Rise (War Witch Book 1) (44 page)

Within a few minutes of their arrival, the wide doors burst open, admitting a staff carrying wine, ale, water, and an assortment of treats that threatened to make the huge table bow under their weight. The band completely failed to suppress their amazement as Rills gave a nervous laugh, explaining that Untar had greeted all the Blessed who'd answered his call similarly.

Ramora accepted a goblet of ale, refusing to get up, as Chara drooled over the sheer number of delicacies and sweets laid out before her. Leto made to move for the table, struggling to get around the young Lieutenant.

"Oh, yes," Chara giggled, stacking food on a plate. "They've got turkey, roasted ham, chicken, beef steak, and I don't know what this is, but I'm going to eat it. Hey! Bacon!"

"Didn't we just have breakfast?" Esteban asked, wide-eyed at her appetite.

Chara glowered at him. "I've been eating rabbit and pheasant, breakfast, lunch and dinner, for the last five months. They have pig! I'm eating it."

"Of course, beloved," he sighed.

Ramora snickered as she sank back in her chair. Leto managed to snag a sweet, Rills still talking up a storm and asking questions he didn't give the Blessed of Grannax a chance to even answer before taking off on another tangent. Esteban shook his head, sniffing at the food curiously.

"Say what you want about Kings," Chara declared around a mouthful of pork sausage. "They know how to eat!"

"Please, slow down, before you choke," Esteban urged.

"You slow down," she mouthed, waving a pork chop at him. "I'm eating here!"

"We can all see that," he groaned as Leto and Ramora tried to hide their laughter.

"Hey, Rills," the young woman said, grabbing another handful of bacon. "Shut up and put food in your mouth for a minute, will you?"

"Oh, I'm not hungry," he said before turning back to Leto. "Would you care for a plate, Sir? I'd be happy to prepare it."

"Not at all," he replied quickly, holding up the strawberry-filled treat he held. "I'm good, thanks."

"More for me," Chara grinned around a mouthful of ham.

"Let us hope you leave some for the rest of the kingdom." The heavy baritone all but boomed over them, filled with mirth, drawing them to the towering man who swept into the room.

Easily as tall and broad-shouldered as Leto, he had a shock of black hair that refused to behave, curling wildly around the narrow silver circlet he wore. Eyes like emeralds danced in delight as he smiled past a thick, well-trimmed beard that gave him a regal appearance. Dressed in fine, but common, leathers, boots and a simple linen shirt, his royal majesty, the King of Lansing, Untar Fel could not have looked less the part.

By his side, a slender woman about Chara's height hovered, looking over a thick book past her glasses, decked out in a well-made brown leather vest over a cotton shirt that topped a long skirt the same color of the vest. Her brunette hair hung to her waist in a braid as thick as her forearm, and when she looked up, gray eyes scanned the gathered band critically, making them all feel somehow smaller.

"Your Highness," Leto said, kneeling.

"Please, don't," Untar chuckled as he strode over, the woman sliding at his side like a snake. "We're both Blessed of Grannax here, Leto. Stand, as a friend."

"As you wish," he nodded, rising and shaking the hand the King offered.

"I see you brought friends," Untar said, glancing at the two women and Werecat. Then he noticed Rills, who hovered at Leto's side, smiling in a goofy way.

Leto bowed lightly. "If I may, Sire, I'd like to present Ramora, daughter of, Priestess to, and Blessed of Ramor."

The warrior waved but made no move to get up.

"The pleasure is mine," Untar said after a moment.

"This, then, would be Esteban, a friend and fellow warrior against the Demon Seed," Leto told him quickly, turning him away from the warrior.

The great Cat bowed deeply. "I'm honored to be in the presence of such a great man."

"You are welcome here, my friend," Untar replied, matching his bow.

Seeming relieved at least one of them possessed manners, Leto directed the king's attention to Chara. "Last, Lady Chara, from Rheumer, in Fival."

Glancing over, she smiled past the bacon that dangled from her mouth, gave a sloppy half-curtsey, then asked, "Hey, have you ever considered making a bacon wine?"

Leto buried his face in his hand as Ramora spit ale all over herself. Esteban sighed heavily. Untar arched an eyebrow as the young woman looked around at her companions in confusion.

