The Calamitous Bob 93: What goes around (Patreon)

Viv expected much from the aftermath of the Herald’s death, most of it bad. The village had lost almost one person in five. It was a tragedy, one that should logically lead people to be dicks and blame her for not doing more. It did not happen, however. In fact, the villagers were abjectly grateful and treated her like a complete hero. She was blessed in the name of every god and called a champion of good and civilization.

It felt nice.

The villagers did not stop to grieve. While a few burly men built a pyre for the deceased, the rest of them dedicated their efforts towards harvesting spider parts and conserving them. Between Viv, Solfis, Arthur and Marruk, the group had made enough meat to last the village through winter. The air was thick with wood smoke and grilled… seafood.

Viv had sort of given up on horror after watching Ardek, the remaining hunter, dismantling a carcass. She was beyond that. As expected, the creature didn’t share the biology of its earthen counterpart. It had lungs. And a large brain. It was weird as hell, because the outside was similar but the innards were completely different. It asked some metaphysical question Viv had no answer for.

The interesting part were the leg muscles. The corded, pale flesh reminded her a bit of crab and she was kind of missing it, so she finally decided to give in and requested spider to be prepared for her. The villagers were absolutely delighted to oblige. They made a feast out of it and gave her perfectly seared skewers with fresh vegetables and the juice of something lemony.

It was absolutely delicious.

Viv decided that after all that bullshit, eating your dead opponent was an acceptable form of revenge after all and realized she was missing white wine terribly. And mayonnaise. In the afternoon, with a table placed in the middle of the field and Arthur kept entertained by the village’s small children, Viv placed her back against her rustic chair and finally relaxed.

Viv gave herself two days before leaving. One reason was that she was tired from over a month on the road. It was not just physical fatigue. She was fed up with traveling every day through forest, forest, and more forest. Also trees. Occasionally meadows and copses. Fed up, really. The second reason was that Ardek directed the food preservation efforts as someone whose path dealt with being scrappy and efficient. He was the star of the show and his insights would make a huge difference.

They had a nice ceremony on the first evening to spread the ashes of those who had fallen as victims to Octas and her machinations. The alderman named Kordek among the first victims of his deranged wife.

Her patience (it was patience and totally not laziness) was rewarded on the second day when the villagers brought her sauteed queen face muscles in vinegar sauce and a large core attuned to brown and life mana, with just a bit of dark. Honestly, it was hard to say which one pleased her more. They were both magically active.

“Can we use this to refill your energy?” Viv asked Solfis while rubbing Arthur’s belly. The dragonette was gorging from dawn to dusk and Viv thought she had even grown a little bit.

//Yes, Your Grace, but it would require time and effort to readjust my frame.

//On a related note, you could not recharge this specific core efficiently.

//Because its attunement to black mana is very low.

That was one thing she had not considered. The core on her dagger was black attuned and so she could charge it without isse. Solfis’ core used to belong to a dragon and was apparently attuned to every form of mana. The queen’s core could only be recharged with transparent mana, and that was extremely inefficient. She would be stuck with manually recharging Solfis for a while and hope they didn’t come across anything too problematic, because he had less than a minute of autonomy at normal power and that wouldn’t get them very far.

Finally, it was time to leave. Viv regretted that she would not get the full culinary experience of oven spider, sauteed spider, spider skewers, roasted spider and crispy spider, but duty called. Or to be precise, she wanted to get to fucking Helock. The villagers sent her off with prayers and demonstrations of affection but even the most naive earthling would have realized that they were glad to see the back of her so they could fully focus on rebuilding the village. As promised, Ardek guided them.

Viv still got spider sandwiches with a leafy green that tasted a bit like garden cress. Quite nice.

The group left north east, towards lake Hydon where they could take a ship. At first, they avoided the few isolated villages on the way, but Ardek convinced Viv to go to the nearest town for supplies after a week of travel.

“We will get fresh food and I can get information on what is happening locally. Moving with you is not like moving alone. We are slower and we are out of rations.”

