A Prince\'s Refuge

[Shinigami]

The very sky seemed to shatter above, dumping torrential rains that pounded the shining bald head of exiled prince Ahdeka ibn-Falmar mercilessly as he and his four loyal Saldhim bodyguards rode their magnificent coal-black Jannistani steeds through the outer gates of Oberon at last. "Ignorant fools," Ahdeka muttered to himself as he gripped the reins tighter, reliving the frustration of the morning. Ahdeka and his party had been held up at the drawbridge until the middle of the afternoon while the gate guards sifted through what few belongings his Saldhim had been able to gather from Jaanistan before escaping the Ghalahim hordes sacking the capital. Four months later, they reached Elaria and Oberon Castle only to be accosted by the gate guards upon arrival.

Easing his grip on the reins, Ahdeka allowed his frustration to pass. They fear what is strange to them, he thought to himself. Xenophobos, his old Ichaerian tutor Aesthanes had called it and said that most people in this world were guilty of it in some fashion or another. The refugee prince smiled sadly at the thought of his old tutor. The frail old man with the wispy white beard was more of a friend and confidant than a teacher, and challenged Ahdeka’s mind more than the worst and most convoluted battlefield scenarios. Those clear, oasis pool-blue eyes of brilliance were probably focused on the education of Ahdeka’s youngest sister Tes when the Ghalahim finally sacked Khalanabad, Jewel of Jaanistan. Ahdeka closed his eyes and said a quick and silent prayer to the Last Prophet asking that Aesthanes be admitted in a swift manner into the loving open arms of Jhal.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to the dreary afternoon sky, letting the harsh rain splash in his face. Coming from a mostly arid land, the rains were somewhat refreshing but the sheer amount that came from the skies here in the Northern lands seemed to be impossible.  Splashing mud gave way to slick cobble-stone as Ahdeka and his bodyguards rode through the southern Inner Gate. Ahdeka held up a closed fist, and he and his Saldhim slowed to a stop. Nestled against the inner wall was a vast sprawling two-storied affair that, judging from the myriad of neighs and whinnies emanating from within, must be a grand Stablery. The prince-in-exile looked over his shoulder to his cowled warriors and nodded toward the massive wooden structure. The four bodyguard-servants nodded once, sharply, and Ahdeka led the group headed toward the stables.

At the entrance to the northern yard of the stables, Ahdeka saw what he presumed were various stable workers milling about: changing hay, brushing horses, preparing bags of oats, even some affixing semi-circles of iron to the bottoms of the horses’ hooves. The prince cleared his throat and addressed the stable workers loudly in the awkward tongue of the Northlanders.

“My Saldhim and I require only the best resting place for our mounts. Where is the one called ‘Stable Worker Gallagher’?”

[Existentially Odd]

A young woman looked up from the hoof the farrier with her was hammering a shoe into and her eyes widened.  Her gaze took in the impressive sight of the prince and his entourage and she bent to whisper something to the farrier, summarily dropping the extra hammer and nails she was holding.  Glancing about the workyard - where a couple of other stable workers had also stopped to look - she volunteered her services with a raise of her hand, like a nervous child who thinks she knows the answer to her tutor\'s question.

"Gallagher?" she repeated, realising the title the dark-skinned man had given was wrong, but that the name was right.  When she received her confirmation, she smiled hesitantly.  "I\'ll just go and get him," she promised, and scuttled up the ramp to the second storey as fast as her short legs could carry her.  She asked everyone she passed where Gallagher was but didn\'t get an answer that satisfied her until she came upon the third person; he was downstairs, at the northern end of the grounds, attending a distressed mare in the birthing suite.

Racing to the opposite end of the building (for the girl believed that her mission was one of great importance, considering the tone in which the man had spoken), the stable hand ran down the stairs and to the appropriate building.  "Gallagher!" she cried as she ran, "Gallagher!"