"I can't say I have," he admitted.

"Get on that," she told him.

"I'll look into it," the King struggled to say.

Giving him a thumbs up, she stuffed some more sausage in her mouth, refilled her wine and circled the table like a predator at a watering hole. Ramora dried herself with a cushion from the couch. Esteban wondered if he could survive the jump from the window as Leto turned red in embarrassment. Rills just kept smiling.

"Normally, they are better mannered," Leto stammered.

"Really?" Untar asked in surprise.

Thinking of his first meeting with them, Leto sagged, admitting, "No. Not really. This is about as good as it gets."

To his surprise, the King of Lansing grinned. "Good. I hate when people feel they can't be themselves around me."

"You're gonna love us, then," Chara chuckled as she gnawed at another pork chop.

"Yes," Untar said slowly. "Please, allow me to introduce my chief of staff, Leena Adaway."

"You're going to be late for a meeting with the Merchants Union," she told him, ignoring the rest.

Untar frowned. "They'll wait. Blessed business."

She frowned slightly and made a note in her book.

"Anyway," the King grinned, clapping his hands together. "Thank you for coming, General Alimon. I'm certain with your shrewd tactical capabilities, we'll be able to make short work of this scoundrel."

"Thank you, Sire," Leto bowed. "However, I think you should be made aware that Ramora here has something of a unique history with this Dark Blessed."

Turning back to her, Untar considered her for a moment. "Does she now? Pray tell, dear lady, have you laid eyes upon him?"

Ramora nodded.

Untar waited for a moment. "Can you tell us about him?"

"She can't talk," Chara said from the other side of the table. "I'm her interpreter."

"Interpreter?" Untar asked, surprised.

Ramora made a few quick signs at Chara, who nodded. "She says she’s seen him, yes, and can tell you just what he looks like. She'll never forget his face."

"Is that so," Untar said slowly, rubbing his chin. "This is most fortunate then. To date, we've never been able to get a clear idea of his appearance. With this, we could single him out and take him down quickly."

"There's a great deal more you should know, Sire," Leto replied.

Untar nodded as Leena coughed loudly at his side. "Of course, yes, and more you should know as well. Lieutenant Rills, if you would be so kind as to take General Alimon and Lady Ramora to meet with the other Blessed who have answered my call."

"Sure," Rills nodded, then caught himself. "I mean, yes, Sire! Right away, Sire!"

"We'll go over everything this afternoon," Untar told them. "I'm afraid I can't put off this Merchants Union meeting again, or they may have me killed in my sleep."

Leto bowed deeply. "Of course, Sire."

"Hey, by the by," Chara cut in. "Do you play Masters?"

Ramora threw her goblet at her. Ducking it, the young woman watched it clatter across the floor.

"What?"

CHARA STOMPED DOWN
the street, scowling as morning wore into noon. By her side, Esteban watched her with caution. Already, her temper had exploded twice since they'd left the castle, escorted out by a smiling young woman who had insisted Ramora would have no need of them as she and Leto met with the other Blessed who had responded to Untar's request.

"Stupid, elitist assholes," she muttered.

"It wasn't like that, beloved," Esteban pointed out.

She stopped, glaring up at him. "How was it, then?"

He sighed heavily. "Ramora and Leto were going to meet with their fellows. As much as you may not like it, they're Blessed, and we aren't. There's a very good chance we would've been bored by their conversation."

"Well, we'll never know now, will we?" she snorted, storming down the narrow street.

Looking to the Heavens, he followed. "You wanted to have some time to look for a sorcery shop anyway, didn't you?"

"That's beside the point," she snapped. "They rushed us out the door like we were nobodies!"

"We are nobodies, dear," he pointed out.

"Speak for yourself," she shot back. "I've helped kill two Orcs, put two down on my own, and beat the crap out of a Dark Blessed. I think I count as somebody."

He nodded patiently. "Yes, you are most heroic."

"Damn right I am," she muttered. "But, oh, I don't have the special club mark, so out the door I go. Stupid, elitist assholes."

Sagging, Esteban gave up. "As you say, beloved."

