CHAPTER 32
Lucan left Jaron Ed’s company with a numb head, having taken in so much knowledge, with which he didn’t know what to do. Already, he had questions of his own, but he had had to pull himself back to his purpose in being here and bid the historian farewell. By the time he’d extricated himself from the conversation with the man, night had already overtaken the sky outside.
He rejoined his men in his room, taking a seat among them. Georg and Venn were waiting for him there. He ignored the incredulous looks they all gave him and sat down between them. “Ryder?”
“The man’s account of the incident is rather grim,” the man-at-arms answered him without preamble. “I believe it must be a beast. The corpse had pieces torn out of it. What he saw could not have been the doing of humans.”
There was a brief silence, and then Georg spoke. “Well…you see, it’s not unheard of for some deviants to appear in the Union. I can tell you that there have been incidents among the adventurers.” Seeing the incredulous looks Lucan and his men were giving him, the adventurer continued, “Having strength in your arm with little power above you and no responsibility beneath you can drive some to the brinks of madness. Of course, the guilds have taken notice and such things are now nipped in the bud.”
“But we should not imagine that they no longer exist,” Lucan finished for him, and the adventurer nodded. A sigh, and Lucan added, “Well, we can only be more vigilant in our undertakings from here on, not that we haven’t been, but keep this matter in mind.”
His men nodded, and then Georg spoke again. “May I begin looking for Lyanna in the city, Master Lucan?”
Lucan grew silent, then his eyes found Venn. “That’s her name, your sister?”
Venn nodded with a tight face.
“Very well,” Lucan said, turning back to Georg. “You may begin on the morrow.”
“Can I go with–”
“No,” Lucan interrupted Venn. “You may tell him where to look, but you will only be a burden out there, and I don’t want to have to rescue you again.”
Venn seemed to accept it quickly, likely having expected his response, though he muttered something under his breath about him having to save Georg too.
“Then we are decided,” Lucan said. “Georg will go into the city and look for Lyanna. Ryder may aid him if he’s not otherwise occupied.”
With that, they spread back into their own rooms, and Lucan lay on his own bed for a well-deserved rest.
The next morning, all except Tomis and Georg woke up late. Georg was already gone by the time Lucan was up and breaking his fast in the common room. He hadn’t woken up Ryder to join him, and the injured Tomis had, of course, stayed to stand guard.
He sat down with his two men and Venn to eat, but before they finished, a visitor surprised them. Her arrival was quite the spectacle. Elayne, the daughter of Mistress Yanna of The Golden Wheel, arrived with her own two guards. The tavernkeeper was quick to bow and scrape at her arrival, going as far as to wipe her seat right before she took it, a seat that was at another table.
It was almost not surprising when the girl sent one of her guards to summon Lucan. “My mistress requires your presence, Master Lucan.”
He gave the man the most derisive of looks, but then he chuckled, finding amusement in the whole affair instead of annoyance. He turned to Ryder and said, “Tell Little Girl Elayne’s man that I am occupied by my food, and that she will need to wait for a more opportune time.”
Ryder slowly swallowed a piece of bread, clearing his throat before he spoke, then said, “My master bids you tell your mistress, Little Girl Elayne, that he is occupied by his food. She may seek him at a more opportune time.”
The guard pressed his lips, obviously troubled by the whole affair. Lucan pitied the man for being stuck between them, but if the girl chose to address him as an inferior, he had to remind her of her place, and perhaps he could also amuse himself on her behalf.
The guard eventually accepted his fate and marched rigidly to Elayne’s table, whispering the words to her. Lucan was fortunate to witness the way her brows scrunched up, and her cheeks flared. She threw him a glare, then rattled something off to the guard, who turned around and marched to Lucan’s table again.
“My mistress says that should you refuse to join her at her table, she will leave, and you will not be privy to the latest happenings in the guild’s affairs.”
Again, Lucan turned to Ryder and said, “Tell Little Girl Elayne’s man that she is free to leave, and that if she does, he should speak to Mistress Yanna of her daughter’s failure.”
“My master bids you tell the little girl that she may leave, and he bids you apprise your real mistress of her daughter’s conduct should she leave.”
The guard nodded with a resigned countenance and returned to his mistress’s table. Lucan, once again, was witness to her face ripening like a tomato, and he might have imagined her hair smoking for a moment.
After a breath, the girl got up and stomped over to his table, followed by her guards, and still fuming. “Do you find amusement in my humiliation, Master Lucan?” she snapped.
