The Father of Withering

Chapter One: Preparations

They would be leaving soon.

The office of Steward Benarus had more books in it than the last time Relma had seen it. And he'd read virtually all of them enough to put creases in the covers. Given how many books there had been, that was saying something. Benarus was a collector, and one of the libraries he'd funded had nearly burned down. Until the repairs were finished, those surviving books had been moved. Fortunately, Relma had been able to get the fire to avoid them.

As they approached the desk, Benarus shook Estela's hand with a look of clear pride. Relma knew they were close, though she had never found it in herself to respect Benarus. Not since the Tournament of Kings, anyway. The memory of him ignoring justice for convenience was still on her. Though she would never say as much out loud. "Lady Estela, I've been expecting you. Please, sit down." He sat down in his elaborate chair. Estela did the same while Relma remained just behind the seat, standing. "Then, you will be leaving soon?"

"Yes, we've already made most of the arrangements," said Estela. "And we'd have to set out sooner or later."

"That I will not dispute, Lady Estela," said Benarus with a smile. "Gel Carn will be less bright for your absence, however. Sir Frederick and many others have already gone west to the Black Marshes as things stand. There may be a battle for them to fight soon enough.

"Still, are you sure of the route? The Black Marshes have never been safe, and word from Lord Anias is that the satyrs are mustering. It may be wise to reconsider."

"Didn't Lord Anias deny that report," asked Estela.

"He did," admitted Benarus, looking a bit grim. He leaned back in his chair and looked over the stacks and stacks of books. "But Lord Anias is not a man I am fond of, nor have I learned to rely on him. He is... self-interested and more than a little slothful. I trust Anton far more. If I were you, I should head south, over the Golden River, and go around the Black Marshes. It may take a few extra weeks, but you will dodge a much more dangerous journey. One that could leave a large part of your forces dead."

Ever the cautious, never the bold. Though there was merit in the suggestion, Relma knew Estela would not listen.

"I understand that Steward Benarus," said Estela. "However, I'm going to have to take the chance. The Kingdom of Estal is nearly bankrupt. Stormstrike is contemplating rebellion, and the Dragon Empire is mustering to the south. My winnings from the treasury will be needed to raise an army.

"And pay off several debts that may cause others to side against us."

"Well, you've decided then, and I don't intend to say any more on it," said Benarus.

He sighed and looked out one window into the castle courtyard. They were still cleaning up from the tournament. Finally, he looked back. "You've been with us since you were twelve. You were something of a troublemaker in your youth, Lady Estela. But your service has been invaluable to me." Both of those were probably polite understatements. "You have my leave, of course." He fell silent for a moment. "That said, your request to take Ajax with you is..."

"Yes?" asked Estela.

"Well, it is not one I chose to grant lightly," said Benarus. "But, he does know the Black Marshes better than anyone, so he is the best choice.