“What do you usually do alone?”

“I forage for food. You three just eat so much. Just your Arthur can eat three harriens per day! Per day! We will run out long before reaching the lake.”

Viv debated going with him, but she was still wanted. Revealing herself just before boarding the ship was one thing. Letting every bounty hunter know of her approximate location while she had no way to move fast was another. As for Ardek committing an indiscretion, he had sworn an oath not to reveal her presence so she wasn’t too worried.

The town itself was called Lesso, and they stopped in a prairie not far from its walls. Viv relaxed there while the hunter purchased what they had to get. He returned laden with provisions and significantly more relaxed.

“The posters are still up, milady. They’re pretty good!”

“Yes,” Viv glowered, “I noticed.”

Spring was slowly progressing. Every tree was in bloom, which made their trip rather pleasant. Whatever fucked up deity had created this world had not included magical mosquitoes or perhaps they were not endemic to this region. In any case, things were pleasant enough while they moved through smaller paths and secondary roads. Ardek still had them give most villages a wild berth, since the bounty hunters were looking for a witch, a Kark, and a ‘drake’.

“I am not sorry for being me!” Marruk grumbled one evening after looking constipated for an hour. Viv had been wondering what was wrong with her.

“If you were not here, they would still be looking for a witch and a drake,” Viv replied.

“Yes. Yeah! I’m not making it worse,” the proud Kark told herself.

Ardek interrupted them, then.

“We should stop here for tonight, this is a good spot.”

Viv saw a small brook where they could wash, and there were trees blocking the sight. The forest was growing thinner and cultivated land more common the farther they went. They currently stood on a slope that extended for at least a kilometer, leading to a small town. Light was falling and a few torches already shone in the distance.

“This is Seldon-upon-Tane. From here on, it’s full north all the way to Losserec, the capital city. We are east compared to the path I’d normally take but don’t worry, I can find our way.”

That didn’t fill Viv with confidence. The scrappy youth was unfazed by her clear display.

“What I don’t know, I can ask.”

Viv shrugged and busied herself setting camp and loading Solfis. The golem had been on low consumption mode ever since the battle. Even with Viv working on him every night, he was still very low on reserves. The issue here was that she didn’t have a charging station he could use, and just pushing mana manually was a slow and inefficient process. Marruk soon called to say that food was ready. Viv helped herself to a bowl of porridge and hoped they’d get something less boring next town over. She got a spoonful in when a bright light shone near her hand.

“What the fuck?”

A sleepy Marruk just gawped at the source of light on Viv’s finger. Viv’s danger sense was still silent. It took her almost a second to realize what was going on. She stood up in a rush and fell forward, head swimming.

//The antidote, Your Grace.

“Fuck. Poison. POISON!”

Fortunately, she was still prepared from the spider days and grabbed a phial from a pocket on her chest. She downed it and felt immediately more alert. The spoon fell from Marruk’s hand. The mighty woman tilted forward.

“Dammit. Ardek! Ardek?”

Only now did she realize that the boy had disappeared. Panic flooded her system, waking her up. Her heart beat frantically. She jumped on the Kark woman and forced an antidote dose between her red lips.

“Come on come on come on.”

Marruk reflexively gulped it down and blinked.

“Whu?”

“No time. Take Solfis, we gotta run. What the hell?”

Just then a flare took off from a nearby thicket. Viv turned her head quickly enough to see Ardek’s illuminated face. He looked awfully calm. It pissed Viv off.

She sent a net his way and was rewarded by a scream of pain. Fuck that guy.

“We got to run. Now!”

Arthur was out hunting so there would be no help there. Marruk stumbled but managed to grab Solfis and strap him to her back. They moved, leaving most of their belongings behind. Viv barely took the time to grab her pack, minus the tent. Around them, torches were lit in the distance. Viv’s sight was still blurry as the general-purpose antidote fought what must be a powerful sedative. There seemed to be a lot of them. She might have gone so far as saying a metric fuckton of them. Had to be the drug. Same with the voices. So many of them. And horns.

