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Yperian

“I heard your expedition yesterday bore fruit,” Yperian said, pouring the mythics some drinks, as had seemed to become custom during their many meetings.

He noticed, once again, that Emony was being very careful with his chalice – unusually so. He hated spilling good wine as much as the next man, but it still struck him as odd. Aylard had reported to him earlier that the man was ghastly afraid of being wet, too. It was strange – and likely due to his true nature. Seeing him handle the silver without care made him suspect he was not a werewolf or sorcerer, as he’d initially suspected. He was likely something else… Of course, he wouldn’t reveal anything related to the matter to anyone. For some reason, it struck him that no good would come from doing so.

“The merchant is dead,” Emony said. “He was killed and taken by the men of the lake. He’s one of them now. Unless, for whatever reason, he decided to fake his own death and run.”

The lamia turned to look at him through her jeweled mask, the vipers on her head hissing quietly, while Emony busied himself with tying a new bandage around her stomach. Yperian saw that her wound had already mostly healed – startlingly quickly. The man’s broken arm, unfortunately, had not.

Perhaps he really is human, Yperian thought. But he doubted it.

“That’s not it. It was human blood, I could tell from the smell,” said Tiphaine, raising her arms to make things easier on her companion.

Yperian leaned back into his chair. “I assumed that’s what happened, anyway. A shame. Anyway, my man Aylard tells me you’re searching for a girl, one that likely died in the rebellion ten years ago. May I ask why?”

“She’s involved,” said Emony, tying a knot.

“How?”

The snake looked down towards her friend. “Should we tell him?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not everything, but… why not?”

“So, um… This girl, Imarah, she’s connected to the men of the lake. If we find her, and we bring her to them, we might be able to end all the bloodshed.”

“Provided she’s alive?”

“I… don’t know. But even if she’s not, we still need to find her and bring her here. Yes, even if she’s dead. It’s the only thing that matters – if we do that, the men of the lake might stop attacking.”

Yperian leaned forward and laid his chin on his hands, thinking.

“I cannot possibly see why. But I suppose the reason is simple: magic. A set of forces and rules I couldn’t possibly understand. I will not ask you to explain. So, this merchant of yours, the one that died, he was the lead that might have led you to the girl? Aylard said it was his carriage that the knights used to cart around the dead ten years ago, and that she may have ended up on it. I happen to know that quite a few of the knights involved in the coup were from Terrena. I’m even acquainted with some of them. I’ll send a few men to ask them about the matter, but it would perhaps be easier if I knew more about the merchant than just his name. It has been ten years.”

“I doubt it, but maybe these will help,” said Emony, taking some pieces of parchment from a pocket in his jacket. Come to think of it, Yperian couldn’t imagine where the man could have gotten yet another set of clothing. At this point, he looked downright regal. But… that wasn’t important. Was it?

“They’re letters, one of which Garrick wrote himself. It seems the man was literate.”

“Not terribly unusual, for a merchant.”

Tiphaine leaned in close to Emony. “Do you really think it’s for Lenah? The one we know?”

“You know what she’s like. It may well be. Maybe not, though, there was a silver ring tied to the letter.”

“A silver one? Lenah would’ve hated that. Let me see it. Oh, but it’s so pretty!”

“Then keep it.”

“Seriously? Thanks! I’ll treasure it forever.”

“You better, or Garrick’s ghost will come after you.”

“The Bank of Trouwts… I believe that business is in Levara. Oh, right, you’re foreigners. It’s a small town southwest of here. About as far away as Terrena, though in a different direction. Not many go there, there are lots of swamps in that corner of the kingdom. It’s plagued by diseases, more so than by bandits. The perfect place for a brave merchant, though, come to think of it. And this… a love letter? For the lady…? The king’s royal advisor? No, never mind, it can’t be. Hm, it’s not half bad. I like the double meaning here. But Gull’s Landing… that is somewhat closer to here than Levara. More of a village, similar to Coldbarrow. It’s to the northeast – by the frozen sea. That’s the ocean, you know. Only that, that far north the ice never truly melts. It’s too risky for a ship to go there.”

“Not further north…” grumbled the cold-blooded Tiphaine.

“Northeast – is it close to Palehome?” asked Emony.

He needed a map, Yperian realized. He was relying far too much on his shabby memory. Still… “I don’t think so, not really. I suppose you could go to Palehome on your way to Gull’s Landing if you wanted to, but you would have to take a detour. A rather pointless one, even for a merchant – the savages of Palehome don’t speak our language or use our currency. Speaking plainly, that’s the rear end of Evaria.”

Emony seemed to gaze at him uneasily. “Is there already snow up there?” he asked.

“I would imagine so. Palehome is up on a mountain, so they must have snow all year round.”

The man and the lamia shared a look. Yperian wished he knew the context behind it.

“Bummer. Well, what about Gull’s Landing?”

“No snow there yet. There will be soon, mind you – but not yet. An envoy coming from there passed through Coldbarrow on his way to Terrena, only two weeks ago. He said that the climate was refreshing, whatever that means. It’s a much more commonly travelled path than that to Palehome, if you’re looking to visit.”

“I think we’re going to have to,” said Emony. It seemed he wasn’t going to spare his cold-blooded friend any suffering. “On the off-chance that’s the Lenah we know, we could use her help, and if it’s not, perhaps it was someone who was close to the dead guy. Sorry, Tiphaine. After that, if we don’t find anything, we can go to Levara.”

“As if it’s not cold enough here,” the lamia grumbled.

“We’ll need some more warm clothing,” Emony told Yperian.

“Understood,” he nodded, not dissatisfied in the least. Their leaving would be a welcome respite for the villagers, if nothing else. “We’ll pack you some provisions, then. In the meantime, I’ll send a few of my men to Terrena, and have them ask those knights about the merchant. Perhaps I could have them ask King Raynardt, too. He’s quite intent on having this situation resolved quickly, and my reports up until now have brought nothing but bad news. If this would help end the threat of the undead, he would be glad to help. And even if he knows nothing, we could at least petition him to send us more men.”

“Thank you. That sounds good. Well then, please point us in the direction of Gull’s Landing tomorrow. We’ll leave at dawn.”