Elayne hit the ground before her horse had fully stopped.

  She shoved the reins into a younger knight's hands and went straight past Julius' line of spears without waiting for permission. Her boots squelched in the churned earth as she dropped to a knee beside Ilyra.

  The girl lay where Ragna had set her, braid spread over the crushed grass, face pale but not grey. The gag was gone and the ropes were cut. Her chest moved.

  Elayne's gauntlet hovered over her throat for a moment, then pressed lightly. She checked her pupils with two careful fingers and let out a slow breath.

  "She's been drugged, but nothing worse," she said with visible relief. "Her breathing is steady and I don't feel any broken bones either. Get her back to the healers immediately, though I don't think she's in any immediate danger."

  Some of the tension bled out of the horses. A few spearpoints dipped a fraction.

  Only then did Elayne look up at Ragna and me. Sweat streaked the side of her face under her helm. She took us in – the blood, the cuts, the dead men cooling nearby – and shook her head once like a woman waking from a bad dream.

  "What in the Light happened out here?" she asked, gesturing at the bodies. "These aren't ordinary bandits."

  Ragna and I exchanged a glance. “Well…”

  ****

  The room they put us in this time was all nobility and thoughts. Stone walls, yes, but paneled halfway up with dark wood that had soaked in a couple of generations' worth of polish. A long table instead of a dais. Two shuttered windows. It wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

  Severus Marcellis sat at the head of the table in a plain high?backed chair. He wore a simple dark coat with the tower?and?lines crest pinned at his shoulder. Elayne stood at his right, arms folded behind her, helm off and hair damp from being scrubbed clean.

  Ragna and I sat on the other side of the table. They'd at least given us chairs this time instead of leaving us standing like misbehaving children.

  "...and that's how Thorvyn and Ragna saved the Lady from what appears to be a coordinated kidnapping attempt," Elayne finished. "They intercepted the kidnappers, engaged them directly despite being outnumbered, and managed to recover Lady Ilyra before the assassins could cross into Velkor territory."

  She had walked him through it from the moment her patrol saw the Mantle to the smoke beads and the assassins vanishing. She didn't leave our part out or dress it up; she just said the facts.

  Severus listened with his hands folded under his chin. He didn't interrupt, and he didn’t react much at all until she reached the part where the kidnappers mentioned an iron boar.

  His jaw tightened at that. He didn't say the name, but I filed away the look.

  When she was done, he let out a slow breath.

  "I appreciate the thorough account, Sir Elayne," he said, his voice measured. He turned to us next. "House Marcellis finds itself in your debt once again, Thorvyn and Ragna. I also owe you an apology for our hasty parting after your previous service. We were in the middle of an urgent council meeting, but that's no excuse for poor hospitality."

  I opened my mouth to say something vaguely polite. Ragna beat me to it.

  "You're right about owing us better treatment," she said, leaning forward slightly. "You sent us off like common mercenaries, which is fine if that's what we were, but hmph. In Thalassaria, when we saved their queen and fought off an undead king, she at least fed us properly before sending us back into danger. Seems like Ethenian noble people don’t know what’s the polite thing to do."

  She’s talking too much again. I rubbed at my cheek. Severus' brows went up a hair. "In Thalassaria?" he repeated. "You two were… involved with their recent troubles?"

  Ragna nodded. "Small kingdom by the sea with a nasty civil war problem, yeah? Same place. The food's good and the people know how to say thank you."

  His eyes slid to me.

  "Just to clear any misunderstandings," he said, voice still even, "the two barbarians who were involved in the recent Thalassarian incident... they wouldn't happen to be you two, would they?"

  While Elayne didn’t know, as a noble, Severus seemed up-to-date with national and international politics. He’d heard something. Enough for the words to taste careful.

  I shrugged. There was no point dodging it; I hadn’t exactly told Ragna to hide that news. Even if she didn’t say it, our names would eventually catch up to us, whether we wanted them to or not.

  "If the stories you heard mention a royal brother killing his father, raising him from the dead, and getting his head removed by a pirate prince while his sister bound herself to a crown, then yes. We were there for all of that and more," I replied. "Though I'm sure the details get more interesting with each retelling."

  A small, humorless breath escaped him. It might have been a laugh if he'd had more sleep.

