On the road. (2)

They were sweaty by the time the rest of the caravan caught up to them. James didn't leave his horse for a good hour, though he was surprised when Talia had stayed there with him for sometime. It seemed she didn't care what her surbordinates thought of the whole thing.

Rob had sent him a wink, but none of the other mercenaries acknowledged him. He hoped he was wrong, but this was probably the last time he'd ever see Talia in this kind of position. It was sad. He thought there was the slightest chance he could have liked her, a lot. Maybe even—

Once he was ready to move without embarrassing himself entirely, he headed to the carriage and locked himself up in absolute quiet.

'Shit! What just happened? Did I just waste my one chance to go much further?' It wasn't the first time either, and probably wouldn't be the last.

He couldn't think of anything else after lunch. Only about those minutes of bliss, when it'd been only the two of them.

Then the knock came. It was Hansworth. They'd finished to set the camp, he said, and now he'd come like he'd been instructed. James told him to wait for him, and then he changed his attire. It was the kind of distraction he needed. Something he'd been dreading only a few hours before, but now an escape from his whirling mind.

And it was brutal. It was even more so than he'd been picturing it'd be that morning. He wondered if he was maybe punishing himself for some reason or other.

At first he'd told Hansworth to lead him through his own regimen, but it seemed light. In the end he'd been the one to lead the workout, going through some of the beginner exercises a young sportsman would have been subjected to in his old world. Even Hansworth was left reeling. But he'd been charged with making sure his young master didn't give up, so James suffered through the routine of a person more mature than his current body could handle.

At least when the time to get to rest came, he was too tired to think about his exploits from earlier in the day.

Unfortunately, he'd put the idea in Hansworth's mind that working out only in the evening was not effective enough. He was rudely roused before dawn the next morning. He'd looked at Nino and Eno jealously, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Did the work out take all three hours until their caravan started moving again? James was too tired to even care about that. He was asleep right after breakfast. Then he'd woken up to pinch his bow as usual. Then Hansworth had come again at the end of the day.

It was important to give one's muscles time to rest every once in a while. Somehow though, Hansworth was able to convince him that it was his laziness speaking, and he only waited for supper before he let the darkness claim him. He didn't even have a bath that night. Nor the night after.

He did bathe two nights later, because even with a perpetually painful body, sleep had eluded him. At least until he'd freshened up.

By the fourth day, Rob had joined them, and at the end of that day they'd exchanged a few tips on hand to hand combat. James had many more short range fighting techniques than these guys knew, but he tried to hide his experience, pretending to learn from them.

He shot his first arrow on the fifth day. Since his fingers were already accustomed to the string's roughness, he was more or less able to shoot near his target.

By the seventh day, his body was used to the training. The pain was resistible, and he'd got time now to duel on his very confused thoughts.

They were only about three days from the capital, however. And it was about one week to the official ceremony the royal family had organized. It wasn't an important event to James in particular, until it was.

One day from the capital, James was thinking of making the regimen a little bit more complicated. In the morning session, he'd taught Rob a few tricks with the dagger. One of the rare few sessions were he'd shared a bit of what he knew.

He ate breakfast even as they started the last leg of their journey. Then he was touching his bow, notching arrows and not shooting them but getting used to the grip of it.

When he got bored of that, he had still enough energy to read a little. It was the first he'd touched his grimoires in about a week, but he had still more first and second tier spells to master. He dosed off in the process, as usual.

He was woken by someone drumming on his hard wooden door.

"What is it?" he asked, even though he hardly wanted to extricate himself from his covers.

"We've been approached by another caravan, my lord."

Seriously? They were only a few hours from the capital at best. Who would think to approach him at such a time?He was of a mind to ignore decorum in favour of his precious sleep.

"He says his name is Stan Raven."

'Raven! Fuck!'

"Tell him I'm not feeling well. He can ride along with us as long as he will allow me to speak with him in the evening once we make camp."

He agreed. Only, when they made camp, Hansworth was there and he wouldn't allow James even a single second of wasted time.

Stanley was forced to watch a group of men stretch in awkward positions to make their muscles appear more impressive than they were as he waited to speak to the young master.

The sweat and pain, however sweet the pain, had not been enough to create any noteworthy changes in James's physique. Stan Raven stood with hands folded as he watched the three men train.

James had told the fox children to make sure he never saw them train, because he was not ready to have anyone finding out about their plans.

"Stay near me during this conversation," he made sure to tell both Hans and Rob before he left.

Talia was near too when he sat for his dinner. She was one of the five people he trusted the most in his whole party.

"Stay close, during this conversation. Won't you?"

Almost as soon as he'd finished his dinner, there they were. Stan had decided not to approach alone. James had been sharing a half hearted conversation with Eno just then.

The woman he approached with, she seemed older, but innocent. James's political smile was in her direction.

The woman smiled back at him. It was a calculated move, as he'd thought. He had to smell out these people's source, but now was not the time.

"I heard you came through the route of my father's town in Uluth, so I had to speak with you."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"There were rumours of a dragon in Uluth."

"Oh! You mean the rumors of a famous red dragon being spotted rounding Uluth in the last weeks or so?"

"You didn't encounter it then?"

James frowned. "Encounter a rumour?"

Stanley Raven shrugged.

"My father sent my young brother to Uluth to investigate the matter. It seems there is something amiss in the town. The dragon hasn't been there almost a whole two weeks, though."

"Really? I mean the alarm was sounded a couple of times when I was there, but the dragon never showed up. I thought the rumours must have been that."

"Don't be a fool. Why else would the whole town be that quiet?"

"I guess you're right. It makes the least bit of sense to doubt their assertions."

James knew what was coming next. It was like the whole conversation before had been an elaborate rouse to sound him out. He hoped he'd spouted enough nonsense to chase the other noble man off. Of course he hadn't quite made himself sound so stupid.

"Listen, lord Halden—"

"Stop. I have no intention to insert myself in your family issues. I've tried to dissuade you, but you must be desperate."

Stan looked at him in surprise. His escort looked even more surprised. James was resolved, though, not to insert himself in a huge political game.

"What are you talking about my lord?" Stan asked innocently.

James snorted. "I know of the power struggle between you and your brother Timothy. Why should I get involved?"

"Because then you'd owe me, the older brother a favour."

"The older brother who for some reason is not favoured to inherit."

"How do you know that?"

James shrugged. "I know a lot of things. If that is all, then perhaps you should leave."

"Wait!"

It was the escort who'd spoken this time. James turned to her calmly, not saying anything, but letting his face communicate his impatience.

"I'm guessing you don't know who I am."

James smiled lupinely, making sure to scan her body from top to bottom.

"Don't I?"

The woman shrugged. "I used to be important once, but that was before I joined lord Stan. It would be strange if you somehow know of me."

"Oh?" James's lips spread wider.

"I'll offer you a blank cheque."

"What?"

"Whatever favour you ask of us in the future, we'll grant," the woman promised.

"Hey. Wait a second. You realise this means you guys are practically selling yourselves as slaves to my every whim?"

The woman only shrugged. The man next to her wore a look of absolute resolve.