“GOOD MORNING, MONSIEUR! I hope you’ll forgive the early visit.”
Baron von Herwart hopped off his horse and, not looking at the footman, tossed him the reins.
The broad-shouldered Astlander looked fresh and, seemingly, very happy. A self-satisfied smile bead on his face while sothing clearly unpleasant and snakelike shone through in his blue eyes. The baron clearly had a sche in mind. And no wonder.
“Oh, co now, baron!” I smiled back. “It’s my honor to have you. Still, I must admit I do not entirely understand your purpose.”
“I have co to check on your health!” the baron ca loudly enough for all to hear. “Furthermore, my duty as a nobleman implores to apologize for the blunder I committed during that unfortunate dance at your esteed aunt’s reception!”
The voice was full of passion, but the eyes — zero repentance. The baron looked at with unconcealed mockery.
“You needn’t have troubled yourself, monsieur,” I ca. “A letter would have sufficed. That was what my uncle did, for instance.”
The baron snorted back.
“Oh, co now, chevalier! It’s no trouble at all. After all, it’s a fine morning for a horseback ride. Beyond that, I have a custom of handling everything relating to my honor as a nobleman personally, face to face!”
I got the hint. I already figured he wasn’t going to leave alone. Everyone was buzzing in my ear about it.
“Oh well,” I put on an open smile. “Seeing how you’re already here, won’t you join for breakfast?”
“Thank you, chevalier, but I am full!” the baron’s smirk grew even bigger. “I already had the satisfaction of eating breakfast with His Highness Prince Heinrich this morning!”
And then he ca to personally tell that news and enjoy the look of astonishnt on my simpleton’s face? How petty...
Or was he about to get revenge on now? He wouldn’t attack in my own house in front of all my servants, right? No, he clearly had another plan.
As an aside, the duchess and Baron de Levy were right — his disfavor lasted just a few days. If he had ever truly fallen into it.
“But I wouldn’t say no to a glass of wine,” the mage added. “The wine collection in your castle’s cellar is the stuff of legend at court!”
“Then, please!” I ca, again putting on a cheery smile. “I don’t know exactly what they say at court, but I can assure you — my cousin amassed quite the collection.”
When we were all alone in the fireplace room, the baron sat in an armchair opposite , took a little sip from the glass, smacked his lips in satisfaction and said:
“If taking François de Gramont’s wine collection was ant to anger him, then I can say with confidence that you pulled it off. As far as I know, he’s still infuriated by the loss of his playthings.”
The sudden familiar tone didn’t bother . The veneer of respect and good intention was just for the outside world.
I just shrugged and asked:
“Why did you co?”
“Can’t you guess?” Von Herwart answered with a question.
“We’re wasting ti,” I replied coldly. “I have a lot to do, and your master is probably waiting for you.”
“I see you weren’t too surprised to hear I’d been pardoned?” the baron laughed, ignoring the word “master.”
“No, I wasn’t,” I shook my head. “And neither was anyone at court. They’re all used to your outbursts. By the way, the prince must have really given you an earful about that slip-up. After all, you were only ordered to humiliate , but what did you do? You humiliated His Highness in public. I imagine he only tolerates you because you are a mage. Otherwise, he’d have gotten rid of you ages ago.”
The baron squinted and, tilting his head to one side, said:
“Nice try, but I do not intend to attack you in your own ho.”
I shrugged and chuckled.
“I had to try, you understand. I already got you once. You must have skipped the day your teacher taught self-control.”
Despite his external calm, I could see perfectly that the baron’s energy system was slowly filling with mana. If I could provoke him to attack right now, I could forget about this threat once and for all. If of course, I survived.
“You’re one to talk about self-control,” von Herwart snorted. “Think I couldn’t tell you’re also playing dirty?”
Ah, there it was. While I was sizing him up to find the best way to make him snap, the baron was trying to play the sa card. I chuckled internally. Alright, let’s play. But you have no proof. If not, Prince Heinrich would already know. And I’d be the one branded a cheat.
Feigning sincere surprise, I asked:
“What led you to such conclusions?”
“Let’s assu it’s possible you could have dodged and parried my lunges,” the baron responded with a sidelong smile. “But how did you survive my final blow? Everyone said you moved away at the last second. Nonsense! I was there. I saw you. You didn’t move. Even with a wooden sword, I could easily pierce you straight through like a moth with a pin.”
“Perhaps you’re losing your touch,” I shrugged again. “Couldn’t even kill a re mortal with magic.”
“re mortal?” the baron laughed. “Oh, no! You’re no re mortal. Leave the fabrications for the easily fooled simpletons. You think I couldn’t sense the surge of alien power before the blow? You were cautious, but I was able to sense your magic. I know for a fact you used a spirit shield and gave yourself up to my blade so easily only because you were confident you couldn’t be hurt.”
