One Too Late
#8 of The World Over
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Before you get mad at me for taking so long... actually I have no real excuses except that I'm in school and when I'm in school, school comes first... so... yeah...
Anyway, I hope you can enjoy my double whamie. Be warned, it is my first attempt at writing anything at all with a kind of mystery twist to it, so please bear with me. Constructive criticism would be great here.
And no, no sex. I promise that there will be after this story arc. Oh yes... much sex. XD
And without further adieu, here's Chapter 8: One Two Late, Part 1 of 2 to be continued in Chapter 9.
Thanks for reading.
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Chapter 8
One Too Late
A man, a human man, tore through marble hallways. His finely laced tunic bounced up and down with each step. He was heaving in exhaustion when he broke into the throne room.
"Y-your Majesty!" he yelled.
A man, tall, lean, handsome, who was obviously distributing attention between two other dignitaries, swivelled his head just enough to view the disturbance.
"What is it? Can you not see I'm busy?' said the figure in the throne.
"He's gone sire! The Baron! He's been kidnapped!"
The King's attention snapped to the exhausted page, who proceeded to bow in submission.
Sailing into sight of Girard was a house sized desert hover.
Made almost completely out of wood, it was sturdier than it looked. On the top deck there were two chairs facing the rear, a small cabin with stairs leading down to the lower decks, and a crow's nest, attached to a long, thick pole in the centre. It stuck out like a patch of grass might from under the snow. In the crow's nest sat a panthress, about 18 years of age, of normal height and build, and sporting well-proportioned curves. Her name was Sara.
In the lower decks, Varian, a male wolf-like human, sat talking with their resident thief, Tarim, a vixen. Miria, an 11-foot tall lioness was checking things in the engine room.
Then there was a scream, almost a wailing of sorts, and Tarim was the first to pick it up.
They rushed to the top deck to find Sara yelling and bouncing and pointing in the direction of something on the horizon.
Sara hopped down from the crow's nest and wrapped her arms around Varian's neck, laughing and giggling in excitement. Upon closer inspection from the rest of them, they could faintly make out what exactly she had been pointing at.
It was the port city of Girard!
They made it!
At last!
"We're here! We're here! Varian! We made it! We've crossed the entire continent! It's Girard!" She laughed again and nearly broke into song and dance.
Her excitement was contagious, and collectively the group heaved a sigh of relief. It had been a very long trip from the previous city, and they were all getting a bit restless. Miria simply sighed, without the same enthusiasm as the others. Tarim picked up on this.
"Miria? What's wrong?" she asked, in her cute vixen way.
"Nothing," a tear, then a sniffle, "I'm fine." That seemed to satisfy Tarim, and had Sara noticed at all it would have been enough for her too. Varian on the other hand knew just what that sigh had meant; he kept it a secret though.
When they finally pulled into the city, Miria stopped the hover right on the border and unloaded its cargo. Down came Sara's smaller hover, which she locked against the wall of a building. It seemed though, that when Sara finally retrieved her hover, now able to appreciate their gargantuan mode of transportation, it was time for a farewell.
Miria was the last to hop down from the hove. She took a look at Varian and Sara and bent down on her knees to better look them in the eyes.
"Sara... Varian..." she paused to wipe a tear from her eye, then continued, "It's been my pleasure to travel with you both. I'm glad I met you two. You've been kinder to me than anyone I've ever known. Yes, even you Sara. I just... wanted to... to say..." She sniffled.
"What are you talking about Miria?" asked Sara, unsure of her meaning. She had grown used to the idea of travelling with Miria.
"This is goodbye, darling. My travels with you end here, in Girard." Miria made one last grand gesture and hugged Sara as tightly as she could. "It's been fun Sara, with you and Varian. I'll miss you both."
It was sinking in now that this was where they parted ways. Sara, beyond herself, found herself hugging Miria back in earnest. Though not shedding a tear, Sara was sad to see this partnership end. "Yes, it was fun... wasn't it?" was all she could say.
Miria then switched to Varian and each exchanged their gratitude to each other, finally ending with Varian giving Miria a goodbye kiss on the cheek and as good a bow as he could muster.
Finally, after one more farewell, Sara and Varian turned away and walked into the bustling urban streets, leaving Miria and Tarim alone.
When they were out of sight, Miria turned to Tarim and patted her on the back.
"Well kiddo, I have a delivery I have to attend to. Come on. You can help me. Once we're done I'll take you home."
Tarim, not liking goodbyes, wiped away a tear and nodded to Miria, who proceeded to lock the cargo hatch.
