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The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 2, Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2023-07-05 07:09:23 +0000 UTCWell, nothing looks wrong here…
Saye hopped off of the ladder, dusting off her gloves as she left the shadows of the warehouse. A line of men silently followed her out into the street where several better-dressed men awaited her with expressions of grave concern. Men tended to go out of their way to chat with her, but these men carried themselves as if someone had just died…or was about to.
One of them stepped forward, almost managing not to wring the cap in his hands as he spoke.
“Is everything to your satisfaction, miss?”
“Yup,” Saye smiled brightly. “Thanks, Mister Polson.”
The men didn’t smile back. If anything, they looked like they were a hair away from bolting. Their behaviour was starting to get annoying.
The same men lined up in front of her were kneeling with their faces to the floor when she stepped out of the Gate to Re-Robel. She was used to men either treating her nice because she was a cute girl or underestimating her for the same reason – it was usually a mix of both – but all she got from these ones was silence. Silence and fear.
They were supposed to be officers of an organisation that ruled the underground of Re-Estize. The man who spoke for them, Prian Polson, was supposed to be an executive while the others were high-ranking officers. They didn’t act like it, however. They didn’t eat like it, either. All of them were so pale and skinny that she wondered if they were sick.
She boarded the carriage and three of the men got in with her. They all squished themselves into the opposite seat. The man closing the door checked four times to make sure he didn’t hit her with it even though she was nowhere close.
“Will the ship be sailing today?” Saye asked.
“Yes, Miss Saye,” Mister Polson tensed before answering. “The captain said that the weather will be ideal for the voyage. We’ve also taken the liberty of reserving a table at the city’s finest restaurant for dinner before you depart.”
The tone of his voice didn’t match his words at all. Instead of inviting her to a fancy dinner, it sounded as if he was apologising for something instead. Saye frowned slightly, wondering what was wrong.
“I’m sorry!”
Saye started as Lloyd, the man to the right of Mister Polson cried and lowered his head between his knees.
“I’m sorry!” Lloyd’s head of blonde hair shook as he spoke, “It wasn’t me! It wasn’t my idea! I said that–”
“H-hey!” Mister Polson shook his shoulder, “Get a grip!”
“Is something the matter?” Saye asked.
The three men froze, turning even paler than before.
“I-It’s nothing, Miss Saye,” Mister Polson answered. “About dinner…”
“I would be most delighted to join you,” Saye smiled.
“…join?”
Gregory, the man to Mister Polson’s left, looked like he wanted to jump out of the window. They said it was the finest restaurant in the city. Did they not want to eat with her? Was it because she was still growing up? She bet that they would be competing for her attention if she were four or five years older. As it was, they refused to even share the same seat.
The wagon jostled them slightly as it rolled up the cobblestone road to their destination, stopping in front of a lighthouse on a cliff overlooking the harbour. Near the base of the lighthouse was the restaurant, sporting the somewhat unimaginative name of ‘The Lighthouse’. Maybe its location simply demanded it.
As she disembarked, Saye’s hand went to the felt cap on her head, holding it in place against a sudden gust from the sea. Two of the men stepped in front of her in an attempt to shield her from the wind, which also happened to block the view of the sunset. Saye suppressed a sigh, trying her best to look dignified despite how silly her company was behaving.
A pair of men bowed before opening the establishment’s door for them. A receptionist in a nice suit offered them a warm smile as they stepped onto polished cedar floorboards. His olive gaze, however, turned slightly confused as it went back and forth between Saye and her companions.
Not that she could blame him. Normally, people would address men first in Re-Estize, but her companions looked so out of sorts that the receptionist couldn’t tell who was in the lead.
Saye stopped a few metres away from the counter so Mister Polson could step clearly ahead of her.
“Welcome to The Lighthouse,” the man lowered his head. “We’ve been expecting you, sir.”
Men and women alike sent surreptitious glances in their direction as they were led through the candlelit main dining room to a private chamber overlooking the sea. Saye compared herself to the restaurant’s other patrons in return.
