While Lucius was busy securing himself a table, his companions found one another in a luncheon beer garden adjacent to the castle. Sammy was the most energetic, throwing his arms around Kajsa the moment he saw her. This caused a small degree of ire in Miss Lynnfield, but she made no complaint, which in turn only flustered the little alchemist more. She had no inkling of my pupil’s attachment to her yet, so she couldn’t help but suspect something more behind the doctor’s embrace which she did not quite desire.

Leomund paid no heed to the casual pleasantries. While Sammy and Kajsa caught up, exchanging shared memories and commenting about missed experiences, the northman secured them a pitcher of ale. Only when they said his name did his attention leave the wench’s waist. Miss Lynnfield had said, “Tolzi here is the world-trotter.”

Kajsa smiled. “I’m still blessed to have seen as much as I have.”

“You’ll see more,” the northman said. “In this company, you never know when you might get woken up and sent to a different country.”

Sammy snorted and waved his mug of beer. “I wonder what you could possibly be referring to? Gosh, I just can’t think of any examples like that.”

Tolzi sneered a grin back at the doctor, but he saw the curiosity on Kajsa’s face. “Sending me to fetch you, lass, is far from the first time I’ve been at the beck and call of Lucius.”

The alchemist nodded. “I must thank him for sending someone so dependable to receive me.”

“Dependable is one way to say it,” Tolzi said, his eyes glazing over the garden. “I’d say it’s just that the boy knows I’d kill for him.”

Sammy leaned on the table. “Not going to die for him anymore?”

The northmen huffed. “Doing that once was enough.”

“Excuse me,” Kajsa said, “But you don’t seem to be dead.”

“It happened while I was protecting the redhead.”

“Miss Canta?”

Tolzi said, “Incidentally, it was also the last time I was sent to protect a girl on the boy’s request.”

It was the night after a lawyer for the Rivi family sued for damages that Lucius’ little cadre of betrayal were saddled up and set out of the city. They skulked through the stables with shuttered lanterns, three in total. Lemound, Aisha, and Sacerdote. The last had been assigned almost as a punishment, to get him out of the libraries of the central kingdoms. The newly-atheistic priest was one step away from committing blasphemy and Lucius decided his worth on the battlefield wasn’t enough to keep him around. If he wanted to challenge the truth of the gods, with what Anubi had taught him, the man could do so in Giordana.

In the stables, they met with the workmen as well as Lucius. He took deliberate strides, feeling out his almost-regenerated leg. The saddlebags had to be carefully packed and distributed and there was some concern over the quality of the horses. The steeds typically considered the best would be foolish to send into the desert, even the comparatively lush region surrounding Tavina.

There was also no telling just how much supplies had to be given to the three of them, because Jeameaux might not be safe to return to. Excess money often made for a risk of bandits, but that wasn’t much of a threat to Leomund. In fact, the main concern Lucius attempted to balance was how much weaponry and armor to give the trio. To not stand out, only brigandine armor was given(1).

The task was a familiar thing for Leomund however, and he took over barking at the stableboys. This gave Lucius an opportunity to embrace Aisha in the intimate darkness.

“I thought you were keeping me close this time,” she whispered.

“I wish I could, but this is the only time I can surprise him. His attention is out there, on Rodrick. You can sneak away tonight. Then, I’ll keep him focused on Aria instead. She’s a thorn, but that makes her useful.”

She pouted. “You’re asking me to do something impossible, you know.”

“You’re smart enough to do it.”

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“And you aren’t?” she asked.

“My head is too full of problems. What I know of magic is that it requires clarity of focus. You can’t be thinking about anything else. That’s just not something I can do.”

Years of memorization in the temples had certainly trained Aisha with enough focus, but there was another matter. “I’ll have to explain everything to my father, you know.”

The boy smirked. “Maybe not everything? If that’s alright?”

“Of course, but that may not stop him from following us back.”

“A bridge I shall cross when I come to it. Now go. Get out of the city and stay safe. Leomund can protect you and I swear that if someone does hurt you there is no force in this world that will stop me.”

