The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Twenty Three

Tracou left his home directly after his conversation with Mirthal. He spotted Pendaer sitting near the manor, carving a sizable hunk of wood into a shovel. They briefly locked eyes before Pendaer turned his body around. Fine.

He arrived at Serpouhi's place as she was in the middle of cooking lunch. Upon seeing him, she had smiled and said that she could make him a portion as well. This meant that she would make him a portion and a refusal would be out of the question, so Tracou had no choice but to accept.

They chatted for a while about this and that, about Garin and about Mirthal, about the food. The entire time, Serpouhi beamed. Eventually, Garin entered and silently slotted himself next to her to help cook. His magic could not hope to match Serpouhi's, so he handled stirring some soup while she did the rest. Newlywed joy emanated from them.

How could he bring himself to tell Serpouhi that the village could be destroyed at the whim of a single man?

Lunch passed. Tracou sat with Serpouhi and her husband, occasionally forgotten as the two of them naturally returned their focus to each other.

Garin left, apparently going to help a relative with something. Silence took over Serpouhi's home and she gave Tracou a curious look.

"You didn't come here just for lunch, did you? Your elf must be starving."

"He'll eat anything, so it's not a problem. He can grab a raw potato or two."

Serpouhi inhaled through her teeth and shook her head. "Gross. Anyway, Tracou, was there something you wanted to talk about? It sounds like everything's okay with Mirthal... I'm so glad you worked that out, by the way. I told you he liked you!"

"You were right."

He stopped, hoping for Serpouhi to say something else, but instead she watched him. Tension had taken over his body—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself relax.

"Um, Serpouhi, I have to talk to you about something important..."

She nodded. "Like?"

"Like..." Tracou winced. "L-Like how I want you to officially be my bailiff," he said, cringing all the way.

"Oh! Your bailiff. That makes sense... Garin and I are trying for children, though, so sometimes he'll have to take over my duties."

He didn't especially like the idea of Garin acting as bailiff in lieu of Serpouhi, but if they had no way around it then he had no choice.

"That's fine."

"Good. That's what you wanted to talk about? I guess it wasn't official, but I basically already was your bailiff."

Tracou hesitated, looking squarely at Serpouhi's forehead to avoid her eyes.

The ruler of Winlea knows about Ergakan and he wants to take it and Dezmer as a whole. Winlea has a weapon they can spread through the wind, a weapon that renders magic unusable. We have no idea when they will strike, but we have to think of a way to defend ourselves.

Swallowing dryly, Tracou nodded.

He left her home, walking up the road with heavy feet.

At the top of his hill, he saw Pendaer again. He had carved his block of wood into a crude approximation of a shovel and now was using it to jab at the ground. The winter soil wouldn't split so easily.

"Having fun?" Tracou asked as he approached.

Pendaer glowered at him. His shovel in his hands, he stabbed at the earth once more before letting out a single grunt.