Repercussions of Devotion - Chapter 4
Lockle overhears some interesting news on his way back home.
Locke leaps over the top of the iron gate, bringing him to Starboard once again. The mud finds its way in between his toes when he reaches the bottom, the coldness crawling about his skin. As he tracks mud along the cobblestones, his mind can’t help but linger on the stares he received on the way out. More importantly, he hadn’t bothered to look back towards Avgust. The elf’s gentle smile keeps itself painted in his mind in a way that no amount of head shaking will erase. A sigh leaves his lips as he pushes his hood to feel the sensation of his curls brushing against his neck. Damn it. I could have handled that better.
He keeps his head low as he walks along the crowded cobblestone streets. He feels overwhelmed by the noise of the people around him. He shifts his hands over his ears, hoping to drown them out. He passes a group of women, all of whom are giggling to themselves. Based on how small their dresses made their waists to be and the way they waved their oversized feather fans, Locke could only assume they were discussing the Montreuxs. That lot had a tendency to be a favorite topic of noblewomen. It is at this point that one of them is loud enough for Locke to hear her sarcastic tone -
“I wonder how many of them took an oath of chastity. That discourages most from courting Paladins. I know I wouldn’t.”
Paladins? Here? Locke thought, slowing his pace while keeping his back to the women. Then, a deeper voice comments, “My my, shaming others already? None of them have come off a ship yet, and you’re already passing judgement!”
A third, higher-pitched voice chimes in, “We all knew that Empress Genevieve was going to send soldiers here eventually, what with talk of the Merchant Lords sending soldiers of their own! If it were me, I would have made these arrangements sooner!” Hm. Interesting. I wonder if anyone in Hull knows about this. As Locke considers this, he hears the high-pitched voice add, “And the Olivier problem. That should have been resolved by now! Why is she still letting him talk?”
His influence prompted some mages to seek army enlistment on their own terms. The first voice says, “If anything, she most likely sees it as free propaganda; she doesn’t have to lift a finger while he’s around.”
“The sway he has on the nobility is something to consider, unfortunately. There are rumors saying he is part of the reason the DeRosiers refuse to be emissaries to Ekkeheart. Did you know their youngest son was a mage?” The deeper voice states. So much information from a small group! Locke considers staying longer, possibly hide behind a wall so he could continue to listen and -
Pain surges through the back of his head, and it takes everything within him not to scream. He looks behind him to see a woman with sleek black hair staring him down, the fan in her hand poised as if she were holding a dagger. “And what do you think you’re doing here! Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop on a conversation! Locke gives a quick bow, knowing full well that if he opens his mouth, he will only be scolded for doing so. The woman stomps her foot as if she were trying to scare away a bird and barks, “Go home to your master, wherever they may be. Honestly, noble houses should be better about leaving their servants out in the streets!”
The urge to correct her is strong, but Locke once again holds back his tongue as the women walk away from him. “Should we call the guards on him?” The deeper-voiced woman asks.
The woman who hit him shakes her head. “No, let his employer deal with him. We don’t want to accidentally anger the Bissets, or worse, that terrible Princep in Stern.” Once they have left, Locke lets out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t waste any time heading towards his flat, his face burning with embarrassment, his inner critic eating away at him. That was careless, as much as he hates admitting it. He was lucky the women were more worried about angering someone of higher station; the guards could easily have been called on him.
His thoughts trail back to elven lord again, his regal air enough to keep most from trying to threaten his people. He felt his body sag thinking on how much the elf had done for him. Avgust may have the gold to bail him out, but he also had a reputation to uphold. He’s already paid for Locke’s recklessness five times over two and a half years. If he did so again, it may as well confirm the rumors of the elf’s supposed favoritism.
Locke’s mind wanders to when the pair had first met - when his previous employer, Laurence Cequois, found out he was eavesdropping on important meetings and selling the information to the other servants. Most would have punished him. Luckily for Locke, this nobleman had other plans. Instead, he ordered Locke to find information on a very prominent figure in the Stern. A single elf who allegedly restructured the workings of the district in a year.
“You can only make such progress by becoming acquainted with some…nefarious individuals,” Laurence had said. Find out how he did it.” Locke assumed this was a simple enough task. Oh, how wrong he was. Not only did it prove to be more difficult, he got caught doing it. He expected to be executed. No one sneaks into a nobleman’s room and lives. Especially when it is assumed you’re an assassin.
He reminisces seeing the elven lord up close – Avgust’s scarlet robe flowed behind him, his thick white curls cascading down his back. But the one thing Locke remembered most was how the Princep’s striking silver eyes pierced into his soul. The sparks bouncing off the elf’s fingers made Locke believe he was about to be incinerated on the spot. However, life, it seemed, had another plan. Despite everything that had transpired, Avgust offered him a deal - Locke would work for him, and he would ensure Laurence Cequois to be held accountable for attempting to assassinate him. “What? But…but why?” he had asked.
“You’re intriguing. That, and you know how to stay hidden while gathering information. Not just anyone would have pinned me as the Princep with a single glance. I can’t risk being on the wrong side of your tongue again.” Avgust stated and burned the papers recounting Locke’s crimes in front of him. Back then, Locke believed this an act of mercy. Now, however, he knew his cage had shifted from being rusted to a gilded one instead. And yet, the sight of the Princep brought a strange sort of comfort. The thought of Avgust’s hands on his as their eyes met conjures a strange feeling in his stomach. One that he wished didn’t exist. Shaking his head, Locke casts his eyes towards the Hull District. Did he feel like heading home? He takes a step towards it when the question Avgust had asked makes itself known -
“Any thoughts as to why she is doing this, Nerium?”
A question like that means Avgust wants answers sooner rather than later. Even though he had provided one, he had a feeling it wasn’t enough; Avst won’t be satisfied for long. Locke recalls what the women said about the dwarven soldiers. With this in mind, he considers the mage draft is merely a precaution. Then again, no one truly knew Genevieve’s mind. He wonders if there were any signs he had missed from what he had gathered over the past several months. A low groan rumbles in his throat as he passes through his home district. He didn’t just need new information - he needed dwarven information.
Luckily, Locke knew exactly where to find it.