Welcome to the Heart Pyre. This is the first of two bonus episodes focusing on what Logan and Finn have been up to while away from the rest of the group. I apologize that I had to take a break in the middle of the season. I’ve just started a new job and since this is a solo project, I’ve had to readjust my time quite a bit. I’m hopeful that the season will continue soon after the bonus episodes though, so enjoy this little side escapade in the meantime.
[SFX gas hissing]
Logan entered the room they’d rented at the inn and let the satchel slide from his shoulder, dropping it onto the bed next to Finn. He sat down at the foot of his own bed and toed out of his shoes before crossing his legs. Finn looked at the bag in confusion, a frown slowly forming on his face. He was sitting with his back to the wall, legs angled up, his coat folded neatly to his right.
LOGAN: Where’s Rena?
[small pause]
FINN: She left for the library.
LOGAN: Already? Well, I guess I was gone longer than anticipated.
FINN: I didn’t hear you leave this morning.
LOGAN (nonchalant): I can be sneaky.
FINN: You left quite early. Where did you go?
LOGAN: Just got us some new clothes.
FINN: New clothes?
LOGAN: Yeah, you know, we’ve been walking around in the ones we’re wearing for long enough. My nose tells me it’s time for some change.
FINN (mistrustful): You were gone all morning to buy us clothes?
LOGAN: It takes time to find true quality in this city.
Finn stared at him for a moment but didn’t say anything. Logan stared back, a pleasant smile on his lips. They both knew that Logan wasn’t telling the whole truth but would Finn think it important enough to start an argument over it?
[SFX clothes rustle]
He reluctantly turned his attention towards the satchel and slowly reached for it as if it might bite. He unlaced the top and reached in, pulling out a long red dress with black, beaded embroidery at the hem. The dress, however, had clearly lived a rich life before ending up in Logan’s satchel – the colour had already faded and some of the beads were missing.
LOGAN: That one’s for Rena. Tried to find something that wasn’t too long so she wouldn’t trip over it, but I’m sure we can make it fit somehow. I could try to rehem it if it’s really necessary.
Finn pulled out a shawl that matched the dress, then a pair of simple, blue trousers that had some very easily fixable holes near the waistband.
FINN: These aren’t new, or… true quality. Where did you find them?
LOGAN: In a store. Rich people throw their old clothes away when they don’t like them anymore, others rescue them from their tragic fate before the smell becomes unbearable, and we are the lucky ones who get to spend money to own someone else’s rubbish.
A look of disgust darting over Finn’s face for only a second.
FINN: [mumbling] Someone else’s rubbish. (small pause, louder) You had enough money on you to buy clothes for six people? Even if it is… this?
Logan leaned back on his elbows. He almost stopped as pain shot through his abdomen but he pushed through, reminding himself of all the times he’d been in much worse pain. He smiled at Finn, hoping it would mask the grimace his face wanted to contort into. The morning’s efforts didn’t agree much with his wound but he didn’t want anyone to worry about him, it would just waste too much time.
He was fine. Valentina’s paste had done its job and he’d found another healer in Hrevim who’d given him something against his pain. There wasn’t much else he could do but wait for it to heal. And hope he didn’t somehow make it worse.
LOGAN: No, but I have my ways. You don’t really need to know the details of how I acquired them. And if we’re going to the palace, we need to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Keep digging, you’ll find something for you.
He also didn’t want Finn to notice how light his head felt from the healer’s brew. It had gotten rid of most of his pain, and he was very thankful for that, but he could have done without the effect it had on his perception of the world.
FINN (mumbling): We’re not going to blend in wearing rubbish.
LOGAN: It’s not that bad, they got washed before I bought them. You can barely tell anymore that they’re rubbish.
Finn turned his attention back to the satchel and eyed it wearily before pulling out the rest of the clothes. He found a long coat, similar in style to his own, but a rich yellow instead of his usual blue.
LOGAN: It’s like yours, the colours are just reversed.
