Our Little Gods 1: RABATEA, the first World of the Daughters.

Chapter 14.

The room was packed with officials and courtiers from both Feroll and Gash. A self-important herald stopped him on his way in to ask for his name. Baalbek had not bothered changing clothes and was still in battle garb, there was blood splattered on his shield shoulder, drying in dark brown patches, his face was haled with sooth and dust from the ride and he smelled of burnt wood, sweat and grime. He stopped long enough to look the herald in the eyes and walked in, unannounced. Clearly he had reached the centre of the beehive, the room was divided in two by rows of tables that had been informally pushed aside and seats were distributed randomly as if people had left recently. On one side there were four Ferollian talking quietly. They nodded to Baalbek when he entered and one of them even smiled. That was Terralek the son of a dignitary back home that Baalbek had had the dubious pleasure of meeting several time. The other two he did not know. The main group clustered the far side of the room. Their garb was mainly Gashite and Baalbek recognized one of their general he had defeated the last quarter of winter and freed on ransom. He had learned to like the man. They had the same views on humanity and on the war. He came up to the back of the group and stopped. He raised his voice and said aloud. "I have been commanded to present myself to Master Limero." The silence was instantaneous. The gashites turned as one to face him and seem to shrink in size as soon as they realized who it was. Except the general he had defeated. He pushed aside two courtiers and walked to Baalbek and gave him the ritual bow.

"Congratulation on today's great victory. I believe it has played a major part in securing the peace." Then he bowed again and as Baalbek bowed in return he whispered.

"Thanks, but that congratulation is definitely going to cost you back home." The man winked and walked away. Baalbek was now looking at the queen bee. He had never heard of the man named Limero. He was clearly of the Triad. Which made sense since both Feroll and Gash were triadic realms. But he had never heard of healers being called at negotiation tables in case of border or territorial disputes. One usually went to the Triad to deposit a copy of a treaty for safe and sacred keeping. He had been expecting some fat monk full of himself. Instead it was a lean man in nondescript monks robes, with thick white hair and an open benevolent clean shaven face. The man simply said "leave us" in conversational tones, to Baalbek's astonishment every single person in the room left.

An hour later the general opened the door and left Limero saying.

"My men will remove the boys back to Si-Napel this instant, my ship is ready to sail on the hour and I trust the crew with my life. Do you have more work to be done here or shall we make sail as soon as?"

"I shall thank the town master for his hospitality and be right with you." Limero replied a smile on his lips. He was finding the efficiency of the general pleasing. There was something to be said for allowing another to take the reins and lead on.

***

Maasil cleared his throat and looked at his master stretched out on his cot. He looked back at the maps spread out in front of him but they only furthered his puzzlement and the frustration finally pushed him to speak:

"Master if I may, why are we sailing back to the city of Sekk in Ziom?"

At first the only visible sign that Limero had heard his novice was the smile that appeared on his lips. They had been sailing on the general's slender ship for half a day already and the fast sailing vessel was making good progress.

"Why do you ask Maasil?"

The boy looked back down at his maps and said.

"Well, if the maps are correct and we are indeed going to the ruins of Nag the shortest route from where we were would have been to cross the Pellian hinterland to the Ignaiens' feet and from there to follow the down side of the mountains until we reached the royal road leading straight to the ruins." Maasil looked up inquisitively at Limero as this one was sitting up at the foot of his cot and reaching out to the tankard of water on the table. The novice stood up and poured some water in the ceramic goblet before handing it to Limero. "Thanks, you are correct in your assessment of the geographical situation, there are some elements you need to factor in your calculations that I haven't told you yet." Limero, drank and started fitting his boots on.