Alchimia Rex

[099] [Bond Friction]



The journey deeper into the woods was tense, and just about everyone present looked ready to jump at the first sign of trouble. While the humans and weaker maidens were carried in their “ride-chairs” on the backs of the Orcs, Rick had the “honor” of being bridal carried by Monica. The feline was the worst one off. She was practically vibrating with the anxiety coursing through her. Eyes kept darting this way and that, ears operating like hyperactive radar dishes in search of any threat.

Any attempt Rick made to calm her down or take the edge off was rebuffed. Her fuzzy arms remained tightly holding him as if her own life depended on it. Meanwhile, Eva and Embla trailed behind the group, both restrained barely enough to ensure they could keep up with the march. Fortunately, nothing happened along the way; they made it to the Orc “outpost” where Urtha had set up alongside the vast majority of the fighters they’d brought along. The instant they were spotted, the guards sounded their horns.

Urtha, Dia, and Sheel practically ran to greet them. Their expressions turned from surprised to concerned once they saw that they’d brought everyone. “Explain,” Urtha spoke up first.

“We were-”

“Can’t keep Rick safe alone,” Monica cut him off, squeezing his face against her chest to ensure her voice would ring out. “Silence attacked.”

“Enough!” In a flare of annoyance, Rick shoved himself off, squirming his way out of her grasp just enough to land on his feet. He didn’t bother to try to move away from her, not when her claws had laid a firm grip on his shoulders. “We were attacked by a Golden Elf, but she got away. Monica insists it’s impossible to stick around without putting my life seriously at risk. I need to talk to Deneva before Monica decides time is up and kidnaps me back to Sinco.”

“The bond is pushing her this quickly?” Dia paled, eyes widening.

Urtha’s jaw set, thick eyebrows lowering into a singular fuzzy line as she looked at Monica. “How serious is this?”

“Rick will die,” Monica’s declaration came loudly, halfway to a roar.

Urtha pulled out her metal-coated shield and spear. “We-”

“Not enough,” She cut her off. “Slow. Cannot see, cannot smell. Easy kill. Dead.” Her grip on Rick’s shoulders tightened.

“They got one of the guards,” Eva stepped up, hands chained to her neck in what couldn’t have been a comfortable position, but she somehow made it look regal. “Asphyxiated her with a wire of some kind; no one so much as heard a thing.”

“Dead,” Monica nodded.

“Also-”

“As I said,” Rick hastily spoke up, interrupting Eva before she talked about Kiara’s disappearance. “I need to meet Deneva before Monica snaps.”

Sheel stepped forward, giving Urtha and Monica a slight bow before placing herself directly in front of Rick. “The Chieftess’ command takes precedence during a battle, Father, and right now we were attacked.” The Hobgoblin spoke slowly and carefully. “Is this meeting truly a matter that pertains to the tribe?” She glanced at Embla. “Or only one pertaining to your prisoner?”

It was clear she wanted to make things official; Monica’s barely restrained panic from the bond was putting everyone against the wall. Rick was grateful for Sheel’s question; it was probably the only way that his voice would hold weight for the tribal maidens under the current circumstances.

“Captain Deneva represents the Earl. He is powerful enough that, with his aid, we could guarantee no noble would come to our gate. But by the same token, without his aid, or worse, his anger, we would be crushed.”

Sheel gave half a nod. “You promised us that Sinco’s walls would give us protection, a home.”

“Do you build a house and expect it to just stand forever if you don’t give it maintenance?” Rick called out. “Do you plant a field once and hope it’ll provide you food forever without any other work? This is work, my work, to keep the tribe safe, to hold this promise. If things don’t work out, it could potentially unmake everything.”

With a slight nod and a bow, Sheel stepped back; the older maiden relaxed as she turned to Urtha and the other Orcs. “You heard the Father, what do you say? Should we allow him to be put in danger?” She glanced at Urtha. “You are bonded; you cannot vote in this.”

Urtha was grinding her teeth. “I know.”

Sheel raised her spear. “Chieftess.” Then her shield. “Father.”