She wore a frilly blouse under a midnight blue coat that covered her hips, but she was also wearing a pair of matching pants. All of the women present, on the other hand, were wearing long, fancy dresses with snug corsets and complex up-dos, emulating the court fashion of Re-Estize. The eyes of the diners eventually fell upon the lute slung over Saye’s shoulder, and it was then that their judgemental gazes finally left her, satisfied.
Alright, I pass.
It was strange for a girl to be wearing pants in a high-class establishment like this, but it was a different story if she was a Bard. She had gone from a crude interloper to a pleasing accompaniment to their evening.
Once they arrived at their private chamber and the door whispered shut, Saye took a seat in the corner of the room. She lightly plucked the strings of her lute, cocking an ear to gauge how much sound was being absorbed by the walls.
“Oh, so you can really play that, Miss Saye.”
“Do you have any requests, Mister Polson?” Saye asked.
“N-no, I wouldn’t dare…”
These people are really…
Rather than vent her annoyance at her hosts, Saye softly strummed a tune of her own choosing. It was the soothing melody of a piece called Winter’s Crown. The song had mysteriously appeared less than a year ago and steadily gained in popularity around the Azerlisia Mountains.
She didn’t add her voice to the tune, fearing it would be too much. Eventually, the men relaxed enough to reach for their beverages.
“So,” Saye asked, “how have things been going here?”
“There’s no end to the headaches, Miss Saye,” Mister Polson said. “They’re supposed to be Nobles, but those idiots sure don’t act like them.”
It was a very different answer from what she had received shortly after arriving. Back then, everything was fine and under control and there was absolutely nothing to worry about.
“Has anything particularly troublesome happened?”
“It ain’t any one thing,” Mister Polson sighed after downing the rest of his drink. “It’s just that those brats have all sorts of ideas. They’re all scions of minor, independent houses, but they act as if they’re one of the Great Nobles. No, it’s worse than that – they act like they think they’re the Bloody Emperor!”
“No kidding,” Gregory shook his head. “Just their expenses for clothing ran us out of money this spring!”
“You think you have it bad now?” Lloyd grumbled, “Just wait ‘til summer taxes.”
As one, the men sitting at the table groaned.
“What happened last year?” Saye asked.
“What didn’t happen?” Mister Polson snorted as he poured himself another drink, "The security division was strapped. Almost none of those brats had the men to collect taxes – they released them, thinking that they could be hired back just for each tax season as if they thought that was the only thing that they did! Of course, the clerks and magistrates found jobs elsewhere or left for other countries.”
“Then,” Lloyd picked up the topic as Mister Polson emptied his glass, “half of them decided to raise taxes without any warning once we started doing their work for them. One girl I had to deal with thought that she could tax us. It was her right, she said. If Zero was still around, he’d have punched her pretty little head off.”
“Wasn’t there one guy that tried to use the men we lent him to clear out the Demihuman tribes along his border?” Gregory asked.
“There was,” Mister Polson nodded. “He tried tempting them with knighthoods using the land that he wanted them to conquer. Who would want to be under that fool?”
“The smuggling division's running out of drugs and liquor,” Lloyd said. “We were supposed to make money with it, and now we’re in the red. I never thought you could lose money running contraband.”
Saye listened quietly as they took turns ranting, nudging them along when she had heard enough about a topic. It was no wonder that the Sorcerous Kingdom wasn’t making any headway in Re-Estize. Never mind the history between the two countries, the people they were working with were utterly incompetent. The Nobles that they were using were incompetent. Their handlers were incompetent. The three men in front of her complaining about the incompetence of the people that they were responsible for were themselves incompetent. She wondered how far the web of incompetence went.
“What did our superior have to say about all of this?” Saye asked.
The men jerked as if doused with ice water. Their eyes went from their empty plates to their empty glasses before going to Saye. They didn’t seem to understand what she had done to them, instead blaming the liquor for loosening their tongues.
“Perhaps you could be so kind as to inform Her Excellency…” Lloyd said hopefully.
“I’m going in the opposite direction,” Saye reminded them.
