ARC 7-Cursed Fates-117-Earl (Patreon)

His lady had a reputation as a frivolously indulgent woman but in truth, Lou didn’t recklessly spend her, or more accurately her wife’s, wealth. Accustomed to a simple life, she was satisfied by simple things. She liked the comfort of wealth more than the pleasure of spending it. However, she was no spendthrift. When she did buy something, she wanted the best.

Something Earl was thankful for as the carriage was bombarded with all manner of projectiles as they barreled through the streets of Quest. It was a harrowing experience, but he’d been trained to maintain a calm mind through worse. Everyone in the vehicle was remarkably calm, besides Allen. He’d started crying after the first spell shook the carriage’s walls.

When Yulia failed to shush the boy, Earl was forced to put a few drops of a mixture meant to make one drowsy on the boy’s tongue, knocking him out in minutes. He’d needed to reassure Yulia many times that it was completely harmless and that he knew the proper dosage.

Afterwards, one of the lady knights asked him why he was carrying the mixture, to which he had no good answer. It was simply common sense to carry a few mixtures, powders, and potions on his person at all times. The goal of any good servant was to have the ability to fulfill any of their master’s desires at any time. A goal far beyond Earl’s reach. All he could do was to prepare for as many scenarios he could think of. For that reason, he always kept weapons, medicines, poisons, and gold on his person.

There was a heavy pounding on the front of the carriage. “That’s the signal,” one of the Stars said. “Everyone, prepare yourself.”

Earl stretched out his arms to Yulia. When she hesitated, he reiterated his previous promises. “I’ll take care of him. I’m confident in my ability to escape capture but even if we are surrounded, I won’t endanger his life. I swear it.”

She didn’t look reassured by his words, but she didn’t have any other choice. The sleepy Allen was placed in Earl’s arms. The steward accepted the responsibility with solemnity before turning his attention to his sister. Despite being closer in age to Allen than him, she was just as calm, stuffing the shivering flocketts into the pockets of her jacket. His lips turned up in a smile as he watched her preparations.

He used to wish she would never have to face danger but, after they lost their parents, Earl had accepted, been forced to accept, that the world was a dangerous place. Life was full of strife no matter where a person was or their status. Better to ask that they be ready for any danger that might cross their paths.

The carriage took another hard turn, the wheels skidding across the road. It was the signal. Anna threw open the door and dove out, Earl right behind her. As planned, they were right in front of a dark alley and the carriage never stopped, hurtling down the road without slowing down. The two siblings huddled against one of the alley walls, cloaking themselves in shadows. Earl breathed deeply and softly, slowing his heartbeat and minimizing his presence.

He heard the hunters chasing after the others, horses blasting past their position and heavy footsteps causing roofing to rain down into the alley as more agile hunters leaped across rooftops. Earl waited until he didn’t hear a trace of them. Then he waited longer. The young steward didn’t move a fraction beyond the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest. After several minutes, a soft squeak broke the silence but a quirky growl-bark from Anna quieted the beasts.

They waited.

And they waited.

Allen started to stir. Earl put half a drop of his sleeping mixture on the boy’s tongue and he settled.

They continued to wait.

Hours later, Earl finally moved but he didn’t make a sound. He passed Allen to his sister before running at the alley wall, kicking off of it to grab the edge of the roof. He smoothly hauled himself onto it and crouched, stressing his senses. He didn’t notice anyone in the immediate area.

Satisfied, he returned to his sister. He reclaimed Allen before grabbing her hand. Together, they walked through the darkness.

Earl knew the city intimately, at least as much as was marked on the map he memorized. He’d learned to effectively run errands for his lady. They didn’t hurry as they moved, no different from flickering shadows if one didn’t look closely as they stuck to alleys, dead ends doing nothing to impede them.

Quest didn’t have slums like the capital, the city was too prosperous for that level of disregard. Earl wouldn’t have chosen them anyway. From his investigations of the city, the poor of the city were deeply intertwined with the guilds. They provided the people of the city, especially the underprivileged, with opportunities and security. They were also quick to notice outsiders. If he moved amongst them recklessly, the hunters would find them in no time.

