Chapter 88: In Enoria

Traveling through the Enorian spring was the closest Viv had felt to being on Earth since landing on this weird planet. Fields of flowers and copses of trees shone a vibrant green on either side of the dirt road. Sometimes, they came across an abandoned field or the ossified remains of a stone building that could have been an abandoned shepherd’s retreat, and she almost expected to crest a hill and find an asphalt road and a board announcing Carmaux or Marvejols in twenty kilometers. Frequent hills blocked the view, which should have set her on edge but just gave the setting a more intimate feel. The illusion lasted for a blissful ten minutes at most, then something came to break the immersion.

Strange, colorful dragonflies or butterflies with strange wing patterns reminded her of where she was. Or the white frame of a hunting Arthur would swerve in the distance. Or Marruk would turn to inspect something and she would go from funny LARPer to actual alien. Funnily enough, this did little to mar Viv’s mood. She was free of responsibility for the first time in six months. Half a year of constant pressure, decisions, and efforts now finally over. Harrak was in good hands, she believed. Solar had been very obvious about not wanting the job, which made him the best candidate. It was just her, the others, and the road. Even the weather was on their side.

They camped the first night in an abandoned farmstead. The solid compound had only been left very recently, and they found many tools and pots of low value neatly stacked in a shed. Viv surmised that someone had moved away because of the civil war out of concern for their safety. Given what she had seen in Anelton, it felt reasonable enough.

“Yes. I saw that as well,” Marruk confirmed. “In good times, people expand in good spots for villages. But in bad times they contract. People go hungry then. They throw stones and send their dogs.”

She frowned.

“Some of the new villages survive, others are lost or abandoned.”

//A mark of poor planning.

//Harrakans have and must plan their expansion properly.

//A population cannot be wasted building a village on a Frilled Roc migration path.

//Truly, the barbarians have returned to their ways.

//They will have to be taught again.

“Not by us and not any time soon,” Viv replied. She had much on her plate.

Viv spent her evening listening to Solfis reading a magical theory book from his data bank, discovering in passing that ancient scholars did not consider clarity as particularly desirable when exposing their theories. It still gave her some ideas on the next step of her training. So far, she had tossed balls of mana with symbols on it, but apparently it was possible to combine several ‘layers’ to make complex spells with various effects. She was intrigued, but it was hard to do, and harder still when alone.

They left early in the morning after a breakfast of meat skewers and tubers, courtesy of Arthur and Marruk, respectively. They came across their first village around noon and Viv realized her mistake.

She should have taken a fifth member, a face, someone smooth, because they were too memorable.

Solfis could not buy fresh bread for obvious reasons, same for Arthur. Marruk would attract too much attention this close to Kazar. As for Viv, she had auburn hair while everyone’s was black, and unique green eyes. It was possible to change one’s appearance through magic but that was a life mana domain and thus closed to her. She should have found a way to dye her hair. She should have brought a fifth person, a man. That was a mistake on her part. As it was, they had to avoid the village.

//A good thing, Your Grace.

//That way, you are not tempted.

“I am tempted by fresh bread!”

//We still have a significant amount of travel biscuits.

//Plus the roots and meat your companions find.

“Yeah yeah.”

That evening, they failed to find a house so they set camp under a particularly large pine tree. The fallen needles were softer than expected and Viv woke up smelling like corporate toilets, which was actually an improvement. They found a well later that day and used it to refresh themselves. They also came across a small convoy.

Viv had not come across any lone travelers so far, which reinforced her belief that people around were not complete idiots. The convoy must have had some sort of scout because they detected her presence before she could see them, though she knew of their presence thanks to Arthur. She was asked to stand at a respectable distance across a clearing by a bunch of nervous hunters with bows, which Viv was fine with. The convoy itself looked rather cheap. It was mostly villagers on their makeshift carriages accompanied by the town’s guards, carrying food and bales of wool. The few women present wore long skirts and braided hair that popped out of shawls. Conservative stuff. Viv and her companions were studiously ignored.

“Wartime measures?” She asked.

//They must expect bandits, Your Grace.

“I would think that the prince cleaned the place on his way here.”

As soon as she said that, she knew her opinion was stupid.

“There are always more bandits when an army just fell apart,” Marruk said.

//Especially if government rules are stringent.

“You sound disapproving, Solfis. I thought you would prefer stringent rules.”

//A path of salvation must be offered so the surviving meatbags may redeem themselves.

//Otherwise, the victor must deploy light cavalry and hounds.

//And exterminate the resistance.

//I disapprove of half measures.

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

//I am ever happy to offer you a chance to learn, Your Grace.

//In any case, we should expect bandits.

On the third day, they found a suspicious tree across the path while they were moving through a large patch of wood. Viv took one good look and almost groaned.

“Isn’t this too obvious?”

“I agree,” Marruk said, then her face froze and Viv’s sight was suddenly blocked by thick steel. There was a ping.

“Archers!” the Kark said. Viv had felt the danger as well. She dismounted quickly and placed her roundshield in front of her. There was a man standing in the distance. She had not seen him. His expression was one of pure terror. Other ruffians in stained gambesons and dirty shirts were rushing her now.

“No! Wait! Run!” The man said. “It’s her! The Great Black Whore!”

The handful of outlaws slipped on the gravelly earth in an attempt to reverse course, cries of dismay echoing through the empty woods. The archer was already fleeing.

//Your Grace.

“I know. Purge net!”

They didn’t run fast enough.