Hm... So, the fruit of my many days of experinting turned out to have a defined na here. And no wonder... Those magic guilds must have been teaching them sothing.
“Intriguing theory,” I chuckled. “His Highness Prince Heinrich must be taken by your investigation. Especially given you could easily test it by challenging to another duel. But if you muck things up again... I suspect the prince’s patience has its limits...”
“Oh, no!” the baron smirked back at , standing from his chair and setting his unfinished glass of wine on the table. “I will not kill you right now. You won’t get off so easy, bastard. I don’t yet know who you are or what guild trained you, but sooner or later your secret will co to light. And when it does, I will destroy you.”
“In any case, rember this — I am ever at your service, baron,” I responded, standing from my chair.
* * *
“Uncle, I’d like to have a peek at the fish you recently received from the east,” Prince Philippe ca, standing from the table and hurriedly wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Lanky with an unhealthy pallor and narrow, sunken chest, long thin arms and legs — the king’s eldest son gave off the impression of a man who had never been made to do physical exercise.
I, like every guest sitting at the table, stood up at once and, in accordance with etiquette, bowed my head slightly. I had spent two hours already at lunch with His Highness Prince Philippe and his uncle the Duke de Bauffremont, brother of the Queen of Vestonia and another few dozen elite nobles from the inner circle of the King of Vestonia’s eldest son.
To say I was surprised by the honor I had been afforded would be an understatent. I was also intrigued — the duke clearly wanted sothing out of . I’d have bet my right hand it had nothing to do with my present popularity. Although the topic of the Duchess du Bellay’s last reception did co up a few tis, as well as my part in the Sword Dance. I was asked questions, I responded, sotis joking, but unable to shake the feeling that the lord of the house didn’t care one bit about what happened at Max’s aunt’s ball. I was here for another reason...
The long table was set on a broad terrace of the huge ducal palace with a view of a giant garden with fountains, elegant shrubbery and a huge amount of marble statuary. Compared with all the opulence the Prince of Vestonia’s uncle imrsed himself in, my relatives’ palaces were like modest little country shacks.
And that put even more on guard. A simple bastard sitting at the sa table as Carl III’s eldest son and one of the most powerful people in Vestonia — it all made feel two different ways.
On the one hand, I was aware I had been given a unique opportunity to make important connections and gain access to knowledge that might benefit greatly. In theory, that was exactly how I was trying to move in this new world.
But on the other hand, I knew from firsthand experience how too much attention from people with power could end.
I spent the two hours observing the prince and being silently baffled. And that thin, out of shape kid with a shifty gaze and dull eyes, zits all over his gray face constantly blowing his nose was the future Dauphin of Vestonia?
Aha... Now I could partially understand why Carl III was tolerating this whole circus with the different colored armbands. At first glance, Prince Heinrich looked like the best choice for future dauphin and king of the country. But appearances wouldn’t win the fight for the throne. That would primarily be decided by having strong backing from rich and influential allies who in their turn would not benefit from having an independent and willful man on the throne...
Prince Philippe behaved like a nine-year-old boy. Or rather, sotis I heard phrases and expressions of an adult human, but less often than I should have.
Prince Philippe’s main passion was a huge nagerie assembled especially for him by his beloved “Uncle Claude.” Beyond his animals, the “red” prince wasn’t interested in much else.
Over the last few hours, I beca convinced that Claude de Bauffremont had total control over his eldest nephew. Essentially, he had taken the place of the boy’s family. My aunt was wrong about Blanca de Gondy. Even if the Princess of the South did beco wife of Prince Philippe, and as a consequence the Queen of Vestonia, the ruler of the country would be the Duke de Bauffremont. If the de Gondies wanted to take power, they had to take down de Bauffremont. It was the only way...
“Of course, Your Highness!” the duke smiled sweetly to his nephew. “After all, I got them especially for you!”
“Thank you, uncle,” Prince Philippe smiled and, loudly sniffling, hurried toward the front door. And after him ran the whole army of attached footn and servant won. The duke signaled for to stay behind.
When the prince had gone, I sat in my place and continued savoring my desert. A tender souffle with pieces of fruit of so kind. It practically lted in the mouth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the duke, who was thoughtfully tracing his dessert spoon around the plate. Claude de Bauffremont was the total opposite of his nephew. The short broad-shouldered black-eyed man practically reeked of health and vivacious energy.
My scan revealed that the duke was not a mage. But since I’d arrived, I couldn’t shake the feeling that so magical power was present. Furthermore, it was a power that seed dimly familiar.
The duke finally sighed and glanced at .