The Orcs began raising their arms; some raised their shields, others their spears. Rick didn’t have a good vantage point. The average Orc was a full head and shoulders taller than him, so he could only see the first row. But the crowd began to split up as each side gathered to make counting easier.

It was a full five minutes of silence.

“One hundred and twelve for Chieftess,” Sheel declared before turning to count the other group. Another five minutes passed before she raised her voice again. “One hundred and forty for Father.”

Urtha looked despondent at the claim, her eyes taking a sudden edge as she looked at him with what could only be fear. She turned away as soon as Sheel squeezed her shoulder, the Hobgoblin approaching Rick. “Your mission will be our priority, Father.” She looked up at Monica, and then, with a sigh, turned back to the crowd. “If Spear and Chieftess are overwhelmed by the bond, then my voice will lead us in battle. Does anyone fight this claim?”

None spoke up.

Sheel turned to Monica. “I would never harm the Father; you know this.” She stood firm. “If we have to fight because the bond has taken over, I ask only that you pull your punches.”

There was no growl, no threat, no snarl. Monica’s grip on Rick’s shoulders merely stilled.

The air became thick with power; Rick’s skin tingled as every hair stood up straight.

The two maidens stared at each other.

Then, Dia walked up next to Sheel, dressed completely in spiky black armor and staring up at Monica. “He’s doing this for the nest too,” she proclaimed, chin raised, holding the helmet under one arm.

“Monica… knows.” She spoke with a waver in her voice.

Urtha took the opposite side of Sheel. “We will protect him.”

Another heartbeat.

The tension dissipated, but Monica didn’t let go. She bent over, hugging him tightly but otherwise not saying anything. She shared a nod with Urtha, and the Orc turned back to the tribe. “Alright, pack up, ladies, we’re moving!” She roared. “Hound, go warn the metal buckets that we’re coming. Come back either once that’s done or if something goes wrong.”

Eli didn’t look too pleased at being commanded by her, nor the tone, but took a bow and vanished into the shadows.

Rick was left with Monica glued to him like some overzealous backpack, just one that happened to be able to bench-press a bus. It was comforting from knowing she’d slaughter anyone suspicious that got close, but also unnerving because it made even moving around a hassle.

He understood the danger they were in, but that didn’t make things any less uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Eva and Embla weren’t too far away, mostly appearing deep in thought. It didn’t take too long for Dia to join them, the healer approaching carefully, waiting for Monica to give an affirmation of her existence before getting closer.

“Do not begrudge her. She has no choice in the matter,” Dia said softly. “It is no different from an ailment.”

“I know.” With a sigh, he kept rubbing the fur of Monica’s arms. “Anything I should know about the situation with Deneva? Monica didn’t get a chance to share much and has been like this… well, you know why.”

“The captain’s main goal is finding and ensuring the safety of Barry and May,” she quickly proclaimed. “That, and she might pressure you regarding Kiara. The King has placed a bounty for anyone who can catch the charmer.” She squirmed a little, looking away. “It is an offer for a title of nobility.”

“HE WHAT!?” Eva jumped to her feet, vanishing into the shadows and emerging just a few meters off to the side. She stopped herself before getting any closer when Monica let out a low growl. The Vampire grimaced as she clearly wanted to move nearer but held back. “Rick, do you realize how big of a deal this is?”

“I don’t care.” The answer was simple and direct. Rick shook his head. “Even if they were offering the crown.”

“It would remove the Darktons from the equation, at least for the foreseeable future,” she insisted. “A newly fledged noble cannot be attacked for ten and two years by anyone under the king’s command.”

“And I won’t bother to consider it.” This time his tone carried finality to it. “Anything else?”

Eva was quick to bow. “No, I shouldn’t have presumed your priorities, my Lord.” And vanished into the shadows.

The exchange was not one Rick was happy for; he hoped this whole situation could resolve itself cleanly. With the recent attack and Kiara’s disappearance, there was little doubt where the Pinielf had gone. So currently, the best-case scenario involving Deneva was that she would lend a hand with that.

How she fit into what was to come felt like a gigantic unknown hanging over his head.

