Standing in Stenson’s tent, Francis wondered why the man lived like this, as nothing was special or gaudy.
He’s the general yet doesn’t have anything cool. How does someone in his position have so little?
Even the armor on different stands was functional and didn’t look different from that of most of the guards. The table was covered in maps, and the two bookshelves were stuffed to the gills with leather-bound journals, rolled-up parchments, and books. A small, neatly made bed sat off to the side.
“You don’t seem impressed,” Stenson said.
“Forgive me,” Francis replied. “I guess I had expected someone of your rank to have… more stuff?”
Vella chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t come to my tent, then. There is even less.”
“How about he never goes to your tent,” her father growled. “Now, I have food coming, and if you give me a moment, I will clear a space.”
When Francis went to the books, he studied the covers, not recognizing some of the languages and barely comprehending what he was looking at.
“Are these from other kingdoms?”
“They are,” Stenson answered as he carefully rolled up the maps. “One can learn a lot from our history, but one who truly wishes to understand battle and war must seek wisdom from all sides. You would do well to learn the tactics each kingdom uses and how a simple change in the landscape, elevation, weapon choice, and more will result in a different battle. Knowing your enemy helps you overcome them.”
“And yet, in six months,” Francis said. “You haven’t found a way to do that… which means you still don’t know enough about them.”
A chuckle came from Vella as the general shook his head.
“We do not,” he replied, then glanced over at the open tent flap. “it appears our food has arrived. Sit, your brother should be here soon.”
The guard put down a large tray and pulled a cloth off it, revealing steaming cuts of different meats, bread, some fruit, and vegetables.
Immediately, Francis’s mouth watered as he glanced at Stenson, who grinned and nodded.
“Do not worry about us. Help yourself.”
Francis moved to a chair near the table. The guard who brought in the tray of food produced a plate and some silverware as well.
“What would you like, sir?” the guard asked.
“Something of everything!” Francis exclaimed, smiling.
Without waiting, the man began cutting off strips of meat and piling them before Francis. Once that was done, the guard used tongs that appeared from nowhere to put bread, fruit, and vegetables next to them.
As soon as the plate was complete, Francis dug in, cutting, stuffing, and chewing as much as he could fit in his mouth.
After moaning for just a moment at the spices and quality of the meat, Francis blushed.
“A good meal is essential for growth,” Vella said as she moved across from him, motioning for the guard to make her a plate as well. “Let me know when you see the bonuses.”
He could feel his jaw open, a bit of food almost falling out as the knowledge that there would be a buff for eating came. Francis started eating with even more gusto, taking bites of everything, sometimes nearly choking on the size of what he was attempting to chew.
“If he dies, you’ll be responsible,” Stenson said to Vella as he accepted a plate with just a few things on it. “Relax, Sage Francis. We have time, and soon you’ll understand–”
Francis started choking on the piece of bread he had been trying to swallow when a notification appeared.
[ Bountiful Harvest Buff - +3% gain to all skill learning. Increased chance of stat gains. Fatigue reduced for two days. ]
“Ho… holy shit!” he exclaimed after swallowing the bread. “That’s way better than the food they served in the camp.”
A chuckle escaped the guard who had been serving food.
“I would hope so,” Vella replied. “There is a cook who is infusing each piece of this food with their mana. The cost for them is great, but when one considers the amount of effort it takes to stay awake for days on end and get a single point in a skill, the cost is well worth it.”
Stenson’s attention turned toward the flap, and a few seconds later it opened. Michael was led in, his eyes bulging as he tried to take in the sight before him.
“Francis! What in the–” His brother stopped his outburst. Michael blinked a few times and then his brother’s mouth clamped shut. A second later, he dropped to a knee.
“There is no need for that. I’m not the king,” the general said as he nodded to the guard who had just brought the boy in.
“You… you’re sure?” Michael stuttered.
“Very much. Now, please, join your brother at my table. I’m interested to learn more about the two of you. Something tells me you were not expecting this moment, unlike Francis.”
“I tried to warn him, but he didn’t believe me,” Francis fired back between bites. “Perhaps he might listen to me now. Please, Michael, stop embarrassing yourself and come sit by me.”
Michael’s head moved back and forth between his brother and the other two, finally stopping when the sight of the food on a tray held his attention. Not waiting for another second, he moved quickly, took the chair closest to Francis, and scooted it closer to sit on it.
Tell me, Michael. Were you aware of your brother's skill?” Stenson asked.
“Uh… beyond making my life harder and somehow getting us in trouble?”
Vella snorted, and her left eye narrowed slightly.
“He was not,” Francis said. “I kept it a secret for a lot of reasons, but as you could imagine, if word got out, I’d have every woman in the kingdom trying to bed me as well as nobles trying to find a way to make me work for them. Had I wanted those, I could have proven myself to our father.”
Michael’s mouth started to move, but Francis gently kicked him under the table, causing him to shut it.
“We’ll talk later,” Francis whispered. “Next time, believe what I tell you.”
