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B2 Chapter 52: Stay A While
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 02:49:41 +0000 UTCB2 Chapter 52: Stay A While
Marcus quietly rolled out of bed, careful not to wake its other occupant. That was easier said than done considering that freeing himself required him to move her sprawled leg and arm.
He crept around the edge of the bed as softly as he could manage, finding his clothes and slipping them on. As he got dressed, he took in the slender figure that lay partially obscured by the sheets. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the morning light that seeped through the window, her hair glittering like finely spun copper strewn across the pillows.
Marcus smiled at the sight. He laced up his boots, standing with a quiet squeak of leather. He hoped to be gone before she awakened, but the soft rustling of sheets informed him that he may not be so lucky.
The pretty young serving girl gazed sleepily up at him through one half-lidded eye. She blinked, long and slow, before murmuring something sleepy and almost unintelligible. A line of the song that had gotten her upstairs the night before.
"...Just brush my cheek before you go…"
Marcus stepped forward, gently brushing his fingers from her temple to her chin. The girl smiled as her eyes drifted back closed. When her breathing had once more returned to its slow and regular cadence, he turned toward the door and left.
As it clicked shut behind him, he sighed.
"Are you ready to leave?"
The voice nearly made Marcus jump out of his skin. His head snapped up to find Iladrien leaning casually against the wall next to his door. The cloaked elf raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"By the gods, friend!" Marcus blew out a relieved breath and lowered his voice to a hiss. “How long have you been waiting there?"
"Not long. I came out once I heard you begin to stir." The elf nodded to the door. "An acquaintance of yours?”
"Ah… you could say that. A new acquaintance." Marcus answered, still wondering how the elf had heard him get up from across the hall. His stats had to be something else. "Not one I intend to stay acquainted with, though."
"Ah. A mistress, then." Iladrien nodded knowingly.
Marcus stared. "You blush at the idea of a brothel, but a mistress is fine?"
"I did not blush. Brothels are not a foreign concept to me either, though I admit to not having frequented them much. " Iladrien defended himself. “Anyway, let's be off. Gaius will want to hear what we've learned sooner rather than later.”
The pair headed downstairs. As they reached the common room, the tavernkeeper looked over from the early risers she was serving at the bar and beamed. "Ah! Good morning, master bard! Leaving for the day, are you?"
"Indeed, milady. Though it'll be for more than the day, I'm afraid." Marcus swept his arms out in an apologetic shrug. "I am grateful for your generous hospitality, but it seems that this is where we must part ways. My journey beckons me onward."
"Oh, come now." The woman pleaded. "Surely one more night won't hurt. Think of the audience you'll have! Yesterday was incredible, but now that word is getting out that you're here? I'm certain there will be even more patrons flocking to see you!"
It didn't take the most insightful individual to see the naked greed in the woman's eyes. It wasn't hard to understand why. Marcus wasn't the only one who had made a killing last night, and the tavernkeeper's mood this morning had lifted quite considerably because of it.
Still, Marcus couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He was no stranger to women begging him to stay just one more night. But he had honestly expected the plea to come from a different source this morning.
He shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid I can't. But rest assured that, when I return to this area, your fine establishment shall be at the forefront of my mind."
The tavernkeeper tried for a bit longer to persuade Marcus, but quickly realized that he wouldn't budge. She bid the pair a slightly disappointed farewell after they got a little bit of food in their bellies. As the pair made their way back to the front gate, Marcus found himself softly humming the song that the serving girl had so softly muttered.
“I am no bride of Mars, nor bound to Vesta's name,
Yet last night, I bore the sword of steel and flame.
Do not speak of fate or right and wrong—
Just hold me in your arms 'til I am strong.”
It was a newer composition of his, one that took inspiration from an old favorite while incorporating some newer ideas from the Legion's culture. It had played well with the soldiers he'd tested it on, but last night was his first time playing it for an audience of Novarans.
He'd sprinkled in a few other such songs throughout the night, testing the tales of strange armies and foreign heroes. New songs and stories were always a risk, as they were never as beloved as the old classics and favorites—at least, not unless one truly sold them with a flawless performance. And Marcus’s performances were always flawless.
It didn't take them long to reach the gate. The guard from yesterday was nowhere to be seen, hopefully off getting some much-needed rest after his shift. But Marcus no longer needed to bribe anyone now that it was open for the day.
They approached the little outpost the Legionnaires had put together the night before—which did not, in fact, end up with a wall. Most of the carts and individuals that had camped out the night before had packed up and headed into the city, but enough remained that the tent hardly even looked out of place. Aside from the precision with which it had been erected, that is.
As Marcus and Iladrien approached, they saw a group ofLegionnaires "casually" sitting around the cookfire. A few waved at them as one stood and headed inside the tent.
"Hail, Ma—er, Yonnas! Andra!" One of the men called out, fumbling with the aliases the two had chosen. "How was your night?"
"Wonderful. Although not as restful as I may have hoped." Marcus winked. He heard Iladrien snort at his side. "Ah, but before you get too jealous… I've brought a gift for you all."
From beneath his cloak he procured a bottle of relatively fine liquor that he'd purchased from the tavernkeeper before leaving that morning. It had cost him a pretty penny, but after the previous night's windfall, he could afford to splurge.
The men's previously stern and tired faces broke into wide grins at the sight. Marcus passed the bottle over with a flourish. "Be sure to share, now. Although I won't tell a soul if that bottle doesn't make it back to camp."
