Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1)

by Michael Ruger

  That didn’t make me even a little happy. Trapped here while Dalia was being held by Callisandra? Not Hardly.

  “Think. Use the skills learned on all these investigations of yours. I have far more resources available here than you could possibly have. Wandering around a city you barely know, while constables look for the “murderer” and arsonist who set part of a block alight is foolish. In fact, the only thing probably keeping Dalia alive is the fact that Callisandra doesn’t know where you are. You know too much about his crimes, more than enough to get him strangled as a traitor to his oath to Lord Cabor Klaris. He will keep Dalia alive as long as he thinks he has a chance to get to you. Once he has you, then your life and Dalia’s no longer serve useful purpose. He will kill you and drop your body in some well where no one will ever find it. The only way you can help Dalia right now is by staying safe and staying alive.” He was calm, I’ll give him that. I was seething, but he was cool as water. Worse then his unshakable demeanor, he was right damn it and I knew it.

  “What do you expect me to do, sit here and drink bourbon all night?”

  “That is one option, although I do not recommend it. You will need to be sharp tomorrow and a hangover can’t make that easy.” He smiled as James came in and received orders to get the carriage out again and put his best pair of blacks back into harness. The instructions came fast and furious; a bath to be drawn for me and his personal physician and his tailor to be summoned at once. It was easy to tell that he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

  “Personally, I would recommend the bath, some food and rest. My personal healer will attend you. He is loyal to my house.” He turned to go but paused at the doorframe. “And certainly a visit with my tailor is in order. He can be here in an hour or so. Those clothes you are wearing are not appropriate for a Naming Day ceremony and certainly not for my son. You need something that befits who you are.”

  “Look, I appreciate it, but that’s not me. The closest I get to fancy is well pressed pinstripe suit.”

  “That is as may be, but you are my son and you have claimed a Noble’s privilege. You have claimed the name of Melliscant and it is right and proper that you be dress as befits the House of Melliscant. Remember, claiming my name carries not only privilege but responsibility as well. You are a Melliscant and you will dress the part!” He finished with a flourish and a dramatic exit.

  I smiled. That speech was pure fey. I wondered, if maybe deep in the house, there was room, suitably warded where Fey nobles went to practice that kind of thing. Maybe they did a bunch of different ones and saved them up for every occasion. I guess it didn’t really matter because he was right. My makeshift clothes were good enough in dim light and for the street but would never pass muster in a proper ceremony and it looked like I was going to have one whether I wanted it or not.

  I sat back in the comfortable chair and tried to rest. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep. Whether it was Jervalas Stormcrow’s hell brew or worry about Dalia or grief over Marty, it just wouldn’t come. It was hard to believe that it had only been a day since he died. To me it felt like a bridgeless, unfathomable gap, a distant land that I could see but never get to.

  After about an hour, another Fey showed up who looked to be a chimera, like me. I couldn’t tell exactly and it is considered rude to ask so I waited for him to tell me what he wanted. It turned out that he was a tailor who was being paid an obscene amount of dough to gussy me up. He was very insistent.

  How long he took measurements and showed me swatches of cloth, I’m not sure. When he finally he had enough he created an illusion of what he was going to create for me. It was a little disconcerting to see a double of myself so stylishly dressed and smiling at me. The clothes that he showed me were intricate and handsome and I told him so, nevertheless, I think he was a little disappointed that I didn’t have more suggestions for him. I think he was more used to customers who were really into court fashions and knew their own tastes well enough to ask for exactly what they wanted within the bounds of current taste. My only input was “nothing too flashy” which I suppose was not of much help.

  I have to say that he did really fine work. I looked damned good. I’m not sure if it was the current fashion or not but he seemed to think it would pass the court’s and more importantly, my father’s muster.

  When the physician showed up he was friendly enough but had enough of a haughty manner that he was either a doctor or a Fey. As he was both you can probably get some kind of idea of how high handed he was. Smug as he was, he knew what he was doing. It didn’t take too long for him to fix me up. He was, as you might figure, a practitioner of the craft. He healed all the superficial stuff pretty quickly, although the effort made me lightheaded. Healing magic is like that. Too much of it can use you up.

  He tried to do something about the headache that I’d had since I got the concussion in the first firefight. He frowned and when I asked him what his problem was he said there was some kind of stimulant running through my system that he didn’t know of or approve of. I told him about Stormcrow’s little pick me up and he informed that just taking such things was a bad idea and interfered with his work. He was leery of giving me any kind or drug or magical aid because he wasn’t sure what kind of interaction it might have and that what I really needed was a few days rest. I told him not to worry about it and that after tomorrow I could rest as long as it took, one way or another. I don’t think he liked the way I said it, but I didn’t give a damn.

  My father came home at some point, but I don’t know when it was. The sleep that had escaped me finally made itself present and I dozed. I almost wish I hadn’t. It wasn’t restful. The dreamed of Marty and Dalia and my long ago torture session, only this time I was asking the questions with them alternating in the hotseat. Neither of them knew anything but the questions kept coming. I wanted to wake up from that but I couldn’t. I kept seeing Kevin’s severed head whispering unintelligible, sweet nothings in my ears. The scene would shift and I would find myself at the Nasoni mound, trying to open the gate while my friends were being slaughtered by Jeryn Callisandra. I dreamed of my father and my grandfather and both pulling at me, trying to tear me in half.