Bede heard the shouts and frowned darkly - an uncharacteristic expression for him, but he was concentrating hard.  "Shut her up, would you?" he asked as mildly as he could through gritted teeth, his gaze not shifting from the side of the stable.  He was elbow-deep in horse vagina and really couldn\'t afford the lapse in concentration at that moment.  One of the two other men in the hushed little room spun on his heel and stopped the panicked girl at the door, whispering harshly to her (and certainly not in the polite tones she would\'ve received from the Stable Manager himself, were this any other time).

Quieted, the girl entered the room humbly, eyes widened yet again as she took in the sight of Gallagher - blonde curls mostly stuck to his head with sweat - kneeling on the hay with his back to her, at the rear end of a horse that wasn\'t moving nearly enough, considering she was supposed to be giving birth.  The mare was, in fact, dead, and the foal was not being particularly co-operative in exiting before it died, too. She\'d obviously arrived at a crucial moment for, as she watched, Gallagher\'s broad shoulders tensed obviously beneath his beige-coloured shirt and, with one tremendous heave, he yanked the baby clear of its mother.

The solemn stable erupted into a flurry of movement as the two other men hastened to help pierce the foal\'s placenta and clear its airways, helping Gallagher ensure the spindly-legged creature could breathe in its new environment.  After ascertaining that it was, indeed, alive, Gallagher got to his feet, leaving it to the other two men to care for.  His saddened gaze found the dead mother beyond the life being cossetted at her back and rested there briefly, his scowl growing... until, with a sigh, he bent and scooped up a nearby towel and turned to face the female.

"What is it, Lucy?" he barked, wiping his forearms.

The girl blanched, her gaze drawn lower against her will.  "There... important people... there\'s people here... big... black... asked for you b-by name," she choked out, her horrified gaze finally making its way back up his tall body.

"Then let us go and see these important people," he announced bitterly, tossing the cloth he\'d held aside and taking a step towards the exit.

"But Gallagher!" the stablehand cried, instinctively holding a hand up to his shoulder to waylay him.  "You\'re covered in blood!"

The Manager paused to consider the girl, his eyes telling the story of his mixed emotions, clearly displaying how upset he was at the fact of the mare\'s demise.  It took him a few moments before he had an answer.  "Nobody\'s too important to escape the facts of death, Lucy," he told her morosely, and grabbed her arm to compel her with him as he walked out of the small stable he\'d been cooped up in for the past three hours.  "Where are they?" he asked, turning his face up to catch the rain upon it, even briefly.  It felt good and refreshing, after what he\'d just been through.

"North yard," the girl replied, watching her boss\' uncharacteristic movements worriedly.  Gallagher was always so cheery and didn\'t do strange things like grab people and force them to keep up with his enormous strides.  Then again, they didn\'t lose horses every day and she supposed... it was a grieving process.

By the time the pair rounded the end of the stables, Gallagher had let Lucy go and was staring straight ahead.  The sight of the foreign horses caused a spark of interest to light his blue eyes, despite his misery, and he admired them as he approached from behind.  The party did look important; he could understand Lucy\'s panic now.  How long had he kept them waiting?  Long enough to make an enemy of them?  Fresh from the traumatic experience he\'d just undergone, he didn\'t particularly care - though he knew he should - and he was ready for stern words as he rounded the party and came to a stop before them all.

"I am Stable Manager Gallagher, I believe you asked for me by name?" he addressed the entire group, his gaze roving among them in an effort to decide who the spokesperson would be.  His fists went to his hips, his feet spread boldly as he stared them down through the rain, unperturbed by the amount of blood and birthing muck that covered most of his front, the grime on his face, the weariness in his expression.

[Shinigami]

Ahdeka dismounted from his horse, taking care not to slip off the wet saddle as he did so. He took his horse\'s reins in his hand as his four bodyguards all dismounted behind him, dropping into a crouch and kneeling in quick salute before standing again, all in perfect unison. Fighting back a smile as he saw the awe reflected in the gazes of the workers at his Saldhim\'s little maneuver, he addressed the golden-haired man in front of him.

"Master Gallagher," the refugee prince said, half-shouting to be heard over the pouring rain, "I am Prince Ahdeka ibn-Falmar of the distant land of Jaanistan, and these are my loyal servants. I was told by the gate guards upon entering Oberon that you were the one to talk to about securing only the best accomodations for our steeds, for they are weary after our travels and in much need of rest."

