by Frank Morin
Uh oh. That look spelled trouble.
Mattias growled, “But you. You cheated.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We both promised not to interfere, but you kept trying to heal her. You heard what she said. She felt it and that swayed her decision.”
“If I hadn’t, she might never have woken up.”
“You broke your word of honor. You’re no gentleman. You sneaky, underhanded liar!” Mattias exclaimed, growing visibly angry and suddenly shifting into the graceful stance of an Allcarver tapping obsidian.
Connor prepared to tap granite, his own anger flaring at the stupid accusation. “Says the guy who tried to illegally move the entire Builder compound to his estate to force Verena to live next to you.”
Good thing he absorbed granite a moment ago because he bet the Tallan’s dirty socks that Mattias would never grant him time to absorb some for a fair fight. A fight was clearly Mattias’s intention.
So Connor tapped limestone. The little stone was still hanging under his shirt on the steel-link neck chain that Aifric had gifted to him. He smiled, applying limestone to his teeth.
“You thief!” Mattias exclaimed. “That’s my move.”
“I perfected it, though.” Connor tapped more limestone and twisted the light in front of Mattias into a mirage. He felt the image forming and pushed his thoughts onto it to give it clear direction.
Captain Ilse suddenly appeared in the hallway near them. Mattias started at her sudden appearance and did not look happy at the intrusion.
Connor reached for serpentinite and managed to connect with it long enough to craft some words in Ilse’s voice. “Lord Mattias, all the Crushers have voted. We’ve decided to appoint Connor as our new liason with—”
Then the crashing waves of red and green power interfered with each other again, despite his efforts to focus only on the red frequency. The rest of the sentence faded away, but Mattias didn’t seem to notice.
His face flushed with affronted rage and he cried, “You can’t do that!”
Connor shrugged. “Of course she can’t. I was just practicing.”
Maybe he’d pushed a little too hard. Connor hadn’t wanted to fight Mattias, hadn’t wanted to gloat or remind Mattias of his shame at losing Verena to an Obrioner commoner. He’d won Verena, so he didn’t need anything else, and he honestly hoped Mattias would learn to live with her choice.
Mattias threw a punch.
After practicing with Tomas and Cameron, Connor easily slipped the blow, but suddenly all of his suppressed anger at Mattias’s attempts to force Verena to submit to his will, bubbled over.
Mattias’s hand went to his sword. “I’ve had enough of your foolishness. I formally challenge you to—”
Connor stepped closer, tapping granite just as Mattias drew his sword in a flash. It rasped loudly as it cleared the scabbard, and it seemed to blur through the air, slashing through Connor’s shirt and scraping across his stomach a split second after it hardened.
Mattias was a champion Allcarver, and he could kill Connor, despite the protection of granite, if Connor gave him any chance at all.
So Connor crowded close, pinning Mattias’s arm to his side, and grabbing him by the collar. Mattias struggled to bring his sword up to stab at Connor’s vulnerable eyes, but Connor seized his arm.
“We’re supposed to start at ten paces,” Mattias protested.
If he gave Mattias that much space, he’d get sliced to ribbons. So Connor said, “I never accepted your challenge. I have to admit, I prefer ending things this way.”
Connor threw Mattias out the nearby window.
Mattias cursed as he smashed through the window and the shutter behind in a satisfying explosion of glittering shards of glass and splinters of dark wood. He still somehow managed to slash his sword across Connor’s stone-hardened cheek. The scraping sound of steel on stone rang loudly in his ears as he twisted his head away to protect his eyes. Mattias really was a gifted fighter.
He wasn’t good at flying, though.
Connor immensely enjoyed watching Mattias tumbling through the cloud of debris, limbs flailing, priceless expression of shocked disbelief on his face.
Their eyes met. Connor waved.
