The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 648
Lyonette nodded cautiously, trying to dredge up half-remembered lessons.
“I think so. It’s just an addition, so you can change classes and transform it like normal. It just makes, you, well, better.”
She paused as Krshia mulled this over, and then had a crazy thought. She spoke before her courage failed her.
“Would you like me to give one to you?”
Krshia choked on her tea and nearly sprayed it all over Lyonette. When she’d finished coughing, she looked at the [Princess].
“You are joking.”
“No.”
Lyonette met her gaze, her legs trembling wildly.
“I’m serious. I could give it to you if you want.”
“Why? I am not your subject. And such a gift—”
“I gave Brunkr a [Knight] class. I think…well, I just think that he’d want me to help you if I could. And that’s the only thing I can do.”
Krshia looked at Lyonette. She sat back in her chair, speechless. When she spoke, it was distantly.
“Say I accept. I would receive a royal title and…nothing else? It would be a gift, yes, not an obligation?”
Lyonette hesitated. She frowned and gulped some tea.
“I don’t know. It’s been years—decades, really since my family gave their blessing to anyone. We make [Knights] and [Lords] and so on, but businesses are different. It’s…I can remember my grandmother knew a fruit seller who she made royal. I think it helped her business, but I can’t remember if it did anything else. You don’t have to, I’m just offering…”
“I see. But if it is so useful, why have your family not appointed more? Surely it would help your kingdom. What stays their paws…hands?”
“Trust, perhaps.”
Lyonette looked wistfully up at the ceiling. She shook her head in response to Krshia’s confusion.
“It’s just…you see, it’s so political back home. If my family gave a [Merchant] a royal blessing and he started working for another country, or denounced our kingdom, it would be a scandal, you see. And it’s not as if my family meets with many ordinary people that often. Not that I think you’re ordinary! I…”
“I know what you mean. So. That is what you offer and it is for me to accept or not. From what you say the risk is small. However.”
Krshia got up and walked back and forth for a few seconds. Lyonette looked at her anxiously, regretting opening her mouth. Why had she said that? And yet—she remembered Brunkr and couldn’t regret offering.
At last, Krshia slowed. She sat down heavily in front of Lyonette and looked around. Lyonette did too. Krshia’s apartment wasn’t large, but it was comfortable, and showed many years of care and hard work. The [Barmaid] remembered that Krshia had apparently come to Liscor decades ago to work.
“It has been long, and I have worked hard to get to where I am. I lost much.”
Krshia raised her paw to forestall Lyonette.
“Much. Material goods and money…but I received a gift far greater than that in return from Ryoka Griffin. I do not begrudge you that. As for my nephew, I ache. Now I must rebuild, and yet I asked myself the other day whether it was worth trying, if I had the strength to do so another time. And now a gift is offered, unprompted. Would I be a fool not to take it?”
Lyonette held her breath. The Gnoll nodded.
“All things change. This is what we Gnolls know. To stay the same is to be a fool. So you offer and I respond thusly: yes. Lyonette, if you will give me a blessing, a royal title, I would accept with gratitude.”
She stared at the [Princess], and Lyonette stood. She trembled with nerves as much as anything else. She raised a hand and Krshia looked up.
“Hrr. Should I kneel?”
“No. I can…no. I just need to say a few words.”
Lyonette took a few breaths. She felt…she remembered staring at a Gnoll’s back, her legs and arms covered in sweat, holding a sword and feeling the skin of her palms sting. She blinked, and Krshia was looking up at her, waiting. Lyonette spoke, and felt a shiver as the words spun out from her heart. Ancient words. Familiar words. True words.
“I, Lyonette du Marquin do solemnly grant you, Krshia Silverfang and whatever business you pursue my royal favor, now and unto perpetuity. You who have forgiven when we did not deserve it. You, whose kin we called friend however briefly. You, who have lost much—we offer our small blessing. Let the world know you are favored and that favor grant you all the riches you wish for.”
She reached out and touched Krshia on the brow. The Gnoll bowed her head and Lyonette waited a second. Then she withdrew her hand. It was over.
“Did it…work?”