“Chevalier, I assu you are tired of questions after the last few hours.” the duke chuckled, showing his even white teeth.
He looked fifty years old but had the teeth of a twenty-year-old. With the kind of resources the duke had, he could afford the best healers and the most effective potions.
Setting aside the silverware and placing one hand on my knee, I responded:
“Indeed I am, Your Grace. It’s like you can read my thoughts. I just can’t figure out what the Duke de Bauffremont might find so interesting about a common chevalier.”
“Your question has a simple answer,” the duke replied, taking a small bell off the table and ringing it shortly.
I heard another door open behind and a few instants later, my body was tense, ready to react at any mont. If I had hair on the back of my neck, it’d have been standing on end.
The dimly familiar magic power I could only scarcely sense had just revealed itself to in full asure. I pulled in air through my nose and breathed a heavy sigh. Then I said calmly:
“So, you survived.”
“As did you,” I heard a familiar purring voice behind . “Hm-m-m... You’re looking a lot tougher, fox pup.”
An instant later, the lutine, and that was exactly who it was, gently slid behind the duke’s right shoulder and froze in silence. Her wry and impudent gaze studied from head to toe.
Hm... So this is who you really serve. So, the steppe dweller I took down in that hollow was talking about the Duke de Bauffremont. Okay, the puzzle pieces were starting to co together.
“I think we’ll understand each other better this way,” the duke ca, sitting back in his chair. “Isn’t that right, chevalier?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” I nodded.
“That’s great,” de Bauffremont smiled his toothless smile. “That will save the both of us ti. Let note that I am entranced by your abilities, young man. You are the first true gifted I can rember to survive an ebb and a flow. As a matter of fact, everyone still believes only strykers may cross the Barrier. You are aware what kind of opportunities are available to you, yes? With the right support from a powerful patron, you could move mountains.”
Inside, I laughed. Different worlds, but these “powerful patrons” were like lab-grown clones of one another. If only you knew how many tis I’d heard things like that.
“Am I understanding you correctly, Your Grace? Are you offering to be my patron?”
Claude de Bauffremont snorted and shook his head.
“Not so fast, young man. It isn’t so easy to have the Duke de Bauffremont as a patron. You have to earn it first.”
“Hm... Then let thank you right now for the excellent dinner, and the chance to be introduced to the future Dauphin of Vestonia, then say goodbye and head ho.”
“Of course,” the duke chuckled. “But my sixth sense, which never let down before, is telling you aren’t going to do that.”
I stayed sitting and feigned complete attention.
“Great then,” de Bauffremont nodded. “Good decision, monsieur. I always liked people with a business-like approach.”
The duke moved his hand slightly and ca:
“Tikka, you may go.”
“Yes, monsieur,” the lutine bowed and, casting a playful gaze at , made for the door.
“As far as I know, you t my assistant under less than ideal circumstances,” the duke chuckled, noticing my rapt gaze as I watched the lutine leave.
“Less than ideal?” I asked coldly. “You might say that. She and another few of your people locked in a cage and fed to a flow. But you already know that, don’t you, Your Grace?”
“I do,” he agreed. “And if you think those barbaric rituals were my idea, then you’re deeply mistaken. Responsibility for everything that happened to you and the other gifted my partner sacrificed to the Barrier lies squarely and fully with him. As for Tikka... The lutine is a creature that must have a master. I ordered her to obey the Duke de Valence. Who knew he had gone so wild out there on the frontier?”
You speak softly. Very believable. I’ll pretend I believed it.
The duke fell silent, giving ti to think it over. I frowned and pretended to digest what I’d heard.
“You ntioned a ritual...” I ca, holding a pause.
The duke rubbed his nose and sighed. He was doing his best to communicate that he was a man of civilization, and such bloody sacrifices were foreign to him.
“Have you heard the legend of golden bruts?” he inquired.
“Children’s fairy tales about crystals of unusual power?” I asked. “Which harbor a powerful sorcery?”
I had been told that legend once by Lada when, according to our deal, she was instructing about the frontier. The witch didn’t believe in them, but she told about them in a skeptical manner. But now these gold bruts were coming up in conversation again.
“Exactly,” the duke nodded. “The Duke de Valence, known by all as the Wild Duke, was obsessed with this legend. He got his hands on so ancient folio that spoke of a very rare consequence of the Barrier — to change the energy system of gifted people and give them a golden reservoir. In other words, to create within them a golden brut.”
After saying that, the duke stared closely at . Then continued:
“The folio also had a detailed description of a certain ritual. Basically, to sum it up, a golden brut could change a normal person into a powerful gifted one.”
“Do you think my reservoir was changed?” I laughed.
