The Chosen Read online

She was well versed in appropriate and polite interactions and what was expected of gentleman and a lady. He was no gentleman. He was curt with everyone he interacted with and his interest in females was non-existent. Her polite gestures and persuasive manners were irrelevant. He seemed displeased when he saw the parchment before him containing her plea for an audience.

  She sat nervously in one of the pews hoping he wouldn’t see her. He glanced up and started scanning the room. His eyes burning their way through everyone he encountered. She could see he was looking for her and she felt a knot in her throat.

  “Lady Marfell, gracing us once again with your presence. Do you not have a hobby or some other mundane task to do?” he called out loudly.

  His voice echoed around. There were low conversations all around, most seemed to ignore his remarks, since he was like this with everyone. She swallowed hard and stood up carefully smoothing out her dress. The lacing and detailed in the brocade were perfectly and flawlessly stitched. The bodice was tightly wrapped around her small frame and the corset underneath was tied as tight as it could be, yet it still felt loose given how tiny she was.

  Her blond hair was pinned up in perfect braids and formed curls lay flawlessly down either side of her small narrow face. She had prepared herself, like she always did, to be presentable. Appearances were important in the upper-class.

  She gracefully made her way up to the platform and gave a slight curtsy, lowering her head.

  “Chairman Hargrave, thank you for allowing me to be called to present.” her soft tiny voice was almost lost to the conversations droning around the room.

  “I have not called you to present Lady Marfell. You have already been called to present. Your plea was heard by The Crown and you were given your answer.”

  She felt her face flush red.

  “But Chairman, my brother…”

  “Your brother has disappeared, but you have no proof he was taken by anyone. Have you received a ransom request? Was anything taken from your estate? Were there signs of a struggle?”

  She stood feeling flustered. Her eyes were starting to water.

  “No Sir, but I…”

  “You have presented information to The Crown that your brother was taken, against his will from your home, yet you have no evidence or proof of this. One might say you have presented falsified information.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as her cheeks burned hot. She could feel her brow starting to sweat.

  “It is not falsified!” she protested.

  “Falsified or fabricated, either way Lady Marfell, you have nothing to back your claim and therefore, The Crown has no obligation to assist you. Return to your home and do not waste The Crowns time anymore. Be thankful I am not charging you with falsification of a report. If you return here for this matter again, you will be spending the night in the city prison.”

  She felt her throat close up as tears slipped out of her eyes. She said nothing. He scribbled something on the parchment she had turned in and he flipped it into a pile to his side, turning his attention to the next matter.

  She looked around, no one was even looking or listening. No one cared. She felt so alone. She quickly left the building and made her way back outside. She felt herself gasping for air as her emotions took over and she slumped down on the marble steps crying. She sat for several moments as she composed herself.

  She looked up and out into the bay. The bright blue water sparkled back as the sun danced on the waves. There were many boats in the harbor with crisp white sails flapping in the wind. She thought of her parents. She wished they were still alive. Her father would have known what to do.

  The clicking of horse drawn carriages echoed upwards towards her and she moved her gaze around the city. From the Royal Commons she could see everything. It was perched high up overlooking the bay. To her left she could see the beautiful manicured estates of The Springs. Her house was not in view but they were all the same. Each one a small castle in its own, with servants and guards and stables.

  To her right as the city sloped downward the smaller structures and buildings piled on top of each other into The Thumb. She swore she would never go back there but now she wasn’t so sure. She had no other place to look for help. She wasn’t even sure how to find a sell sword. The large frightening man she encountered the other night terrified her to her core. She hoped he wouldn’t show up at her door, but he looked stronger than anyone she had ever met so she had approached him.

  She was lost and alone. Although she didn’t know where she would find help, she knew she needed someone.

  Chapter 4

  Leif, Gorm and Revna retreated far from Harold Karman’s house. That was one situation that they wouldn’t be able to resolve right now. They did return to the pub they attended and paid to replace the broken windows, table and chairs. The owner was grateful and stated they would be stocking up on more peanuts to avoid the confrontation that happened due to the lack of them the other night.

  They left and started to head towards the center of Crown Bay, where The Royal Commons was.

  “The funny thing is, I’m not a big fan of peanuts.” Leif said with a slight chuckle.

  “You seemed quite agitated last night when they didn’t have any.” Revna said shaking her head.

  “Where are we heading anyways?” Gorm asked looking around.

  They generally spent their time in The Thumb, but had been all over Crown Bay with missions when they were working for The Crown. They even ventured out into further parts of Suloo, including Vanguard, where Gorm was from.

  “We have that lead on a potential job. I want to check it out.”