“We still have everything under control,” Mister Polson said. “There’s no need to bother Her Excellency.”
“She must be a busy person,” Lloyd nodded.
With all of the resources at Lady Albedo’s disposal, Saye doubted that she didn’t know what was going on. They were doing Re-Estize a giant favour by collecting all of the notable incompetents in the country for disposal. Maybe the whole organisation they were working with was included in that. Every day that they delayed what they were supposed to report brought them another step closer to the chopping block.
I hope they get purged. I’d rather not work with people like them in the future.
Mrs Linum taught her that incompetent allies were worse than any enemy. These guys were just thugs with some power that only looked out for themselves. The Sorcerous Kingdom was better off without people like that.
They didn’t linger for much longer as Saye’s ship was going out with the tide. The four of them rode in silence as the carriage brought them to the southernmost pier of the harbour. A group of sunbaked sailors played dice at the base of the pier. They rose to their feet and folded their arms, forming a wall that barred the way to their ship as the carriage rolled to a stop before them.
“Those guys don’t look very happy to see us,” Saye noted.
“Sailors are a rough bunch, Miss Saye,” Lloyd said. “Ah – please don’t hold us responsible for any rough treatment on their part.”
Saye disembarked from the carriage, slinging a small sack with her belongings over her right shoulder while holding her lute in her left hand. A broad man with arms as thick as her body walked up the pier to meet them. As he came closer, Saye noticed the pointed ears of a Half-Elf.
“Lloyd,” he spat, “don’t tell me that this is your ‘inspector’.”
If Mister Polson, Gregory, and Lloyd had fainted right then and there, Saye wouldn’t have been surprised. The big man sneered at their reaction.
“Well, whatever,” he said. “It’s not as if I have anything to hide. Hey, someone carry the young miss’ bag.”
One of the sailors stepped forward. He frowned and tested the weight of Saye’s bag after she placed it into his arms. Saye turned and smiled at her three hosts.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said.
“It’s our pleasure, Miss Saye,” Mister Polson bobbed his head. “So we’re clear, right? Nothing bad to report?”
“Nope,” Saye replied. “It must be a problem on the other end.”
Beside Mister Polson, Lloyd made a heretical gesture. Saye narrowed his eyes at him and he fell on his butt with a whimper.
“Anyway,” Saye said. “I’m going now. Thanks for everything.”
The big man’s boots thumped on the boardwalk as he accompanied Saye to the ship.
“Those are some hard men you were dealin’ with,” he said. “At least I thought they were. Strong folk would run straight into the sea if they knew that they were after ‘em. You do something?”
“Not really.”
“Huh. Well, they looked like something was eating them from the inside out.”
She didn’t know what their problem was. Mister Polson and his people weren’t even supposed to be in Re-Robel. He had rushed to port city from the capital just so that he could deal with her personally, but all she was doing was counting sacks of grain. In the end, she couldn’t decide whether they were just intimidated by girls or numbers bigger than ten.
“Is the cargo already loaded?” Saye asked as she looked up at the tall sails of the ship.
“Yes ma’am. Fifty tonnes of grain bound for Banre in the Holy Kingdom. Mmh…those bastards didn’t even introduce us. I’m Harold, captain of Devinn’s Guile.”
“I’m Saye. Pleased to meet you, Captain Harold.”
Since he had a Human-sounding name – or at least not an Elvish-sounding one – he had probably been raised by the Human side of his family.
A sailor pulled in the gangplank after they boarded the ship. It was unlike the wide, flat barges of the Draconic Kingdom with their square sails.
“What kind of ship is this?” She asked.
“A caravel,” Captain Harold answered. “Never seen one before?”
Saye shook her head.
“She’s a true bluewater vessel,” the captain told her. “Small, but faster and more agile than most.”
“How long will the trip take?”
“It’s an easy run. Banre is two hundred kilometres straight downwind of Re-Robel, so we’ll arrive before dawn.”
That was fast. A regular wagon would take a week and a half to reach the northern gate of the Great Wall of Roble in perfect weather. The ship, despite being described as ‘small’, carried fifty times more than a horse-drawn wagon, too.
