The swashbuckler shook his head after the spell had taken effect. “My wound is incurable,” he said flatly. “I have seen men sustain such wounds and they have never walked again.”
“It might be,” I admitted with a nod, “but it also might not be. We’ll see later tonight.”
A few minutes later, Pi’Vari returned down the stairs to the cavernous chamber, followed by a pair of servants from Wiegraf Estate. Their prompt reply was impressive, and after they had secured Trayvin to their stretcher-like sling they returned to the Estate, leaving us to continue on to the banquet.
Chapter XXVI: Queen’s Gambit Accepted
As we approached Listoh Estate, Pi’Vari broke the silence.
“What is your plan for him?” he asked abruptly.
“For who, Trayvin?” I asked feeling a bit blindsided.
My herald nodded in exaggerated agreement. “You cannot believe he is trustworthy,” he said matter-of-factly.
I suppressed a snicker at the idea of Pi’Vari questioning someone’s trustworthiness. “Well,” I replied thoughtfully, “I’m not so sure about that. But in any case, it’s an issue for tomorrow,” I said as we finally approached the gates of Listoh Estate. They were manned by a pair of soldiers wearing absolutely incredible golden armor, stylized in a fashion similar to the old Roman Legion.
The guards nodded silently as we passed through the gate, which was already open. Apparently the guards were there for mostly ornamental value, but I wasn’t complaining. For all I knew the banquet was a more-or-less open occasion for High Wizards of Veldyrian, and it was pretty clear that I was one of those.
The grounds of Listoh Estate were far more impressive than those of House Wiegraf, as befitted the second-most (or some would say most) powerful of Veldyrian’s Great Houses. Lining the pathway to leading from the gate to the main house were exquisite statues made of every imaginable material.
There was the curvaceous image of a life-size woman, wearing no clothing whatsoever but whose hair was so incredibly long and full that it covered everything a bathing suit would normally cover. The detail was amazing, but the most impressive part was that it was made of ice! I had seen this particular statue before, and it had not changed one bit since my last visit, suggesting it was magically maintained.
A few rows down was some sort of grey, stone, vicious-looking elephant reared up on its hind legs. It had two rows of tusks, one set positioned where I would expect, with the other pair splaying outward about fifteen degrees from the more naturally positioned ones. But none of the tusks were rounded ivory; instead, they looked like serrated blades with downward-pointing, hooked tips.
Across from that one was a creature that elicited a visceral reaction of terror, at least from me. It was fully eight feet tall and at least half as wide at the shoulders. It was roughly humanoid—save for its four arms instead of two—which were folded across its chest and the six foot long, curved horns protruding from the sides of its head. Those horns which swept back and down behind its body before bifurcating into a pair of wicked-looking points which rested beside and just in front of its thighs. The statue’s thighs were as thick as tree trunks, and ended it bovine, cloven hooves. This particular statue literally glowed with heat, which looked to be radiating from somewhere inside its overly muscular torso.
There were at least fifty such edifices lining the walkway, and we passed them as we made our way quickly into the house just as the last rays of the setting sun disappeared into the enveloping darkness. An instant after the last sliver of the sun had vanished, hundreds of small, glowing orbs appeared, connected to the buildings scattered throughout the Estate, illuminating the place just like a well-lit city street at night.
The doorway leading into the Main House was open with yet another pair of armored guards standing silent watch. I heard the gate behind us close, as apparently the invitation I received had been serious insisting that we arrive before sundown.
Just past the guards was the entryway, which was as one might expect from one of the most powerful organizations in the known world. Gold, silver, and gemstones adorned nearly every piece of furniture and works of art decorated every possible surface without creating a visual overload.
There was a well-dressed man wearing long white gloves and a black double-breasted coat waiting there, and as soon as we entered the foyer, he approached stoically.
“You are just in time,” he said coolly in the same tone Chester used, “might I have your name for the register?”
Pi’Vari stepped forward without being bidden. This was the part he loved, so there was little point in trying to manipulate him in any way.
“You have the honor of receiving my Lord and Master, Journeyman Jezran ‘Cobalt’ Wiegraf,” he replied haughtily, clearly trying to upstage the man, “scion of House Wiegraf, honorable recipient of First Selection in the three hundred and twenty fifth annual Wizard’s College Draft, and co-founder of the recently recognized school of Somnomancy.”
‘Co-founder’ was definitely stretching it a bit, but who was here to argue? Not that I cared; I just wanted to get in the place and put my proposal in front of someone with the authority to decide how much assistance to offer us.
“House Listoh has been expecting my Lord,” Pi’Vari continued without pause, “who would have been here sooner were his attention not required to settle a libelous dispute not one hour ago in the cage under the ever-watchful eye of the Magisterial Office, to whose learned justice and temperance we graciously submit ourselves as dutiful citizens of this glorious Empire, long may it endure,” he finished with a deliberate pause before straightening himself into a similarly rigid pose as the one the butler had adopted.
The butler looked down his nose at my herald for a moment before replying, “We are most honored to receive your Lord into our humble,” he hung on the last word just enough to dig it in, “estate, and hope he finds the occasion to be up to his clearly…exacting standards.”
