by B. H. Young
"Hello, Padenton," she said standing at the desk looking down at him.
He raised his head startled. "Oh hello there Martha, didn't hear you come in." He looked to her then back to his book. "I was just reading up on the history, well, myth really of the Divulen Elves of Dharonwish."
Martha leaned over looking at the pages of his book. "Ah, Devil Elves, and the land of Dharonwish ripped away from this world by The March... scary stuff that one."
"Yes, I'm not sure how my eyes would handle seeing a red Elf? Then again, I'm not sure anything with red skin would look friendly to me. You know it was said they were more learned in magic than any other race."
"Magic?" she grimaced.
"Magic of the ancient world Martha, not the remnants of it today," he said. "Guess it wasn't enough to save them from The March."
"Really Padenton, you are too smart to believe such stories of mythical beings and the monsters that ate them."
"I suppose." He frowned. "Archivist Edverc keeps me reading so much history all the time while being stuffed up in here that I just like to escape every now and then. He doesn't like me reading such drivel as he calls it, I asked him once, if he doesn't like me reading such books than why do we have them. He hollered that all history even false history must be kept, what kind of response is that? It doesn't even make any sense."
She pushed his book back to see the one under it and said, "The Carthone Outpost of Vyhoven that looks interesting."
"Archivist Edverc says he will take me there to see all the ancient structures once this little war is over. Think he may just be fibbing me, though. It's hard enough to get him to stop reading long enough to say more than five words." Padenton grinned and coughed a small chuckle. "Don't see someone like that traveling across the kingdom any time soon, war or not."
"You're so lucky getting to learn about all this wonderful stuff. You will be a great scholar one day as to where I will be in the trenches dealing with the filth," she said and Padenton lightened to the humoring.
"I am envious of you Martha, you will get to travel all the time once you are an Iron and see most of these things as to where I will be stuck here maintaining the records. Suppose it's for the best, though, I quite like reading," he said and gave a vacant stare.
"I suppose," Martha said and sighed. "But in the meantime, I'm stuck here with my lessons. Speaking of which, is Archivist Edverc here?" she asked. Knowing as most everyone else that if Edverc was not pacing the lined shelves stuck in parchment like a leech he was not in the hall.
"No Martha, I'm sorry he is not here at the moment. Anything I can help you with?"
"Instructor Claiden wants us to write a profiling on some of the more important people of the kingdom and I thought one of the nobles from the Crown List would be a suitable candidate." She lowered her head. "I haven't been doing too well with his assignments as of late so I wanted to show initiative and thought a report on one of those names would do well," she said.
"No one is supposed to see the Crown List without Archivist Edverc being present," he said. "Its cabinet hasn't been opened in years, not since the last noble was elevated to a stewardship. He'd likely break my hands. Archivist Edverc is very peculiar about tradition."
"Do you know when he'll be back?" she asked with concern in her eyes and voice.
"Later this evening sometime, he went to Baylin Port to receive a shipment of books." Padenton's face twisted with a smirk. "It usually takes him a while to get back since he likes to skim through all of the manuscripts making sure everything is in order," he said.
Martha grunted and rubbed the back of her neck. "Instructor Claiden is expecting a report today before nightfall," she said. "I promise Padenton, he won't know I got the name from the list and would just think it an act of chance."
Padenton stared at her with pity. He knew how important instructor Claiden's coursework was. He smiled and reached into the desk drawer grabbing the key. "Oh, what's the harm in it, not like you're going to steal the damn thing and besides I'll be the archivist one day and all the responsibilities that go with it will fall to me," he said.
Martha rejoiced with brightened eyes. "Thank you Padenton, thank you so much you are too kind."
He led her to the back of the room before a grand cabinet of wood and metal. Padenton unlocked it and pulled its heavy doors to its sides. A slanted platform held a locked murky glass box with metal framing. Martha waited for Padenton to tell her it was okay to approach rather than running up in eagerness.
"I'm sorry Martha, I don't have the key for the display box but you can look at the names through the glass," he said.
"That's okay Padenton, I don't need to touch it I just need to take a gander at it and choose a name," she said.
The list sat peacefully in the glass case lying on a blue velvet pillow that took up the entire bottom; the most important document in the kingdom some would say now graced her eyes. The glass was fogged and looked unkempt for some time, smudged and worn in some spots but she found an opening to see the names. Martha read the names from top to bottom in repeating fashion. She closed her eyes and read them again without sight.
"There we go." She held her finger over the glass pointing. "Jovander Cordin, his name will do just fine," she said and turned to face Padenton. "Again Padenton, thank you so much."
"It was no trouble at all Martha, glad I could help and good luck with your report, instructor Claiden can be a stifling old canker," he said and gave a smile.
It unsettled her to put Padenton in such a position and play him for a fool, but Irons do what they must to get the information they seek, even if that means spewing false tales and giving pouty demeanors.
By the time Martha had finished writing a reply to Godzton and stood ready to leave, Lacy had entered the room. Martha's eyes were sparkling over a wide grin and Lacy asked, "What are you so happy about?" Lacy ran a cloth to her wet nose and snorted.
