Noble Solutions

by Schinhofen, Daniel

  Ryan and Italice came out of the crowd, and neither bowed.

  “Lack of decorum seems to be spreading,” Sharpeyes snapped. “I’m censuring both of you. Your lack of explanation to me, the City Lord, about the reservoir is a blatant slap to the face of the office and myself. I will be sending the censure to your family heads.”

  “We can take them now,” Italice said stiffly.

  “What?”

  “Maybe you haven’t looked at your messages of late,” Ryan replied. “We sent you word earlier today. Both Italice and I are the heads of our families. Our parents stepped down in favor of our leadership and the joining of our houses. Censuring the heads of our families would break the Agreements we hold with the city.”

  Sharpeyes’ right eye began to twitch. “When did you send these messages?”

  “About an hour before we got here,” Ryan replied. “Now, if you censure us, we’ll take the clause in the Agreement that will bring this before the Queens, as we’ve done nothing to be censured for.”

  Hands balled into white-knuckled fists, Sharpeyes breathed slowly and deep. “Step back.”

  “Gladly,” Italice growled.

  The crowd murmured, seeing how easily the two non-nobles had defeated what was clearly a scheme Sharpeyes thought he’d prepared well.

  Nostrils flaring, Sharpeyes turned toward Sean. His eyes went wider when he realized who was standing beside him. “You brought that… thing… before me?”

  Sean took a single step forward. “What did you say about my wife?”

  Sharpeyes lip pulled back in a sneer. “Wife?”

  “Yeah. I notice yours isn’t here,” Sean said tightly. “Why is that?”

  “That is not your concern!” Sharpeyes snarled. “What is your concern is that I’m stripping you of your Aspirant rank! Using the articles of nobility—”

  “Lord,” Julian Bloodheart said, coming forward into the open area. “A moment?”

  “What?” Sharpeyes asked tightly. “Are you going to censure your son for killing a trusted subordinate of Truestrike?”

  “No, I applaud him for standing up for his wife. In fact, he has been fully welcomed back into the family.”

  “Then why do you interrupt me?”

  “You can’t strip MacDougal of his rank,” Julian replied.

  “Of course I can!” Sharpeyes snapped.

  “You could for an Aspirant, if you found enough Dames and Knights to speak against him,” Julian said.

  “Exactly!” Sharpeyes hissed.

  “However, you can’t do that to MacDougal.”

  It was clear that Sharpeyes was about to explode, but his voice was steady, “And why would that be? If you fail to explain it properly, I will be very displeased with you.”

  “Sean MacDougal isn’t an Aspirant,” Julian replied. “He is a Knight. He married Hallie Bloodheart and I accepted him as a full member of the family. I then separated the MacDougal Family into their own branch of the Bloodheart family.”

  “Why was I not informed?!” Sharpeyes roared.

  “I sent a message to your wife,” Julian replied. “I figured she would let you know, Lord. The only one who can reverse this decision of mine is a High Lord or a Queen.”

  Sharpeyes’ eye twitched even more. “I see... your crippled daughter married him? What did he promise you? His worthless trinkets?”

  Julian boomed out a laugh. “My daughter isn’t a cripple. She stands beside him now, next to Helga MacDougal.”

  Hallie smiled beatifically at the room. “I’m looking forward to the dances.”

  “Moreover,” Julian pressed on, “the new Aspirant... I dislike this worm. I would ask for a showing to see if there are enough Knights and Dames here who feel the same.”

  “No!” Sharpeyes hissed.

  “I see. Very well,” Julian shrugged. “Shall we all welcome Knight MacDougal now?”

  “No!” Sharpeyes snapped. “We shall continue with the business of the evening!”

  Julian looked around the room, then sighed. “As you wish, Lord. I must say, your wife would have spun her plots much better.”

  Now his left eye had begun to twitch, and Sharpeyes ground his teeth briefly. “You go too far, Bloodheart.”

  “Then challenge me,” Julian said simply. “I state facts alone. Since you took over as City Lord, your plots have been laughable. Look— MacDougal not only still lives, but has thwarted even more of your plots tonight. You don’t even have a good proxy.”

  “You don’t know my plans!” Sharpeyes hissed. “One of them should be starting right now. MacDougal will lament ever having crossed me!”

  Sean felt the moment come together and he stepped forward. “Your plans will fail, like your son’s did, but I did bring a gift for you. A gift made of adamantine. It will last for ages, unblemished for you to stare at until you die.”

  Sharpeyes turned his head to Sean. “Gift? You didn’t bring a gift.”

  “I just didn’t hand it over. Why would I when my last statue was nearly destroyed by one of your staff?” Sean asked. “Here is the statue I think that best explains our relationship.” Hand dipping into his belt pouch, which had been declared empty earlier, he pulled out the adamantine statue he’d made, which was much too big for the bag.

  The room went still when the statue was held up for all to see— it was Sean standing over Evan’s body, with Dark Cutter plunged into his head. The metal gleamed dully in the light of the room, but the details were sharp.

