A few hours later Boro found himself waiting in a large room of his own in the Lords mansion. His things, and Dingir too, had been brought over to the mansion. Boro had been bathed and bandaged after being brought up from the dungeon. A doctor had inspected all of Boro's injuries and chided him for his impetuous actions. Luckily the doctor only felt a single broken rib, and two re-fractured ribs, the ones that he had gotten from his duel with Mika the previous week had mostly fully recovered before this event, and said that Boro would just need several weeks, to a whole months time for it to heal fully. If not for the excruciating pain he felt every time his chest expanded he would have laughed heartily at that. The last week, and more then likely the weeks to come as well, would leave him very little room for proper rest and relaxation. Boro needed to move quickly or else he risked Tutijas' trail running cold.
When Boro had left the dungeon he asked the Lord of Helfa how long he had been there. He had only spent a night and a day in the dungeon, and even that may have been enough time for him to lose the trail. Any more delays would most certainly leave him searching in the dark for the hermit blade master.
It was already late into the second day of his time in Helfa, and Lord Jetir had asked that Boro stay the night and that he would send a servant for Boro the following day. Although, a request from a lord might as well have been a demand, so Boro was trapped here for at least another day. In the meantime he was confined to his room during the wait because he did not know when a servant would be coming to retrieve him and making the Lord of Helfa wait on him would most certainly bring his ire down on both the servant sent to seek Boro, and Boro himself.
So Boro spent the remainder of the day in his finely furnished chambers. Hating every second of being trapped here by the political games of those ahead of his own station. Still, an important part of becoming a blade master was having a patron lord to fight for, at least till you gained your own titles and land. So Boro thanked the light that this Lord had not been vengeful of Boro beating and injuring his son and instead had offered him a hand of friendship, or at least opportunity.
Without realizing it, Boro had dozed off some time in the night, exhaustion from the last week finally hitting him. When he woke, with nothing else to do, he began the stretches and exercises, going through the stances of his sword forms. It had been some time since he had a chance to go through his forms completely. Still, he had managed to go through every single one of them perfectly. Sweat beading his body and his breathing coming quickly he finished his last form, Sword sheathed in the Stone, and placed his sword gracefully back into its scabbard. With nothing else to do Boro got himself cleaned up again, asking a servant passing by his door if hot water could be brought up for a bath. After a few trips back and forth a burly serving man had filled the large copper basin with steaming hot water. Boro removed his clothing and gingerly submerged his hurting body into the hot water-filled basin.
Boro allowed himself to soak there for a while before washing the oils from his skin. Before attending the Academy Boro had not used a bar of soap for many years, such things were luxuries his poor family could not afford. So when he had first used them again he found the flowery scents of the soaps and oils very off-putting. Now however, he loved the smell of lavender and other wildflowers used to give the soaps their scent.
While he was scrubbing the soap off himself a knock came at the door. Without waiting for a reply, a serving woman in blue and red livery strode into the chambers, nearly making Boro jump to his feet before he realized that would put himself, and the serving woman, in a pretty awkward situation.
Instead Boro, covertly, covered his genitals with his hands hoping that, and the bubbles in the water, would be enough to protect his privacy. The serving woman was on the older side, and was a good looking woman, and she smiled at Boro's attempt at modesty. She did not look away, avert her eyes, or make any attempt at all to hide the fact that she had, indeed, seen everything.
"Young Master, Lord Jetir has requested you join him in the Lords Chambers" When Boro nodded but did not move she added, with her smile widening even more, "Now, if you please young master, he was very little patiance for waiting"
Boro turned bright red but did as he was bid, standing up from the copper basin. If she was going to play this game, then Boro would not back down. Uncovering himself, he stepped out of the basin and walked, calmly, to his pile of clothes. They had been freshly laundered and left for him over the previous night. The serving woman, a lifetime of serving this family, was all courteous and professionalism. Without rushing, he put on his clothes, carefully avoiding eye contact with the woman who was openly eyeing him from head to toe.
Boro had spent most of his childhood plowing fields with his grandfather and tending to livestock. Such activities had left him very physically fit, and to compound that he had spent his youth swinging a sword. So Boro had the physique of a lifelong workman and warrior. He was lean and muscular, obtaining a level of fitness not usual for a young man of his age.
The pretty serving woman saw this and though she had spent many years serving this family she could not help but blush at the hard planes of his body, and the slopes of his sinewy arms. Before long both she, and Boro himself, were a bright crimson hue.
"Please follow me to the Lords sitting chamber" Her voice husky with embarrassment.
She led Boro though the large manor, her steps brisk but unhurried. Every now and then she looked back at Boro, as if she thought he might wonder off on his own down the wrong corridor. After a few minutes she had led him to a huge door, with two guards standing at attention outside. One of the guards knocked and then after a couple seconds, opened the door and peeked his head inside. The guard looked back out to the corridor and told Boro to enter.
Before he entered the room he turned around to thank the serving woman and before she turned and walked away she gave Boro a stunning smile and a wink, and then took off into the depths of the mansion.
Face flushed, Boro walked into the chamber and found Lord Jetir sitting behind a desk, a small fire crackling in the huge fireplace behind him.
"Master Boro, please have a seat" He said waving to the chair in front of the solid wood desk.
The wood looked ancient and regal. Light brown staining decorated the surface of the well polished desk. Intricate swirls embellished every inch of its veneer.
Boro took the seat indicated and waited patiently for Jetir to speak.
"I will be upfront with you young master" He said after a minute of silence. "I need your assistance."
"There have been whispers of revolt in the southern lands of Galaos" Lord Jetir said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The King has requested all his vassal lords to gather their forces and crush this rebellion before it can grow into something more."
Lord Jetir looked up at Boro after making this shocking statement.
Another rebellion?, Boro thought to himself dumbfounded.
The last rebellion against the King had resulted in his fathers downfall, and had cost Galaos hundreds of thousands of lives. And what assistance would Boro be able to provide to this Lord. He had no real experience with combat outside of duels and the bandit attack. Surely Lord Jetir did not want Boro to lead his forces or fight for him. Did he?
"I would like you to go to the southlands and speak with this would be King and his usurpers." Lord Jetirs' intensity increased. And Boro had a bad feeling he knew where this conversation was taking him. " As you probably know, things under King Galave have not been great for the small folk, taxes are at an all time high and the king has stirred up trouble between Galaos and the Kingdom of Aradia."
"It is only a matter of time before the people of Galaos are dragged into another futile war" Lord Jetir said, shaking his head. "Too long have the people of Galaos had to fight in futile wars, over what?!"
His voice began to rise and fill with heat. His eyes, that had been calm and collected moments before, were filled with anger and something else too.
Was that sadness, or perhaps fear? Boro thought.
"Too many of our great people have been lost over the last twenty years." Lord Jetir had reigned in his emotion. His voice had dropped to normal and then again to nearly a whisper, "Perhaps it is time for a new King, one who will stand for all the people of Galaos, and for Korone as a whole too"
Lord Jetir looked back in to Boros' eyes. "Your father was an honorable man, and died fighting a war he did not agree with" His voice, while still soft was filled with icy rage. "And for his reward his descendants were cast aside and his name wrote in the annals of infamy, is that justice?"
Once again Lord Jetirs eye's took ahold of Boros', he stood up placing both palms flat against the top of his desk, " Boro Malus, Son of Bora Malus the Great, will you help me avenge my friend, your father, and topple this tyrant king?"