The port city of the Webi Empire...
Even orders from the empress and personal supervision from the head of the trade campaign didn't help the invasion fleet to assemble on time, so Maser, who had already prepared everything long ago, was sitting in the pub drinking beer.
"Can I get you another?" The waitress asked, eyeing the next customer with a finicky look.
"No, I have business today," the girl just nodded and half-heartedly pounded the bones of another customer greedy for tips.
"And I see you consider yourself immortal." The voice was heard from behind, Maser turned round, in front of him in an unremarkable cloak stood his boss - the head of the Webian trading company.
"You shouldn't be here, it's a dangerous place." Maser spoke calmly, but he was quite surprised, it was the first time he had seen Rigord in such a cheap eatery.
"I know, but this is even more interesting, you better tell me, how are things going?" Rigord gestured to the waitress and gave her a solid coin and told her to bring the best wine.
"And I'm just that, the loading is almost finished, the departure will be tonight." He sipped a sip of the cheap beer and continued, glancing warily at Rigord.
"You think you're immortal, don't you?"
"What are you talking about?" Rigord twitched his eyebrow angrily, suggesting that Maser was forgetting himself, he only nodded his head slightly, pointing to the bar, where a waitress was already standing, opening a foggy unlabelled bottle.
"Fate respects the brave," said Rigord and intercepted a mug with a red drink of dubious origin, holding his breath he took a big sip, a slight cramp passed over the man's face, but he put on a playful smile.
"Maser you go on, go on, I'm very curious, what happened at the officers' meeting?"
"Nothing much, except for the fact that I had to shout over a hundred captains, but I didn't see the prince or any of his lackeys." Rigord sighed dejectedly in response and took another sip.
"Kha, , Kha, Kha," the man choked and bent over the table coughing.
"Rigord, just accept the fact that the sweet life has spoilt you." With an acerbic smirk, Maser commented on his superior's exertions.
"It's just that you get used to good things, especially if they are good wine." Both of them smiled, though Rigord was Maser's boss, but their relations could be called friendly, Rigord had helped his negligent savage out of difficult situations more than once, and the latter always pleased him with exemplary tasks, thanks to which Rigord literally climbed up the career ladder.
"Do you know where the prince is now?" Maser's sudden question knocked his companion out of his rut.
"I was hoping you knew. So we have a problem, a very big problem. We need to find him, and I've already been charged for delaying the mission for two days, if I miscalculate again, I won't get off with a simple reprimand."
"Don't worry, if heads were chopped off for every delay in our empire's navy, then only headless ships would go to sea." In his dreams, Masser hoped that the prince would never be found and he would sail across the ocean without him.
"Maser, let's go, time is of the essence," both of them finished their drinks in a couple of gulps and threw a silver coin on the table and silently left.
"So where to find this imbecile?" No sooner had the men left the building than Maser lit a cigarette, enveloping his partner in bitter smoke.
"Let me see, if you were a pampered, rich mama's boy, where would you go in a small harbour town?"
"I'd go to bed, but that's just me, I'm getting old," Rigord did not appreciate the humour and rubbing his aching temples, stopped a passing coachman.
"Where to, my lord?"
"To the best brothel!" The coachman nodded silently, and they both got into the covered carriage.
"You're not a poor chap, you know. Will you stop smoking that stuff?" The smell was very peculiar, as if someone was burning rotten carrion.
"I don't know, it's the custom in my homeland, don't moan too much, or your hair will fall out," Rigord wanted to respond to the impertinence, but suddenly changed his mind and stared out the window.
"My lord, we are almost there," the town was small and usually not more than 10000 people lived in it, but now it was full of people, soldiers and sailors, who had received the deposit, were actively drinking it.
When the coachman caught a coin from a passenger, he bowed and went to his own place. In front of the men stood an old but rather large three-storey building, with a sign of a shot heart above the exit, the building did not accommodate all those who wanted to have fun and around small crowds stood drunken soldiers that were actively drinking with prostitutes, from time to time someone took one of the girls in the alley under the approving shouts of comrades, for everyone knows what purposes.