“Will it be dangerous?” Saye asked.
“Nearly every square kilometre of the shelf from Argland to the Crusader States is the domain of one Sea Dragon or another, and they’ve been keeping the peace since their numbers returned to normal. Trade on the gyre brings them far more wealth and prestige than raiding, you see. There are occasionally monsters that pop up near the coast, but that sort of thing is usually reserved for the northbound route in this part of the world.”
“Why would the south and north route be different?”
“Because it’s a gyre?” The captain furrowed his brow, “Hmm…think of a gyre as the wind going in big circles over the ocean. In the north on this side of the continent, the wind blows south along the coast. That makes going south easy and safe, as it takes you over the rich fisheries and reefs that the Sea Dragons rule over. The fastest way to get back north, however, is to let the wind take you far out to sea. Ships trim their sails to head northwest until the turn of the winds takes them back to their destination on the coast.”
When they climbed up onto the caravel’s poop deck, Saye found a row of three men awaiting them. The captain gestured to each as he introduced them to Saye.
“Gentlemen, this Miss Saye, the inspector they were talking about. Saye, this is the Quartermaster, Swed, the Cook, Kazuma, and the Druid, Oroso.”
“I didn’t know ships had Druids,” Saye said.
“Every proper oceangoing ship has a Druid. Well, I guess ships from places like the Holy Kingdom employ Clerics. Divine casters are essential for long-distance travel. The largest galleons can have up to a dozen. They serve as the ship’s doctor and navigator; they can conjure up food and wind if required. They’re handy in a fight, too. We’d be walking around with peglegs, hand hooks and eye patches if they weren’t around.”
What happened to the route being safe?
“I see…their names aren’t from around here. Are they from another part of the world?”
“That’s right,” Captain Harold nodded. “They joined the crew at various ports along the coast. Most of them are from south of the equator – the point where the sun starts travelling across the northern sky instead of the south like it does here.”
Argh…
She wanted to see that. It sounded so fantastical. Saye wanted to hear all of their stories, too, but she wouldn’t be on board for long. Interestingly, they were all Humans or close to it. That meant the story that Humans were almost extinct was a lie and they actually lived all over the place. She wondered what the point of telling such a story was when it was so easy to disprove.
“I hope you don’t mind if I ask your crew questions about the Holy Kingdom,” Saye said. “I’d like to know what to expect when we arrive.”
“It won’t be a problem once we’re out of port and underway,” the captain told her. “You should be able to tell when it’s fine to talk to ‘em.”
“What about that thing about women and ships?”
“Women and ships…? Ah, ships don’t allow women on board if their voyage takes them out to sea on long voyages. Unless the crew’s all women – then it’s men that aren’t allowed. Our trip’s less than half a day, so there’s no problem.”
She had never heard any tales about ships crewed by women before. Everything she had heard and studied always filled them with men.
Captain Harold started barking orders to his crew. Saye went to sit on a barrel near the rear mast, watching the ship come alive as it drifted out of port. Swed started to sing. The rest of the crew joined in every other line.
Farewell and good riddance, to the whores of old Robel,
Breathe deep of the cold; of the winds of the gyre!
It’s thirty-six leagues to the girls of Kalinsha,
And we’ll cut through the deep ‘til we’re warmed by their fires.
Saye’s heels thumped against the barrel in time with the tune as it went from stanza to stanza. The men weren’t great singers – plus they all sang in different languages – but she saw that the song had a way of coordinating everybody as they worked together to sail the ship.
She took up her lute and strummed along softly, noting that the sailors took turns singing lines that were improvised according to their location. At least half of those improvised lines had to do with women. Still, she appreciated the song for what it was: a common bond that everyone in the crew shared regardless of their home, language or even race. She committed the tune to memory while she wondered about all the places where the song might be sung.
