Chapter 148: Mr. Ambassador
The doors of the Moonlight Moss burst open, and a gust of cold air swirled into the hall, causing the diners to look up in annoyance. They were met with the sight of a youth striding past, a man dangling from his grip like a sack of grain. Before anyone could process the scene, the pair had vanished up the stairs.
"Who in the gods' name is that? Utterly uncouth. Acts like a Skellige savage," a nobleman in fine silks complained, covering his mouth as he watched Arthur's retreating back. "The standards of this establishment are plummeting. First, that bard holds a raucous ball, and now it's become a den for kidnappers!"
His companion, a sharp-eyed young man, chuckled with genuine interest. "You don't know? That's the one who plucked the Princess from the clutches of the dryads a few days ago. Word is, he's a Throne Knight."
The nobleman produced a snuffbox and took a sharp inhale. "A-choo! Don't talk rot. The Verdeners have been warring with those tree-nymphs for a decade without gaining an inch. How could a stripling like that snatch anyone back?"
"Could you stop snorting that filth? It's revolting," the sharp-eyed youth said, leaning away in disgust. He frowned. "I'm not talking rot. Did you see the man he was carrying?"
"Just some poor kidnapped soul. As a nobleman, I cannot simply sit by and watch such criminality unfold before my eyes—I'm leaving. Are you coming?"
"Go if you like, I'm staying for the show!" The young man's eyes danced with excitement. "The fellow he just hauled upstairs was wearing the black-and-gold checkered crest of Verden on his chest! He's part of their diplomatic mission, for certain!"
Ignoring the growing commotion below, Arthur hurried to the second floor and pounded on the door of the Golden Dragon and his daughter.
"Borch! Borch! I've brought back that specimen you wanted!"
"This had better be important. A man needs his rest..." After a full minute of knocking, Borch finally pulled the door open, looking disgruntled and still heavy with sleep.
"Resting? Still?" Arthur was genuinely shocked.
When he had left this morning, he'd seen Borch hand Saskia over to Geralt and Dandelion before crawling back into his room to nap. It seemed an entire day had passed and the Great Lazy Dragon still hadn't had his fill.
He hoisted the half-conscious Verden ambassador and thrust him toward Borch like a prize apple. "Check this one. He just tried to declare war on an entire street with only a dozen guards."
Borch perked up instantly, his sleepiness replaced by curiosity. "No sane man would do that. You suspect Corve has tampered with his mind?"
Arthur nodded, casting a one-way acoustic barrier around the room. "Start quickly. We haven't much time."
The Golden Dragon placed a large hand atop the ambassador's head, asking casually, "Why? Is someone chasing you?"
Arthur felt a sudden urge to kick the lazy dragon aside and do it himself, but since Triss's Book of Illusions was woefully thin on mental arcana, he had to bite his tongue and urge him on. "The man is the Verden ambassador. I snatched him right off Blacksmith Street. By now, his people are likely halfway to the palace to lodge a formal protest..."
Before Arthur could finish his sentence, a rhythmic knock sounded at the door.
"Arthur? Are you in there?"
It was Mousesack. Since escorting Ciri back, the old druid had been persuaded to stay on as the Princess's tutor.
"How did they get here so fast?!"
Borch jumped, his heart skipping a beat. As a Golden Dragon, he could clearly sense the distinct, earthy aura of a powerful druid even through the heavy oak door.
"I have to leave! Immediately! We'll have to do the research later—druids can see right through my human guise!"
Borch scrambled to the window, throwing it open. He was about to leap when he remembered Saskia hadn't returned yet. He froze on the sill, turning back to shout a meeting place to Arthur, only to see the young knight pulling the door wide open. Borch felt his brain throb with a dull hum.
"You...!"
Watching the white-haired old druid step calmly into the room, Borch felt a massive headache brewing.
Druids didn't necessarily harbor hatred or greed toward dragons, but in the eyes of these naturalists, a dragon appearing inside a city was practically a declaration of war against the local ecosystem.
Borch raised a hand, ready to plead his case. "Listen, I'm just here to see the human world. I'm not looking for trouble—"
But Mousesack merely offered a polite nod of acknowledgement toward him before turning his full attention to Arthur.
"Hmm. First, you kidnap the Verden Ambassador, then you hide a Golden Dragon in your inn. If word got out, who do you think the public would blame for the massacre at Rombach village?"
Borch stared at Mousesack in surprise. The druid was calm, his tone light—nothing like the old fossils Borch had encountered before. Those fanatics usually spent their time leaning on oak staves, their wrinkled faces contorted in misery as they told everyone: Everything you're doing is wrong; you're destroying nature; if you don't change, the world will end in two thousand years (or a thousand, or three hundred).
Arthur gave a brief summary of the situation and then turned to the Verden Ambassador.
"Mr. Ambassador, you wouldn't want King Eist to find out you were hauled here because you tried to steal his property, would you?"
The druid's presence seemed to give the Ambassador a sliver of backbone. He stiffened his neck and barked, "Nonsense! I saw a magnificent greatsword and merely wished to purchase it as a gift for my King, only to be kidnapped by you without provocation!"
Arthur didn't get angry. Instead, he began counting off his fingers with a menacing grin.
"Actually, when King Eist placed that order with us, he did so in front of every blacksmith on the street. Let me count the witnesses... Old Bucklough, Big-belly Hann, Casimir..."
Beads of sweat began to roll down the Ambassador's cheeks. Suddenly, his eyes went wide and he cried out:
"Rumors! Absolute slander! To say I was kidnapped is a wicked lie invented solely to drive a wedge between Cintra and Verden! The truth is, I felt an immediate kinship with this fine young man and insisted on coming here for a private, late-night chat!"
Arthur patted the Ambassador's head a few times and smiled at Mousesack. "See? Problem solved."
"Always with the crooked schemes," Mousesack huffed, though he didn't press the matter. He turned his gaze toward Borch. "I wasn't aware you'd made friends with a dragon, Arthur."
Arthur grabbed the old druid by the shoulders and pushed him toward the Ambassador. "Forget that for a second. Take a close look—do you sense that same vile magic inside this man's head?"
As Mousesack narrowed his eyes, Arthur continued, "Back in my homeland, we have a saying: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Mr. Borch was also a victim of Corve's schemes. He's planning to develop a spell to detect who is under Corve's control so we can follow the trail and pull that snake out by the roots!"