Ahdeka led his horse a couple of paces closer to Gallagher and then took a moment to hide his shock as he now clearly saw the blood covering most of the stable manager\'s torso. It began dripping off his sleeves in a steady trickle as the rain soaked the man\'s tunic, and formed a burgundy puddle at the stable manager\'s feet. The prince stared, and after a while, nodded knowingly to Gallagher. "By all means, tend to the mare and foal if it is not too late, for their troubles seem to... how do you say it? To outweigh my own? I will wait if it need be so, but I would prefer a drier place to wait, if it is at all available."

[Existentially Odd]

Gallagher gave a weary smile and waved a dismissive hand between them.  "You\'ve already done your waiting, my friend; and in the rain, for which I apologise, but I didn\'t allow Lucy to tell me your story immediately, I was... busy.  It is too late for the mare but the foal lives," he explained with a perfunctory nod, narrowing a thoughtful gaze upon the foreigner.  "You are a very astute man," he mused, lips twisting into a contemplative smile.  Obviously a horse man, too, to recognise birthing fluids on him - which Gallagher didn\'t say but he silently appreciated above all else.  "I\'m impressed."

With a grin, he turned his attention to the beast attached to the rein the prince held.  "Almost as impressed as I am by the fine mounts you bear," he said, a small light of brevity entering his eyes at last.  The death of one horse was made bearable when faced with the sight of five brand new ones of such exceptional quality before him.  "They\'re beautiful.  Truly, I would greatly appreciate you taking some time to explain their heritage at some point - not to mention their attributes," he invited, sparing a glance for the prince before eyeing off his mount again.

"For now, though; the gate guards were right.  This is the only place to stable your horses and they will be looked after faithfully," he promised as he made a signal to Lucy, who stepped forward, ready to take the reins off the prince.  "Forgive me if I don\'t take the lead myself; I don\'t want to make the horses nervous," he explained, gesturing at his clothing and realising that that amount of blood was certainly going to impact on the sensitive beasts\' demeanour.  "If you\'ll allow Lucy to take your men to some of our free stalls upstairs, you and I might precede them to my quarters so I can change and we can discuss the details of the stabling arrangements?" Gallagher enquired politely, raising his eyebrows and gesturing towards the broad ramp behind him, which he intended to head up, with the prince at his side if his plan was agreeable.

[Shinigami]

The prince looked over his shoulder at his four Saldhim and nodded once, sharply. The cowled bodyguards nodded back in response, and Ahdeka turned back to face Gallagher. "Your plan is a sound one, but my Saldhim warriors do not like me to be out of their sight for long."

Ahdeka turned to face the young girl. "Luu-Si, if you would be quick in your journey to the stalls with my Saldhim\'s horses, they-- and I-- would greatly appreciate it." He looked at the golden-haired stable manager. "Let us proceed, Master Gallagher, for I am on a quest of grave importance and I cannot afford to have my beloved steeds unrested for too long." The refugee prince waved a hand forward to allow Gallagher the lead up the large ramp. "Please, lead the way to your quarters while Luu-Si takes care of my Saldhim, and I will answer any questions you have while you change into fresh clothing."

[Existentially Odd]

Gallagher nodded, instructed Lucy to get four other hands and have them help her rub down and dry the black horses immediately, before he turned and headed up the ramp.  He paused and spun back to add a final instruction before he left, though - that the new additions should be placed in spare stalls near the Oberon royals\' quarters, on the top floor of the stables.  He didn\'t say as much, but as far as he figured, a prince was a prince and his beast of the same ilk, so they shouldn\'t bother even asking about the standard of accommodation the foreigners might require.  That said, the Stable Manager gave a reassuring smile to his companion and continued on his way.

As he went, he pondered if the Saldhim might not take too kindly to strangers caring for their horses and might insist that they be the ones to attend to them... but then, they might also appreciate the task done for them if they had travelled a long way and theywere tired.  Either way, he trusted his workers to do their job efficiently and respectfully and he didn\'t look back to see the way of things when he heard the clatter of the new horses stepping onto the ramp behind him.

