The Mournful King

IV. Messengers

"...are we to continue to trust in the strength of the border wardens and walls? If the Kindly One can reach this far, how long until her undead hordes are at the gates of Tamaris? They horrify men, they terrify horses, they devour cities! And then there are the demons!"

"Speak not to me of demons, Diarmuid." That voice the Silent recognized as Lord Astor.

The pair hesitated outside the door to the war room, exchanging an apprehensive glance. One of the guards knocked for them and Andraste squared her shoulders. It didn't sound like the conversation was going quite as well as they might have hoped. The guard stepped in and saluted his liege. "We have the two who killed the demon."

A gentle nudge from behind prompted the Silent to hobble closer. He knew he looked terrible, his hair wild and his beard matted with blood. His shirt was in tatters and much of the skin beneath was scraped even as it healed the worst of the damage. His pants had ripped at one knee. If ever there were a picture of impoverished misfortune, it would have been the Silent. Andraste was more put together and her clothes were clean, but a livid bruise had formed on her cheek and she had blood spatters across her face, neck, and hands. Neither of them had washed up much, too preoccupied with fetching the horse and their belongings so they could leave in a hurry.

Lord Astor was a handsome man in his late fifties, though stress had graven his face with lines. He stood tall and proud like a statue, his eyes humorless. The picture of Yssan old nobility, Astor was everything the Silent hated about the country. Uneducated, nauseatingly narrow-minded, vicious, and arrogant. Perhaps he had some redeeming qualities, but the Silent sincerely doubted it. His eyes fixed on Andraste. "You are a knight? And this man is your ruffian, I assume."

"A soldier, my lord," Andraste said politely. "My homeland does not have knights. The Silent is my ally, not my servant."

Astor studied the pair of them for a long moment. "I suppose it has no matter. You are both here because you saved Arduinna.  Niall the Farrier spoke highly of the pair of you. My people and I owe you a great debt."

The Silent didn't relax. He knew an unspoken but when he heard one. No doubt something unpleasant was now in their future.

The lord seemed to sense their apprehension and frowned disapprovingly. He was a man used to having his will obeyed. "I need a messenger who can carry word of the incursion to Tamaris, a messenger capable of moving quietly while able to repel any demonic attackers. You and your ruffian have proven capable of doing so."

Andraste nodded reluctantly. The Silent knew that making straight for Tamaris would be a departure from her intent to go to Laweden. "Who should I inform, my lord?"

"His Majesty, if you can secure an audience with him. I will give you my signet. That should convince him that you are worth his time." Astor took off his ring and approached Andraste. He set the large golden ring in her open palm. "I am trusting you, stranger. Abuse that trust and there will be a wrath from me like you cannot imagine."

The Silent smiled humorlessly. As if some Yssan noble knew what true punishment was. For a brief moment, he saw a similar sentiment in Andraste's eyes. She was more adept at concealing it. "Of course, my lord." Her expression remained serious.

Astor nodded approvingly, pointedly ignoring the Silent. "Leave at once. Time cannot be wasted."

"My companion will require a horse if we are to make haste, my lord," Andraste said.

The Yssan lord glanced over at the Silent. "Does he know how to ride? My stables have warhorses and little else." It wasn't common for Yssan peasants to ride. Peasant horses were for work in the fields more than transportation.