Chapter 259: Book Four – Interlude – Part Five – The Captain’s Elegy

“You know, dear… I am enjoying these late-night therapy sessions. They give us a chance to get some nice cuddling in,” Marissa said, rubbing her cheeks against her husband’s chest. It was late at night with a fearful moon. Darkness encompassed all of Canary, and with an eerie summer breeze rushing through the streets, it was nippy.  

Inside the master bedroom, a pair of devoted lovers nestled nakedly underneath the warmth of an oversized blanket. Their feet brushed against each other, eliciting a few giggles as both Marissa and Fisher shared a passionate kiss.  

“Anyway, so what happened with the slaves? Did you have any trouble?” Marissa asked.  

“It turned out that they held no love or affection for their owners. Mire and Tim said it was possible they’d want to work under them, but that wasn’t the case today. And over twenty of the guardsmen became violent with us… And their excuses were all the same.” 

“Did it have to do with the church?” 

“It did. It was always the same line… ‘The church guarantees our right to own them. How dare you try to take away our property?’ When I met up with Tim and Mire, it was the same song and dance. Today… We had to imprison 22 men for raising their weapons against us. Most were just footmen, but we lost a couple mid-rank soldiers…” 

“Darling, were there any injuries?” A soft palm brushed against Fisher’s cheek as a thumb danced around his lips. Marissa soon leaned in and gave him another delightful kiss. Her softness… Her lips stayed on his for a moment longer than necessary, and a pair of tongues lashed out and greeted the other.  

“Mmmph… No, none at all,” Fisher replied. He licked his lips, and his wife rolled over and straddled her husband. Instead of sitting up, she pressed her bountiful chest against his and started to dab his neck with wifely kisses.  

“If I were to ever retire, I’d recommend either of those two to replace me… Tim’s a good man who’s a little rough, and he has the drive. Mire is a competent leader, and I’m honestly thinking about putting her name in for a promotion next year. Ah, I don’t plan on giving my position up, though… Not for at least another thirty years.” He wrapped his hands around her back and brought them to her hips. He gripped her round bottom, squeezing them to his liking.  

He then went on to say that people were calling for his firing or resignation when he brought Cresk in for processing. Marissa stopped her kisses for a moment since she didn’t know who that was.  

“He’s popular with the blacksmiths on Sculpture Avenue. All of his equipment is custom-made from them, so he’s a walking advertisement. Without him showing off their gear, they’re afraid of losing money… And since I imprisoned him… Well, I don’t have the best reputation anymore… Not with them and not with Cresk’s wife. With tears in her eyes, she called me a homewrecker because her husband was their sole source of income. If that’s true for them, it must be true for others. All in all, I ruined four families today…” 

“Darling, if Cresk and the others hadn’t attacked you, they wouldn’t be in prison. Think of this way,” Marissa said, grabbing Fisher's hand and bringing it to her cheeks. “Thanks to you, there are now 75 former slaves that wouldn’t have had their freedom had you not intervened.” 

“I managed to convince the governor to start a small restitution fund. It isn’t enough to cover the abuse and horror, but it’s a start. Since their owners were members of the guard, it was impossible—no, that’s an excuse. Them being under my command should have meant they were under extra scrutiny. A few months ago, if I walked past a slave owned by my men, and he was shouting his innocence… I wouldn’t have given myself the time of day to even think about if he was telling the truth… I’m trying to be a better man, sweetie…” 

“And you’re doing a wonderful job, dear. They say Keyya wasn’t built in a day. What you’re doing? It’s a lingering process. Does the governor plan on verifying every slave in Canary?” 

“He said doing a city-wide inspection will almost certainly lead to riots on accusation of overstepping into the rights given by the church. He only allowed me to check the guards as a test run because it’s a smaller number of people. Blasé confessed his ultimate goal is to ban it outright. He has the city to think about first, though. And the truth of the matter is that slavery and the remaining markets just bring in too much money. Unless we have a way to make up the lost revenue, it’s here to stay. Then we have the lost manpower. Losing those 22 men is going to hurt the force… Especially since we're the weakest we've been in years. Marissa?"