  Leif looked around as they approached The Royal Commons. He paused a moment looking out at the bay. The wind kicked up his brown hair as his scruffy appearance suddenly felt out of place in this area. Gorm was even more out of place with his long-braided hair and full barbaric beard covering his face. He shifted his heavy ax and looked around.

  “What’s the address?” he asked, not wanting to linger long in this area.

  Leif looked up and over towards The Springs.

  “A bit further, over there.” he nodded.

  “The Springs?” Revna asked, almost not believing it.

  “Yes, Revna, The Springs. You were the one eager to find us work, this is our opportunity.” Leif smiled.

  His perfect white teeth were the only thing that separated him from the slums in The Thumb. Most had missing teeth that had rotted out from poor care. Leif was raised on the boarder of being a high-class citizen but never really left The Thumb. It was thanks to his father and uncle for creating The Brotherhood and developing its reputation across Suloo.

  “I don’t like being in The Springs. We stick out.” Gorm said glancing around.

  They were still around the Royal Common’s, but even there, the men dressed in tailored dress coats and polished boots and shiny swords that hardly had a taste of blood and dirt.

  “Yes, well, we will make it quick, however; we need to make a good impression on our potential client.” Leif said looking up.

  They stopped and stood before a barber shop. This one was different from those found in The Thumb. It had a beautiful sign out front, painted in black and gold lettering. The door was solid oak, with black hinges and intricate details carved into the wood. It would cost twice as much as well, but the quality would be far better.

  The three entered, Leif excited but Gorm and Revna, more reluctantly than anything.

  “I’m not shaving my beard.” Gorm growled.

  Leif glanced over at the beast of a man. He was towering, lumbering and solid like a tree trunk.

  “They aren’t going to shave it, just trim it up a bit. Make you look more kept. A man that takes care of himself, is a man that can be respected. We need to be respected in order to be trusted.” he gave Gorm a wink.

  Leif looked around and let out a long sigh. “We really need this assignment.” he half whispered.

  Within a moment, a man walk
ed out from the back. He had a crisp white apron on. At first his face was smiling as he rounded the back corner, but when he saw the trio, he paused, looking them over in slight disregard. He swallowed and approached the three.

  “Good morning, what can I help you with today gentlemen?” he asked.

  He glanced up at Revna. She was stunning, but everyone looked past that due to her appearance. She was covered in tight, form-fitted leather of green and red. She looked nothing like the high-class ladies that roamed this area of the city. “I am sorry miss; you will have to wait outside. This is a gentlemen’s shop only.”

  She gave a slight snort. It wasn’t the first time she was kicked out of a place due to her gender. She glanced a Leif.

  “Fine by me.” she muttered as she turned and exited the shop.

  “Sir, as you can see, we are ill prepared to be in these parts of the city. My companion and I were hoping to freshen up a bit, be a little more groomed, so-to-speak.” Leif said with his charming smile.

  The man glanced the two over. They would need more than a haircut to even remotely resemble a well-kept man. Leif could see the man’s hesitation. He quickly pulled out a small pouch of coins and held it up. “We tip quite well.” he added with a smirk.

  The man smiled with a nod.

  “Please, gentlemen, come in and take a seat. I will see what I can do for you.”

  Leif gave Gorm a smile as they removed their belts and jackets. Leif had worked this city long enough to know that money talks. It was the driving factor in most of the dealings he was involved with. While he did not have indispensable funds, especially now that his services with The Crown were cut off, he knew in order to make money, you had to spend it.

  Leif and Gorm were treated to a trim and shave. Gorm was insistent that his long blond beard remained. Without it he would look several years younger and far less intimidating. The barber trimmed the edges and shaved around his face with a straight razor, keeping the lines perfect and groomed.

  His long hair was trimmed slightly, and then braided back, the way he liked it. He did feel better after the process and he stood admiring his appearance in the long mirror the shop had, but he would never tell anyone.

  Leif’s hair was scruffy and fell around his ears. He had it trimmed short around the sides and left a bit on the top. He was given a clean shave as well. When he was finished, his appearance was youthful and presentable. He was already handsome, but now, his striking features were magnified by his clean-shaven face. His chiseled jaw line seemed almost unnatural, as if he were a carved statue made from clay.

  They tipped the man and departed to their next destination. Revna was waiting for them outside.

  “Took you long enough.” she mumbled.

  “Was it worth it?” Leif asked, holding his hands out as he spun around.

  Revna, who almost never cracked a smile, appeared to have a slight smirk edging the corner of her lip up.

  “I will say, you both appear more put together. Much better than the drunken mess you were last night.”

  Leif let out a sigh. Revna wouldn’t let that go for a while. He nodded and they continued deeper into The Springs.

