A Dream of Empire Ch. 006

According to the bard, Pinkwater Keep was situated at the far border of the county, just before reaching the Westvale mountains to the east. Talos knew the county well enough that there weren't many other settlements in the area, likely why the outlaws had set up shop there in the first place.

Still, the fact that a gambling den even existed in Catriona only meant one thing to Talos. These fiends, as Emmanuel liked to call them, at least paid their taxes. The Count of Catriona had banned all manner of gambling and prostitution more than a decade ago, and Talos figured the guard of Catriona would have come down upon Pinkwater if there wasn't money involved in the arrangement.

"So, Talos, what changed your tune?" Emmanuel asked with a smirk when their pace had slowed to a trot once more. "I barely had to convince you this time around. I'd even written a song to accompany my reasoning, as I know undeniably that you appreciate them."

Talos chuckled, giving a quick shake of his head as his gaze remained fixed on the rolling hills before them.

"Realistically? You're just a convenient excuse to leave Catriona, Em."

"Oh? An excuse for escape? To flee, to elude?" Emmanuel asked thrice.

Talos nodded. "Yep. And I got to put all the blame on you, too," he replied dryly, but in tune. Emmanuel lifted a finger from his reins, chuckling.

"I'd expect nothing less. But what ever would scare you? The lasses?"

"The lasses," Talos agreed curtly.

"Too comfortable?"

Talos squinted, shaking his head. "No, no. Too... restraining, I suppose," he admitted truthfully. "That house became a hellscape of attention seeking in the past week. Before, I would have activities to do by myself, give me my space. Blade practice in the morning, practice which Casiama suddenly realized she now had to be a part of. It's admirable, I guess. But I enjoyed that time alone. Didn't really realize it 'til it was gone."

"Sure, sure. All men need their space."

"Mhm. Then, normally I'd take a walk through the markets in the afternoon. Not to buy anything, really, just browsing. Learn a bit of what's happening outside of the city. Think, really. Lots of thinking. That is, until Alanna decided she could use a second trip to the squares each day, and started accompanying me on mine."

"Ooh. And the ponderings...?"

"Gone," Talos sighed.

Emmanuel let out a hiss of displeasure through his teeth. "Well sir, that's no good at all!"

"I'm whining far too much about it. It's not all bad, of course," Talos said with a shrug. "Everything in the bedroom is - well, it's infinitely better than you could imagine."

Emmanuel tilted his head, giving a half-smile. "Unfortunately, Talos, passion makes no accommodation for self-preservation. Do you want my advice?"

"Absolutely not."

"No matter, for I shall give it anyway," the bard retorted indignantly, causing Talos to roll his eyes. "Why don't you just tell them what you just told me?"

"Oh, that's the best part," Talos replied with a grimace, "for I know Alanna is aware how I feel, and if I told Cass, she'd think I were pushing her away. So, on the one hand I have a mage who acts on her own whim, and on the other a princess with brittle heart."

"'A Tale of Two Lasses'," Emmanuel replied whimsically. Talos put up a finger to silence him.

"Do not write of it," he warned coldly. "Anyway, I figured me being away will do just as much good for them as it will for me. What I'm away for? Well, again, just a convenient excuse."

Emmanuel tsked. "Sure. Perhaps they'll conspire against you in your absence."

Talos grimaced for a second. "Perhaps they'll... work things out, was what I was thinking."

"Perhaps one will be murdered?" the bard offered instead.

"Like I said, perhaps they'll work things out," Talos chuckled. Obviously he didn't expect anything of the sort from those two.

Talos figured his best wager in this scenario was staying out of it entirely; he couldn't imagine sharing a woman with another, let alone with someone as strong as he. It would come to blows instantaneously. The fact that it hadn't already between Casiama and Alanna proved that they were mature enough to handle their aggression through words, and perhaps come to some sort of arrangement on their own. He knew not to get involved in a spat between sorceresses, after all.

-=-=-

Talos and Emmanuel made camp on a deserted-yet-fertile hillock that evening, more than halfway across the county. The pair had made fantastic time; Talos had almost forgotten of the haste one could make on horseback when it was needed. More importantly, the ride had given him the necessary time to think. He knew Alanna was likely perusing his thoughts as he pondered them, but paid it no mind. He trusted her intrinsically.

