Chapter 430 - Major's Mess

Edits complete.

Hump and Celaine were among the last to arrive at the Major’s Mess, Nisha cheerfully in toe. The room was abuzz with conversation, the clatter of cutlery, laughter and cheer. Spirits were surprisingly high, all things considered. A far cry from what Hump had expected, though it didn’t take long to find out why.

“You both received new blessings?” Hump asked, glancing between Bud and Dylan, who were seated at the long table enjoying a late breakfast.

Bud nodded, a proud smile on his face. “We did indeed. It came to us both in the night.”

“Many here did,” Dylan said, more confused than pleased. “I have never heard of so many Chosen receiving a blessing so soon after their last. It was only a few weeks ago when we left the Infernal Halls.”

“No,” Hump said. “Can’t say I have either. Certainly strange, but a nice confidence boost I suppose.” He gave Bud a smile. “Congratulations… again.”

“I know you have your doubts,” Bud whispered. “But the gods have a plan—I know they do. And this is a sign that we are working toward it. So often you ask why the gods do not intervene, well now they are.”

“It just took the fall of Fort Nordric and the second last of the Twelve Seals,” Hump said.

Bud clasped his wrist. “We walk a righteous path. There is a plan, Hump.”

“That’s what worries me,” Hump muttered under his breath.

“I will not argue with you on this,” Bud said. “I shall believe for the both of us.”

Hump drifted through the room, exchanging brief words with Len and Teff before dropping by to say hello to Emilia who was deep in conversation with Madeleine, Randall, Faelor, and Skander, debating what the expansion of the Fallen Lands meant for the kingdom. Tamsin sat nearby, cutting in every now and then as she twirled one of her axes, eager for whatever fight would come. Celaine lounged nearby, her legs slung over one armrest, a plate balanced precariously on her lap, filled with fruit and jam cakes, eating slowly as she listened to the chatter.

Marcela had originally secured the room for a celebratory meal upon their return to Elenvine, but with the news of Fort Nordric’s fall, she had been called away to a command meeting alone—not as a squad leader, but as Count Daston’s daughter, affording her privileges the rest of them lacked. She had promised to tell them what she could once she was finished, so in the meantime, Hump waited…

“Hump,” Celaine said, catching his eye. “Get some food and sit down. You’re even making me stressed with you pacing around everywhere. Look! Nisha can’t even settle.”

Hump glanced over to see the dragon watching him from where she lay on the floor near Dylan. “Sorry. Nothing to worry about.”

She clearly didn’t believe him but went back to getting pampered by Dylan while Hump followed Celaine’s advice, getting himself some food. It was open service—something he had never seen in a restaurant. The closest he had come to this was a camp kitchen for an adventurer force, and it was far from as good as this. With a plate ladened up with meat, Hump returned to the table.

It was a while later when the door creaked open, and a hush fell across the room. Marcela stepped inside, but it was the man who followed that drew everyone’s attention. Count Daston himself, draped in a military uniform that looked a little odd on such a big man.

A few people stood instinctively. Hump rose a moment later, and the others followed suit.

“No need for that,” Count Daston said, gesturing for them to be seated. “Good afternoon, everyone. Marcela informed me of your gathering. I thought I would join her to update you on what news we can.”

Seats shifted as they all turned to face him. Bud and Dylan joined Hump and Celaine at the table, Emilia shifting over to sit with them too.

He entered the room fully, nodding for Marcela to shut the door. Then his sharp gaze swept over the gathered faces. “Before we speak of politics or plans, I wanted to say this first: You’ve done something extraordinary. The discovery of the warlock stronghold in the Remnant Realm is a turning point, and each of you had your hand in it. Marshal Anara made very clear of that, I assure you, as did Prince Gregory who expressed the grand impression that the expedition force made on him.”

There was a beat of silence. Around the room, people sat a little straighter. In moments, Count Daston had managed to draw every one of their attention.

“We are grateful,” he went on. “But gratitude alone doesn’t win wars. Information does. And you must know what we face.”

He moved toward the head of the table, clasping his hands behind his back. “Firstly, as I’m sure you have heard by now, Fort Nordric has fallen. And with it, the Dukedom of Nordric is as good as lost. The fortress lies in ruin, and its people—those that still live—are fleeing south. Our forces are scrambling to establish a new defensive line along the River Lark. That line must hold. If it fails, the rest of Alveron will soon follow.

Even the warmth of the fire seemed to dim at that. Bud’s expression darkened, and Emilia stilled mid-sip of her drink.

Hump knew what Count Daston spoke of already—thoughts of such a situation had plagued his mind that night. While he had no true loyalty to Alveron—at least, not the leaders of the kingdom—he felt a kinship here. These were his people, even if growing up it had not always felt like that. If Alveron were to fall, where would he go? Drakalyn? A life in a single place didn’t suit him, but perhaps he could grow used to it.

“Grave news, but it was not all so grim, I assure you,” Count Daston said. “The War Council has been assembled and will soon meet to discuss how we proceed with the discovery in the Remnant Realm. This goes without saying, but you must not speak of it to anyone. Not to other Chosen, to friends in other parties, to long term allies even. Those that do not know, do not need to know, not even your commanders, unless specifically instructed. The information must remain tightly contained.”

“Do you expect there are spies in our midst?” Hump asked.

“Yes,” Count Daston said. “It is almost a certainty. The very best of us have fallen—if Godfrey can betray his people, then anyone can. It is only because you all are so closely connected to all this that I can speak to you now.”

“Not that there is much we can say,” Marcela said, taking her place beside her father. “The meeting was… spirited.”