  The streets were much wider and maintained well in these parts. They progressed upwards as the hill rose up on this side of the bay. Every so often they could look down from the tier they were on and see the bay below. The tiny ships with their white sails dotted the area. Across the way was the darker area, engulfed in a permanent shadow. The Thumb always appeared darker, as it sat lower than The Springs.

  It took nearly all day for them to finally reach the address. Leif held the parchment in his hand. It had creases and lines from being folded so many times. He glanced at it and then up at the numbers engraved in the front stone of the property.

  The Marfell Manor was higher up in the tiers of The Springs. Each property was large in size and appeared secluded, but in reality, there were neighboring estates on either side. The front entrance had two stone pillars, one with the carved number, indicating the lot number, the other had the family name and crest.

  “Marfell?” Gorm asked.

  Leif looked at him.

  “You know the name?”

  “Lord Marfell was well known. He frequented Vanguard often, but most of his business was on the Isle of Lode.”

  Both Leif and Revna looked at him surprised.

  “Lode?” Leif asked surprised.

  It was no secret that the island, just south of Crown Bay, was home to many mysterious villages and cities. To the far north was the fortress of Malachite. It sat high up on top of a mountain, nearly impenetrable to outsiders. Even if one could break through its twenty-foot high stone walls, they wouldn’t want to. Inside lived the Malachite Order, the last known existing warlocks. They did not meddle in affairs of The Crown. They were their own entity. They served themselves and often this was at the cost of others.

  To the south along the eastern coast of the island was Thornwood. It was a vast, dense forest. It was where Queen Thornwood of the elven folk lived. While they had a peace treaty with The Crown, and had open trade agreements, they kept to themselves in their secluded wooden city.

  Just past Thornwood towards the southern coast was the city of Carnelia. This was part of The Crown ruling, but none rarely ventured there. The city was nothing more than well-made tents and filled with tribes’ men and woman. They resisted modern technology and advancements, feeling it separated them from nature, and that was their guiding principal.

  The last city, the one on the west coast of the island and the one that faced Crown Bay, was Sard. It wasn’t as grand as Crown Bay or Vanguard, but it was still a sight to behold. Even from the tiered section of The Springs, one could see off on the horizon the dark outline of the island.

  “I assume his dealings were in Sard?” Revna questioned.

  It was important to know where this family had connections. If it was a rescue mission, as Leif was told, they may have enemies.

  “Yes, Sard was where much of his dealings were. In fact, he and Lady Marfell were killed on a trip to Lode to visit Sard.”

  “Killed?” Revna asked skeptical.

  “They say it was a freak storm. As if the sky suddenly closed around them and forced the ship down.”

  The three were silent for a moment. Each thinking the same thought. The Order. While the Malachite Order had been quiet in recent years, in the past they had caused great havoc throughout Suloo. Their fortress sat high up on the mountain and overlooked the northern region of Suloo. The island on this part was close enough that one could see the other easily. The Order, for no apparent reason, other than to display their power and ability, launched an assault on the city of Frisa.

  Frisa, a member of The Crown, was decimated. There were no survivors. It was once a grand castle surrounded by outposts and houses. All that remained now were ruins of that once beautiful city. If one ventured up that far north, they would see the green patches of grass reclaiming the coastline and large carved rock foundations scattered around. Several walls still remained, as if creating a broken, twisting maze of rock.

  Since that attack The Order had remained quiet for the most part. The Crown did not retaliate. After seeing the destruction to Frisa, and knowing Malachite was impenetrable, they would be marching their armies into a death sentence. Attempts were made many times to come to a peace agreement. The Crown sent representatives to negotiate, but for every caravan they sent, none returned. It got to the point where no one was willing to try and speak with them. They were too afraid.

  “Well, at least we have some idea of this family’s roots.” Leif said breaking the silence.

  The three nodded. They walked past the old metal gates that were open. The driveway was long and twisted around perfectly manicured hedges. They came to the first structure, the stables. There was a dozen or so horses, some out meandering in secluded paddocks, others sticking their heads out of the stall doors. There were two beautiful carriages to the side of
the stables. One was open with no roof, the other was enclosed.

  They approached the front entrance of the house, which was another gate. This one was manned. Two guards in similar looking uniforms approached the group uneasy. They were resting their hand, nonchalantly on the hilt of their swords. One approached holding his white gloved hand up.

  “Come no further.” he ordered looking them over. “State your business here.”

  “We are here to speak with Lady Marfell.” Leif said stepping forward.

  “And what business do you have with Lady Marfell?” he asked almost sarcastically.

  Leif glanced back at Gorm who stood shaking his head.

  “She is seeking a sell sword for a rescue mission. We are The Argent Brotherhood. I would like to offer my services to her to complete this assignment.”