Talos set up the campfire that night betwixt his and Emmanuel's small linen tents, the temporary abodes more suitable for the unexpected rains of the Catrionan mornings than for keeping the heat in. Judging by the fact that Emmanuel didn't have a fur tent, Talos knew the man was well-traveled. The fact that the bard was capable of keeping pace with him for an entire day of riding only sealed that assumption.

For being the boisterous man Talos knew he was, Emmanuel kept to himself for most of the ride, as well as most of the night. The bard wrote songs on parchment for the majority of the evening around the fire, softly singing the words written to himself to ensure they kept an appropriate tune. Talos wondered if he was keeping quiet for his sake, and ultimately decided to reach out to him, not something he was expecting of the journey at all.

"So, Em," Talos murmured softly between bites of hardbread, "what mishaps have befallen you in the past week? Rail another farmer's daughter? Encounter another horde of shamblers?"

Emmanuel glanced up from his papyrus after a final flourish of his quill, setting his notes to the side. The campfire illuminated the darkness between them, so Talos was able to make out the soft smirk on the bard's face.

"No and no, I'm afraid," he answered softly, raising a finger, "although, I did encounter two fine maids in Catriona. Twins, if you could believe it."

Talos could absolutely believe such a simple thing. "Yeah?"

Emmanuel nodded, although he kept his voice low. "Verily. Two unwed and fertile maids as well, Clarissa and Justina of the Ungern family. Out of Hayades, supposedly."

"Nobles?" Talos asked obviously with raised brows. Peasants didn't carry surnames.

"Indeed, indeed," the bard replied joyously, "with blue eyes as deep as the sea, golden hair like grain, and teeth as white as clouds. They were identical, Talos."

"Mhm. And I take it you bedded both on the same night," Talos smirked. Emmanuel shook his head, though his smile never waivered.

"Of course not. What do you take me for, Talos? I romanced the former, Clarissa, with wine and song one beautiful eve. She was hesitant at first, what with her glorious family history being at stake."

"Mmm," Talos mumbled. He could definitely see that.

"That is, until I mentioned I was of glorious ancestry as well," the bard explained, "as I am Sir Emmanuel, of the Cantano family."

"You?" Talos smirked.

"I!"

"Hm. Never heard of the Cantano family."

"Nor would you, for I am the first," Emmanuel exclaimed boisterously, before letting his words fall low once more. "Knighted by the King of Tardia himself even, for a faithful service as his court minstrel for the greater part of a year. The Ungerns didn't need to know that bit, however. In their eyes, my lineage extends to the dawn of the Empire, and owns quite the bit of farmland on the Tardian coast."

"Alright, so you lied to bed Clarissa," Talos guessed.

Emmanuel lifted a finger. "As it was necessary, you see!" he justified. "Only, I didn't bed Clarissa at first, as I confused those interchangable maids. Justina must have heard my stories of glory and nobility, as she rushed under my sheets before I could realize the mistake."

Talos rolled his eyes.

"Naturally I had to make it up to her sister, before she was aware of my failure of recognition. The following night, after quite the sloppy session of silent tongues by the waterfront and two bottles of wine, I repented my sins by deflowering Clarissa as well."

"Oh gods."

The bard glanced skywards. "Annnd... that was yesternight, so I have succesfully evaded the inevitable wrath of those indistinguishable maids," Emmanuel said proudly. "Quite the thrill, looking back on it."

Talos didn't reply immediately, allowing a silence to fall over the pair. He spoke gruffly after a moment, rising to his feet to retire for the night.

"You're quite the piece of work, Em."

-=-=-

Talos and Emmanuel made quicker progress on the second day than the first, and neared Pinkwater on the tip of that day's eve. The bard called for a halt and dismounted not three miles from the den of thieves, and brandished a knife from his hip.

Talos turned his horse about. "What's up?"

Emmanuel flipped the dagger in the air, catching it dextrously when it fell. Talos rolled his eyes, knowing how useless the man was with the weapon in combat. The bard brought it to his hair.

"Why, I have to conceal myself if they will allow us passage into the keep of course! They wouldn't let me in after the last time."

Talos watched the man cut half of the length of his hair from his head, and absentmindedly caressed his own in the hopes he would never have to do the same. Sure, Talos wasn't a man who particularly cared for aesthetics. But he liked his hair as it was.

