"25 marks for flogging!" the orator said.
He was pitched up on the platform on the Campgrounds right at the front, where passersby could whisper as they watched him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see those three alphas smirking from below.
Lothar was laid flat, chained to a thick wooden table as the punishment was doled out.
"1! 2! 3! 4! 5!"
The whip cracked the air as the lashes struck his back.
"6! 7! 8! 9! 10!"
He'd been whipped as a young boy. The first ten were doable, but the rest--his shoulders already ached, and he could feel bruises forming.
"11! 12! 13! 14! 15!"
As the fifteenth lash struck, he could feel blood drip from his wounds as the bruises opened up skin.
"16! 17! 18! 19! 20!"
He could barely retain consciousness. Each lash burned through his skin. The pain of a thousand prickles covered in salt numbed him. The pain was beyond description.
"21! 22! 23! 24! 25!"
The punisher unlocked the chains and loosened his bindings, but when he slipped from the table, he fell to his knees.
He could hear the Commander's voice among the noise of the crowd.
"In punishment for abating an omega to hide their designation, you will henceforth be banned from joining the Legionnaires, soldiers, and any form of military ranking permanently."
In his blurry vision, he could hear Marcel pleading with them to let him free as they dragged him off to the relieving servant quarters.
"Please! Don't do this! I was an alpha! I swear it!" Marcel continued to plead as his legs dragged against the sand, but there was no stopping the soldiers. "I didn't do anything wrong!"
Soldiers rushed into the campgrounds then, just as Marcel's voice quieted, and said, "Commander! There's an emergency," whispering the rest in the Commander's ear.
He tried to listen in and only caught the tail-end where the Commander hissed, "... he shouldn't be here. Get rid of him!" as the soldiers rushed off on horseback towards the port.
"And you," the Commander said as he knelt one knee to the ground and glared at him. "You'll leave these Campgrounds and never return. I don't care how you get home. And I don't care to hear your struggles. If I see you in my camp again, I'll have you executed. Understood?"
He nodded as he struggled to move before the Commander stood up and kicked him in the back. The more he tried moving, the Commander kicked him again, until finally his fingers reached the main road and he pulled himself over, outside of the Campgrounds.
Commander Berman spat at the ground and returned into the Campgrounds with the fort gates closing behind him.
He wasn't sure if the emergency was what caused the gates to close or if a rogue soldier, like himself, was. How often were soldiers removed permanently? The thought made him feel small and weak.
"The Commander embarrassed you, didn't he?" a voice said, tinged with a slight accent. "Too bad you can't get at him where it hurts."
He lifted his head with a pained groan and found a man dressed in Zhuong attire, with purple clouds dancing across the painted designs and markings lining his body. The man kneeled and then furrowed his brows as if thinking.
"I need help," he said before the numbed pain spread, the stinging sensation of all the lashes at once hit, and his mind went blank. He heard muffled words in a different voice.
"Leave him--"the voice went quiet, and he could hear nothing but silence.
When he came to, he woke to the comfort of a soft bed and the sounds of water splashing from out the window. He could smell the salt in the seawater and the sounds of a ship at the harbor. His head turned and met eyes with an older omega, hair tied up with dangling crystals and the wrapped robes of Zhuong with a peacock feather fan wafting the air.
"You may call me Yu Ying," the omega stood up with an older woman maid standing behind his shoulder, fanning him with a peacock fan that glittered in the sunlight. "I just saved you from the clutches of Akira Lin. You should count yourself lucky. He does like to keep his debts tight to his chest."
His face paled.
The man he spoke to must've been a member of Akira Lin's "guild".
"How can I repay you?"
"The easiest would be by becoming my messenger, my eyes and ears on the Carolingian Empire, especially on Akira Lin," Yu Ying continued and then smiled. "I will pay you very, very well for such services."
Such words were treasonous for him, but perhaps not out of the mouth of a Zhuong ambassador.
The Carolingian Empire is his people. The omega must've seen his hesitance and scoffed at his reaction.
"You mean to decline?"
"I can't betray my people."
The omega sighed. "They nearly whipped you to death. Tossed you out to die in a foreign empire. All because you have no foothold and no backing, meanwhile, using foreigners like Akira Lin to prop themselves up. Will you be betraying them, or have they already betrayed you?"
"May I ask a favor?"
Yu Ying waved a soothing hand at the now-irate maid, who glared at him, and said, "It depends on the favor."
"I have questions--about the plague and the death of my family."