It was well known that the world was far, far larger than the little bit around E-Rantel, but Information about far-off lands was rare. As Saye understood it, their part of the world was a rather uninteresting backwater that only tended to draw Merchants for its raw resources. It was also a place where Merchants could dump old magic items or obsolete gadgets. Stories from abroad were next to unheard of unless they involved things that everyone in the world knew about, like the Eight Greed Kings or the great nations in the centre of the continent. Even then, there wasn’t much.
Someday, her work would bring her to distant places she had never even heard of. At least that’s what everyone said. All she needed to do was keep working.
It wasn’t long before Re-Robel disappeared beyond the horizon. The sails overhead billowed with the brisk winds from the north and the ship rocked as it broke through the waves. The song ceased and the activities on the deck changed, with much of the crew splitting up to tend to individual tasks. She looked up at Captain Harold as he made another round of the ship.
“Is it okay to talk now?” Saye asked.
“Sure is,” the captain replied. “I told you you’d know when you saw it.”
Saye slid off of her barrel, coming to walk alongside the captain. The big man raised his eyebrow at her.
“You’re part of the crew too, right?” Saye said.
Captain Harold snorted. He continued his rounds, but he didn’t tell her to go away.
“You wanted to know what Roble is like these days,” he said. “I don’t care about much that happens inland, but from what I’ve seen of the coast, they’re not doing well. I guess that’s to be expected with the north being ruined and all.”
“How is it compared to Re-Estize?” Saye asked.
“Well, it’s hard to get as bad as Re-Estize,” the captain answered. “The main thing is how fast everything’s happening. Every time we sail into Banre, it’s like a portrait that looks worse whenever you turn away and look at it again.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Again, not like Re-Estize is. The people are all under one overseer or another, and life under them is basically the same sort of slavery that you see elsewhere on the continent. Well, no, it’s quite a bit worse. It’s like a permanent apprenticeship that one has to sign up for in order to live. Now, I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”
“What is it?”
The captain stopped along the railing on the port side, looking out at the distant coastline.
“Those fellows you were with had us sign a curious contract,” he said. “I’m proud to help with the grain deliveries, but we’re only using half of our overall cargo capacity each week. We’re also paid to not export anything from the Holy Kingdom, though it’s not as if they have much to sell. The strangest part is that the contract prohibits us from delivering refugees to Re-Estize – even paying ones. Roble has too many people while Re-Estize has too few: wouldn’t it help both sides if we carried refugees to places where they can find work?”
Saye remained silent for a moment, reviewing her response. Most of the ships that would normally trade between Re-Estize and Robel had been kept from sailing in one way or the other by the Eight Fingers. The Sorcerous Kingdom needed Devinn’s Guile to deliver their food aid, however, so the ship required additional rules.
“More relief is being organised,” she said, “so we’ll use more cargo space eventually. As for exports and people…did you hear about Jaldabaoth’s attack on Re-Estize’s capital?”
“I heard a few things about it…”
“There was some sort of magic item that was tied to his attack,” Saye told him. “Some people even say that it might be a living item that can get around in mysterious ways. We want to keep any item like that from travelling north, as well as any destructive Fiends that may still be hiding in the Holy Kingdom with Human disguises. They have reasons to target the Sorcerous Kingdom, after all.”
Captain Harold rubbed his short, curly beard as he listened to her words. At the end of them, he shook his head.
“That would’ve never crossed my mind,” he said. “I guess that’s the difference between running a country and running a ship.”
“It’s just the little bit we can do,” Saye said. “But it might already be too late.”
“…you mean that the Fiends or the item – or both – might have escaped to the south instead?”
“I don’t know much about the rest of the world, but I wouldn’t be surprised if something like Jaldabaoth popped up somewhere else as a result.”
“That’s a worrying thought,” Captain Harold sighed. “But what if the Fiends are still in the Holy Kingdom? Is that your real purpose there? You’re too clever of a girl to just be counting sacks of grain.”
“I’m here to investigate reports that suggest problems with the distribution of our grain,” Saye told him. “We don’t know if Fiends or Humans or rats are the cause. Oh, uh…please don’t tell anyone about this. It might warn whoever’s doing it and get me in trouble.”
