Chapter 378

Alain Beaumon of the Time Turbulence stretched his legs out against a tree, his arms folded behind his russet brown hair, his small tophat tilted forward so that the brim shielded his eyes from the sun. A little straw of wheat rolled back and forth with his shifting jaw. "The Captain isn't much of a leader for us to go to all this trouble for him… but then again?"

"Then again?" Cedran asked while wiping the enchanted white cloth over the shield in his lap, a regular but needless routine, the enchanted equipment would get rid of dust on its own… but still he wiped it down with an enchanted cloth that would have made any smith drool over its ability to polish with minimal effort. His tree trunk-like muscles were tense, and his intense focus on his equipment belied his discomfort with their surroundings.

"Then again, that's what I like about'im, you know?" Alain plucked the straw from his mouth and rolled it between his fingers.

"You're weird." Quaiesse said, floating down from above as gently as a feather. "Nothing around us, at least not that I can see." He added and ran a hand through his short golden hair.

"Well, think about it." Alain twirled a finger through the long strand of brown hair that hung past his shoulder, his green eyes sparkled with the warning of impending humor. "I'm comfortable right here, right now it's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, all is right with the world-"

"Except for the traitor to humanity holding our captain prisoner." Beaumarchais of the Divine Chain added, his hand twirled a handspan of his long chain, his dark eyes searching elsewhere despite Quaiesse's insistence that they were alone on the open grassy plain before the Demalbion border.

"Right, that," Alain acknowledged, "but, like, nobody nowhere has got to tell me to just sit back and enjoy this, right? Just the cool breeze and a few good friends and-"

"A lethally dangerous mission against a monster strong enough to beat Cenna and keep him prisoner… oh yes, it's oh-so-marvelous." Corwin Amber, the Strongest Human, laid the sarcasm on thick and drummed his fingers on the blade of his giant ax.

Alain pursed his lips and cleared his throat, "And the constant tendency of my comrades to interrupt my thoughts." He retorted, then went on saying, "-and a good meal to go with it." He gestured to the bowl holding the remnants of the rabbit stew made by Tenjho, who still worked the spit while they waited for the others to rejoin the group. "But now here we are, about to go and risk our lives… it's fine for the Captain," Alain hastened to add and put his left hand on the swirl patterned rapier that lay at his side, "but they ask us to do all these wild things all the time… it seems to me that 'leadership' is just a way of getting people to do shitty things that you'd never waste your time or risk your life on unless somebody got you to do it."

"Inspiring." Tenjho grunted. He stopped stirring long enough to look over at the lazing Alain, "You're saying leadership is shit?"

"No. I'm just saying it gets you into shit and maybe the whole damn world would be better off with fewer leaders and more R&R." Alain retorted.

"And you are the one in charge?" Sasala asked, tapping his staff on the ground while he walked toward Tenjho and extended his now empty bowl. "How did that happen?"

"Because I know Cenna better than anyone, and our Captain was never one to take stupid chances." Alain retorted, "Besides, our astrologer says that he's going around with only a handful of demihuman guards, he's not being tortured, hell she said he's smiling. If he's in trouble, I'm the Allfather."

"She could be tricked, you know." Sasala of the Mystic Will, the third seat of the Black Scripture, implied. "You could just try to take this more seriously than you are."

Alain dropped the straw from his hand and down to the green grass, his eyes focused intently on the third seat, "I take this very seriously. I'm thinking like the Captain does, trying to get inside his head, why do you think Tenjho here is so willing to take the time to make big meals and is slow to clean up after you slobs? I'm thinking like he thinks, that's how we'll figure out what he's up to."

Every eye of the present Black Scripture seats snapped over to him and then lowered in apology. "Sorry…" Was mumbled from many mouths.

The uncomfortable silence kept anyone from eye contact until Cedran spoke up, "So… do you have any ideas?"

"Well, yeah, actually." Alain answered, "Ignoring the possibility of illusion… since we can always just say it's possible, the Captain could probably easily beat his guards, but he's not. Thousand League Astrologer says that he was laughing, smiling, eating big meals and he's been seen chatting amiably in the company of the traitor of humanity at some of their building projects. He's even been seen dueling high ranking demihumans. None of that should make sense except… if he gave his word he wouldn't try to escape."