“That doesn’t feel like bounty hunters.”

“Whu?”

“You keep going Marruk, you’re doing amazing.”

“Oh.”

The mighty Kark was drooling, running up the slope with somewhat hesitant steps. There were torches in front of them now. Viv had a quick look around. There were torches everywhere. An illusion, maybe.

“We need options,” she said in Harrakan.

//There is a gap there with fewer torches.

//By that cliff.

Yes. The terrain was difficult here and there was a small elevation higher up. That could help. Viv ran more. She heard cries of alarm. She spotted men in uniform far to her right, shining brightly under the radiance of magical light. They wore armor. They were not moving, just standing there watching the darkness with apprehension. Then they were gone, hidden behind a fold of the land. She kept going.

Pretty sure they had been wearing loyalist uniforms. They were the right shade of blue. Inside her addled brain, panic bubbled to the surface and she ran faster. A scout spotted her on the left next. He whistled but didn’t approach.

A moment later, something stabbed her in the arm. Danger sense warned her, but it felt muted somehow and she was too slow to react.

“Arg, MERDE.”

Wait no, not stabbed. But hurt. Pain lanced her with every step she took. Something clattered on the ground, an arrow with a round head.

“Easy peasy…”

A hastily put up shield blocked a second arrow. She could not stop running.

“... sneaky cloaky.”

The next projectile hit her leg but disappeared with a hiss. She grabbed her wounded arm to prevent it from dangling around. Fucking broken, no doubt.

//Your Grace, they are trying to capture you.

“I noticed!”

//I mean that they will not use lethal force.

//Do not hesitate to exploit it.

Viv’s mind tried to process what the golem had said, understand it so she could use it, but the persistent poison clouded her mind. It was so hard to focus despite her high focus. She suspected that only this allowed her to function while Marruk coped on endurance alone. She was a one-eyed idiot guiding a blind person. And Solfis had almost no battery.

They were so fucked.

No, she had to persevere. Find an out. The cliff came closer. For some strange reason and although they were surrounded, no one came to her. The few soldiers who spotted her just whistled and signaled, but they never approached. Speaking of which…

[Enorian Infantryman]

The inspection skill returned a vague impression of southern force, but she could not pay it much attention. More blunt arrows hit her armor, disintegrating on contact. They hit her legs, arms, chest, testing for weakness. An arrow at the back of the knee made her stumble. Another hit her wounded arm, eliciting a hiss of pain. All the while, Viv was fighting down terror. They reached the base of the cliff and angled right into a small ravive. The cries behind her had gone closer. She could swear she could hear horses.

//Your Grace.

//There is a spellcaster ahead we should go to.

“Fuck.”

//Your Grace, I apologize for not seeing through the deception.

//I considered Ardek’s oath breaking unlikely.

//Right now, we should consider… alternative options.

Viv refused to accept that. No capture. No letting others decide for her. She had killed a fucking prince. They wouldn’t be nice about it. She had always told herself back in Afghanistan, that if she ever was at risk of being captured, she would blow her head off. This didn’t feel much better.

The ravine was not empty, there were torches far, far ahead. In front of her. Near the exit. And in front of that, there was a familiar figure.

“Aspect of fire. Firewall."

A crimson circle lit under Eteia’s feet. Flaming columns ignited at the mage’s back, blocking the path. The heat was so intense that Viv had to turn her head, letting the heat disperse on her mana coating. Marruk slipped to a halt.

Eteia was clad in her own armor, with a shimmering of light that indicated that a shield was already in place. It kind of stung to be trapped in return after trapping the woman so thoroughly.

But Eteia was not gloating. In fact, she looked more distressed than anything. Her mouth was half open and her eyes searched the shadows of the night behind Viv’s back. The witch’s mind went into overdrive, perception of time slowing.