If there was one thing he begrudged Kiara, it was that she hadn't made clear the conditions of Embla's compliance. Rick could only guess that part of the reason was exactly that he was a human, thus someone Embla would not trust. Even now, her gaze lingered on him in silent judgment.

Once everything was ready, they set off again, and once more Monica took him into a bridal carry as they made their way towards the knight encampment and the palace built inside a behemoth of a tree.

They were greeted not by a simple, small committee but by a wall of armored maidens standing shoulder to shoulder, each and every one armed to the teeth. Dia and Eva quietly reassured Rick this was protocol. The knights couldn't just idly watch a force approach and not take precautions.

Parley was called, both sides raising a white flag.

On Rick's side, he was the one to approach, Monica holding his shoulders, while Dia, Urtha, and Sheel remained slightly behind. The knights, on the other hand, only sent a single young man and Captain Deneva. The Swordmistress wore her full regalia, with two sheathed blades on either side of her hips, face hidden behind the severe impassivity of the helm.

"Greetings, Richard Cross, temporary Lord of Sinco," the young man spoke with a bow, keeping himself at a cordial dozen meters. "I am Lord Harold Vittchat. Though we share the same family name, I am merely the third cousin to the Earl." The man's smile was dazzling. "Or put differently, about fourteen different relatives would need to die before I had a chance at inheriting the title."

"Pleasure to meet you," Rick replied, wondering what this was about.

"As per tradition, and to keep things… clean, I will be the representative for this knight expedition. Royal Captain Deneva here remains as my right hand." Harold glanced at Monica. "Before we discuss anything, is there something wrong with your maiden?"

"We were attacked earlier today, and she is on edge."

Harold visibly twitched, gaze turning to look at Deneva. She removed her helmet and stepped forward. Her approach was steady and firm, yet the instant Monica growled, she lowered to a knee, bowing her head. "Until this parley is concluded, I will endeavor to keep Rick Cross safe."

The abruptness of it all caught Rick by surprise, leaving him entirely unsure of what to say or how to react.

The shock redoubled when Monica eased off of him. "Fine," the feline stated flatly, taking only half a step back from him. He shot her a look, but she didn't return it, keeping her gaze locked on the canopy above.

Urtha and Sheel shared a concerned glance.

Rick could understand why. The only scenario where Monica did this would be if she trusted Deneva to not just fulfill her oath but also to have the capacity to carry it through.

"This is standard protocol for a parley," Harold waved off as if it was nothing to be concerned about, ignoring the half-knelt Deneva as she remained affixed in place. "Not the first time a maiden's bond has pushed them into being a bit too zealous with the safety of their owner. They cannot help themselves, though usually the better way to address it would be through removing their collar."

"Not exactly an option for us," Rick retorted.

"So I've been told. It appears to be a common trait amongst the otherworlders that came with you." Harold shot them a dazzling smile. "The Earl will be very happy to hear of your well-being. The circumstances of your departure from Balet were less than ideal. After news of the feral rush came, Miss Smith began a small campaign to send aid towards the afflicted settlements."

"That does sound like her." He chuckled, but inwardly felt like he was stepping into a swamp. The guy clearly knew more about him than the other way around. Seeing how this had been an unexpected encounter, it appeared Harold had made it his business to know as much about the otherworlders as he could. What sort of politics were unfolding over there? "I think I'd like to hear more about the others, but that will have to wait until we finish this."

"You seek amicable terms, then?"

"Better than a fight, that's for sure." Rick nodded.

"Oh, splendid." Harold kept that smile as if it was the most natural thing. "Then would you happen to be open to hand us over the Malumari and Vampire currently in your possession? Captain Deneva caught their presence before you arrived."

"What would be the issue if I keep them as my prisoners?"

"Under this kingdom's law, only a proper noble can contain maidens of such a dangerous nature." Harold gave a curt bow. "We do not doubt your capacity in handling such dangerous beings; having bonded White Claw is a grand feat. But the threats these creatures present is a risk the king does not wish to take."

Ah.

