Chapter 3

“Absolutely not.” Garman said, not even slowing as he pushed past the annoying blond and made his way down the street.

“I wasn’t asking your permission! We’re going to see the City Lord together, you’re lucky I’m even considering bringing you along.” Quentin said, crossing her arms together and staring daggers at the large man.

The years had barely touched the stunning young woman. The twenty-seven-year-old blond was as beautiful as ever. Combined with her booming trading business, it made her one of the most eligible bachelorettes in Illyria.

‘Too bad the years haven’t done anything about her bossy attitude.’ Garman thought, spinning around and pointing a finger at Quintin’s face.

“You bringing me along? Gods above, how has no one thrown you off one of those rotten tubs you call a ship? I’m here on the Earl’s orders, not yours. You can stay here, safe, and out of my gods damned sight, until I bring Junior back. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you see him before we head back to Brookmoor.” Garman growled out, frustration oozing out of his tone.

“And how are you going to do that without my help? Hmm? Swim? Either I come or you can kiss your passage home goodbye.” Quentin retorted, not backing down.

“Then we’ll swim! Even if I have to strap Junior onto my back and paddle my way across the ocean, it would be worth it to now have to put up with you!” Garman roared, his face flushing red with anger.

“You aren’t being reasonable, Garman.” Quintin replied calmly, nearly setting him off entirely.

“Me? I wasn’t the one who called the City Lord’s daughter a ‘Silver haired whore’ and threatened to strip her naked and march her down the streets so everyone would know exactly what she was.” Garman said, calming down and grinning, despite himself. He rather enjoyed hearing that story from Edvard on the voyage over.

“That…was ill advised, I’ll admit. But you need me, Garman. Please.” Quentin asked. He was about to deny her again, but the look on her face drove the words out of his mouth.

“Fine. But I do the talking. Gods Bones, who would ever believe that I was the better diplomat between us?” Garman gave in, throwing his hands up into the air and marching away. He missed the smirk on Quentin’s face as she followed closely behind.

“We get in there, request his help with the Guild, and get the hell out of there before either of us says something stupid.” Garman explained, looking behind him to see that Quentin understood.

“I don’t see why we need their help. They’re the reason Wil left in the first place. We can just go to the Guild directly.” Quentin complained.

“Fat lot of good that did us. It’s been seven years and those nitwits found jack shit. I have a team ready and waiting, I just need the City Lord to promise to back off and let me do my job.” Garman said.

“Wil isn’t going to come back with us, not if it puts the Tiefling in danger.” Quentin advised, quickening her pace so she walked alongside the large man.

“I already have a plan for that, but we need to find him first.” Greaves had been the one to come up with it, but Quentin didn’t need to know that. Smuggling the pair of them across Lund shouldn’t be too hard, not once they were out of Ur.

‘One step at a time’ Garman thought.

They soon arrived at the Palace, the austere exterior with its large flags visible from across the city. Garman was impressed by the building, it was designed purely to repel invaders, the perfect structure to build if you were worried about an invasion from the Wilds.

A quick word with the guards on duty had the pair making their way down a long corridor, where they came to the closed doors of the City Lord’s meeting hall.

“Remember, I do the talking.” He whispered, waiting for Quentin’s nod, before indicating to the servants that they were ready.

The City Lord himself was a short man, with a large belly and a long grey mustache. Garman could feel the mana coming from the man, marking him as a Rank 12 or 13, although it lacked the edge that came from years of extensive combat experience.

The Lord of Ur was alone, with only a few guards and trusted servants waiting on him.

‘Almost as if he were expecting us.’ Garman thought grimly. Stepping forward, he gave a quick, awkward bow, matched by an elegant curtsy by Quentin. Even after spending years with the Earl, he couldn’t get used to the bowing and scrapping that nobility demanded.

“Thank you for seeing us, Lord Ur.” Garman said, standing upright.

“Thank my curiosity, Illyrian. You both show up out of the blue, demanding to see me. I take it that you are seeking approval for your group to enter the Wilds and search for Wilhelm?” Erik said, his tone serious. Garman couldn’t help but be surprised at his words. The City Lord was obviously expecting them, had known of their dealings in the city.

‘In that case…screw it.’ Garman thought, relaxing immediately. ‘Since the City Lord already knew what they were planning, no need to hide anything.’

“Yes. We’re here by the Earl’s order to bring Wilhelm home. The Emperor of Illyria himself is requesting your cooperation. I have a letter here.” Garman said, reaching into the pocket of the overcoat he wore over his armor, and pulling out a creased letter. Handing it to the servant next to him, he waited for it to be brought to Erik.

Unfolding it, the City Lord of Ur perused the missive quickly, quirking his lips as he finished.

Garman could see the Imperial Seal of Illyria prominently displayed on the back of the letter. It had been sealed in wax, although some quick work with a hot knife had let him read the contents without showing the evidence.

“Your Emperor fails to mention the Tiefling, Illyrian. What of the creature that Wil shelters?” Erik said, folding the letter and tapping it against the arm of his chair.

“If I may speak freely?” Garman asked, his patience for etiquette already stretched to its limits. Seeing Erik’s nod, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I don’t give a shit about the Tiefling. Tie it in a sack and toss it off the wall for all I care. I’m here to get Wil, kicking and screaming if I have to, and drag his entitled arse back to Brookmoor. I’m hoping for your help, but I’ll settle for you staying out of my way.”

“I got a group ready, better than the twats that the Guild sent out, with orders to track down Wil no matter how long it takes.” Garman spat out. Next to him, Quentin widened her eyes at his speech.

‘And he was worried about what I was going to say?’ She thought.

“And you, Miss Quentin? I remember you were quite…passionate about our handling of this situation. Are you fine with the arrangement your partner is suggesting?” Erik asked, focusing on the beautiful blond woman standing in front of him. Their last meeting was quite memorable, he couldn’t remember anyone but Tessa ever talking to him like that before.

“We just want Wil to come home. If it hadn’t been for you and your daughter-” She was cut off by a sharp elbow from Garman, and a warning look.

“What I mean to say is, I want Wil to come home, with me. If I have it my way, he’ll never step foot in Lund again.” She said, her expression determined. Erik watched her for a moment, thinking, before nodding.

He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pity for his daughter. It was clear the young woman before him was smitten with Brookmoor. Still, it was better for a clean break, Astrid had spent too long wallowing in pity. It was done and over with, in his opinion. Time for everyone to move on.

“Very well. You may enter the Wilds to search for young Wilhelm. But the Tiefling must be handed to my people. I will give you a certain degree of trust in this matter, a curtesy to your Emperor. You will bring Wil back to me, however. I wish to see him before he returns to Illyria.” Erik ordered, and Garman couldn’t suppress a wince.

Erik, a seasoned veteran of politics, recognized the look and smiled.

“You may not be aware of this, but long-distance teleportation does not work in the Wilds. Using an array is possible, but it will only connect to Ur, like a magnet drawing iron to itself. The only way back to Illyria is through Ur.” Erik said, watching with satisfaction as the plans Garman had made evaporated.

“We assure you, Lord Ur. We only want Wil to come home.” Quentin said, bowing. With a nod, and a few more pleasantries, the pair exited the hall, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts.

“Well, that could have gone better.” Garman said, happy to be out of the palace and back on the crowded streets.

“It would have, if you had let me take the lead.” Quentin retorted, leading the way towards the Guild. Bickering, the pair didn’t notice a hooded figure following them discreetly from a distance.