"You're joking. Why make a promise like that?" Quaiesse asked and slapped the trunk of a tree, snapping it in half to fall on the ground, his eyes narrowed, "That's sounds a lot like treason."

"Don't be so sensitive, Quaiesse, not everyone is your sister, that's not what I mean." Alain answered and with the oddity of his theory, the scripture seats began to drift toward him to hear him out. "What I mean is, before the dragonid was… that, she was a soldier, and a damn good one if the intel we got was right. I'm thinking that she beat him and made a deal to make him more comfortable, Cenna gives his word not to run off, and she gives him freedom of movement and plenty of creature comforts. It's the sort of deal a soldier would take, and it's the sort of deal Cenna would take. He's too important to just kill. She probably wants to trade him for some concessions or to embarrass the Cardinals or the Pontifex Maximus… what I'm saying is…"

"That this is a great big waste of time, that we're sent out to risk our lives for the Captain, when he's in no danger… that the only real danger is to the reputations of the idiots who sent him out there alone against something he couldn't beat." Loren of the Long Lance, sixth seat of the Black, finished the sentence and stabbed the tip of his weapon into the grass. "Sonofabitch…"

"Yup." Alain added to the consternation of his comrades. "We're going out to risk our lives for someone who is in no real danger, to die for the stupid decisions of fuckalls. That's what I'm saying, and knowing Cenna… he figured it out pretty much the same. So?" Alain waved a hand toward the pot. "Finish off the stew and take your time, the border will still be there tomorrow, the Captain will still be fine tomorrow, and we can still throw our lives away tomorrow if it comes down to it. What's one more big meal but a little more enjoyment before we get caught up in all that leadership we're always hearing about." He snorted with disgust, then stretched out his arms, picked up the dropped bit of straw and began to chew on it again while the rest of the camp finally, visibly relaxed a little.

Emperor Unglaus and his Empress stood outside the monastery door, the wisest monk in the empire waited within. "Do you think he'll see us today?" Zesshi asked. Her hand closed into his, though she didn't squeeze, while Brain was far stronger than he'd ever been in the past, it wasn't unknown to her that his victory over her in the arena had been determined by the aid of a God, and so she was gentle in the way she held him in her grip.

Brain however, didn't hesitate to squeeze her hand, the walls of the monastery could be easily breached if he chose to use force, and if he wanted, the wise monk could have been dragged out and carried bodily to Arwintar to be thrown down at the feet of the Emperor and Empress… but such a use of his power set the Emperor on edge.

The monk's insistence on answering only by letters, acting only as an advisor to anyone and everyone who asked, was also bizarre. "I don't know… but we've come every year since we took the throne… it's been a very nice holiday every time, and I haven't minded that much." Brain said and turned an eye toward Princess Layali, she was clad in silks gifted by the Allfather of the Empire of Nazarick, bright greens and blues in ruffled patterns, and enchanted against all manner of harm… but it came with one other feature, a little blue ribbon that bound her hair close to her head… attracted butterflies.

They batted their wings around her, alighted on her hand, her cheek, her hair, all she had to do was stay still and their brilliant colors would shroud her like a second set of clothes. Her shining face and bright eyes, together with her gentle and giving nature, made her a popular princess in Arwintar, and the affinity for butterflies seemed to only add to her enchanting mystique.

So it barely bothered Brain or Zesshi that the scholarly monk whose letters often guided imperial policy behind the scenes, refused to meet anyone face to face to give advice.

It was just one more mystery.

"I couldn't agree more, but I can't help but feel a little affronted." Zesshi answered while they waited for the wide wooden gate of the monastery to open for them again.

Brain inched a little closer to his wife's side, 'I can't help but think that before all the things with us happened, she'd have just broken down the walls and called it a day… at least she's mellowed a little with time.' He thought and squeezed her hand a little tighter.

"I'm sure it's not personal, remember he's refused to meet with anyone. It's not about you, and it's not about what you are." Brain promised her with a whisper that caused her half elven ears to twitch a little when his warm breath caressed her skin.

