Book 7: Chapter 3 |
I STARTED THE NEXT MORNING with stretches and my usual hygiene ritual, and finished it with a big, hearty breakfast out in the fresh air, where practically the entire camp could see me.
I did it all energetically, as if nothing strange was going on at all. In other words, I was trying to tell my people in no uncertain terms that their commander was the same man he always was. And that he was full of strength and ready for more exploits. Everybody behaved as though there was nothing noteworthy about this, but I knew for certain that by midday, word of my excellent physical health would have reached even the lowliest dogs in the camp.
As for my two-day absence... Well, is it really that surprising that he’s busy? He’s a Margrave, after all. And anyway, look — there he is, healthy and happy, eating breakfast. And judging by the amount of food on the table, he doesn’t seem to have any problems with his appetite either. What is that, if not a sign of good health?
That said, there were some in the camp who weren’t fooled by my little show.
“You look terrible, Your Lordship,” said Lada by way of a greeting as she walked over to my table.
She spoke quietly, so that nobody else could hear us.
“But I see that you’ve got a healthy appetite, at least,” she added with a laugh as she glanced around at my table.
“Good morning to you too,” I nodded as I carefully wiped my lips with a delicate lace napkin and stood up slowly and deliberately from the table.
Prior to our departure, Bertrand had supplied Gunnar with a large quantity of fancy junk like silver candlesticks and crystal goblets. The old man was of the opinion that even while on campaign, his master’s accouterments ought to reflect his dignified status as much as possible.
And give him a suitable reward, of course. At the same time, I have to say that the kid had already managed to amass quite a bit of silver during our campaign. I mean, his winnings from betting on my duel were proof enough of that. Actually, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Gunnar purchased some real estate in the merchants’ district when we returned.
Anyway — Lada was partially right. Despite my healthy appearance, I hadn’t really gotten much rest. I had to spend the entire night sitting at my desk, sketching out the webs from my memories as a werefox, and also recording everything else that my recovered memories of that life had to offer. I wanted to play it safe, just in case. You never know, right? What if I woke up the next morning and forgot everything?
I nodded to Gunnar, who hurriedly brought a chair over for Lada. With a little curtsey, the witch took a seat on the chair, and I sat back down on my field armchair.
A plate and some eating utensils appeared before Lada almost instantly, along with a crystal goblet into which Gunnar poured a light-pink Valhesian. This was the lightest wine in my collection. Aromatic and energizing, it was more like juice than an alcoholic beverage.
Lada declined the food, but she pointed Gunnar to a tray laden with fruit.
Her elegant posture, flawless knowledge of table etiquette, and a lot of other quirks in her behavior made it obvious that Lada was from an aristocratic family. True, she tried pretty hard to hide it.
I could have demanded that she tell me more about herself, but I decided to wait. The time would come eventually, and she would tell me herself.
“I wasn’t expecting an invitation to breakfast,” she turned to me with a little smile on her face after taking a little sip from her glass. “Do you need something? What do I have to do?”
“Nothing,” I said calmly. “No more assignments.”
“So...?” She tensed up. “I don’t understand...”
“Haven’t you felt it?” I asked.
Lada frowned. I was trying to detect a hint of understanding in her eyes, but all I could see was confusion.
“What should I be feeling?” She asked cautiously.
“The fact that you’re perfectly healthy,” I answered; I couldn’t help enjoying the way her eyes widened. “All the conditions of our agreement have been met. On your part and mine. Your energy system is completely restored. And I’ll tell you something else... I actually improved it. I wanted to make sure I observed it for a few days, but now I can see that everything’s fine. You are no longer under any obligation to me. Nor, for that matter, am I in regard to you.”
The witch’s hands were shaking ever so slightly. Little tears began to glisten in the corners of her eyes. She suddenly jumped up to her feet.
“So I can go?” She asked; her voice was slightly hoarse.
“As I said, you’re free,” I confirmed. “You’re at liberty to go wherever your fancy takes you. Right now, if you want.”
She was about to turn and go, but I stopped her.
“But...” I began.
“I knew there would be a “but” of some kind,” she said with disappointment. Her lips twisted into an angry grimace.