She looked at Krshia. The Gnoll blinked and touched the spot on her head, wrinkling her brows. She rolled her shoulders and sniffed the air and looked at Lyonette, tilting her head from side to side and shrugging.
“Hrm. I do not know. I do not feel different. But perhaps…let me sleep on it.”
She grinned, showing her teeth, and Lyonette smiled as well. There was a moment where the past was forgotten and they were just enjoying themselves. Two people, one step closer to becoming something like friends. Then it passed, leaving everything different. Krshia raised her tea pot.
“More tea?”
Lyonette gulped. She looked at Krshia and smiled guiltily.
“Maybe. But first…could you tell me where the bathroom is?”
—-
“Bow, Human worm!”
“No, you bow, you jerk!”
The Wandering Inn was full of shouting voices. Two in particular. Ilvriss staggered as Erin hit him with her authority, trying to force him down. The air was thick around the Drake, but his own aura of command pushed hers back. He pointed.
“I will not stomach such insolence from a Human!”
“Oh yeah? Oh yeah?”
The Drake [Lord] and Human [Innkeeper] circled each other like angry pigeons, trading insults, fighting with their respective auras. They circled rapidly, and then walked, and then finally sat and snapped at each other. Erin wiped sweat from her forehead and accepted a glass of water from Ishkr. Ilvriss looked up with bloodshot eyes and waved at the Gnoll.
“Give me a drink.”
Ishkr looked at Erin. She nodded and leaned back in her chair, exhausted. Mrsha leapt onto the table and licked her face.
“Give him something, Ishkr. I’ll kick him out if he’s being a jerk.”
“I’d rather leave…than stay at a Human inn.”
Ilvriss sat upright, looking hung over and miserable. Erin pointed to the door with a hand that shook.
“Go for it, buddy. It’s a nice walk through the slush.”
Ilvriss considered this and leaned back in his chair as Ishkr came out with a cup of cold water.
“I don’t answer to you, Human.”
He grimaced as he drank from the cup.
“Water? What am I, impoverished? Get me something stronger! Alcohol if you even serve it. Not some cheap ale, but a proper Drake drink, like Firebreath Whiskey!”
The Wall Lord snapped at Ishkr, forcing the Gnoll to hurry behind the bar. The Drake did drink the water, though. Erin eyed Ilvriss.
“Haven’t you already had enough? You’re drunk already.”
“So? My affairs are none of your business. I will have you know that I am in mourning. I grieve and my drinking is thus excusable.”
Ilvriss grimaced as Ishkr came back with a mug brimming with the fiery orange liquid that had done so much damage to Seborn and Jelaqua yesterday. Erin glanced at the mug and then at Ilvriss.
“Is that because of Ulrien? Or Brunkr?”
“Who?”
The inn went quiet. Ilvriss looked around and grimaced.
“Ah. The two casualties of the Named Adventurer and her accomplice? No. This is…personal.”
He lifted the mug and drank down what must have been at least five shots of whiskey. Erin saw Jelaqua put a hand to her mouth, but Ilvriss only swayed a bit in his seat as he finished. He thrust the mug at Ishkr and the Gnoll sighed. Erin stared at him and raised her voice.
“No alcohol for the Wall Lord, Ishkr. Give him something else like milk and honey.”
“Milk and—who are you to dictate what I drink?”
“The [Innkeeper]. And it seems like you’re pretty upset, buddy. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Erin scooted her chair over towards Ilvriss’ table. He eyed her, but seemingly didn’t have the energy to move away. Instead he put out a long-suffering sigh as Ishkr came back with warm milk and honey, a Mrsha favorite.
“So this is how far I’ve sunk, to be denied drinks at a Human establishment. If Periss could see me now…”
He shook his head, slumping in his chair as the shots of Firebreath Whiskey hit him all at once. Erin looked at the Wall Lord.
“Who’s Periss?”
“None of your business. And if you think I’ll drink this swill—what are you doing?”
Ilvriss was pushing away the mug when Mrsha leapt up onto his table. The Gnoll was staring at his mug and the Wall Lord instinctively drew it closer to him. Erin smiled.