She was done for. It was obvious now. She never had a chance. Whoever wanted to trap her had been very, very thorough. Illogically so. She suspected that it was… what was his name again? Constable Tarano, current head of the loyalist faction. And she knew why Solfis had guided her here instead of to another doomed passage.

Eteia was still under oath not to hurt Viv personally, an apparent oversight on the part of her attackers. It meant that there was a brief window where Viv could ask questions and plant the seeds of a future escape.

“Why do they want me alive?” she asked in a rush.

The mage was eager to talk. Perhaps she was worried about Neriad smiting her on the spot, but Viv thought there might be more to it.

“Not to execute you. I think Tarano wants your research. I don’t know anything more.”

Sympathy. Fear. Conspiratorial tone. Guilt. Viv filed all of this and came to a conclusion. She had to give herself a breathing space, and she had to do it fast. Intimidation would not serve a purpose here, so she shelved it. Eteia would not be bluffed and she most definitely had high focus. Better to try and sway her.

“Let them go and I will surrender peacefully,” Viv proposed.

It was more a test of character than a real negotiation. Viv didn’t have a leg to stand on, and Eteia knew it as well. The mage could just step to the side and let Viv get stopped by the next group. Thankfully, it worked. The mage nodded to the side.

“They can try to climb.”

//Your Grace, it could work.

“Then do it.”

Solfis whispered to Marruk. The Kark went to the base of the shear wall and got lifted by a pair of bony arms until they disappeared. Viv heard a few arrows clatter against the stone but she could no longer see anything.

That was it then.

“So… how do we do this?” she asked, keeping her voice under control.

“I have silverite manacles. Put them on.”

Eteia removed a pair of shackles from a bag at her back and looked like she would hand them to Viv, but a glance to the side dissuaded her. She tossed the things towards Viv who inspected them summarily. They were simple circles covered in runes, with a basic steel chain that could be attached to immobilize her. She deactivated her cloak then put them on with a grimace. It was a necessity in those circumstances, but she hated it anyway.

At first, she didn’t feel any different. Mana was still there and she could still move it through her conduits. Her core felt normal as well.

“It will inflict pain if you try to draw glyphs or if you let mana spill out of the limits of your body. Don’t try it, because it really hurts,” Eteia whispered.

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yes. I wore those when I was debriefed.”

Eteia winced. Viv got the impression that the defeated mage’s return had been unpleasant. She was probably on thin ice.

“It’s going to be unpleasant and humiliating but you must stay in control of yourself, got it?” Eteia finally said urgently. Then the mage’s face turned as cold and rigid as a statue and Viv knew they were no longer alone.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself of the basic rules. If captured, she had to try to escape as soon as possible. That was fucked because they wanted her personally. Trust no one, that was also hard because she wanted to try to work through Eteia. The rest was doable. Keep faith in herself and the others, stay calm, shut the fuck up unless she really couldn’t. Escape as soon as possible. Resist whenever possible.

Viv turned to face the newcomers. Inspect was still working at least.

A group was walking towards her under the powerful glow of magic lights, one that was absolutely massive. There were men in elaborate plat armors that bore the title of [Knight Captain] or [Baron], grim and powerful. [Court mages] and [Warmages] in fancy robes that resembled her own like a Chanel cardigan resembled a hoodie glared at her and at Eteia with mighty frowns. They were all men. In truth, the only women were a pair of [Bishops] of Enttiku and Maranor, respectively. They didn’t look friendlier than the rest. The man at their head strode with confidence and what Viv felt was an unreasonable amount of vindication. She took solace in the fact that the gold of his armor failed to dispel the dark bags under his eyes. At least she had made things hard for them.

Which was arguably going to come back to bite her in the ass now.

Also that was a fucking parade just to get her.

The VIP room stopped only a few steps away, with the mages loading so much mana Viv felt dizzy. Maybe anticipating some last minute lash out or something, instead of paying attention to her wrists. The amount of enchanted gears on those fuckers could buy the entirety of New Harrak seven times over with enough to spare for a blowjob at the Spotted Feather. Viv was a little intimidated by so much bling. Her confusion also only increased as the lead dude said nothing. He was just staring at her with a strange mix of rage and relief.