I just chuckled and shook my head:
“I’m just curious what your plans are. Have a seat... Finish this excellent wine. Enjoy the fruit. And talk to me a little before you go. I’ll repeat — nobody’s going to stand in your way at all. I always keep my word.”
Still frowning, Lada sat back down on her chair and picked up her wine glass.
“Why do you want to know all that?” She asked with a healthy dash of suspicion in her voice.
Witches, I thought... You’re all the same. Although why would that surprise me? Vadoma was exactly like this, too. Independent and free-thinking. The only thing that was sacred for a witch was her coven.
“I mean, we’re not exactly strangers, are we?” I shrugged. “You’ve been helping me, I’ve been helping you. Sure, we had a contract to seal the deal, but I am genuinely grateful for your help. Just think of this as me, checking in on a friend...”
Lada’s eyes narrowed contemptuously, and in a sarcastic tone, she asked:
“Sometimes I ask myself who’s in charge in your brain — the human or the fox?”
I just smiled silently. Heh, I thought... If only you knew how badly I wanted to know the answer to that question.
“And what answer do you usually come to?” I asked.
“Nice try,” she shook her head. “I keep my conclusions to myself.”
“But would you agree with me? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“If we’re friends, then tell me, as a friend — what the hell is happening with you?” She asked as she cocked her head to the side. “This golden aura...”
“Transfiguration,” I replied.
There was no point hiding it; Lada already knew. Besides, I knew that I would need to be absolutely frank with her if I wanted to keep our alliance going. The fact that I had become an Absolute? Well, she didn’t need to know that yet.
“But you managed to fix the problem?” She said as she quickly looked me up and down, hinting at the aura that had previously been so voracious.
“Almost,” I shook my head with a wink.
“Is this somehow related to those Frost Knights your strykers are guarding? I understand that one of them is a soulcatcher?”
“Yes,” came my laconic answer.
“Aren’t you worried that their master will come looking for them?”
“She’s no longer with us,” I replied.
The witch’s nostrils flared, which gave her the look of a vicious predator. My words were obviously music to her ears.
“You killed that accursed priestess,” she concluded with satisfaction in her voice.
“Not a priestess,” I corrected her. “She was one of the Younger Hrimthurs.”
The witch’s eyes widened again. The color left her face, and she bit down on her lip.
“Are you sure?” She croaked.
“Absolutely sure,” I replied.
“Aurings, Hrimthurs...” she said, still sounding dazed. “I thought these things were just fairy tales...”
“You might not believe it, but I did too. But anyway — have I satisfied your curiosity?”
The witch sighed, pulled herself together, and replied:
“I was planning to go back to my homeland after you finished treating me.”
“Back to family?”
“No,” she said as her face darkened. “All I have there is enemies.”
“So you’re after revenge,” I mused. “Are they powerful?”
“Yes,” she replied. “But I’d rather die trying to avenge myself than forget about everything that happened. That’s what you wanted to suggest, right? That I should forget everything and go on with my life?”
“No,” I shook my head. “But I must admit I’m a little disappointed. I put so much work into you, and now you want to go get yourself killed for no reason.”
Lada’s face erupted into an expression of rage. Her hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist around her napkin.
“You — “ She was about to start scolding me.
But I just interrupted, as though nothing had happened:
“I’ve got a proposal for you.”
The witch was obviously having a hard time keeping her composure.
“What?” She spat.
“Let’s say you postpone your return home and stay here for a little while. A couple years, maybe.”
“Why?” She asked in a tone full of hostile suspicion.
“Calm down,” I raised a hand. “Nobody’s going to force you to say. I told you — you’re free. And also, I haven’t finished yet.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want to help you,” I said with a little shrug. “I want to help you get stronger. If you follow my advice, you’ll have a chance to get revenge on your enemies and not kill yourself in the attempt.”
“Why would you help me?”
“Because it’d be beneficial for me, too.”
“Ah, I see!” Lada said with a big smile. “So there’s some self-interest at play here?”
“Well, so what if our agreement is mutually beneficial?”
“Oh, it’s an agreement already, is it?” The witch laughed. “Should we call in some witnesses again?”