He led the prince down the aisle farthest to the left when they entered the darkened stables, travelling the length of the enormous building with a frown.  "I apologise that it\'s so dark in here," he explained, "it seems the hands have been a bit busy to light some lanterns on this dark, rainy day - or perhaps they just haven\'t noticed.  Eyes have a way of adjusting to one\'s circumstances if one doesn\'t have a chance to see beyond them," he mused, his voice light but his thoughts more philosophical.  He had yet to tell the owner of the mare that she\'d died and only now was he beginning to see the difference of light beyond the circumstances he\'d been concentrating on these past hours.

Gallagher opened the door to the quarters in the far back corner of the stables without using his key once they arrived, leading the prince into a humble living area with a kitchen to the right and the doors that led to two rooms straight ahead.  The one on the right was closed, the one on the left was open, allowing a view of his double bed and dresser within.

"Please, make yourself at home, I\'ll be right back," the blonde said with a dip of his flattened curls, indicating the small table and chairs set up just beyond the doorway (and, really, the couch facing the fireplace if that was to be the prince\'s wish).  Without further ado, he went into the bedroom and closed the door, stripping quickly and leaving everything he\'d been wearing in a pile in the corner for later attention.  He pulled on clean unders, dark brown pants with a belt and a beige long sleeved shirt with a criss-cross string to hold the split over his chest closed.  He towelled his hair dry quickly, finger-combed the semi-revived golden tresses, and then left the room, not bothering with shoes.

"Sorry about that," he said as he re-emerged, his gaze going quickly towards his guest to see whether he\'d sat yet or not - and where, for that matter.  "I\'ll just get my register and we can begin," he explained in a friendly tone, heading for the bookcase beside the door, where he intended to withdraw a leather-bound book - along with a quill and small bottle of ink - and then sit in the chair closest to the wall, if his guest had decided to take his advice and sit at the table himself, of course.

[Shinigami]

Ahdeka sat at the small wooden table in the stable manager\'s quarters and bowed his head in thought as the man Gallagher changed into fresh clothing. An audience with the king is what I require, but what then? the prince thought. Can I convince him to aid my people in my plight? Or was this long journey in vain? The prince barely heard Gallagher come back into the living area with a leather-bound book, presumeably a ledger of some sort, looking expectantly at Ahdeka.

The refugee prince pulled a decent-sized purse from inside his outer robes and spilled the contents onto the table where Gallagher sat across from him: a pile of gold ingots stamped into the customary Jaanistani rectangular shape, bearing in the trade language Asardjic the words "Jhal is above and all is right with His Lower Kingdom" on one side and the equivalent value of water on the other. Most of the ingots were 15- or 20-goatskinsacs, but there were a few 50-goatskin ingots in the pile as well.

"If this is too much," Prince Ahdeka said, "keep the rest for yourself and your fellow stable workers. If more is needed, I will pay further, for money is no object. While you weigh and calculate the equal worth in Oberian values, I will tell you of the quest that led me here, and perhaps you can aid me with information."

[Existentially Odd]

Gallagher blinked as the gold spilled onto the table before him, his attention immediately diverted from fussing with finding the next page in his register and uncapping the ink well.  He tried very hard to maintain his composure and so, after an initial expression which clearly declared shock at so much gold tumbling forth, his countenance shuttered into something resembling intense curiosity instead.  He nodded at the gold, realised he hadn\'t met his visitor\'s eyes (and how rude that was) and hastily looked up, blue irises centred determinedly on black ones.

"I do believe that you\'ve offered enough here for all your horses to remain stabled for about six moons," he said evenly, then swivelled in his seat to reach to the bookcase behind him and grab the scale and weights sitting on a shelf there.  Once his long arms had placed the lot on the table and he was facing the prince once more, he offered a rueful smile and ruffled a hand through his hastily-dried curls.  The excited gesture matched the light of intrigue dancing in his eyes, so Ahdeka would know that he held the manager\'s full attention, even though his hands quickly became busy squeezing gold ingots to test their purity and weighing out amounts equivalent to the stable\'s fees.