[Constable, extremely dangerous, one who pursues the double path of regency and arcane swordsmanship. Competent caster, deadly duelist, Men bane. Leader. Administrator…]

The list went on. It was not quite as impressive as Solfis but to her, it was enough. The man was on the sixth step. The sixth. She was still small fry despite her efforts. Only Irao could match this guy. He was a tall lad with gray hair cut short and a handsome face with a strong chin upon which was a scar. He had some stubble that gave him a roguish edge, and deep-set dark eyes. Viv got George Clooney vibes except she had never seen the actor play a cold-blooded killer and that was what she got as well. He had blood on his hands, and given the huge double-handed sword on his back, she didn’t wonder how he delivered it.

As for the rest of them, they were doing their very best to murder her with their eyes.

“You are a difficult woman to find, Viviane of Harrak.”

She did not reply. It was a show now, one meant for the soldiers gluting around them like flies on spilled blood. Had to remind herself to let the twat have his moment and to exert patience. Her time would come.

“I am Constable Tarano, ruling in lieu of His Royal Highness Kule, First Prince of Enoria and our rightful ruler. You are my prisoner. As you have surmised.”

He took a few steps forward and Viv felt the weight of his aura upon her. Red, life, grey. He was powerful. Not a pure caster but probably able to stop magic and close the gap. It didn’t matter anyway. With three steps of difference, he could probably sneeze and kill her. He was also one of the few men who really, really towered above her head which pissed her off. She hated feeling small. Calm, ok, calm. Stay in control.

Because Tarano was not.

The Constable closed his fists and the armor creaked under the strength in his fingers. Viv waited.

Suddenly, she was up in the air. Pain blossomed in her belly. It was sharp and cold and blinding. She landed painfully on her knees and hands, unable to move so much as a finger. The agony in her arm redoubled. She retched acidic water. Fucker had punched her, she could tell from his still raised fist. Felt like she’s been hit by a dump truck.

Grabbed by the collar and lifted. Couldn’t breathe properly. Oh that man was livid alright, absolutely mad with her.

“I. Raised. Lancer. Like my son.”

Well fucking good job you did then, you wanker, Viv thought in her heart. Something must have shown on her face because Tarano’s lips quivered with rage and his eyes were bloodshot to all hell. He was breathing fast, bearing his teeth like a wolf.

It took a couple of seconds for a man who ought to have willpower in the sixth tier to chill out.

“Fortunately for you, I need you alive. So, you will stay alive.”

Viv’s world went up and down. She was flying through the air. This time, she expected something like that and managed to roll into a ball before smashing against the cliff wall.

Pain.

Pain.

Viv forced air into her lungs. Entire right side was going to be black and blue tomorrow. At least she had not tried to cast. Left arm was broken for sure. Yep, definitely broken. She bit back a moan of pain and focused on happy thoughts. She was not alone. She was not alone, ever. Just had to catch her breath for a while.

Tarano gave a few orders and the silly committee dispersed, leaving her still surrounded by elite soldiers. Before he could do more, he got distracted from her presence when a pair of soldiers and a priest in a golden robe brought Ardek forward. She had nailed him in the flank, quite deeply it seemed. He was still surprisingly calm.

“Please save me,” the little asshole stated.

“He doesn’t respond to mundane or divine healing, Excellency,” the priest said. “The grounding potion deadens the pain and his emotions for now, but the prognostic is grim.”

So that’s how the fucker had remained calm and fooled both her and Solfis. A grounding potion? She could use a drop or two right the fuck now.

“A curse, I assume?” Tarano asked.

“Most likely, yes.”

“I thought you had removed the curse. You lied to me?” Ardek asked.