"You wish to have information?"
"Yes."
"We can try."
He stood up from the bed and kneeled, with his fists tight to his chest, bowing his head. "I will take this seriously. What should I do first? And what is my purpose?"
"I'll send you word soon," Yu Ying wandered out of the room, and the maid left behind a box of trinkets with a strange design.
The maid said, pointedly, "You have missives in here already. Catch up on what needs to be done. We will have a ship to send you back in a few months. In the meantime, bide your time and build your resources. Make yourself useful. Watch the soldiers outside and write down anything peculiar that you hear." With a sniff, she turned around and met her master outside the room. The door slammed behind her.
His head pounded in his skull but when he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, his still shaky hands, knocked the damned thing over.
He found his way downstairs to the bartender, a young omega with braids tied behind his head. he wore the clothing of a Carolingian seafarer, and all its buckles, without tripping on the way. Leaning on his fist, squinting his eyes as he pushed through the headache-blurred vision, he said, "Water."
"That's two coins, sir."
"Two--" he sputtered out. "I don't have any money."
"You do have a tab, though," the bartender smirked and then leaned forward, "I was told you would be the new errand boy for our bar. You'll be paid in food and housing, but not a single coin. You have a problem with that?"
Lothar blinked and replied, "No, not at all. Sir--?"
"Julian," the bartender added, and then began wiping the wooden bar counter and tucked the wooden mugs away, bringing up a mug full of water after, "Sir Julian, or Julian works fine. I already have some work for you. The first thing I need you to do is pick up my shipments from Castillo Reviere."
Lothar chugged the water-filled mug and planned out how the request would be completed. He's heard of Castillo Reviere and knew the man often visited their relieving servants in exchange for the Campgrounds having access to his cottonsilk trees to weave the padded fabric used under their armor. It seemed like an unfair deal in his mind, but perhaps Reviere was more broad-minded than he was.
The shop Reviere worked in was two days out by kajawa and a little less than one by camel or horse, but when Julian turned away to introduce himself to another customer, Lothar figured he would have to walk on foot. Just as he left, he heard the heavy plomp of something hit the counter and turned around.
Julian set a bag full of potatoes, carrots, and dried meats down. In the bag was a goat's stomach full of water.
"I better have the entire shipment," Julian repeated. "7 cases and make sure he loans you a camel."
He thanked the bartender again as he hoisted the bag over his shoulder. It didn't take long after he left the bar for another trial to swing his way.
As he passed two overly recognizable soldiers--Commander Beckett's son and Captain Roy's brother. The two were greatly admired among the recruits. Commander Beckett's son fought against a small rebellion that struck the inner city. Vendors, shopkeepers, and civilians were hurt in the backlash of the Campgrounds requesting a new Commander, and the Empress of Sonhrai agreeing. Saavedra may be long dead, but Beckett Berman's symbol as the future of the Carolingian military had only just begun; even some Sonhrai stubbornly thanked him.
Commander Casas' brother was something else entirely. The soldiers weren't allowed to speculate or discuss how he joined the military after causing tension between the army and the Sonhrai Imperial family. Still, things like that were beyond a simple man like Lothar. But, there were some things he did hear in whispers. The man was trained, as a youth, in an academy primarily for the training of Sonhrai nobility. Enzo Casas' familiarity with the city of Sonhrai was unmatched, as was his ability to gather information. If anyone in the military needed something they couldn't "ask" of their commanding officer, including illegal provisions, like clothing that didn't match their status or rare items from Zhuong, he was the one you got it from.
He tucked his head down as he walked.
They didn't notice him. Both of them were too enthralled by the mess that was going down at the port. His curiosity tugged at him, but as soon as he saw Generals and Captains of all sorts waiting like guards, he knew it was none of his business, and quickened his pace.
The heat bore down on his travel to the nearest village. He felt his wounds burn from sweat while something about his body felt different. His bones felt thicker, his skin a little tougher, and his muscled sinew, pulling underneath his wounds, felt like iron. A few other things felt heavier, thicker, and harder too--he wouldn't think about that now.
No, now, he was reminded of Marcel's cries. He hunched over his pack, and his eyes peered down over the dunes as the sun fell and the moon rose. The cold barrenness of Sonhrai nights overwhelmed him. Alphas were truly blessed, and it was nothing but a curse to be an omega, much like day and night.
When he returned to the docks, he would have to find a way to free Marcel and honor him as his duty required of him.
