~ Growth ~
“It is just so … mammoth,” Stefano remarked as his eyes tried to take in all the splendor around them.
“As it should be, for a chylde of mine.” Vargon replied. He had surprised his son after a late feeding with a trip back to the island to tour the now-finished keep. It had taken almost seven months, but the scope of its beauty would make one expect it to have taken years. “This is now Haven,” he added, “and I trust you will keep it as splendid as it is today. If not more so.”
Stefano nodded slowly. “How this could ever be more splendid I shall never know, but I will do my best.” He stood in the center of the great hall, turning slowly, still taking it all in. “I suppose portraits along the stairway …”. The long mahogany stair curved up from the grand hall floor to the second floor where his and Vargon’s private residences were found. Across from the stairs was the bar. Not too long, it accommodated eight stools. The top was, of course, the same rich mahogany as the stairs. Standing at the bar, looking toward the stair, one could find the main entrance to the right and the doorway onto the balcony on the left. Large, ornate French doors made of a darkly stained oak, each boasted a spectacular stained glass panel. To the right of the balcony doors stood an ebony grand piano, an elaborately gilded harp was on the left. The double doors were opened out onto the balcony allowing a soft breeze to waft through the space; accompanied with the sound of the crashing surf below. A plain wooden door stood beside the bar, on the far side was a large fireplace, a gentle flame burning.
Stefano pointed at the door beside the bar. “Where does that go?”
“It leads to the kitchen, warehouse, my quarters, m’Lord” came the reply. Stefano turned to watch a shorter gentleman stride across the floor from the main entrance. Dressed in muted gypsy colors, he stood half a head shorter than Stefano and Vargon. He was bald and his eyes shone like twin fires.
“Stefano, meet Viktor, your manservant.” Vargon offered.
“My who-what?”
“Manservant, m’Lord,” Viktor answered. "It is my duty to see to your needs, ensure there is wood for the fire, stock for the bar and kitchens, and general cleaning. I purchase any food or special items for your dinners or parties, and will…”
“Dinners? Parties?” Stefano had walked over, extending his hand toward the new arrival.
Viktor smiled slightly at the offered hand shake, but simply bowed his head briefly. “Aye, m’Lord. ‘Tis a surety that ye will entertain. A fine place such as this is made to be shown, and it will be good for ye to meet the locals on the mainland.”
Stefano lowered his hand and tilted his head slightly to look closer at his manservant. “There is something … Pardon my curiosity, Viktor, but … you are mage are you not?”
“Indeed m’Lord. Ye have a sharp eye. I was born mage in … well, a time and some back. Was in my youth when I met the Master.” He glanced at Vargon for approval; receiving a slight nod, he continued. “’Twas a time in both our … younger days. I rescued the Master from the dark hunters.”
“A fate-drawn meeting if ever there was,” Vargon added. “I had been riding, it was in the throes of night, I expected no one. A single shot, one carved wood arrow, down to its sharpened tip, through my chest. Fortunately it missed my heart, but had Viktor not found me, most likely I would have been captured by the hunters and staked out until the morning sun.”
“Since that time, the Master and I have crossed paths plenty. The last time, a while back now, he talked of ye,” the man paused and smiled, “a great deal. And with great admiration and affection. When he mentioned this,” Viktor swept his arm slowly to indicate the Keep, “I told him I would be honored to be of service to ye.”
“In typical ‘Viktor’ fashion, he offered before I even had a chance to ask.” Vargon laughed lightly. “Be careful with him, my chylde. You will not find a finer or more dedicated friend and servant, but he is honest to a fault. Holding back only those things that must remain hidden, he will tell anyone anything if he receives your approval. So just watch what you approve.”
Viktor dropped his gaze and spoke softly, “I am who I am, m’Lord Vargon. ‘Tis all I can be.”
“And I would have it no other way, dear friend.”
“Not to interrupt this mutual admiration moment,” Stefano broke in, smirking. “I want to go back to this … parties and dinners comment. I do not think I am at a point to start entertaining the masses.”
“Not immediately, m’Lord.”
“No, not right away, son, but do not tarry too long. As you have said, the Keep is not small. You can be sure it has been seen from the mainland; I would expect many of the nobles have used spyglass to watch as much as they could focus in on. I would recommend a smaller gathering to start, just the ‘finer society’, as it were. They must be chomping at the bit to get over here, see what they can, then return home to lord it over their servants and any other ‘lower state’ they can find.”
“Maybe I should start then with those of ‘lower stature’ and see how those ‘higher ups’ like it.”
“I would suggest not, m’Lord. Ye need to maintain a proper presence here. Especially if ye will be going mainland at times to …. find nourishment.”
“I am afraid he is right, chylde. Do let him advise you on protocol and ‘proper society manners’. He is aware, and has an insight to others that should not be ignored. And I would say your first engagement should be before the end of the month, which means Viktor will need to start putting things together shortly, not to mention getting out the invitations. I fear your leisure enjoyment of New Haven and the Keep will have to wait.”
Stefano sighed. “All right. Viktor, give me two nights, then we shall start planning.”
“Of course. As ye decree, m’Lord.”
Tomorrow's Shadow Page 4