“A priest died bearing your sin, boy. We did not cheat you, but Enttiku is an old crone and she always gets her due. Always. And she can be petty when she wants, as you have just learned. We will give you time to accept your fate and rest assured that your share of the bounty will be sent to your village.”

Ardek gasped and moved a bit. Thick red blood dripped from his weeping wound. It felt strange seeing such a thin body sliced open. Reminded her a bit of a village near Kandahar, back on earth.

Tarano waved his hands, dismissing the dying hunter from the vicinity without care. He walked leisurely and kneeled next to Viv who decided she had no particular reason to test how many of her bones were broken by moving, pain tolerance skill or not.

“Just as vindictive as I was told. How old was he? Thirteen? Fourteen?”

Old enough to know, Viv thought. She harbored no illusion that oaths to the gods got broken on occasion, but that one was supposed to kill Ardek before he could spill. How the little twat managed, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that someone had died for the information to be given. In any case, it must have taken a clear plan on the part of the hunter, meaning he intended to backstab Viv from the start. That kind of hurt.

Wait a minute, Ardek was old enough to be a soldier here, meaning that Tarano had ordered many people of his age to their death. Maybe he had killed some himself. He was trying to get a rise out of her, perhaps?

“I like silence in a woman. I think we can work together after all. We will talk later. Naden, Lotae, I leave her to you. And Kordok.”

And so the constable left her with the two priestesses and one of the tallest dudes she had ever seen since coming here. That was fine. She inspected her captors.

[Priestess of Enttiku]

This one wore the black robes of the goddess of death, or god maybe? The Paramese seemed uncertain of the divinity’s gender. There were a few subdued colors on her dusty garment, which Viv assumed meant she was a bigwig or at least a middlewig. That one was mature and beautiful with a darker skin and curly hair that hinted at a partially northern ancestry. She didn’t look too pleased to be here. By comparison, the other was pale and thin, sharp, with cold eyes and a mighty scowl. Clearly not sympathetic to her plight.

[Priestess of Maranor]

Maranor again. Viv felt like she had never met the bitch and yet they were already enemies for life or something. Her and her fucking fan club.

The last one was problematic. Very problematic. He was inspecting Viv with a level of attention that bordered on the maniacal, which was bad. What was worse was that he was the tallest man Viv had ever seen with the dry muscles of the martial artist under form-fitting mail. A truncheon hung from one waist and a sword from the other. He was bald and rather ugly, but clean. As Viv watched, he stepped towards her.

[Royal Jailor: a path dedicated to containing and taking care of captives. Attentive. Decent melee combatant…]

They were leaving nothing to chance, huh? Just as she thought that, the man took a step forward and pointed at her.

“You are my prisoner, now, and until my superior sees it fit to change that.”

Mana shifted and took hold around the man. Something stuck to Viv’s soul, not exactly unpleasant but there. Immediately, the jailor bent and delicately removed the knife from Viv’s belt. He also took her backpack.

“Compliance leads to peace; resistance leads to pain. Please follow me.”

There was a time to resist and this wasn’t now. She moved down the valley surrounded by at least fifty soldiers and a couple of mages. Viv was at the center of a very large formation, she realized from the surrounding torches. There was actual mounted cavalry at the edge as well. The voice of Constable Tanaro soon broke the oppressive silence.

“What do you mean, you let them go?”

He was walking in front of her with the rest of the rich old men. Eteia stood on one side, the gesture designed to isolate her.

“My priority was to capture the witch, which I did.”

“And you could not stop a drugged Kark warrior?”

“As I said, my priority was to secure a dangerous caster alive. The good question would be how she managed to slip past trained scouts and elite archers.”

“They are not being judged now, you are.”

“That’s a problem now, isn’t it?”

The grizzled luggages hissed and spat insults and reminders but Eteia was unfazed. Viv guessed it wasn’t the first time it had happened. That was good information to have.

“You will watch your tongue, woman. Your status here remains… uncertain.”

“So it is. Was there anything else you wanted to address concerning my capture?” she replied in a frigid tone.