Indeed, Logan had picked it precisely because it had reminded him so much of Finn’s. Where the blue coat had gold stitches outlining the lapel and pockets, the yellow coat had similar deep blue details.
FINN (unsure): Thank you. [pause] It barely looks used.
LOGAN: Couldn’t have you running around looking like a common peasant, your highness.
Finn stiffened for a second, then shot daggers at Logan.
LOGAN: I’m serious. It’ll be easy for you to fit in at the palace if your clothes look the part. You’ve already got the attitude, no one’s going to question your presence. I’m sure some of them will recognise you anyway, your lordship. And I wasn’t sure if Rena wanted to join us but I’m positive she could have made the red dress work, even if it looks a bit old. [flirtatious] But I suppose it’s just going to be the two of us after all.
FINN (mumbling): So it seems.
Finn pulled the coat closer. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, the expression on his face shifting in contemplation.
FINN: The fabric is different.
LOGAN: [sucks teeth] Is it… a bad fabric?
[pause]
FINN: No, just a different texture. I’ll get used to it.
LOGAN: Alright, if you say so. But I could get you a new one if you don’t like it.
FINN (unsure, some disdain): It’s just a coat.
LOGAN: Well, I also got you new trousers. There are some brown ones I think would fit best with the coat. They’ve also got the fewest holes. Only the best for his majesty, of course.
As Finn reached for the brown trousers his hand recoiled the moment he touched the fabric. He froze, his hand hovering above the bag.
[small pause]
LOGAN: Or you can use the beige ones.
[small pause]
FINN (dismissive): I just got a shock. There must be some tension in the air.
Finn reached back into the bag, gripping the trousers tightly and pulling them out, before a shudder visibly ran through his whole body and he let go of them again.
LOGAN (slightly concerned): Are you sure?
[small pause]
FINN (dismissive): Don’t be ridiculous, it’s just fabric. I will get used to it when I wear it. [pause] But maybe the beige trousers would look better with the coat.
LOGAN: I can assure you, either of them would look fantastic on you.
Finn shot him another look before carefully reaching back into the satchel and pulling out a third pair of trousers. He stopped for a moment, then pulled them closer and rubbed the fabric between his fingers.
LOGAN: It’s unfortunate that those got some stains but the coat should hide them.
The back of the trousers had light, green-ish stains, clearly from someone sitting in grass and finding themselves unable to get their unfortunate mistake out of the fabric. The stains were barely visible in the weak light of the gas lamp but who knew what daylight would reveal.
FINN: These will do fine.
He held them high and folded them before placing them on the bed next to his blue coat. He picked up the yellow coat, folded it, and placed it on top of the trousers.
FINN: I’ve been thinking about how we should approach the palace.
LOGAN: Brilliant. Tell me all about it.
FINN (pensive): Even if we were to get hold of the palace’s records, I’m unsure how beneficial they would be to us. As far as I recall, captain Silac has never worked in Baedan. There might be some reports of his interactions with the local guards but I doubt they’d be all too useful. At least not in proportion to the risk we’d be putting ourselves into by breaking into their hall of records.
LOGAN: Makes sense.
FINN (pensive): I don’t think our plan to go to the palace is a waste of time, however. We need to find out what Silac wants and why he’s associating with the Crow and while we won’t find any written proof of it, I’m sure we can find some of his acquaintances at the palace who might be able to enlighten us.
LOGAN: I know how to draw all those dirty, little secrets out of people.
FINN: I’m counting on that, actually. [hesitant] I’m not sure I would be the best person for the job.
LOGAN: Don’t worry about it. Just tell me where to strike and I’ll be your honey-laced viper.
FINN (pensive): We’ll need an excuse for why we’re accosting these people about Silac. I won’t be able to adopt a new identity. As you already mentioned, at the very least, a handful of people would recognize me, but we can still give you a new name. Someone with a high enough rank to justify your presence at the palace.
LOGAN (flirty): Your paramour.
FINN: We need something more believable.
LOGAN: Ouch.
FINN (pensive): A minor son of nobility. From the North perhaps. Somewhere far enough that the fewest people might be familiar with the regional nobility.