"Godzton asked for my help in a matter," Martha said.
"Aren't you the seasoned Iron," Lacy japed with a playful smile. "And what matter did your man need your help with?"
"He wanted me to get the names of the Crown List."
"How did you convince Archivist Edverc to show you the Crown List?" He's a snarky old bastard who asks a hundred questions to anyone who needs to look at his things," Lacy said.
Martha had a playful thought. "Well, he is snarky as you say." She gave a smile and a batting of her eyes. "But he succumbs to a very giving man at the fondling of a woman's breast," Martha said and gave a sleek stare.
Lacy's watery eyes began to blink erratically, her mouth fell open, and she flung her hands to her chest. "You what, oh my, you what?" she asked gasping sickly in disbelief.
Martha burst into laughter and laid her hand to Lacy's shoulder. "I'm kidding you fool. Archivist Edverc wasn't there, Padenton was, and I just charmed him with my words," she said and Lacy's shock faded and she regained control of her breathing. "The Gods Lacy, I'm not a strumpet. Really!"
"Oh, you are so cruel." Lacy said and stuttered a laugh and a hard sniffle.
Martha pecked a gracious kiss on her cheek. "I'm heading this down to the carrier post, back in a bit," she said and flung from the room.
Chapter 14.
The lit fireplace on the sidewall did not comfort Willem's agitated state. A tapestry of Theymonhal's sigil, a white eagle perched on a shield of gold draped the wall behind the steward's empty chair. He was told once, that the steward made sure the banner was hung, but only when she summoned him, to serve as a reminder of who was in charge. Willem shifted in his chair, dabbed his fingers at the swath of sweat under his lip and sighed. The powder blue of the walls did nothing to hide the bricks age, the heat was unbearable, and there was no wine to sip. The pettiness of Lady Jillian Cyndil to make sure he was uncomfortable was not lost on him.
Lady Jillian did not share in his sense of courtesy to be on time. It was of no surprise though the woman was egotistical in her fabricated world
of self-worth. He did not think a person of such gullible and submissive qualities to be worthy of a province stewardship.
All Freethinkers share the same traits, but she was the worst. Preaching but never practicing, demanding tolerance but never giving any, she was beyond naive. Only open to the ideologue she deemed the true way while ignoring all the evidence to the contrary, much like the king. Nevertheless, Willem would play the part of a respectable noble even in the presence of those he despised.
Lady Jillian came through the door and paid Willem a sharp eye as she took her seat behind the table. "Thank you for coming Lord Willem, I do apologize for my lateness," she said and fanned at her chest. "It has been most hectic around here lately with preparing for my impending celebration."
"The apology is not necessary my lady," Willem said. The charade had begun and he hid his aggravation away.
Jillian's face lightened to his words. "Will you be coming?"
"Yes, my invitation came just the other day." He knew the invitation was for mere appearances and she was just playing the part of a proper steward.
"Wonderful." Her voice echoed with thrill but her face did not show it.
Willem shifted his head and tightened his gaze as he cracked each finger on his left hand with his thumb. "My lady if we can handle the matter for which you have summoned me here for quickly, I do have a very busy day ahead of me."
"Yes of course. As you know, the refurbishing of the Barrens points is running over schedule, not to mention its occupants make the work more troublesome. I have been able to bargain with some of the more influential figures in the borough yet problems still persist," she said.
"I find haggling with such indigent people to be rather fruitless. It instills an attitude of self-entitlement that they pass onto their liters. A generation that believes they are owed prosperity for simply being born is no generation this world needs. No matter what you offer them, they simply will want more and will only favor you so long as you bend. Perhaps taking your city guard and issuing a cleansing would ease the troubles of your hobby."
"Well Lord Willem, not everyone is as fortunate as you or I, and I think it is our duty to help our fellow man. I know it's a belief that Stoneskins think pointless--"
"Handouts are not help, our fellow man does not seem to have trouble acquiring coin to drown away their sorrows for hours on end or partake in nightsolts until their minds are beyond reach. And do not imply to align me with stance on either side of the political field my lady. My beliefs are my own they were not given to me by some delusional sheppard tending his mindless flock."
"Please forgive me Lord Willem, but I do not need advice on my citizens, I need resolve."
"It was not advice," he said. The steward was too absent-minded to hear the insult, at no surprise to him. "What is it you need from me then, Lady Jillian?"
"Most of the stone we had on reserve has been stolen, what is left, ruined by vandals and I would like to procure replacement from your quarry."
"And what measures will you take to see that any I provide will be safeguarded?"
He would not bother to bring to light it was his loaned coin that bought the stone in the first place. But the steward did not want the stone from his mine then, just his coin. It was not farfetched to think she had forgotten this fact.
"I have instituted a group of volunteers to guard the provisions, day, and night."
"Too generous you've been to helping the King's war effort with you guards." Willem would bet one gold coin, triple or nothing her hired men consisted of nothing more than burned out fiends and cutthroats. "Do you plan to pay now or will this be added to the climbing debt?"
Jillian lowered her head and locked her fingers. "The treasury will have allocated funds by month's end. I'm afraid though I wouldn't be able to pay the full amount by then, but should be able to offer a sum over time."