"So, she's really gone," said Varian.
"Mmm," replied Sara.
"She was a nice woman," said Varian.
"Varian..." said Sara.
"Yes?" he responded.
Without anything to stop her, Sara lunged at Varian face first. Their lips met and locked in such a kiss that it began to draw attention from passers-by. When it was over, all that Sara said was: "I'm happy that you're with me," then faced the world again, grabbed Varian's hand, and pulled him into the marketplace.
To say that Sara was just like any other girl would be a lie... is what Varian would have said had he never seen her shop. She pulled him through almost every store, booth, shop, outlet, dealer's room and trading post in the main district of Girard. The streets were lined with stores carrying worldly clothing, delicate fabrics, exotic foods, precious jewellery, practical travelling items and wares of every shape, size and colour that either of them cold fathom. Sara seemed in her element, though she bought very little, when she was "negotiating" a price. She loved the arguing and the bidding that went on over the table, and, as it turned out, she was shrewder that many of the shopkeepers were prepared for; striking fear into even the avid shoppers that perused the items around her.
Varian felt somewhat out of place beside her that afternoon, but chocked it up to experience. He didn't spoil her fun.
A good deal of time later, when a chill air rushed through the narrow streets, the marketplace began to clear out, and it was suggested that they find the ticketing office to board a ship to cross into the next continent. It was strange though, they hadn't been to the port, granted, but they also hadn't seen a single mast anywhere, or even anything resembling a boat. They suspected that it would be explained later and so collected directions to the ticketing office and were off.
Sara had bought a small, beaded brooch from a booth a few hours before. It hung nicely from a thin chain around her neck and clipped to hold a small cape-like blanket on her back for warmth. Varian thought it looked beautiful on her, but was too shy to say after viewing her haggling over it, a process that took upwards of 10 minutes.
When they finally arrived at the ticketing office, Sara smiled at Varian, who in turn gave her an encouraging glance. They marched up the steps and opened the door.
"We're closed!" yelled a voice from inside. A hand reached out, pushed the two of them into the street, and slammed the door shut.
"Hey! What the hell!" yelled Sara at the door, "What's your problem?"
"Halt!" came a gruff and commanding voice from behind her. She turned to see three guardsmen, on patrol by the looks of it, coming towards them. Varian stood, and one charged at him, holding a sword at his neck.
"You are under arrest, under his Majesty's orders," said the guard in the centre.
"On what grounds?" asked Sara fiercely; having no trouble facing the three uniformed men.
The man in the centre, dressed in a blue military uniform with white trimmings lining the standard areas of the neck, pockets, cuffs and edges of the fabric, turned to Sara on the hells of his tall, polished boots and said simply, in a most forceful way, " You are hereby suspects in the kidnapping of our Baron. Come with us peaceably or we will resort to force."
"Over my dead--"
"Sara," said Varian over the sword at his throat, "Do as they say. It is all right." Then to the captain, as his uniform suggested, "You need not use force, we will come with you."
The captain turned, nodded to his second subordinate, who took position behind Sara, and led them towards Girard's castle, which, in the dimming sunlight, looked much more ferocious that it had upon entry into the city. It seemed awkward in such a busy, exciting place.
Sara and Varian were deposited coldly in a dungeon-like cellar somewhere in the castle and left in the dark to think and to brood.
"How dare they! Who do they think they are?" asked Sara.
"Answers will come eventually. Best to sleep for now. Think of it as a free room for the night," replied Varian, lying down on the damp, stone floor.
"Sleep? How can you sleep? We're in prison!"
"With nothing else to do," he replied.
"Tch. Damn it!" she said violently, hating to admit he was right, again.
Meanwhile, in the castle, every man and woman was busily wandering from place to place delivering messages to one man. The page. Not just any page either; not any more. He, a feline furre, had been bumped up to a rank so that even the captain of the guard reported to him. As much a the page-turned-chief-investigator liked the title, the amount of work going into, and out of, his office was staggering, and a little overwhelming when the captain, hard laced and tightly strung, would come to brief him on the current findings. All because he, the page, had been the one to find the Baron missing. The feline sighed and another stack of papers was dropped on his desk.
Had it been anyone else staging an interruption, the chief investigator would have been relieved. Unfortunately he was doomed to hear another briefing by the captain, who seemed not only pleased to find the smaller feline disliking his new appointment, but revelled in it.
"Sir," said that captain, wincing at his formalities to this page, someone he would have had no trouble scoffing at every opportunity otherwise, "I have come with my updated report."