"As you say though, I will weigh out what is necessary while you tell me of your quest - for all I know, you don\'t require six moons of stabling?" he said, in a manner that requested enlightenment, a golden eyebrow arched speculatively as his gaze slid off the gold and to his visitor once more.  Considering how much money was laid out before him, Gallagher wondered what the man with the shining black skin could still need from life - surely he was wealthy enough to buy everything he required?  There was an air of urgent importance about him that denied this naive supposition, however, and Bede was therefore excessively interested in this \'quest\' Ahdeka spoke of.

[Shinigami]

While the stable master counted out the gold ingots, Ahdeka cleared his throat lightly and began his tale:

"Far from your borders, many month\'s journey to the south and east beyond the Southern Sands, lies my homeland of Jaanistan. It is the most beautiful place you can imagine, where the air is warm and dry and smells of fig and palm trees, where all of the peoples from all corners of the world come to trade. I am... was...the second oldest prince of that land, and am descended through my father\'s line through the ages to Halal himself, who was directed by the Mighty Jhal to found the city of Khalanabad that would become the foundation of the great Jaanistan.

"Halfway through my nineteenth year, an unknown horde from beyond the Blackest West first attacked the borders of my land. I was made Prince-General of the Fifth Defense Battle Formation and was charged with defense of the southwestern Qarmhein Province of Jaanistan.

"For five continuous years we fought the Ghalahim, or \'Dark Army\' in your tongue. Day, night, dawn, dusk they would launch another attack, never resting save to die out and be replaced with another group coming out of the West. My Formation of thousands dwindled over five years to a battle-hardened Saldhim elite of one hundred men that could repel any Ghalahim sent our way.

"One day, late in the season, I received orders to pull back and reinforce the capital. We rode hard for two weeks to reach the capital, but we were too late. The Ghalahim finally managed to overrun Khalanabad. We arrived in time to find the Ghalahim troops in the process of sacking the Great Palace and slaughtering most of the my family. I avenged them swiftly, slaughtering forty men myself in the remains of my family\'s palace.

"I heard a female voice calling out to me. It was my beloved sister Tesilna, crying out as a large group of Ghalahim were tormenting her before they killed her as well. I lunged at them, my battle group behind me, and together my hundred men and I fought for three days straight without water or nourishment to protect my sister on the palace grounds, but finally the endless hordes poured into our ranks and my world grew dim and I knew nothing further.

"When I awoke some untold days later, I was being taken across the Vast Sands by my six remaining Saldhim warriors to the relative safety of the Northern Lands. Through traders that had barely escaped the sacking of Khalanabad, word reached me that the bodies of my family were hung from the gates of the Great Palace for all to see, with the exception of my sister, whose body has not been seen.

"So I am here now, good Stable Manager, to appeal to your king to send any willing warriors on a quest to save my sister. As I am the eldest heir remaining of my father\'s line, I am king but will not accept the title as long as my land is in the hands of the accursed Ghalahim. So I will stand before your king as a prince and ask for any aid he can supply."

[Existentially Odd]

The Oberon native\'s mouth very gradually but progressively dropped as the prince\'s tale was woven before him.  He even emitted a gasp when the part about the man\'s sister likely being alive was stated.  It was beautifully spoken - not only because of the prince\'s exotic accent - and it turned Gallagher\'s heart.  He could relate to a man desperately struggling to avenge his family and find what little remained of it.  He could imagine himself thusly driven if one of his own sisters was thought to remain while the rest of the family he loved was slaughtered.

"I... certainly hope King Kestrel is as moved by your plight as I am," the blonde allowed, swallowing and shaking his head very minutely in an effort to dispel the magic woven by the heartbreaking tale, that had ensnared him somehow.  The prince, in fact, was somehow more beautiful and stoic now, when seen through freshly enchanted eyes.

"But you see... Oberon has no army.  We just have guards to protect the city, there is no grand force in the area that would be able to join your cause and travel with you to re-take your homeland," he explained apologetically, rather hoping the king might come up with some sort of plan to help the prince, but not feeling confident about it in the slightest.