Talmot heaved his lunch over the starboard side of the boat as he had done so every day of the voyage since leaving Ibudal. He was beginning to become skeptical if he would ever grow sea legs. The journey to Ovandale should only take a week from Ibudal, but to Talmot, it was a lifetime. He was grateful they would be reaching land today.
"I can ease your sickness if you like," the witch stated, it was not a nicety more a statement of fact.
"You will keep your magic off of me until it is time to put the disguise in place," he told her flatly. Talmot hated magic almost as much as he hated sailing on the sea. The witch shrugged and made her way to a different part of the ship. He could see her geometrical neck tattoo as she walked away, her grey robe fluttering behind her. He knew the black color of the tattoo indicated she signed a contract with the King of Ibudal, but he had yet to memorize the different colors for other Lords in the kingdom. He hadn't been in Stavorden, the Ibudali capital, more than a few months before being assigned to his first mission as their new general.
He adjusted his armor and tried to loosen the cowl at his neck to allow more airflow. He had been clammy since setting foot on the ship. Talmot didn't care for the Ibudali uniform, preferring the lighter feel of the Meran armor. He hadn't drawn his sword in battle in over twenty years but still practiced with it regularly, finding the bulky Ibudali armor more cumbersome. He was getting older, and while his skills were as sharp as they had ever been, his black hair now graying at the temples reminded him his fighting days were limited.
He did, however, prefer the amount of gold he was salaried now that he was employed by King Undair. The King had been too interested in any information Talmot had about Ovandale and their protectors when the Meran queen abdicated her throne and turned her country and armies over to him. It was even Talmot who had suggested they use groups of witches on each ship to calm the cursed sea so they could travel there. He had quickly gained favor at court in Ravin-Sha and was consulting with King Undair within a month of arriving. Despite the general's distrust of magic, he was a practical man driven by coin who knew the value of leverage.
He moved below deck, not making eye contact with a water witch on his way. Her hair flowed behind her, its blue hue matched the cloak she was wearing, representing the element she was most skilled with. Talmot found his first lieutenant Gareth in the galley, how the young man was able to tolerate the food was beyond him. The ship churned again on the ocean, sending Talmot's stomach in circles, praying he wouldn't wretch in front of his subordinate.
The lieutenant stood at attention, and Talmot waved him to be seated wordlessly reluctant to open his mouth. The general sat on a bench, hoping his insides would settle.
"General, we should reach land by nightfall." the younger man said.
"Yes." the general replied. "We have made good time, twenty boats with a hundred men should be enough to scare the farmers into surrendering."
"Will a hundred men be enough, sir?" Gareth asked him uncertainly.
"They don't have an army lieutenant. Besides, we're not going to Ovandale to take their lands forcefully, only to deliver a message from the King to the members of the Conventicle." Talmot told him gruffly, repeating the orders he was told to give the men.
Talmot had another mission, though, one that was entrusted to him, and a select few the general would be bringing with him once they reached land. First, he needed to get to Cora Delvine's farm."I still don't understand why we're going there, they don't have anything besides apples and horses. There's not even a brothel in the Capital." the lieutenant lamented, looking up at the general a sheepish expression on his face after realizing his complaint could be interpreted as questioning orders.
Truth be told, Talmot missed the brothels as well as the ale. Especially the ale. He also knew that armies only functioned properly when orders were followed without question, no matter how ridiculous the request. Talmot himself was merely crossing the sea to retrieve one girl, but it wasn't up to him to ask why.
The general got up, patting the boy on the shoulder, " Aye lad, leave the decisions to the kings and lords, and we will collect our coin."