“You two had better eat faster,” Vella chimed in. “Something tells me our bald friend will be here soon, and you will be required to spend some time before the very people you said you want nothing to do with.”
Her father cleared his throat but said nothing, watching instead as the two brothers ate earnestly.
Less than five minutes later, Nehemiah appeared with a pile of clothes in his hand, flanked by two women that Francis immediately recognized.
“Forgive me, General,” Nehemiah said, “but the king has sent me to bring the kingdom's newest sage to appear before him and the court. Perhaps now you will allow me to take him?”
“I knew it would happen, but remember who you and I are, old friend,” Stenson replied. “You require authority for that action. I”—a small smile crossed Stenson’s face—"do not.”
A bow came from the wrinkled appraiser of skills. “You are correct. Most likely, it was due to being dragged naked out of my bed that made me act in such a disrespectful manner. Tell me, is this his brother?”
“It is, and before you ask, he shall stay under my charge.”
A slight frown appeared as Nehemiah bobbed his head. “A wise move. No better person to keep him safe than you.”
Francis wanted to laugh, watching the two men talk like this, trading backhanded comments and overly unsubtle cheap shots.
“Sage, if you are willing, I would like to take you and these two attendants with me,” Nehemiah said. “You need to be ready to meet the king. After that he will summon us and when he does, we’ll need to go. The King does not like to be kept waiting.”
Taking one last bite of meat, Francis stood and nodded.
“Lead the way. Could you please inform Bella and Lucy that I do not need their assistance at the moment? Perhaps they could be kind enough to show their dedication and commitment to me by helping my brother clean up a little bit.”
Vella began to choke--the drink she had just taken sprayed all over her plate and partially onto the rug.
Right next to her was Michael, choking and gagging on the food. His eyes had been locked on the pair since they’d entered the tent.
Both women looked shocked when they were called by name but did their best to compose themselves.
“It would be our honor,” Bella said. “The bloodline must be powerful indeed.”
Nehemiah scratched his wrinkled head and grimaced, eyes narrowed as he studied Francis. “It… would appear they are willing…”
Pushing his chair in, Francis turned to Stenson and held out his left hand. “Thank you for the conversation and food, General. I look forward to a few more chances to speak.”
“As do I,” replied the older man, releasing the handshake and shaking his head slightly.
Turning, Francis winked at his brother, then strode to where Nehemiah was waiting.
“Thank you again, Bella and Lucy. I look forward to a chance to talk at a later date. Until then, treat him as you would me. He’s the only thing I care about in this life.”
Both women bowed as he strode by, and no matter how hard Francis tried, he couldn’t hide his smile.
***
The looks Francis had received as he moved across the carpet in were different. Gone was the hesitation he’d had the last few times. He had a role to play and was going to give it his best.
“My King and my Queen!” a voice to his left called out. “May I present to you Sage Francis Lancaster!”
Without a care in the world, he moved across the carpet, nodding and smiling softly as he made his way to where he knew to stop.
As if it had been something he had trained for his whole life, Francis came to the exact section of the carpet he knew he wasn’t supposed to go past and bowed deeply.
[ Mental Resist Check Successful ]
[ Mental Resist Skill Increased - 24 ]
“Sage Francis, welcome to my tent. Forgive me for not realizing we had one of your rank in our midst upon your arrival. As you can imagine, none of us would have believed a ninth son possessed your power.”
“No apology needed, my King,” Francis replied, rising from his bow. “I simply want to do what I can to help win this war, and I knew the timing of my arrival must be at this moment. I am sure your ability will verify that what I say is true. What I have shared, and what I will share, will help save over forty thousand lives.”
Murmurs and gasps came from all. The King sat there, eyes widening when nothing happened with the eyes of the wolves on the throne.
“Tell me, are you doing this out of concern for the kingdom, or should I expect some demands of payment for such information? To save that many lives must come with a cost.”
Francis had started to get a feel for Baxter and his actions from the past two times they had interacted.
The way he just said that has to be another question, again testing the limits of my truth in a moment like this.
Queen Auri’s green eyes sparkled as she locked gazes with Francis for a moment, the smallest smile visible as she sat beside her husband.
“What I ask will be small compared to what most might request. I simply want to be trained to be the strongest fighter possible. I know you have an area that assists in training, but I’m already too strong to acquire any more skill gains from it. Any aid you could give in the time we have while this war goes on to help me get stronger will only serve as a way for me to aid the kingdom in the coming days.”
Once again, the wolves' eyes stayed dark, and the room began to grow slightly louder from the whispering of the people behind him.
Grinning, the king stood, his muscular shoulders held back as his chest filled with air. “Finally! Someone who has managed not to lie in our first meeting. Now, everyone out, but our new Sage! The gods must have answered our prayers, and I will not delay in finding out what we must do!”
Some complaints were audible, but no one protested as the guards escorted everyone out.
When only Francis, the king, queen, and a few guards were left, Baxter's red eyes focused on Francis as he moved toward the young man.
“Tell me everything,” the king said.