He chided Emmanuel for his efforts at concealment. Surely a lesser head of hair would not convince the fiends of Pinkwater that he were a different person? Emmanuel explained his reasoning for the shedding of hair as he revealed a set of modest blue and brown clothes taken from his saddlebags.

"When you're as sought after as me, dear Talos, you learn to hide in plain sight. The fact is, to expect me is to expect a noisy man wearing noisier garb, singing gaily from horseback as I drift onward with no worries in the world."

"Can't disagree with you there, Em," Talos smirked.

"Ah, you see! But if I wear this," the bard replied, holding up his new clothes, "and I say not a word, I'm but a different person entirely." And so they traveled onward.

The den of Pinkwater Keep was far larger than Talos had anticipated; it was more of a village, really. A collection of a dozen rectangular wooden houses were dominated by a square wooden keep in the corner of the village, all surrounded by a thin palisade of wooden spikes. The gatehouse at the end of the dirt path he currently trode upon was no more than an opening in that palisade, guarded by a quartet of menacing-looking outlaws. A small river ran horizontally between Talos and that gatehouse, a shoddy bridge of wooden planks providing access to travelers over said stream.

The water flowing through that river was, unfortunately, not pink of color. Talos mused that the name of the gambling den had instead derived from the cliffs of rose quartz that towered over the small town on its north and east sides. It was obvious to him now, judging from the size of the operation, that the fiends of Pinkwater clearly did pay their taxes.

Talos - who had his sword concealed under his cloak - and an ordinary-looking Emmanuel made their way to the palisade's opening. They were barely spared two glances by the guards as they passed through, and continued on silently towards the wooden keep. Talos smirked, somewhat impressed by Emmanuel's sharp thinking. He briefly wondered how many times the bard had hidden in plain sight in the past.

They tied their horses up out front, and made their way inside. Talos crossed his arms just by the entrance, then tilted his gaze over to the grinning bard in disguise beside him.

"So. What's the plan?" Talos asked of the man glancing gleefully around the hall of the dimly-lit keep. The hall was studden with several dozen tables, both for drinking and for bones. A handful of scantily-clad wenches served three handfuls of patrons, and there were likely plenty more on the higher levels of the tower.

"I don't see the mayor lurking about anywhere. Perhaps he will show later?"

"The mayor?" Talos shrugged.

"The fiend of Pinkwater, my impatient friend," Emmanuel clarified. "We'll need to speak with him to get my coin returned."

"Right," Talos replied through a roll of his eyes. Emmanuel pointed to the stairs at the anterior of the hall, spying a wench in a short red dress ascending them.

"Well, I know how I'll pass the time," the bard explained implicitly, his eyes wide as moons. "Make yourself comfortable for a tidy minute, eh?"

"Em, I didn't come here to..." Talos began to say as Emmanuel skipped off towards revelry or ruin, seemingly uncaring of his original intentions. Or perhaps he had merely tricked Talos into coming here entirely.

Talos spent the better part of an hour strolling about the hall. There wasn't much that interested him, as he'd learned from a young age not to entrust coin to the roll of a die or the flip of a card. The wenches here, while fair, did not particularly interest him either; he had far fairer back at home.

Nor would he trust his mental faculties to the drink of Pinkwater. Where there was gambling and whores, there was likely strong drink as well, and the swordsman had gone far too long without it to start up again now. With no activities remaining to sate his appetite, Talos studied the keep instead. He located all relevant entrance and exit points to the den, he reviewed the poorly-dressed guards, noticing few held weapons which would be fatal in a fight, and he looked over the patrons as well to ensure no one would stand in his way if Emmanuel's negotiations failed.

He soon noticed a taller, red-haired gentlemen enter the hall, flanked by four lackeys carrying clubs. The man didn't wait for no one, and made his way hastily to the far end of the hall and beyond a locked door, garnering nods from the outlaws as he passed them by. Talos figured he found the fiend, and soon ascended the stairs he spied Emmanuel sauntering up an hour before.

Talos found him in the corner of the next story, his feet propped up on a table with his hands behind his head. Fortunately, still fully clothed. Two whores were performing before him, one on her knees and one standing. The one standing held the other's head in place as she pleasured her womanhood with her tongue. Talos paced over to the sight, shaking his head.

"Em, don't we have something else to do? Something important?" he asked when he neared. Emmanuel removed his feet from the table, outstreching his arms towards the half-naked whores as he turned to face Talos.

