by Rick Field
She drew quite a bit of attention, arriving at the breakfast table with her staff in hand. Sitting down as if nothing was out of the ordinary, she placed her staff right next to her, where it remained perfectly upright, balancing on its tip. Ignoring the stares of the other breakfasters, she merely wished everyone a good morning, and helped herself to some food.
She glanced at Lord Marcel. He was watching her with the sort of cold, calculating gaze that indicated he didn't know what to make of her. She knew she'd rattled him, and that he was trying to figure out how much she knew. This was the reason she hated politics. She knew something. He knew that she knew something. But how much did he know that she knew, and how would he react to it?
She ate sedately, as if everything was beneath her. Her Pillar's robes were charmed for anonymity, they hid her eyes and facial features perfectly, which made her even harder to read. If she played to the strengths of her robes, she could portray the superior Noble without difficulty.
The Pillar finished her meal around the same time as the other people at the table; most left as quickly as they could. They could feel the tension in the air, knew something was wrong, and wanted to be far away from it.
“May I ask why you decided to bring a weapon to breakfast, My Lady?” the General asked as they sipped tea. Grand Spice, not exactly Liane's favorite, but enough to get her up and going after the horrific night.
“For the same reason you decided to bring a weapon to a meeting with me yesterday, My Lord,” Nadia replied calmly, taking another sip from her tea. Let the man think she was returning insult for insult.
“I see,” the General said, with the sort of tone that indicated he didn't care for it one bit. “Perhaps you would care to return your staff to the stand now?”
Nadia turned to fully face him, knowing very well that the hood's charms would make it appear as if she had no face at all. He would be faced with a hood that surrounded the deepest darkness, an unsettling experience under the best of times. The very fact that he knew her to be displeased had to add to the intimidating atmosphere. “Perhaps My Lord wishes to disarm me?” she asked. “Is there a specific reason for such?”
“Of course not, My Lady. You are safe within my walls,” Lord Marcel answered coolly.
She continued to stare at him. “And yet, you came to a meeting with me while late and fully armed, offered neither explanation nor excuse, were needlessly short and dismissed important safety concerns for the entire island, and this morning you wish me disarmed. My Lord, I believe you are hiding something and would like to offer you the chance to take Truth Serum. I will be making note of my experiences and observations in my report to the Pillar Service. Your complete honestly would be recommended at this point.”
Lord Marcel remained calm; calmer than she had imagined he would be. After the challenge she had just dropped in his lap, she would have expected anything other than a non-reaction, and it was at that point that she realized just who she was dealing with. Here was a General, a fully trained General schooled in the arts of combat and used to the intrigues at court.
As angry as he had been the day before, so cool was he this day. “I do not believe I will need to answer anything to the Pillar Service, Pillar. I have offered support and have given it. It appears, however, that you have found fault with how I conduct myself within the walls of my own home. Perhaps you would feel to offer challenge?”
She blinked, and gaped at him. She composed herself immediately, and counted herself lucky that her robes had hidden her surprise. He had taken her challenge, and raised it. She was faced with a choice now – either offer challenge, or back down. “I see no cause to offer challenge, My Lord,” Nadia spoke, trying to sound far calmer than she actually was. “I merely offered Truth Serum in an effort to clear up various misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstandings that are serious enough to warrant the use of privacy-intrusive Truth Serum, My Lady?” Marcel asked, sounding halfway outraged. For a moment, she was about to reply to the tone before she realized that the man was faking it. He was good at Decorum, far better than she could ever hope to be. He had been raised in it, had known nothing else his entire life, and there was little that she could do against it with the skills that she acquired after coming to the Academy.
“Perhaps, perhaps not, My Lord,” Nadia said, trying to save face. They both knew it for a fallacy. The moment she backed down from offering challenge, she had lost the argument. The Lord of the manor just nodded, stood up, bade her a good day and left. She noticed that he had been unarmed. She'd come armed to a breakfast table where her host was unarmed. No wonder he'd reacted so strongly – she had basically offered challenge the moment she crossed the door. Nadia cursed to herself; she'd assumed that he would have been bearing arms, as he always seemed to do so.
She sat in the empty room, sipping her cooled tea. She'd committed a major faux-pas, and wondered if it had changed the man's opinion of her, and if or when he would come to make her disappear. She returned to her room when her tea was finished, hoping to finally be able to reach the Overseer.
The spell failed once more; causing the Pillar to sigh. She was at a crossroads, and indecision paralyzed her. Should she confront the Lord General with his participation in the conspiracy? It could potentially cause her to have to admit to Epter's existence. Without his agreement to take Truth Serum, she would have no other proof to offer. It would help this cause, but could potentially remove Epter's effectiveness in the future. She could also remove herself from the situation entirely, accept both the personal and professional blame against herself and the entire Pillar Service.
Or she could stay. Stay, and try to find further evidence of Lord Marcel's involvement in the conspiracy. She was a Pillar. He may be a rebel, but there was a good chance he wouldn't attack her. She was in his home, under his roof, covered by his protection. Should he decide to attack her, it would be an affront to the rules of hospitality.
