Tomorrow's Shadow

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by Marcus Kruger


  ~ Unwanted Preparations ~

  Stefano stood at the rail of the balcony near the eastern end, listening to the waves crashing along the large granite outcroppings. His gaze dropped to the rough beach below. The walkable area was only a few hundred yards in length, and mostly small stones. It did not matter to the “Lord of the Keep” as Viktor at times would refer to him; he would still walk the course barefoot, wincing occasionally when he stepped on a larger stone. A stair at the balcony’s east end, carved into the rocks, wound its way through a crevice in the cliffs down to the beach, making the shoreline convenient when Stefano wanted some time to himself.

  “M’Lord.”

  Stefano turned to face Viktor. “Yes?”

  “Preparations are complete for tomorrow’s eve. The kitchen is stocked to overflow, and there is enough liquor to drown the mainland.”

  “You have done well, my servant and new friend. But I need ask, I have seen a few unknown faces of late. I assume they are here by your discretion. What is their purpose?”

  “Haven is large, m’Lord. And tomorrow’s gala taxes even my abilities. I have brought onboard a handful of servants, to man the kitchens and deal with the endless cleaning. Is there a problem?”

  “No, Viktor. I trust your instincts and decisions. Though I do wish you had conferred with me before bringing them on. Or at a minimum informed me so I did not walk in on one fresh from a swim. You know how I swim.”

  “M’Lord. My intense apologies. Which servant? I shall clear their mind of any memory of seeing you … unclothed.”

  Stefano laughed, his dark eyes shining. “No, that will not be necessary. I was able to step into the shadows before I was seen. It was just quite a shock.”

  “Yes, m’Lord. I understand where I misstepped.”

  “And since we are discussing the help, I trust they are aware my office and the entire 2nd floor are off limits.”

  “Of course, Lord Stefano. They have been well schooled on the matter. They also have been told to not enter a room if you are already there. If you enter a room they are in, they will ask you if they need to step out. Your privacy is paramount.”

  “All good decisions. As is usual with you. Now then…” Stefano stretched languidly. “The moon wanes and I grow weary. Tomorrow’s shadow shall be taxing I am sure; I will retire now.”

  “Yes, m’Lord. I shall close down everything.”

  “One other thing, Viktor. Where do our servants reside?”

  “The wing off the kitchen, the one that was to be for storage. There was nothing much there, what was I had moved to the alcove outside the wine cellar. The wing has been converted to servants’ quarters.”

  “Outstanding. Rest well, my friend.”

  “Until next moon, Lord Stefano.”

  The following evening Stefano rose earlier than normal, grabbed a towel and on second thought, his robe also, then headed for the stairs to the beach. After his usual early-evening swim, he stood at the water’s edge and gazed toward the horizon, his mind racing through all the mundane facts Viktor had fed him about the people attending the party later. Who was married to whom. How did this one get their money and if by cheating another, whom was cheated. He sighed and absently shook his head. Viktor had told him not to worry about remembering all of it. If he did not want me to remember it, why did he tell me any of it? He growled softly and finished toweling off, donned his robe, and headed back up the steps to the balcony.

  Viktor looked up from a discussion with one of the cooks. He motioned for her to leave as he stepped out from behind the bar. “M’Lord, ye best move quickly. There is barely a three-quarter hour before guests start arriving.”

  Stefano raised an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember you saying that I should not … ‘make an appearance’ … until at least four of the families are here. Speaking of which, how many are coming to this little … soirée?”

  “Only thirty families, but they easily may come in groups.” He glanced at the clock near the harp. “I suppose ye can be ready in time … if ye hurry.”

  Stefano turned toward the stairs then paused. “Only thirty people? Well, that should not be too bad, I suppose.”

  “No, m’Lord. Thirty families. Most a Lord and Lady and some with adult children that will most likely appear with them. I would imagine between seventy and eighty in total.”

  “Eighty? I suppose the hall and balcony combined will hold them all comfortably, but … I must greet some eighty people?”

  “Yes, and spend a few moments talking with each. So quickly now, ‘tis only a half hour left before they start to arri…” He was cut off by the loud thud of the brass knocker on the main door. “Or sooner, I suppose….”

  Stefano growled again and moved up the stairs at not quite a run.

  Let the games begin.

   

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