"But the wenches, Talos, you must see the wenches!" the bard exclaimed.

"I really don't," Talos shrugged. He gripped Emmanuel by the shoulder, hoisting him to his feet. Talos fished a silver Imperial from his coin pouch, flipping it idly towards the women. "Sorry, ladies. This one's busy."

"You know," Emmanuel whined as Talos pushed him towards the stairs, "I figured a man dissatisfied with their home life would find Pinkwater charming." Talos didn't bother responding. He released the bard's shoulder when they found the stairs, and Emmanuel made a show of fixing his collar when he was freed.

"Found your mayor. Ground level, door by the stairs," Talos said succinctly, nodding towards the staircase.

"Wondrous!" Emmanuel exclaimed as he descended the stairs. "Now, Talos, you just let me do all the talking. You just stand behind me and..." he glanced over to the swordsman, smirking, "eh, just stand behind me. That will suffice."

"Mhm," he grunted as he followed the bard.

The door downstairs was still closed when the men descended. Emmanuel, being the patient and humble man that he was, demanded and screamed for an audience with the mayor of Pinkwater with arms and jaw flapping about for the better part of two minutes. Sooner or later, the red-haired man must have heard him, as that door did open, and the two were led inside.

Emmanuel strode to the center of that room, which was no more than a small room with a desk on the far end and a large safe behind that. The mayor sat behind the desk, one guard each to the left and right of him. Two additional outlaws remained just outside the doorway, to prevent an easy escape. Talos found a good enough position behind the bard of blue-and-brown, and leaned as casually as he could against a pillar in the room. He kept his sword concealed.

"Well, well, well. I hardly recognized ye, jester," the mayor spoke after a brief introduction was made.

"As was to be expected, oh rancid one!" the bard replied with arms crossed. "Your laughable guards were just as fooled."

The fiend's tone grew colder upon Emmanuel's reply, if he had ever had a hint of warmth at all.

"Tell me, jester, what good did ye expect by returnin' here? And with yer own laughable guard at that?" he asked, glancing towards Talos, who remained unreadably silent as he leaned against a wooden beam with his arms folded.

"Why, I demand my rightful coin returned! All twenty pieces of gold, plus an interest of two if I may be so bold!"

Talos rolled his eyes. To be dragged here for eleven and two golden Imperials seemed asinine to him, just that much more pointless than he had originally suspected. But he held his tongue. The mayor, however, was a prideful man, and Talos knew he would never cough up the coin when he lifted himself from his chair and squinted into Emmanuel's eyes.

"An' why are you thinkin' I'd do something like that?" he asked, nay, growled of the bard. Emmanuel tsked twice, shaking his head.

"Your bones are loaded, my dear moron; I'm surprised all your patrons have not yet caught on."

The mayor curled his lip ever so slightly at the accusation, proving his guilt to Talos. "An' a jesterin' fool would continue throwin' loaded bones long into the night, wouldn't'e've?" he accused in return.

"Besides the point!" Emmanuel exclaimed.

Was it, though? Talos thought, shaking his head on instinct. Emmanuel had originally told him the fiends of Pinkwater had refused to pay him his winnings for a night of victorious gambling. He had just admitted otherwise.

Emmanuel shouted once more, waving his arms about like a fool. "I demand recompense for your-"

"My apologies, mayor, for my friend's ask of coin is misplaced," Talos interjected coldly, staring away from the red-haired man in a fleeting hope of non-escalation. "Allow us to leave in peace, and you won't hear of it again."

Talos' surprising words of peace were unexpected to the mayor's ears, and he must have thought Talos just as hapless as the bard for his next words to have made any sense. Talos would learn this lesson after the fact; he had kept his sword concealed from view and his gaze pressed elsewhere, failing to have been intimidating whatsoever. Intimidation would have likely changed the outcome of the night.

"I think not, stranger. I've a better deal. I'll let ye leave in peace, if ye leave the jester to me."

"Can't do that," the swordsman declined instantly. Emmanuel grinned, hopping in place as he glanced between the two men.

"Nor will he, for that man is-"

"Shut up, Em," Talos interjected once more. He spared a glance for the mayor, as Talos heard his footsteps creaking along the wooden slats of the room they occupied, making his way for the door. He wasn't looking back, but was smirking as if he held the upper hand here. Many lessons would be learned this day.