Granted, both of them had committed errors against hospitality already, but his attacking her while she was staying under his roof would cause him to lose all standing amid the other Nobility. He may have stated that he could make her 'disappear' – but she was Nadia of the Black Marsh, otherwise known as Liane, the MagicWarper. She was a Pillar of Kiria, one of the chosen Nobles charged with the protection of the Empire. There was no chance of him simply making her vanish, nor would he be stupid enough to try. One didn't become General of the Kirian army by being an idiot.
What was she to do? Running was out of the question, it would ruin her reputation and standing, and it would be a blame against the entire Pillar Service as well. She could attempt option one, and bluff her way through. Reveal her knowledge but not her source and try to force him to submit to Truth Serum questioning.
Or she could stay as she was, and find further evidence of the conspiracy, before forcing the General to submit to Truth Serum questioning.
He wouldn't attempt to 'disappear' her – not while she was still under his roof. For once, she was glad of Decorum's strict rules of behavior, this time they would safeguard her for as long as she was under Lord Marcel's roof.
A knock at the door disturbed her thoughts. The Pillar took a few moments to ensure her hood was up and her identity was safe, before admitting her caller.
It was the same handmaiden as usual. Apparently, the girl had been delegated to her for the duration of her stay. “Pardon my intrusion, My Lady, but My Lord has requested your presence in his study.”
Her heart bounced. Lord Marcel, calling on her? “Very well,” Liane replied. “I will join him at my earliest convenience.”
The servant bowed herself out, obviously intimidated by Nadia's cloaked persona. For a moment, Nadia was amused; it was good to see that the Pillar's robes did the job they were designed for. Readying herself, she grabbed her staff and walked downstairs to the Lord of the Manor's study room. She had a confrontation to have.
She planted her staff, tip-first, on the ground right out
side the office. It balanced itself perfectly and would be waiting for her right outside the room. After her earlier mistake, she wasn't about to take her weapon into his office, but neither would it be far away from her should she require it.
Deciding on being polite, Nadia knocked and waited. Upon his request, she entered. Lord Marcel was working on some papers, but he looked up and sat back upon her entrance. “Please have a seat, My Lady,” he invited, his tone bordering on 'order' rather than 'request'. Once more settling on doing the polite thing, she sat.
He steepled his fingers and looked at her, and for a moment she had an uncomfortable flashback to being in the Lord Master's office. She shook off the strange sensation, and merely remained silent. When it appeared that he was not going to say anything, she took the lead.
“You asked to see me, My Lord?” she requested politely. “Perhaps you have changed your mind regarding the Truth Serum?”
His steepled fingers drummed against each other, the only hint betraying that he had heard her. “Perhaps you would like to explain, My Lady, why you saw it fit to come to the breakfast table bearing arms?” he requested in turn.
“I was merely following My Lord's example, as he saw fit to bear arms when he came to greet me yesterday,” Nadia answered calmly. “I merely assumed that custom in My Lord's house dictated that one bore arms at all times.”
“I see,” he answered calmly, a grating undertone in his voice showing his displeasure at her remark. He lapsed into silence once more, seemingly counting on his physique and presence to intimidate her. It was a foolish notion; she was a Pillar. She was not intimidated by his power, his title, or his overwhelming physique.
He wouldn't dare attack her, she knew he was all roar and no claws as long as she remained under his roof. “Perhaps My Lord wishes to reconsider his testimony at this point,” Nadia offered when the silence dragged on. She straightened her spine and set her shoulders. It was time to bluff. If she could use her knowledge to get him to confess, she would not need to reveal her source. “It has come to my attention that My Lord had a surreptitious meeting with a suspicious person late last night. A person that seemed to know about the sabotage done to the Great Barrier, more so, a person who seemed to be the mastermind who executed said sabotage.”
Lord Marcel's shoulders hitched for just a moment, and she could see his lips thinning. “I also came to know that My Lord has promised this strange character that he would manage to make this humble servant of the Empire 'disappear'. As this very notion is rather ridiculous, I once more offer Truth Serum so My Lord may prove his innocence. I am sure that the Serum will reveal nothing more than an independent undercover investigation by My Lord and that he needed to maintain his persona with this strange saboteur.”
Lord Marcel gave no outward reactions to her declaration. His fingers remained steepled, his lips remained thin; his shoulders remained set.
But his eyes.
His eyes burned. She could see the anger smoldering in his eyes, could see how much her knowledge had shocked him, angered him, and drove him into a corner.
It was at that point that she knew she had made a mistake. A cornered Noble would fight as two.
“Then, My Lady, you do know too much. I had hoped to be able to convince you to leave. I don't know how or where you received your information from, but I cannot allow you to leave. Please surrender, I will treat you honorably as a captive in battle. You will be treated well and with respect. You are a Pillar, a servant of the Empire. I do not wish to kill you.”