His loving wife had returned to her husband’s side, hugging his scarred arms between her busty chest. He felt the tender beating of her heart as she snuggled even close to her husband. “Yes?” 

“What… I believe what I’m doing is morally justifiable… But what if Canary ends up weakening even more?” 

“Darling, you need to have faith in your work.” 

“Faith?” Fisher spoke that word a few times, allowing it to roll off his lips like a sack of bricks. “In today’s world, it’s easy to say you have it… It’s harder to actually believe it…” 

“I don’t think that’s true at all because you’re my faith. I love you, Fishy.” It’s another sweet moment between the two. Fisher felt the sudden need to embrace his wife. He rolled over as she let loose his captive arm and waited for him to slightly slide down the pillow. With the hug of a loving wife powering her arms, she calmly pressed his head into her waiting breasts. Her warm skin was still slightly flushed from their steamy shower. His arms wrapped around her back, and she adorned the top of his head with proof that she was the only man deserving to be her husband.

Marissa’s hands slipped down his back, coming across violent proof of his war-torn past.  

“Fishy, don’t you think our girls are getting better? They even managed to give you a little boo-boo on your hand.” Marissa changed the subject. She thought it wouldn’t be right to doze off when talking about a heavy subject. Not if she wanted their dreams to be pleasant and fluffy, that is.  

“I do… I’m so proud of our girls… It’s almost time to move past the basic stances and into some practice swings. It does my heart good to see their progression…” 

“Mmnn… And you know, dear… It is a mother’s job to properly reward her hardworking daughters. Maybe I can spoil them a little bit during the festival? That’s the only thing they want to talk about nowadays.”  

 “It’s also a father’s job as well, isn’t it? Sweetie, let’s do our best to make this festival one they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. I’ll try my best to get more than a day or two off, but I can’t make any explicit promises…” 

“Hehe! I’m glad you remembered my words from earlier… Good night, Fishy. I love you,” she said with a kiss to the top of his head.  

“I love you too...” The tired, exhausted husband dabbed his wife’s chest with a kiss or two, then gently closed his overworked eyes.  

---

One week later, it was time for the scheduled meeting with the governor and his secretary. The location and time were the same, with the only difference being a baggy-eyed Fisher drinking a cup of coffee to ease his exhausted body. From the steaming black liquid came a lightly caramelized, almost nutty scent. It was supposed to be strong, but the liquid that flowed down his throat was anything but. Smooth and savory, he almost wondered if there was a mix-up down at the canteen.  

If the governor and his sister weren't here, he would have gone and righted a mistake.  

The topic of this get-together, other than an update about Nicholas, was to discuss how the false enslavement investigation faired. Went right, what went wrong, what sorts of things could be improved were all questions that had to be answered.  

Truthfully? There wasn’t much to it. Perhaps it would have been better to have the guards bring their falsely enslaved slaves to the headquarters for some sort of mass freedom. But with so many people in one place, there were sure to have been more fights. Though unlikely, a riot could have broken out since people were upset the ‘property’ they had paid for was being ripped away without any recompense. Sure, the slaves were given something, but that only served to make their former owners more upset. Even now, Fisher was fielding complaints from the guards who didn’t turn violent that they wanted to be reimbursed.  

On top of that, there were the attempts on Fisher’s life. “Every day this week, someone has tried to assassinate me. Out of those seven assassins, each one told me I was the reason this city will fall to ruin and lawlessness,” he told Blasé, who listened with a calculating mind. “I must be hearing at least twenty complaints a day, all of which want me gone. And then there are the protesters, but there hadn't been more than ten or fifteen people. Right now, it is mostly manageable, even if I do get shouted and screamed at whenever I leave or enter the building.” 

