Chapter 335: Faithless Gems
Faithless Gems
After the harrowing fight in the catacombs, combat training at the Lyceum felt downright dull. They no longer fought fire acolytes against mageknights – presumably, Moira had made her point – and instead trained with some of the warriors acting as defenders for the elemental mages. Being in line to become an officer rather than serving as a protector, this sometimes pitted Eleanor against Martel, which had begun to trouble him. Thanks to his rigorous training, Martel's spells could pack a hefty punch; he knew hitting Eleanor with even just a fire bolt would cause considerable hurt, if only short-term. But if he tried to restrain himself and use a weakened form of his spells, she would simply shrug off the attack and continue against him. She had no such scruples as he did, apparently.
To his right, another mageknight attacked Martel directly, but the warrior left himself open for a fire ray that made him regret showing up for class. The threat vanquished, Martel turned back towards his left where Eleanor duelled Julian, serving as his protector. She deftly outmanoeuvred him, and he landed on his back, out of the fight. Martel had one moment to land a spell before Eleanor regained her balance after her attack and went after him. He hesitated. It cost him.
She disarmed him of his staff and placed her blade against his throat. He hung his head low in defeat, and she gave him a smile before removing her weapon. "You will have to be faster than that next time," she teased.
"I say," Julian growled, back on his feet. "Not a single spell from you to help me in my fight."
"I didn't realise you'd need help straight away," Martel countered.
Walking up to them, Maximilian laughed hearing Martel's retort. "Nordmark has you marked! Though no shame in losing to Fontaine. She may be the best warrior here, myself excluded."
Eleanor shook her head with an exasperated smile, walking over to the water barrel.
"I think I'd put money on her in a fight against you," the fire acolyte admitted.
"Friend, you wound me." The mageknight looked shocked before his expression turned to a grin. "Though I cannot complain. Any woman less would not be worthy of Maximilian of Marche."
Somehow, Martel felt irked by the remark, though he could not say why. He had woken up in a strange mood; relieved that Julia was safe, yet ashamed that he knew about the maleficar in the catacombs and could do nothing. Maximilian's comment had nothing to do with that, but maybe it bothered him because it served as a reminder of the future; at some point, his only two friends in Morcaster would be together, while Martel would be alone, sent far away.
***
A message reached Martel as he passed by the entrance hall after classes. He could guess the sender, but not the contents.
Martel,
Need you at the
Four Flagon Tavern.
Regnar
Strange. The troupe was supposed to be on their way to Aquila already. Their continued presence in Morcaster, along with the note, gave reason for alarm. Worried what this all meant, Martel saw no cause to delay; he grabbed his cloak and immediately set out for the bridge district.
***
Arriving at the tavern, Martel found it empty. It seemed that Lady Pearl had gotten her wish to see it closed. He continued downstairs to the theatre, where he noticed most of the troupe, including Regnar. Everything that could be picked up and carried away had been done; only the benches and the stage itself remained. As for its erstwhile performers, some of them sat with gloomful expressions while others paced around anxiously.
"What's going on?" the acolyte asked.
"Ian's been taken," it burst from one of the actors. "Those bastards!"
"What? By whom?"
"Who else but the self-appointed ruler and tyrant of this district," Theo spat.
"He ran away, but we figured he'd be back," Regnar added. "When that didn't happen after a day, we ceased our preparations and began looking for him instead. I don't know if those thugs took him in the first place, and that's why he never returned, or maybe they saw us searching and guessed our purpose. In either case, they got him."
"But you already wanted to leave," Martel argued. "Why would they take Ian?"
"Leverage. She wasn't convinced of our intentions," the hedge mage explained and hauled out a note. "We've been told to get out if we want to get the boy back. If we're not gone tomorrow morning, we won't see him again."
"I already told them you would leave," the acolyte exclaimed. He had impressed this on Ruby; why would she not believe him? And while his opinion of her had not been stellar, he could scarcely believe she would threaten a child. "So, what will you do?"
"What we already planned to do. We'll pack our carts and get going tomorrow morning. Too late in the day to start our travels now. Hopefully, that'll satisfy this wench and give us our boy back," Theo said.
"Alright." Not much else to do. "What do you need from me?"
"Once we're underway, Regnar will go to the Pearl and collect Ian. He suggested you might be good to bring along, in case they plan any trickery," the storyteller explained.
Martel nodded. From what he had seen of Regnar's spellwork, it was subtle rather than offensive; useful for supportive purposes, but no substitute for what a battlemage or mageknight could bring to the table. And if they refused to release the boy or had harmed him in any way, Martel would gladly burn the Pearl to the ground. "I'll be there, as early as I can. And we'll get Ian back for you."
Theo nodded with an unhappy smile. "You're a friend to the friendless, Martel. We won't forget."
The acolyte took a deep breath. He wanted to go now, march over to the Pearl and demand Ian's release, but he knew that was only his impatience talking. If Lady Pearl got what she wanted and saw the troupe leaving tomorrow morning, she had no reason to harm the boy or keep him captive any further. Exhaling, Martel nodded to himself before looking at the despairing faces around him. "Tomorrow at the Pearl."
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