Chapter 11

Training for the men suffered, as I spent my time devoted to plans for the Keeps defence, or (mostly) with my wife, for whom I was developing into quite a doting husband.

I hadn’t fucked with Diane at all this trip but didn’t feel any deprivation at all, in fact I might have been happier without the hourly drainings. Little Ellen (as I still thought of her) continued to blossom in our chambers, finally getting over her initial resistance to try new positions in our bed. She was too shy to truly enjoy the ‘girl on top’, but did fully give herself over to the ‘Bull and the Heifer’ once introduced; daily she would manage to bend over to pick up something or arrange something on the floor while glancing back at me as though daring me to do something about it.

Even the empty headed Hero eventually recognized a change.

“Milord, your lady seems happy” he pointed out one day. Ellen was speaking with Diane about something and giggling. The two of them acting like debutants not the experienced maids they were. I smiled to myself, something that had been happening more and more recently.

“Yours seems to have gotten over her recent problems, but looks happy also.” I replied, gesturing to the Caretaker who was no longer limping every morning. Hero Billy had stopped looking smug at seeing her sore in the morning after that first day, a sign of an increasing connection. The Hero smiled as he watched his woman, these women of Cassandra were easy to smile at.

We had another week at Crossroads before leaving for Chaos. Hero Billy (whom his Caretaker always called William) and the two armsmen Tom and Ben spent a reasonable amount of time with me in the training room. I have to admit, my head wasn’t as solidly into their training as normal; being distracted by Ellen. The three of them barely even spent any time in the Healing Chambers.

Rupert (the only one of the Exchequer’s family to successfully pass the portal) had taken even less time in the training room, his time further divided with daily classes with Caretaker Sharon (who was an exchequer herself, but still called her work ‘Accounting’ and was training the lad in her methods). Sharon reported that he was an enthusiastic student who learned quickly and by the smile on both their faces, he was enthusiastic about all his different labours with her.

It was with some trepidation that I entered the portal to Chaos with four half-trained men, and my wife. All of us had peasants outer clothes but the underclothes of my wife were the fancy high-quality ones of the Crossroads design. (Not that any of the lowborn men here would see them).

Our rescue was a relatively normal one, a Cassandra woman was being kept by an Innkeeper at his home in a costal village. No Bank was in the village, so we had to enter down the coast at another town, this one a harbour called Little River. My initial thought was that we might either hire a boat or purchase horses. Either way, the trip would take three or four weeks. More than enough time to further the training of the men.

I had been expecting to be all crammed into the small vault, even when there had only been only my Father, Uncle, and I in those rooms it had been uncomfortable. Appearing in a large meeting room without being shoulder to shoulder with other men was a wonderful boon, I’d have to tell my Uncle that the difference of three Shells per year was definitely worth it. The real value would be at the end of the adventure, having some space from these men should be nice as they would be ‘ripe’ after the few months here.

I pushed the lid open on the large box in the middle of the room and reached into it, pulling out small and large crossbows, blades, bows, saddles and armour along with simple bedrolls and travelling equipment. The gear was as ‘pristine’ as when we had last out it in, but all the little bugs and beasties on blankets and ground rolls would look like they had been crushed by an invisible hand.

“We might need all of what’s in this box, but let’s leave the saddles behind for the time being. I would prefer to take a coaster to the town where Damsel Gwen Dean is being held. We may have to pay for passage, or we may work for our travel.” None of those four with me looked very pleased about the prospect of taking to the water but Ellen. Her family was involved in trade by sea, and she was familiar with shipping and passage though I cannot imagine that she had ever done it herself.

With this group being smaller, everyone was well armed and armoured before my box was empty. Little Ellen ended up carrying two light blades besides the normal eating/utility knife that all people carried on a belt on their tunic. Two short bows were rolled up in blankets and strapped to the top of packs. All four men carried crossbows of one sort or another.

The attendant of the bank was surprised at my initial exit, then very worried looking as further heavily armed men exited the office. I walked up silently and placed my finger in the hole at the front of the desk, waiting for the pinprick feeling I knew from experience would come. After the initial pain had passed, I withdrew my finger, being careful not to look at it as many inexperienced men would have. “I would like to know my account balance.” I asked in a straightforward tone, having learned that term from Caretaker Sharon.

“This account is one you share with another, it contains Forty and Eight Shells, Ten and Three Quads, and three Pinches.” The slight man replied after glancing down at something only he could see. It was an amazingly large sum since there had been less than a quarter of that when I last checked. I might possibly be able to buy a boat for this adventure.

“I see, Forty Eight Shells, Thirteen Quads and Three Pinches.” I replied, eager (for some reason) to try out more of my new vocabulary and lessons bestowed upon me by the buxom accountant. If the small man behind the desk was at all impressed at me using these terms, he didn’t show it.

“Yes Sir, and you have four other accounts shared with others as well as the singular personal account. Would you like those balances also?” He asked in the same courteous tone. I waved Rupert over.

“The two of you go over them, he can look at the amounts but he isn’t to take anything out. Rupert, get a handle on how much we have to work with here, and if you can, attach a title or name associated with each account.” I made it an order, but a polite one. My father had always treated the exchequer with civility.