  Face going red, Sharpeyes’ breathing became ragged. His hand shot out, knocking the statue from Sean’s hand. “You’ll die for this! All of you will die for this! Guards!”

  Screams went up around the room as dozens of guards— who’d moved into the room through the side doors unseen— suddenly started attacking people.

  Sean spun to where his friends were and his blood went cold. Ryan was down already, and Italice was a gray-skinned form, standing over him and ripping a guard apart. Julian, his wife, and his sons were fighting ten guards, keeping them back from the others. Fredrick and MacLenn had their swords drawn and were engaged in combat. They were both losing badly until Giralt moved forward and threw flames to engulf their attackers.

  “Kill all those that are disloyal!” Sharpeyes yelled as he fled up the stairs. “The one who kills MacDougal will be adopted as my son or daughter!”

  Sean leapt back, his armor covering him and Dark Cutter appearing in his hand. “Ven, find the Lady!”

  Helga interposed herself between Sean and the sudden mob that turned toward them, her armor on, shield out, and her sword in her hand. “I will collect your souls!” she hissed, her eyes burning with black-white flames.

  “I will help,” Hallie added, also armored and ready for the fight.

  “Sir!” A Messenger Fairy zipped to float before Sean— their armor was dented and they were bleeding. “The manor! It’s being attacked!”

  Sean stopped caring about what might happen later. He had to end this quickly and get back to his wives. Wings of energy flashed into being, coating the room in bright light.

  “Help our friends and kill our enemies,” Sean told Helga. “I’m going after him.” Sean vanished from sight with those words.

  Sharpeyes fled the ballroom— his armor and weapons were just outside the upper doorway. Slamming the door shut behind him, he grabbed his armor from his steward and began to get it on as his personal guard stood between him and the door.

  “Damn them! Why won’t they just lay down and die?!” Sharpeyes hissed.

  The door came off its hinges, crashing into the two closest guards with brutal strength. The others all looked for what had caused it, but there was nothing there.

  Sharpeyes grimaced and a dozen copies of him appeared. “He’s here! Kill him!”

  The guards didn’t see anyone to kill, not even when the two trying to help the men under the door suddenly lost their heads. Before the others could react, flames engulfed the hallway, burning the others
in a torrent of flesh-melting heat.

  Sharpeyes stopped trying to get his armor on and ran. He pulled a whistle from his pouch and blew a shrill blast that made Sean wince. “You won’t last against them!”

  Sean finished cutting down the guards, no longer Camouflaged, as he was coated in blood. He let his wings fade, the hallway here too narrow for them. With a snarl, he rushed after the fleeing noble.

  Reaching the first split, Sean paused and listened hard. Rapid footsteps came from his right, so he ran that way. Another split came, so he had to pause again. Left, he thought as he ran on.

  Guards appeared around a corner, but Sean didn’t even try to stop himself. He slammed one into the wall with bone-crunching force, and Dark Cutter ripped through the other’s neck. He caught sight of Sharpeyes turning the next corner and smiled ferally as he gave chase.

  Turning the corner, Sean staggered when five crossbow bolts slammed into him. They didn’t penetrate his armor, but the one sparking off his cheek-guard caused him to stagger. There were five guards at the end of the hall, reloading their crossbows.

  “Fireball!” Sean snarled, thrusting his hand forward.

  There were brief screams from the end of the hall, but by the time Sean got there, the men were dead. He went past them just in time to see a door close. Sean heard broken glass from behind the door and screamed in anger, thinking Sharpeyes was getting away.

  He hit the door with his shoulder. It had been barred, but it was now pulled out of the frame. The heavy wood hit the ground with a deep thud that shook the room. Sharpeyes was beside a glass door, looking smug. Between Sean and Sharpeyes, the cuons stood, growling.

  “Kill him!” Sharpeyes commanded.

  The cuons didn’t move, and Sean’s grim look became a smile of pure evil. “Idiot,” Sean laughed. “Cuander, this man attacked me and my family. He’s yours.”

  Cuander howled, and the entire pack spun on Sharpeyes. As one, they rushed the noble.

  Sharpeyes had a moment of surprise before he was pulled down and mauled by the cuons. Sean nodded, then paused— his friends were back there, fighting for their lives, and his wives were being attacked at the manor. With a shake of his head, he went out the broken door, resummoned his wings, and flew to the manor.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Sean streaked across the sky, his wings illuminating him to the guards below. No one did anything. They were surprised that someone went by them in the air, and by then, he was too far away from them to react.

  Sean came down into the yard, amid the burnt remnants of the garden. Charred corpses of men in armor lay scattered about the wreckage. The moment he landed, the front door of the manor burst open and his wives came rushing out. His wings vanished as he turned to them.

  “What happened?” Sean asked. “I was told you were being attacked.”

  “We were,” Fiona said with anger. “They’ve paid for that idiocy…” She trailed off and her anger ebbed. “But so did Rosa...”

  Rumia sniffled as she came to stand behind his wives. “Sir, can you...?”