  "So I have the infamous Thorvyn and Ragna Valteria sitting in my council room," he said. "I apologize, I didn’t even entertain the thought that you guys were the same duo since you appeared in our borders so fast after the incidents in Thalassaria. There’s a considerable distance between us, after all. Hmm, you guys must have used teleportation fields.”

  Ragna leaned back in her chair, pleased at the change in attitude. "Come on, don’t trust us so easily now, we might be lying. Go confirm the name with your birds. Like how Thorvyn punched the undead king through a wall, or how I held off an entire cult of Harvesters while the princess completed her ritual."

  Before Severus could let out an awkward laugh and apologize to the rash barbarian girl, a knock sounded on the heavy door.

  He frowned. "Come in."

  A young servant edged inside, eyes flicking from his lord to us and back. He bowed quickly.

  "My lord, the healer asked me to inform you that the Lady has regained consciousness," he said. "She's alert and asking to see you when you have a moment. The effects of the poison seem to have worn off completely."

  Some of the hardness washed out of Severus' face. He stood up at once. "Thank you for bringing this news. We'll go to her chambers immediately," he said. "Elayne, accompany me. Thorvyn, Ragna, we can continue this discussion after–"

  "There's no need to disrupt your meeting on my account, Father."

  The new voice came from the doorway behind the servant.

  We all turned.

  Ilyra Marcellis stepped into the room as if she'd been born to fill doorways.

  The last time I'd seen her, she'd been limp in Ragna's arms, braid dragging over dirt. Now she looked like she'd stepped out of a painting and decided to stretch a bit.

  Tailored cobalt coat with thin gold lines stitched along the seams, and a high collar fastened with a jeweled brooch. She wore a fitted bodice that made it very clear she had more than just bones under that mage's frame. White gloves without a speck of dirt covered her hands, and her boots were polished enough to show a blurred reflection.

  Her hair was still braided, though someone had tamed the flyaways. Her expression was soft and composed, her eyes clear and bright. There was a faint distance there, like her thoughts were half on us and half on something we couldn't see, but she held herself straight just fine.

  I had to wonder when she'd had time to put all of that together. Last I'd checked, she'd been unconscious in a field.

  Healers in this place work faster than tailors back home.

  "Father," she said, dipping her head in a bow that to me was almost formal enough to be mocking, if not for the warmth under it. "I'm perfectly fine, so you can tell the servants to stop looking at me like I'm made of glass. The healers have done their work, and I'm feeling much better now."

  Severus' shoulders eased. For a heartbeat, the careful lord vanished and I saw a tired father. "Ilyra," he said. He came around the table and took her shoulders in his hands, looking her over like Elayne had. "The healer said you needed rest. You shouldn't be walking around so soon after–"

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "I know exactly what the healer said, I was present there, and I've chosen to ignore half of it," she cut in gently. "The powder was strong but not harmful long-term. I just feel like I slept too long in someone else's clothes. I'm more embarrassed than injured."

  Her gaze slid past him and found us.

  It lingered on me for a moment. The corner of her mouth curled in a way that said she was amused and curious. Curiosity made sense, but what had we done to amuse her so much?

  Ragna's jaw shifted. I felt, more than saw, her eyes narrow.

  Ilyra stepped around her father and came closer to our side of the table. Elayne moved to follow, but Severus lifted a hand and let his daughter go. "And hello there," Ilyra said, examining us with undisguised interest. "The brave barbarians who just so happened to interrupt my involuntary excursion. I have you to thank for not spending tonight as a guest of House Velkor."

  She knows it’s House Velkor? The name hadn’t escaped Severus’ but I’d connected the dots from whispers that the abductors were sent by them. Ilyra hadn’t been present when I made that report to her father, so how had she come to find out about it?

  Which means, I realized, they have more than enough reason to suspect the culprit, even without my input.

  "Dragged is a big word," Ragna answered the noble girl. "You're lighter than you look, especially after fighting through seven assassins to reach you."

  That pulled an honest laugh out of the girl.

  "Then 'rescued' might be more accurate than 'dragged,'" she said. She dipped her head slightly. "Either way, you have my sincere gratitude, warriors. I know just enough about young Lord Lothar to know exactly what kind of hospitality he had planned for me, and I'm quite relieved to have avoided experiencing it firsthand."

  “Lord Lothar?”

  “Heir to House Velkor,” she cleared. “Who is also my fiancé.”