He slept huddled over his pack.
When he awoke again, he scavenged for food through the sparsely safe plants. Most of it was inedible, but a few of them, like cactus pears and the ashes of usable pits, appeared along his path. He prayed underneath the sun and then continued his trek. Sand stuck to his limbs after what must have been half a day. He could see the village city below the horizon.
When he arrived at the village, he saw that there was a small river connected to their makeshift port. He resisted the urge to start breaking things. Well, at least he had an easier way to get back home. The buildings were made of thick clay and were stacked housing structures built around the earth rather than through it. His ear pulled him to where it was loudest--the market. This was a mercantile center, and he could tell by the extravagant and pompous wearers of furs, golds, clinking metals, and large hats that this wasn't for the regular civilian but for the merchants themselves. This was a place where merchants showed off to other merchants, and he could see the strategic nature in Castillo Reviere's location.
There was a strong sense in this village, as he wandered, when no one turned his way, that they were an insulated group. They didn't mingle with outsiders.
And yet, no one paid him any mind.
Was it a strong sense of security? Had this village never suffered a famine, a disease, or an attack?
Poking around vendors who tossed him dirty look after dirty look when he wouldn't buy anything was worth it in the end when he heard someone whisper, "They're opening a shop in the Zhuong soon. I heard it's a part of the Saavedra's betrothal gift."
"How does a foreigner get so lucky?"
The two merchants lean in as they continue to whisper and Lothar leaned in too.
"The rumors say he's connected with the Mawaddah Clan and that he's the clan's eyes, ears when it comes to changes on the horizon. I heard they're the ones who found his original textiles."
"That philanderer? Well, I guess he's easy to convince. Throw him some money. Get him hitched to a few beautiful and wealthy omegas, who would complain?"
"Not a soul."
Lothar nodded and saw his mission for what it was, finally. His benefactor had given him access to leverage and the opportunity to ask someone whose family was the first to be struck by the plague.
When he reached the shop, it was disconcertingly quiet. The doors were shut, shutters were closed, and he didn't see a worker hauling any items around the shop. What he did find was a few camels hitched by the shop and a rather intricately woven covering for an expensive kajawa. Few people had the wealth to travel in such a thing. Perhaps these wealthy omegas were visiting.
"You don't find the silks drab?"
"I find cottonsilk that isn't yellow, dreary."
"Ari--please, do find yourself in better taste," the man sighed. "We can't be the spouse of someone in textiles without any sense in style."
"Perhaps there needs to be better patterns to choose from than green and orange."
He reached the closed door and pressed his ear against it. The two figures continued to speak, "Sit down. You look heavy enough to break through the ground."
"Hah hah, I never knew the El Mahdy were so hilarious."
"You learn things every day when you start with little knowledge to begin with."
"You--!"
A hand clenched against Lothar's shoulder, pulling him around straight into a dagger against his throat. Dark hair fringed over the cold eyes of Castillo Reviere.
"It seems I need to post more guards around my shop, not just the interior, don't I?"
Lothar quickly shook his head as the dagger tightened against his throat he felt a sting of pain as it cut skin.
"No? Then what are you doing here?" Castillo Reviere hissed with his arm now jammed against Lothar's chest. There was no way for the former soldier to escape.
He wheezed out, "Shipments. Yu Ying. Shipments!"
The other man's eyes tightened before he loosened his grip, holstering his dagger to his side, tucked and hidden beneath the folded robes. "The next time you drop by. Learn to knock. Or even call out. I've never forgotten a face. There won't be a next time."
Lothar agreed and then palmed his throat. Red stained his hand when he pulled it back and looked. He had heard many, many things, but a vicious Castillo Reviere was not one of them. If he wasn't dealing in crooked Guild business, then his name wasn't Lothar.
"Follow me," Castillo Reviere said and then glared when he hesitated. "If you don't want the shipment, I can let Mater Yu handle it."
Lothar blinked.
Was his benefactor of noble lineage?
"I can handle it," he returned with a forced smile. "Is--is Mater Yu related to the royal family?"
Castillo Reviere snapped down his exterior entrance and into the streets of the village. He neither replied nor tried to see if Lothar was still following him. And Lothar took that response as a sign that it was none of his business.
His head dizzied still.
