Calliope nodded and stood up reaching out to take Roderick’s outstretched hand. The Sea Lord smiled and turned his benevolent gaze upon Markus. There was an almost physical sparking as their eyes met. Neither one of them was a stranger to violence and neither backed down easily or gracefully.

“I of course have no knowledge of where or how the dowry will be shipped, it isn’t as though I am a cartographer with a shop on Belmouth street after all,” Roderick declared. The word of a pirate likely wasn’t enough to get a man of Roderick’s station in much trouble, but there were certain truth detecting spells for which it was useful to be able to issue a technical denial.

“I bid you good evening gentlemen,” the Sea Lord concluded smoothly and escorted Calliope out of the tavern. As though summoned a coach of dark polished teak wood turned the corner and rattled over the dilapidated cobblestones. The soldiers performed a smart right face bringing them into a column four abreast, they then split into two files of two to create a space for the coach to pull up. Roderick handed her up gallantly and they set off towards the Crimson Fortress. 

“You don’t think he will just sail off without you do you?” Roderick asked with a speculative look back at the Buggered Whale. They were moving slowly enough that the infantry outside could keep pace at a steady march. Calliopie shook her head, she didn’t think Markus would simply leave her behind, at the very least he had to deal with the enchantments she had left aboard. The Elf they had hired could probably break them if given a few hours but given that she still had her valuables and was enough of a mage to be a valuable addition she didn’t see it was muchin his interest.

“I rather doubt it,” she responded as the carriage rattled up the hill towards the imposing fortress that served as the palace.

“He could have killed me and tossed my body off shore if that were his plan,” she explained.

“He might still kill you and dump your body,” Roderick countered. The carriage passed smoothly over an impressive drawbridge and between two large turrets of the distinctive red granite that gave the Crimson Fortress its name. Although the construction of the Fortress was old, the main gate was protected by very modern ravelins that projected like spikes. The low walls were slopped to deflect cannon fire upwards and modern guns projected from the firing ports. Calliope wondered if Roderick had commissioned the new fortifications. He had, she recalled served as a mercenary with the Army of Anndred and was up to date with modern siege tactics. 

“I’m touched by your concern,” Calliope replied with a ghost of a smile.

“But maybe you should be more concerned with HIS welfare.” The Sea Lord snickered.

“Inconvenient people around you do have a habit of coming down with a bad case of death,” Roderick agreed. The soldiers along side them peeled off as the entered the courtyard and were replaced by livered servants who helped them from the carriage.

“You know of course that I would be happy to offer you sancturary as well as … quiet assistance to find you a place more suited to your station,” Roderick said, his fingers stroking her hair as her head lay upon his chest. Calliope laughed lazily fingers toying with the expensive Vrettonian silk sheets. Roderick’s chambers were in one of the smaller towers of keep though the rooms themselves were as richly appointed as her own had been back in Calaverede. Dozens of weapons as well as rare and expensive charts covered the walls along with jewel encrusted navigational aide and astrolabes. She walked her fingers up Rodericks naked muscular torso and then reached over him to take a bottle of wine from the well stocked side board and took pour herself another glass. 

“Mmmm not exactly the desperate exile just yet,” she said taking a sip. The first rays of the dawn were already streaming through the windows, filling the chamber with soft golden light. Roderick snorted reaching down to give her naked rump an affectionate squeeze.

“As it happens I am in the market for a wife,” Roderick said taking a brandy decanter from the sideboard and talking a long drink.

“You would be a better candidate than most, I could pretend I wanted to take Calaverde back to right some great injustice to my beloved,” Roderick jested. Calliope smiled sardonically. She didn’t doubt the offer was sincere but she didn’t have any illusions that Roderick would allow her to share power in any meaningful way. It wasn’t in either of their make ups to passively sit by. Marriage amounted to a comfortable retirement at least so long as Roderick remained in power in Stormcrest.

“Well despite your extremely romantic proposal,” she murmered running a series of kisses up over his collarbone.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline for now.”

“For now?” Roderick asked with an amused chuckle.

“Then I shall have to live in hope!” he declared with a grin, pressing his hand to his heart dramatically. Calliope rolled her eyes and was about to reply when a polite knock sounded at the door.

“Come,” Roderick called and a middle aged servant entered the room bearing a silver tray which he lay on a carefully carved table at the end of the chamber before whisking away the cover to reveal to silver plates of steaming bacon and eggs.

“So you are really planning to turn pirate?” Roderick asked around a mouthful of breakfast. They were both more or less dressed now. Roderick had provided her a new shirt of brilliant white silk with subtle silver embroidery though she had opted not to wear the skin tight scarlet pantaloons he had matched with it, preferring her own doeskin breeches. 

“If this dowry is as big as you seem to think, it should go a way to putting me back on my feet. Certainly it will create opportunities.” That was true in more ways than one. Beyond the simple monetary value, the theft of such a vast hoard of treasure which was also the key to the most important political union in a generation would through the whole Sea of Swords in to chaos and where there was chaos, there was opportunity.

“OH it will be big,” Roderick amplified, “I saw Svetlana at Brauerhusen, she looks like the whelp of a bear that took advantage of a porpoise.” Calliope couldn’t help but laugh at the description. Roderick made a warding sign with his fork, the solemnity of the gesture slightly spoiled when a piece of egg fell from the tip.

“They must be paying the poor groom a FORTUNE, politics be damned.” Roderick sobered. 

“...and speaking of politics I have a favor to ask you.”