“Fisher, this program was just a test run to see if it can coincide with our desire to see this city thrive. Just so you know, if it will help us reach our goal, I have no qualms about removing you from your position. Either willingly or unwillingly. Of course, it isn’t personal at all.” 

“Blasé, there could have been a better way to say that.” Eina frowned at her brother and disapprovingly shook her head. “Fisher, neither me nor Blasé expect it to go that far. We’re just putting it out there as a precaution.” 

“I expected something like this,” Fisher confessed.  

I used to roam around the town without a helmet, but now I have to wear it to ward off any archers. And now Mire and Tim want to follow me out on patrol to act as my bodyguards… 

“On the topic of your assaults… The seven suspects are locked in the prison. I assume you were able to subdue them without killing?” Blasé wanted a verbal recount even though he had read the reports.  

“More or less. There is a Dwarf in there that’s missing an arm. I couldn’t stay my sword, or I would have been injured. He should make a recovery, though. As long as the shock doesn’t kill him. I do believe Nicholas is behind it all. If only for the simple fact that the assailants all had a religious reason behind their attacks. And one of them turned out to be Jimmy’s father…” 

“I agree, but we just don’t have any proof at all,” Blasé uttered. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, which forced his sister to chastise him for his unprofessionalism. “We’ve read your reports, but it’s all just ‘the Gods told me to attack the heathen to save this city,’ and other bullshit. If we use that reasoning, Nicholas has an easy defense at the ready. A stalwart defense, at that. And that’s not including his status as bishop. If he was just a lowly clergy, I could use my status as governor to imprison him. Hell, I could even make up a false charge or run a campaign to ruin his reputation. Regardless, if it does come to it, we might have to do something drastic.” 

“Brother! We are not kidnapping him!” Eina exploded like a firecracker, forgetting to use his false name.  

“Calm down. It’s not that, though that would be the easiest way. No. Fisher, we might have to borrow that slave—” 

“No. Absolutely no. That is not happening,” Fisher said, cutting off Blasé while standing up. His chair was pushed back, slamming into the wall behind him. Its backrest clacked against the glass, but it didn’t shatter. “They’ve just now learned to stop crying at night, and you want to force them to go back into that horrible life?! There are still months of work that need to be done for their recovery, and I refuse to jeopardize any of that progress.” 

“Even if it was a matter of city safety?” Blasé refused to stand up. His hard eyes gazed at the rugged captain of the guard— a man who had seen far more bloodshed and death for a dozen lifetimes.

“…” Fisher stayed quiet and calculated his thoughts. Before responding, Blasé spoke again.  

“You wouldn’t give up their location if it assured the safety of your family? Is the life of a former slave more than that? Remember, we have a job to do here, and that is to guarantee the success of this city. I don’t know why, and I don't ask why, but that is our task.” 

In his deeper voice, Fisher growled out a single question. “Are you threatening me?” Indomitable rage carefully flowed underneath his stark black suit of armor. Even as the helmet covering his head remained still, his eyes wanted to vibrate with anger.  

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“Take it as you will. No matter the cost, this city must thrive. The moment growth stagnates and turns into decline, I will do what needs to be done. With or without your consent.” 

Knowing a violent spurt was about to emerge, Fisher simply endured the strain of wanting to shout. “Then I have nothing more to add.” He walked around the desk, refusing to pick up his chair, and stormed out of his office. He did make sure not to slam the door, even though all the cells in his body wanted to break something.  

“Oi! Next week. Same time and place!” blurted Blasé. He waited for an affirmation, but one did not come. 

“Blasé, you need to stop acting like a fool. You went too far,” Eina said. She had a scowl on her face that could kill an ogre. Both she and her brother knew the captain hadn’t fully walked away, yet they continued their conversation as if he had moved on.  Blasé grinned, knowing his carefully thought-out plan was falling into place.

“Look. You know how I get those uncomfortable feelings in the pit of my stomach? Yeah… I’ve been getting them for a few days now… Soon, something is going to happen, and it won’t be pretty.” He stood up and adjusted his tie, then angrily ripped it off.  