The two of them kissed, much to Leomund’s minor annoyance. Only that night had it begun to dawn on him that he wouldn’t be able to carouse if he was protecting Aisha. Whoring was a typical pastime for him, and I normally paid him quite well to facilitate just that recreation. In hindsight, forcing him into celibacy of a sort was good for him. The man had taken his brother’s death hard and prying him out of vice to journey north had been almost impossible. The clarity of purpose and task let him think and duty kept his cheeks dry.

For this reason, I was rather nonplussed when I learned of the departure, which was of course that very day. The menial tasks of charing harvests and comparing points of defensible terrain had fallen to me because Lucius, that morning, had to be the great performer. I would supply him the maps through which he could form his tactics, but he was the one that had to inspire his troops and instill in them a valor pointed towards violence. Thus, I spared the boy the mental labor that I could.

For obvious reasons, I allowed him to spend the day thinking he had duped me. It made his speech more enthusiastic. I have opted to include a transcription of his speech here as a footnote(2), in respect of the fact that the thrust of action was in fact the nighttime escape of the trio. Saddled upon young, wirey horses, they merged into the typical flow of commuting workers. Men traveling into the city to supply the bakeries or men traveling out to tend fields. With Sacerdote garbed as a pilgrim and Aisha versed in the lexicon of the mercantile trade, Leomund fell into the stoic role of bodyguard and no questions were asked.

As it turned out, they chose just about the last time that the roads of the central kingdoms were safe to travel, for many years after. The wars that would break out smashed armies to pieces and in the wreckage of bodies, bandits germinated like mold. They scurried about the land, hiding their shame of desertion and preying upon the small folk. For that week of travel, they had peace.

Of course, Leomund’s presence did its part to deter the more opportune.

But all this I know because I didn’t need some crow or raven to spy upon them. That entire faculty had been carved into Sacerdote’s mind. My agent strode beside them, rode his horse between them. He watched everything they did, and his mind recorded it all for my review when I recovered his body. What was more, I had imprinted into him certain failsafes and commands that even he was not aware of.

As far as the wastelander was concerned, he had simply become forgetful. He had the impression that he had always just stepped away from a mighty task of memorization, even when fresh up in the morning. It weighed him down somewhat, for there is always a price to magic, but that was of little concern. Indeed, the burden was so little that neither Aisha nor Leomund noticed the change in the man.

Thus, I was happy to let my pupil think he had duped me. I attended his speech and even rode out with the army. I made no comment about how they were fleeing from a brewing riot. I only made mention when I had to depart for the north, to ensure Prince Gabriel’s war proceeded properly, conveying my wishes that the travel would not be hard on Aisha. His heir was very precious to be traveling across the land.

That gave him a good few months of worry.

At this time, the technique of manufacturing brigandine armor was still immature and it consisted mostly of major sheets formed to the chest around the vitals then covered up by leather. Later designs by more ambitious craftsmen would adopt the quilt-like pattern commonly known. Lucius von Solhart’s speech to his troops before leaving Jeameaux, approx. “Men, when you signed on here, you were paid in silver. Some of you I hope still have some. We’re a mixed company, now in a foreign land. I expect you’ve all enjoyed the last days here in Jeameaux. It’s a strong city with an honest culture. A friend of Vassermark and a refuge for Giordanans. It has a history of peace, protected as it is by the two lakes. Now, we have been called on to protect this city. Not from siege, or pillaging, but from a type of monetary attack. That silver you were paid with can buy many things. I bought your loyalty with it. You in turn could pay off debts, could buy a new home or start a shepherd’s flock. You could offer a dowry, drink yourself silly, maybe just gamble it away for the thrill. Most of all, however, you can buy food with it. If you’ll put up with it, food is cheap. Always has been… in times of peace. That’s because there is food to buy. Bakers have bread to sell. Butchers have meat to salt. Families have something to put on their tables. What is happening now is an attack on the harvest, because of politics. If these bandits have their way, there is no amount of silver or gold that will fill the stomachs of the people around you. That money will become worthless. The old will wither away. Babies won’t have the strength to cry. Do I need to go on? I don’t think I do. This isn’t a future that must come to pass. The harvest hasn’t been plundered yet. There is still time for us to corner these villains and put a stop to them. So we’re going to march through one of the most beautiful countrysides in the world and we are going to protect the people of this city. We will hound them. We will crush them. Gather your things men, we march.”