He’d dreamed of throwing Mattias out a window for so long, and the wait was worth it. Mattias plummeted to the little, sloped roof directly below them. He bounced and rolled wildly down the snowy pitch and tumbled off the lower end. Connor tried to burn the moment into his memory to enjoy all his life.
“You Obrioner lowlife rock pounder!” Mattias shouted as he disappeared from view.
That was a good one. Connor tried to tap serpentinite again to snag the words, but the dual frequency power sources immediately interfered and snuffed out his connection. He sighed. What a loss. Hamish would have loved to hear that one.
“What’s going on here?” a cultured voice demanded in Grandurian from behind him as a muffled thud and long groan echoed up from the courtyard below.
That was one of the few phrases Connor had learned. He turned to find a finely dressed, elderly gentleman approaching. Clearly a nobleman, he did not look pleased. He was probably one of Mattias’s friends.
“Settling an agreement,” Connor responded in Obrioner, a little harsher than he intended. “Who are you?”
The man drew himself up proudly. “I am Lord Heilwig.”
“Am I supposed to know you?” Connor demanded, not feeling very subservient at the moment. The stuffy lord had interrupted his long-dreamed-of moment of glory. His anger at Mattias’s idiocy and ridiculous accusations was still building. Some of it slipped into his voice as he confronted the proud old lord.
Lord Heilwig sniffed in abundant disapproval. “Apparently you are more unrefined than my daughter led me to believe.”
“Who’s your daughter?” Connor demanded.
“Verena, of course.”
Oops.
Connor’s anger evaporated in a flash. He was such a grouted fool.
67
Saved by International Warfare
Verena’s father eyed Connor critically, then glanced out the broken window. “Was that Mattias?”
“You know him?” Connor asked, cursing the Tallan’s bad luck that Verena’s father had to show up just then.
“Indeed. I have found him a most remarkable young man.”
“I guess you didn’t know him that well, then.”
“What are you talking about?” Lord Heilwig demanded angrily.
All he could do was rely on truth to help smooth over the awkward introduction. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about him recently, but just now he made false accusations about me, suggested Verena might be better off still in her coma, and tried to kill me. Throwing him out the window was the gentlest way to deal with him.”
Plus, it was so incredibly fun.
Verena’s father frowned, not looking convinced, but said, “I will reserve judgment until I speak with Mattias again.”
Hopefully he avoided staring into those hypnotic, glowing teeth, or he might believe whatever lies Mattias tried to invent to justify his actions.
“Fair enough.” Connor tried to compose himself and said rather lamely, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Verena is expecting you.”
Still frowning, he said, “She requested that I invite you to join us for dinner so the proper introductions could be made, but if you prefer to carouse in the streets with the drunkards, I would be happy to make apologies for you.”
That didn’t sound like he’d made a good first impression. Well, thinking of returning to Verena filled Connor with so much happiness, he didn’t really care. So he gave Lord Heilwig a happy smile and extended a hand to shake.
“Not at all. I love eating after exercise.”
Lord Heilwig did not look inclined to shake, but Connor grabbed his hand anyway. He had a pretty good grip for an old guy.
“Verena has informed me of her choice of suitors. It is my opinion tha
t she chose foolishly.”
“How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”
“But I know Mattias.” He glanced at the window and scowled.
“If you always settle for what you know, you’ll never experience anything better.”
Connor released his hand and led the way back to Saskia’s study. He kept his expression neutral, but slowly clenched his fists on alternating sides. He recognized the superior look and disdain in Verena’s father’s eyes. He had seen that same look from nobility in Obrion all his life.
Verena was exceptional, so perhaps once they smoothed out that bad first meeting, maybe her family would come around. He’d won the hearts of the spoiled noble students at the Carraig. He’d give Lord Heilwig time before throwing him out the window after Mattias.
He was amazed to discover that in his brief absence a table had been set up for dinner, complete with six chairs, entire place settings, and at least eight different courses. The long table groaned under the weight of silver platters and crystal goblets, roasted pork, some kind of vegetable soup, a type of sweetbread twisted into braids, with jelly and cream filling, and several other platters with covered lids.