  “Oh.”

  It took me a moment to process that. Her fiancé had… sent assassins to abduct her? And the way the room had grown tense, it didn't seem like a prank either.

  Some complicated politics was going on here. Something that our esteemed Count Severus seemed bothered to share with us barbarians, given the way he frowned at his daughter's bluntness.

  I spread my hands. "We don't really care about the details. We were just in the right place at the right time. Very fateful. Hard to ignore something like that."

  She tilted her head, amused. "Fate indeed that you noticed them, but it's your own capabilities that allowed you to win. So you're being far too modest about what must have been a difficult fight," she said. "Is that a Valtherian custom?"

  “We Valtherians love a good fight, but that wasn't it. It was pretty easy,” Ragna admitted.

  This stupid girl, she's losing us money! I cleared my throat. "She's being modest. It wasn't an easy fight given they were all very strong, so we're expecting proper compensation," I added. "Since we're speaking of it, does House Marcellis have a standard payment scale for 'heir retrieval' services, or should we negotiate based on how many assassins we had to kill?"

  Ragna shot me a look. "Thorvyn, I don't mind taking quests but wasn't this purely fate? We shouldn't be accepting money for this! Well, we can, but we shouldn't be so shameless to demand it!”

  I gave her a deadpan look, but she didn't back down.

  Ilyra looked at her father.

  Severus let out a breath that might have been a real laugh if it had more strength behind it.

  "Young warrior lady, your virtue is truly respectable, but House Marcellis dislikes keeping debts. You deserve far more than words for saving the heir," he said. Then he sighed. "In better times, I wouldn't hesitate to offer you gold equal to a year's income for most knights, plus land if you wished to settle. However, the current circumstances make such generosity... difficult."

  He stopped there.

  The pause was heavier than it needed to be. His eyes went briefly toward a corner of the room where no one stood – the space a steward usually took. The minister's absence sat there like a shadow.

  Ilyra's smile thinned. "What my father is reluctant to say is that our House isn't in the financial position it once was," she said, stepping in. There was real regret in her voice this time. "Our resources are stretched thin across multiple fronts. I won't insult your eyes by pretending we're as wealthy as our walls suggest."

  Ragna's brows went up. "Look, I don't really want rewards for this, but how is that even possible? You have endless fields of grain stretching to the horizon," she said, gesturing toward the window. "We walked past enough crops to feed half a kingdom. Are your farmers just planting rocks for decoration, or are you spending all your gold on fancy blue coats?"

  Her tone wasn't cruel. It was baffled and a little cutting, as only a barbarian who'd just watched Maricall's walls and fields could be.

  Severus' jaw clenched, but he didn't bark at her. He took his seat again and rested his palms on the table.

  "I understand your confusion," he said. "To anyone passing through, Maricall appears as prosperous as ever. We control fertile plains that have fed western Ethenia since before my grandfather's time. Ambergrain, beans, root crops – our harvests should be the envy of the empire. But appearances can be deceiving, especially in these troubled years."

  He looked at me as he spoke, not because Ragna's question didn't deserve an answer, but because he'd already decided I'd understand the numbers better.

  "You came from Thalassaria, so you've witnessed firsthand what the drought has done there," he went on. "The same blight that withered their fields began further east, in Erebia. Their rivers run lower each year, their soil grows less responsive to magic, and their hunger makes them impatient. They have gold to spend but demand more for less, changing the terms of contracts that have stood for generations."

  I thought of Isolde's maps, and the sad blighted reaches, the dead fields around Millhaven. Even the ley lines had gone wrong.

  "Our position near the border means we feel the effects first and worst," Severus continued. "The fields may look green from a distance, but they yield a fraction of what they once did. Our earth-mages exhaust themselves for harvests that would have been considered failures ten years ago. Even when the grain grows, it contains less mana than before. The flour spoils faster, the bread gives less strength. Merchants in the capital have noticed, and they're turning to other suppliers who copied our methods years ago and now sell cheaper grain."

  "Ambergrain is hardy and easy to store," I said from what I knew. "Everyone needs it. If they're not buying from you, it's not the crop's fault."