“Threatening his family isn’t the way to do that.” Eina stood up, grabbed a spare tie from her storage, and replaced the one her brother had snagged off.  

“You should know me by now. We’ve only been together for 20 years. I wouldn’t hurt a child, but don’t forget our mission.  Sooner or later, we have to take care of this Nicholas problem before it gets to a point where Fisher’s assassination is a boon for us. Still, I’ll think of a way to apologize. But if I can be truthful, sister, I am honestly leaning towards assassinating Nicholas. It is rough when you’re absolutely sure he is behind it, but you don’t have any legal avenue of settling things…” 

The rest of this day played out with Tim and Mire taking turns protecting their captain. From following him on patrol to even walking with him back to the house, he essentially had no alone time. A concerning situation that continued on to the 16th of August. Gods forbid Fisher had to use the bathroom at any point. If he tried to slip away using that excuse when Mire was watching him, she sent for Tim to wait inside the restroom.  

Deep inside, the captain knew they meant well. Even if they were both standing outside his home at six in the morning.  

When Fisher told his wife of the attempts on his life, she didn’t quite know how to take her. She thought him to be the strongest fighter in the world, so she had faith nothing would befall him. After a calm debate, the two realized telling their daughters of the dangerous attacks on their father’s life would do more harm than good. And upon learning about his bodyguards, she thought it immediately necessary to do something nice for Tim and Mire.  

So on the 17th of August, the day the festival was officially supposed to start, she sent her husband off with a small, decorated bag full of cookies. “Be sure to tell Mire and Tim I want to thank them for keeping you safe. I know it’s their job, but I can really rest easier knowing you have your subordinates watching your back.” 

“I don’t have to tell them that because they heard you,” Fisher said upon cracking open the door. Tim and Mire were there in the flesh with blushing cheeks.  

After a small conversation, Fisher felt more like a noble being escorted to the academy than a hardened captain of many battles. He sighed, something unbecoming of a man of his position as he walked down a road filled to the brim with decorative festivities. It wasn’t scheduled to start until a couple hours later, but men and women of all races and ages were hard at work. Banners with pretty colors were in the process of being hung across houses and buildings, flags representing Lando and Canary were being flown. For the ever-popular fishing game, one designed for children to use a stick and a string to loop a hook through a toy fish. The prizes—actual goldfish—has to be delivered as late as possible to ensure they’d survive until the end of the week.  

Fisher and his bodyguards passed by quite a few supporters of his. They raised a friendly hand and thanked the captain for doing an excellent job. On the other hand, the number of dissenters seemed to be increasing after each day. When the trio turned the corner to get on the common district's longest street, they encountered those very people. Admittedly, it was just a tiny fraction, but it didn’t take a genius to tell the protesters were related to the 22 guardsmen Fisher and his team arrested.  

“Just ignore ‘em, captain. They don’t have reason to be mad because those guardsmen did attack us. It’s treason, isn’t it?” asked Tim. 

“It is, but executing them does nothing for us and only grants power to those who want to see me gone,” Fisher replied.  

Mire spoke up and offered her thoughts while keeping a pair of sharp eyes on a dissenter who was acting shifty. “It’ll pass in time. When you think about it, we did nothing wrong. False enslavement is a crime. One that is supposed to be recognized by the church and Lando.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right,” replied Fisher. He cracked opened the box of cookies and gave two to his bodyguards. With their thanks, they scarfed the chocolatey treats down with a passion and offered their complementary complements. “Haha! I’ll be sure to let my wife know.” 

With that, silence naturally took over as three pairs of eyes were on the lookout. Neither of their owners would have any time to rest until they reached the headquarters, something that happened about forty-five minutes later. 

The three nodded and greeted Rita and Riley, who were standing ever faithfully by the entrance. Truth be told, after being trusted with a task from their captain, the two of them were reading to accomplish something. The desire to actually be promoted through the ranks started to set their hearts aflame with the desire for self-improvement.  