  It was early morning when my father awoke me. He probably hadn’t any sleep at all but he looked a hell of a lot fresher than I did.

  “What time is it?” I asked as I rose stretched. I regretted it almost immediately. Despite the doctor’s ministrations, I was sore from head to foot.

  “It is midmorning. The ceremony will begin in two hours. We can leave whenever you wish. It will only take a score of minutes to arrive,” He seemed calm. I guessed that whatever he was planning was ready to go.

  “I’d like to get there early so we can see who arrives. It can help to avoid unpleasant surprises. I have had too many of those lately.” He nodded. A servant shoved a mug of hot java into my hand. It was incredibly strong and inexplicably delicious. I wonder what the penalty was for stealing a servant who actually knew how to make coffee was.

  “What have you been up to all night?” I asked.

  He smiled that Fey smile that always reminded me of a puzzle that can’t ever quite be solved.

  “I have been making arrangements for the ceremony. I have called in favors from family and friends to make sure that nothing goes wrong. My servants have spent much of the night notifying various members of my family that there presence is required to greet a new scion of House Melliscant. Any who wish to remain in my favor will be there.”

  “We don’t want too big a crowd! It might scare Callisandra away.” Today would probably be my one chance to get her back. Nothing could interfere with that.

  “Do not worry my son. Everything has been arranged. All will play out as I have planned. We will have Dalia back and Jeryn Callisandra will be yours to take vengeance against. I give my word as your father.” Knowing how hard he hard worked to be able to say that to me reassured me. I knew I was out of my depth on this one. I just had to wait until
the right time to make my move.

  As I drained the cup of coffee he motioned to another aide who came up carrying a scarred wooden case. I could see that the top of the case carried the crest of my house. How odd for me to think that way. My House. A day ago I wouldn’t have wanted to be a Melliscant or if I could arrange it, a Fey.

  “Before we leave, I feel you should have this, at least for today.” He opened the case and inside was a sword. It was a long blade, nearly three foot from tip to hilt. It looked old and while it was well maintained, it carried few adornments. The scabbard was plain but well oiled. I could that it was scratched and I could see more signs of battle on the hilt itself. It reeked of age and use, but appeared to be anything but unloved or uncared for. It was obvious I was puzzled because before I could ask he explained what I was seeing.

  “This is an honor blade. It carries the honor of our house. It has seen combat on many occasions and carries the scars of conflict. It has been captured, but always ransomed or recovered. While I have better swords and certainly have more luxurious swords, no blade I possess says ‘Melliscant’ more than this one. It has been present at our victories and our defeats. It has been bloodied but its honor is unstained. It is fit and proper that you wear it today to your Naming Ceremony for today you gain not just a name but your family as well. As my son, you will carry my honor into the future.” He held the sword and scabbard out to me

  I wasn’t sure what to say to all that. It seemed like an awful lot for a professional snoop like me, let alone a beat up sword to live up to. He was obviously expecting me to say something and I probably would have known what the protocol was if I had been raised here, but I didn’t so wing it was all I could do.

  “I thank you for this honor and I will wear this sword in honor today and will always try to act with honor and not bring shame on our house.” I took the sword from his hands. “I pledge this on my name and with my personal honor.”

  He smiled and I knew that even if they weren’t the exact right words they satisfied him. I carefully buckled on the sword and smoothed out any wrinkles that may have been created by my fitful sleep.

  My father looked me up and down and I knew for the first time since my grandfather died what it was to bask in the glow of parental approval. It made me a little giddy, like a double shot of bourbon on an empty stomach will do, but it was as fine a feeling as I have ever known. We said nothing as we left the house and went into the courtyard where a finally matched set of horses waited to draw us to my Naming Day ceremony.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I knew it was a trap when I saw him. Try as I might now to find some other way I might have resolved it, nothing but minor modifications of my decisions come to me. I made the best choices I could with the knowledge I had. Maybe things would have turned out differently if I had known a few things then that I know now, but maybe not.

  I was nervous, watching the roads pass as we neared the Court of Dawn proper. I was mainly nervous because I wasn’t sure what to expect. My father had told me that relatives and friends of his would be there to give me a proper Naming Day ceremony or at least as proper as he could arrange in such a short time. My efforts in directing the conversation toward the situation regarding Dalia were politely but deftly sidestepped. He told me that was plenty of time to deal with that after I was named.

  The carriage slowed and finally stopped and I heard my father’s driver dismount. He stepped towards us and ducked his head around through the open window of the carriage.

  “I am sorry my lord, but there seems to be some dispute between two cart men ahead.” He frowned for a moment. “It seems to be getting worse. Should I call for the bodyguards to clear the road of rabble?”

  “James,” he smiled, “We don’t call them rabble, even if they act like it.” He thought for a moment. “No, I think we can wait a few moments or just take another path if need be.” He relaxed back in his seat. But I didn’t.

  It was too coincidental and I hate coincidences. They are almost never what they seem. This one was certainly no different.