So this was how they planned to add pressure. Rick returned the smile with a plastic one of his own. He doubted they could’ve prepared for this opportunity. That might mean he’d have an easier time tearing it down. “Forgive my ignorance, but I take it that a Baron would be a proper noble title, correct?”

“Indeed.”

“And, according to what you just said, a Baron should be perfectly capable of handling dangerous maidens.”

Harold slowed for a moment as he gave half a nod. “Nobles are well-trained, Sir Rick, and were you to become one, I am certain the kingdom would spare no expense to provide you with any tools you might need.”

Rick didn’t doubt that, but he also wasn’t about to jump on the bandwagon. Not without making sure it was under his own circumstances.

“My question was mostly in regards to the Baron of Astunes. You see, he died in early spring while attempting to take Monica from me.” His smile thinned. “Then, Lord Thorley, after having been presented with the option of peaceful surrender, sought to take the maiden I was bonded to from me as well.”

Deneva slowly moved her hands to the hilts of her blades, her emerald eyes slowly moving from Urtha to Sheel to Monica.

“There might be some cultural dissonance here, Sir Rick, but to be blunt, are you making a threat?” Harold’s composure had turned into a carefully neutral one.

“I happen to be bonded to the Vampire, Lord Harold, and the Malumari is bonded to Barry Dodson. Neither will respond well to being taken unwillingly, and I hesitate to believe we are in a position where we could afford to fight them.” He glanced at Urtha. “Would you mind showing what I mean?”

Nodding, she made some gestures towards the tribe. After a minute, Embla and Eva stepped forward. Neither of them moved any further than a couple of meters from the tribe, remaining at the edge of the unspoken no man's land.

Rick raised his voice. “Ladies, could you please remove the restraints from yourselves?”

Both maidens shared a glance. Embla shrugged and, with a yank of her arms, shattered the chains holding her. Meanwhile, Eva fiddled with hers for a moment before she turned to black mist, the metal clanging to the ground.

He turned back to Harold and Deneva.

“As you can see, their willing compliance is very valuable to me.” The smile returned. “There is also the matter of the potential group of Golden Elves that attacked us this morning. Seeing how we might have to confront them soon, I thought neither side could really spare the resources in containing them.”

Harold hadn’t looked away from the two ‘prisoners,’ mouth slightly agape. His eyes turned to Deneva, watching as the knight Captain didn’t move from the spot, still holding the hilt of her swords as if prepared to pounce.

Rick was slightly surprised Monica wasn’t reacting to this. Maybe Deneva’s gesture was being seen as one prepared to defend, rather than attack?

“My Lord, I can attest that the Malumari does pose a significant threat. We have crossed blades before,” the Swordmistress proclaimed as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Embla didn’t even react. “I cannot be certain of the Vampire; she appears inexperienced.”

“So it seems,” Harold crossed his arms, cocking his head a moment as he looked at Rick, then at the Orcs. “Do you understand the bind you have put me in, Sir Rick?”

“These are hard times, and I’ve made do with what I have available,” Rick shrugged. “Still, I’ve brought enough gifts to hopefully gain some leniency.”

“So it seems,” he repeated, then let out a long sigh. “I cannot in good faith allow either of your prisoners into my camp, nor can I allow them out of our sight. We will place no less than three knights to guard them; you may determine how many of your own should be part of this task as well.” Rubbing his chin, he looked over at Deneva, and then back at his own knights. “Do you believe these Golden Elves pose a serious threat?”

Monica stepped forward. “Yes,” she declared sharply.

“She knows better than I do,” Rick added.

Harold did not appear too impressed by the interaction, perhaps from Monica speaking out of turn, but whatever his thoughts were, he didn’t add any comment on the matter. “Captain Deneva?”

“I cannot speak for what threat the Pinielf might pose, but seeing White Claw’s current state, I believe the Golden Elves are not something we could treat lightly.”

“It’s settled, then,” the noble clapped twice. “Proper parlay accepted, Sir Rick. We will sit down and have a talk of things. Friction aside, I do think your… tribe would prove to be of great help in our endeavor.” The smile returned, perhaps a bit more earnest this time. “You also mentioned something about gifts?”


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