Pi’Vari nodded agreeably. “As do I, my friend,” he replied smoothly, “for my Lord has a well-known temper.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward Dancer before leaning in close and speaking conspiratorially, “Just two weeks ago he was as large as both of us put together, but he fumbled his weapon during a practice session and now he must spend the next year looking like that.” My herald shivered visibly before finishing, “And I shudder at the thought of what fate befell the kitchen staff last month…words cannot express the horror of that scene, and I will forever pity the groundskeepers who had to clean up afterward.”
The butler was clearly unimpressed, but he marked our names down in the ledger before continuing with his well-rehearsed greeting. “Your Lord will have no further need of either his herald, or his…Champion,” he said with a long, disgusted look at Dancer. “House Listoh guarantees his safety whilst on her grounds.”
Pi’Vari nodded and clapped the butler a little harder than he should have on the shoulder. “Good! Where might we find some food, then?”1
The butler gave him a look of disdain as he gestured through a set of doors adjoining the entryway. “The servants are gathered at the end of that corridor,” he said before returning to his ledger and pretending to ignore us.
I leaned close to Pi’Vari. “What was the point of that, exactly?” I whispered. “All you’re doing is antagonizing him.”
My herald grinned mischievously as he replied, “They already believe us to be a mere annoyance, a low House with no standing or relevance. Nothing we say or do to this man will change that, so much like Dancer’s feint within the cage we must play the part well enough to lure them into a false sense of confidence—which might be later used against them.”
It made a kind of sense, I have to admit, but I wasn’t convinced it was necessary. “Just don’t start any brawls in the back room,” I insisted, “I really don’t need any more drama right now.”
The impish expression never left his face as he bowed gracefully. “Of course, my Lord,” h
e replied in his most formal tone before turning toward the corridor and walking to where the butler had indicated.
Dancer didn’t immediately follow, and I wouldn’t have even allowed him to come if not for having so little remaining time. His wounds were still weeping blood, but it wouldn’t be a problem unless he actually got into another fight. “No more fighting tonight,” I ordered and he shrugged indifferently. “I mean it,” I insisted, “we need you at full strength two days from now, and anything worse than this will take longer than that to heal, even with the proper magics.”
The little man looked like he wanted to rebel somehow, but eventually he relented. “No start fight,” he agreed.
Knowing that was probably as much as I would get out of him, I indicated for him to follow Pi’Vari, which he did after bowing with his fist over his heart. The amount of faith he put in me was humbling, and I knew that before the night was over we would find out if that faith was well-placed…or not.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before marching intently through the foyer and into the Main Hall of Listoh Estate.
The Main Hall was decorated with all manner of banners and tapestries, probably designed and crafted specifically for the occasion, after which they would likely be repurposed into clothing or some other, more useful form of textile.
The Empire was nothing if not efficient, much as it pains me to admit. It would be easier to hate the entire institution if they were as wasteful as the people I had grown up around, but the truth was that whenever possible no effort went completely wasted. Leftover foodstuffs were always processed on-site by pigs or some other form of livestock, rather than being shipped off to a landfill like in my world, and waste was harshly punished whenever it was observed.
Even the vast majority of art objects collected within the halls of the Great Houses were actually remnants of older civilizations which had been assimilated into the Empire sometime in the last four hundred years. Imperial era art was almost outlawed, as its production had to be justified by some sort of real-world purpose. The requirements such creations needed to satisfy quite clearly stated they must have some true function, rather than merely as thought-provoking objects or representations. The Imperial Doctrine of ‘Guidance by Enlightenment’ had supposedly been a core tenet for the entire six thousand year history of the Empire, and it was quite clear in its categorical condemnation of artistic expression for the sake of artistic expression.
I had still never received an adequate explanation for the inconsistency between Veldyrian’s four hundred years of recorded history and the oft-stated ‘six thousand year history’ of the Empire itself. To my knowledge, Veldyrian had never actually hosted delegates from any other Imperial City and I had never even heard the names of such cities. It made me wonder at times if the whole idea of a six thousand year old civilization was a hoax; yet another example of top-down manipulation intended to yoke the oblivious masses to the wheels driving the great Imperial machine.
I shook my head as I knew that was a contemplation for another time. Gathered within the main hall were hundreds of people, many of whom were naturally wizards belonging to House Listoh, but there were even a few wizards belonging to other houses. My eyes searched the room until I found a familiar face, but it wasn’t a welcome sight.
Looking for all the world like the star quarterback at the dance after the big game, Pryzius was surrounded by a flock of cronies a half dozen strong, most of whom were from Houses I didn’t know except by their markings and standards.
Only one member of House Listoh was present: a diminutive, black-haired girl who probably had been assigned the loathsome duty of eavesdropping on the little cadre for the entire night. I actually pitied her for having been assigned the task.
House Listoh had a disproportionate number of women among its ranks since for some reason or another, women generally made stronger practitioners of Summoning magic than men. Of course, a slight advantage in the field of Summoning wasn’t the only reason House Listoh preferred to select women for inclusion in its ranks.