LOGAN: How about Jodash? That’s small and unimportant enough as a province.
FINN: I wouldn’t exactly call it unimportant, definitely not these last few years, but it might not be a bad idea to pick it. It hasn’t been the strongest province historically. Are you familiar with its nobility?
LOGAN: Familiar enough. The rest I can just make up.
~~~
[SFX gas hissing fades out, ocean and seagull sounds fade in in background, crowd noises fade in]
Logan and Finn left the inn shortly after mulling over the details of their plan. The yellow coat and beige pants fit Finn quite well. Logan had also bought them simple, white shirts, and even though they were all too big for Finn, they found one that wouldn’t make him look too unkempt. Finn had contemplated whether he should bring his rapier, then decided against it, even if not having it on him made him feel uneasy. There was just no reason for a diplomatic visitor to the palace to have a weapon on them.
Logan wore the dark blue trousers, tucking the cuffs into his old boots to hide the fact they were much too long. He paired the trousers with a green, embroidered vest that had a badly mended tear in the back, and a dark blue cape that hung over his left shoulder.
They marched straight to the palace, walking with determination as if they had an important meeting. The fortress stood higher than the rest of Hrevim, built centuries ago on a small hill with the city growing around it. With constant renovations, it barely showed its age. The white walls still shone brightly in the sun as if no fleck of dust or dirt had ever dared touch it. A cobbled path – red and white stones forming an intricate pattern – led to massive cast iron doors that probably remained of the palace’s first iteration. They stood wide open, two guards standing to either side of them as masses of visitors flooded into the first vestibule.
[SFX ocean and seagull sounds fade a bit, crowd gets louder, faint songbird noises]
Logan and Finn let the flow move them forward into the open room. Another set of massive doors led towards the inner court while to either side closed, guarded doors barred entrance to the actual palace. Logan guided Finn into the court with a light touch, weaving a way through the crowd for them. The centre held a garden large enough to fit an entire village. It had already been decorated for tide-bringings, with thin poles jutting out of the ground every few metres to which red fish-shaped streamers had been attached high in the air. Several metal sculptures of fire mackerels had been placed around the garden, their motion conveying a feeling that a swarm was circling around the court.
Grapes of visitors stood in deep conversation no matter where you looked, even deep inside the garden. Balconies on the inner side of the square building surrounded the court and held further flocks of people, looking down upon the ones unworthy of entering the palace proper. Blue, white, and red ribbons had been tied between the balconies, hanging down into the inner court.
FINN (unnerved): I knew Viscount Zarkid liked company, just not to this extent.
LOGAN (almost derisive): He really still uses Viscount?
FINN: It’s a historic title tied to the region. There’s no reason to abandon it.
LOGAN: It just sounds a bit pompous, don’t you think? Everyone else is just a lord or lady.
FINN: Not everyone. Jodash has an exalted count.
LOGAN: And that guy must be really arrogant.
FINN: Never met him. And Lailad isn’t lord of Vellashta either. Her title’s simply administrator of records even if her duties include overseeing the entire province.
LOGAN: Look at you being all important and on a first name basis with the administrator.
FINN (salty muttering): She basically raised me, I’d better be able to call her by her first name.
LOGAN: Raised you? Interesting. I like getting to know these little crumbs of knowledge about you. It’s like a puzzle with gilded edges.
FINN (slightly annoyed): [sigh] We’re not here to discuss my upbringing or the kingdom’s politics. [small pause] (unsure) I’m not sure how to proceed, however. I hadn’t imagined this place flooded by visitors to such an extent. Tide-bringings’s only in a few days.
LOGAN: What do you mean? This is great! So many people we can talk to!
FINN (disdainful): Too many. We’ll just waste our time talking to the wrong people.
LOGAN: There’s no such thing as the wrong person when you’re trying to gather information. Everyone’s got something to tell. You just need to identify the chattiest ones and let them lead you to those who actually hold power at this court.
FINN: That sounds… exhausting.