"How's she supposed to put any ideas out there without me there, anyway?" Chara demanded.

"Leto has gained a decent understanding of her sign language," Esteban reminded her. "And I'm fairly certain that if it's particularly important, she can write it down."

"Oh, sure, throw
that
up in my face," she growled.

"I'm not throwing anything anywhere," he argued. "I am, however, trying to be realistic about matters."

Chara pouted. "Sure, of course you are. Just happens reality doesn't agree with my viewpoint."

"That cannot be helped, dear," he said.

"Stupid, elitist reality," she muttered.

Esteban shook his head. "What bothers you more? That Ramora might not need you, or that you aren't being included in the planning of this mission?"

Chara slowed, a look of misery crossing her face. "Both."

Resting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, he smiled at her. "You know if you see a flaw in their plan, Ramora will listen to you. Relax. All we're missing is a boring meeting where a group of Blessed talk to each other about how great they are."

"Yeah, I know," she groused. "Still, it would've been nice if I'd gotten to talk about how great I am, too."

Esteban rolled his eyes a little. "I'm sure you'll get plenty of chances for that."

"I'm pretty great," she muttered.

"I think so," he admitted.

Leaning into him, she let him drape his arm around her shoulders, as they continued walking down the street. Lost in her own thoughts, she sulked while he was just glad she'd stopped barking about it all.

"Hey, Esteban?" she asked after a while.

"Yes, dear?"

"Where are we?"

Looking around as they paused at an intersection, the big Cat realized he didn't know either. They'd wandered aimlessly after being escorted from the castle, Chara too angry to pay any heed to where they were going, he too busy dealing with her outrage.

Looking back, a long and winding street of homes that told him nothing. In front of them, a busy avenue of people from all the Six Races moving to and fro, with shops lining each side.

Not a single street sign anywhere.

"I really don't know," he told her after a minute.

"Great," she sighed. "This day is starting to suck."

"We can ask directions," he told her.

"I think I ate too much, too," she grumbled.

Esteban gave her a loving smile. "You think?"

"Shut up," she told him, giving him a playful punch.

Glancing down the busy street, Esteban waved a hand, saying, "If it's a sorcery shop you want, then I believe we may be in the right place. Looks to be many here. We might find what you're looking for."

With a slight shrug, she nodded. "May as well look. Doesn't cost anything to window-shop."

"Why do you want to shop for windows?" he asked with a straight face.

"You're not half as funny as you think you are," she told him as she gathered his hand and led him on.

"Am so," he chuckled.

The two wandered down the street at a leisurely pace, enjoying an opportunity to take their time for a change. For so many months, they'd felt rushed, but now, finally in Lansing, and with the King himself offering to help deal with Draco, it felt good to slow down and enjoy the sights.

They passed Elves from both the Top and Deep, more Ogres than Chara had ever expected to see in her life, cordial Halflings, Trolls, humans and Weres alike as they paused now and then to admire what the shop windows had on display. All her life, she'd wanted to see a real city, and now that she was in one, she felt freer than she'd ever believed possible.

Such places as this exist
, she thought to herself. Where a person could just get lost in a crowd, and be a part of it all, without everyone around them knowing what they'd had for dinner, the last time they farted, and what it'd smelled like. It was joyous.

Some ways down the street, she stopped to admire the fancy dresses in one window, long petticoats fluffing out the full skirt on one, with a corset that nipped the waist and shoved the breasts high. Esteban made a soft purr at her side as he envisioned her in it, but she laughed. She'd had enough of skirts to last her the rest of her life. While it was beautifully made, she knew it was something she'd never get caught dead in.

Crossing the street, they nodded to a tall, dark-skinned Elf as he leaned in the doorway of his shop smoking a thin cigar, while they admired the clothing on display. Sleek leather pants of brown and green with halter tops and low-cut blouses that Chara admitted were more to her liking. Esteban chuckled, telling her he could see her in those before the elegant dresses across the way.

The Elf had laughed heartily, introduced himself as Nerec, and let them know he often traded with barbarian clans, who the clothes had been made by. Their sense of fashion was popular with the common folk of Lansing, it seemed, and he offered to let Chara try on any outfit she liked, free of charge.