"Good news by now captain? I'm beginning to lose faith in your men," replied the page. The one thing he loved doing however was playing with the captain, who couldn't lay a hand on his superior without severe repercussions. The inspector abused this fact.
The captain went right on with his report. "Unfortunately, sir, we have turned up no trace of our Baron, however, he have picked up two suspicious characters that we suspect in the crime."
"Where are they now?"
"We have them in custody. They are locked up in the jail, sir. We felt that they were too dangerous to leave roaming around."
"Quite right. Where did you find them?"
"By the ticketing office. There was a small scuffle."
"Scuffle?"
"A door slammed shut sir. It drew our attention."
The page looked at the captain as though he were crazy.
"You arrested two civilians for slamming a door?"
The captain looked a little worried. The investigator had the authority to punish his subordinates.
"Well, no, sir. The door was slammed on them."
The small feline sighed, rubbing the small brown patch on his forehead.
"There are laws against wrongful imprisonment in Girard, Captain, you of all people must be aware of this. Bring them to me. I will be their interrogator. If I find that they are innocent, they will be let free; you will be punished for your carelessness. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," said the captain, performing a salute and turning for the door.
"And Captain. They are too be treated gently."
The captain didn't stop, but continued down a long corridor to the jails.
Metal doors screamed on their hinges, rousing two tired, one of them exceptionally angry, furres from a light rest. The captain, decked out in his blue uniform, stepped in. casting a deep shadow into the dank room.
Sara and Varian watched in silence.
"The chief investigator wishes to speak with you. Follow me." And with that the captain left the room.
Sara helped Varian to his feet and carried him, leaning on her shoulders, down the hallway. The guards had relieved him of his cane, so this was the only way for him to walk.
After several minutes, they were again deposited in a small, lonely room. This one was far nicer though. Cluttered, but somehow friendlier. There were small decorative lamps adorning the walls, which were draped also with fine tapestries. In the middle of the room was a desk piled with papers, lit with a three-pronged candleholder and behind that a simple, wooden chair.
From a door at the back entered a small feline figure carrying a stack of papers, which he unceremoniously dropped on the table.
"Sir I--"
"I can see that. Dismissed," said the inspector hastily.
Almost as hastily as the captain removed himself.
The feline sat himself down and waited for the door to close before he began speaking.
"Allow me to apologize on the Captain's behalf. He is rather... excited about his work."
Varian and Sara remained silent.
"Yes, well, first of all, I am the chief investigator here. You may call me Hans. Please, what are your names?"
The two suspects looked at each other, then nodded. Varian spoke first.
"I am Varian. This is Sara."
"And you were arrested for having a door slammed in your faces at the ticketing office, correct?"
Varian nodded, "Yes." He knew that Sara was just about ready to explode, so he took the role of speaker for now.
"Have you been in Girard long?"
"Since around noon."
"Today?" asked Hans, surprised.
"Yes."
The feline sighed. "You have my sincerest apologies for your imprisonment Sara, Varian. The Captain will be reprimanded for his carelessness."
"What's going on?" asked Varian curiously, changing the subject. Hans, having spent his life around liars was convinced of their honesty and so obliged to tell them.
"Well, you see, one of our dignitaries, the baron in charge of overseeing transportation across the divide, was kidnapped yesterday. I am his page; now the investigator of his disappearance because it was I who reported him missing. This is why we are so frantic here. He is the only one with enough knowledge of the shipping routes to have the authority to send ships out from this port. Without him, our docks have come to a standstill."
Sara's eyes widened.
"You mean that there's no way to the next continent without the Baron?" she asked.
"Correct," replied Hans.
"Well that's just great!" yelled Sara, "So even if we did buy a ticket there'd be no boat! What do we do now?"
"If we are able to find the Baron, will the ships sail again?" asked Varian.
"Yes, they would start immediately."
"Then would you accept our help?"
"What? Hey Varian, I don't want to get involved in this!"
Varian raised his hand to silence her.
"In exchange for free passage to the neighbouring continent?" said Varian.
The page had to think for a moment. "Well, do you have any experience?"
"I am an expert interrogator and Sara is a wonderful negotiator."
The page took another moment to decide. "The position's yours. Here is the Baron's symbol. Show that to anyone in the palace and you will have access to all of the facilities, including manpower. I will have rooms made up for you and a meal sent up in an hour. You begin tomorrow morning. Do we have an agreement?"
Varian and Sara shook his hand and were led off by a chambermaid to two spare bedrooms in the castle.