“You are no longer needed for tonight. Dismissed,” Tarano finished, and the red mage strode out in a huff while his sycophants mumbled about disrespect.

Viv noticed that the exchange had been quite public and wondered what the soldiers were thinking. She took a quick look around and realized that everyone was looking at her. The reactions ranged from hatred to terror to morbid curiosity. It was quite flattering in a way. Happily for her, none of those who met her eyes made any rude or suggestive gestures. They really took her for the antichrist or something.

It took half an hour to end in a camp, and Viv realized a few things as they moved to more open grounds. First, her escort was made of actual thousands of soldiers, their presence fire snakes moving in the distance. Second, it was only a portion of what was left in the camp, hidden from sight near the city she had spotted as they made camp.

It appeared that, in order to capture her, Tarano had brought the whole loyalist army.

Or what was left of it anyway.

That made no sense at all. It was just too stupid to contemplate, not to mention that someone gathering an expedition against her would remember that Eteia was under oath not to harm her. There had to be another reason. She tried to find it as she moved forward past wooden fortifications and among the lined up tents, but could not think of one. Besides, the poison was still not fully out of her system and she hurt everywhere. It wasn’t fun.

She was stopped near a cage wagon, a genuine steel bar animal containment box on wheels drawn by a duo of oxens. The trio in charge of her well-being had her walk in a tent, though only the two priestesses followed. They didn’t seem worried, which Viv took as one more reason not to attempt to take them hostage while surrounded by a division’s worth of hostile soldiers.

“Are you hurt anywhere? I saw him toss you, you must be in some pain,” the priestess of Enttiku said with what appeared to be sympathy. The other frowned. Viv wanted to show her arm but she considered that a priestess with healing abilities would not need her to speak to detect what was wrong.

“We are not to heal the prisoner unless her life is in danger,” the other reminded with a detached tone.

The priestess of Enttiku sighed heavily, then sighed harder when Viv did not reply. She still lightly put a finger on Viv’s ungloved hand. A moment later, Viv felt something shift in her arm and the pain lessened. The rest of her still hurt though.

Viv calculated her chance of convincing the priestess of Enttiku to help and decided they were zero. Enemy interrogators would get her through fear, naivete, overconfidence, or, in the case of nurses, sympathy. Anything she said would be used to make her comply for sure. The best policy was to shut the fuck up unless compelled to do otherwise, like with a knife at her throat.

“The prisoner will disrobe,” the other woman said.

“Let me close the flap first, Lotae,” the first said.

That made the good cop Neren and the glacial tart Lotae.

She did so and Viv was handed a shift. It sucked to lose her skinsuit and Varska’s robe but there wasn’t much she could do at this stage. She was left with rather conservative prisoner pants and top that covered much and felt warm. As expected, she was already bruising though. Once they were done, she was put in the cage and given some water by a taciturn Kordok, the jailor. The army moved out at dawn.

They walked for the entire day, barely stopping at noon. The loyalist army progressed as a column in full armor, which was something she supposed was possible with magical enhancements. There was a large baggage train as well that trailed behind her with a cloud of dust. As for her, she was right next to the rich, armored wagons like the one Lancer had used. Some of them were even more bling bling than his had been. She had seen less gold paint on some baroque salons. It hurt the eyes.

With nothing much to do, Viv focused on circulating her mana and ignoring the pain in her side. She wondered what the hell this was all about and progressively came to a conclusion. Some of the reasons for the presence of the army, she couldn’t know. At least for now. What she figured out was what had meant by ‘they wanted her research’, an hypothesis she grew more confident in when she saw the main carriage and its emblem.

She also figured out that the loyalist army would have no supply problems because they pillaged and burnt down any village they came across.

Kordok was being surprisingly decent. He made sure she had some hot food, one cover, and he had her go out and walk around and visit the privies on the few occasions when the army stopped. There was one time when Viv thought she heard a familiar ‘squee’ from above and hope filled her chest. It made Kordok instantly approach the cage and inspect her thoroughly. It seemed like he was keyed to her emotions and that was going to be a pain in her ass.