Pryzius was telling some apparently terrible joke but, naturally, everyone around him erupted into a chorus of laughter as though on command—which they might as well have been. I really didn’t want to deal with him right then, but right at that moment I caught his eye and he gestured for me to come over.
I didn’t like playing the lapdog but I hadn’t come to start a fight, so I knew I had to at least oblige for appearance’ sake.
“My good friend, Jezran Wiegraf,” he beamed, standing from his resting perch on a truly remarkable piece of wooden furniture whose purpose I couldn’t immediately ascertain. “Gentlemen,” he began, then added with a practiced bow to the House Listoh Apprentice, “and Ladies, you are in the presence of the only man to have been selected higher than myself in my College class! His abilities are truly legendary…” he trailed off before turning toward me with a look of mock confusion. “What exactly are your abilities, again? My memory becomes clouded in the presence of beautiful women,” he said with a hunter’s look at the raven-haired Listoh Apprentice.
I smiled as courteously as I could manage, but I was way out of my element at these kinds of events. Still, those stints on the high school debate team helped me from making a complete ass out of myself. “I’m clearly not as good with women as you are. I’m sorry, what was your name?” I asked politely as I turned to face the young woman, temporarily ignoring Pryzius and his cronies.
The petite Apprentice curtsied politely. “I am Gilai’el, Journeyman. Thank you for asking,” she said pointedly with an annoyed look at Pryzius.
“Do not change the subject, Jezran,” said Pryzius in a jovial tone, but he was clearly trying to start something. “What are your exact abilities, anyway? They must be something significant to have been selected by such a prestigious house as Wiegraf.” He shook his head in mock sorrow as he continued, “Were our fates reversed, I would have been the one with the good fortune to be part of such an august organization. But I suppose I shall have to content myself with the meager means of House Tyrdren.”
I nodded solemnly. “Indeed,” I agreed, “yours is a great burden, and I know I speak for everyone present in saying we all admire how well you bear it.” I flashed a toothy grin as I finished, “You’re truly an inspiration to us all.”
Irritation flashed across Pryzius’ face and for the first time I noticed that among his cadre was none other than Kaven Urkalia, who looked even paler than he had when leaving the Magisterial Offices a half hour or so earlier. I couldn’t help a sneer from crossing my features, but I banished it quickly enough.
“Sleeping, is it not?” asked Pryzius rhetorically, and if he were a snake his fangs would have been pouring venom. “That is your great talent, yes?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Something like that,” I agreed disinterestedly.
“Yes,” he said ponderously, “your greatest ability—and, indeed, the keystone of your entire House—is only useful if your subject is asleep.” Pryzius laughed, and it was a hollow, false sound. “I admit I have some difficulty understanding exactly how such an art is worthy of inclusion among the Schools of Magic, so perhaps you would be so kind as to elucidate for us?”
“I think I’d rather not,” I replied lazily. “I’m pretty tired, and might need to lie down for a nap before tonight’s festivities get in full swing.” I yawned for dramatic effect, and Gilai’el Listoh couldn’t suppress a giggle as I did so. “My craft is one which demands constant attention and practice, after all.”
“Yes,” Pryzius agreed quickly, “I am sure that the unfortunate matter earlier this hour was a stressful one. I believe we would all understand if you required a rest after such a stressful encounter.” He shook his head sadly, “I do so wish you had notified me, Jezran. I could have averted the entire misunderstanding,” he shot a look back at Kaven Urkalia, whose face was beet-red with embarrassment.
I cocked my head as if confused. “Oh, that?”
I replied in mock surprise. “I had forgotten all about it, to be perfectly honest. It probably didn’t even rank among the ten most interesting things to happen to me this week, if you want to know the truth.” I knew he had been the one to orchestrate the entire thing, and I enjoyed nothing more than sticking it to him in front of his cadre of sycophants.
“I believe Lady Marizzi is expecting you in the library,” interrupted an unfamiliar butler dressed in the same black and white uniform as the one who had greeted me at the door. “If you will follow me, my Lord?” he said to me. Without waiting for my assent, he turned and began to walk out of the Main Hall toward an adjoining hallway.
I bowed curtly to Pryzius’ cadre and then I repeated the gesture more politely to Gilai’el Listoh, who would get no such reprieve from her insufferable present company. Again, she curtsied politely by way of reply and our eyes locked for a moment as I thought I recognized her from somewhere. But the moment passed, and I headed off to follow the butler out of the Main Hall.
We didn’t walk far, perhaps only a hundred feet down one of the many corridors adjoining Listoh’s Main Hall when the butler stopped in front of a set of large, stone doors with frescos of animals inhabiting unlikely climates and terrain. One was of a male lion tramping through the snow, another was of a fish in the clouds, and yet another featured a pigeon-like bird swimming beneath the waves. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and I was uncharacteristically envious at the incredible quality of everything surrounding me inside Listoh Manor.
The butler knocked twice and I heard a woman’s voice from within. My heart was racing, and I had to force myself to calm down. It had been awhile since I’d had anything resembling a heart attack, and I really hoped to keep it that way for a good long while.
The butler opened the door and motioned for me to go through alone, and he quietly closed the massive door behind me after I had done so.
Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) Page 31