Verena was standing near the table with three other people who Connor assumed must be the rest of her family.
The woman standing beside her could have easily been mistaken for her older sister. They looked so much alike that Connor had to look again before he saw the lines of age mostly concealed under cosmetics, and the wisps of gray at her temples that faded away under whatever hair dye she used to keep herself looking young.
Verena’s smile chased away Connor’s lingering irritation at her father. She rushed over and greeted her father with an enthusiastic hug, then took Connor’s hand. “Father, I’m glad you two already met.”
“I doubt you intended us to meet as we did,” her father said, although he couldn’t maintain his frown around her.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Mattias wanted to talk,” Connor said.
Verena’s father raised one eyebrow. “I thought you said he tried to kill you?”
“Oh, no,” Verena exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
Connor loved the look of worry on her face. He assured her, “I’m fine. Mattias is a bit bruised, but I figured out how to force him to take a time out.”
The rest of the family had approached while they talked. Verena refrained from asking the questions she clearly wanted to. Instead she said, “Mother, this is Connor. Connor, this is my mother, Lady Christel.”
Connor bowed over her hand and said, “I thought you two were sisters.”
Verena gave him an approving look, and her father almost smiled.
Lady Christel took Connor’s hands in hers. They were just as warm as Verena’s. Her voice was rich and warm, and her expression welcoming. She glanced to her husband, then said, “I am so pleased to meet you, Connor.”
The girl who crowded in close on Verena’s other side, who Connor assumed must be her sister, said in a disapproving town, “Is poor Mattias okay?”
Maybe thirteen, she was tall and gangly, with long, thick, blond hair, styled perfectly around her face and dropping halfway down her back in obedient layers. She looked at Connor with her nose turned up just a bit, regarding him with the superiority of someone born to power, who knows to the deepest corner of their heart, and all the way down to their tiniest, perfectly manicured toenail that they are better than everyone else.
Connor gave her a reassuring smile. “It looked like he knows how to bounce pretty well, so he should be okay.”
“I’m sure he’s fine, Ludmilla,” Verena assured her, then gave Connor a warning look. He wasn’t sure what she was warning him about. He’d already thrown Mattias.
The last person in the family, a tall, handsome man, with broad shoulders, brown hair and eyes, and a smile that most girls probably fell for immediately, chuckled. “Looking forward to our honor duel. I’m starting to think I might even want you to win.”
Verena flushed just a little, and that soft, creeping color in her cheeks was extremely distracting. “Connor, this is my brother, Vincenz.”
Vincenz shook hands with the grip of a Rumbler, but he made a point to not crush Connor’s fingers. Connor sensed that he was going to like Vincenz. As for the rest of them, he wasn’t sure yet. Her mother seemed nice, if a bit subservient to her husband, and her sister seemed far too much like the spoiled nobles he’d known at he Carraig. No wonder Verena was so eager to escape to Schwinkendorf valley with the Builders.
Lord Heilwig directed them around the table and three serving girls scurried to dish out the various courses. Connor eagerly sampled them, which was apparently necessary before really digging in. He felt almost as hungry as Verena, and as soon as she began attacking her dinner, he did too. The two of them ate far more than the rest of the family combined.
That seemed to annoy her parents and please her brother in equal measure. Ludmilla seemed torn between digging in like Verena, who she clearly looked up to, and wanting to emulate her parents’ restraint.
Connor said, “You must be hungry after your journey. Don’t feel like you have to hold back on my account. I’m used to eating with Hamish. He could out eat all of us together.”
Ludmilla’s air of stiff superiority evaporated. She gasped. The Hamish? You’re friends with him?”
Connor laughed. “You must be talking about a different Hamish.”
“The Builder who works with Verena, the one who flies like an eagle and is so brave he fought rampager monsters with his bare hands.”