How was it that he went from being in a serious but survivable situation to possibly embroiling himself in the heat of Sonhrai's politics with at least one assassination waiting at the corner? When he ran with the guilds back home, they were harmless. A few of them were thieves, but most of them were carpenters and the poor educated without a way to get a leg up. If they helped a few criminals patch up their ships, it was out of ignorance. They had tried every which way to survive the good way, the way with integrity, as they said. All he knew is that a few days without food was enough to drive anyone mad. He imagined even for someone like Pastor Cordero.
Such a wandering thought tingled in his chest.
The weaver turned wealthy merchant twisted around a corner, a stack of clay houses, and then quick-stepped into a downward stack of clay houses. This area was clean, possibly new, but there was no one in the houses.
"There was a request to broker friendship between here and the Carolingian by offering housing to Carolingian families here," Castillo Reviere scoffed. "As you can imagine, it didn't work out well, but these houses here were already built. And now no one wants to live in them based on their chained memory to failed propositions."
His hand swung out a rather thick, bronze key and when they reached one of the houses, he unlocked the door and gestured him inside.
Within the housing was a makeshift camp, and three heavily armed guards; their spiked pauldrons were iron-made. He tucked close to Castillo Reviere's shoulder as he gestured to two figures wrapped in robes similar to a Sonhrai fitting but also entirely different. The designs, colors, even the angles they were wrapped were a bit odd than he was used to. Some of their dress actually reminded him of home.
The other man began speaking to him in Frankonian and Lothar had forgotten, for a moment, that they were both born from the same land.
"These are the Athari heirs, Yazia and Imran," Castillo pointed out the alpha woman first and then the omega man second. "You will be escorting them to the Portyard Dock, at that point, you will be in direct conflict with Akira Lin--"
"Wait," Lothar broke out in a sweat and added, "I was told I would be out of Akira Lin's range of attack."
Castillo laughed. "When he's made you a mark, you either die by his hand or become a weapon in his other. There's no pleasantries among his men or guild. I don't know how you stumbled upon Yu Ying, but you must have the luck of the gods."
"It doesn't appear that way," Lothar mumbled under his breath and then crossed his arms as he looked the siblings up and down. They appeared to be two things, easily: wealthy and important. And that screamed danger to him. "This looks like a death trap."
They wore battered gold, and much of their skin showed, with little of their robes covering much except their chest and thighs. The alpha woman wore only gold on her head with an eye-shaped amulet on her forehead. In contrast, the omega brother wore the gold covering on every inch of uncovered skin, from his shoulders to his fingers, over his face, and even dangling over his lips down to covering the lower half of his legs over his ankles.
"Do not," Castillo said. "Do not fight Akira Lin directly. His backing is extensive, and he helps fund many of the monarchs and their heirs. That is why Yu Ying is covering for the Athari. I have a boat for you to embark on. Along the way, you will pick up a few stragglers. Ignore them. They're expected."
"I think," Lothar exhaled sharply. "I think there needs to be clarity here. I fight, sir. I don't know what else can be asked of me outside of that."
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
Lothar sighed before he turned to the siblings, who merely glanced over him before turning to each other.
It was going to be a long boat ride.
The heavily armed guards walked them to the port and then bowed as they entered the boat. It wasn't nearly as big as a seafaring boat or a merchant ship, but it was big enough to house four cabins and some Castillo Reviere's actual shipment.
Castillo nodded at the guards as they left the port and leaned in to his shoulder and said, under his breath, "Those stragglers are dangerous. I wouldn't worry about the Athari but the other two, I would suggest avoid speaking to them or dealing with them in any manner. Let them handle my shipments into the city and be the only connection between you."
"And they won't get you--?"
"I have my backing," Castillo ended.
The three of them entered the boat with the other two huddled under cloaks, and a bit of time passed while they sat among the portside cargo, when the so-called stragglers entered the ship. Pinkish skies and grayish clouds above them when the stragglers hitched with every weapon known to mankind, from longsword to shortswords to daggers and handknives. A strip of cloth covered their mouth, nose, and chin, but he could tell by their shape that they were muscular and fit. They didn't glance over them when they entered the ship, and as soon as he saw one of them crane their neck, he dropped his gaze and turned to the Athari siblings.
"Are you hungry?"
The omega snapped, "We have food. We don't need your pity."
"We're fine," the alpha added with a calming hand on her brother's shoulder. "We've been travelling a long while and we're tired."
"I'll take you to your cabin then."
"Much appreciated."
The Athari omega merely huffed.
Lothar could feel the heavy gaze of those two stragglers as they walked up the stairs into the cabins above deck.
He resisted the urge to turn around.