LOGAN: That’s why it’s my job and not yours. You just stand around looking all pretty and important and wait for me to come back to you.
[small pause]
FINN: That still sounds like a waste of time.
LOGAN: If you have a better plan to get us into this stupidly massive building, I’m all ears. Cause I think what we actually want to do is be up there on those balconies.
FINN: Or inside the building.
LOGAN: Sure, but talking to the highest echelons of nobility won’t actually be helpful to us. We need to find the ones who gossip, the ones who have the connections but also have enough time to chat to random strangers. Those who have nothing better to do all day than to soak up rumours like a sea sponge that’s been stranded on a beach for a week.
FINN: The people I generally try to avoid.
LOGAN (with a smile): And my best friends on days like these.
FINN: How do we find them?
LOGAN: By observing the crowd. Identify those who are looking around and talking in hushed voices. Listening in to their conversations as we stroll through the garden. Make ourselves a mental map of who’s who. Do you recognise any of them?
FINN: A few.
LOGAN: Good. Tell me about the ones you deem most important. And not important to the kingdom, the ones you hate the most for being nosy.
~~~
Logan set the pace as they first wandered around the garden and then through it. Finn had a tendency to walk quickly and it was evident by the tension in his body that their leisurely pace was agony to him, especially paired with the mass of people surrounding them.
Logan regarded the visitors present in the inner court through the corners of his eyes, using this first lap to gather information while Finn told him what he knew about these people. He had to concentrate much harder than usual as the healer’s tincture was still messing with his head and the general noise of the place didn’t help him either.
He had half a mind to interlock his arm with Finn’s but he wasn’t so ignorant to think that the gesture would be appreciated. So instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and only leaned towards Finn close enough to hear him speak, but far enough that it didn’t look like they were conspiring.
The inner court was clearly the place to be if you thought you were someone in Hrevim. It seemed to Logan that everyone who even had the most remote claim to nobility had gathered in this garden. What they’d hoped to gain here, he wasn’t sure, but he figured they just had nothing better to do in life.
He’d identified a few groups that he might want to accost – the snickering ones whose eyebrows raised anytime someone walked past. He just wasn’t sure yet how to approach them so they’d be willing to talk to him. If he seemed too eager, they’d shut him out, or worse, call the guards. If he seemed too dull, they’d simply ignore him. Too interesting, and they’d waste all his time trying to figure out who he was. No, he’d need to slip into their conversation without them noticing. His head just refused to think clearly enough to come up with a viable plan.
An older woman entered the court and most people’s attention instantly gravitated towards her. The court fell silent for just a moment, barely noticeable, before the murmuring resumed. Even with just a glance, Logan could tell that she was someone.
LOGAN (whisper): Who’s that?
FINN (whisper, hesitant): I’m not actually sure.
She had dark olive skin with piercing eyes the colour of a summer sky. Her curly, blond hair had been pinned up into twists, only a few strands falling down her shoulders. She walked past all the hungry eyes pretending not to look at her, two servants hurrying after her as she crossed the court and headed towards a door at the back.
LOGAN (whisper, bit excited): And that’s exactly who we needed.
FINN (whispering, confused): Why?
LOGAN (whisper): Because everyone will want to gossip about her and once we got them talking, we can learn all kinds of things from them.
[small pause]
FINN (whisper, unsure): Why her?
LOGAN (whisper): Because she wants to be seen and everyone’s more than happy to comply. She could have used the doors in the vestibule to enter the palace. Instead, she chose to walk through the busy court to head inside. There’s something brewing here, we just have to find out what.
Logan and Finn’s adventure will conclude in the next episode.
If you like this podcast, consider leaving a review or supporting it on Ko-Fi or Patreon. You can also get the novelization of the first season as an ebook and paperback from most major retailers.
You can find transcripts for each episode, character art, and a map of the kingdom on theheartpyre.com.
The intro music is Lonely Dusty Trail by Jon Presstone.
The Heart Pyre is written and produced by me, Audrey Martin.
Thank you for listening.
The Heart Pyre 