction of my city.”

Tristan stood up from his seated position on the ground, and ran a gauntleted hand along Onyx’s neck. “Apology accepted. Cities can be rebuilt, but the people cannot be. A city are its people, and its people are its heart.”

“You Elves are wise,” Merrill replied. “And your plan did ensure the people survived. And the garrison was practically unharmed, minus a handful of archers killed during the retreat movement. Why not have them return to the keep immediately?”

Tristan shook his head, “That would have alerted the attackers to the trap. Lure them in with some challenge, however, and you keep them engaged.” He sighed, “I wish Obadai did not have to obliterate that large force, but I put my lot in with you, and we’ll see that through.”

Marineaux walked over to Merrill, leaned up to his ear, and whispered – which Tristan could hear thanks to his heritage. “My liege, the men could use a pep talk.”

He smiled, nodded slightly at Tristan, and then turned away. But Marineaux remained and gave Tristan a quizzical eyebrow raise, “You did not tell him about your age, grandchild of Hurvun?”

Tristan shrugged, “No point in making him panic. Let him believe what he wants.” He turned to Onyx and reached into the saddle bags, pulling out a brush and setting to the manual task to keep himself occupied.

Marineaux walked to his side, “I am not a mighty essence-weaver. Nowhere near your Archon. How did you come by him being in your service?”

“He helped me, I helped him. And I am still helping him get back to his homeland,” Tristan replied. He looked sideways at the woman, “How come?”

“A powerful man like that could make a big difference anywhere he chose to dwell. Sure, such a powerful spell may put him out of commission for a good while yet, but there are so many places he could rule just by virtue of raw power. Not to mention the Citadel of Essence if he chose to teach there and pass on his prowess…why does he stick with you? A young man by human years, let alone Elf years.”

“I’m taking him home in my travel,” Tristan replied.

“And where do you travel to after you get your contract?”

“Well,” Tristan replied as he walked over to Midnight and began brushing the mare’s neck, “Next will be the south of Klaktol to trade a bit. Then over to Schlarz for more of the same. But my destination is going to be Yustat. My half-brother deserves to inherit since my father’s demise.”

She nodded and looked at him with a curious expression. “You said you are the Lord of the Fey Realm…so you have been beyond the Mortal Realm?”

“A few times,” Tristan replied. “Well, two different ones. A Delve back on Gvand, and the Fey Realm.”

“Would you be willing to take visitors to your Realm? Provided you can travel rapidly, that is.”

Tristan shook his head, “Sorry, but I do not trust your Prince enough for that, given his…tempestuous attitude and demeanor towards me.”

She deflated slightly but nodded tersely, “I understand. Well, we shall meet up with the army and then march on Prince Roland’s castle – provided he did not die during the battle in the city. But the man is just as cowardly as Merrill.”

“You speak ill of your liege?”

She scoffed and nodded, “He wasn’t going to come out here, if you recall. Just stay holed up and let his armies fight. A spoiled brat, just like his brother. The difference is that Roland is worse than Merrill. Hence why I chose the side I did. The kingdom would suffer under Roland’s fist. Cruel boy that he was – torturing cats from a young age, that one.”

Tristan finished brushing both horses manes and put the brush away. “Well, I’ll help how I can – especially if it can eliminate excess bloodshed.”

“Not a conqueror?”

Tristan let out a slight, barking laugh. “Hah! …No. I do not seek glory, or fame, or recognition. Even this contract I am doing all of this for – I’m only obtaining it because the admiral of my burgeoning merchant fleet insisted.”

“A lord with no aspirations of grandeur? Not very lordly.”

Tristan shrugged, “There’s never been a lord like me.” The temporary camp began to pack up from their short midday stop, and Tristan gestured to Midnight, “You are welcome to ride her if you like.”

Marineaux shook her head and curtsied slightly, “Thank you, but I must ride with my liege. And I see no bit or bridle.”

Tristan shrugged, “Suit yourself.” He turned around and looked at his two steeds who had walked up next to him, side by side. “Alright you two – Midnight, you’re going to carry me for a bit, give Onyx some rest.”

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Midnight whinnied and shook her mane, and Onyx let out a short neigh almost like he was chuckling. Tristan mounted up and guided Midnight with his thighs as he rejoined the departing force.

Evening came, the group made camp, and Tristan was offered a spare tent. He rejected the offer, and instead traveled to the Fey Realm using his ring, staying the evening there. Before dawn, he returned – leaving Midnight behind in the Fey Realm, as he only needed the one horse. Re-appearing in The Mortal Realm already mounted atop Onyx, he spun his essence-crucible and activated the stored Spoken Message: Half-Realm spell in his ear-cuff. “Felicity? Obadai?”

“Yeah,” Obadai replied weakly. “I’m here.”

“So am I!” Felicity said.

“And me,” Admiral Yokain added.

“Oh so that’s how this works,” Shandra also added.

“Right,” Tristan replied, “Forgot it’s a network. Okay, well, good news – we spoke to Prince Merrill, got the contract…but I’m finishing a war. Obadai is recovering from a huge spell – he can fill you in more. Felicity, tell the arm-”