“That’s Mrsha. She wants a drink. Ishkr! Can you make one for Mrsha? Thanks! Try it, why don’t you? It’s good?”
The Drake stared at Mrsha, who was eying his drink with clear desire. There was possibly no better endorsement than the longing on her small face. Cautiously, he sipped at the milk and his eyes widened.
“Sweet!”
“Isn’t it? We get Ashfire Bee honey here so we can make a lot of sugary stuff. This is a house special.”
As Erin had observed, sugar was a rare treat even for the rich in this world. Ilvriss began sipping at his drink and Mrsha, once she’d gotten her own mug, began happily lapping it up. Erin looked around.
The Horns of Hammerad were staring at her, and the Halfseekers were eating a very, very late breakfast. As for the Goblins…Ilvriss glanced at Headscratcher and Shorthilt as they paused in maintaining the small bucklers they carried into combat.
“So those are the Goblins. Hmf. I can see why this inn is abandoned. Tell me, Human. Are you insane, or just odd as Shivertail claims?”
It took Erin a moment to realize he was talking about Zel, not Selys. She made a face at him.
“I’m not odd! I just think Goblins are people, and they saved my life! Besides, they haven’t hurt anyone. If you’re afraid they’re going to mug you, well…they won’t!”
Headscratcher nodded. Shorthilt paused and eyed Ilvriss’ rings until the other Hobgoblin jabbed him in the ribs. Ilvriss snorted.
“I am not afraid. Disgust keeps me from patronizing this establishment, not fear. I am capable of slaying however many Hobgoblins that infest this inn myself.”
He put a hand on the hilt of his sword and both of the Hobs growled. Headscratcher eyed Ilvriss, and Erin sat up, scowling.
“Stop bullying them! Can’t you not be a jerk for five seconds? I thought [Lords] were supposed to be noble, but you don’t act like it!”
Ilvriss glared back.
“I am a Lord of the Wall. I realize that means little to you, but it is my sworn duty to defend my city and Drakes as a whole from enemies of our king. Goblins are one such threat. Traitors the other, which is why I fought to defend you with Shivertail in this very inn despite my hatred for all Humans. Do not lecture me about duty.”
Erin fell silent. She saw Ishkr pause as he went about the inn and the Halfseekers stop eating.
“Oh. Right. You did help. Thank you.”
She hadn’t asked for his help, but when she’d talked to Zel before confronting Regrika, he’d mentioned that he would bring someone he thought could help. By all accounts, Ilvriss had risked his life fighting in the city when he and Zel had been teleported.
There was a silence as Ilvriss looked at Erin and then around, noticing the silence his words had caused. Mrsha stopped lapping at her drink and curled up into a ball on the table. The Drake stared at her and then at Erin’s face. Then he sighed.
“…I should be the one apologizing to you, Human.”
“What?”
Ilvriss sat a bit straighter and his voice was less slurred as he looked at Erin.
“It was my weakness that allowed Regrika Blackpaw and the traitor with her to escape. That they slew a Gold-rank adventurer…this was my fault and I apologize to you for it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Erin spoke automatically. Ilvriss glared at her.
“It was. Do not interrupt! It was my fault. Perhaps we were all at fault for underestimating our foes. Perhaps. But while Shivertail may have been the highest-level warrior there, I am most at fault. For I am a Lord of the Wall. When I fail, my failure is greater than any other. Thus I take responsibility. If you have any hatred, any regrets for what transpired, know that I am to blame.”
He sat straight and tall, both apologetic and proud at the same time. Mrsha uncurled to look at him and Erin closed her mouth. She frowned at Ilvriss.
“You keep saying you’re a Lord of the Wall. But what does that really mean? You’re a [Lord] in one of the Walled Cities, right? Is that really that special?”
Ilvriss’ eyes flashed.
“More than special! We are nobility whose lineage extends back to the age of Ancestors, of Dragons! We built the Walled Cities with their help, to shelter our people. And though millennia have passed, my role is the same. To lead and inspire Drakes, to defend our home from any invaders, to pass justice as I see fit, to hold others of my station accountable. It is an honor, a calling, and a privilege. That is what it means to be Lord of the Wall.”