Upon entering through to a lobby that was packed to the brim of angry, irate nobles who failed to secure a spot in the noble district, Fisher wasn’t expecting to see Blasé. He leaned against the wall while chatting to his sister. She held a briefcase against her chest as a radiant smile lit up her face. And as always, she rather enjoyed wearing the clothes of a secretary.  

“Captain!” exclaimed the governor. He adjusted his tie and walked over to Fisher. Tim and Mire gave a steady salute.  

“Governor,” briskly replied Fisher.  

“Look, I want to apologize for some things I said that may have been out of line during the last meeting. It’s a good thing you two are here because I need a favor. Eina, the schedule?” 

Three blank faces stared at Eina as she retrieved a document from her briefcase. Upon taking it, Blasé finished what he wanted to say while going about it in a roundish way. “In short, I’d like to know if you two are willing to work a few longer days to give our dear captain some much-needed time off.” 

“Sir?” Both Mire and Tim were confused, but only the latter spoke up.  

“During the Warden training program a few months, you two were in charge of the guard, yes? While Fisher was focusing on his own class?” 

“That’s right,” said Mire.  

“Then how would you two like to have that responsibility again? From now until the 23rd? Do this for the captain, and I’ll triple your pay for those six days.” 

“Captain?” murmured Tim. He looked to Fisher. He turned back.  

“It’s up to you. Don’t think that you’re forced to do this, however.” 

Tim and Mire shared a look of pensiveness. “What about the captain’s bodyguards? There hasn’t been an attempt today, but—” 

“I’ve already thought of that, so it’s all taken care of.” 

Since it was technically a request from the governor—the highest authority within Canary—it would have been rude to decline the generous offer. Although the two had to admit the triple pay was very tempting by itself. After agreeing to it, Mire smiled at her captain and wished him a wonderful festival. She made sure to note about he often had to work throughout it, and Tim added that he thought Fisher deserved to spend it with his family.  

“Great! Now, before you leave, Fisher, I’d like to have a moment of your time. Alone. Preferably within your office.” Fisher nodded, but he felt uneasy about the whole thing. Surely he thought this wasn’t going to be another threat. 

Blasé, Eina, and Fisher left Mire and Tim behind to head upstairs. Those two had a lot to get done, so it was best for them to get right to it since Fisher's job was more difficult during this time of year.

“Blasé, what is this about?” Fisher asked, dropping the use of ‘sir’ or ‘governor.’ 

“I won’t mince my words or add any bullshit. Fisher, we believe it’s time to assassinate Nicholas.” Just like that, he dropped a bombshell that even took his sister by 'surprise.'  

“Brother?!” exclaimed Eina. “We talked about this!” 

“Look. There is just no other way. We just have no legal avenue to bring him to justice because there is no admissible evidence. We technically just have feelings and his creepy words of high-quality prayers. Yes, they match up with Fisher’s assailants, but there is no court in this land that will accept that without being bribed. And really, if Nicholas can control a person’s mind, he has to have the judges in the palm of his hands. Just think, Qina! Some with that power would have powerful allies! Both here, in Adenaford, and possibly in the Divine Principality of Tobris. You know, where the church is headquartered at?"

Suddenly, the gears turned in Eina’s pretty head. “So keeping Fisher at home is another way to protect him? Because you don’t know who here has been compromised?” 

“That's right. Tim and Mire… We can’t rule out the possibility they’re Nicholas's pawns… Remember our time at Warden? The closest allies can turn at the drop of a hat…” 

“…” Fisher stayed quiet and forced a gargling outburst to die out. Tim? Mire? Betraying me? Fisher, stay calm and think it through. Acting out of line and letting your anger spring forth will solve nothing and cause more problems. “Then what? Do you want me to kill Nicholas? He has an assistant, remember? Does he need to die?"

“If he's there or you're discovered, then yes. If I provide the right time and place, could you kill him?” Blasé asked.  

 

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