  “Where?”

  “This way,” Rumia said, running through the blackened garden, not bothering to follow the paths.

  Sean went after her, his household trailing him. His blood went cold when he saw the other casualty of the attack— Ursa, the second cuon of their home, was dead beside Rosa. Both had been stabbed repeatedly, and two armored men were dead beside them. They looked like they had both been savaged by Ursa. Neither looked to have been injured by Rosa, as her armor and weapon had not been deployed.

  Kneeling beside Rosa, he touched her. After a moment, he swallowed, then shifted his hand to Ursa. Another long second passed before he stood slowly. “I’m sorry, Rumia,” he said softly. “She’s gone. Already at the manor.”

  Rumia swallowed, tears spilling from her eyes. “I understand, sir. She will be happy there, and we can see her often.”

  Andrea went to Rumia, pulling her into a hug and holding her. “Come with me. We can talk.”

  “Sean, you came in your armor,” Aria said. “What happened?”

  “He went further than we feared. His guards are attacking everyone he called disloyal. I chased him down and killed him, then came here,” Sean said.

  “Get back,” Fiona said softly, touching his cheek. “Go save our friends. Finish this.”

  Sean pulled her to him and kissed her softly before stepping back, his wings coming back into being. “Stay safe. I’ll want to hear about the attack when I get home. Are Clara and Eva okay?”

  “Yes. They’re with the drivers and footmen in the kitchen, protected by the cooks and maids,” Felora said. “Go. We’ll be waiting.”

  Launching himself into the air, Sean sped back across the night sky, intent on killing anyone still fighting his friends. As he flew, a hundred glowing silver streaks went with him, then sped ahead of him.

  When Sean flew over the manor wall, he grinned savagely. The guards on the walls were all running away from darting, silver blurs. With no one to stop him, Sean landed by the same broken door he’d left through. The cuons milled there, but sat when he landed.

  “Cuander, pack,” Sean said levelly, “Sharpeyes’ guards are prey. Hunt them down and kill them to the last unless they surrender. Subdue those and wait.”

  Cuander howled and the hounds rushed into the yard. With a long look, Cuander met Sean’s gaze, then bowed his head.

  “I’ll ask the Lady if she’s alive,” Sean replied. “Go now.”

  Cuander rushed after his pack.

  Sean ran down the halls the same way he’d come before. He’d been gone only minutes, but minutes in a fight were a lifetime. When he got back to the ballroom, it was over.

  Helen Bloodheart was glaring at a smaller group of nobles, her blade still slick with blood. “You knew, and while you may not have attacked, you did nothing! Why should I let you leave this room alive?”

  “Our families would come for yours,” one woman sneered. “Bloodhearts all over would pay if you did.”

  “What will that mean to me?” Helen growled. “My husband lies dead, my two youngest children with him!”

  “I’ll kill them.” Italice’s voice was even more gravelly as she came toward the group. She was gray-skinned and had long vicious claws at the ends of her fingers. “My husband died tonight, and I will see that repaid. I care not if your family comes for mine.”

  “Wait,” Sean said, stopping by the upper railing. “Helga?”

  “Here, My Lord,” Helga said from where she stood beside a dozen bodies. “I have their souls. I was forced to use one of my reserves to save my own and had to toss others away, but these twelve, I hold safe.”

  “Hopefully, it’s enough,” Sean said as he came down the stairs. “Helen, Italice, please stay your weapons for a moment.”

  “What happened to Lord Sharpeyes?” the woman who’d been defiant snapped at him.

  “Cuander ate him,” Sean said, giving the woman a flat stare, “on my command. If you keep pushing, Helga will reap your soul shortly.”

  The woman blinked and sat down abruptly, fear filling her as black-white flames shimmered in Sean’s eyes.

  “Who all died?” Sean asked, going to Helga.

  “Fredrick, Ryan, Augustus, Julian, Julius, Hallie, Winston, and others who took up arms with us.”

  “Hallie first,” Sean said, moving to her body. Kneeling beside Hallie, he looked at Helga as she came to a stop beside him. “Ready?”

  Helga nodded and closed her eyes. A moment later, a silver thread extended from her breastbone. Sean reached up and took the thread. He then turned toward Hallie’s body and found the other half of it right above her heart.

  “Kneel, please,” Sean said softly.

  Helga did so instantly, her eyes still closed.

  Touching the threads together, Sean willed them to connect. His eyes were focused on the wound to Hallie’s neck, right above what her armor would have covered. The wound began to heal and
Sean smiled.

  He felt his energy spool out to heal Hallie’s body first. Once the injury was gone, another pulse of energy refreshed it so her heart, lungs, and brain were in perfect condition. The moment her body was ready, the threads fused and Hallie gasped.

  “Easy...” Sean said softly as he touched her cheek. “You’re back with us now.”

  Blinking a few times, she locked eyes with him and smiled. “I knew you’d come back for us.”

  “Of course,” Sean smiled. “I have to help the others now.”