There was a brief silence after he had finished. Then a lapping. Mrsha tilted her mug and slurped loudly. Ilvriss looked at her. Erin rested her chin on her hands.
“So if you’re that important, why did you come all the way to Liscor? Shouldn’t you be at your Walled City, defending it?”
The Drake hesitated. He bowed his head.
“Yes. I should be. But I came here searching for the truth. The truth which your Runner friend hid. And which…I have now uncovered. Ah. Periss.”
He slumped again, and Erin saw Pisces look up at his table speculatively. She wondered what she should do, but it was Mrsha who padded over on the table and awkwardly patted Ilvriss on the shoulder. He stared at her and she sat by him, sipping from her mug.
“It sounds like she was really special to you.”
“She was. She was glorious, brave, a fine officer and more. If I had known….”
Perhaps it was the drink, perhaps it was the absurdity of it. Ilvriss sat and drank his honeyed milk. Erin pulled her chair up to the table and patted his shoulder as the Drake bent over his mug.
“Come on, tell me all about it.”
He did. It was a confusing story, full of forbidden romance with a subordinate, chance meetings, battlefield exploits and close calls. And sex. Erin carefully put her hands over Mrsha’s ears when Ilvriss got to any lewdness. He was drunk and not a good storyteller, despite what he might have believed, but one thing was clear.
He had loved her. And now she was gone. Ilvriss finished one mug of milk, and then two and Mrsha matched him for every sip. And when he had finished, Erin sat with him and patted his shoulder.
“I’ll get you back to Pallass. Don’t you worry.”
“I—thank you. I have no remains to inter, but I must notify her family in person and—and see to fitting funeral arrangements.”
Ilvriss stared at the table. He looked so wretched that Erin called for some food. Mrsha wagged her tail. Ilvriss looked up as Ishkr brought him lunch.
“What is this?”
“Soufflé. It’s egg and cheese and carrot and…it’s good, okay? Hot, too.”
“There is no way you could have made it quickly. Unless—is the Gnoll a [Chef]?”
“Nope. I’m the cook around here. But I have a food preservation skill. Go on, try it.”
“Human cooking? I think I’ll pass—”
Ilvriss’ stomach rumbled as he pushed away the bowl. He stared at Erin and she grinned at him.
“Go on. Or Mrsha will eat it. Mrsha, no. You’re getting your own. See? Ishkr has it right there. Be a good girl and sit down. Not on the table.”
The Gnoll did, patting the table happily as Ishkr gave her a fork and warned her not to eat fast since the soufflé was hot. Grudgingly, Ilvriss emulated Mrsha’s example. He was clearly trying to eat just so he could disparage Erin’s cooking, but soon he was scraping the bowl with his fork.
“Not…bad. I will have another.”
“Really? Good! Hey, when you go to Pallass, I wonder if I can find a way to make the door transport a bunch of people at once. I bet the Drakes there haven’t had anything like my cooking!”
Ilvriss coughed, looking somewhat more alert after what might have been his first meal of the day. He hesitated as he glanced towards the magical door.
“Pallass. Yes. I forgot how inconvenient that might be.”
“What?”
Erin looked at him. The Wall Lord grimaced.
“The Courier is not the issue. It is…personal. As a Wall Lord of another Walled City, my entering Pallass will result in political strife. I have enemies who would impede me.”
“Oh. There are jerks in Pallass too, huh?”
“It is amazing how your crude Human expressions come so close to the truth.”
Ilvriss sighed. He looked at the second soufflé and poked at the puffy crust with his fork. Mrsha waved for a second one and Ishkr sighed again.
“Well, I will not have to worry about that issue for a few days at least. Enough time to make preparations.”
He began to bite into his meal. Erin saw Pisces sit up.
“Pardon me, but you said a few days? How far is Pallass exactly? Most maps I ah, have read refuse to give the exact distance as a matter of Drake security.”
The Lord of the Wall might have been persuaded to talk to Erin and Mrsha, but he clearly wasn’t happy about being addressed by Humans. He gave Pisces an arch look which the [Mage] returned and grudgingly replied.
“About the same distance as Invrisil. Four hundred miles give or take. More like three hundred and eighty.”