“Oh, definitely,” I nodded. “I don’t agree to anything without witnesses. Especially if I’m making a deal with a witch. So? Are you willing to hear me out?”
“Why not?” She shrugged. “What do you want to offer me?”
“How would you feel about igniting your own Hearth?” I asked as I watched to see how her expression would change.
“Are you kidding?” She hissed, lowering her voice and glancing around nervously as she did so.
“Not at all,” I shook my head. “If you agree, I’ll give you whatever kind of help you need and allow you to set up shop in my lands.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re suggesting to me?” She asked. Her voice was shaking, but I could already see that there was a spark in her eyes — the kind of spark that usually starts a raging fire.
“Of course I do,” I nodded calmly. “I’m suggesting that you establish a coven of your own in my lands. And I don’t need your answer right now. Think about it for a while. And come see me when you’re ready.”
* * *
After breakfast, as an unusually pensive and silent Lada was leaving the table, I put on my best campaign suit, jumped onto Storm’s back, and headed off for the Citadel, accompanied by Sigurd and Leo von Grimm. My squire was obviously offended by the fact that he had been kept in the dark about my condition and forbidden from seeing me for two days, but he was trying not to show it.
His grumpy demeanor just amused Sigurd and me even more. All in good time, kid. Sure, I thought — you wanted to become my squire, but that doesn’t mean that you instantly became part of my inner circle. All in good time. Just be glad that I’m teaching you Mamoru Yamada’s fighting style. I knew that Lorin was gradually adjusting his thinking in the right direction anyway. And I was planning to take over in that department when the time was right.
The Sapphire Citadel was a huge fortress, built by ancient masters at the foot of a range of sheer cliffs. The Guild used it as their last redoubt in times of war, and I suspected it was probably their treasury as well.
True, there were neither treasures nor any mages from the Sapphire Guild on the premises as we approached the Citadel that day.
I was wrong about that. It turned out that they had some sort of backup exit somewhere in the bowels of the cliffs. One which the Guild’s members had used with alacrity, as soon as it became clear that the time had come to flee. And once they fled, they collapsed the tunnel, thereby closing the last remaining escape route.
In some ways, I could understand their actions — they had already been holding out for a long time. The Vestonian legionaries who were sheltering with them, and who were soon joined by the remnants of the Bergonian army, had been devouring the Guild’s stockpiled supplies for months. And not only that; somehow, they had also managed to let the Gray Reaper’s spies into the place, and carelessly lost the entrance into the valley at Chateau Gardien.
The legionaries and Bergonians tried several times to retake Chateau Gardien, but after losing their best men in the attempt, they had no choice but to abandon any further efforts in that direction.
Supplies began to run out not long thereafter. The mages cut the daily food ration. Arguments and fights started to break out between the Vestonians and the Bergonians. Commanders tried to maintain discipline as best they could, but eventually hunger, fear, and the hopelessness of the situation took their toll.
The people trapped in the Citadel (except for the mages) quickly split into two hostile camps. The Vestonians accused the Bergonians of weakness and cowardice, while the latter reminded the former about all the “fun” Prince Heinrich had had in their lands.
In the end, the situation got more and more heated, and a massacre began. Being more prepared and organized, the Vestonian legionaries defeated the Bergonians, but they lost a lot of their people in the process. The day after the massacre, everybody woke up to find that the mages had disappeared, and that they had taken some of the provisions and all of their treasure with them.
Things only got worse from there. Long story short, by the time our forces entered the Citadel, there were only about three cohorts of survivors left. They were exhausted, and weakened by hunger, but they weren’t broken yet.
Once we were inside the fortress, I headed straight for the dungeons, where my strikers were holding the Frozen Spears under careful guard.
I wasn’t going to go down into the dungeons for the conversation, though — there was plenty of room in the tower above them for a chat with the prisoners.
I was standing at one of the windows, watching the hustle and bustle in the fortress below, when the soulcatcher was brought to me. To the tune of clanking chains, my soldiers sat the prisoner down on the bench, and after a quick nod from me they turned and left.