The gate finally groaned its way open and the royals and their escort strode within. The brown robes of the monks hung loose around their hands, their hoods were down and they bowed deeply to the Emperor, his wife, and the Princess.

The bows held until the gates closed again, and the serious faces of the aged grandfatherly monks broke out into smiles as Layali made herself the ambassador of the royal family. "Hi uncle eyebrows! Hello uncle Long Nose!" Her childish innocence and familial pet names for the old men resorted in a sea of smiles, her utter sincerity in her affections made her almost like a mascot in their eyes. Having no children or grandchildren of their own, the Princess wormed her way into a void in their collective hearts that many denied existed until it was filled.

"My Emperor, Empress… welcome, welcome." The abbot of the monastery said as soon as he emerged, his bushy white eyebrows framed deep blue eyes that still sparkled with intelligence, his frail arms were wide apart and revealed the blotchy skin common to old men. He hadn't the ability to kneel much any longer, but his words spoke for him. Unlike the others, he wore a pure white robe passed down for centuries from the first Emperor of the Baharuth Empire.

"And of course, welcome to you, Princess Layali," he said with an indulgent pearl white smile when the little Princess pursed her lips up at him and showed him the side of her face to let him kiss her cheek. "Welcome, that's a wonderful outfit you're wearing, you look beautiful."

Layali brushed her hands down the dress to smooth out its ruffles for a moment to show the little sparkly bits hidden except when one walked just right and it caught the light. "It's a gift from Lord Demiurge of Nazarick, picked out by the maids as a reward. They always give me nice stuff to show they're glad I help them with things."

"I see, so are you their ambassador then… that's good training for a Princess, when you're the Empress one day, you'll have to deal with many different peoples… the Empire will be lucky to have so well-trained a ruler in command." The abbot said, and Layali put a forefinger to her dimple before she looked away in thought.

"I guess it's kind of like being an ambassador, I just help them with things only I can do, and they say thank you with nice things afterward that are good for me and good for papa and mama's Empire. Didja like the Lotso fruit we got? That was me." She beamed when his mouth dropped open and he looked at the Emperor and Empress.

"It's true." Zesshi said, "We mentioned an interest in growing some since those big red things are so," she licked her lips, "juicy and filling, and good for a cough too, she goes over, and when she comes back, it's a signed treaty agreeing to hybridize some just in our land for the next five years with cheap deals for the peasants for the next eight. I guess the Allfather has a thing for making small children happy."

"Remarkable." He said and scratched his bald head, his wrinkled face lit up, "It's usually a bit of a strain on the conscience to say the next ruler is really talented, but I'm glad to know I don't have to lie about it now. The Scholar, he has a saying about this…" The abbot cleared his throat and did his best to imitate his fellow monk…

"Empires rise because of talent, but not every son is as good as his father, and when empire's fall, it is because of those inevitable lapses of talent, the inescapable problem of inherited rule, that goes on from one generation to the next." The abbot said and then scratched his cheek, his face flushed a little red, "Not to say anything negative about your Majesties, of course. It's just something he said about the Empire's history. You can always trace a collapse to an idiot unfit for his job."

Brain rubbed the lobe of his left ear between thumb and forefinger, "Well, it sounds true but… I'm no scholar. Just a lucky-" Zesshi interrupted and cleared her throat.

"-very lucky swordsman." Brain finished and his wife smirked a little and tilted her chin up with smug appreciation of his added praise.

"That, My Emperor and Empress, describes the first of all Kings." The abbot said, and then he turned to the side and waved his way toward the gray stone walls that made up their home and place of work, "Now, if it pleases you, I'll take you to the Scholar's door, the Princess can go play if she wishes, we have new horses in…" He dangled out the possibility, and Layali looked up between her parents.

"Yes." The two said, and added again at the same time, "But be careful!"

It was needless, while Layali could be injured, even grievously… as her body evidently rejected death, and healers were always on hand, any problem… wasn't.

Which did nothing to stop either from cautioning her.

"I'll be careful!" She promised, unsure even for herself whether she was lying when she took off at a run toward the stables.