“Ah,” Randall said. He turned to the rest of the squad. “My fellow lords and ladies can become paralysed with indecision when such a situation presents itself.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Marcela said. “Some want to immediately attack the stronghold. Others want to wait and prepare, build up our defences against the Fallen Lands and wait for an opportunity to present itself. And then some believe we still lack information.”

“We found the bloody fortress,” Teff said. “What more do they want?”

Marcela gave a helpless shrug. “A clearer grasp of the enemy’s strength. I don’t know. I got the impression nobody wanted to make a decision.”

“That will come with time,” Count Daston said. “Marshall Anara’s report was well received. There will be an assault, that much is certain. But first, the war council must agree upon a clear plan. These things never move quickly, especially when involving such a large number of soldiers. It may have been over a millennia since anybody tried to siege a fortress in another realm.” A tense stillness fell over the room again. Then, the Count said quietly, “Whatever happens next… I will likely ask for your support again.”

“Not just my father,” Marcela said. “All of you are invaluable to this squad. I am sure much will be asked of me in the battles to come, and there is no one I would rather face it with. I understand I am asking a lot, particularly for you, Hump, and your party. There is nothing holding you here, but still, I ask for your continued support.”

Hump glanced at his friends. Dylan gave a faint nod. Bud met his gaze and returned a resolute look. Celaine gave the faintest of smirks.

Hump turned back to Marcela, a smile on his lips. “You shall have it, Marcela.”

Affirmations filled the room.

Marcela’s expression relaxed. “Thank you.”

Beside her, Count Daston watched her proudly.

Talk soon turned away from the briefing and Marcela and her father joined them for a meal. It was afterward that Hump managed to find a quiet moment alone with the count.

“May I speak with you briefly, Count?” Hump asked quietly.

The man frowned but nodded. “Of course.”

They moved to a quieter corner near the window, far enough that their voices would not carry to most of the room. Light filtered through the heavy curtains.

Hump wasted no time. “I wanted to know if you have any news regarding Prince Kassius.”

Count Daston’s jaw tensed. He took a deep breath before answering. “My wife has informed me of certain accounts you might be concerned about. Whispers among those that participated in the clearing of a certain dungeon near Bledsbury. Before I speak further, I ask you, Wizard Humphrey, are these accounts true?”

Hump didn’t flinch. “Most likely, yes.”

For a long moment, Daston said nothing. His lips pressed into a hard line, and the hand that rested on his sword hilt gave the faintest twitch.

“Then we have a bloody big problem,” he said at last, his voice tight. “I have heard that they are planning a welcoming party.”

Hump frowned. “For who?”

Count Daston arched an eyebrow. “Who do you think?”

Hump’s eyes widened as the realisation struck. “Kassius? They’re welcoming him back?”

“Officially, yes. The king will extend the honours due to a returning prince. No accusations. No public questions. He will be tested—behind closed doors, yes—but treated with the decorum his station demands.”

Hump’s voice was sharp. “But he’s dangerous. You know what he is. Surely the king was informed of what happened too.”

“And still nothing can be done—not yet,” Daston said grimly. “Politics are both a shield and a prison both. Until proof is undeniable, he must be received with open arms. To do otherwise would throw the court into chaos.”

“Yet I fear the chaos that welcoming him may bring,” Hump said darkly. “He is most certainly working for the warlocks. This will be part of their plan to destroy the final seal.”

Count Daston sighed. “Sometimes I fear you are far too involved in all that is happening, lad. It is a great burden for one so young.”

“Believe me, I would much rather someone else deal with it,” Hump said. “But I have seen what these warlocks are capable of. I have glimpsed one of the gods they wish to set free. You must not allow Kassius to establish himself. His very presence here puts all of Elenvine in danger.”

Count Daston paused, considering his words carefully. “There are many in this city working to keep its people safe. I cannot say more on the matter.”

Hump nodded, reading between the lines. “Then I will speak no more on it either. If I can be of assistance, do let me know. As you said, I am already heavily involved. I’d rather face it head on than be caught off guard by the unexpected.”

A smile spread across Count Daston’s face. “Of course. It is amazing how often burden finds its way to the shoulders of those that can bare it. I have heard you are not the most faithful toward the Pantheon, but from where I stand, it seems the gods may have had hand in your role here.”

“If they did, it’s not appreciated.”

“Do not be so quick to dismiss it. It is the men and women of this world that carry such burdens that reach the highest points. Your name may echo through the books of history, Wizard Humphrey.”

Hump wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he knew what his master would say. “Such things have never been a goal of mine. So long as I have a warm bed and food in my belly, and my friends are safe, that’s all I can ask for. As for history books, dead is dead, and the dead don’t care.”

“Time will tell,” Count Daston said. “For now, we had best get back to lunch before anyone starts asking questions.”

Hump thanked the count then waited for him to rejoin the others. Count Daston had implied there were groups working against Kassius already, so at the very least, the prince would be monitored. With any luck that would be enough to stop whatever it was he was sent here to do.

There was another matter that Hump would need to deal with. Chances were, he would be the subject of an angry prince’s grudge. A prince that had already tried to kill him once. He would need to prepare. His mind went to Wizard Aldric—he had an ally in him, and with him, the Three Eyes. Perhaps he could persuade them to get involved. And Prince Gregory knew. Hump had put his trust in him and revealed what he knew. If he was right about his character, that trust would be rewarded.

The more Hump thought on it, the more his confidence returned. He was not facing the wrath of Kassius alone, and he was no longer a simple hedge wizard.