“No,” he ca seriously. “I assu your ability to pass through the barrier dates to much earlier. Have I satisfied your curiosity, chevalier?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Okay, then let’s discuss the reason I invited you here,” he ca in an authoritative tone. “Chevalier Renard, I would like to give you a mission that can only be completed by a man with such particular skills as yours. Because alas, the strykers I once relied upon, as you know, are dead.”
“You have my attention, Your Grace,” I responded, trying to look casual. Inside anwhile, I was tense like a compressed spring.
Claude de Bauffremont had just directly told that the Wild Duke and the renegade strykers were his people. Essentially, he was now directly telling I had no other way out but to agree to whatever he offered . Otherwise, I’d never get out of this place alive.
The Duke de Bauffremont was power and authority. Essentially, he controlled the entire eastern part of the country. He was accustod to being obeyed by virtue of his birthright. Honestly though, the last “powerful patron” to try so blatantly to recruit died of a sudden heart attack in bed.
Hm... Just like the good old days. My old line of work seed to have followed into this world.
“Before I na my offer, I want to show you how I intend to pay.”
Here ca the carrot. After saying that, the duke again rang the bell and a footman hurriedly hopped out to the terrace holding a golden platter. On it lay a plump pillow woven of golden threads interspersed with red silk.
I only needed one look in true vision to tell what was in the bag. What I saw gave a chill. I had a very hard ti keeping just an interested facial expression.
Taking the bag off the platter and giving the footman the signal to leave, the Duke de Bauffremont set it in front of .
“Take a look, chevalier,” the duke offered with a slight, self-satisfied smile.
I carefully undid the clasp and poured so of the contents of the sack onto my hand. Now I could give in and show a bit of emotion.
I had lying there two dark turquoise pearls. Each the size of a large quail egg. The mana concentration in the bruts was simply off the charts. The pearls I’d brought from the Shadow were nothing compared to these giants. One pearl like this would significantly accelerate the growth of my reservoir.
“I assu you know what that is,” the duke ca. My astonished appearance clearly delighted him.
“Yes, Your Grace,” I ca with a dry throat.
“This sack contains ten of those pearls,” de Bauffremont ca. “That is an advance. If you do as I ask, you can have just as many more. On top of that, if you’re satisfied, we can return to the conversation about my patronage. Believe , the Dukes de Bauffremont have always taken care of their people.”
Oh! I’d heard more than my fair share of such pathos-laden phrases.
But as for work... The paynt was more than generous. Dodger was still Dodger, no matter the world. No need to tell the risks, I could tell who I was dealing with just fine. I’d seen my fill of them in my past life. And no problem. I did my work, and everyone was happy. Most important was to constantly keep my nose to the air so my red tail could get out of harm’s way before shit hit the fan.
“You have my full attention, Your Grace.”
“I’m certain you are a cautious person who knows how to hold his tongue...” the duke stared straight in the eyes and continued in an icy tone. “That is why I presu I don’t have to remind you that everything you’re hearing must remain a secret. Let this assignnt be sothing of a trust exercise. If you do not pass, you and your people will have unpleasant consequences to deal with. Am I making myself clear, chevalier?”
“More than, Your Grace,” I responded firmly. “You have my word. The secret dies with .”
And there was the lash. Inside, I laughed. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Dukes, after all, were also mortal.
He clearly desperately needed help from soone like . He must have wanted to send past the Barrier again. Otherwise, what ability was he referring to? He had gotten ahead of himself. Proof of that was the generous advance, and no less generous paynt. To keep him on the hook, I gave him a whole song and dance. How could I not? He needed .
But did I need him? Hey, why not? The pay was more than generous, plus I stood to earn a lot and gain a lot of opportunities.
Well, if I refused, I’d have to pack my things and take off for another country. After all, I was not content to live my last life as an outcast and wanderer. If I sensed a real threat, I would deal with it. I could already see several black spots in his energy system. Even the top healers couldn’t deal with him. I would only need a single energy pulse and Prince Philippe would be crying for his beloved “Uncle Claude.”
“Okay then, let’s get down to business,” the duke nodded. “Just yesterday, I beca aware that Prince Louis expressed a desire to have you in his embassy, which will shortly be heading to Northland.”
My brows shot up. To be honest, the duke caught off guard. I was preparing to hear that he intended to send to a fortress on the frontier.
“I see you’re surprised,” he snorted. “But I am not in the slightest. After your performance at the Duchess du Bellay’s ball, where you wiped the floor with that upstart Baron von Herwart, it’s an utterly expected outco. It just so happens my mission for you is also related to Northland. What can I say? Get ready for a long trip. I believe you’ll be told of his Highness’ desire any day. And now, listen carefully to what I want you to do in the north...”
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