Black mana was not the most flexible but it sure worked at what it did. Killing, to begin with. Cutting down trees into logs worked as well. If that whole evil imperialistic overlord schtick didn’t pan out, Viv could always start a sawmill. Didn’t even need the mill.

“I think that should do it?” she asked Marruk. The Kark frowned disapprovingly.

“One more layer.”

“We have dragonfire.”

“One more layer!”

“Fiiiiiiine.”

All bodies had to be disposed of or risk rising as revenants, and Viv didn’t have Neriad’s powers to give peace. The god had sent a tinge of sadness after she had prayed for forgiveness, but it looked like conflict between members were rather common and so she wasn’t excommunicated yet. In any case, she was not part of his clergy. They had to burn the corpses. Viv took comfort in the belief that the lice would burn as well.

“Squee?” Arthur finally asked from the stump on which she throned.

“One more layer.”

Work

Faster

Want

Hunt

Explore

Observe

“You could always help, you know?”

Help

With fire!

“Yes, yes, one moment.”

They soon had a pyre going. It smelled disturbingly meaty.

“Five silver talents, a hundred iron ones. They were probably waiting to save enough so they could start over somewhere else,” Marruk observed.

Viv split the money between herself and Marruk. Arthur didn’t get anything on account of having done nothing at all! The rest were battered weapons, filthy pieces of cloth and wine Viv wouldn’t have used to clean her windows. Slim pickings.

“Maybe we’ll get luckier next time,” Marruk said,

“I hope there isn’t a next time! Wait. Marruk. Did you ever hunt outlaws to steal their stuff?”

“Well. It’s not stealing if they’re outlaws, right? It’s, errr, liberating. Outlaws are not protected by law, by definition.”

Viv was starting to think that the Kark’s trip through human lands had been a bit bloodier than she let on.

Whatever.

The journey went on until Viv finally came to miss her comfy bed and regular breakfasts after another week on the saddle. It had rained for a full day when they had finally moved north to avoid the major hub of Reixa, a city where everyone likely knew who she was. She had used a colorless shield to stay dry which was, she had to admit, completely awesome, but the cold and humidity could not be fended off that easily. The relative absence of signs and posts meant that finding their way was delicate without stopping at any of the many farming villages now dotting the plains. Thankfully, Marruk was talented at finding direction, skilled as well. And easy to get along with, which mattered when even the handful of monsters ran away rather than provide an amusing diversion. Viv breathed with relief when they arrived at the border town of Koltis, which sat happily at the crossing between northern and southern Enoria. The many villages on the way had been spared most of the horrors of war, and laborers of all ages busied themselves in the fields, plowing and seeding for this year’s harvest. Songs filled the air.

“Looks like they’ve been left untouched, just like Farren said,” Viv commented as she put on her ‘incognito’ cloak which was dark blue and velvety with a silver brooch.

“There are few people who would mess with the town. It’s not worth angering so many churches.”

The troop transports that ended in the deadlands paused in Koltis, and most of the churches had a strong presence here, with the guards that came with it. It was when they came across a caravan of ‘merchants’ that Viv guessed the second part of the city’s function.

“Smugglers,” she commented.

“Not even hiding,” Marruk added, “means that it’s safer to look like smugglers and they’re more afraid of bandits than guards.”

//Frontier towns between two countries that do not trade officially tend to attract this sort.

//As well as spies and other operatives.

“I don’t think we can avoid going there. We’re out of supplies. We should not linger, though.”

//Agreed.

//We must save my reserves for as long as possible.

//There will be no easy opportunity to recharge me.

The roads were packed for the first time ever. People in simple garb were bringing flocks of the large egg-making birds Viv had seen in Kazar, but also cornudons and other animals Viv had never seen before and that looked like oversized rams. A group of children ran by them, laughing all the way. Koltis came into view soon after.

The town sat atop a lone hillock in the middle of a flat valley, with a brook flowing lazily in the distance. Walls surrounded a village of tall houses, while an actual castle dominated the view. Viv could spot the shine of steel and siege engines from here so the reason why people left the place alone was not just because of its influence. Nobody paid the party any mind, especially with Arthur flown somewhere else for the day. The lack of danger made the dragonette positively greedy, and she hunted with diligence. The gates were opened and a line had formed by its side. Viv considered stopping but Marruk shook her head.

“We look rich so we must act the part. No self-respecting caster would queue with peasants, even a wild one, and we have horses to boot.”

They moved on to the short queue, ending behind a carriage of respectable size bearing the symbol of a black gate. Viv recognized a dignitary of Enttiku, the God of Death. They were let in immediately.

“You guys merchants?” a guard asked. He spoke with a lazy voice and was using his polearm as a walking stick, but Viv was not fooled. The man had keen eyes and he was inspecting them. She pulled in her soul. No need to cause a scene. It didn’t look like this place liked scenes, or asking names for that matter.

Stolen novel; please report.

“No, we’re travelers,” Viv replied.

“You with anyone?” he asked, and Viv suspected that the question was loaded.

“No, just passing through,” and because the man frowned just a bit, she added more to be safe.

“We were hoping to find the local branch of the Manipeleso Bank and Exchange.”

“You got a chit?”

Viv obliged, foraging in her cleavage to find the damn pendant. The doorman relaxed when he saw proof.

“Standing rate is half a silver per rider. No fees on horses or luggage for bank guests. It’s your first time here?”

“Yes.”

“The bank is in the royal square. Can’t miss it. Just follow the main road until you see the statue of a twat on a horse, and I’m not saying anything but don’t try to sell anything without approval or you’ll catch a steel-based stomach-ache, mage or not.”