The duo entered the building, 'Bang,' the drunken body rolled down the stairs, smearing his face on all the steps, Maser looked up to see a man in the uniform of a royal guard standing on the first floor, 'We found it, and I thought we were dead'. Before Rigord could finish his thought a jug flew into the guardsman's head, shattering with a smashing sound. 'Or is it the end?' - he surmised.
The man had obviously not expected such a trick and lost his balance and fell and rolled down after the previous loser, he was almost back on his feet, but apparently today was not the day and the falling guard knocked him down. Both bodies ended up sprawled on the dirty floor.
Rigord and Maser looked at each other in silence and rushed upstairs, sabres drawn. The first floor greeted them with a real drunken mass brawl, soldiers, guardsmen and locals clashed with each other in corridors and rooms, hitting another drunkard in the jaw with his garde, Maser moved forward Rigord followed silently behind him.
"Where is Prince Edward?" Rigord asked the very drunk but still on his feet guard, he wanted to send them away, but Rigord realised the complexity of the situation and took off his hood showing the man his face.
"Er... he's on the third floor, third door on the left." In a single breath, the guardsman blurted out, luckily he wasn't the target of the search, and the two men rushed to the third floor, dodging empty bottles flying in all directions.
The door was found quickly, 'Good thing they're signed here,' Rigord pushed on the knob, but it wouldn't budge, the man only increased the pressure as Rigord struggled with the door, Maser beating another drunken body.
"What took you so long?"
"Try it yourself!" Rigord said angrily.
"Come on," Maser pushed the chief away and hit the place where the upper hinge was fastened. The blow was so strong that for a moment the rumbling and cracking of wood drowned out the chaos going on around.
"Ladies first," Maser said ironically. Rigord only sighed dejectedly and entered the room.
The room was a mess, three dead drunken bodies in rich clothes lying on the floor, showing no signs of life.
After a quick inspection of the room the prince was not found, "Well, let's go on," Rigord was about to leave, Maser only shook his head and answered.
"He who seeks will always find, and I am also lazy to go somewhere," said the savage, approaching the bed, behind which slept another body.
"Rigord, you tell me how this imbecile was appointed to command a whole fleet, he can't even handle a bottle." Maser covered his face with his hand, trying not to laugh.
"It'll be easier for you, just keep the kid on the glass and act on your own."
"We'll figure it out as we go, so what do we do with him now?"
"I've been walking under the sky with you for days." Rigord slipped his hand into his pocket and took out a small glass bottle with a dark blue liquid.
"You didn't waste it on me like that!" Maser said with feigned offence, lifting the prince's head above the ground. Edward opened his eyes, not fully realising what was happening, he slowly swivelled his eyes, stopping briefly to look at the two men.
"Your majesty are you alright?" Rigord asked, offering his hand.
"I'm fine, just a little headache, who are you and what are you doing here?"
"I am the head of the Webian Trading Company" Rigord, and this is my subordinate captain of the first rank - Maser, you didn't show up to the officers' meeting and we decided to start looking for you.
"I've been busy," Edward said, rising to his feet.
"Your Majesty, what happened here?" Maser came out from behind him.
"I decided to let my men rest before I set off, but this fucking earl has taken the best quarters in this gudoshnik, and he refuses to give in to me, you wretched worm! I'm a prince of this country and this pile of filth dares to refuse me, I couldn't stand such an insult to my status."
"My men threw him out into the street in his native dirt, where he belongs, but this cockroach did not rest and gathered a bunch of thieves and vagrants and put up a fight, I don't remember further." The men listened to the story, Rigord trying to keep his face straight, but Maser could hardly contain his laughter.
"Your Majesty, are you all right?" fresh and sober guardsmen stood on the threshold of the room, the men looked warily at Maser, who by reflex put his hand on the hilt of his sabre.
"Man, take your hand off!" Shouted one of the guardsmen.
"Or what?"
"Enough!" Edward and Rigord shouted at the same time.
"I was just starting to warm up."