"You'll be lucky if it makes it through the morning." One of the men chuckled. He jerked a thumb at the tent. "I'd invite you to stay and drink with us, but you'll want to get in there to make your report. They're waiting for you."
At Marcus's questioning look, the man just shrugged and gestured again. The pair headed into the tent, moving aside the flap to see Gaius sitting inside. The officer wore a cloak to conceal his armor from curious eyes and looked up from his conversation with another Legionnaire as they entered.
"Ah! Marcus, Iladrien!" Gaius greeted them as he waved the other soldier away. "I was beginning to worry that you'd been held up by something unexpected."
"Apologies, sir." Iladrien ducked his head gracefully. "Though I was up with the first light, I found it prudent to wait for my companion to rouse before attempting to move about the city."
"It's not that late yet." Marcus protested. "It's not even midday…"
Gaius chuckled. "Well, I do hope the delay means that you have some good information for me. Let's hear it."
Marcus was happy to oblige. He went down the list of questions that the young officer had tasked him with answering. Almost every one of them had an answer of some sort, most of them seeming to satisfy Gaius's curiosity adequately enough. The younger man took notes as Marcus spoke and Iladrien occasionally chimed in with a clarification or additional comment of his own.
"All right." Gaius sat back with a sigh. "This is good work. Thank you both. Now, the main matter that we came here for—with the information you've gathered, how do you suggest we approach the duke about the ransom?"
Marcus nodded. He'd been proactive in casting a sound-dampening [Glamour] about the tent when they'd first begun their conversation, so he felt relatively comfortable speaking candidly about such things. "The Duke won't see anyone without an appointment. Not unless it is a king's messenger or someone of similar authority. Therefore, approaching him without warning would be unlikely to gain his attention successfully. Even if it did, we'd be far more likely to incur his wrath and get our messenger captured than accomplish our goals as intended."
"Agreed." Gaius nodded. "Then, what do you propose?"
"We send him a letter first. One detailing the situation and establishing a meeting place where he or a representative can meet us to confirm our claims. Then, we take the baroness and her daughter there, let him confirm that we both have them and that they are alive and well, and begin proposing negotiations from there."
Gaius mulled the proposal over for a moment before nodding again. "That seems reasonable. We should set the meeting for a day or two hence, just to give us time to fortify a location adequately. Are you certain that a letter will reach him any more quickly, though? Or even be taken seriously to begin with?"
Marcus indicated the direction of the city with his head. "Give me twenty minutes and a small purse of coins. I'll be able to ensure that the duke is presented with your mail first thing after lunch. Well…" He hesitated, thinking of the time. "Maybe dinner."
"All right. I can begin drafting something right away. I may need your advice to ensure that we're not committing any social blunders, however."
"Ah, don't worry about that." Marcus waved him off. "I actually have a letter already written, if you'd like to see?"
Gaius seemed to perk up at the prospect. "Please. If we're being honest, I don't enjoy paperwork nearly as much as everyone seems to believe."
The bard chuckled and retrieved a folded sheet of parchment from a hidden pocket. He'd worked on it as discreetly as he could between songs and stories at the bar. It was a masterfully composed ransom note, full of veiled threats and promises of safety. It invited the duke for a talk about terms, but in such a way that neither the Legion nor their captives would be left exposed and at his mercy.
Gaius nodded with respect. "This is good work. Thank you, Marcus. I'm more glad than ever that Tiberius sent you along."
Marcus smiled and doffed his cap. "I humbly accept your praise. Of course, I'm certain that you would be able to do just as well without my assistance—"
The man waved him off. "Oh, cut the pandering, Marcus. We both know you're built for diplomacy and flowery words. Me, I prefer a more… direct approach."
The bard's smile didn't waver. "Of course. One that may well work, once the Legion's reputation has spread more. Unfortunately, I fear that there has not yet been time for the proper… respect… to take hold."
If it ever would take hold. Marcus didn't doubt the Legion's power or ability to follow through with its threats. But until they had either reached a much higher level or spread word of their accomplishments far and wide, he was certain that others would. Hence the importance of his presence.
"There is another matter that should be addressed." Iladrien added. "That of our hidden observers."
"Oh?" Gaius raised a questioning eyebrow.
The elf nodded. "Indeed. Throughout the morning, there were silhouettes that appeared to be following us along the rooftops. Watching us. I know not their alignment, but it is no stretch to suggest that it is not a friendly one."
Marcus blinked at the elf in surprise. "When did you see this?"
"All morning, as I said. You didn't notice?" Iladrien tilted his head. "I thought they were rather obvious about it. They followed us to the gate, but didn't venture outside."
"That is… less good." Gaius sighed. "It means that someone has noticed our presence here. Maybe even the duke himself."
"Should we deal with them, sir?"
For the first time, one of the Legionnaires standing around the edge of the tent spoke. Gaius glanced over and shook his head. "That would be a quick way to have our presence marked with even greater interest. No. For now, we keep an eye on them and let them be. We haven't given them any reason to take action. Not yet."
With that all taken care of, Marcus and Gaius quickly went about finalizing the ransom letter. The bard and the elf slipped back into the city soon after, taking extra precautions to avoid being tailed and covering their tracks while Marcus plied the appropriate palms with coin. Before long, a sealed envelope with expedited priority was headed toward the duke's estate with the afternoon mail.