Instead, Earl moved towards the Myriad Zone. He had multiple reasons for doing so.

First, the Zone was disputed territory, in a sense. There were areas of the city where the hunters’ influence was absolute. The poorer neighborhoods for one. Also the markets, as most stores in the city were operated or sponsored by a guild.

But there were also places where the hunters didn’t have much influence. The richer neighborhoods close to the Teppin estate for one, as those who coveted their own power or were loyal to the crown lived there. The Hall, of course, as the acolytes were loyal to themselves first and Dunwayne second.

The Zone was split. The guilds sponsored plenty of businesses within it but so did independent factions from the Hall. Residences in the Hall weren’t cheap, for acolytes or instructors. It wasn’t uncommon for them to buy homes in the city, usually in the Zone as the prices were cheap. The colorful abnormality was amusing the first time one saw it, but after the twelfth? The hundredth? For most, it was nauseating.

There were also the researchers studying the Myriad Zone and agents of the Hall who handled the school’s business, those who kept the school supplied and negotiated its services with the city.

The guilds couldn’t afford to recklessly throw around their authority within the Zone, as they risked interrupting the Hall’s business. Better, any description the hunters had of the children would be compromised by the Zone’s effects. Most importantly, as an area packed with plenty of taverns, bars, restaurants, pleasure houses, and businesses that catered to a good time, the people on the streets would be far too busy or intoxicated to be aware of their surroundings.

It was the perfect place to disappear.

Despite being the middle of the night, the streets of the Zone were plenty busy. Earl tightened his grip on his sister’s hand and casually walked through the crowd. They didn’t go unnoticed but those that saw them didn’t pay attention for long, their gazes quickly attracted by something more interesting.

Earl took them to a large inn near the lift to the Hall called the Sleepy Spell. It was an unimpressive building with a tacky name, but he knew it had close connections to the Hall, owned and ran by a former instructor who got into business providing reasonable accommodations to those visiting the Hall. It was staffed by acolytes and instructors frequently drank in the bar. He was sure the hunters would think twice about attacking it, if they even could find him.

The door opened to the bar, which was packed full of boisterous patrons despite the late hour. The children got a few looks, but he ignored them as he made his way to a small desk near a stairwell.

A young woman with dark blue skin and gray hair sat behind it, her chin resting in a palm as she stared at the wall in front of her blankly. She didn’t notice Earl until he stood right in front of her, dark eyes flicking over them before her expression scrunched in confusion.

“Good evening, miss,” Earl said, ignoring the way the young woman’s eyebrows rose as he took out a handful of silver crowns. “I’d like a private room on the second floor. Dinner for two and some snacks if you have them. Jerky and fruit. A jug of water also. Is that possible?”

“Sure,” she said as he placed the money in front of her, sweeping the coins up and tucking them away. “Should I ask where your parents are?” she asked in a drab voice as she grabbed a key from under the desk, sliding it toward him.

“They’re dead.”

Her bored expression cracked at his words. She swallowed as she met his deadpan stare and winced when she looked at Allen. “I’ll have the food up soon as possible,” she mumbled.

“Thank you, miss.”

Earl tugged Anna up the stairs, hurrying them to their room. Inside, Earl laid Allen on the bed and Anna removed the flocketts from her pockets. As promised, a young girl brought a tray with their food in minutes. Earl collected the food before blocking the door with the room’s dresser.

Earl woke Allen with special smelling salts. The boy was drowsy and irritable but that didn’t stop the steward from feeding him soup and a little bread. Anna needed no encouragement to attack her food nor the flocketts that ravaged the jerky. Allen quickly fell back to asleep and Anna soon followed.

Earl remained awake. He dragged the room’s only chair to the end of the bed and sat, thin knives clutched in each hand as he waited with his eyes closed, mind entirely focused on his surroundings. He had every intention of staying that way until his lady found them.

And if anyone else did before then, he would be ready.