Chapter 73: Witch Council |
Shad wasn’t even given the chance to refuse before the other person shoved the revolver into his hands.
“Sir, if this compensation isn’t satisfactory, I’ll leave you an address. Radis is temporarily staying there. You can visit his apartment tomorrow and use this gun to demand further compensation.”
Left with no other option, Shad accepted the gun. Looking down at it, his fingers traced over the barely perceptible raised markings on its surface. They formed words: Gun of Kindness.
It took him a moment to nod, still baffled by how peculiar this evening had been. After receiving Captain Radis’s address and exchanging a few words on courage and loyalty with others, he resumed his search for Miss Louisa. His formal suit was now a lost cause, but wearing just a white shirt wasn’t entirely inappropriate.
“But what’s the purpose of this gun? Does it always miss its target?” he wondered, wrapping the revolver in his coat, which was missing a sleeve. As he walked, he decided that he’d consult the St. Byrons Library about it next Saturday.
Earlier, under the grape trellis in the garden, Shad had been playing Rhodes cards. During this summer’s outdoor banquet, the host—Earl Crowen’s youngest son—had already made an appearance in the courtyard.
Now the night was deep, but the banquet atmosphere remained lively. Guests gathered in small groups, while young men and women paired off amid their friends’ teasing and wandered into the garden. Those who didn’t enjoy the party’s ambiance could still sip their drinks alone, enjoying the night.
The Lakeside Manor was enormous, and despite circling the area, Shad still couldn’t locate Miss Louisa. Standing by a table overlooking the mansion, he felt a flicker of worry for Dr. Schneider and Father August. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a golden-haired figure slipping past the stables at the side of the courtyard.
The stables, situated at one corner of the courtyard, were not part of the banquet area. No candles or gaslights illuminated that space, leaving it shrouded in darkness. Guests would usually avoid such places unless they sought privacy for something clandestine.
The manor was connected to the Earl’s horse farm, but its stables were primarily for carriages serving the manor itself. As Shad left the candlelit and gaslit banquet area, darkness enveloped him, sending an eerie shiver down his spine.
That sensation quickly gave way to discomfort as the stables’ pungent stench assaulted him.
“No wonder they built the stables by the wall, far from the courtyard,” he muttered, his eyes stinging. Having never been near a stable before, the young foreigner hadn’t anticipated the odor. The laughter of a woman echoed in his head as he leaned against the innermost courtyard wall, tears blurring his vision as he debated whether to approach. In the dim courtyard, with tears streaming down, he doubted he could see someone standing even ten steps away.
“This is awful. This body seems to have night blindness,” he thought, glancing back toward the banquet. He could only make out a blurry yellow glow. Despite doubting that a lady like Miss Louisa would be near the stables, he cautiously took a few steps closer.
Though this body suffered from night blindness, its hearing was excellent. Holding his breath beside the stable’s outer wall, Shad picked up on voices—a man and a woman speaking. However, the woman wasn’t Miss Louisa.
Since he was already here, Shad decided to eavesdrop. It wasn’t out of voyeuristic curiosity; after all, no one would choose such a smelly place for a rendezvous when better options—like the garden’s dense shrubs or a boat by Lake Schluch—were available.
“Jenny, are you sure someone from ‘the Council’ is in Tobesk?” asked the man, his voice gruff and raspy, as if his throat had been injured. His accent wasn’t local.
“‘The Council’? Political intrigue?” Shad mused.
Both the Northern Kingdom of Drarian and the Southern Carsonrick United Kingdom had shed their feudal and slave systems during the steam revolution. Their political structures resembled Western nations in Shad’s original world. While monarchies retained absolute power, nobles had formed councils.
“Yes, there’s definitely a major witch from the Witches’ Council in Tobesk. Even the True God Churches haven’t realized this yet. I obtained this intel at great personal risk—it’s absolutely...”
Shad didn’t stay to hear more. Covering his mouth, he quietly slipped away.
The woman had used the term “witch” in Drarian, a word with a specific historical connotation. It referred exclusively to female spellcasters of the Fifth Epoch. That period, known as the witches’ era, was marked by female dominance in sorcery and the fragmented rule of witch emperors. With the mysterious end of the Fifth Epoch and the death of the thirteen most powerful witch emperors, the Sixth Epoch had begun.
Though Dr. Schneider and the others had never mentioned the Witches’ Council, the name alone suggested its connection to those ancient spellcasters. Recognizing the potential trouble, Shad promptly distanced himself. He sought a peaceful life and had an orange tabby, Mimia, depending on him back home. He couldn’t afford to die over such matters.
“Large outdoor banquets are truly dangerous. You never know what kind of people might show up,” he thought as he returned to the manor’s long dining table. He refrained from grabbing more food, sniffing his shirt sleeve instead, convinced it now carried the stench of manure.
Circling the estate again, he still didn’t find Miss Louisa. However, he did encounter Baron Lavender and his companions, though he didn’t join their discussion about the card game under the grape trellis.
Heeding Father August’s advice, Shad avoided entering the manor and decided to try his luck in the garden again.
The night had grown late, but only a few guests had left. The garden area behind the manor, far larger than St. Derain Square, seemed even quieter than when Shad had last visited.
He slowed his steps, careful not to rustle the plants. Eventually, he found himself back under the grape trellis, where a young poet with tear-streaked cheeks now occupied the stone table. Shad had seen him earlier at the courtyard’s long table, unsuccessfully attempting to flirt with a solitary young lady.