  I saw him at the edge of the small crowd that had gathered to watch the cart men argue about who had the right of way. He made sure I couldn’t have missed him and the same time kept concealed as much as possible. It’s a gift I suppose, but tailing at the Court of Dawn isn’t that much different than tailing any where in the mortal world. He was pretty good, but Marty was about the only guy I know who could shadow me without getting caught and even his record wasn’t a shutout.

  It was a dwarf. The same one I had seen with Jeryn Callisandra’s crew. He wasn’t exactly trying to stand out, but he was trying to catch my eye. Once he did, he casually point to a lock blonde hair pinned to the edge of his cloak. Bastard. I suppose there was some miniscule chance that it was someone else’s but I figured it was Dalia’s. Our eye’s locked and he nodded once and pointed to the lock of hair. He wanted to talk. So did I, but I had hoped that it might be my Glock that did the talking. No such luck today.

  My father looked relaxed, at least I thought so at the time, and when I said I wanted to stretch my legs for a bit while we were waiting I thought I saw his eyes narrow a bit, but I dismissed it. Had I known him better I would have recognized it for what it was, agitation and concern. But he said nothing and didn’t stop me from getting out of the carriage. When my feet hit the ground I looked around and saw that the argument continued. I took it for granted that it was probably staged to stop my coach. I was equally sure that this was a trap and it might get me killed. But the first step to avoiding a trap is being aware of its existence. Besides, damn it, it might be my only chance to save Dalia and I was willing to risk it, I had lost too much already.

  I glanced about and saw that Fey wearing the livery of the house of Melliscant were about, infiltrating the edge of the crowd, but they were moving toward the coach. These guys were good. They saw this whole thing as a potential danger as I did and they were trying to secure the primary, my father and make sure he was safe. It was a stroke of luck for me. They were distracted.

  I moved through the crowd easily. Most inhabitants of the Court avoid getting in the way of highborn Fey, which dressed as I was, I certainly appeared to be, because drawing the attention of the mighty is never a good idea at Court or in the mortal world.

  The dwarf stood at the back the crowd, his back against the wall but with a handy corner to duck around if he should need it. His arms were crossed and while I didn’t see any drawn weapons, I was sure that he was probably bristling with them. He was about average height for dwarf about 4’5”. His beard was scandalously short for a dwarf, but I understand from a dwarf that drinks at the Silver Tree that is currently in fashion to wear a little shorter than waist length. I figured he kept it short so he could get it under the Black Watch helmet. His face showed his experience. He smiled a knowing little smile and nodded to me as I got a closer.

  “I told Serlisch he was fool to try and take you without help, especially being blind in one eye like he was. But he was always like that. Never could get that guy to listen but hell, a lot of you tall fey are like that. Think you’re the Creator’s gift to the Court. I guess he found out different pinned up against that burning counter, didn’t he?” He grinned and played with the blonde lock on his cloak.

  “You don’t seem too broke up about it. Did I do you a favor?”

  “Naw, don’t get the wrong idea Underwood. I would have killed you just as soon as he would have, but that wasn’t the time or the mission, see? With Serlisch it was always personal. It had to be for him to get into it. Hell, it was always about honor or some damn fool thing he believed. It was just rationalization so he could live with himself and what he did. Me? I got no illusions. It’s all about business. I got a mission, I do it as best I can. Mission goes south; it’s nothing to me, just a deal gone bad. Plenty of other deals out there that might go right. You start takin’ things personal, you can get yourself killed.” He turned and looked down the alley, checkin
g his line of escape. “By the way, I’ll take that sword, if you don’t mind. You ain’t supposed to be any good with a blade but you couldn’t tell it by Serlisch.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it gets back to yer house whatever happens. You’re father’s a real stickler about this kind of thing. Take it from me. I wouldn’t want to be on his bad list, you don’t last there for too long. He takes the honor stuff personally and he’s got a bad temper and long memory and damned competent when it comes to vendettas and that, my friend, is a very bad combination.” I unbuckled the sword and regrettably handed it to him.

  “Take you for instance. There is no sane reason why you should walk down this alley with me. I already tried to kill ya once and you know I work for a guy that basically thinks he has to have you dead if he has any chance of getting out of this jackpot he’s in, it’s crazy for you to do it, but I make it 5 to 2 odds that you will.” I nodded.

  “See? That’s crazy.” He turned to the alley. “Now maybe you gotta plan. Maybe you think that you’ll get me in the alley and start kicking the shit out of me and get me to tell you where your girlfriend is.” He looked up into my eyes assessing my mood.

  “The thought has occurred to me.” Besides, I thought, beating the hell of this guy would certainly make me feel better.

  “Nah. You don’t want to do that. Firstly, because I hired some local muscle to help deal with any such situation. Yeah, they ain’t too good, not in your league or mine, but there is a bunch of them, too many to take easy. Second, I won’t even know where we need to go until I get to the first checkpoint. By that time, You won’t be in a position to do much but come along quietly.” He paused for moment. “I don’t suppose you’re one of those honorable types are you? Give your word that you’ll cooperate and keep it? On your house honor or some crap like that?”