  He nodded once. "Precisely. It's a matter of trust and margins. If a baker in the capital can purchase eight sacks of decent grain anywhere else for the price of ten weaker ones from Maricall, he doesn't care about our history or our name. He cares about feeding his customers tomorrow. Our long-standing contracts with the legions and imperial granaries have been reduced by half in recent years, with the remaining ones constantly being 'renegotiated' to our disadvantage."

  "You mean they're squeezing you dry and acting it's just business," Ragna said.

  "That's an accurate assessment," Severus replied, he looked truly troubled. "We still manage to feed our people and maintain our defenses along the Caedran Line. But where I once could throw gold at problems without a second thought, now I count every silver piece twice before spending it."

  Ilyra's hands rested lightly on the back of his chair. "What Father is trying to say is that we can and will compensate you properly," she said. "We haven't fallen so far that we can't reward those who've saved my life.”

  Then Elayne added, “But we can't be as extravagant as our position might suggest to outsiders."

  Ragna leaned back, absorbing that.

  I hummed, getting curious. "It can't just be the drought affecting the sky. I'm sure there's something wrong under it too. In Thalassaria, the leylines themselves were being poisoned by ritual magic, although their Royal Crown is working to fix it. If Erebia is experimenting with forces they shouldn't touch, the corruption will only spread further west."

  Severus glanced at me, then at Elayne. "You believe this is being deliberately caused? Given you were personally involved in Thalassaria, your input is valuable.”

  "It really isn't. Unless you guys can pull out an Arcane Crown, I can't say how to fix this… Have you guys heard of the Black Concord?”

  The count looked clueless. “I don't believe so.”

  “They're an Evil God Cult, they're the one who created the Undead King among other atrocities in Thalassaria. They worship an Outer God or few, I don't know the details. They're somewhat related to the drought, but I think there's more than that. This is an international secret,” I put my hand in the Spatial Pouch and took out the Royal Badge that Isolde had given me to use when and if I wanted to represent Thalassaria. “But I think it'll be wise to keep an eye out for that name. If Erebia truly is in a desperate situation, they might listen to anyone promising rain, even if the price comes due later when it's too late to refuse payment. Don't be Erebia.”

  The count, Elayne, and Ilyra exchanged glances. Then he nodded.

  Ilyra watched me with new interest.

  "It seems we have more common ground than I initially thought," she said. "But we were discussing your reward, not sharing grim forecasts about the empire's future." Her smile returned, lighter than before. "Since coin is more limited than our pride would like to admit, we can offer other forms of compensation.”

  “And that would be…”

  “If you're agreeable, you could stay here in the palace while you're in Maricall. It's not the imperial castle, but it's certainly better than the inn you're staying at. You can enjoy full guest privileges, including access to our training grounds, our library, and whatever else my father is willing to provide."

  She glanced at him with a grin that didn't quite hide the challenge.

  Severus huffed, almost amused. The man was a cautious one, but he gave a great deal of trust to his daughter.

  "Within reasonable limits," he said. "We still have a household to run. But yes, we can offer you chambers inside the inner wall, proper meals, and facilities that aren't available to common mercenaries. It's the least we can do after what you've accomplished."

  That's good. I was wondering how I'd stay close to this Ilyra to help Ragna complete her quest. This just made things easier.

  Ragna looked interested too, although for different reasons. "I hope your knights can give me a decent workout for a change."

  Elayne snorted. "Don't get overconfident just because you've knocked around a few assassins," she said. "Our training regimen has broken tougher recruits than you."

  Ragna burst into such a loud laugh that the room fell awkward. When she showed no sign of stopping, I cleared my throat and nudged them to continue.

  Ilyra watched our exchange with a kind of quiet amusement, then straightened.

  "Then it's settled," she said. "We'll prepare the rooms. You'll stay with us as honored guests of House Marcellis for as long as you remain in our territory.”

  I met Ragna's gaze. She gave a small shrug that said this works for now.

  "Alright now that that's out of the way," I said. "There's something else you should know that might make this arrangement even more interesting for all of us."

  Both Marcellises looked at me more sharply at that.

  I nodded toward Ragna. "I was wondering how to bring this up, but my companion here is trying to complete an Ascension Quest," I noticed their curious gaze. "The System wants Ragna to keep your heir, Ilyra Marcellis, safe for a month.”

  “What?”

  "And if my hunch is correct," I added, "this kidnapping was just the beginning. There’ll be more attempts before this month is over. Kidnapping and more."

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