Beau Bergeron cursed having to follow the wizard’s servant. The thing moved so swiftly that he and his crossbowmen could barely follow him. The storm made this activity that much worse. The bowmen were hand-picked specifically for the task, having been trained by his hand, and loyal to Beau himself rather than “The Flying Eorman” as the Selkies had taken to calling Lafitte.
The woods here were treacherous, full of roots and vines and thorns to hasten a man’s end. But the real treachery was what followed their winding path. Beau Bergeron had trained these bowmen for a reason. Though his burning desire was to return home, the assassin was ever the pragmatist. The bowmen were prepared to foment a planned mutiny. If Beau was cursed to this world, he would take it on with his own terms. With a ship of his own. And that ship would’ve been La Danse Calinda itself had the Blood Arcana not fallen within his grasp.
But as the servant made his trickster moves, something became clear: Thimble was trying to keep him and his men in the dark. This was now his mission. The army that Beau longed for was now going to be in the lesser being’s hands. Treachery was indeed going to take place, though not against Lafitte. Thimble had to die.
“Alright then. Who’s with me eh?” But the Selkie’s servant would get no answer to his question. Beau held up his hand as they stopped by the river bank. He then made a cutting motion in the air to his followers.
The only response the servant would get would be arrows fired at his face.
Captain Jean Lafitte III puffed away on his cigarette, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d already been betrayed. Unlike his own servant, Lafitte loved his adopted homeland, he was a king here (or if not a king, definitely unique). He liked having a virtually competition-free pirating operation, as well as the system that facilitated it. He liked not owing protection money to any this world’s various guilds. He even liked the odd-tasting herb these people smoked, compared to his native tobacco.
With these thoughts in mind, he boarded his ship along with his guests, his partners in this operation, the three Ereonis Brothers. Just as much as them, this had become his home too, and he feared for its safety. The Blood Arcana was a threat no matter which side of the law one lived on, and more than simply doing this operation for profit, the Captain was now himself in the service of the Grand Navigators, and indeed the rest of this world.
And so with the rain and wind of Manawydden’s storm pouring down over the brim of his hat, Lafitte turned to Jeneyeru, “D’ami, if you would care to join me in my quarters, we can begin the preparations for our assault.”
With a smile, Lafitte motioned for the others to follow.