Twenty Minutes Before Takeoff
To his merit, Cheki actually taught me some things about the castle. Not that I was actively engaging him or interested. Unlike the prince’s abode at Riverhold, the castle was actually built on top of the mouth of a river. The donjon that was originally the only edifice on this side of Osmouth, used to be beside that river but as the castle expanded, the builders decided to incorporate that and built the castle over it, donjon and all.
The castle had a smithy, a small farm, a barracks, and pens of livestock and poultry. The small farm, Cheki explained, used to be smaller, its crops only used for animal feed. None of these parts impressed me more than the section beside the stables.
Perhaps owing to the things I was used to seeing, I’ve wondered about pets in this world. No cats or dogs or birds were kept. No one in Osea kept pets. Children would catch insects or even the unfortunate rodents and cage them from time to time, but that never lasted. Even fascinating birds caught by trappers weren’t kept as pets. They were either sold to merchants or, ended up on a stick. I attributed it to necessity.
There were references to them, expressions, that made me think pets existed. It was the first thought that came to mind when I heard of houndsharks. A pet was another mouth, or maw, to feed. Unless it can be sold or traded later on, it had no purpose. That was just the reality. So, I stopped wondering about them. There might have been another reason.
“What is th-” I pointed at the cages with my eyes wide, “What are those?”
They were canines, they looked like canines but, they were something out of nightmare. They head had the most similarity to a dog but wider. There were protrusions of dirty, white color all over. As we neared, I realized what they were – bones.
Clusters of them joined on the forehead like a plate, its mass tapering slightly downwards to the middle of its head. The cheekbones, the lower part of the jaw, parts of the shoulder, the top half of the chest, and the two sides of its back had these bony formations. In places where it was wide enough, I could actually see where the bones seem to have met. It gave it an armor-like appearance.
My initial reaction upon realizing they were bones was to think these animals were being mistreated, a thought I immediately discarded. Not only were their coats thick, but they were also clean. And massive. The closest to us would easily reach above my waist while on all fours. The outline of its rippling muscles showed even with the thick coat. Bears. These looked more like bears than dogs.
Jesus! Does every animal in this world have to be buffer than a bodybuilder?
“That there are the kennels, and those are buntgat.”
Bonehounds. Even the name sounded terrifying.
Metal AF.
“They’re used in battle, aren’t they?”
“They used to. But none of the beasts here have seen any battles. King- the late King’s reign has been peaceful.” Cheki explained.
I jumped as one of the hounds barked. It wasn’t really a bark. It was more like a bark plus a threat. Surprising how the tone was low but full and loud at the same time.
“Isn’t it dangerous for just him to be working in there with those beasts?” I said, pointing at a man whose clothes were soaked through.
“No, no. Not at all. The hounds in there are actually playful. They just forget they’re big sometimes.”
The hell is that supposed to mean?
From Hanni’s passive expression, she was familiar with the beasts. Jibel lingered for a while ogling. Beside the kennels was the stables. I wondered if the buntgats and magrals ever meet each other in the wild. The magrals didn’t seem to mind the loud sounds the hounds were making.
“Fletching!” Jibel exclaimed when he saw the mount.
Hanni and I exchanged looks briefly. Despite the newer equipment, it was indeed Fraku’s steed. A boy, a few years older than Jibel, was feeding it. The messenger went inside the stables and came out with another man with a magral in tow moments later. The man fitted the magral into a small wagon. It was Ox.
How the hell did he get them here?
“I will take that one, groom.” Hanni pointed to Fletching, addressing the man who fitted the wagon.
He looked at her with an annoyed expression but complied. Cheki looked back and forth between then before visibly relaxing. That was not just a groom. Whether it was the stable master or the avener himself, Cheki did not say.
Once the steed was brought around, we started walking towards the castle entrance. We decided to walk instead of riding out due to the number of workers scurrying about.
Just before the stone path was a group of them fitting out something that looked like a wagon was noticeably larger. It had six wheels, was wider, and the top was flat and wide enough to be a platform. Several half-barrels filled with an assortment of flowers were placed close to where the men were working.
If anyone needed any convincing that rumors travel fast, they only need to observe every person at the castle we have met that morning. They were obviously curious who we were, but their manners indicated that they knew we were no ordinary guests despite our plain, shabby clothes. Except for Jibel and Cheki, that is.
“Every arm’s length, ye hear? From ‘ere ta the outer gate. Torches at the sides, fires at the entrance. People above lookin’ in an’ out. Ye got it?”
I pitied the poor captain. He must have been asking himself why he was taking orders from a man he didn’t know. Like me, Litoc was also still wearing shabby clothes. Another voice explained why he was compliant.
“Don’t forget the patrols. Have some of your men dressed as locals and helping the kitchen send food out, Garat nurto.”
“Understood, Lord Seneschal.”
“Sa! Jibel! Jorj! Hanni, I see ye found ‘er.”
“Ah, is this the young man I heard about?” Juwen asked, turning to Jibel.
He didn’t have to bow, he was bent already, but somehow, he was able to give the illusion that he was indeed bowing down to Jibel’s level. Jibel, unaccustomed to any formalities, just stood there looking at the old man. I took him by what he said the previous night and greeted him by his first name. I didn’t plan on bowing to anyone.
“I’ve been told you’d be out seeing what Osmouth has to offer,” the old man rummaged through his pockets, “ah, here it is. Buy whatever you like.”
“Brun.” the boy said, then added, “Lord.”
The rules for succession was an odd thing. Unlike what I knew from the previous world, here, the incoming monarch and by extension his wife, were expected to prove themselves within three months of the previous monarch’s death.
Considering that the next in line after Jakeli was a kid, I did not see how that was useful. If Jakeli didn’t live up to the expectations, it was not like they would find a replacement king. If they did, it would be his son.
The other part of this arrangement was that until then, the Seneschal was the de facto monarch and could do as he pleased. If there was another party who contented for the throne, it was his word that would be final. I pondered at how Jakeli felt about this, seeing that Litoc was fond of the old man and the old man of Litoc.
How many seneschals ended up being kings in the past?
“Busy huh?” I spoke to Litoc.
Hanni gave a nod to him as she led her mount out of the gates.
“Ha. Just fer now. Can’t take chances.”
“Jakeli? What’s he up to?”
“Oh, ‘es been told o’ the arrangements. Discussed it with ‘im first thin’ in the mornin’. Speakin’ of arrangements,” he turned to wave a man over, “this ‘ere’s Lenra. ‘e will be yer driver fer today.”
The man was obviously a soldier, but like Cheki, he was wearing ordinary clothes. It was Litoc’s idea after all. I was impressed at how far ahead Litoc had thought about things.
“Well, we’ll be going then. Got to be back before the streets get congested.”
“Ha, ha. Ye got Jak’s contribution?”
“Yes, I did. Thanks for putting him up to it.”
“I did no such thing! Well, maybe I hinted, but that’s not important now. Go on an’ spend it all.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Litoc clapped me on the shoulder and gave me a push. He returned Jibel’s wave and turned to bark orders at soldiers again.
Spend it all huh?