“Of course,” the captain said. “It’s horrible to think that people might be suffering because of this. I’ll be praying for your safety and success, Miss Saye.”
“Thank you, Captain Harold,” Saye smiled.
Saye wandered around the ship for the rest of the night, chatting with as many members of the crew as she could. Unlike the Eight Fingers’ members in Re-Robel, they were more than happy to give her their attention whenever she sat down with them. She asked each one different questions, but their questions always revolved around a handful of the same topics. This was in no small part due to her leading the discussion in that direction. By doing so, she was able to sow plenty of the ‘seeds’ that Lord Demiurge had requested for her to spread around whenever the opportunity arose.
The first bunch of seeds had to do with Jaldabaoth. She guessed that the Sorcerous Kingdom was trying to spread awareness of the Fiend before he struck again. The second bunch of seeds were something like a test of loyalty to see how far Devinn’s Guile and its crew could be trusted. Captain Harold felt like a nice guy, so she hoped that they would pass.
As promised, the lighthouse of Banre, the port town north of Kalinsha, came into view well before dawn. Saye sat down on her barrel by the rear mast again to get out of the way of the crew. While she watched them make their preparations, a voice sounded in her head.
『Saye.』
She almost raised a hand to her ear.
『Lord Demiurge?』
『Indeed. Due to favourable developments, we will be moving Phase Two forward by three steps.』
『What about the investigation?』
『You should have some time yet before needing to reach your assigned target. Feel free to find out what you can along the way.』
『Understood. Oh, I planted those seeds amongst the crew of Devinn’s Guile.』
『Excellent! You have once again proven your usefulness.』
Saye could hear Lord Demiurge’s smile over the Message spell. She decided to warn him about the behaviour she had observed in Re-Robel, just in case.
『…also, those Eight Fingers guys suck. They think that problems just go away if you look the other way and I don’t know how many they’re hiding. It feels like they only got as far as they did in Re-Estize because it’s Re-Estize.』
『Yes, well, it goes to show the dire state of the country when the Eight Fingers is the best option available. Fret not, however – the Prime Minister has given her assurances that everything is under control. I look forward to your performance in the Holy Kingdom, Saye. If things go well, Roble shall be reborn into something more fresh and dynamic.』
The Message spell ended. Saye leaned back on the mast, hugging her knee as she watched the lights of Banre’s harbour slowly grow closer.
It was time to return the heretics to the fold. The god of justice would reign over them once again.
Comments
Saphy
Gosh I loved this chapter! I don't know why, but picking out bits and pieces and more obscure parts of the text that show the influence of Job Class Levels on people's very thinking was really easy for me to see here. I could so easily tell that she was a Bard through and through, and even where she doesn't explicitly say 'steering the conversation' or some such, she was performing some other charisma-based check, or even some knowledge-type checks in relation to that at some point. I now love Saye to pieces, and I think it's amazing how the cute, unassuming young bard is a religious zealot and I wholly support this. I hope she becomes best friends with Neia.
ovrsurge
Liam seems to have picked up a desire for justice and the good things in life from the noblewomen of the sorcerous kingdom. It might have something to do with his preference for powerful brunettes in positions of authority.
Zarik0
“Huh. Well, they looked like something was eating them from the inside out.” You think? :P ''They’re handy in a fight, too. We’d be walking around with peglegs, hand hooks and eye patches if they weren’t around.” Ah ! :) ''It was time to return the heretics to the fold. The god of justice would reign over them once again.'' Really want some 'clash'/interaction of religion subject or etc with the guys in Roble (and Paladin if possible and even better Paladin to Paladin)
I love how it looks like Liam the Assassin is the kinder soul, while Saye the Bard is the ruthless fanatic!!!
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! Demiurge really is such a kind person isn't he? Organizing relief, even attempting to deal with any distribution issues and spreading "awareness" of "fiend attacks"! 😂😂😂 I actually thought for a second there you mixed up "Roble" and "Re-Estize" into "Re-Robel", the I realized that you were writing about the port city not the country, lol!
