Nations on the Brink (storyline)/Outside Sunholm (vignette)

Outside Sunholm

Odelgarde thanked the various squires, men and women-at-arms, and knights that were waving farewell to her as she and her some contingent left Sunholm. In their midst was one Niatha, the instigator of diseases, plagues, and death since this time last year.

For her part, the red-haired woman held her head high and simply smirked at any that would make eye contact with her.

Jarnsaixa had personally picked this guard of soldiers that were now walking through the Cairnfang Forest. None of them had temple affiliations on either side of the canal, none of them had anyone close to them die due to some action the woman had caused, and none of them had been close to either Grenhal, Sayilla, or Kasendra. They were devoid of an emotional connection. They also were free of debts, so there was little chance that even a wayward coin would sway them one way or another.

Jarnsaixa was not with Odelgarde at this time. She insisted on staying at the keep and monitoring those guardsmen that were left behind and doing everything she could to make sure that some hidden agenda was not being run there. Much as the Magister had whispered last night, and several of the Knights, as well, the Steward thought the capture was too easy.

Odelgarde experienced deep regret that there had been one person who had run off with the disease, igniting a morning filled with cries for help that had within hours spread across the globe. They had all tried so hard, but you can’t force a cure on someone or force them to heal against their will. She had, however, been encouraged by the extreme outpouring of community that had been shown across the western side of the continent. People quarantining themselves until someone could cure them, others working diligently to bring materials to those that could build the cure. She felt a sense of pride at the work being done. Athalia was deeply moved that Mayor Talliver sent supplies from Icemule Trace, and that the Tehir had also sent a cart with wares. It was this sense of community, unity, and partnership that Athalia had been striving for and this outpouring even the cries of decent from the frontier had briefly been drowned out.

As the troop moved across the bridge towards the docks, Odelgarde watched as the soldiers around her kept their heads high, their eyes focused ahead, but their arms at the ready. There were good people in Vornavis. There were good people in the world.

Kimrella hailed them from the railings, the sailors behind her working to get the vessel ready to launch.

“Well met, Odelgarde,” She called down.

The magister noted that the captain was wearing a jewelry item that had several cabochon bloodstones in it. The cure was getting out there.

“This is where we part, Captain,” she said to the newly risen guardsmen before her. He saluted her and smiled. He would see the prisoner brought to the Ta’Vaalor ports and then transported to Ta’Illistim. The House of Malwind had generously offered to let Niatha stand trial there before answering for the death of their beloved Grenhal. Odelgarde hoped that it would be enough.

Niatha walked up the plank, the brig her home while at sea, and looked over her shoulder at Odelgarde. Her smirk would haunt the young Magister for years to come.