I made a mental note to give them a bonus. Strykers were highly-trained, specialized warriors — they weren’t used to serving as jailors. But Sigurd told me that everybody understood the situation very well. These weren’t normal prisoners, either.
The soulcatcher was short and thin, with a pale, emotionless face and gray eyes that bulged ever so slightly out of his face.
I switched to true vision. Unlike his brother knights, the soulcatcher had a magical reservoir. A pretty huge one, as it happens. Apparently he had spent a lot of time developing his strange magical gift.
“So how did one of the true gifted end up working with a bunch of demon-worshippers, and helping them in their effort to wipe out his own brethren?” I asked, still standing at the window.
The soulcatcher twitched and turned to look at me with hate in his eyes. I could also see a very real note of fear in them as well. Which only made sense, of course; after all, he had watched me kill his master with his own eyes.
“Let’s dispense with the silent treatment,” I said without raising my voice at all. “I’d rather not call my torturer in here. I think we can manage without him, don’t you?”
“They’re not my brothers,” he snapped. His squeaky voice was shaking slightly.
“But you’re true gifted,” I said. “You’re an enemy of the Hrimthurs, who those fanatics worship.”
“I am NOT an enemy of my Summoner!” The soulcatcher shrieked. He was getting a little bit bolder. “I’m his faithful servant! And he will reward me when he returns to this world!”
“So this ice demon, who my kindred flung into the Abyss, is planning a comeback?”
The soulcatcher suddenly twitched and shut up, realizing he had said too much already. He adjusted his shoulders and lowered his head.
“Ah,” I sighed. “And we were off to such a good start...”
The soulcatcher hissed and tensed up, almost into the fetal position. He thought I was about to start beating him.
“By the way — that Sister Fria of yours didn’t turn out to be as all-powerful as you thought,” I pointed out.
The soulcatcher glared at me and hissed:
“Don’t speak too soon... Her brother and sister will be coming for you.”
“Oh, so she’s not alone?” I shook my head.
The soulcatcher flinched again, and this time it looked like he decided that he wasn’t going to say another word.
I sighed again and patted my belly demonstratively.
“With all the hubbub around the Marquis de Gondy’s arrival, I never had a chance to have breakfast,” I said languidly. “How about you — you hungry? I’m guessing the food here isn’t great.”
I could see the soulcatcher’s eyes light up, and his hands start twitching. Of course he was hungry. Sigurd had been keeping him on bread and water for two days.
“Hey!” I shouted loudly. “Anybody there?”
The door opened, and Leo appeared.
“Bring us something to eat. And don’t forget the wine. Shake down those loafers outside. I’m sure they’ve got something hidden away.”
As soon as Leo’s head disappeared again, I winked playfully at the soulcatcher, rubbed my hands together, and sat down at the table.
“He’ll sort them out right away, I’m sure! Hehe! I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the local jailors have some excellent capital-city wines squirreled away.”
The soulcatcher didn’t say anything, but his hungry, far-off expression was locked on the doorway where my squire had just been. Within a few minutes, the door opened again, and my men started setting a table for us. There were two roasted chickens, bread, cheese, vegetables, a jug of milk with condensation dripping down its sides, and a big flagon of wine.
“Well!” I rubbed my hands together again as I looked down at the food-laden table. “What did I tell you? They live like Dukes up here!”
The soulcatcher was staring unblinkingly at the table; from time to time, I could hear him gulp.
Leo’s face was blank as he poured some wine into my clay goblet; he was about to set the flagon down on the table, but I stopped him:
“Pour him some, too... Just a little bit, though...”
Leo nodded and did as I asked.
“What’s your name?” I turned to the soulcatcher as I loaded my plate with food.
“Valdar,” he croaked.
“Have a seat, Valdar, and have something to eat.”
He didn’t hesitate for very long; chains clanking, he moved over to a stool next to the table and practically lunged at the pile of food. Leo set a goblet of wine in front of him.
“Have some wine,” I said as I took a big sip from my own goblet to demonstrate that there was nothing to fear.
Valdar did so; actually, he grabbed his goblet and drained its contents greedily into his throat.
I glanced at Leo.
“Grab some paper and ink,” I said. “You’ll be recording this.”