His offer was fair, a standard offer made between Noble Families about to engage in feud. It was the very fact that he offered it to her now that shocked her.
“I am afraid I cannot accept your terms, My Lord. You have chosen to make an enemy out of the Empire, and have collaborated with its enemies. For a man in your position, this is inexcusable. However, allow me to make the counter-offer. Please accept Truth Serum questioning, reveal all that you know regarding this conspiracy, and you will be treated as a man befitting your position. I too, do not wish to fight you.”
“That would basically condemn me to either life in prison, or execution, My Lady. Death by your hand or death by the executioner hold very little difference,” he answered, the anger burning in his eyes slowly overtaking the rest of his body. She saw his hands slip apart, his right hand edging below his desk.
She could feel his sword before she saw it, and barely managed to duck out of the way before the magical weapon split his desk, her chair, and draw a deep slit in the floor and up the wall, almost to the ceiling.
“You truly are a Pillar,” the man commented, slashing at her again. With reflexes honed by years of duels with Milor, she rolled out of the way, coming to her feet straight out of the roll and sprinting to the door.
It was magically sealed. Another charge was being readied, and she literally shoved with arms and legs, pushing herself away from the barred exit, narrowly dodging the strike. The sword's magic met the barred door, and Liane grinned when the General's own attack crashed through the protective enchantment, splintering the thick wooden door.
She didn't wait for him to recompose himself, charged out the door as fast as her legs could cover the distance, and grabbed her staff. Behind her, she could feel the unbridled power of the ancient enchanted weapon. Within her chest, her magic trembled, exuding pressure on the back of her mind. Her heart pounded, her lungs opened, the icy prickling sensation of adrenaline flowed through her veins.
Another strike was coming. She flipped around, and rammed the tip of her staff to the ground with both hands. “ENOUGH!”
The magic from Nadia's staff met the power of the ancient weapon, both momentarily fighting for dominance before the strike diverted itself. For the first time in fifteen seconds, she stared Lord Marcel in the eye. The man was staring at her with disbelief, his weapon held in a high-guard.
The weapon suddenly lowered into a low-guard position, and a word left the general's mouth.
Nadia felt as if reality shattered about her, time suddenly flowing in reverse when his wards attempted to drain her magic in a super-charged version of the 'magical tax' system employed by the capital.
Lucifer snapped into her hand. Her staff started to shift. Her staff detected her magic being affected. The Lord's word brought the manor's wards to bear against her magic... her fingers curled harder around Lucifer's firm presence, shielding her from harm. Causality restored itself, time reverted to its regular flow. For a fraction of a moment she had experienced the unsettling sensation of holding both her disguised staff and fully released weapon simultaneously, Lucifer having deployed fully before her staff started to shift, before it even detected the wards coming to bear on Liane's magic.
Lord Marcel stared at her with his mouth agape. “Lucifer,” he whispered, aghast, staring at the weapon that now existed in Liane's hand. Made from golden metal, it was a good head taller than her, capped by a metal cage that glowed with eldritch energies. The staff's body itself was composed of eight different strands intricately woven together.
Nadia threw her hood back. The revealing of her Legendary Work had removed all doubt on her identity. “Indeed. The Light of Knowledge battling the Darkness of Ignorance, the legendary weapon known as Lucifer,” Liane snapped. “And no ward shall ever bring down my magic.”
“The MagicWarper,” the man whispered, still shocked. “They sent the MagicWarper after me.”
Liane's chuckle was dark, devoid of humor. “The MagicWarper was sent to investigate the sabotage of one of the anchors of the Great Barrier, My Lord. She was then asked to see if you had any additional information. Had you behaved appropriately, none of this would have happened. In essence, it was your own strange behavior, coupled to your illicit meeting last night, which has caused this.”
He lifted his jaw, closing his mouth, and scowled at her. “Please surrender, My Lord. You will be forced to submit to Truth Serum-” She didn't get to finish her statement as his sword flashed
in an upward swing that made her dodge out of the way with reactions guided half by Lucifer's split-second precognition and her own magic's desire to safeguard her from harm.
He was in her personal space moments later, going to full accelerated speeds with no spell-indications. His weapon came down from the high-guard position. Lucifer came up to block with a fluid movement that was supernaturally smooth; either her arm's trained reactions guided Lucifer, Lucifer's split-moment precognition guided her arm, or they both guided each other.
The ancient permanently enchanted sword, charged with the magic of wielders spanning back hundreds of years, met the body of a legendary work completed mere years earlier. The sharpened blade struck the woven metal staff, the angle of the latter deflecting the strike of the former in a shower of magical and mundane sparks.
Liane whispered her own acceleration spell, riding the shock of synesthesia with practiced ease, her panting breaths tasting of dark chocolate, bitter and strong. Sweat started to form on her skin, her heart's pounding rhythm increasing astride her lungs' breathing. For a moment, Lord Marcel stared at his weapon, as if unable to believe it had failed once more.