“I do no such thing,” Lucan said, keeping his voice as low as he could. “I only see no realm in which our stations allow for you to summon me.”
“And what is your station precisely?” she pressed with a quirk of her lips.
Lucan recognized the implicit threat and smiled, whispering his following words. “My station is that which you shall not speak, unless you wish to breach my agreement with your mother and bear the consequences.”
Elayne huffed, breathing through her nose. After a pause, she threw her head to the side and yelled, “Chair!”
The tavernkeeper rushed over with her chair, setting it a finger’s width behind her knees. She pulled up her dress and sat down daintily, as though her fury had been a figment of their imagination.
Once the tavernkeeper left them, she begrudgingly rattled off what she’d been sent to say. “My mother has won the alliances we will need. She has called for an assembly of the council. They are gathering now.”
Lucan leaned back. “And what does she ask of me?”
“To prepare yourself,” Elayne said. “The council will certainly ask for your presence if they are persuaded of the venture, which she assured me will happen.”
Lucan gave her a shallow nod. “I am prepared.” Though he told himself that he would have to avoid any excursions into the city until he’d met the council and settled this. Again, he wondered if he wanted to keep himself mired in the gang affair. Might as well see it through. He glanced at Venn, who sat at the table, watching the whole exchange.
Elayne soon left the tavern, followed by her guards and the sweating tavernkeeper, who only left her at the doors with a fawning smile. Once her carriage rolled away, the man sighed and returned to his place behind the counter, slumping as though he’d suffered a fortnight’s work.
Lucan ended up whiling the day away in the stagnant tavern, mostly between his room and the common room. Georg returned after nightfall, bringing back little of note on Lyanna’s whereabouts, though he seemed certain he was drawing close to something.
Lucan had another friendly exchange with Jaron Ed, though his mind was too occupied with the matter of the council to truly give the historian his attention. He was also feeling averse to another headache with a matter so significant approaching. He ended up agreeing with the old historian to speak more on another occasion.
The next morning, Georg left with Ryder in tow. Unsurprisingly, soon after, Mistress Yanna arrived with her daughter.
There was plenty of ceremony to her carriage’s arrival, with guards entering the tavern first and quickly beckoning the keeper, who ran outside to receive her. Still, the mistress showed Lucan the courtesy of stepping out of her carriage to speak to him instead of attempting to summon him as her daughter had.
They met at the doors. Mistress Yanna wore an imposing purple dress that hugged her figure without enticement. The embroidery on it was rather refined, its sheen even giving Lucan pause.
“Master Lucan.” She dipped her head, and behind her, her daughter did the same, only to appease her mother if Lucan was to assume.
“Mistress Yanna.” Lucan nodded.
“The council awaits the certainty of your presence,” she said. “If you will join us?”
“Of course,” Lucan said. Tomis was already behind him as he followed her outside. He had to leave Venn alone in the tavern, since Tomis refused to leave his side, but at least this tavern was guarded. Outside, he found a carriage of such make that he’d only seen the wealthiest of nobles use in the capital. The coachman was waiting by the carriage door, holding it open. There were two guards, accompanying the merchantwoman, one sitting on a bench on the back of the carriage and another next to where the coachman would sit. Tomis joined the one on the back as Mistress Yanna and her daughter ascended into the carriage.
Lucan entered it next, taking a plush seat across from them. “What might I expect?” he addressed Mistress Yanna.
“I have already won most of the council to my side, hinging on your presence of course,” Mistress Yanna said. “However, Fendrel, the guild master, is opposed. He is accustomed to demanding a larger slice of such gainful ventures.”
Lucan frowned, nodding for her to continue. She’d told him of the man before, though Lucan was not eager to find himself at odds with the master of the whole guild. Still, it seemed that power in a guild was not knotted in the hands of their leader alone. These councils appeared to have much power, and if Yanna was to be believed, she’d already won more than enough of it to begin their undertaking.
“He will attempt to undermine the venture and your ability to deliver on your promises in Barwalis,” she continued. “Doubtlessly, he and his allies will also seek to undermine you with the matter of your age.”
Lucan narrowed his eyes. He was only twenty years of age, and though he hadn’t missed the dismissal it had earned him from some, it hadn’t barred his way excessively in the past.
Well, if all that stood between him and the fruition of his plans was the opposition of some on this council, then he would simply have to crush them. And since there was no place for the sword at this particular table, he would have to crush them by word.