"So another loan, very well then I shall see to it," he said. The woman had no shame and at this rate, all of Fleslinburg would be drowning in liability to his house before it was all over. A steward who puts their province in debt under foolish mind was a danger to the people more so than any plague.
He leaned forward to stand and Jillian said, "There is one more thing, Lord Willem."
"What is it?" Willem grumbled and settled back into his chair. He knew she could not resist now that the pleasantries were out of the way. The bemused Freethinker was too predictable.
"I received a message from the village of Jelden that a tavern there played host to a violent quarrel recently. Apparently, a group of men took to beating each other, roughed up the owner of the establishment as well. The place was trashed quite badly and set on fire I'm told, but thankfully the flames were extinguished before any serious damage was done," she said.
"That is a terrible thing my lady but what exactly do the actions of drunken men fighting with one another have to do with me?"
"Well Lord Willem, the message identified one group bearing the sigil of House Mathayus."
He raised a brow and leaned to the side of his chair and said, "And the other group?"
"House Valhur I'm told."
"My lady this is the first time I'm hearing of this." He played coy. "Two hundred gold coin to the tavern and four hundred to the town I should think would show ample enough apology," he said. The money was of no concern to him if it excused him quicker from such a trivial meeting.
Jillian stared with a disapproving glare. "You need to have better control of your men Lord Willem, with fewer guards around it doesn't mean your house has free reign to do as it likes and indulge in ancient feuds."
"No it does not my lady but my house has long been a financier of Fleslinburg for generations and has never halted to loan coin to the sitting Lord's or Lady's of Theymonhal to fund their agendas... no matter how foolish they may be." He reached up and rubbed his eyebrow. "So I would think overlooking such minor infractions of pickled minds would not be too much to ask. I don't recall seeing Lord Edwin Valhur in your waiting hall!"
"I'm afraid the duties of a Province Steward to her people must be tended to no matter how minor they may be." She cupped her hands and smirked. "Regardless of which house... or shady unlawful group they belong to."
Willem gazed across the table piercing her with narrow eyes taken aback by her suggestion and pitch. As foolish, as she was the dimwitted steward had her moments of brash and sharp tongue. Making implications to the rumors of his involvement within the Eldafienden when she had no evidence to do so sharpened his mood.
"My lady I do not entertain the words of wild tongues regarding my house any more than I do about a Province Stewards fornicating climb to power or cheating other half." Willem returned her a smirk of his own. The insinuation cut her like a razor and embarrassment crept onto her face before she hid it away.
Stories of her affair with King Norindale many years back and the whoring around of her husband were well known. Jillian's smug face drained and the trembling to lash out fluttered at her chin. Willem would only maintain so much composure before reminding her that his mask of courtesy was only to hide, not restrain.
"Very well, since our business is done when can I let Jelden know to expect your apology?" Jillian stuttered, almost choking on the words.
"A day," Willem said and stood to leave. "Please give my regards to Sir Lawrence my lady I hear the castle staff has been treating the young knight very well." He gave a final strike with a great sword of nastiness to her fractured emotions. Willem bowed then left, feeling her glare pressing at his back.
He descended the castle steps with a fury. The Province Steward and he played these childish games far too often he thought. The castle guardsmen stood staring at him as he hustled across the courtyard to his waiting carriage surrounded by four of his guardsmen on horses. The days temper had been set and dealing with intolerable Province Stewards was not over. He signaled the coachman with a snap of his fingers and entered his carriage slamming the door behind him.
Barrens Point peaked down narrow alleys of refined buildings and streets to his passing eyes. It was a lost cause and a sickness that would infect the entire city under Lady Jillian's rule. Theymonhal's blemish was growing under leniency to the point fire would be the only way to cleanse it. Willem shook his head and turned his eyes from the site of failure.
The day had grown by the time he had entered into Blispryce Forest under guard. Koblersrift was his secluded estate where he held court over the Eldafienden away from prying eyes. Resting deep in the forest the manor stood of gray brick with a large defense wall adorned with gargoyles of pitted stone perched atop its corners and the dense woodland cluttered to the outside wall pressing to get in.
Willem stepped out and glanced at Dame Shiva by the other carriage in the courtyard. The muted knight stood with three guards at her flank. He sneered and stirred with agitation. Another summons by another person he loathed. He would rather wipe the ass of a titan bear than deal with Lady Maven but she was a council member of the Order and it was his duty.
The center hall stood decorated under the painted eyes of blood long passed. He pushed open the doors into the council chamber where Geryn, the custodian of the estate, sat on a small royal couch to the side of the room. Willem had not seen his advisor since his return from Northanos.
Lady Maven stood, hip cocked, at the round table of oiled oak, dressed in a crimson corset of leather and a long black silk dress split up the side. Willem found no pleasure in her voluptuous frame as others did. Her appalling character would not allow a smidgen of appealing thought to him. Dressing in such a way rather than in attire more beholding of a Province Steward made her look like a high-end whore, Willem thought, as he observed her.
"Lady Maven," Willem said as he took his seat at the table. "You are a long way from home, do what do I owe the honor?"