Connor looked to Verena who shrugged innocently. “You’ve been telling stories, haven’t you?”
“I love Verena’s letters,” Ludmilla gushed. “We love reading her adventures, don’t we mother?”
Lady Christel looked a bit embarrassed, but also seemed to realize she couldn’t avoid the subject. “Your letters are a wonder, dear. We love the insights into the exciting life of invention and adventure you’ve lived.”
“A little too much adventure,” her father grumbled.
Verena chided, “You’re acting grumpy, Father. What’s the matter?”
He glanced from her to Connor and said, “I can’t help fearing you’ve made a rash, hasty decision.”
Vincenz chuckled, “Father’s in mourning. He was looking forward to spending the summers in Mattias’s palace outside of Edderitz.”
“Don’t be insolent, boy,” Lord Heilwig said with affronted dignity, but Ludmilla concealed her grin behind a napkin, and Verena’s mother couldn’t suppress a smile.
She placed a hand over her husband’s. “I know you were already prepared to grant Mattias your blessing, but we cannot ignore Verena’s will in the matter.”
He grunted and frowned. Verena said, “Please, Father. Just be happy today. We’re all together. Please withhold judgment until you get to know Connor better.”
“This situation is highly unusual,” he muttered.
So it fit Verena perfectly.
But even though he looked like he wanted to refuse to accept that his daughter had chosen an Obrioner commoner over his favorite Grandurian nobleman, Lord Heilwig sighed. “Very well, dear. You’ve been ill. I will humor you.”
Connor was impressed. Maybe there was more to Verena’s father than he’d feared.
Verena gave her father a dazzling smile. “Tell me about your journey. This is a terrible time to travel.”
That was a safe topic, one they all seemed happy to linger on. They spent several minutes discussing the deplorable conditions of the roads and the fact that they never would have made it without their escorts of Water Moccasins and Flame Weavers to help make the journey bearable.
Verena polished off her second heaping plate of dinner while they talked. She said, “If we have time, I’ll give you a ride in the Storm. It’s our fastest flying machine. You’ll love it.”
Most of the family looked thrilled by the idea, but her father’s
good humor cracked and he shook his head. “Members of high society do not go around flying in Builder mechanicals, Verena.”
That was such a stupid statement Connor spoke before he could stop himself. “Are you kidding? Kilian flies all the time. Mattias himself flew with me to Althing to secure a treaty along with General Wolfram. While we were there, that ability to fly played a critical role in helping to repel an invasion from Obrion that could have destroyed their entire capital city.”
Vincenz asked, “What invasion? We never heard about that.”
“Just happened. We only barely returned from that and from helping to start a revolution in Obrion.”
Lady Christel gaped. “Revolution? Oh, my. You’ve been busy.”
Verena chuckled. “I fall asleep for a while, and Connor starts meddling in politics.”
Politics? He liked that. Glancing at Lord Heilwig Connor said, “I’ve always had a gift for breaking things. I’ve never broken an entire country before, though.”
“Tell us?” Ludmilla asked eagerly. A good story was clearly the way to get to that girl’s heart.
So Connor told them a little bit about the desperate fight against Harley in Althing. He probably played up some of his involvement just a little, but even being completely humble he had to admit that he had saved the day.
As he spoke he watched their reactions carefully. Vincenz was nodding, as if imagining himself there, fighting at Connor’s side. Ludmilla listened, rapt, her big blue eyes starting to glow a little. She must be a Solas, and no doubt if she practiced that look on the lordlings in Edderitz, she was already starting to win a huge following of devoted suitors.
Lady Christel also seemed to appreciate the story, but she kept glancing at Verena’s father, who looked impressed, and equally annoyed to feel that way.
“I suppose you provided a valuable service to our allies,” Lord Heilwig finally conceded, eliciting loud laughter from Vincenz.
“Oh father, stop being so dour. I’m starting to see what Verena sees in this guy.”