Viv got confirmation that night when the quiet jailor dragged her to the largest armored wagon. She was shoved in and found herself in a richly decorated, moving bedroom complete with couches, a desk, a large bed and even a bathroom. Tarano was here, sitting comfortable on a blue velvet chair. Two barons and an old and very powerful war mage accompanied him. They all looked too smug for geezers slumming it in a pimped out RV.

“I am sure you are wondering why you still draw breath so let me enlighten you,” the constable said without preamble. “Despite your many crimes against the crown and the people of Enoria, most of them punishable by death, we have… elected to grant you a chance to redeem yourself. In the bed behind me lies the only hope for our great country to be made whole. You are going to heal him.”

As expected, Tanaro wanted her to heal the first prince, the same who had been mangled during the first battle of the war. Incidentally, the last living sibling out of three thanks in no small part to Viv herself. Tarano was probably grasping at straws. Unless he could put Kule back together, he had a kingdom with no kings. His claim of legitimacy would melt in the succession war.

Lotae walked to the bed with a grim air and lifted the veil to reveal a man who, well, looked like he shouldn’t be alive.

He was missing his entire left arm, left leg, and right foot if the lack of bump under the thin cover was any indication. More importantly, there was an actual hole in his flank, now covered by smooth skin but Viv guessed meant he was missing some essential stuff. And indeed, an IV dripped golden fluid into his right arm. He was also comatose and painfully thin.

[Crown Prince]

The inspection returned no information on the man’s current health, which was probably due to the fact that her path didn’t focus on healing at all.

She stared back at the constable, who was apparently expecting some sort of reaction. When she didn’t speak, he ground his teeth with restrained rage. Damn did that man hate her guts.

“If you do not cooperate, we will make you. If you do, you will be allowed to make up for your mistakes and reintegrate society. We will let you settle and have a family with an Enorian spell blade of our choosing and with some restrictions. It is a very generous offer considering the circumstances.”

A distant part of Viv knew she should remain quiet but the rest of her was tired, hurt, and boiling with outrage.

“Your reward is to be raped and used as a brood mare? Are you serious?”

A vein pulsed on the constable’s forehead. He forced himself to take a deep breath while Viv shook her head, aghast. She couldn’t believe her ears.

“Despite your many offenses, we know that you have expanded into the deadlands and fought the undead. My advisors believe… that you see the importance of order and civilisation even if your view is skewed by an… extremely inflated opinion of yourself.”

Viv thought that one of them had created a functional kingdom and the other had brought his own to ruin so results kind of spoke for themselves. Her naked contempt must have gotten obvious enough that Tarano went through another cycle of deep breaths.

“And that you are also selfish and arrogant. Someone of your intellect should realize that a war caster is a war caster, but a woman who sacrifices her path to raise a family gives the kingdom half a dozen war casters. It should be obvious to you which one benefits society the most.”

“At the risk of challenging your views on parenting, there isn’t that much overlap between being a good mom and melting someone’s face off. Wow, you fed bullshit to the masses for so long that you ended up believing in them as well.”

“I was foolish to expect a revolutionary to understand the notion of sacrifice.”

“It’s only okay so long as someone else does it, right?”

“Enough of this. You will save the prince, whether you want it or not.”

“Not with that ‘generous’ offer that you gave and can shove up your ass. I’d rather be caged, thanks.”

Thus ended the negotiations, Tarano not pushing for now. Viv was sure he would get back to her very soon but curiously, he seemed distracted. As Viv was brought back to her cage, she caught sight of the soldiers around their camp fires. The mood was subdued. Tense. She did not expect them to be happy so far into enemy territory, not to mention the aftermath of the meat grinder this war was turning out to be, but there was more at play. She was sure of it. Time was not on the side of the constable. But why? She had to play this carefully.