The Nameless

Chapter Five: "A Minor Mutiny"

The girl's welcome was not exactly warm. In fact, it wasn't exactly a welcome. At the less-than-grand gates, a slot opened and a face peered out, but instead of asking what their business was, he immediately asked for help.

"Are you here to help sort this out?"

"Uh," the girl said.

"No," the otter in charge of the party said. "We are not. We are delivering this nameless girl at the request of one of your number. I expect he'll have arrived by now as well."

There was hesitation on the other side of the door, and the man bit his fingernails nervously. If it had not been such a surprise, and something so out of place at that particular moment, the girl would have recognized what was on the guard's face immediately: it was fear.

"I...I suppose she can come in. Yes, that's the thing. They'll have to stop then."

With this confidence-lacking declaration, there was a loud sliding sound of a lock, and the door opened inwards.

"Here is where we leave you," the otter in charge said, bowing slightly. "King Muir extends to you an open invitation, and also this." The otter took from somewhere behind his back, the girl knew not where, a small cloak. It was a child's cloak, the perfect size for the girl with the braids. It was the deep blue of the water of Nameless Lake and seemed to move as water does when flourished. With her permission, the otter fastened it around her neck with a clasp shaped like a log.

"It is in our estimation, the most waterproof cloak in existence. It is akin to our own fur, and should not hold water under any circumstance."

With a final bow, this time from all four otters, they departed, their spears held aloft as they sped away down the path they had arrived upon.

"Odd fellows huh?" the guard said, bringing the girl out of her stunned reverie.

"I think they're wonderful."

"Each to each I suppose," he said. "Well, let's see what you can do?"

"Pardon?"

"I was hoping you might represent a temporary solution to a problem we have at present."

"What's that?"

"Oh, just a minor mutiny."

"A mutiny?! What does that mean exactly?"

"One of our own has directly disobeyed the word of the council. Can't go doing that. He's stirred up quite a scene in the grand chambers."

"Take me there," the girl said, feigning a confidence she did not feel.

"That was my plan. Have to close up ranks in the presence of a newcomer right? Recruitment and all that. Come along then."

The man, who was rather short and portly, and whose feet were awfully splayed, waddled ahead of the girl at a surprising speed, and she struggled to keep up. If she thought she had been confused in the tunnels of Lakre Muir, that had been nothing compared to the halls of Fordham. After the seventh turn and fourth flight of stairs, three up and one down, she gave up trying to keep track of where they were in relation to where they had been. Finally, they came to a widening hall that lead to large doors bookended by strange torches without flame.

"Through there," the guard said, pointing to the doors.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"See, the thing is...someone's supposed to be at the gate and-"

"Well alright then," the girl said. "I'll go by myself."

The guard did not need to be told again, and he quickly disappeared, shuffling away, again attaining a speed that seemed nigh on impossible for a man of his size and build. The girl took a deep breath and faced the doors. Once a calm had come over her, she grasped a massive, iron handle and pulled.